#he is very well written in that way but whatever i guess it's black or white only

[bachelorsees]

can't really have the 'daniil is racist' conversation because people ignore any form of subtlety in favour of either 'daniil can never say anything racist throughout any game' or 'daniil would say the n word'

[misc-obeyme]

Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Who Dares Summon Me: Human Vaggie & Charlie

Vaggie: (sitting in the living room of a piece of shit apartment and reading from a "demon summoning" book. the sound of gunfire and police sirens barely even registers to her ears anymore)

Vaggie: Okay, so I got the Pentagram, a goat (glances at two goat plushies she stole from a name brand toy store) Fuckers will live..... they make millions in a day.

Vaggie: Candles... (glances at the Bath & Body Works, cinnamon and vanilla scented candles)

Vaggie: And... blood.... uh.... (Looks at the bucket filled with water, corn syrup, red food coloring, and cocoa powder to help create a blood effect) Fuck... demons can tell the difference between real and fake blood, right? Dammit.

Vaggie: (cuts her finger with her pocket knife and lets] a few drops fall into the bucket) There. That should work. Now, let's see-

Lute: (comes out of her room half naked and throws a pair of panties at Vaggie) Yo, Vagina! Adam stole your underwear again as a prank, I guess. Here.

Vaggie: (gawks as she catches the garment and spikes it to the floor) Lute! What the fuck?! Can't you control your fucking boyfriend??? How did he even get into my room?! I keep it locked for that reason.

Lute: (grabs a beer out of the fridge, pops the cap off on the counter, starts chugging, and flips off Vaggie as she returns to her room for whatever round she and Adam are on)

Vaggie: Sick perverted sons of bitches... (turns back to the book) Read the forbidden script and make a pact. (Scoffs) Okay, edge lords. I'll give it a go.

Vaggie: (recites the script with some difficulty)

..........

Vaggie: (relaxes her back against the couch) Can't say I'm surprised. I literally bought this online for six-

-Fire tornado erupts from the Pentagram and burning red eyes stare down at Vaggie from the inferno-

Demon Charlie: WHO dares summon the powerful Princess of Hell- Oh, fuck!!! (Trips over the bucket and falls face first into Vaggie's lap, revealing that she is wearing a red dress with black thigh high stockings)

Vaggie: Jesus Fucking Christ!!!

Demon Charlie: (face still pressed against Vaggie's crotch) You have a very comfortable lap.

Vaggie: (grabs demon's horns and pulls her up so they're sitting in front of each other) You're actually a demon?

Demon Charlie: (blinks) Considering the fact that you're still holding my horns, I have this adorable little tail (waves her heart-shaped tail in hello), and I came straight up from Hell because of your summoning circle. Yup! (Sees the plushies and gasps) Oh! You even gave Razzle and Dazzle their own conduits! You're so sweet!

Vaggie: ...........Who?

Demon Charlie: Razzle and Dazzle! You know. My pets. It's written in chatper six, paragraph five, sentence three. (Snaps her fingers and the two goat plushies turn into two living goat demons with wings)

Vaggie: (scouring the book) What?!

Demon Charlie: (snuggling her boys) Also, I know you had to use a little of your own blood to make this work, which I promise to help heal that cut on your finger by the way, but Thank You So Much for just using fake blood! I always feel so bad when people actually use a bucket of real blood. I usually let my dad take those summonings.

Vaggie: (glances at the bucket rolling across the floor then back to the demon) Y-Youre dad?

Demon Charlie: Lucifer, the King of Hell. (Light bulb goes off) Oh! I never completed my introduction! I'm Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and heir to the throne. Pleased to meet you!

Vaggie: Uh.... Vaggie.... I never would have expected the Princess of Hell to be so..... bubbly....

Demon Charlie: I get that a lot. Now! What can I do for you? How can I help? Do you need money? Power? A soul you'd like for me to devour?

Vaggie: N-No... nothing quite like that....

Demon Charlie: Oh, thank Satan! I hate eating souls. Most of them taste so bad!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... Well.... I don't really have anything for you. I got bored and decided I'd try this out...

Demon Charlie: (disappointed) Really? But you sold me your virginity. Surely, there's something you want in exchange!

Vaggie: I'm sorry. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

Demon Charlie: Drop of virgin blood and (holds up Vaggies lavender panties) an article of clothing that covers your most intimate desire.

Vaggie: (silently screaming)

Demon Charlie: H-Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still a virgin, too! (Under her breath) Not from lack of trying on other asshole's accunts, but still....

Vaggie: Ay, Dios mio!

Demon Charlie: Well, I can't take your payment until you come up with something you want, soooooooo! (Transforms into a human)

Charlie: (snuggles up to Vaggie's side) I'll just have to stay here with you until you come up with something!

Vaggie: (catatonic)

[aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen]

I don’t like how the Sokeefe confession went down, because it felt so abrupt compared to the build up of the series.

I think this because the whole series it’s Keefe who’s loved Sophie since the beginning, Keefe who hinted his feelings and flirted with her, and Keefe who couldn’t confess. And it was Sophie who couldn’t figure out her feelings and was oblivious to his. So it felt strange that though Keefe technically confessed first in the letter he left, it was Sophie who initiated the actual confession.

I understand that all the build up for Sophie confessing was in Stellarlune, but it just didn’t fit with the rest of the series, and honestly, felt unfair to Keefe (from a readers stand point, I’m sure he’s very happy in cannon). He should have been the one to confess.

I’ve heard people complaining that Chapter 42 was written like a fan fiction, and I disagree with this statement for two reasons, one that I think this is supposed to be insulting the actual writing of the scene, and I would never insult Shannon Messangers writing, and two because I don’t like to spread that fanfic writing is bad because fan fiction can have some amazing writing.

However I can see the similarities to Chapter 42 and fanfiction. As an avid reader of fanfiction, a reader can tell when the fanfic author is just writing a confession as a way to get the characters to kiss, the confession may be abrupt without a lot of build up, but also may just be very easy and quick. And that’s sort of how I felt reading the Sokeefe confession. It felt too easy for all the build up and angst and unrequited but eventually requited love that is Sokeefe.

Keefe should have been the one to confess, and Sophie should of had a harder time accepting feelings instead of pining for Keefe the entirety (?) or Stellarlune, and it should have been more difficult. Also Ro shouldn’t have been peer pressuring Sophie….

….And that’s the real controversial take here. Because, I do genuinely believe Sophie likes Keefe in cannon. I’m not a big Sokeefe shipper but I saw where this was going throughout the series. However in cannon, to the reader, it looks like Ro had to convince Sophie that she liked Keefe, and even if I think she does, it still feels like peer pressure when reading it. And I think Keefe would also be disappointed if he heard that it was Ro who convinced Sophie that she like him, because it should have been Sophie battling with her own feelings, not Ro telling her how she feels (regardless of if she was correct).

If I were to rewrite the Sokeefe part of Stellarlune, I would’ve have Sophie understanding that part of the letter, but pushing down her feelings and choosing to be oblivious in order to avoid facing her feelings when she already has so much going on. Have her think about Keefe while he’s gone, and be jealous of Biana (or suspicious whatever you’d call it) in that one scene but have her obviously be falsely justifying it in order to push down those romantic feelings.

Then when she does find Keefe, make her avoid mentioning the letter at all costs. Have it hang over their heads at every moment their alone together, have it be awkward. Then, on accident have her mention the letter. Let there be a pause.

Let Keefe be a bit bitter about Sophie refusing to acknowledge anything. Have him be all like “oh so you did see the letter.”

Have Sophie still refuse to talk about it. “yeah, I guess I was so distracted with trying to find you I didn’t really think about it (lying). was there anything important in there?”

Have Keefe’s eyes turn dark “no, I guess not. (lying)” and have him rudely stalk of.

Then later have them doing something for the black swan with their friends, looking over scrolls, idk research or something.

Have Sophie be frustrated after the scrolls don’t tell them anything important. “why can’t the author of these just tell us what this means?” She should grumble

And Keefe should say “well maybe you should read between the lines to figure out what they mean.”

Sophie throws down the scroll in her hands “well maybe people should just say what they mean instead of writing it down in a way that can mean anything!!” Keefe sets down his scroll, walking off outside. No one else knows what’s going on but Sophie sighs and follows him out.

“Keefe! Wait!” She shouts. Keefe would whirl around, tears in his eyes.

“Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough?”

Sophie stares at him, surprised that he’s crying.

“I’ve waited this whole time to because I didn’t want to pressure you. But you can’t even acknowledge it.”

“Because I don’t know what “it” is! You left, and you leave me this note, and I’m just supposed to understand what it means?”

“You know what it means! Why else would I write it?”

“You wrote it because you were leaving-“

“I WROTE IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU”

“YOU WROTE IT BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!”

Suddenly there are tears in Sophie’s eyes too. “You’re accusing me of avoiding all this but you were just as willing to! You didn’t want to confront me with your feelings so you wrote down your confession, but now you’re back and all you can do is shout it at me.”

Keefe takes a step closer, his eyes wide.

“How am I supposed to know you mean it if you don’t say it?” Sophie looks down, tugging at an eyelash.

Keefe takes another step closer, taking her hand in his. His voice is croaky and wet but each word is clear.

“Sophie Foster…I love you.”

And that’s when it all hits Sophie, because that’s everything she needed to hear and all the things she’s been stuffing down comes up and hits her all at once, and she physically stumbles into Keefe.

“Foster?” Keefe asks, catching her. Sophie looks up and makes eye contact with him.

“I think I’ve just fallen for you.” (The joke is that she actually fell over. In case it wasn’t clear.)

[theyluvlyss]

Hey!! you mentioned you wanted to write for tbp a while back, idk if ur still down but if so could I please get some robin hcs??

♡♡

𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧...

...I figured I'd use this as an opportunity to expand on all of the black phone boys, plus gwen, because... because I fucking can lmfao. so yeah, along with robin, I'll add finney, gwen, bruce, billy, vance, and griffin, if that's okay :)🖤.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥/𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

lyssa's personal rendition of the ghost boys + gwen (except the difference is that I'm 100% totally right and everyone else is wrong, so ya😙🖤✨️) ((I'm kidding, plz don't attack me)). also, prepare, because this is probably going to be sooo long lmao...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

none

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

1978 (plus some time afterward) - "if they lived" hdcns

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing - mentions of death/abuse/brutality - me getting passionate (hence why this is so long) - spoilers (if you somehow haven't seen the movie by this point💀) - autism/adhd related topics - highly encourage shifters to use whatever I've written here as black phone shift-inspo because I know the movie doesn't give us a lot to go on for the boys personality-wise (also, tag me in your drs, guys, I'm so nosy😆♡)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 :

I gotta get this off my chest before I forget and go insane, but oh my god, Finney is NOT the crybaby some of y'all make him out to be😹. That boy cried once in the entire one hour and forty-three minute runtime of the whole movie, okay? And it was when he was at his VERY LOWEST point during said movie/events, okay? Okay.

Y'all are fr gonna have to drop that narrative, because if it really came down to it, boy could talk mad shit and spread rumors like wildfire. All it takes is one little whisper to Bruce😆🤭...

Now that that's settled...

I feel like he's very non-confrontational as a person, though, fs. Like, if he's put in a position where his well-being/life is/may be on the line (😃...), then yeah, he'll do his best to stick up for himself. But otherwise, his main, favorite, and works-90%-of-the-time tactic is to just avoid conflict and places where it might occur altogether.

Also, I definitely think he's autistic. Like, no way he's not. Hyperfix? Space, obviously. Especially rockets, and then the science behind space/the things in space. I don't see him as a fan of loud noises, either (especially when we consider his upbringing). He also seems to not have the best handle on social cues/is awkward (but I guess that can also be perceived as a neurotypical trait, too, so idk). I also feel like he's defo a stickler for texture. Won't eat certain foods or wear certain fabrics,,, needs things to be a specific type of feeling/way for him to operate as usual, you feel me?

Having complete (emotional?) shutdowns when he's not in a positive mood and/or environment, only really having a logical way of thinking until the tasks/emotions run a bit too high and then he breaks down... I could go on, this really all seems like solid evidence to me, ngl🤷🏽‍♀️.

Bro just like me fr. Anyways.

I also think he's a huge fan of routine, especially simple ones that he can remember. Or, if/when a task is somehow connected to an object/person/other task? Yeah, his brain loves that.

He's a Cancer (birthday - July 10th), but I definitely think he's got Capricorn in his chart somewhere, too.

I might've brought this up before in another post, but I definitely think Finney would take/find interest in astrology. Maybe not actually believe in it or take it as seriously as the next person, but he'd definitely respects it because, while he's more of an astronomy guy, focusing on the logical aspects of space and stars and shit, astrology delves into a more spiritual and belief-based aspect, and he likes the thought of the stars that he loves having meanings and things that correspond to, not only your life, but to who you may be as a person.

Kind of like a little bit of insight, a look-see, on who someone is. So, with that, he definitely knows his own star sign and is happy to answer when asked.

"Oh, I'm a Cancer :). What are you?" And would probably find himself either asking or doing research on his own time on your/a person's answer to his rebound question.

A raging bisexual if I've ever seen one (I am one so I would know🫶🏽) (I give him the certified stamp of bi-ness, dw guys, I gave him proper clearance🫶🏽). Tell me he wasn't looking at Donna and Robin the same way. Actually, don't tell me, because if you say anything other than, "You're so right, Lyss😻‼️" I'm blocking you♡.

But in all seriousness, I feel like Finney himself didn't realize he felt the same feelings that he does for Donna for Robin until after he got with Donna (like,,, bro didn't clock it was the same feeling, nor that he even swung that way at all, until after the fact,,, does that make sense?). Sometimes, you just have those moments of clarity about yourself later on, I was kind of the same way.

Anyways, cat person to the third degree max. Only likes small dogs, and anything bigger than like,,, those little, fluffy ass dogs, he starts tweakin' real bad🥴💀. I don't blame him fr, though. Dogs are loud "BARK BARK🗣‼️" all in yo face, lick-lick, hyperactive, unpredictable... I could not deal, and neither could he.

I'm not saying cats are any more predictable or that they don't have their own cons, but hey, everyone has their preferences, and he just prefers cats🤷🏽‍♀️.

LOVEEESSS sugary/sweet tasting stuff. The type to always be craving a little sweet treat after dinner (genuinely, he does eat all the ice cream, he really tries to hold back for Gwen, but,,,😔✋🏽), or throughout the day, all he'll be thinking about is a crisp, cold soda.

😃💀His teeth are gonna be wrecked by the time he's thirty-five lol anyways...

He also loves a good crafting session. Could honestly spend hours in his room cutting up paper and pictures, building model rockets, making paper dolls for Gwen. He just really likes stuff he can sit, hunker down, and really focus on. Likes having his attention drawn, so things like crafting, watching TV, scrapbooking, etc. is really good/fun for him. Billy is DEFINITELY his picture plug, btw.

No way Finney isn't itching by the door for Billy to come by so he can be updated on the latest things added in the paper. Or, if his dad gets to it first, he's reminding him not to throw it out until he gets back home from school so he can still sort through it for what he wants.

Speaking of Gwen, I do fully believe that Finney was the one braiding her hair every morning before school. Not doubting their father's girl-dad skills or anything✋🏽😃✋🏽,,, but that man was barely coherent enough to not slur his words in every sentence, and you expect me to believe he was worried about making that girl's head look pretty for school? Girl, anyways💀✋🏽.

She probably asked him one day and he was like, "Gwenny, it's school, not a fashion show😐🍺."

For sure, it was her mom doing it every other day. So yeah, when she passed, Finney figured he wouldn't let tradition die along with her. He learned and would braid/style her hair for school however she wanted.

Umm, I think that's all I got, other than... like,,,

RIP Finney Blake, you would've gone feral watching The Sandlot😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 :

She reminds me so, SO much of my little sister, so a lot of this might be me projecting her (my lil sis) onto Gwen🤭💀.

A little brat, but in the best/silliest way. Like yeah, she'll tease you and talk all that shit and lowkey kinda bully you, but bro, it's all love fr🫶🏽😙. If anything, if she's being extra polite and courteous to you, it's probably because you're someone she just met, or because she really dislikes you and is hoping that you'll catch onto her fakeness so she can exit stage left of the conversation lmao.

Another raging bi-in-training lollll. I'm sorry, but she's totally one of the girlies who never got a ken/boy doll so she had to "improvise" and "pretend" one of her girl dolls was a boy💀✋🏽. Like, girl, anyways, you know seeing Cher live on TV for the first time had you rethinking your entire life, don't deny it lmfao🤭🩷💜💙.

She has a very particular sense of style, like,,, has certain statement pieces and outfits she likes to mix and match, and only she really gets it, but it fits/suits her. Plus, some of it is from her mom, so ofc she has to rep it fr✊🏽.

Once broke a girl's shin (as in, yes, Gwen kicked it that fucking hard), because another girl had said the pair of earrings she wore that day were ugly. Now, to be fair, the girl couldn't have known they were Gwen's dead mother's earrings, but bitch, didn't anybody tell you if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say shit at all🤨? Exactly. Mind your manners or get your shin kicked in😙♡.

Speaking of, contrary to the movie (yup, I go against canon, idc, sue me), I feel like she is NOT a fair/honorable fighter at all (or a trained one, for that matter). Especially if you're hurting someone she loves (so Finney, obvs). She's biting, pulling hair, grabbing anything she can use as a weapon, outnumbering you if she can somehow recruit ppl; she gives no fucks.

And you can't talk her out of it, either. She's dead set on two facts; 1. If you attack me, I assume my life is at stake, and I'm fighting you as such. If you wanna call that unfair, idk, maybe you shouldn't have thrown hands with me🤷🏻‍♀️. 2. I don't start shit, I finish it. I won't throw the first punch, but if you do, anything I do to you afterward is self-defense🤷🏻‍♀️.

Robin and Vance have tried to teach her otherwise - y'know... give her the ol' dignity and honor speech - but sheeee...

She wasn't listenin' to that shit bro bffr💀✋🏽.

And while yes, she didn't take that piece of advice from him the one time, anything else that leaves Vance's mouth might as well be damn near close to Jesus speaking directly to her😭. She's practically got a crush on Vance, and it's so obnoxious, it's not even funny.

The girl will go off with her little girl friends and basically stalk him (guys, let's not act like teenage girls aren't literally insane😻💀) and often, she enjoys his fights and is finding literally any and every way to just even have a conversation with him. Vance,,, has not caught on at all, but it's probably for the best💀✋🏽.

He sees her as another one of his sisters, at most. Annoying, yet charming in her own way, and is always sure to give her some half-assed advice; "I don't wanna see your ass outside when the street lights come on, got it?" "Yup🫡😻!!" And occasionally gives her a fight-related tip.

Same thing with Robin, but to a much lesser degree. It's more like a fond admiration, like, that's basically a second older brother. Has and will continue to scarf down any food he brings over, even if it wasn't even for her. And if he gets pressed, she'll just-

"It's me appreciating it 'cause your stuff is good😃😇...!" "😐🧍🏽" And then she's running off to avoid any scoldings.

I feel like Gwen is a very ambitious person. Doesn't take no shit, which can make her stubborn at times, but at the end of the day, she always finds what she's looking for and/or gets the answers she needs. Ambitious and persistent.

Definitely a go-getter type, which was why she even took the time to read up more on her little ability, what it means, etcetc. Miss girl wanted answers, she was going to find 'em🤷🏽‍♀️.

I have no clue when her birthday is (if someone knows it, TELL ME👹), but for now, I hdcn she's either a Taurus, Leo, Gemini, Cancer or Virgo (some of those also being in her chart as well, if that makes sense).

She is so totally, undeniably, and authentically 🎀🩷✨️girl✨️🩷🎀 like,,, idk how to explain. Like, yeah, she's rough around the edges, and her mouth is trash, and her attitude is up the wall, but oHMYGOD, SHE'S THE GIRLIEST GIRL through it all, somehow. It's so sweet and cute.

The type to spend time dressing up her dolls and making sure her dollhouse is in PERFECT shape after just rolling around in the mud. Has Finney braid up her hair in all these intricate, detailed ways just to get her comb stuck in them in matted knots a minute later. Only uses purple, pink, and yellow pens for her school work/notes, but she inherited her dad's shitty handwriting, so yeah, you can barely read that shit...but it looks pretty as hell, don't it😌? Does her nails allll of the time, but will immediately do other things right after, barely letting them dry, which leads to them smudging and looking a little messy.

Things like that just make her who she is. They make her ✨️Gwen✨️, y'know?

Also, her favorite color is yellow. Random, but idc, it makes perfect sense.

RIP Gwen Blake, you would've loved White Chicks😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐨 :

- before his death -

He's an Aquarius (birthday - February 2nd, which is literally two days before mine🤭💜🧡), but he's definitely got Libra and/or Leo somewhere in his chart, for sure.

I feel like he's the type to think/say none of that "astrology shit" matters, but then know his whole entire chart, top to bottom, and only wants to know/cares about the charts of people close to him. And I bet you he only did it because Finney brought it up once, and he wanted to know what the hell he was talking about💀.

While on the topic of Finney, tho, he probably had eyes on Finn since day one. Wanted to befriend him since the sandbox days, but didn't really have an excuse until he found out he was being bullied. Thought maybe one day Finn would fight back, but he never did, soooo😗...

Robin got to step in😈. And then all it took was landing on a common interest, and 💥BOOM💥. 4lyfers🤞🏽.

I feel like Robin also feels his feelings pretty deeply, more so than people realize, but again, he's definitely not finna let you know that. The type to cry it out/cuss people out quietly under his breath/vent to himself when he's absolutely sure he's alone, and then act like he never did it at all. And shit, he's good at hiding it. You'd probably never even know unless you were close with him or he flat out told you.

He's kind of a show-off, if anything😭. Just a little bit, nothing crazy, but he does get a kick out of "proving a point" beating the breaks off of someone "for the crowd". Or just anything he's skilled at; he might not actively seek the attention, but god, he hopes someone is watching, 'causeeeeee😗😙.

He was definitely taught to fight from his father, but continued to go to boxing classes after he went off to war and never came home. Robin would go wherever he could find them/they were offered (bonus points if they're free), spending a lot of time brushing up on technique, form, whatever. Even takes the time to actually read up on more, study it; does better with visual stuff, though, like pictures or videos or someone showing/guiding him, things like that.

That round-kick ain't just pure talent, y'know😌 (he'd definitely argue otherwise, tho).

He has a whole bandana collection that he's super proud of and kind of just started, but that green one is signature. Something his father left behind, and, like Gwen,,, my man's gotta rep it, you feel me😌✊🏽. Literally ONLY let's his mom touch it, and that's only to wash it. Off limits to every and anybody else, even his own uncle, and everyone knows it, too. The other bandanas are free game, though.

Robin was often given cooking lessons from his mom, and he found he likes to bake, too, but can't bake for shit. It always comes out completely burnt or not at all like he was expecting (it makes him so sad, too😭 like, bro just wants to make his own tres leches instead of having to wait for special occasions,,, is that too much to ask😫?).

A horror movie nut from day one. Definitely something that startled/disturbed his mother for a little while, but she got over it💀✋🏽.

He's not in it for the scares or anything, but for the production (although he loves and cherishes the semi-rare times where he actually jumps). He's actively studying the movies, what makes them good vs. bad, the actors, the lighting, the music, atmosphere, dialog, everything. Even watched the really cheesy, awful, bad ones. He's thought about hashing out some faint ideas he's had, maybe in script format, but really just didn't have the skill for that just yet. So, he stuck to just observing for the time being.

His favorite trope is "everybody dies". Doesn't mind a good "final girl/boy" or a "beat the shit out of the bad guy/murderer/ghost" ending, either.

...Robin realized/knew he couldn't fight The Grabber, but was super salty/petty about it. Would scratch and bite at him like a damn dog, kicked at him, made it really difficult for The Grabber to literally exist in that basement with him (which was why his death was quick, you alr know The Grabber was 'bout sick of his ass lmfao). Fought like hell until the end and thought about his dad the wholeee time.

Very- .... SUPER annoyed when he woke back up in the basement,,, livid when he saw The Grabber walk in with Finney...

- if he had lived -

I wouldn't put a label on Robin, and neither would he himself, to be honest. Like, even "unlabeled" is a label to him. He truly has the "If they're hot, they're hot🤷🏽" mindset and pretty much has his whole life.

Doesn't even really see the need for labels at all, but if you tried to get him going on that, he'd be more than likely to wave it off so he didn't have to go through the trouble of being misunderstood when trying to explain.

He totally would've been a movie buff/critique. Hell, probably would've made his way into the industry on some film student type shit🤭. Not the best when it comes to actually writing shit out or explaining exactly what he means, but when he has a vision, he has a VISION. Trust the process, fr🤞🏽.

Is totally the target audience for all that action-packed shit. Rocky, Karate Kid, Top Gun,,, very male, very g u y, very macho-manly lmao. Might possibly even be a weakness, like,,, he really can't resist that stuff (not as passionate as he is for the horror genre, tho).

I feel like he would get really into the rap/hip-hop scene. Would also fw r&b mad heavy, love him some Michael Jackson, even dresses diff to kind of fit with that aesthetic...

Couldn't bring himself to cut his hair, though, he's too attached😭. That's absolutely staying, or at least getting braided up or something.

Actually, he was straightening/perming his hair a lot of the time, mostly when he was coming up, but eventually stopped and let it grow its naturally wavy pattern. He would cut off the dead hair as it grew more and healthier (never fully chopped/buzzed it off, though, bc again,,, he couldn't bare to lose the length), and he eventually learned to take proper care of it.

(We love happy, healthy, natural hair over here, y'all lmfao😻‼️).

Would definitely cook for his mom, both when asked and just because he felt like it (or if he's craving something specific for dinner that evening, he'll pull the, "Ama, let me cook tonight, I love you🥰." card so he can get away with cooking what he wants lmfao). Sometimes, he'll send his uncle off with leftovers for work or just make his own lunch for school, boxing, or going to work with his uncle, shit like that.

Still hasn't quite grasped onto baking yet, though. Still burns most of his stuff and has totally given up on making cookies (he's fs the type to end up with one, giant, morphed ass cookie on the sheet and he just has to stare at it in pure disbelief like ">:0..." lmao💀) ...

MASTERED THE FUCKIN' TRES LECHES, THO, LET'S GOOOO🗣🗣🗣‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯

Robin has friendly beef with Bruce bc fym you playing against my man🤨? I think tf not, Finney better win or "...that's your ass, Yamada." Won't actually do anything, tho, Bruce is cool people fr lmao.

More on him as a person, though, I feel like he'd definitely realize he's one helluva looker one day and DEFINITELY use it to his advantage. Charmer, but in a corny way that makes you shake your head and sigh type beat. Not really a romantic, but has and will make exceptions for the right people at the right time.

Even before that, though, he was always kinda cocky and it really only got "worse" for lack of a better word💀😭. Like, he's cute/hot, and he KNOWS it, but he's still gonna play clueless as if he's not looking at you with those big brown eyes and giving you a knowing smirk. Gets away with entirely too much, fs.

Robin's also a certified yapper. Doesn't even have to know you. You give him one good reason to like you or he hears you say something even mildly relating to one of his interests, he'll just start talking to you like he knows you (it's how he's made a lot of his friends, ngl, he's just outgoing and relatively friendly).

Talks mad shit, too. Bro's no better than a woman😭. Gets all the tea from the beauty shop/salon where his mom be going. It's okay, tho, because he's got such good energy and is a charmer in his own way (like I said), so it's hard to dislike him or to want to turn him away from your ongoing convos.

Laughs at everything, but says nothing (if that makes sense). He's sooo... "Nah, nah, it's just...🤭💀*more giggling*"

Bro is just a dork, he's easy to make laugh/entertain, not as stoic as most ppl think he is (regardless of the resting bitch face he chronically suffers from). Dare I say, he's lowkey a little bit manic pixie dream boy coded. No, I won't elaborate♡.

One like on this fic equals one step closer to a cure for Robin's RBF😔🧡.

Only does edibles. He's so scared of something ever happening to his lungs (health class traumatized him, no joke. He saw that model of the charred, black lungs from smoking, and that was all it took. He won't inhale SHIT that's not oxygen bro lmfao💀😭✋🏽).

Would probably cry if his mom caught him smoking anything anyway, so it never even occured to him to try it. He can hide being high, but he knows damn well you can't hide the smell of that shit, so gummies it is🍃✨️☁️.

RIP Robin Arellano, you would've been geeked at the fact that the Halloween franchise is still going 3-5 decades later😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 :

- before his death -

I feel like he got moved around a lot as a kid because his dad was a military brat or whatever (a classic hardass type with The Abuser Mustache™) ((if you don't know what I mean by the mustache look, think about/look up Chloe's stepdad from Life Is Strange)).

It didn't matter where he went/was/moved, though, because it was a dysfunctional home life regardless. Mom and dad always fighting, no real stable income (one of those things where it was like,,, sometimes they came off as well-off and be spoiled, and sometimes, they were going to an off-brand thrift shop for cheap clothes and other necessities), things like that.

So when his dad left, it definitely left a mark on everyone in the house. Bittersweet type of thing because while yes, he was a dickwad, he was still their dad and he cared for them in his own, fucked up way (part of why Vance is so angy😞).

I don't give not one good fuck what anyone says, Jim Hopper (Stranger Things) is that boy's uncle, idcidc😻✨️!!

(I love connecting fandoms thru coinkydink headcannons♡).

Vance is a middle child who has all sisters (five, to be exact. One eldest who's college age, a second eldest who's about a year or two younger than the oldest, one that's basically his irish twin, a younger sister around Gwen's age, and then a baby sister who's still in diapers). And absolutely he would go to bat for all of them (especially them two youngest, he don't play about them and he spoils them to death if/when he can).

Woman dominated house fr, and probably a big part of the reason he isn't fully/entirely off the rails (AND WHY HE WOULD N O T TREAT WOMEN LIKE SHIT. Again, I'm sorry but y'all gonna have to drop the narrative of him treating girls and/or fem readers like absolute dogwater. He knows ENTIRELY better, he's not a crazy monster, bro probably wouldn't even enjoy cussing at you, let alone calling you out of your name with things like "dipshit" and "cunt" and "fuckface" in a "loving" way all of the time, like absolutely not,,, I could go more into this but that's for the next set of hdcns I'm going to pos-...oop, I've said too much🤭- MOVING ON...!).

Speaking of cussing, though... Regardless of what I just said before, I feel like it doesn't mean he still wouldn't curse. Like, no, that boy can work his mouth REAL good. He probably started talking from an early age, too. Dude's first word(s) was probably something really sweet/cute, or something just absolutely vile, no in between💀😭. Maybe both.

Over time, though, he learned when and when not to do so. Like, when/where it was appropriate for him to cuss and when not to. For example, he'll cuss with/at his friends, in front of adults he doesn't know/doesn't give a shit about. But in more professional settings like school or whatever, he'll tone it down because he's trying NOT to get in trouble more than he already has (doesn't mean it's worked, but hey, at least he tried lmao). He cusses at home, yes, he'll cuss around his mom but not AT her, huge difference. Has cussed out his father plenty of times, cops as well. Won't cuss around the younger sisters, but will with/at the older ones. Point is, he's good at gaging the situation.

He's a Leo (birthday - August 10th), but for some reason, I think there's maybe some Pisces in his chart?? I...idk, don't question my madness✋🏽🥴✋🏽. But yeah, he couldn't give two fucks less about birth charts. That stuff not only means nothing to him, but he thinks it's really stupid, too. The only reason he even knows his own sign is because of one of his sisters, and that's it. Knows nothing about what being a Leo entails, doesn't care to find out, and will probably look at you crazy if you bring it up.

He has this fixation with pinball because there was always a machine or a place that had one close by, no matter where he went; he'd used it to drown out memories/high emotions, but now is just addicted to playing it, even when he's not pissed off💀. He was real pissy one day, played it, WON,,, and since then, he hasn't really felt a joy/satisfaction like it. Angry/upset feelings immediately morphed into, "Holy shit, I fucking won...!!" And that was it, he was hooked. Bro probably has the highest score on so many machines across the midwest area and doesn't even know he has this "nobody can beat this mystery Vance guy" reputation states away or something💀✋🏽.

Another thing he uses to distract/sooth himself is music. Not a full music geek or anything, but LOVVVESSS rock/metal music (if you couldn't already tell given his style). Kiss, Metallica, all of that shit. Was dreaming for the day he either got an electric guitar as a Christmas or birthday gift or for when he could save up for his own.

And, because he wanted to further mimic all the cool rockstars he was seeing coming up, he tried a cigarette ONCE, and he ended up hating that shit💀. He fr wanted to see the appeal so bad, too, but he just can't, and side-eyes people whenever he sees them smoke, now.

"Their breath is fucking rank, I just know it..." "They're literally addicted, Vance, they cant help it." "They need to be addicted to a fucking toothbrush and some mint gum🫢🤢."

Like Robin, when Vance got snatched, he fucked with and was doing his best to beat the breaks off The Grabber until the bitter end. He had a better advantage, too, because he's much bigger, so he definitely got good licks in - which led to The Grabber starving him so that he was too weak to fight back so yes, he took his time with Vance, made his death hurt, which just kinda left Vance feeling pissed off and hopeless until he died.

- if he had lived -

He definitely would've learned to calm down a bit; some time and talks with his mother and sisters, some warning calls from Uncle Jim, the threat of actual prison and not just "juvie for a couple of days" eventually set him straight. Still quick to anger, but he doesn't practically kill people anymore😃👍🏽. Don't ... Don't fuck with his pinball machine, though, that's still a very active warning/threat on his behalf.

He also gained a sense of moral justice, so even if he did decide to go apeshit (y'know, for old times sake), it'd be for a valid reason, ngl.

That lady from the Grab'n'Go store fs gave him that pinball machine at one point (replaced it with a lamer game or something, like Pac-Man or whatever). When she straight up realized Vance wasn't going to let anyone else touch that shit, let alone beat his high score, which meant she wasn't getting any business with it, she basically just-

"Ykw, just take it😐". ... "...What :0??"

He was clueless as hell, too, genuinely had NO IDEA why she would give him the ENTIRE MACHINE TO KEEP FOR FREEEEE, but was VERY grateful. His mom even tried to get him to give it back, but that woman insisted😭. "I don't know what you think I'm supposed to do with it if you won't let anyone else touch it, Vance. Just keep it and stop wrecking my store."

He didn't at first, has no clue when or how it happened, but very suddenly and intensely grew a guilty-pleasure liking for superheroes. Really likes The Hulk and X-Men comics and has stacks of them he's both bought and stolen collecting in his room.

Sometimes, he rips them up and makes posters out of them, like,,, rips out certain characters or speech bubbles he likes or whole pages and then plasters them around his room.

Relating to superheroes, kind of... You wouldn't think it, but he's got that Spider-Man mentality where it's like,,, he's always looking out for the little guy. When his sense of moral kicked in, he wasn't just fighting for no reason anymore. Now he was fighting if he saw some fuckers talking mad shit or doing something he knew was wrong on their part, so he'd set 'em straight. Would make sure people he didn't have problems with weren't getting picked on.

Also has a high respect for Robin because he essentially does the same shit, and because while Vance has the size advantages, Robin has the skill advantages that he doesn't. The feeling is mutual, too.

Is very confused and awkward when he is told/finds out girls have crushes on him. Very much like🧍🏼‍♂️.

Not opposed, just... bro don't know what to do with that info, and he sure as hell aint making the first move💀✋🏽.

He's more of a close bond, has to have already been best friends first, and then develop feelings along the way, typa guy. Likes real and close connections that actually have a chance at lasting (especially considering his childhood consisted of a lot of moving around, never really getting to keep friends, etcetc).

RIP Vance Hopper, you would've loved Thunderstruck by AC/DC but slowed and reverbed😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 :

- before his death -

I'm not even gonna lie,,, think of your average, white, classic, all-american poster family from the movies,,, That was his life. Stay at home, quirky mom, breadwinner businessman father, bratty little brother, rebellious older sister, golden retriever dog, snow white cat, nice suburban house with a front lawn and a backyard with a grill and pool, all of that😭.

He's lowkey kinda spoiled, too, for the listed reasons above lmao. Not in a bad way, but sometimes he says or does things that are a little tone deaf and you're just like "😃..." But I mean, if you communicate well enough, he's more inclined to understand.

It's just cultural/environmental difference, fr, that's all lmao.

Billy was doing the paper boy gig to save up for a car. A specific one, too (defo a car guy, I feel like).

I couldn't give details, but I just feel it in my nuggets, he was saving up for a specific car and my boy was DETERMINED, too. Bro was DEDICATED to getting this fucking car. Everyone around him knew it, like he made it very clear his only goal in life at the moment was to get that car lmfao.

I feel like he's a very detail-oriented person, but in the way where it's like,,, Very adhd-coded. Won't clean his room because "It's an oragnized mess, don't touch anything, I know exactly where everything is" type beat. Or like, whenever he has multiple tasks to complete, he'll do that thing where he'll stand somewhere and just start glitching lmfao like when you give a sim too many tasks at once.

He also really likes making lists. But then all of his lists get jumbled up, so he's gotta find the right list for the right stuff LMFAO it's silly, he's silly.

I also think he's a good writer and takes interest in books and poetry. Wouldn't write poetry, but would read it a lot. But definitely has half-assed, pending ideas for his own original stories/books.

And comics, too, he really likes graphic novels, things that have both descriptions and pictures that correspond with one another.

Like Vance, he also really likes superheroes, but unlike him, he's always been into comics and stuff since he was little, so the interest didn't just pop out of nowhere. Not really a Marvel guy. He leans more towards DC, so his favorites are Aquaman and Superman.

He also loves cartoons. Like, to an unhealthy amount. There he is every morning, sat right in front of the TV, no matter how many times his parents have told him to back tf up before he ruins his eyes, with a piping hot cup of coffee, glued to the screen running all of his favorite cartoons lmao. I don't think he'd ever grow out of it, either. He'd be in his 40s-50s, totally adapted to the newer cartoons like The Amazing World Of Gumball or whatever lmao.

You can pry the original Scooby-Doo from his cold, dead hands, though💀.

Billy's a Sagittarius (birthday - December 12th), but I think he also has come Capricorn, Libra, and/or Cancer in his chart. He just seems like a very chill, curious, and understanding person, which can either make people really like him at first or misjudge him (maybe even dislike) him. But at the end of the day, he's very secure in himself and who he is. He knows what he's got going on. And like I said, he loves to learn further and understand, so it's not like he's ever going to purposefully cause problems or anything.

If at all, I think he's also a non-confrontational person, much like Finney. He stays in his own lane, does his very best to avoid conflict, and while sure, he's got a lot of scattered friends from different areas and walks of life and whatever, it's that way for a reason😭. He's just a good dude fr!

He's also more outspoken than you would think at first. Can definitely hold and even start a friendly conversation, and honestly... TAKE HIM TO YOUR PARENTS👹👏🏽‼️. Adults love him, he's very polite and courteous, and they find him funny because he can for SURE crack a well-timed joke.

I mean it, too, I think Billy definitely has a way with words and comedy. He's so on par with all different types of humor, so once he picks up on yours, oh my god, he'll have you crying-laughing lmao.

Like Vance, he's good at cussing, he will cuss you the fuck out with his sassy, petty ass💀✋🏽. Knows better than to cuss in front of adults (like I said, they love him, and he plans to keep it that way lmao), and he probabaly won't call you out your name, but boyyyyy he's got a mouth on him😭💀!

Speaking of, oUUU he's a petty mf, he don't let SHIT slide. Ever. Bro can't fight but whew...!! He be talking shit like he can😭 (he's probably gotten his ass kicked due to this once or twice, ngl, but hey, you live and you learn lmfao).

Billy was a little too calm when he got snatched up. Like yea, he fought tooth and nail when he initially got grabbed off of his bike, but once he was in that basement and after a few days, he sadly just kind of,,, accepted his fate.

What he didn't expect was to be put through the psychological tortures of like,,, being beat or thinking he had the chances to escape whenever The Grabber would give him false hope, that stuff. That really fucked with him up until he died.

- if he had lived -

Oh, you can bet your ass he got that fckn car💀.

He was feelin' himself for WEEKS after the fact, too. He was giving all his friends rides, honking whenever he arrived at places, always keeping it PRISTINE looking. Not a scratch, dent, or spec of dust on or in that mf😹.

Just overall being super obnoxious about it ngl lmfao💀😭 (but he deserves to be, he worked so hard for it and everybody understood that, so it's fine). Got a better job after the fact, too, now that he could actually take himself to and from.

I know I mentioned him drinking coffee earlier, but to expand on that a little more, he was basically always drinking coffee and energy drinks to stay awake and (barely🥴) coherent when he was doing his paper boy job and school at the same time, so he now unfortunately has a caffeine addiction that he cannot shake for the life of him. He's tried so many things, he just can't let go😭. He likes it really sweet, too (he has a sweet tooth).

He'll add a lot of creamer, flavored syrup, sugar... whatever he can find to kind of just dilute the bitter taste entirely, he's throwing it in the mug. Also part of the reason why he's more fond of soda/energy drinks, because at least he doesn't have to deal with that nasty taste coffee has (I'm a coffee hater, hop off😒✋🏽).

Also like I mentioned earlier, he'd still have this weird yet cute thing with cartoons. Like, yeah, he'd enjoy a good movie (indie, coming of age type stuff), but cartoons just really do it for him. Sitting at the kitchen table with his second bowl of fruit loops laughing at Tom and Jerry is his therapy, truly♡.

While he can be out of touch, he's very open and easy to gain understanding from, loves to learn (especially since he's a writer). Just an all-around stand-up guy fr, you can not go wrong with Billy Showalter.

Hell, he can do no wrong😭❤️.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT HIS DOG, WHAT THE FUCK >:0!!!

HE LOVES THAT HYPERACTIVE LITTLE SHIT😭❤️🐶❤️. He's had her for a long ass time, since she was a puppy (idc what anyone says, the goldie is a girl, and her name is Harper), and it truly is the case of a dog is a man's best friend between them. He begged for the dog, got the dog, takes care of the dog, spoils the dog, he loves the damn dog, okay🥲?

He could be stripped of everything he knows and loves, and Billy would STILL make sure Harper was okay first before all. She's such a good dog, too. She's very polite and sweet, and it doesn't take much to get her going. Like I said, very hyperactive, so pretty much all you have to do is say a favorite word ("outside" "ball" "play" "treat" "good girl" "go get..." etcetc) in a certain, happy tone, and now she's all riled up.

Speaking of love, though, Billy's got so much rizz, I can't even fully explain what I mean. I could better convey it with writing, tho (somebody plz request Billy fics).

Like he's just... he's one of those guys you don't pay much attention to, but he could do ONE meaningful (or tbh even meaningless) thing, and suddenly, he's a 10/10.

The type of guy you'd have zero feelings for, but have one singular dream about being with him romantically, and then you'd wake up with a crush on him. He's just got it like that, idk what to tell you🤷🏽‍♀️😆.

RIP Billy Showalter, you and Harper would've loved Courage The Cowardly Dog😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐚 :

- before his death -

He's definitely a popular person, like,,, easy on the eyes, charming with both his words and actions, handsome smile, LOVES to gossip, has a clean-cut, crisp style, and you wanna tell me he doesn't literally know/is on good terms with everybody from every clique? Girl, bye🤭✋🏽.

He'd look at you and say it, too💀.

"Girl, BYE😹✋🏼!!"

On that, though, I feel like his mom very much prides herself on appearance. Not in a vain, controlling way, but just in a "I love and care about my babies, so every time they step out this house, they gonna be looking RIGHT, idc" type of way.

And after a while, he definitely picked that up from her, so he takes it upon himself to always look spick and span.

He's a Gemini (birthday - June 12th), but I think he could very well have some earth placements as well. He'd find astrology interesting, kind of like Finney, but he wouldn't dive too deep into it. He'd know his Sun, Moon, and Rising sign, ask about yours, and unless you went further with it, the conversation on astrology would probably end there lol.

Also, kinda random, but his nickname is "Brucie". Like, idk, it's just fitting. It's not an all the time thing that everyone calls him, but if you know him and if you're close to him, it's kind of like a teasing thing. "Heyy, Brucie, what'cha been up to😹✨️?" You know?

I feel like overall, he's just a very calm, cool, and collected person. Not easy to irritate him or make him mad/upset (but omg, don't do it, he gets feral so fast), and also very understanding. Good listener, which is why he's good with the gossip. Very much resident secret keeper, unless he knows it's something he needs to tell, if that makes sense.

Totally the type to be like, "I won't tell anyone :D!" And then immediately think to himself, 'I can't wait to tell my mom/best friend/Amy lol'. But don't worry, that's the only person he'd tell fr😭✋🏽 (who am I kidding, he's messy as hell, and we all know it).

He do be instigating fs. Will watch somebody like Vance or Robin get pissed about something and be in his ear all like, "Wooowww, I can't believe they'd do that, what are you gonna do? You're not gonna let it slide, are you🫢😗🙃??" LMFAOOO just messy💀😹.

I honestly think of him the same way I think of Benny Rodriguez. Baseball was life to him. Like, it was his passion, it wasn't just something he did because it was a fun hobby or a distraction. Like yes, but it was more than that as well. It was everything to him, and he definitely had dreams to go the distance with it and actively searched and scouted for any and every opportunity to do so.

I also think Bruce is a very thorough music lover. Very non-discriminatory or judgemental, and will honestly vibe to anything. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have his favorites. Just has a wide range, that's all. Also an MJ fan for sure, tho.

Like Finney, he's got a close bond with his sister, Amy (who I hdcn is younger than him), but the vibe is a lot different. You probably wouldn't even know they were siblings outside of the house if it weren't for the fact they look alike. Not because they're embarrassed of each other or anything, they just have vastly different cliques/lifestyles, so the only time they really get to reconnect is back at home or on family outings.

The Grabber took Bruce and he had a wholllle mental breakdown. Like, got in that basement and was a full-on mess, literally inconsolable. Cried at everything for every reason up until he died, and if one were to have witnessed it, it'd be very heartbreaking.

The Grabber almost feels guilty for it, but only because he can't get the sobs, hiccups, and voice cracks out of his head. Ik I just said Bruce is a triple C case (calm, cool, collected type), but c'mon, guys. He's a Gemini. He be switching up😔🤷🏽‍♀️💔. There were maybe two or three key moments where he did something beneficial to himself/was an attempt to escape, but...yeah...

- if he had lived -

Bruce would've fulfilled those dreams on going the distance with baseball.

Or would've done a complete 180° from whatever everyone and even himself thought and would've become a fashion designer. I can't elaborate on this, I just...I feel it in my bonesssss.

Which reminds me, he definitely would've discovered his own style at some point and would've dived DEEP into exploring different things. Trendsetter type of vibe (and it would either be the case of people around would've been eating it up or they would've shunned him, no in between. But I feel like he'd have the charisma for ppl to eat it up).

Much like Robin, actually, he's so the type to be cute and KNOW he's cute, but act clueless lmao. Walking around as if he's not getting letters and gifts and whatnot from secret admirers WEEKLY, flashing a smile and/or a wink at people, all of that. But what makes him even more likable is that he's such a GIVER.

Bro is always giving somebody something, it's just in his DNA, it's all he knows. Not even his parents know where he gets it from, and while it's a very admirable thing he does,,, don't get it twisted, he's not naive, he'll take things and remove himself from your life just as fast if you fuck up. Don't test him, his patience is lowkey surpsingly thin💀.

But yeah, he's always offering his time, his money, his thoughts, his praise, his compassion. If he feels like you derseve it (doesn't even have to know you well, you'd just have to make/leave a good impression on him), next thing you know, he's trying to find out what you like and what you're interests are so he can just pop up later and be like, "Oh, here, I got/made you this :)."

Like SIRRR???🥲💚

But anyways, yeah, Bruce is the resident pretty boy. I mean, he was before, but I feel like he's the type to just get better with age. Bro would be 80 years old looking like a fine ass 45😻. And it definitely is a result of upkeep/routine; he and his mama zon't💅🏽 play when it comes to looking fresh.

RIP Bruce Yamada, you would've loved fit-checks on TikTok if you ever figured out how to use it😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠 :

- before his death -

This neurodivergent little fucker OUUU he's an AuDHD menace to society, a little gremlin👹. Nothing he does or says makes any sense but YES IT DOES like,,,

He's just so inquisitive and insightful; wise beyond his years type. Just one of those kids who have an innate sense of self, society, and the world from a very young age. But it's all thinly veiled behind this glass wall of silly/aloof behavior.

Also, he is a younger kid, so that kind of adds onto the whole "People don't take him as seriously as they often really should" deal.

He's one of those people you either really love for who he is, or you find him very odd and off-putting. Or both. Not that he cares because he knows exactly what and who serves him and what and who won't for the current moment. Like I said, he's just...ahead of himself/time/what people would expect.

But also-

"You ain't gonna tell me shit. ... Suck my dick. ... Suck my dick you fuckman. ... You're gonna be here sucking my dick." That's literally him.

"You ever think the wind is trying to tell us something?" His poor tired mom, probably > "I just want you to stop saying odd shit😮‍💨🍷..." That is also him.

He's a Leo (birthday - July 31st) but I don't believe that for even a second, so I have the theory he's got a lot of earth and air in his chart that overshadows the fact that he's a Leo. I think he's one of those kids that dips his toe into everything, so whether or not his beliefs align with whatever he has knowledge on doesn't really matter. He just likes to know.

So, on that note, he does know some stuff on astrology, knows his birth chart, will tell you his sign if/when asked and will definitely ask for yours if he's curious enough to know more about you. If not, he probably wouldn't ask.

Griffin is everybody's little brother, tho, fr. Like even if you don't really know him or "like" him per se, you always feel some typa way if you see him being picked on or whatever. It's pretty much an unwritten rule in that small down in Denver,,, Do not fuck with Griffin Stagg. Like, even fully grown adults go to bat for him, I'm being so serious right now😭.

Lowkey kind of a teacher's pet. Not because he's a try-hard or anything, but he genuinely does everything he's supposed to. He participates when he wants to, he keeps straight As, he's quiet, all that. So, whether Griffin himself knows it or not, he's on a lot of his teacher's good sides :).

It definitely makes his mom happy, too, which he likes. A total mama's boy all the way (I feel like all of the boys are, tbh, but not in that weird, emotional incest, toxic way lmfao💀).

Speaking of...! Defo an only child of a tired but very loving single mom. A SINGLE MOM WHO WORKS TWO JOBS, WHO LOVES HER KID AND NEVER STOPS😫🗣🎶‼️. That's their case.

And it's not that he's sheltered or anything. He just doesn't have the strongest urge or whatever to go out and do stuff that doesn't - like I said - serve or benefit him at the moment. His mom really does try to encourage him, though. To go out and make friends, to go do something with any free time he has besides spending it in his room or with her. Sometimes he listens.

Sometimes not lmao. He really is a homebody, and if he had things his way all the time, he'd like a nice, quiet, and peaceful environment to be in if he HAD to go out. Like a park but with no kids there or a library. Maybe he'd enjoy an arcade,,, but only if it was on a very slow day and everything was deep cleaned and the machine's volumes were turned down lower and- 🥴💀.

Yeah...

It's not that he has memory or noise/sensory issues or anything (or maybe he does, he honestly wouldn't know for sure himself lol), but he's just got stuff constantly whirring around in his brain.

Operates with the file system (has to open up specific cabinets/drawers and sort through the files, find the exact memory/topic he's looking for, etcetc, it's a whole, intricate system) and even then, that's not always guaranteed.

So yeah, if he's says "I dunno" or "Prolly" just give him a second or two afterwards, because it's not that he's actually forgotten or doesn't know, he's just stalling while his brain lags lmao (he might even be sassing you a little🤭).

When he got snatched and put in that basement, he was calm, but not like Billy, where he just had a moment of acceptance. Calm like,,, more like when Finney was in the basement. Just very observant, scared, and confused. Almost a little painfully naive, which made it easy for The Grabber to mess with him😕.

And he (The Grabber) did for a while, "play with his food" for lack of better wording, before Griffin eventually wised up and started getting a little too smart, quick, and sneaky for his liking. Which led to his death, for sure, because I have a hdcn that Griffin fr almost got out (again, kinda like Finney's case) but unfortunately, couldn't try all the lock combos in time before he was back in the basement and then eventually,,, yk,,, for having tried it at all.

- if he had lived -

I feel like he'd be the type to have explored so many different interests, niches, and just really overall loves to learn. Wouldn't be able to stick to anything, but it definitely keeps him busy. Good at everything kinda guy; you could ask him about/to do anything, and he'd genuinely have surface level knowledge on it.

Human Google. If you wanted help with your homework, project, or just simple research, he'd be the best guide. And he'd open up a little, too, while doing it because not only does he enjoy learning, but he'd love even more for a chance to yap about what it is he knows/has learned without somebody falling asleep on him mid-sentence😃.

His mom. His mom be trying to listen but bless her heart, she be TIRREEED😫. Like Griffin, honey, you might as well be singing that woman a lullaby, she is out like a light😭💀. But it's okay, he understands, so it's not like he holds a grudge or anything.

I also think the more time he spends with a person, the more "character traits" he picks up. Spent time around Gwen? Now he's cussing up a storm more than usual. Hung with Billy for a little while? He's got that sass on lock now. Had a chat with Finney? He picked up on that little nervous thumb biting thing he has.

It's endearing once you notice it, and he's not doing it on purpose. He just mirrors you because well,,, he likes you and wants you to like him, so subconsciously, he just-

*sees you doing something* *now he's doing it too without missing a beat or noticing himself*

He met Gwen, though, and it was a wrap. They were stuck to each other like glue, besties, 4lyfers, and then met Amy and Vance's younger sis and after that?? Even if he was sheltered, he sure as fuck wouldn't be anymore😹.

I'm sure they'd be running around Denver, wreaking havoc and being little sillies together♡.

RIP Griffin Stagg, you would've loved making slime😔🙏🏽 (he'd probably make a whole collection of different types and textures, maybe even sold 'em for a side-hustle lol).

𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐡😌?

I had so much fun writing this even though it took me so long lmao :>. but yeah, little spoiler, I've got more tbp content coming up, most being requests, and then I am slowly making my way down my MASSIVE inbox, so hopefully - in due time - y'all will see more content in general coming from me :).

but, until the time comes, I hope whoever reads this enjoyed it !!/ᐠ^˕^マ!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

anon

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

9,296

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[snaillock]

prompt 1 and/or 6 w Shidou or Karasu x male! reader? i’m fine w gn! as well :)) thank youu <33

this was supposed to be a halloween themed fic since i got this in october but….. also can’t believe ive never written for shidou b4 holy shit

prompt 1: "what are you do-" "look, now we match!" (feat. shidou ryusei) tags: male!reader

event masterlist

you stood outside in the dark for god knows how long until you finally saw your boyfriend’s car pull up to the curb. you opened the door and quickly got in to escape the cold.

“took you long en- ah! oh god!” you yelped as you took in the sight before you. your odd eccentric little boyfriend, shidou, in the driver’s seat. not only was his face completely covered in face paint, making his usual tanned skin completely white, but it also had a red line of lipstick smeared across his lips, paired with dark smokey eyeshadow. all of that topped off with bright green hair worn down which was a very rare sight.

“jesus christ ryu… why do you look like that? why are you dressed as the joker?” you asked frantically, “don’t we have a party to get to right now?”

“chill out babe… it’s a costume party anyway,” he grinned at your startled reaction, “i didn’t tell you before ‘cause you would totally back out if i did.”

“yeah, you’re right. i definitely would,” you let out a resigned sigh before running your fingers through his now neon green hair. “did you really dye your hair for this costume?” you asked.

“don’t worry,” shidou said nonchalantly, slightly leaning into the touch, “it’s just a temporary dye. one wash and i’ll be back to normal.”

“right, ‘normal,’” you muttered before checking if any green got on your hand. which thankfully, none did. “well i don’t have any costume and i don’t wanna be that fucking guy who shows up to a costume party with no costume so i guess we just gotta cancel plans.” you said, in hopes you can finally escape the party you just didn’t feel like attending.

“wait! don’t worry, i got the perfect thing for that! just close your eyes,” shidou said before rustling through a shopping bag he had in the back seat.

“oh god,” you mumbled before hesitantly closing your eyes, “what are you do-“

you grunted when your words got interrupted by his hands slipping something onto your head and over your face.

“tada!” he said triumphantly as he released whatever hard plasticky material he just placed over your head, “look, now we match!”

you glanced at the overhead mirror to see a mask now on your face, specifically a batman mask. the hard black material stopping right above your nostrils. it suited the long black coat that you just so happened to wear tonight very well, too well actually.

“ryu… are we really going to this party as batman and the joker?” you said apprehensively as you stared at yourself in the mirror with a subtle scowl, unsure of going out like this.

“yeah, come on! it’s just another one of my genius ideas.” he leaned over and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you glared at him, knowing how his “genius” plans usually go.

you rolled your eyes, though deep down his antics had you feeling slightly amused. you then sighed, “oh what am i gonna do with you, ryu?”

he admired the way you two looked in the tiny mirror with a large grin on his face exaggerated by his dramatic makeup. “god, we look fucking awesome. we’re gonna be the hottest couple in there.”

he then gave you a big and obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek, leaving a red lip print behind, before starting up the car.

“woah ryu, you’re about to cause a big scandal if batman gets caught kissing the joker.” you let out a soft laugh, playing into his antics, as you wiped the makeup off with your hand. the crack in your unsure demeanor only makes him laugh along with you.

“oh we are so winning the costume contest i signed us up for.”

“wait, you did what?!”

i looked up batman masks on google images and i’m giggling why do they look so fucking goofy

taglist(sign up here!): @leosxrealm @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo @remy-roll @maochira @catmisu @stxxrboy

[i-smoke-chapstick]

What advice or tips do you have for a writer wanting to write the characters from Succession for the first time (Shiv, Kendall, Roman, Tom, Greg etc)

Not sure if this was meant for me, since I haven't yet written for Succession, but I can still try my best to help out! Here are some tips <3 Sorry for the long post.

Whenever I'm writing for a character, I really try to incorporate their canon dialect and dialogues here and there. For instance, Roman stutters on his words quite a bit erratically, and Greg has a lots of "uh"s and "oh"s and awkward, bumbling uncertainty. It's all about the characters voice, because I find fanfics with lots of dialogue to be the most enjoyable! If I was writing for succession, I'd typically try to follow these tips for each character,

Shiv: Shiv sometimes speaks with an underlying tone of superiority, and a lot of her interactions also have fraught tension. When writing a character, you need to look at their insecurities and desires to get a feel for what they want vs. how they express it. Shiv struggles with a desire to prove herself, but wants power. Because of this, she's blunt in all the wrong ways.

This sounds dumb, but I always do a short writing exercise beforehand and I really encourage it! One of my favorite things to do is just imagine the conversation I'm trying to write. For instance, if Y/N were ask Shiv what her favorite color was. She might say something like,

"My favorite color? Seriously, Y/N, that's the question you come up with? Well, if we're going to play this game, I guess I'll indulge you. Let's see... I don't know, maybe the color of money? Honestly, I'm more concerned with the color of success, and right now, it's looking pretty green to me."

Kendall: Similarly stutters like Roman, and can switch between being aggressive and vulnerable.

Here again with the favorite color theory:

"Uh, favorite color? That's a... good question. You know, it's, uh, probably something classic. Black. Yeah, black. It's, uh, timeless, powerful. Like, I don't know, it's just... it's a strong color. Represents, like, the intensity and, uh, the seriousness of, you know, life and business." (Long example, but I'll dive into this!)

Succession characters are very human. The pauses in their words, their overuse of "like" and "uh" (especially for Kendall). I try to use Kendall's "media trained" upbringing as a way for him to spin the question into something flattering for himself. Like if he was in an interview.

While as If we were writing for Roman, he might say something like,

"My favorite color? Seriously? Okay, um, let's go with... I don't know, red? Yeah, red. It's bold, it's sexy. Plus, it's the color of blood, and blood is, like, life or whatever. Or maybe it's just 'cause I look good in it. Either way, red. Final answer."

Roman has a lot more vulgarity in his dialogue, as well as pop-culture references and anything completely outlandish. Sometimes I like piecing together canon dialogue from the show to form answers as well, because the reader can more affectively imagine the character saying it!

Tom: When you're writing a character like Tom, his interactions really depend on whoever he's talking too, and how stressed he is about a situation. If he's speaking to a reader whose a Roy, or more powerful than him in a way, he's fumbling; not trying to impress them per se, but trying to fit in. Also, if in this universe you're writing, Shiv is apart of, Shiv is just a major part of his character in general, he'll probably mention her now and again. Once again, the favourite color theory!

"Oh, my favorite color? Well, I'd have to say blue. It's calming, you know? Reliable. Like a good, steady stock that just keeps going up. Plus, it’s a color that commands a certain... respect. Not too flashy, but still, quite distinguished. And, well, Shiv looks great in blue, so there's that too."

Now, if you're writing for someone like Greg who asks the question, someone who he doesn't view as a threat, Tom is much more assertive and aggressive. He'd be more sarcastic, less enthused, and simply wouldn't care. Might not even answer the question. He has the same loose, condescending tone as Shiv would.

"Oh, my favorite color? You know, Y/N, of all the things you could ask me—my thoughts on the latest market trends, insights on corporate strategy, or even just what I had for breakfast—you went with favorite color. Remarkable. Adorable, really. Y/N, what is this? Preschool? Do I look like someone who has time to contemplate the nuances of the color spectrum?"

Greg: Poor Greg.

"Ah, favorite color, huh? Well, that's a tough one. I reckon I'd have to go with a good ol' forest green. Reminds me of these long hikes through the woods back home. Plus, it's just got this calming vibe to it, you know? Like being surrounded by nature's...embrace." Que the awkward cough, realizing he's ranting or saying things that don't quite sound right.

Greg is more compassionate, more air-headed then the Roy's. He's probably the only one on this list to add a subtle,

"What about you?" To make more semi-awkward conversation.

Okay, Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I really don't think this was meant for my blog, but regardless, I love questions like these <3

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 15

i am very concerned about everything going on with Hot Sauce right now. she knows something is up with Angel, she was at the burnings, she’s looking out of the window for something. i really hope she hasn’t gotten caught up in anything to do with BoE, or some other kind of conflict, i don’t think it will end well for her 

once again i adore the dynamics at play here with Hot Sauce’s little gang. and once again something that is written in a way that makes it initially funny but becomes very sad when you think about it, Honesty doesn’t take the painkillers for his black eye so that he can sell them

Angel is getting progressively more tired and less put together, and was dropped off by someone in a car - i wonder if this has anything to do with when she had mentioned being not quite a doctor, potentially she was some kind of medic in a military context? also i initially make short comments in physical handwriting on my copies before typing them up, and no joke it took me a good five minutes plus rereading all the descriptions of Angel so far to realise that i had written the word ‘doctor’ and not something unintelligible like ‘cleerr’ 

no-one coming to pick Nona up is somehow incredibly ominous, i have a very bad feeling about it given we last saw Camilla and Pyrrha tied up in a BoE van, with no guarantee they made it back 

oh and we have what is possibly an actual name for Angel, Aim. though Aim could still be a nickname for something else 

there’s a lot of mentions of food so far, and what Nona does/doesn’t want to eat. Nona only seems to hate eating actual food, and is fine with eating objects e.g., a pencil, which makes me wonder if thats somehow linked to chapter 7, where Nona mentions being hungry in the dream. and wayyy back in John 20:8 he talks about he and mysterious-Halecto-narrator being hungry ‘rarely’. 

huh, i wonder why Nona is so insistent that Hot Sauce shouldn’t use the term necromancers? ‘zombie’ i can understand, but even Gideon (and Harrow i think?) use the term necromancers and it doesn’t seem to be anything rude. unless it’s a slightly different term with different meanings in whatever language Hot Sauce/the whole city is speaking 

Nona and Hot Sauce are being very quiet and secretive talking about BoE, so it seems to be not quite as open a topic as i had thought. and given that Hot Sauce likely isn't involved with BoE given her apparent dislike of them, i hope she hasn't gotten involved with someone worse or more dangerous

and poor Hot Sauce, she’s seen an awful lot. i can understand why she hates necromancers so much, the description of how they used exploding bodies as lures is just horrifying 

not ‘The Secret’™. i wonder if its about the fact that she can hear the RB? but then Hot Sauce makes a comment about the ‘organ market’ … i’m guessing it has to do with the little mentions of how Nona is unhealthy in some way. and it’s not good that apparently she really doesn’t want to admit it to anyone else, not even Palamedes who could possibly help

Nona’s relationship with Hot Sauce is really very sweet, but given the reality of what/who Nona is vs how much Hot Sauce despises necromancy to the point of calling the BoE ‘zombie lovers’, i’m very worried about what’s going to happen to them in the future

[loversj0y]

omg congratulations on 200!!!! you deserve it :) it would be lovely if you could do so it goes or i think he knows for the event!!! once again so happy for you❣️

i think he knows

event masterlist

paring: wilbur soot x gn! barista reader

tws: alcohol, slightly suggestive (taylor was on something when she wrote this okay?) notes: this is my first time writing any sort of coffee shop au so it was very fun!

word count: 977

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

Crushes were weird. You used to absolutely hate having them, especially when they came quickly. But for whatever reason, this cafe stranger changed that.

He showed up every day around 2pm and always ordered the same thing. He always chatted with you as well, especially given that 2pm came post-lunch rush so the place was mostly empty. You learned about him quickly. His name was Wilbur, and he worked in editing out of an office around the corner. He played guitar in a band, and he really like geography.. He was hot, as well, tall and with slightly curly brown hair that you wanted to know desperately what it felt like to run your hands through his hair. Not to mention, he had a fantastic fashion sense (for the most part) which just added to your attraction.

When he showed up that day, you felt your heartbeat quicken, and it felt euphoric. He flashed you a grin, and you grinned right back at him, having long done away with any notions of being subtle. 

You leaned up against the counter, “Hey, Wilbur,” you already began punching in his order, “How’s today?”

Wilbur chuckled, leaning his arms on the counter, and you were shameless in the way you peered at his forearms. “Today’s been good. Was the lunch rush bad?”

“Other than the business guy whose coffee I almost spit in, not bad.”

“Classy,” he joked, paying for his drink with a smile, “You should’ve. He probably deserved it.”

“I wouldn’t give him the privilege of tasting my spit,” you shrugged, smirking a bit. 

Before he could respond, you turned to make his drink. At this point, your flirting was entirely obvious. And, maybe it was the crush making you feel seventeen again, but God you just had to find some way to really get through to him. So what if it was a bit juvenile. Your phone number written across a cardboard drink holder was a strong way to get the message across. He took his drink, and he gave a smile at the number written there. He waved goodbye on his way out, and it wasn’t long before he texted you, making quick plans to meet for a small date not far from here for the next day.

It was nice, a small and cozy pizza place. You spent a lot of time getting ready, wanting to look really nice. You drove as well, not wanting to risk being late. You got there five minutes early, around 7:25pm. He was already there, sitting in a booth and sipping on a beer. Even from afar, he looked amazing. He was in a black button up with black pants and a white and blue racer jacket on top. You watched as he lifted his glass, taking a sip of his beer, and you felt your face heat up as you walked up.

He placed the glass down once he saw you, grinning softly and standing. 

“Hey, you made it.” He grinned, hugging you quickly.

You hugged him back with a smile, “Of course I did. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He pulled away, looking over you quickly, “You look fantastic. Weird seeing you in something other than an apron for once,” he joked.

“Hey, that apron must be pretty flattering if you actually texted me.”

He flushed a bit, “I guess that’s true. I can’t say it isn’t flattering.”

You grinned, both of you sitting down. There was something so natural about being around Wilbur. Despite the ever-present stuttering of your heart, there was something so comfortable about being around Wilbur. It felt like making yourself at home, conversations rolling easily, as if you were old friends.  You both ordered food and carried on talking, and the date felt as natural as breathing.

The best thing was how easily he made you laugh. His storytelling ability alone allowed small details to become central conversations, and his jokes always made laughter bubble up in your chest. Even better was his smile. When he saw you laugh at his jokes, he always had a wide grin, his smile lyrical and beautiful. You’d never wanted anything more. And he absolutely knew. 

As he spoke, you could feel yourself getting lost in thoughts of a future with him. You wanted to know more about him, even with everything he’d already told you. You wanted to spend time with him and see the darker parts of him. You needed to actually be properly together for that to actually happen, but you wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the details. 

“You’re zoning out on me,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his drink.

“Only a little,” you smiled.

“Care to share?”

“Can’t say I do,” you smirked softly, but you had the sense he didn’t even need the clarity to know what was going on in your head, “What do you say we get out on here?”

He smiled, nodding, “Alright. I walked here, so,”

“Oh, it’s alright. I can drive.” You hummed, and he smiled, nodding and standing. You took his hand, walking him out to your car and getting in quickly.

If you were worried about your own boldness, he didn’t let you feel it for a moment as once you’d both settled into the car, he lightly set a hand on your thigh. 

You shivered a bit under the contact, looking over at him.

“So,” he started, “Where are we going to go?”

You smiled, “I have a few ideas.”

“Oh? I think I know.” 

You smirked, whispering, “Where are we going to go?” 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” You hummed, and he nodded, giving you his address quickly. 

You started driving, and as much as you knew that you wanted him, you knew even more that you didn’t have to tell him. You had a feeling he already knew.

[jowrites]

Intoxicated - 1. A strange first encounter (written)

Main Masterlist Here

Prev. Next.

TW: MDNR!!!! Seriously, this one if going to be very s e x heavy, cursing, sexual themes, mentions of being drugged and SA, more to come...

Jake never liked parties. 

He hated crowds, loud noise, and a bunch of rowdy people he didn’t care to know. He didn’t even like being the President for the fraternity, he hated it actually. So why was he one? Simple, it looked good on resumes and was good for networking. He had a duty as the President to host parties, to pledge in the new recruits, and manage the frat boys and their events. He did his part well, everything he touched was successful. He excelled in everything, but was never satisfied in anything and just couldn’t wait for this University chapter to be over.

The party was in full swing by the time Jake came out of his room. He quickly locked his door, making his way down the hallway of the third floor where his room was. Third floor was always off limits, everyone knew that. So why did he find a girl crouched down on the floor by the steps? He didn’t recognize her, looking down and seeing her on her phone reading webtoons. Occasionally they get the newcomers who make their way in uninvited territory and usually when they see him they run off. He just stared down at the girl, her black hair tied up and he took in her attire now. She wore sweats and a crop top paired with worn out sneakers. She was definitely dragged there. 

“You’re not allowed up here,” Jake spoke, surprising the girl and making her jolt in her spot, looking up at him. 

“Oh, yeah I know,” she said. “The boys let me come up here though while they party.”

“Boys? Which boys?” He asked, raising a brow at her.

“Heeseung and Yeonjun,” she said. “Yeonjun was supposed to let me into his room but I guess he got caught up or something.”

Then it clicked. This must be the girl they were talking about in the chat. He didn’t care to ask about her or meet her officially, but something about her made him curious. Jake was intrigued.

“Your friends?” he asked, as he leaned over the railing and scanned the party below. He was high up and could tell just how packed the party was. He scanned around for his boys who all were on duty to make sure everything went smoothly. If Yeonjun didn’t make it up, it means something must be holding him up and he hopes whatever it is isn’t bad enough to bother him. 

“Yeah,” she said, going back to her phone and reading whatever it was that had her so intrigued. 

“You should be down there with everyone else,” he said.

“And what about you?” she asked back.

“I have other things to worry about,” he said.

“Oh, well good luck, I guess,” she said. 

“Sorry for taking so long, some freshman got wasted and started throwing up in the kitchen,” Yeonjun said, coming up the stairs. “Oh, Jake?”

“Ew,” the girl said, putting away her phone and standing up.

“This is your friend?” Jake asked.

“Uh, yeah, YN this is Jake our President, uhm Jake this is YN, my best friend,” he introduced the two.

“Nice to meet you,” YN waved. “By the way, I’m never coming to one of these things again.”

“What’s wrong with our party?” Jake interjected, overhearing YN’s comment to her friend.

“I just don’t like parties, especially ones like this,” she said. 

“You’re seriously so lame, but fine, fine, you can hangout in my room until we take you home,” Yeonjun walked past the two and started leading YN down the hall towards his room. YN nodded to Jake as she started to follow, as Jake began to frown.

“Jun, go back down I got it from here,” Jake ordered, stopping YN and Yeonjun in their tracks.

Jake walked over and motioned for YN to enter the room as Yeonjun unlocked it, Yeonjun frowning in confusion but walking away slowly. 

“Uhm, okay…” he trailed off. “Call me if you need anything, YN.”

Yeonjun left the two, glancing back and confused as ever. YN eyed Jake suspiciously as she took a seat on Yeonjun’s bed. Jake closed the door behind them and took a seat at his desk, picking up the stress ball on the side and tossing it in the air.

“Are you bored? Did you need anything?” YN asked, confused at the man in front of her.

“You can say that,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Why don’t you like parties?”

“Why don’t you?” she asked back.

“I asked first,” he said.

“They just aren’t for me, too many people,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Jake chuckled, agreeing with her. “Too crowded and rowdy.”

Jake didn’t know what it was that made him follow her here, but something about the fact that she wasn’t dressed for the occasion and was sitting reading on her phone humorously intrigued him. Plus, he kind of wanted to know what she was reading. One of his many flaws was that he just had to know everything.

“You’re a frat President, isn’t it like your job to be around people? Do things…you know, frat boys do?” she asked.

“Yeah, you can say that. I don’t have to like it, but it is part of the job,” he said.

“Then why do you do it?” she asked.

“For my future,” he said. 

“Your future?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” he said, ending it there. 

“You’re a bit odd, but hey, I’m not one to judge,” she said, holding her hands up in defense.

“I can say the same about you,” he chuckled at her. “You come to a party dressed like how you would walk around your house, and you’re sitting there reading webtoons on your phone.”

“I wanted to be comfortable,” she said. 

“Hey, I don’t blame you,” he said.

Something about the way he looked at her started making her feel a little uneasy. She was left alone in a room with a stranger. The last time this happened it didn’t end well and left her broken and traumatized. Her hands began to sweat and she started looking around for things just in case, in case she needed to defend herself. Now, she really felt like cursing Yeonjun for leaving her alone. Jake could tell something was wrong and began looking around the room as she was looking around, confused by her actions.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is this the first time you’ve been in your best friend's room?”

“I’m just looking,” she said, when a ding was heard from her phone and she quickly picked it up to read the text.

Yeonjun: I’m right outside, don’t worry. Jake is a good guy, he’s safe. A little odd, but you’re safe xoxo

YN sighed out in relief. Yeonjun always knew when she needed him, and he was always there to ease her worries and take her out of her mind. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked, looking up at Jake.

“A walk?”

************************

The two of them walked in silence, down the campus and away from the party. Jake had his hands in his pocket as he trailed next to the girl who just took in her surroundings. She seemed a bit paranoid and it made Jake uneasy himself. She was glancing around and behind, any small noise she startled and hid closer to his body. He wondered if she had stalkers given who her family was.

“Is there something I should be worried about?” he asked her.

“Oh, uhm no. Sorry,” she said, looking down in embarrassment. 

She knew she had to be brave and just deal with it. But she didn’t like being out at night, that’s when bad things happen. 

It was YNs first year at college and she attended a party with some friends. Or so she thought they were friends. Her drink ended up getting spiked and her friends just left her there, at this random place with these random people who used her as a game. Her innocence was stolen from her and she just had to live with it. She went through all the protocols and her parents brought her home, getting her the help she needed to heal. But she never really healed, she just learned to live with it. Or so she thought. 

“Do you have to deal with stalkers?” he asked.

“Oh, no not really,” she said. “You know who my family is, don’t you?” 

“The guys talked about it in the chat, I don’t really know who they are but I know you come from a famous family,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I assumed you got stalked, sorry about that.”

Oh, great. So he’s just another one of these people who just care about her status. Just when she thought she could make another friend, he only cares about her status.

“Yup.”

The two of them walked in silence again, YN picking up her pace to get out of this awkward situation. She wanted nothing more than to be home already, so that’s exactly where she led him. Jake didn’t take much notice, he sort of zoned out and was left in his thoughts. He found comfort in the silence, and he was glad she invited him out so he could leave that awful party and get some fresh air. He also noticed she smelled really good and it was intoxicating and left him wanting more of it. All of it. 

Jake didn’t know how much time had passed, but he soon found himself in front of one of the new apartment buildings, the streets being lit up around them and not being on campus anymore. He looked up at the building and around him as he watched the girl walking away towards the entrance. 

“Thanks for walking me home, Jake,” she said, not giving him another glance and waving him off.

Did he just get scammed into walking her home?

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes and Romance

Part One 🥰

Dean x reader

A/N: this is my first ever written piece on here, so let me know what y'all think, much love my little twinkies💞

Warnings: Talking of killing, swearing, police case, not sure what else.

,..............

The smell of freshly grounded coffee beans fills the cozy little coffee shop. There's about six or seven tables in the middle, but you always choose the little corner seat, mostly everyday you sit there, watching people, listening conversations, finding inspiration.

No one except the waitress ever notices you, though that's the way you like it, sitting there admiring the way autumn takes over the leaves, its always been your favourite season ever since you were that little girl, running around, playing with the leaves, your parents would get so mad at you, for messing up the garden, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your thoughts get inturupted by the waitress, need a fill up? Ah! Yes please Julie, I'd appreciate that, not getting much work done today, saying with a smile. Sure, Julie said, you'll get there, one day I'll know what you do for a living I guess... You laugh a little, yeah one day.

It's not that your in the secret service or something, its just, you are a very private person, despite the fact that you're a social media influencer, and an author of three best selling books. You're actually busy working on a new book right now, but its going slow, you need inspiration of the male character, but just can't seem to find one, hell you can't even think of one, and since its one of those spicy romance books, you can't exactly base the character loosely on your brother, that'll be damn weird. Deep in thought, you hear the bell of the door, chime, welcoming a new customer. You look up from your laptop and see its two men , one man looks like a freaking giant, brownish hair, kinda messy looking, hanging over his ears, the other one a bit shorter but still tall, with his dark blondish hair, neatly spiking in the air, with a little stubble beard enhancing the already amazing, sharp jaw line, pink rose plump lips forming a smile when he excitedly said, with a kinda gruffy voice, look Sammy, they've got pecan pie. Yeah okay! Let's take a seat, and try to behave said the taller one.

You can't help it, you are drawn too him, like a moth to a flame, you quickly look in your flower tote bag, grabbing your sketch book and favourite pencil, and with out waisting anymore time , you pick up the pencil and start sketching the outline, of his nearly perfect face, getting swept away in the aroma of the coffee, the outline of his face, the way his savouring every single bite of the pie, you just have to sketch this man, maybe you can loosely base your books character on him, damn he sure is good-looking you think sketching away.

.............

Damn Sammy, this pie is just what I needed, Dean said. How is it possible that we never came to this coffee shop, Dean said, looking over at Sam eating his salad, dude he said, live a little, try some pie! I'm fine, thanks man, you know I prefer healthy choices Sam said with a not amused look on his face. Yeah well, whatever, I prefer living a little, we can die at anytime with our line of work Dean said.

Dean can hear a sort of muddled sound of his brother's telling him something, but can't really focus, in the corner, is a woman sitting with black jeans and a black top with a long mustard yellow jersey, with flat shoes matching the black, the light coming through, shining on one side, making her appear like an angel, with a messy hair bun and loose pieces of hair framing hair face, she's wearing glasses with a purplish frame, complimenting her pale, white skin, she's biting her lip, while focussing on something, not quite sure what it is. She is medium built, definitely not the type of women he goes for with their sleek long legs and high heels, but damn she was beautiful, a kind of beautiful Dean had rarely seen!

Dean! Hey! Dude! Snap out of it, Sam said while hitting Dean on the shoulder! What! Is your problem Sam, Dean said frustration clearly in his voice. What the hell man, I've been talking for the past few minutes, and then I just lost you. Bite me, Dean said. Clearly confused Sam taking a bite of his salad, you okay Dean, is it this case that has you all worked up? Yeah maybe! We need to get this guy before he kills anyone else, Dean said frown visible taking another bite of pie, keeping an eye on you in the distance, thinking you take his breath away without even saying a single word...

[spiralinghours]

“Filth”

Fandom: Saw (obviously)

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm

Rating: R (18+!!!)

Warnings/Content: humiliation, degradation, pig mask!, slight pig play (basically animal-esque name calling and degradation), feeding kink, weight gain kink mention, untouched release, mentions of eventual penetration and oral

Summary: Set during V while Strahm sneaks around the Gideon meat packing plant. After being attacked in the back halls, but before ever getting put in a trap, he identifies his captor… and it takes a sexually charged turn.

Author’s note: There’s not much plot to this and yes, you may read it and go “Why would they suddenly do that?” Because it was written on a very excited whim. Idk, comments welcome I guess? I dunno if I left anything out. Enjoy.

Upon sliding back into consciousness, Peter experienced the sudden dreadful rush of not knowing where he was, how long he had been out… how and why he was knocked out to begin with. Whatever had done him in had tranquilized him into a dreamy fuzz, even as he woke. The point of impact was making the dull soreness start to throb on the side of his neck, just between the thin, tight strings of muscle. An injection, that was it.

Fitting every little bit together, Peter noted that he sat upon a rolling office chair that looked and felt like it had been fished out of a dumpster. He wasn’t fastened down (yet, he warned himself, thankful just the same), but it looked as if someone was prepping him for something. His tie had disappeared… probably in the pile off a little ways where his knife, gun, badge, and wallet sat, like a QVC shopping display. With his buttons undone, chest haphazardly exposed, he wondered what procedure was connected to the strange tank hovering nearby.

Something else in the room had moved, though everything blended together into neutral obscurity. Still, whatever—whoever—it was was too late to leave or go unnoticed.

“Shit,” it murmured. It had a voice… a quiet and somewhat rough, familiar one.

“Wait…” Peter mirrored the low whisper. “I know… I know who you are!”

It was coming back, slipping into the correct cracks of fading memory. A masked figure, not as tall as himself but imposing no less, had stopped him as he descended down that back hallway in the meat packing plant. ‘Stopped him,’ Peter scoffed. Stabbed him, injected him, more like. He knew better, and this is what he got for proceeding without the patience for backup.

But the figure that brought him here had to be who was mumbling around in the darkness right across from Strahm. That wasn’t the only point of familiarity. The voice could be placed, Peter just knew, he just—

“Detective,” he breathed out, question mark hanging with uncertainty.

No response just yet, which had to mean he knew he was caught.

As Peter’s eyes adjusted to the silhouettes, he recognized how well the form did in fact match Detective Mark Hoffman’s sturdy, stout build. The fact that the previously unnamed figure had started shedding his bulky black coat to reveal a blueish button down and suspenders underneath was the incriminating nail in the coffin.

“You were told not to proceed,” Mark finally commented, mask still on in hopes of saving any last bit of his identity. “It was for your own good.”

“You motherfucker. I should have known. Shifting around the precinct, acting all nice but barely covering your tracks. You stupid idiot, you don’t have me fooled.” Peter stood up, not knowing why he hadn’t chosen to until now. “I got you!”

Mark shuffled cautiously over, something calculated in the way he stepped. For being put on the spot, he presented himself so calmly. “What’s happening here doesn’t leave this building, I can assure that.” As he leaned towards Peter, in an act of intimidation, his thick chest and belly grazed him softly.

Peter sizzled with something along the lines of rage, determination, and… foul, bitter intrigue. It wavered between that and contempt, but the confusing whirl perked a devious grin across his lips.

Mark, all the while, did his best not to drop his glance on Peter, who had already woken up way too early, before he could even put him in the cube trap. Now there was more room for other errors, wrong moves. Mark began lifting the mask up over his chin, wanting full, uninterrupted sight of his target.

“No, keep it on,” Peter insisted (instructed, more like) with a satisfied sneer. “Keep the pig mask on.”

“Freak,” was Mark’s muffled reply from within, layers of latex and a big snout making his annoyed grumbles come out like breathy snorts. (Peter enjoyed that.)

“Go on, gimme a little oink oink. A little squeal.” Peter’s thick, arching brows made his expression even more devious… downright hungry.

“Fuck you,” Mark exhaled, realizing his sharp eye roll went unseen. Despite the scathing response, something in the way Peter was pushing him, goading him, cruelly trying to make a spectacle of him made his knees unconsciously press together. Ugh.

“I’m waiting,” Peter went on in a sing-song taunt, hands resting on his hips. It wasn’t dissimilar to the mocking tone he used in interrogations more than occasionally.

“Oink,” Mark acquiesced flatly. “Cunt.”

“Ah, ah, that’s not nice. That’s not what I asked for.” Peter advanced, encroaching on Mark’s personal bubble. “I want to hear you really squeal,” he spoke in a low, hushed tone. Immediately, as if prepped to actually wrangle and tie up a hog, he thrusted himself over as much of Mark’s bulk as possible, throwing his arms around him from behind and wiggling his fingers into his sides.

He was being tickled, Mark managed to observe throughout the flinching and irritation. And not only tickled, but squeezed on at the most sensitive part of his hips—his thick love handles, nothing more than fluffy layers of excess.

He did, indeed, let out a reflexive sort of squee—much higher and shrieking than his normally low voice would imply.

“There it is,” Peter grunted against the neck of the mask, keeping himself low, dense, and tight over Hoffman. (He was generally leaner than Mark, sure, but he was broad enough to stay wrapped around him… Not to discredit the incredibly physical training of the FBI to be ready to tackle someone at just about any given moment.) “Fucking pigfuck.”

Despite trying to detach himself and accept what was actually happening (not at all expected in any version of his plans, no matter how much he was taught to anticipate), everything was overshadowed by the burning shame of how the current situation was making Mark feel. Deep in his core—and in his pants—he was throbbing, and the more he felt embarrassed and ridiculous for strangely savoring it, the harder he felt himself get.

“There are so many layers to this joke!” Peter cackled sourly, a twist of syrup in his voice. He really could be so disgustingly, deliciously rude. “A fucking cop parading around in a pig mask. In a Jigsaw mask. Wow, and here I thought your precinct was just stupid, messy, lazy even. Like I bet you are. But wow, now that I know what’s going on...”

Mark almost lost the plot, realizing he wasn’t struggling as much anymore, and that he probably should have been… or should have at least pretended. “What’s your fuckin’ angle?” he finally spat out, tilting his head behind him to Strahm (even though it didn’t further his advantage in seeing past the mask’s eye holes).

“Detective, I’m just playing. I’m having a little fun. And if you want this to stay under wraps—all of it—then maybe you’ll play too.” The tickling had ceased a minute ago, and Peter’s hands were just resting heavily on Mark’s hips, seeming to want to roam around.

Mark, meanwhile, couldn’t believe the greasiness of this FBI agent. Mr. Quaffed-Hair and All-Business (Anything-At-Any-Cost) was just as dirty and fucked as anyone in his own department. Damn. And a fucking pervert on top of it all.

But what was he going to do? Let himself get caught? Let this smug fed bastard win and take him in and smile about being a hero? Act like there wasn’t some sheer layer of fucked up pleasure in being degraded throughout it all?

Strahm had moved on to the next impulsive thought. Still clawing into Hoffman’s thick waist, he dug his finger tips in, letting them sink and press against tight fabric and pillowy flesh. He positioned his hands further to the front, hefting Mark’s belly and letting it wobble solidly. Then he did it again. There was a surprising lack of give to his gut.

“You been packing the donuts away, Detective?” Peter hummed. “Such a pig. In so many ways. I’m eating this up, you pathetic fuck.”

Mark could feel the snide grin curling up Peter’s angular face, burning right through the layers of mask between them. “Shut up,” he tried to shoot back, not at all believable or in line with his usual bravado. “What else do you want?” The logical part if his brain was asking in order to obtain the eventual outcome, the escape, the solution. But deeper south, the question was more asking “What else are you gonna do to me?”

“As much as I love this,” Peter emphasized his intention with a startlingly soft rub over Hoffman’s lower belly, “I want you on on the floor. All fours. Like the nasty, stupid animal you are.”

“Bitch,” Hoffman bit out, juxtaposing the way he complied, folding his sizable form down to the ground. His cheeks heated at the way his gut hung down, smoothing out any creases in the fabric, pressing tightly against his suspenders and maintaining contact with his thighs. He knew Strahm was looking, fixated, salivating. He wanted him to. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

Strahm stood tall over the sad, hulking visage of Hoffman on his hands and knees. He relished the view, stepping his heel down roughly on Mark’s lower back.

“I wanna see you just like that, with a little dish under that fat fucking face, just snorting and oinking while I watch you. You’d like that, huh? You filthy pig. You’ll stuff your face ‘til these pop off, won’t you?” Peter had basically sat himself onto Hoffman, as if he was a pony, and snapped at his tight suspenders to illustrate the point.

Mark, in turn, gave a regrettable sort of whimper, which, through the low oxygen under the mask, made him huff a little as well.

“Panting already?” Peter tsked. “You haven’t even done that much yet. And I haven’t even gotten to stuff you.” He craned his head low. “And I know you’d like that, no question. I’ll get you so fat.” He breathed out the last sentence with sugar dripping slowly, threateningly.

Mark absently ran one of his large palms from the crest of his belly to the dampening crotch of his pants, and back again. “You gonna fill me up?” he rasped out, trying to curve a little sarcasm, a little laughter into his tone.

“In more ways than one… if you’re good,” Peter grinned wickedly. “If you’re a good boy.”

“I’m a good boy,” Mark agreed huskily, trying to mask his eagerness. If only Strahm could see the way his eyes darkened, lids lowered, under the mask—the uncomfortable lust across his face. But he was nothing more than a blank, expressionless animal for Peter to use and admire.

It made Mark so flustered, so disappointed with himself. It made him hot.

“That’s right,” Peter went on, breathing heavier himself as he spoke, “you dumb animal. You’re already so turned on by this, huh? How I’m talking to you? Disgusting.”

“You’re the disgusting one,” Mark panted some more, words not necessarily cutting, but laced with pleasure and the seek for release.

“Yeah, and you love it. Now, if you’re gonna mess yourself like that, go ahead and finish. But you better keep those hands on the floor.”

“How the fuck am I—“

“I know you’ll finish, even without your grubby hands on your dick. Because you’re so close. You’re so fucking desperate.”

“You’re such a prick,” Mark (embarrassingly) just about whined.

Peter leaned down, still mounted on the dip of Mark’s back, mouth close to where his ear under the mask would be. “Yeah, and it’s getting you off isn’t it? So’s the idea of me coming into your office to find you leaned back in your chair like the big boss you are—” Peter’s voice squirmed into a dopey, mocking voice. “—shoving donuts in your face, too fucking round to even sit up. What a fine use of time and tax dollars. You’re so full and you’re stuck and you can’t even zip your pants back up, and just to make it worse, I come fill you up even more.”

Both men were admittedly getting shaky, heavy breaths filling the damp room like an echo chamber of horny, unfiltered babbling.

“Tell me, Detective, would you want to take it up your big fat ass, or would you rather suck me down ‘til you can’t take anymore.”

“Fuck you, Pete.”

“Only if you say please. Now what’s your answer, stupid?”

“Both,” Mark finally grunted, coming all sticky in his pants as he did so.

After finally yanking the mask off and flinging it across the room with fervor—sweaty, worn—Mark took the moment to catch his breath and try to buck Peter off of him, like a wild horse. He couldn’t quite manage, but Peter was nice enough to remove himself… before launching into a whole rant.

“So, the story goes, I came in here to do a sweep—a little preemptively, I’ll admit—but I did find you, the only survivor of Jigsaw’s game, and I helped you out of the restraints. The end.”

“You know, I could have gotten out of the trap myself.” Mark’s expression was somehow both dull and sassy at the same time. “Maybe a strap broke and I was able to undo the rest.”

“Yeah, a strap breaking on you I can imagine,” Peter teased, tone snarky and dry. “But no, Jigsaw doesn’t make mistakes, so that story doesn’t fly. You’d know that, wouldn’t you?”

Mark eased into that expression he often made when he wanted to roll his eyes without actually doing so. The corners of his mouth lowered into a skeptic near-smile, and his eyes flicked brightly under lazy lids. “Fuck you tenfold.”

“Maybe,” Strahm replied, a venomous grin forming. “I’ll be seeing you, Detective Hoffman. Maybe I’ll drop by your office sometime.” He marched ahead with fast footsteps, not once looking back at Mark.

Mark wondered when that office visit would be.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

So I can't work out if I hate this or not but here you go

This feels very different from the other fics I've written before. More supernatural vibes I guess? Still depressing tho. I seem to be incapable of writing happy fics.

But enjoy... whatever this is!

Tagging @saturn-sends-hugs and @inkstainedhandswithrings

Depths of Despair

Echo and Fives find themselves in a dire situation

CW: blood, violence

They just wouldn’t stop. Wave after wave after wave. Joints creaking, mouths gaping, hands grasping. Fives shook his arm as he felt another creature dig its fingers between the plastoid of his armour and into soft flesh. He had already determined from an alarming number of close encounters with these things that they didn’t have claws, but their nails were so ragged, and carved so deeply, that they may as well have done. Fives was fairly certain that he was bleeding under his blacks, but now was hardly the time to focus on that.

A blaster shot. The creature shrieked and crumpled to the floor, looking no less off-putting as a malformed heap on the ground than it had done when it was scrambling towards him just a few moments ago. Fives glanced sideways at his brother, who had gone back to fighting his own attackers after saving Fives from another close shave with death. If one thing was for certain, it was that he was glad to have his brother here with him. Suffice to say, without his brother having his back, he would have been toast more than once by now.

Although, if there was a second thing to be certain about in this very moment, it’s that they were both certainly going to be toast within the next few minutes unless a miracle happened, like these creatures dropping dead, or disappearing, or simply deciding that tearing two ARC troopers to ribbons was not nearly as fulfilling as they currently seem to think.

Simply put, they were done for.

Firing his blaster at anything that was within shooting distance, Fives inwardly cursed his superiors every which way he could. Rex and Cody had recruited the twins for a scouting mission, pitching a simple drop and search of an abandoned building in the middle of a wet, rotting forest. Admittedly, “abandoned building” and “wet, rotting forest” were two perfectly good reasons to have said no and to curl up in a bunk with a warm cup of caff instead. However, the two had insisted that it was fine, and that a commander, a captain, and two ARCS were more than capable of handling a mission where the worst of their worries would be wet socks and bug bites.

In comparison to the current situation, wet socks and bug bites sounded like an absolute dream.

The four had decided to split off into pairs in order to cover as much ground as possible, and for a for a while, nothing of note seemed to have appeared for the twins. The planet was exactly what you would expect for something covered in old, damp forests: wet, mulchy and rather gloomy. The smell wasn’t great either. A plethora of leaf litter meant that everything smelt like decomposing vegetation, and that smell clung to their clothes like a sad, mildewy fog. The building had definitely seen better days, with cracked tiles, window arches without any glass, and weeds sprouting from every crack they could squeeze through. And on top of all that, the air felt heavy. Not just because of the (frankly near-unbearable) humidity, but because the air almost seemed to thrum with energy. Fives wasn’t quite sure how to describe it other than the atmosphere seemed to vibrate at a low frequency that was starting to give him a headache, and the air felt dense enough to carve a knife through it. It wasn’t exactly paradise.

He and Echo were verging on turning back and finding the others to announce their rather lacklustre findings, when they had stumbled across an old atrium. Wide and circular, with a domed roof that seemed to have stayed far more in-tact than the rest of the building. There were no windows, so the only light filtering in was through the arches down the corridor they had just exited from, making it even more gloomy and depressing than everything else Fives had had to wander through up until now. It had seemed rather nondescript. Kind of cool (if you were into old, mouldy architecture) but non-descript, and Fives was ready to turn around and find somewhere dryer where he could put his feet up.

Or at least, that was the plan. The moment they turned around to head back the way they came, the ground had started to tremble. A low rumble that sent a strong vibration through Fives’ bones and made his already nagging headache twinge even more. Some of the floor had begun to move down and before they could fully comprehend what was happening, the twins had found themselves standing on a pillar of stone in the middle of a gaping chasm with absolutely no way to get back to the exit. Brilliant, thought Fives, this is just what we need.

Although, looking back on it, the initial confusion and annoyance was far better than what had come next. At first it had just been a whisper in the dark, a low hum at the bottom of the deep column of black around them. And then it started to get louder and louder, a series of shrieks and clicks and snarls that grew in volume and in number until gnarled hands started appearing over the edge of the platform. The place was clearly nowhere near as abandoned as they had originally thought.

And this was how the Domino Twins had found themselves fighting for their lives against hordes of… things that Fives wasn’t even sure how to describe. They were vicious: biting, tearing, clawing. It was starting to look rather dire. They didn’t seem to stop. As soon as one was taken down, another would appear from the dark, just as nasty as the one before. Exhaustion was starting to kick in, a deep ache that was dragging Fives down, making it harder and harder to keep fighting. Echo seemed to be fairing no better, looking just as bloody and beaten as he felt. Fives flailed as his foot skidded on a loose pebble behind him. His boot managed to find stable ground just a fraction of a second before he had to duck out of the way to avoid an outstretched hand that had almost gouged out his throat. He was really not looking forward to the fate that lay out before him. Being left in pieces, smelling like iron and mouldy leaves. Definitely not the hero’s ending he had imagined. And definitely not an ending he had imagined sharing with his twin. The Domino Twins. Live together, die together.

And get found by their superiors in a miserable heap together (assuming Rex and Cody hadn’t already met a similar fate. Fives was starting to hope that they had).

Fives felt sticky. Whether it was from sweat, or blood, or the general humidity, he wasn’t sure. Probably a combination of all three. His blacks were clinging to him uncomfortably and he could feel drips of moisture running into his eyes, making it harder to see the creatures attacking him. Fives grunted as he felt something shove him in the centre of his back and he whirled round to blast the monster, pushing the corpse off the precipice with his foot to take one of the living ones down the hole with it. He spun to take out another one that was gunning for his side and struggled to keep his footing as his boots slipped on the damp stone beneath him. There was no time to stop, to breathe, to take a break. The attack was relentless and Fives wasn’t sure how much he could take.

He heard Echo grunt beside him and glanced over to find that his brother had been knocked on his back, helmet cracking against the ground. Fives battled tirelessly to fend off the attackers gaining ground on his twin, who was trying to reorient himself as his head spun and black dots danced before his eyes. Fives’ watched Echo shake his head slightly before he lay, groaning, staring up at the ceiling above him. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He started pushing himself up, only to flop back down, looking intently at the dome above him. Either that or he had fallen unconscious. Fives really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“You with me, vod?” Fives yelled over the shrieks and growls of the creatures around them. “Echo? Are you with me?”

“The ceiling.” Echo wasn’t moving much and Fives was beginning to struggle even more with the number of things he was trying to fend off.

“What about the ceiling?” He grunted as he dodged another swipe at his head. “This is hardly the time to be admiring the construction work, Echo!”

“No. I mean, there’s something written on the ceiling. It’s hard to read though.”

“Okay, brilliant, someone decided to carve some words into a ceiling. I’m not exactly sure how that is helping us right now!” Another set of teeth came at him and he staggered as he tripped over his own feet trying to avoid it. “Are you able to get up? Are you injured?”

“Maybe.” Echo groaned. “Probably.” He began to shift slightly but showed no signs of picking himself up off the floor. His blaster was held in a trembling hand as he shot in the direction of a monster coming at him over the edge of the platform. This was hardly ideal. Fives was struggling hard and his brother couldn’t even bring himself into a sitting position. Hope was dwindling. And fast.

“There’s something strange written up there.”

“Kriff, Echo. Are you seriously still trying to read it? This isn’t helping! I don’t see how some nonsensical ramblings from some person who is probably long dead are going to get us out of this mess!” Fives could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. They were going to die. This was it. Yes, Fives had been in a number of situations where he had questioned his own survival, it was part of the job, but this was different. This time it truly felt like it was over.

“It could be important!” Another grunt and another weak shot from Echo’s blaster. “This is obviously some kind of trap! What if the words can help us?”

“What sort of moron writes the escape plan to a death trap on the ceiling? Nobody! It’s pointless!”

“Okay, well maybe it’s not a trap then! Maybe it was a challenge of some sort!”

“The biggest challenge I have right now is trying to keep your sorry ass alive while you ramble on about ancient scribbles!” Fives fell as he was pushed again from behind. He scrambled up and skirted sideways to avoid stepping on his twin, who was still sprawled on the floor. Echo’s foot flew outwards as he kicked one of the creatures off the side and his arm swung out sideways to smash his blaster into the face of another.

“I’m telling you, there’s something there, Fives!”

“Stars, Echo, I don’t need this right now! Are you able to get up or are you going to lose consciousness on me!” Fives was starting to get desperate and it was making him snappy.

There was no response.

“Echo? Echo!” Panic ran through him like ice in his veins. “Are you okay, Vod? Oh kriff no, please stay with me.”

“I have it.” His brother’s voice sounded distant and weak.

“What?”

“I know how you can get out of this.” Well that was unexpected. Fives’ heart stuttered as his brother slowly began to push himself up off the ground, loosely waving his blaster at the never-ending tide of monsters.

“Really? How?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Okay, well this isn’t exactly an ideal situation here! I think anything would be better than this!” Fives strained against the deep ache in his bones and the pain that coursed through his muscles. “Wait… Did you say how I could get out?”

Echo refused to look at him, keeping his attention entirely on the creatures around him.

“You meant we, right? Like both of us? Because I’m not leaving you behind!” Still no response. “Echo!”

“We can’t get out of this. Not together.” Echo’s voice was hard and cold. That worried Fives. The only time his brother’s voice ever went like that was if it was bad news or if Echo wasn’t going to take any arguments. This felt like both and that terrified him.

“What do you mean, Echo?” Another dodge, another swipe, another groan of pain as Fives rolled out of the way of more blows. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to get you out of this, okay?”

“Please, vod. I need you to stay with me here."

“Either one of us goes, or we both go. I’d rather you got out alive.”

Fives felt pain and anger course through him. “And you want me to leave you here to die? Are you insane? I can’t do that, Echo!"

“You have to”. Echo’s voice was still cold but there seemed to be an underlying weakness, like his throat had closed up and he was trying to swallow down his emotions. “I need to do this, Fives. You're my brother. I have to protect you.”

“But what about you? I’m supposed to be protecting you too!”

“You’ve done more than enough, Fives.” Echo stumbled over, fighting his way towards Fives. He grasped his brother’s shoulder and looked at him, eyes obscured by the scratched visor of his helmet. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Echo…” Fives’ voice trembled. “Please, vod. What are you doing? What are you doing!”

No response. Echo simply gave his shoulder one last squeeze before he turned and ran forward, grabbing two of the creatures in front of him, clinging to them as he dragged them along the platform.

And right over the edge.

“Echo!” Fives fought as hard as he could, pushing his way over bodies and through flailing arms and ragged nails. More monsters came, clambering over the edge, mouths wide open, strings of saliva hanging from their lips. But no Echo. Fives felt his heart clench and his eyes sting. He gasped and struggled, trying to fight his way to the precipice, to where his brother hadn’t returned.

Suddenly, everything went white. He felt a burning sensation behind the eyes as a bright light filled his vision. His breath came out staggered and uneven. His chest felt tight and sore.

“Fives? Fives can you hear me?” Fives felt cold.

“Come on, vod, come back to me.” The light began to fade and the atrium began to reform in front of him. He felt a cool presence along his back, hands resting on his arms. They were cold. He could feel it. But there was nothing there.

He could see himself fighting, moving, swinging and blasting and scrabbling to fight off the hoard. But he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel himself moving, the strain of his muscles, the strength of his grip. He couldn’t feel himself moving. It was like someone was moving his limbs for him, puppeteering him.

“Come on, Fives. I need you to concentrate. Come back to me.”

Fives tried to focus. The voice. It sounded comforting. Familiar. It sounded like-

“Echo?"

“Heya, vod. You back with me yet?”

But Echo wasn’t here. He couldn’t see him. The invisible hands were still on him. The coolness was still there. He had to be dead right? This didn’t feel normal.

“Echo?” His voice was weak and trembling. He could still feel his body being moved even without him trying.

“Fives, I need you to focus alright? This isn’t going to work with just me controlling you. That wouldn’t be any better than us fighting individually.” The voice sounded like it was next to his ear, but not quite. Close but distant. Warm but cold. “You know what to do. Keep fighting and you can get you out of this. I can help you.”

Fives fought to come back to his senses. He felt the sting in his muscles as he swung his arm at an attacker. He felt the joints in his legs creak as he launched himself forward. And then he felt light. Each move felt easier and quicker. Each blow fell harder, each blast hit cleaner. He felt the cold grasp on his arm tighten, felt the coolness sharpen. Everything felt like a blur. Creatures shrieked and fell and tumbled and crumbled and collapsed. The floor became even slipper with blood but Fives kept going, kept pushing. Because he felt stronger, faster.

Like two people fighting in one body.

He doesn’t know how long it went on for, how long it lasted, but eventually, the tide began to dwindle. Fewer monsters came. Fewer claws grabbed at him. And then… they stopped. There were no more. Fives stood, breathing heavily, surrounded by bodies and drenched in sweat. It was over.

“You did good, vod. Well done.” We felt a ghostly hand squeeze his shoulder and then nothing.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. The world came crashing down around him as he struggled for breath. He could feel the ground below him tremble again as the chasm began to rise up, as the floor sealed back into place, bringing everything back up with it. Every body, every broken and bent creature and…

And Echo.

Fives gasped and heaved. He wanted to throw up but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him. His throat burned. His eyes watered. He wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He was frozen. It was too hot. He could feel himself burning. The sweat was running down him and he just couldn’t catch a breath. His ears rang and he felt so utterly and completely alone. The coldness was gone, the presence was gone. He felt heavy and drained and broken.

Echo was gone.

There were footsteps thundering down the hallway, but Fives couldn’t hear them. The sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening. He still couldn’t look away.

Cody and Rex came barreling into the room and stopped.

Fives stood, gasping, panicking, scratched and bruised, surrounded by bodies and staring. Staring and staring and staring at the crumpled heap of blue white and red in front of him.

And then he screamed.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! I hope you like the confession twist in this chapter! Please lmk what you think!

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: None? Dm me if I need to add anything here...

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter sixteen: A Hangover and a Confession

The building Easy company was celebrating in, roared to life with chatter and music. Light seeped out from every window, illuminating Joe’s surroundings enough that he could see a few feet in front of him. 

After walking back from the women's barracks alone and in silence, Joe looked up to the stars once more. He usually didn’t stop and take the time to stare so intently at something so trivial but Bernadette’s amazement in the inky black sky filled with twinkling lights had ignited something in him. 

As he gazed upwards trying to recall where she had pointed out that belt, he found himself distracted, only able to picture her face, the sweet smile she sent him, her round eyes and the musical lilt of her laugh. 

A particularly loud bout of cheers broke Joe from his stargazing. He didn’t want to go back into the party, but what else was he going to do? Return to his barracks and sleep? No way, not while beer was flowing and cigarettes needed smoking. Sobel very rarely allowed merriment and fun so Joe would take the chance to do so while he could. The idea of walking back and finding Birdie for some conversation or another stargazing lesson popped into his head, instead Joe swung open the door and walked into the celebration.

Immediately his attention was pulled to a boisterous group of men he called friends, they each had a drink in their hands and were enthralled by the gripping chit-chats they exchanged. He smiled and grabbed a drink for himself before joining them, pushing aside his thoughts of the girl from Mississippi.

Not even a full minute later and he had heard her name. 

Across the table, Malark had spoken of her and Joe’s ears instinctively perked up. The redhead was talking to Sergeant Lipton worriedly, he was sharing his concern for the girl. Apparently she had promised to ask Lipton for an escort to her barracks and now the man thought she was missing, as Lipton said he hadn’t seen her for at least an hour. 

Before Don could panic too much, Joe butted in, “I walked her back.” He spoke the words so casually that both Don and Carwood second guessed themselves. Had they heard him correctly? 

“You?” Donald pointed at Liebgott, double checking the meaning of his shocking words. Joe nodded as he sipped his beer, suspiciously nonchalant. Lip and Malarkey shared a look, eyes widening at the implication. 

“And she’s….” Carwood began, fading out as he couldn’t find the words to finish his thought.

“Alive?” Don called out brashly, shrugging when Lipton threw him a disapproving look. That wasn’t exactly what he meant but it was close enough. Both men turned to Liebgott, curious about his response. 

“She’s fine.” The San Fran man shot them both a strange look, tilting his head slightly. Did they really think he would hurt her?  “She was drunk.” Don laughed and Lipton rolled his eyes and muttered, “She only had one drink.” 

Now it was Don and Joe’s turn to give each other knowing looks, they had both seen her sneaking alcoholic beverages all night, unbeknownst to Carwood. He caught on quick to the unspoken insinuation and gave an exasperated sigh, of course she had more than one drink. 

Carwood strolled away, leaving Liebgott to chug the remains of his drink in an attempt to keep the woman out of his mind, which was easier said than done. The entire rest of the night he kept tuning in to any conversation that mentioned her. Every time he caught himself eavesdropping he skulled whatever was left in his glass immediately and stomped off to get another drink.That night was, without a doubt, the drunkest Joe had ever been in his life.

The next morning was a nightmare. Joe was so used to waking up at the crack of dawn, that his body did this for him automatically. He wanted to pull the blankets over his head and curl into a ball but that wouldn’t help now that Joe was awake and he highly doubted he’d be able to get back to sleep. He lay on his cot listening to the men in his shared barracks snoring away, peacefully unaware of his torture. Every snort felt like it was getting louder, splitting Lieb’s skull, so eventually he got up, unable to endure it any longer. 

Luckily, Easy was given the day off to recover from the previous night, which meant no early morning exercises or dull lectures to sit through. Liebgott changed into his OD’s and made his way to the mess hall, some coffee would do him good and knowing what shenanigans his friends got up to the previous night, he suspected not many would be there, that equalled silence.   

He was right, of course. Most of the easy company men were sleeping off the night of drinking and the ones who were here, sat quietly most likely nursing throbbing heads and queasy stomachs. 

Joe headed straight for the caffeinated drink, poured himself straight black coffee, no sugar and sat down to sip away at it. As he sat there, inhaling the strands of steam rising out of his cup, a melodic voice infiltrated his ears.

Bernadette’s tawny brown hair came into his view, followed by Bull’s large frame, the two walking side by side looked funny. Birdie seemed shorter than usual and Bull looked like a giant next to her. 

The pair of southerners found seating next to each other and chatted happily, at one point Birdie playfully slapped a hand onto Bull’s shoulder while laughing. Joe narrowed his eyes, what could Bull being saying this early in the morning that warranted that reaction from her. Surely he wasn’t that funny at 0600. 

Liebgott turned his attention away from them, trying to ignore their endless communication. Every time they shared giggles, he shrunk closer to his cup of coffee, glowering at their joyful mood. 

After what felt like hours to Joe, but was really only ten minutes, Bull excused himself and left the mess hall. Birdie glanced around at the other inhabitants of the room and her eyes fell on Joe, hunched over his drink, sulking. She imagined he’d enjoyed himself at the party and was more than a little hungover. She honestly hadn’t expected to see him up this early, so she just about skipped over to the table he occupied. 

“Morin’ ” Bernadette sang, sitting across from him with her own cup of coffee, hers was almost entirely milky white and loaded with sugar. Joe glared up at her, unimpressed, he hummed at her gloomily. 

“You drink a lot last night?” She was enjoying this too much, smiling at him with that bright cheery look. Ugh, he couldn’t stand that delighted expression on her face. He didn’t even know why he was so mad about it, it was probably the hangover. Definitely not the fact that he had been listening to her all but flirt with another man for the past twenty minutes. Not that he cared who she flirted with. 

“I’ll take that as a-”

“Jesus! What do you want, Coldwell?” He spat the words out quickly, cutting her off and stunning her into silence. She didn’t answer him, she just sat there blinking at him. Studying his features, trying to understand his attitude change from the night before. She had hoped they could start being more friendly with one another but obviously she was mistaken. 

George Luz walked in and she decided to make conversation elsewhere, somewhere she knew she was wanted. Birdie stood and left without another word; Joe, quite plainly didn't want her to speak to him so why should she put the effort in? 

“Hey, Luz.” The woman chirped.   

“Birdie.” He greeted in return. She went with him as he collected his breakfast and sat at an empty table. George filled her in on the highlights of the party after her departure, he let her know that Malarkey had freaked out when she left without telling anyone and gone to Lipton. So she expected someone to tell her off later today, most likely the Sergeant. 

She pretended not to notice when Joe glared daggers her way, she brushed it off with a joke to George who laughed heartily. For some unknown reason, the happiness coming from the pair pissed Joe off to the point that he stomped out of the mess hall, huffing and growling words under his breath. 

“So, what are your plans for today?” Birdie asked her friend, choosing to ignore Liebgott’s temper tantrum. She was confused about him On the two occasions they had been alone together, he was surprisingly nice to her. He had told her she’d belonged in Easy just as much as everyone else and even complimented her, and then last night he took interest in her stories of the stars. 

Birdie had noticed his way of thinking was similar to her own about the tiny scorpion, even her own brothers thought she was weird for siding with an arachnid. She assumed that maybe they could drop the animosity act and start forming a friendship but the way he snapped at her made her rethink that. 

Then again, he could be really hungover and she was being loud very early in the morning so perhaps she should let that one slide? 

It registered that George had been talking to her while she zoned out thinking about a certain Californian man. She caught the tail end of what he was saying and pieced together that his plans were to lounge around and enjoy the time off. 

“You have any time for me today? I wanted to talk to you about something.” Bernadette and George were close, not as close as her and Toye or Guarnere but still very good friends. She liked spending time with him, he was funny and they got along easily. He agreed to hang out with her for a bit after breakfast as some basketball games were penciled in for the afternoon. 

The pair walked around camp for a bit trading stories of their hometowns. Birdie spoke about life on a ranch while George countered with his suburban childhood. They had a fair amount in common, coming from large families with almost twenty siblings between them, so both Birdie and George had countless memories to share.

Eventually, they found themselves settling in the shade of an oak tree at the edge of the training fields. 

“I have something I wanted to ask you.” Bernadette suddenly went serious. She adored George and wanted to let him know that she would always adore him, no matter what. 

“Ah, is this your ulterior motive? Get me out here by myself and take advantage?” He gave a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension that built between them. Birdie noticed his somewhat shaky laugh and lack of eye contact and her hand shot out to his bicep, soothing her friend as she squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“We’re friends, right?”

“You're being weird, Birdie.” He was smiling but his hands began busying themselves, plucking strands of grass and twirling them round. Bernadette kept her voice quiet and calm, hoping this might ease him. 

She had a suspicion about the man in front of her and how he was hiding his infatuation for a certain someone. Birdie may have been way off base confronting him, it wasn’t really her place to bring this up, she knew that. But she cared about George and needed him to know she was understanding of his repressed feelings and would be on his side at any cost. 

She had been through a similar situation before and missed her chance to show her support to someone important to her. Maybe this was her way of rectifying the lost opportunity.  

“I just want you to know… you can tell me stuff. And I would never think of you any different…” The woman didn’t want to say the word, in case she was wrong and he got offended, the last thing she wanted was to upset the ray of sunshine.

His face dropped. “You know, don’t you?” It was whispered, like a shameful secret he didn't want to speak any louder, just in case.

“I think I do… you don’t have to say it.” He had all but confirmed what she thought she knew, but she recognized he wasn't exactly jumping to discuss it. “I just want you to know, I’m on your side. Always.”

“You can’t say anything.” He paused, “To anyone. Ever.” Seeing the jokester so serious and solemn was spine chilling. 

Bernadette saw a flurry of emotions in his eyes, fear, nerves and a small twinkle of appreciation. He hadn’t ever said it aloud and he was glad that he wouldn’t have to, George could go on being George and he knew if he did want to share things with someone, Bernadette would be right there, waiting for him.  

“I won’t. I wouldn’t do that to you, Georgie. Not ever.” 

A/N: Birdie and Georgie friendship is everything to me! How do y'all feel about it?

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter seventeen

[thatoddgent]

Request? Open? Well don’t mind if I do. Could you maybe write me some fluff to gentle smut with AFAB reader, dewdrop and aether or rain/Swiss (really any ghoul, your pick). And could reader go by he/they or they/them (whatever is easiest ❤️), Curley short black hair and allot smaller than dew? 💕💕💕💕💕🫶🏻 your the best, take your time, I love you, get some rest, meal and water!

I’m watching! 🦆

Togetherness (Dew/Aether x Reader)

Thank you so much for requesting again! It's really fun trying to figure out how to write for these guys, and I really hope that you like it. I haven't written smut especially in a really long time so I'm sorry if I'm a bit rusty!

A/N: First smut on the page, I'm still trying to figure out the personalities I want for each of the ghouls, it's been a little harder for the guys for some reason. I'm keeping the snark/attitude that a lot of people write for Dew but toning down the straight up douchiness, and I'm thinking of going for sarcastic but very caring and goofy for Aether, basically combining bits of fanon and their stage presence.

Characters Notes: AFAB transmasc reader, he/they pronouns. Short and petite, dark curly hair (some details might not be mentioned)

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Warnings: Established poly relationship, threesome, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral/handjob, gentle hair pulling (more gripping than pulling). Nothing is super hardcore, meant to be very lovey dovey. Not proof read, but y'all probably guessed that lmao.

The halls of the ministry were quiet, most people still laying in their beds trying to make the most of any sleep they can squeeze out from the day. The sun began to rise, warm light flooding in through the stained glass windows, drowning the stone walls in gorgeous colors.

Luckily, all bedrooms were equipped with beautiful velvet curtains that shielded tired eyes from the hurtful rays. Though, that didn't always stop a few glimpses of light from finding their way in, and today that stray beam made its home in the face a ghoul, whom had been nuzzled beside their lovers under their sheets.

Eyes shut tight, he groaned softly and wiped the sleep from his eyes, looking over to see if either of the other two had been awoken as well. A smile crept its way to his lips at the sight, you and Dew were still fast asleep, huddling closer to compensate for the lack of warmth the larger ghoul had been providing just a moment prior.

With a yawn and a stretch, Aether pulls himself from the comfort of his shared bed, starting his morning routine while letting the two of you sleep in. He took a look at the clock that was hanging on the wall, there was still a bit of time left before the church bells range, he may as well do something productive to make use of the time. He pick a shirt from the closet and throws it on along with his mask, no one should be up yet so no sense in trying to look pretty.

Making his way to the door, he makes sure to open it softly as to not wake the both of you. Once out of the room he makes his way to the kitchen to make his morning coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light shines on your face and your eyes flutter open, you try to look around to see what's going on and wince a bit at the sudden change in brightness.

Looking up, your eyes meet the backside of your larger lover, and you can't help but crack a small smile.

Aether stands at the window at the end of the bed, opening one side of the curtains in an attempt to let some light in. He turns around to return to what he was doing but catches a glimpse of you in the process and makes his way over to you.

"I'm sorry love," his voice still gravely and tired "I didn't mean to wake you."

He nestles a hand in your hair and pulls you head closer to his chest, gingerly placing a kiss at the top of your head.

"I was due to wake up soon anyways," you assure him "Don't wanna get a headache."

A loud snore is heard from behind you, and you both chuckle a bit. Dew has a tendency to sleep in late in you let him, he's always more awake at night and tries his best to avoid any fresh sunlight.

Another snore is interrupted by Dewdrop waking up, his head snapping in the direction of you and Aether. His eyes squint, and he reaches his arms out to grab you by the hips, yanking you back into his chest.

"Really just gonna leave me for another man? I thought you were better than that."

He talks right in your ear, his voice low and a bit raspy, it sends a small shiver down your spine.

"Alright you ass, give him some room," Aether lets out a hearty little laugh. "Just woke up and you're already in a mood."

You wiggle your way out from Dew's grip and shimmy out of the covers, seething a bit as your bare feet touch the cold floor. As you go to stand up, Aether pulls you into a gentle kiss, your eyes going a bit wide at the unexpected action.

"Sorry, you just look... Amazing, in this light I mean."

Now that he mentions it, the light in the morning does really accentuate the details of the room, and the three of you in it. Looking up at Aether, you see how it almost radiates off of his smile. His eyes gleam, his messy hair shadows over his face just right, his shirt clinging just a bit to his arms...

You find your eyes lingering, taking in every curve, every muscle and vein, and slowly your eyes move further and further down.

Dew finds his place behind you again, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on the top of yours. Looking down, he spots you staring, and maybe it's jealousy or maybe he just wants to start something, but his head moves back down to your level and his lips just barely caress the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his touch.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

He opens his mouth and his tongue drags across your ear where his lips once rested, his teeth nip softly at your skin. Aether stands in front of the bed, watching the scene in front of him unfold curiously.

"You could at least be staring at something pretty."

The tingle that you felt earlier returns, and your eyes shut tightly. You feel a hand find its place on your jaw, pulling your gaze up just a tad, and Aether's voice rings out now, barely above a whisper.

"He didn't say to stop, did he? The bells haven't rung yet, so we have a little time for... appreciating each other."

Your eyes open and you just stare with doe like eyes, your mind racing faster than you can manage, head still fuzzy due to not being completely awake.

Dews hands slowly creep to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it slowly above your head. Aether does the same to his own clothes, him and Dew both sitting comfortably in their boxers. Your face heats up at the sight of them both, your head filling up even more with crude thoughts rendering you essentially useless.

The two ghouls look at one another a laugh, appreciating just how easily they manage to get you worked up.

Aether sits next you you on the bed, a large hand roaming you body until it finds the spot right between your legs. He applies just a bit of pressure, palming you softly through your underwear making the smallest noise escape from your throat.

Dew leaves the bed and kneels down in front of you, scattering little kisses, licks, and bites all along your thighs. The both of them focusing their attention on you, the feeling of them both, it's almost dizzying. The heat between you thighs begins to build up, and when you look down you see Aether's fingers start to shine. Dew's eyes steal your attention for a moment, a deep ember filled with lust, his pupils large and dilated, he's waiting.

Both of them are.

Ghouls are known to be predatory, and your ghouls are no different. They love the chase, they're addicted to wearing you down and toying with you until you're ready to beg for any sort of relief. As loving as they seem, they're the cruelest kind of predator really. The kind that plays with their food.

And there it is, the very thing they were waiting for. Your lips open just slightly, barely letting that single word escape from its confines.

"Please."

And just like that, you watch Dew's pupils shrink as he stand up quickly, pulling you carefully into him for a kiss. Aether leaves a few kisses on your neck before pulling his hand away from you, reaching down to pull his boxers from his hips. Once he's done he moves to help Dew with his own, both of them standing totally bare in front of you.

The two of them really are polar opposites, from personality to their body, and you're reminded of that every time the three of you have moments like this. The light of the morning makes it more obvious, Aether having decent length but more girth than he knows what to do with, and Dew being skinny but making up for it in length, it almost makes you laugh.

The kissing stops when Dew pulls away from you, he tips his head to the bed and Aether takes the hint. He sits with his back pressed against the headboard and carefully pulls you into his lap facing away from him, Dew also climbs into the bed, standing on his knees in front of you.

"Now," Dew speaks up. "You remember the drill hot stuff. You say the word and we stop, we don't want you pushing yourself this early if you can't handle it."

You nod and smile, for a man with such a huge attitude, you always appreciate the time he takes to make sure you three are comfortable together, the both of them do.

With that out of the way, both ghouls let their hands roam your body for just a minute longer before Aether lines up his hips with your own. You lower yourself slowly, letting the hands on your hips guide you on your way down. Aether presses the tip to your entrance, before gently rocking his hips and easing his way into you. You let out a comfortable sigh at the feeling of him filling you up, the subtle stretch of him always catching you by surprise. After an experimental thrust or two, you completely settle into his lap, letting every inch of you wrap around his length. A low groan slips out from his lips as he bottoms out, his hands massaging your hips while he gives you a chance to give the other ghoul some attention.

Dew must be feeling left out, because almost as soon as you and Aether give him the okay, he's placing eager kisses on your lips. They aren't hard, but they are a little messy, he isn't usually one for patience anyways. His hands snake up into your hair, gripping it carefully as he pulls away, he sits up again, and his hips sit eye level with you.

Hands still in your hair, he guides your lips closer to him, letting you move more at your own pace. You lick your lips and part them, letting the tip of his dick carefully slide between them. You bob your head slowly, going deeper with every couple of movements, earning ourself a couple of sighs from the man above you.

You get a steady pace going, wrapping a hand around the bit you can't comfortably handle and pumping it in time with your mouth. You grind a bit into Aether's hips, letting him know you're ready for the both of them now.

The feeling is always a little overwhelming at first, both of them filling you up, it should be embarrassing, but the way that they touch you, and the sweet things they mutter under their breath leaves no room for anything other than the love you feel for the both of them.

The two of them create a rhythm between them, making it so you're never left empty, it's borderline intoxicating. You try to moan, but any noise is turned into muffled whines due to your mouth being occupied. Every time you make noise, Dew can't help but buck his hips just that much deeper, they feeling of him hit the back of your throat makes your head spin again.

Aether also get ahead of himself sometimes, some thrusts turning into him grinding right against that soft spot inside of you. You can tell that the both of them are close, Dew's grip on your hair becomes tighter, and Aether's thrusts become deep and slow while he becomes a mess of praise beneath you.

"So good for us," Ather bring his lips to your ear. "You're so, so good for us."

"Perfect," Dew says, almost correcting him. "You feel so perfect."

The praise starts to become to much, and you turn into a whimpering mess, your orgasm coming close, and fast. Dew goes from smirking to biting his lip, he lets go of your hair and his hands shoot up to his mouth. You bring your lips further down around him, his dick twitching softly against your tongue as his cum shoots in the back of your mouth. An almost pathetic whimper erupts from him, his hands doing almost nothing to mask it. He pulls out from your mouth as you swallow his head dropping down to you level again.

"Like I said, perfect."

His hair falls perfectly around the both of your faces, he places a kiss to your forehead and starts to talk you through your own orgasm. Aether's thrust are starting to get messy now, and his praise has been dumbed down to simple words.

"Good... So good... So close."

He grabs your hips, a bit harder than he means to, and pulls you into his hips, grinding deep into you and letting out a guttural moan. That sound, the sudden hot feeling of him shooting everything he's got into you, that's what pushes you over the edge. Dew pulls you into a kiss to muffle your moaning, and Aether lazily thrusts into you, helping you to ride it out.

Your mind is hazy and all you can think of is the feeling of them against you. Dew pulls away from the kiss with a hand holding you cheek, and Aether pulls you backwards to lay into his chest. And just as you begin to get comfortable-

Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.

The three of you can't help but laugh at the perfect timing, and the two men help you to sit up. Aether moves from beneath you and gather your clothes, Dew finding a clean towel to help wipe you up with. Both of them help you to get dressed before moving on to get ready themselves, but before they pull on their masks you plant a small kiss on each of their cheeks.

"You two have a good day, I love you."

The two smile, and as they begin to walk for the door, Aether give you a gentle rub on the shoulder.

"Every day I spend together with you two is a good day."

You smile, and look to Dew to see a devilish smirk on his face. He's definitely going to prove that wrong.

You laugh to yourself while they walk out the door, and as you finish up getting ready for the day, there's only one word on your mind.

Together.

[unclewaynemunson]

( 🥐 anon )

hiii !! i have two ideas! you can choose whichever!

fairy and eddie making flower crowns

mermen steve and eddie making shell bracelets

Aaand another one, yaaay! okay so idk if you know the song mermaid bar by maya hawke but that heavily inspired this thing. Go listen to it if you don't bc her music is *chef's kiss*

TW for mention of death / suicide (if you're reading this and have issues in that area, please talk about it with a safe person in your environment or call your country's suicide prevention line if necessary)

---

It had been days since Eddie had last eaten. He was preparing himself to never eat again because that beast-like feeling had terrified him right to his bones. It had been more instinct than anything else, something primal and desperate trying to keep his weakened, hungry body alive. His sharp teeth cutting into the diamondback terrapin, its raw flesh dropping into his stomach and awakening something awful deep inside of him.

Eddie used to love turtles, before he fell into the Hudson river and his ribs separated to make space for gills; before his legs turned into black and silver scales shimmering in the light that filtered through the waves; before webs sprouted between his fingers.

He had left the Long Island winter beaches behind him now, coursing to the open seas and wondering how long he would last on his empty stomach, half hoping he would get caught in a fishnet or encounter a ship. But no such thing happened. He was all alone with the fishes down here.

Until he saw something that weirdly looked like... a building. Like a house, a human house, or maybe a shed. His curiosity suddenly kicked in again – a familiar feeling, finally, thank whoever caused this whole predicament – and he purposefully started swimming closer.

It didn't take long before he could distinguish that it was a wooden building, decorated with all kinds of shells and half overgrown with corals. Sardine Dream Mermaid Bar was written right above the front door, in uneven and slightly wobbly letters. The door was open and since Eddie's curiosity was growing by the second, he swam inside without even thinking about it.

'Ahoy!'

And holy shit. Behind the counter of what was unmistakably a very real, actual bar, was possibly the most beautiful creature Eddie had ever encountered. His brown hair was dancing around his face in graceful waves, his toned arms were covered in all kinds of shell bracelets, and his bare chest... Well. Eddie was pretty sure he'd lose his consciousness again if he were to keep looking at that chest.

'You can talk!' Eddie thought out loud, and hey, apparently, he could talk too. 'I can talk!'

The creature – mermaid – boy – person – smiled a smile that was ridiculously beautiful despite his scary sharp teeth.

'Yeah, we can talk.'

'There's more like you?'

He kept smiling. 'Way more. You can hear them singing, if you listen closely.'

Eddie froze in his place as he listened intently; and sure enough, very faintly, he could hear some kind of ethereal song carrying through the water.

'I'm Steve.'

The stranger held out his webbed hand and Eddie hesitantly shook it while telling him his own name.

'So I take it you're new?'

Eddie nodded dumbly.

'Alright, I bet you're hungry, then. I'll get you something to eat. What do you want? Oysters, caviar, scallops?'

'Um, scallops is fine, I guess.' Eddie's empty belly started twisting nauseatingly at the promise of something to eat – something he wouldn't have to kill between his own teeth. Or at least, he hoped that was what Steve was going to serve him. He didn't exactly know the rules of whatever this was.

'What is this place?' Eddie asked while Steve turned around to prepare a plate for him. He caught a glimpse of the golden fishtail that had been hiding behind the counter and – wow. He had never seen colors like that before in his life.

'It's um... A refuge, I guess,' Steve told him. 'I opened it when I ended up here. It's a place where people can come if they're in trouble, or if they feel like they don't belong anywhere, you know.'

And oh, Eddie could relate to that. He took the plate that Steve held out to him and gratefully dug in.

'Jesus Christ this is good,' he murmured around his full mouth, gaining himself another smile from Steve before he closed his eyes to properly revel in the rich taste on his tongue.

'So how did you get here?' Steve asked.

'Fell in the goddamn river,' Eddie managed to say between two bites. 'Fuckin' stupid really. Partying in New York. Drunk, high, you know how it goes. Slipped, hit my head, and that was it. Or, well, that was supposed to be it.' He dropped the mussel he had been holding to make jazz-hands. 'Yet here we are.' He swallowed another bite. 'What about you, how did you get here?'

'I jumped.'

'You jumped in the –' But before Eddie could finish his question, understanding dawned over him. 'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay,' Steve said. 'I'm happy to be here, actually. Things are much better now. Not everyone is lucky enough to land in bubbles when they fall.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Eddie mumbled quietly, thinking about his mother and how she had fallen, back when he was little. There certainly had been no bubbles to catch her.

'Hey.' It sounded soft and Steve tilted his head a little bit, staring at Eddie as if he was trying to figure him out. 'You can stay here for as long as you need to,' he continued. 'I'll teach you everything you should know. We have this – this ritual.' He gestured to a tall jar that was standing on the counter between them, filled with all kinds of shells in various shades of white. 'This is our tip jar. Everyone leaves some shells when they come here, and we use them to bind ourselves to each other. I'll make you a bracelet right now, to make you part of the community. And when you feel that the time has come – when you feel at home here, when you're ready to navigate this world without me – you can return the favor.'

Eddie let his gaze wander to Steve's forearms, both covered in bracelets.

'So these are all from people you helped?'

The sudden bashful look on Steve's face didn't escape Eddie's notice.

'Yeah, I guess I did,' he said, almost like it surprised himself.

With his belly filled and his human instincts finally returning to him, Eddie felt brave enough to stretch out his hand and gently trace the bracelets on Steve's left arm with his index finger.

'It'd be an honor to give you a bracelet of my own someday, Steve,' he said softly.

And when he saw the look in Steve's soft brown eyes, it suddenly didn't seem so bad to Eddie anymore that he had fallen into the river.