#hes got permanent eyeliner for some reason

[ccieatchildren]

A Dance, Darling?

TW: Noncon Kissing, Implied Kidnapping, Almost Panic Attack, Intimate Whumper, Forced Relationship

Whumpee brought their fingers up to rest on the rubies encircling their neck. It was not as extravagant as they had expected from him, but it was still hefty enough to feel each individual jewel press into their flesh, a constant reminder on their skin.

Leaving the necklace alone, disturbed by what it represented, their eyes travelled up to their face in the mirror. Their makeup was all red. Lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, each a dark shade that could only be accomplished by Whumper mixing some of their own blood into the cosmetics. They shuddered at the memory of the experience.

Whumpee groaned as he made another cut on their back, pressing the clear vial under the opening. The blood prickled their skin as it made its path down into the small jar.

Whumper brushed his lips against their neck, “we have to make sure you look your best.” He pressed on each side of the wound, drawing out more of the scarlet substance. The flow of red now rushed into the container. 

They sobbed, while Whumper watched in fascination.

Underneath the bandages, their spine pulsated at the memory, and they could feel the beginning barbs of phantom pain. Whumpee shook their head, freeing themself from the thought. 

Moving along, their gaze moved further up to their hair. Whumper had asked– told– them to put the small red jewel feathers he gave them in between the locks. In any other situation, Whumpee quite enjoyed the look of them in their hair, it was as if their hair was a flower sporting red leaves, but here, their image was immediately soured by who gave them to them.

They frowned. Another chain.

Their hands moved down to follow the curve of their dress. It was a deep crimson, matching their makeup and jewellery, and flowed down to their ankles. A hole was cut out at their chest, causing Whumpee to scrunch up their nose in distaste. It was shoulderless with a high slit on their right side, showing off their leg and the scars that adorned it. 

Whumpee hated it.

They were not very used to wearing dresses in the first place. They would thought it beautiful on someone else, but it felt foreign on their own skin. It complemented their figure too well, emphasizing their chest, hips, and waist in a way that made them feel like a piece of meat on display. The slit showed much more skin than they were comfortable with and Whumpee was paranoid that they would accidentally flash someone. They kept tugging the fabric down, but there was nothing more for it to do. Whumper’s intent with the dress was clear. Flaunt the prized lamb he bought in the auction. 

However, they would prefer the objectification over the reason he actually chose this dress for them. 

Easier access.

It made them nauseous. Their fingers itched to rip and tear the dress off themself. Strip themself of the shame and fear.

Whumpee slammed their hands onto the sink, pulling their attention away from their apprehension and resentment. In, out. In, out. In… Out… Drawing in each breath worked to ease their misgivings. A technique Whumpee relied heavily on throughout their time here. Inhaling fresh air, exhaling all theirworries. 

A few seconds and Whumpee was back to their original state. 

Not normal, not calm. But manageable. Never fully calm again.

Their eyes drooped down to the final piece tying their ensemble together, the gold band that encircled their left ring finger. Part of them enjoyed covering up the scar from his teeth, hiding how they were now permanently tied to him. The other part of them knew this was just a fancier shackle. A more obvious cuff for the public eye.

They fiddled with the ring, twisting it back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. God, they just wanted to throw it out the window and watch as it got lost to the city forever. 

They slowly pulled the bond up their finger, only thoughts of release and escape bouncing around their head.

“Do you like it?” 

Whumpee whipped their head around to see Whumper standing in the doorway. They shoved the ring back down.

He had pushed his hair back for once, the fluffy black locks smothered under a layer of gel. His suit was black, as was his tie, which were accompanied by a red vest and button up, matching their dress perfectly. He still wore the same three earrings, now pairing with their own red drops. Whumper had taken off his glasses, presumably switching them for contacts, emphasizing his dark lashes and ruby eyes.

He looked them up and down, unabashedly ogling, before finally settling on their face. “You look absolutely gorgeous, dear. Red looks nice on you.” 

“I prefer blue.”

Whumper’s lips twitched. “Are you ready? Best not to be late.” He swiftly turned around, ignoring the obvious last ditch attempt to rile him up, grabbing his keys and heading to the door. Whumpee trailed behind, already dreading the party.

————

The bright lights of the venue were the first thing to assault Whumpee’s eyes. They stepped out of the vehicle, admiring the show of excessive wealth, jumping at the slam behind them. Whumper tittered at their reaction; he had closed the car door behind them, chivalrous, as always.

Whumpee turned to glare at him, unamused. He initially looked surprised at their outward frustration toward him, before smiling once again.

Whumper offered them his elbow, red eyes boring into them, and Whumpee was quick to accept the proposal. “Off we go, my love.” Handing the keys off to the valet, he walked into the large building, practically dragging Whumpee with him.

It was an open ballroom, filled with people mingling, the low hum of talking almost overpowering the small orchestra playing music in the corner. It was decorated with an abundance of gold and white, adding to the affluent and lavish vibe. The middle of the room was open for couples who wanted to dance, the sides filled with tables holding various hors d'oeuvres and desserts. At the very end was a stage covered in balloons and banners, where the host would most likely give their toast.

Whumpee cringed at the overwhelming amount of people in the room. They had never been that much of a fan of parties, but now, their usual anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold. Their skin itched as if everyone was staring at them, checking them out, assessing their worth, finding their weaknesses. It reminded them of the tense stillness before a fight, not a party. The wounds across their back and stomach throbbed, their ever present pain intensifying, and making Whumpee even more self conscious. 

What if they could see them? What would they do then? Would they help them or find it amusing? What would Whumper do? 

This was too much. They couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend everything was fine. They needed to get out of here.

Panic crawled up their spine, and Whumpee slightly pulled away from Whumper, hoping to escape. But his grip was firm, and they were stuck pressed into him. Whumper’s body shook with light laughter at their alarm, peering down at them. Upon seeing their expression, however, he twitched.

Whumper pulled them even closer to him, “want to go back home, darling?” His eyes were softer than usual and his face contorted into a small frown, “do all the people frighten you?”

Whumpee nodded vigorously, pressing themself closer to him, trying to appeal to his affection for them.

Whumper placed his free hand on their cheek, and Whumpee nuzzled further into him. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He seemed to think for a few seconds, watching them carefully, before his lips widened into a sharp smile. “As much as I would love to go back home with you,” he mockingly placed a hand over his chest, “and it truly does make me elated that you consider me your home now,” Whumpee flinched, recognizing their mistake, trying to draw back away from him, “but,” he wouldn’t let them go, “we prettied you for this. We can’t go before you meet everyone and indulge in the festivities. Can’t have it all go to waste, now can we?” He tutted at them.

Whumper continued to stare at them before they realized he wanted an answer. Whumpee slowly shook their head, accepting defeat, slumping down into themself.

Whumper patted their cheek before pulling back. “Kaip geras. Now let’s go, I already see someone I want to introduce you to.”

He pulled them along further into the room, and Whumpee took a deep breath, hoping, but failing, to prepare themself for the night to come.

————

The next hour or so was filled with Whumpee standing docilely next to Whumper, a smile plastered on their face while he spoke to everyone who came to greet him. 

It was the same thing over and over again. A name they wouldn’t remember, faces that blurred together, shallow compliments about their outfit, and, the worst of all, congratulations to the happy couple. 

Whumper keened at all the flattery, especially those of their dress and jewelry, making sure to pipe in that he was the one that purchased them for them, and, as they were expected to follow along, Whumpee thanked him for the “generous” gift from a loving fiancé. He always managed to squeeze in a kiss for the presents, tilting their head up and drawing Whumpee in whenever they expressed their gratitude. This only delighted the other guests, amused at the young couple’s public show of affection.

It was torture. 

Now Whumpee, thankfully, had finally gotten a small break from Whumper flaunting them off, standing on the sidelines and trying to drown their worries into a small flute of champagne. 

Never too far, Whumper was in the corner conversing with what they could only assume to be potential buyers, and, though he wasn’t facing them, Whumpee could still feel the ever present weight of his eyes watching them, making sure they didn’t run. As unnerving as it was, Whumpee preferred it over his stifling presence bearing down next to them. 

The hero scanned the room as their mind drifted. They could try to get help from the other people here, but Whumpee didn’t foresee much success through those routes. They recognized half the guests from files back in their old office, and those who weren’t publicly villains were most likely not much better either. 

However, even if they weren’t in the same circles as Whumper, what could Whumpee say that would convince them of their situation. Their last stunt as a hero left them humiliated and discredited; they looked crazy to the public eye. Someone who had lost their way and needed the guidance of some pristine charitable schmuck who graciously sacrificed themselves to help them. In the end, it would be their words against his, and no one would believe them. 

And on the small, small chance they did… Whumpee shivered at what Whumper would do to keep them with him, how he would take revenge for their defiance. They knew it wouldn’t just stop at them, and, as much as they despised it, the hero in them couldn’t let that happen.

As always, he had the upper hand. 

They were taken out of their musings by a gloved hand appearing in their line of sight, too deep in thought to notice Whumper had finished his conversation.

“Join me for a dance, mylimasis?” An award winning smile was plastered on his face, amusement obvious as he played the part of a perfect gentleman. Whumpee grimaced at the irony. 

Seeing no way out of it, Whumpee cautiously placed their hand in his, their trepidation bringing a small chuckle out of the man. Whumper gently brought them to the dance floor, joined by other couples who wished to sway with their partners. Whumpee brought their arms around his neck as he encircled their waist, skin crawling where he touched them. 

Whumper rocked them side to side at a slow pace, calming just by watching them. Whumpee scrutinized him, trying to understand his game; it wasn’t like him to do something so simple without an ulterior motive. 

His fingers started to tap along their waist, following the beat of the music in the background, while he continued to watch them. Whumpee stared back with the same intensity, struggling to smooth their face so they weren’t outright glaring at him. He seemed rather startled at their ‘sudden’ annoyance, eyes widening, before he sheepishly smiled at them. Their face must have slackened in confusion as he relaxed as well, returning to watching them. They continued like that, swaying in the crowd and looking at each other, for a small while. 

Finally, a blush spread across his cheeks, and Whumper quickly turned away. 

He’s like an embarrassed teen. 

They huffed slightly in disbelief, causing Whumper to turn back around at the sound. Realizing the awkwardness, he cleared his throat before asking. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Yes.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Whumpee sent him a dry look. Whumper visibly wilted and they scoffed, looking away. Seriously, again?

Letting their anger and frustration get the best of them wasn’t the smartest move, they knew that, but their proximity was putting Whumpee on edge, making them more irritable than usual. 

“You are going to have to get used to this,” Whumper said, breaking the silence. Whumpee turned back, shocked by his now blank face. “I’m tolerating your disrespect because we’re in public, and I recognize this is your first time being away from home in a long time. It makes you nervous, I understand that. But,” his fingers dug into their waist and Whumpee had to suppress a gasp, “when we’re officially wed, you’ll have to join me to these outings frequently as my wife.” He leaned down so their eyes were level, “I will not indulge this pitiful defiance of yours, then.” Whumper straightened back out, looking down at them, always able to make them feel small with just a glance. “So, I recommend you start familiarizing yourself with the appropriate behavior now.”

Fuck.

Whumpee gulped. They had screwed themself over.

Head bowed, Whumpee accepted defeat. It always ended like this, with Whumpee on their knees before Whumper, metaphorically or literally. They had no response other than to let themself be pulled every which way by Whumper.

Now pressed up against his chest, Whumper and Whumpee swayed as more and more partners made their way to the dance floor.

Leaning down once more, Whumper supplied their companion with more information. “Get ready, brangusis, it’s about to get fun.”

Noticing the crowd of couples, the small orchestra shifted into waltz, and everyone moved in sync. 

Whumper brought their clasped hands up and moved his other to their hip, brushing over an old wound. Whumpee harshly sucked in a breath before placing their hand on his shoulder. He commenced the dance, and Whumpee tried their best to keep up.

Step, slide, step, turn. 

Whumpee hyper focussed on their feet, trying to match his movements. They didn’t have much experience with ballroom dancing, having only taken a few classes as a joke with Bestie, and the one time Caretaker tried to teach them, though it hadn’t ended very well. Whumpee smiled at the memory: them and Caretaker a mess of limbs on the floor as Whumpee had slipped and doomed them both to a few more bruises across their body. They had been so out of breath from laughing when they couldn’t untangle themselves from each other. It had been a spur of the moment idea, some stupid thing meant to bring them closer together. It worked.

“Something funny?” 

Whumpee broke out of their reverie, not even realizing they had zoned out. Whumper’s mouth was a hard line, displeasure at not being the center of their attention apparent. 

It irked them how needy he always was. Kidnapping, experimenting, torturing, and assaulting them wasn’t enough?

They mumbled a quiet apology, peeking up at him through their lashes. It worked and Whumper eased with a blush. 

The musicians kept a steady adagio tempo, giving any more couples who wanted to join an extra moment. Whumpee slowly acclimated to the rhythm, matching Whumper’s moments not long after. 

“You were always a quick learner,” he laughed. Whumpee grimaced. 

As they danced, he squeezed and kneaded along their side, curious of their reactions. His fingers pressed into an old bruise and Whumpee staggered. He kept them balanced, yet began a game of finding where else he could push to get a pained response.

They tried to pull away from the pokes and prods, tottering with each failed attempt. They whined when he reached a fresh stitched gash. Whumpee could feel the meager string split under his pressure, spilling blood that wouldn’t be noticed under the crimson of their dress. 

Whumpee startled when their dance faltered for a moment, for once not because of them. They peered up at Whumper, surprised to find dilated eyes trained on their throat. 

“Don’t do that.” He ground out. 

Ah.

Whumpee was more than happy to obey. That train of thought would lead nowhere good for them. 

Screaming in pain would also most likely not bode well with the other guests. Whumpee sighed, nodding and gritting their teeth through his subtle exploration. Their head throbbed. 

The music picked up, pushing them to move even faster. Whumpee already felt dizzy from the quick paced movement, and Whumper’s tight hold over their still healing cuts was not helping. “Smile, love. People are watching.” He purred.

Heeding his warning, Whumpee stretched their mouth into some semblance of a smile, lips twitching from the strain, and kept dancing. Whumper relaxed his grip slightly, pleased with their obedience. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

Just as they were getting used to pushing the pain down to the rhythm, Whumper let go of their waist, spinning them. Whumpee stumbled, but he kept them moving, pulling them back in after they completed a turn. He seamlessly continued their dance, not giving Whumpee a break to get their bearings, delighting in their increasing disorientation. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

He continued to spin Whumpee every few steps, quietly laughing at their mounting nausea. However, each time their expression began to display their discomfort, Whumper would lean down to mutter a reminder of what would happen if they didn’t keep up the facade. His own twisted form of encouragement. 

“I don’t like to share, sweetheart. Those expressions are only for me.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Many guests are watching us love, don’t disappoint them with your sour countenance. I don’t want them gossiping about how I have an unruly wife.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“You look marvellous when you spin. My pretty little thing. Keep going.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Your dress makes me want to add more red. How about the blood of everyone here, ęh? Do we want to see?”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Don’t fall. I’ll get jealous. And we will have to fix that by adding bruises of my own.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

Vomit slithered up their throat. Their eyes burned with the effort to keep it down, despite the writhing of their stomach and the taste of maggots in their mouth.

A particularly fast whirl caused Whumpee to lose their footing, almost bringing them both to the floor. Whumper was quick enough to avoid disaster, but it put them out of sync with the music for several beats. 

“Watch it, Whumpee. You will not ruin this for me.” He said harshly. “Keep slipping and I’ll snip your legs.”

The again didn’t need to be said. 

But, Whumpee was trying their best, except every movement only exacerbated their aches and exhaustion. Their breathing became laboured and their limbs felt heavy, their beaten body unable to keep up with the overexertion. 

They wanted to tap out now. 

Whumpee tried to pull away, releasing his shoulder and stepping out of his grasp, only for his grip on their other hand to constrict. Whumper drew them back in, gracefully spinning them as he did so, and pulling them up against his chest in a flourish. They gasped as he once again agitated their wounds.

“Where are you going zuikutis? We’re not done yet.” He pinned them even closer to him, leaning down to whisper in their ear. “I can hear your heart hammering. Does our dancing make you that excited?” Whumpee tried to pull away, but their efforts were fruitless. Their body was drained and Whumper was holding them too tight. 

They were about to slump against him, give in and let Whumper sway them on the floor, accept whatever punishment he saw fit, but before they could fully relax, he pulled back, placing their arms once again in the position for a waltz. His expression was harsh, “I said we weren’t done yet, mielasis.” Whumpee flinched, eyes shifting to the people outside the dance floor, but he started to move them once more.

Whirling and pulling. Twisting and pulling. Spinning and pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling.

They can’t keep up.

The music seemed to intensify with their panic. Whumpee could hear their pulse pounding in their ears. The sound of their harsh breathing contrasted with Whumper’s controlled ones. The voices at the edge of the room grew. Tapping of shoes on the pristine floor echoed in their head.

Each sound pushed against their skull, battling one another for space in their mind. Whumpee began to wobble more, unsteady feet tripping their partner. Hands clawing at whatever they held. Chest tightening. Vision blurring. Throat closing. Tired. Hot. Dizzy. 

Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. LET GO-

“Breathe, it’s over.”

A hand rubbed soothing circles along their back. Whumpee blinked rapidly, vision and mind slightly clearing. They found themself leaned down, hovering over the floor.

The song had finished. Whumper had dipped them. 

The crowd around them released small whoops and cheers for all the dancers, surrounding the couple with the sharp clap of applause. Whumpee tensed. Whumper hurried to calm them.

“Ramiai, ramiai vargšas.” He slowly pulled them back to their feet. “I see I got carried away. This was too much for you.” Whumper told them softly. “We’ll work on it.”

Whumpee couldn’t process what he was saying, too busy trying to return to the world around them. They were pliant as he led them off the dance floor.

They spent the next few minutes leaning into Whumper as they calmed themself down. If they could think clearly, Whumpee would have pulled away from him long ago, but they simply did not have the mental capacity for hatred or fear right now.

After they reached a more coherent state, he spoke. “I’m going out for a smoke.” Whumpee was still breathless from their dancing, barely able to catch up to what he was telling them. “You don’t have to join me, I know how much you hate it. But,” Whumpee suddenly grabbed their arm, throwing them off balance once more.

“Stay here.” They didn’t think they could anywhere if they wanted to, they were too light headed from dancing. That was probably the point. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” 

Whumper examined them a final time, before nodding to himself. He steered Whumpee to a corner, despite their, almost drunken, stumbling. Then, they were on their own. 

They felt the need to cry, the tears pressing against the back of their eyes, but they- they just- it wasn’t working. They couldn’t. Not here. They just needed to focus on their breathing. 

They leaned against the wall, thankful for its cool surface, hoping to steady themself. 

In… Out… 

In… Out…

In… Out… 

Rhythmic breathing slowed their racing heart. Air stopping its fight in their lungs. Muscles no longer protesting as loudly. Whumpee’s body finally calmed from the stress of his waltz. 

They took a few more moments to themself, forehead pressed firmly against the plaster. Just breathing. Mind emptying. Preparing for a few more hours of struggle.

They could do this. 

“Whumpee.” A hand landed on their shoulder, warm and familiar. They jolted, spinning around. They froze once their gaze landed on Caretaker.

Her dress, a fitted corset around her middle that flowed out into a long skirt, was a striking cerulean color that complimented her eyes. There was a large collar that covered from her neck to her shoulder, decorated with sapphires, holding a sheer cape that flowed down to trail behind her. Her makeup used only various shades of blue, highlighting her dark skin. 

They felt their eyes water faintly at the sight of such a familiar face. It had been too long.

“C-Caretaker!” Whumpee cringed at their own voice, simultaneously too rough and too bright. “Wh-what a surprise. It’s been a while.” Whumpee tried to keep their cool. They couldn’t drag her into this, they wouldn’t, no matter how much they might want to.

A whirlwind of emotions flashed through Caretaker’s eyes, too quick for Whumpee to tell what she was feeling, before hardening, anger and determination shining through. “Where were you! I- We kept looking for weeks.” Her gaze saddened slightly, “I- I thought something had happened to you. When you didn’t answer after you went in… I was worried, and then the incident-”

“Well!” Whumpee clapped their hands together, effectively cutting off the woman. “As you can see I’m fine. Didn’t they tell you where I was? My comm broke, nothin’ serious.” They told her carefully. “And, you know I had that vacation lined up,” their lips stretched into a shaky smile. “That’s all. Nothing to get so worked up about!” They laughed. Whumpee hoped their expression was convincing enough.

“But-”

Whumpee sighed. “Look, I know I never reached out-”

“What- Never reached out! I sent you so many messages, you missed all my calls.” That was because Whumper had taken their phone. “You never miss my calls.” Whumpee stiffened. That was very true. They made sure to never miss a call from her again. “Then one day you just told me to stop contacting you completely!” They hadn’t known about that, though Whumpee wasn’t very surprised. 

Caretaker averted her gaze. “D-did I do something wrong? I would’ve left you alone if you had just told me what really happened.” She grabbed Whumpee’s hands. “I just- I-…” The woman paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re someone I care deeply about, I thought we were close. I-I needed to make sure you were okay… I’m sorry.” Her body slumped, the rage and conviction seeping out, dropping Whumpee’s hands. All that was left was a tired, worried friend.

As they watched their partner deflate, Whumpee realized something. Here she was, one of the few people willing to look for them, and all Whumpee could do was brush them off. As much as they hated it, however, they were firm in their belief; they would not rope Caretaker into this. It was not safe. They had faith in her ability as a hero, but Whumpee had seen, had experienced, what Whumper could do first hand, and they would not take the risk. They would never forgive themself if something happened to her.

But they would not leave Caretaker with nothing either. 

Whumpee bent down, hoping to console their companion. “No, Caretaker, I-”

“You never introduced me to your lovely acquaintance here, dear.” Whumpee bolted back up, putting as much distance between the two of them as they could. The man now next to them, leaned down, extending a hand to Caretaker while the other wrapped around their waist. “Whumper. Whumpee’s fiance .”

Caretaker’s eyes widened in shock, recognition flashing, before she smoothed her expression out into a smile. “I see! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Caretaker, Whumpee’s friend, their partner.” She took his hand, squeezing tightly. They silently stared off at each other, before Whumper drew his hand back and straightened. “Y’know, Whumpee never mentioned they were dating anyone.” The accusation was clear in her tone.

Whumper’s fingers twitched. “Well, we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Taking the time to tell everyone would be a hassle if we weren’t sure. And you know how annoying those pesky reporters can be.” The arm around their hips tightened slightly, a warning. “Right, Whumpee?”

Whumpee straightened, trying to school their face into that of a happily engaged person. “Y-Yes- yes, of course. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. A-as you can see,” they waved in his direction, “this was also part of why I took that time off.”

Don’t ask more. Do not ask more. Please.

“Huh… Then, when you set the wedding date do tell me Whumpee. I would love to come.” 

Whumper twitched again, his eyes darkening. “When we do, I’ll be sure you are the first one to know.” He shifted, turning slightly, planning to drag Whumpee off with him. “Now, there are-”

“Oh!” She grabbed Whumpee’s arm to stop them. Whumper glared at the offending limb, and Whumpee could practically see the violence run through his brain. “One more thing,” Caretaker’s smile became strained and her eyes narrowed. “Whumpee, when do you plan on getting back to work? I know you said you were taking a vacation, a very important one at that, but all vacations end, right? You’re very important to the agency, and the boss is starting to get worried. You’ll have to come back soon, you know how they get-” 

Whumper cut in, pulling them out of her grasp, not giving Whumpee a chance to speak, composure slipping. “No.” He glared down at Caretaker, who stiffened and glared back in response, fists at her sides. Whumper cleared his throat. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there are more introductions Whumpee and I must make. Come along, darling.” 

Whumper bent down, cupping Whumpee’s face and smashing their lips together. Instinctively, their hands went up to rest on his chest, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. The acrid tang of smoke invaded their nostrils and the sour taste of tobacco stuck to their tongue. Their eyes scrunched close, they didn’t want to do this in front of Caretaker. Whumper felt their resistance, tightening his arm painfully until they finally kissed back, instead wrapping their arms around his neck. 

Just sell it.

Whumpee felt Whumper instantly soften at their touch, as always, relaxing into the kiss. He kept them there together for another few seconds before they broke for air. 

When they turned to look at Caretaker, her face was filled with horror. Her arms were limp at her sides and she gawked at them with dread. Whumper smirked, a cat who got his cream, before turning and taking Whumpee along with him, the arm around their middle again a vice. 

While they walked away, Whumpee turned their head one last time to look at Caretaker, silently pleading that she didn’t pry even further. Caretaker nodded, hands once again fists, with determination in her eyes. 

Whumpee didn’t think that Caretaker understood what they were asking her to do. 

This wouldn’t end well.

[byrdstrolls]

Record Skip

Your name is Raerae Daling, and sometimes a thought gets stuck in your head like a skip on a record, like accidentally clicking speed backward on a grubtube video, like losing your spot in a paragraph and reading the first sentence over, always in threes. Today's thought is thus-

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

-That was what you would say to the bouncer. It had to be playful enough for intrigue. The bouncer would probably be Nafisa. You know most of the bouncers in the entire west side, and the comfort of firm arms shoving you out into the gutter. But Nafisa was his go-to for these kinds of parties. She’s got a sense of humor, she’s got a want for chaos- You had to play their game for a moment. I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-grlfriend, you would say. 

No shit, she would answer. Give me one good reason to let you in.

I brought booze, you would say, holding up your shopping bags- your six packs are across the bathroom, you had put them down after purchasing this morning like they burned your hand. But you’d say-

I brought booze, 

-And Nafisa, or whatever bouncer, whoever was guarding the party would say

Shittt, can’t argue with that.

And let you in. Deep down, they all wanted to see you kick that bastard in the nose. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, but you’d prey on their thirst, their desperation for your comment, your reaction, the showdown that was always meant to be. I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend. 

You didn’t plan on talking to your ex. There wasn’t a thing to say. You finish the slow circle of eyeliner around your eyes. You’ve never had a steady hand, but it's supposed to be messy, and you take a hand and smear it slightly across your knuckles. You stare into the bathroom mirror, your slit pupil eyes wide. Feeling like one of those dogs freezing at the sight of its reflection. You look so much like drunk Raerae your fight or flight kicks in, but it's just a costume, it's just a costume, she's just a costume. 

Don’t go to your ex’s party, your sponsor had told you, Quincy had looked tired, but he always looked tired, so it wasn’t your fault, and you couldn’t be held accountable for how you answered. Your sponsor said don’t go to that party, and then your client had said 100$ an hour, 500$ bonus if you catch him in the act. And you told them both I’m not drinking and you meant it with your whole heart, and mind, and empty bank account. 

When you make it to the outside of the mansion, the highblood estate where hive music blasts into the unforgiving darkness, the night is young. The bouncer is Nafisa, like you knew she would be. 

“Excuse me Miss” She huffs. “You got an invite?”

“You know me” You accuse. “You know me, Nafisa, I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend”

“Uh-huh. And why would I let you in?” She says, crossing her arms. 

“I brought boozeee” You grin, flashing your bags, she’s so on script you feel like kissing her, but then she ruins it. She squints at you, your running makeup, your permanently offset dress. 

“Girl, did you pregame?” She asks. 

You frown your way into a lopsided smirk, hoping she doesn’t notice your momentary disgust and confusion. 

“You know me,” You joke. You lie. “I started pregaming two nights ago.” 

“You know I’m like security, right?” 

“You know I like, brought booze? Out of the goodness of my heart? Out of the bottom of my wallet?” 

“If you go in there” She warns. “And do some stupid, insane shit like you pulled at the new sweeps party or fright night, everybodies gonna be like, who let Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend in here?” She huffs, adjusting her hijab. 

“And then Nafisa, darling Nafisa, you say, not me! You say, I’ve never seen that bitch in my life! And your lips stay shut, and my lips stay shut, and everyone wins and everyone lives a little.” You plead. 

She stares at you, but then, with a patient glance around as if to check if anyones watching, she opens the door for you, and you walk into the party. 

The place is a minefield. But that’s why you came in with two plastic bags of seltzers in your hands, with two grenades pressed into your palm pin-first so you can keep the pin tight and close and hear its heartbeat against your skin. You’ve gotta make it to the upper floors- there's got to be an elevator. The alcohol is heavy, and no way in hell you’re going up the stairs in these heels. You wander from hall to hall, from pockets of giggling drunk girls, past trolls lounging on chairs and beanbags passing back and forth pipes, the inescapable smell. You press the elevator button once, twice, three times. 

The top floor, the penthive, that’s gotta be where the seadwellers room was, it was Hesdie’s party, but it’s not his bedroom you’re breaking into. The elevator door opens to a crowded living room, but you don’t skip a beat. 

“Booze runnnn!” You slur, dumping the two bags onto the floor, to which they perk up like vultures. 

“Yoooo!” One says, a cerulean you don’t recognize. He squints at you. 

“Aren’t you that girl who jumped off the building into that hot tub once??? DUDE I remember you” 

“That’s me” You grin. “I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend.” 

“Come sit with us,” He says. 

“I gotta pee” You say, walking past him further into the hive.

“Where have you been?” He says. Like you would tell him. “Nobodies seen you for months.” 

“Living it up in some rich girls apartment down east.” You lie. 

“My man,” He says. 

“I really gotta pee” You repeat, and keep walking down the hall, till you run into a long row of bedroom doors. The first bedroom you check is empty. The second has a couple in it, but they're so trashed they’re not even speaking. The third has a pair of jade’s playing cards. 

“Girl” One says, “Wtf the fuck is up with your eyes?”

You roll them, your sideways goat pupils going to the ceiling. 

“They’re contacts, ofc. Literally grey. I’m anon” You say. 

“Why not get normal ones?” 

“I’m quirky that way.” You reply. 

“Those look real dude, they’re fucking freaky.” the other one says, and you realize you’ll have to do your whole little show, one you knew by heart but still right now feels like a waste of time no matter the adrenaline rush it’d give you. 

Your hand goes to your contact case in your pocket, slyly reaching inside. The contact case had rust lenses in it, you never left home without it and you pick one up with your ring finger, balancing it delicately on the tip. 

“Here” you say, “I’ll take one out” You promise, lifting your index, the rust contact still concealed, turning your head upwards such that your fingers are obscured to the two jadebloods. You put the rust contact in your eye in one quick motion, blinking, and lift your index finger, pretending to hold a contact that is simply not there. 

“See” You shrug. “I’m a rustie” You say. Staring at them with one red and one gray eye. And you see their shoulders fall with ease and relief. You would feel more satisfaction with tricking them if you hadn’t done this one billion times, in the backs of bars, in closets and sidewalks and way, way drunker than you are now. 

“Wait, hold on a second.” The first jade says. “Aren’t you Hesdie’s ex-mate? He’s talking mad shit about you dog. Where have you been?” 

“I went on a cruise, actually. R&R for months” You lie. 

“Did you really try to steal his grubtube channel?” he asks. 

“What? No.” You say, so unsettled by the question you shut the door in his face.

Who cares, who cares, who cares what he says about you to his millions of followers, his channel will crash and burn without you. You head back down the hallway, and open the fourth door- but it's just Maindy in there, and talking to Maindy makes you sad, because you really did like him. 

“Raerae,” He says, voice laced with concern. “Is that you?” 

And how dare he be concerned, really- how dare he- whatever Hesdie said on grubtube, he was complicit- he was the editor. Hesdie never had the skill to do it himself. You like to imagine he portrayed you kindly when he could. But you had deleted grubtube off your phone months ago- you didn’t know what they were saying. 

“No.” You answer, slamming the door.

“Rae!” He calls back, shutting his husktop, following you into the hallway. Can you really be mad at him for videos you haven't even seen?

“What are you doing here?” He says, as he stalks you down the hallway to the last bedroom. “Where have you been?” He asks. “Nobodies seen you in months,” He says. 

And it's Maindy, and he's this barkbeast grub of a man, with big wide dark eyes and curls cascading down his back, and he looks at you like a guilty pet, and you can’t lie to him. 

“Rehab.” You say. 

“Oh” he says, stopping, and you try the door of the last bedroom, but it’s locked. 

“Did that… go well?” He says, taking in your state of dress, makeup, and demeanor. 

“Really well” You say, pulling a bobby pin from your hair to pick the lock. 

“I’m sober. I’m sober. I’m sober.” You say, with a different inflection each time. But it’s true. 

“I just wanted to lure everyone into a false sense of security so I could break into this hive.” You say, and the lock clicks open. 

“Oh.” He repeats. It’s so easy for them, it’s so easy for them to believe the worst of you, and why wouldn’t they?

The worst of you has millions of views. However many livestreams on Hesdie’s channel. MINECRAFT DRINKING GAME WITH MY GIRLFRIEND (gone wrong) (gone crazy). 

“Why break in?” Maindy asks. 

“For a client of mine.” You say. “Moirail of the fushia who own’s it’s matesprit.” You say, walking in and rifling through the fushia’s drawers, for a husktop- preferably a husktop. The fushia had a name, but it wasn’t important to you. 

“Oh… I forgot you used to do that Private Investigator thing” He says. 

“I’ve got bills” You answer. “No longer the luxurious grubtuber’s girlfriend.” You find an ipad plugged into the wall- bingo. You start looking through his messages. 

“Hesdie’s um,” Maindy pauses. “Saying a lot of stuff about you.” 

“So I hear” You say, flipping through the text messages, just long enough to confirm this guy is indeed cheating on his matesprit, just as your client suspected. Most PI gigs are cheaters these days. They bored you. It was always too easy. It was always too easy. It was always too easy. 

“He said that um” He stares at you as you work. “That you, um, demanded he give you his whole channel, and accused him of hemophobia when he didn’t. (he made me leave that in)” He says softly, and you can’t even stay mad, because Maindy was paying off student loans, and Hesdie pays him well, because Hesdie knows he’s not actually funny and his channel will crash and burn without Maindy’s editing, just like it will crash and burn without your hilarity. Just give it time.

“I did none of that” You say. 

“Well what happened?” he asks. 

“None of your business” You say, texting screencaps to your client, plugging the ipad back into the wall, you walk past Maindy back into the hall, and shut the door on him. 

“Go fuck yourself” You say, and it doesn't matter to you much whether you or he earned it or not anymore, its a night for slamming doors, and suddenly you have to be out of this party, you want to not be here more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Why didn’t you listen to your sponsor? You begin the long trek back to the elevator, and past the living room, and to the front door, and very few minutes someone stops you and says hey, aren’t you that hemoanon who chugged a bottle of capiers on a dare? Aren’t you that girl who did a line off a pocketknive in a livestream? Aren’t you that troll who set fire to Hesdie’s kitchen last New Sweep party? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

And you don’t run into him the whole night, you just hear his name spoken again and again like it’s your own, but you know that by three am most nights mid-high he likes to mellow out in jacuzzi’s and hot tubs, and the pools are on the third floor, and you know he’d be there, and you avoid it like the plague. Right now, somebody, maybe one of those jades or those guys on the living room floor is walking up to him and they’re probably saying hey, your ex-girlfriend was upstairs with two six packs, she was opening bedroom room doors, 

And he’d lean back, running a hand through his hair and he'll say 

Damn, she really is obsessed with me

Nafisa watches you head out the front door at a brisk pace to where you’ve parked and she tries not to look too disappointed.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So season 3. Let's do this!

This took so so so long and is not quite where/what I wanted it to be soooo... I am so sorry 😅🥲 this will most likely be 2 parts cause... Yeah, just life man.

Actually some dialogue in this one? Sure, a line or two, as a treat.

(Part1) (part2)

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for a few weeks now and he feels like he's built a decent rapport with his coworker Robin. She's witty and snarky and opinionated and when Steve wears a more tinted lipgloss than he intended resulting in a customer clocking it and saying something rude that he can't help but smile his dead-eyed customer service smile at, she clocks out for her lunch early (and takes an extra 15 minutes) and comes back with a full face of makeup and shoos him into the back with the mascara she bought from the shop a couple stores over. They both start coming to work with at least mascara, eyeliner and lipstick and Steve loves it. He compliments the hand-drawn designs on her shoes and she asks where he got his rainbow heart pin. They mostly disagree on music they listen to -she still lets him drag her to a couple live music nights at The Hideout with him and Billy every now and then anyway- but their politics and basic life philosophies line up pretty well.

He could do without the 'You Rule / You Suck' board, especially when Billy gets in on it and adds tallies from a little notebook he starts keeping when he and Steve hang out outside of kids and work. And the jokes about his kids (and occasionally Billy) when they come through for free passage to the movies. And the jabs about his parents' money like he still has access to that or their house.

He doesn't tell her that he was cut off and disowned and kicked out. He doesn't tell her that he had to get a job to help pay for his community college courses because he was a disappointment that couldn't get into a pre-approved 4-year university and that meant no college fund and he was still a few years away from being 21 and having access to the trust fund his grandparents set up for him when he was still just a lump of forming cells. And even then anything in that will probably be blown on buying himself his own permanent place instead of just a hand-me-down trailer in the middle of the woods so he needs to save for things like bills and a mortgage.

He doesn't tell her that the reason he lets the kids get away with so much is because they're *his* and they've already seen more fucked up shit than the cops in this town (save Hop) and he'll be damned if they don't get to just be kids. He'll be damned if they decide he's someone they need to hide from and sneak around like they hide and sneak from Joyce and Hop cause that's how they didn't know about half the shit the kids got up to while the adults were doing their best to take care of things themselves. He doesn't tell her that he's paying "rent" to the chief of police (it's way less than he should be but it's all Hop would take).

He doesn't tell Robin a lot of things.

Then sometime after Robin finally warmed up to him but before Dustin comes back from camp, Eddie Munson walks into Scoops Ahoy, his metalhead nerdy entourage in tow. He orders a plain scoop of vanilla with sprinkles in a cup and one of the others also orders something small and simple (while longingly eyeing their diabetes-inducing, horribly artificial tasting, bubblegum flavor when Munson turns away) before all of them are squeezing into one of the largest booths, emptying out messenger bags and backpacks of overstuffed binders and scuffed up versions of very familiar looking textbooks. It's like looking at an older -slightly grungier- version of his kids.

"Gentlemen, now that 🎶school's out for summer🎶-" There's a musical lilt as he says it that sounds vaguely familiar to Steve, "-and it has been confirmed that I will in fact be held captive for yet another stint in the hell they call Hawkins High School it is time we confer and conspire for the next year of Hellfire and the little sheep that will be joining our flock." He kinda loses track of it after that because then his kids are rushing in demanding tasters of everything and edging towards the lifting part of the counter with a look in their eyes that speaks of mischief. He puts up the initial fuss about them only visiting him for his backrooms access and that they promised to only come over when there were no customers around. He lets them through anyway.

He notices Munson eyeing him as he puts the partition back in place shaking his head and Robin laughing at him as she washed their ice cream scoops. The one that's vaguely more familiar looking than the rest and reminds him of a taller, angrier, Dustin with a better hair regimen isn't quite glaring at him but is definitely paying more attention than the rest of Munson's posse and seems more suspicious than Eddie's curious.

The metalheads are still there when Billy shows up stinking of chlorine in clothes that are damp where they cling to his frame. The group loosens up a little when he shoots Steve his signature smug smirk as he shrugs on his denim jacket that -like Steve's own jacket hanging out of sight in the staffroom- had begun accumulating patches and pins since Neil's incarceration. Unlike Steve's, Billy's has homages to bands like Mötley Crue, Deff Leppard, Twisted Sister and Guns N' Roses with little trails of shakily embroidered flowers and constellations on the collar and hems and filling the spaces between the patches and pins. Billy also has a small pink triangle on the lapel where Steve has a rainbow. Steve pretends not to notice the way the group goes a little quiet as Billy starts his usual routine of sunnily demanding tasters of all the available flavors and then again with sprinkles to "-really get an idea of their ✨nuance✨, prettyboy" before deciding on a scoop of double chocolate with a scoop of raspberry vanilla in a cup with sprinkles and one of their fresh waffle cones on top. Like always.

"Really branching out there aren't ya, tough guy?" Steve keeps his face as stoney as possible but he can't help the humored edge to his voice.

Billy just winks at him running his tongue over his teeth as he gives Steve an exaggerated leer, "Gotta keep you on your toes, handsome." Robin fake gags and Steve laughs and Eddie Munson turns red as he stares at the two joking jocks. Billy goes quiet as he stares at his ice cream and Steve recognizes the look on his face, tells the blonde to go sit down in their usual booth and he'd be taking his break soon and they can talk about whatever's bothering him.

What's bothering him is Neill getting parole for 'good behavior', Jim only telling the Mayfield-Hargroves almost a week after he was let out because that was actually the same day he himself found out. Billy found out just before a summer basketball practice session and thinks he snapped at an underclassmen he's been trying to get to open up about what Billy is 90% certain is going on in the kid's home, but he knows that cops can't do much if the victim(s) refuse to trust in those trying to help them. He's worried about the kid he snapped at. Worried about Susan and Max. Worried that even with the restraining order Neill will try something. Billy tells Steve he had thought he saw Neill around the outskirts of town during errands or during his turn to haul the kids around a couple of times before Hop told them and now he's sure it wasn't just paranoia. Steve tells him they'll figure it out, reminds him he's not alone in this

That makes Billy smile, small and tired but real and grateful. His shoulders are still tense and there's still a wariness in the smallest crease between his eyebrows that makes Steve ask if there's anything else. They talk about some of the weird dreams Billy's been having that makes Steve encourage him to talk to El. Just to make sure Billy isn't going through what happened to Will the last alternate-dimension-go-around.

They make plans to head out to see the two Hoppers after Steve's shift. Come up with a basic timeline of when and where Billy thinks he saw Neil so they have something to start with for Hop. Put together an idea of how involved Billy wants to be in whatever plan Hop comes up with. They're interrupted by a group of girls swanning into the shop and Steve being yelled at by Robin to get himself back to work. As he gets up from the table Steve levels Billy with a look that makes the blond think about the way Max and the kids described Steve when they talked about how he fought off the pack of demodogs in the junkyard, planting himself between them and snarling snapping danger like Galahad himself.

Steve looks him in the eyes and says "I swear Billy, we're going to get through this, we'll take care of it and keep you and the girls safe. Hop knows what's going on and even Callahan can't get away with letting that piece of shit fall through the cracks after what he pulled." He leans in close and bites out probably louder than he should for the amount of people in the shop, "And if that fucker gets near any of you I've got Darling in Baby's trunk and I am not afraid to use her on a human shaped monster instead."

Author's (rambler's) Notes:

So, that's all I have for season 3 rn I am so sorry. 😭 I'm working on the next bit but I am so burnt out recently and now I'm unemployed cause of the ceiling at my job caving in which does not help the stress. So I unfortunately do not have a timeframe for you. 🥲 A couple of folks asked to be tagged so... Here you are? To be fair I'm not making any promises in regards to the taglist in the future, I will do my damnedest and y'all will have to bear with me.

I'm glad people are liking this and tbh this has gotten more attention than I expected so thanks? I appreciate the appreciation of my ramblings. Feel free to scream at/with me about this au in my asks box and I'll respond when/as I can. I'm just glad people are enjoying this. 🙃

@heartsong18

@knightofthieves

[gust-jar-simulator]

Seriously considering writing more about my blorbos being goth. I know way too much about the vampire subculture and also I love the idea of applying gothic lit tropes to LOZ. Hells. Twilight Princess exists. Is there anything more goth than a cowboy with eyeliner who turns into a nightmarish beast under cover of darkness?

I feel like Twilight would have no frame of reference for goth anything, and yet just naturally be extremely goth.

Fanon Legend definitely has enough reason to swing towards the mourning/explicitly death related side of things, and technically Wind does too.

Fanon Vio has INFINITE reasons to be goth, including but not limited to a desire to practice necromancy to see his dead boyfriend again (who also happens to be a demon). Depending on whether or not they're all on the same wavelength, this could include all of Four.

This is going to sound unhinged, but hear me out. Some sort of ouji style for Wars. While he does have an image to maintain, lolita style was in part created as a reaction to the idea of attractiveness- women dressing like little girls as a statement that not all fashion is meant to be sexy, it's just supposed to be fun. It's not really gendered, but there is a more masculine version, and I feel like Wars would just melt into the goddamn floor from the relief of being pretty but not a Sex Symbol for a bit. Once he got used to the idea. Maybe in pastels, the darker gothic colors might remind him too much of Cia.

My only statement regarding Time is that he deserves to wear a dress. That man's gender is tree and we all know it, I bet gendered clothes confused him for the longest time and it only got weirder once he permanently passed puberty and people started caring. I'm not sure he'd be outright goth, but he'd have his own death-related Kokiri traditions and he'd probably observe them in relation to the fuckery of Termina. It's just really hard to notice because Kokiri death traditions involve Not Talking about the dead, generally. Could have some implications for why he doesn't talk about himself in depth much.

Sky has never been goth in his life but it would be funny to give him a Demise-related midlife crisis. Something something scaly black pants.

Hyrule's life is CONSUMED by thoughts of blood and death and proper disposal of his corpse, barren fields and dying villagers, haunted woods and rampaging demons. Most of that is just business as usual though. I'd say he might not dress very gothic but he still has a very gothic approach to things like the beauty of the ominous red sunset and flourishing thorn bushes or the safety inherent in a well-kept graveyard. He's definitely slept on or even inside of a grave before. Very cozy.

Wild has tried every aesthetic at least once and will continue to add more to his collection. Also he deserves to get as much mileage as possible out of undead jokes. Maybe he'd even outright identify as undead as a coping mechanism. His version of being extremely morbid includes dressing in the ancient guardian set, looking like the very machines that killed and resurrected him.

[laszlo-cravensworth-enjoyer]

Okay, crazy what we do in the shadows season 5 theory time

Based upon s5 leaks!!!

(Long post, spoiler warning)

Well, I do think Guillermo is gonna turn into a vampire. Probably not in a permanent way, because we really need to see Nandor turning him properly!!!

Okay, last season everybody lost something important to them, and everything got back to the status quo. Laszlo lost his father-son relationship with Colin, Colin lost his "childhood" memories, Nadja lost the nightclub, Nandor lost his 37 wives, and Guillermo lost Freddie.... I guess? I do think it fits the whole theme of nothing ever changing in the vampire lifes, but what if he lost his humanity?

Soooo...

It may be a strecht but look at this picture!!!!!

Tell me this is not vampire!guillermo shinanigans!!! Or maybe some weird in between creature because of his Van Helsing blood?

It is stated by The Guide that his blood had to be drained for the vampires to suffer any damages while managing his body (s03e02), so Guillermo might not be entirely "poisonous" to vampires, but just enough to mess things up.

Also... look whos is credited for the first episode on imdb...

Guillermo's grandma! Maybe, he seeks advice from her, as she knows about vampires and stuff, maybe she could help in this unusual situation!

I also wanna talk about the optometrist, i know that Guillermo is wearing his glasses on the leaked picture, but somehow his powers are growing and now he has 20/20 vision? Would make sense for him to look for a professional in this case, because he, besides Colin, is the only one who really wears glasses.

Oh my God this is so long and its 3am but I am an Anxiety Machine and won't stop thinking about this for the next couple of months BUT i also think Sean is going to have a bigger role this season...

Its just a video of him hhmm... in a pride parade? Vampiric pride parade maybe? Who knows but it seams like a little event...

And I may be going crazy, but this could tie up with this pic that leaked too

Colin! I don't know what he is campaigning for, but I think Sean could also be running for... something and going for the gay votes? Or he is just coming out I don't know.

Either way Colin could gather lots of energy from an election, this should be so much fun!

Last but not least, the reason it can't be a permanent change to Guillermo's character (besides being the end of his character arch, literally in the first episode, 2 seasons before the end) is that we have this BTS pic from Harvey... okay he couldve just take off the fangs, but he is not even wearing the vampire makeup! (Pale skin and subtle red eyeliner)

If anyone reads this... im being delusional and really needed to take this off my system, can't wait to see this being completely useless in july! Thanks for bearing with me this long haha

[willowwhisps11]

Cursed Creature: Minotaurs Obsession; Chapter 1

"Willow! Wake up! Your going to be late!" My best friend pounds on my door, my alarm ringing loudly but I still slept through it. I huff and climb out of bed, opening my closet to grab my uniform. A black thigh length skirt, and a white baggy button up top. Completed by the black uniform jacket, with the school's logo on the left side.

As I change into my uniform, I noticed the black scuff marks on the floor, leading from the window, to my bed, then back to the window. I choose to ignore them for when i get home. I brush my white hair and put it in a ponytail.

I spend the first 10 minutes of my morning putting on my makeup, a simple look. Lipgloss and some concealer, hiding the bags under my eyes and the scar on my cheek. I walk downstairs into the living room, the tall building wasn't my permanent home, but it was at my best friends house, or the streets. I couldn't go back home, not by force, but by choice.

My mother was a crazy drunk and my father slept all day, occasionally waking up to get food, then, he'll go back to sleep. My sister left as soon as she turned 18 and left me behind when I was 8.

I yawn and walk into the kitchen. "Louise" I say, opening the cupboard. "Where's the cereal again?" I ask, checking the other cabinets, and on top of the fridge. "We ate it all!" Louise calls from the living room. I sigh and walk over to her, she was brushing her long black hair into a bun. Her face caked with makeup and a pair of long lashes she could practically fly away with.

"Mom's going to the store today to get more." She says, grabbing her eyeliner. "Lucas is picking me up again, so you'll have to walk to school" she adds, before standing up and smiling at me. When she opens the door, it was rainy out.

I roll my eyes and grab my bag, stepping outside. I unlock my phone and text my boyfriend, hoping he could pick me up, but he told me no, that he was at school already.

I shove my phone in my pocket and start walking, feeling the rain hit my clothes. I knew I would be soaked by the time I got to school, just another reason to be picked on.

The sounds of car's passing and people talking was drowned out by the hard rain. I didn't even hear the bushes moving as someone followed me. It wasn't until I stopped to cross the road I hear the sounds of hoofs on the cement.

I turn around, startled by the sound, but there was nothing there. The pavement had slight scuff marks, like the ones in my room."What the fuck?" I mutter, but I hear a horn honk and I jump and run across the road, forgetting about the marks.

I quickly run to school, stopping under the covered area, I catch my breath while standing there. Cold from the rain, i head inside, hearing the shouting and laughing of the people as they all walk to class. The first bell rings and I start walking to class, ignoring the people around me. The collage campus was always crowded.

[sam-glade]

Top 10 Character Essence

Tagged by the wonderful @writernopal here. Thank you💜

I'm leaving it as an open tag, because damn, this is a tough one. But if you choose to be tagged, please mention me - I want to see!

A challenge to give your Top 10 favourite characters, based on their ESSENCE. They have to be favourite characters that also have a deeper literary value, where you enjoy their specific role in the story, and this means that the list also should exclude characters that would normally count as favourites if for purely nostalgic reasons. They can be from film, tv, or written media, anything.

I feel like in each character I'm addressing only a small aspect of them that spoke to me, while they deserve their whole breadth to be appreciated.

I'm also doing my best not to fill this list with characters from Deep Space 9.

10. John Gaius (The Locked Tomb)

Back at home I told them, they want to call us a cult, let’s be a cult. It only takes a little bit of eyeliner and a couple capes.

He's god. He's a middle-aged man from New Zealand. He wants to be your friend. He'll let you call him 'teacher' until you're ready to call him 'lord'. He thinks he'd like to be your dad. Oh, and he spent the last ten thousand years building an empire that worships him because he's still messed up from how he became god in the first place.

(thank you @tisiphonewolfe for translating me flailing my arms in his direction into words)

9. Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

"Maybe life has no equal trade, maybe you can give up all you got, and get nothing back."

A child who's committed the ultimate taboo in a desperate attempt to bring his mother back to life, and almost lost his little brother in the process. His story is that of doing his best to right the wrongs, and learning that not everything can be undone.

8. Frodo (The Lord of the Rings)

‘But this one is taller than some and fairer than most, and he has a cleft in his chin: perky chap with a bright eye.'

Beyond the fact that he is a simple person that the reader can see themselves in throughout the story, not a typical hero bound by destiny, the one aspect of him that resonated with me in particular is that he's described as different from other hobbits - both in terms of appearance and personality. Members of other races of Middle Earth look at him and see just another hobbit, but he doesn't quite belong among his neighbours.

7. Dr Julian Bashir (Deep Space 9)

"Causing people to suffer because you hate them is terrible... but causing people to suffer because you've forgotten how to care, that's really hard to understand."

Julian is the voice of kindness on the space station, even when faced with horrors of war and other atrocities. At the same time he's a prodigy who's outgrowing his prodigy phase.

6. Ash Lynx (Banana Fish)

"Stay with me... I won’t ask "forever." Just for now, Eiji."

Where do I even start with this one... Ash is a very hurt, very damaged teenager who's grown a shell to protect the last shred of himself from the world. Ash's life has been a string of traumatic events, teaching him over and over that nothing is permanent, and surviving is a constant struggle. He doesn't hope for a peaceful life, to him it's unthinkable - until Eiji comes into his life. However, he's come too late.

5. Shallan Davar (Stormlight Archive)

He saw it in her eyes. The anguish, the frustration. The terrible nothing that clawed inside and sought to smother her. She knew. It was there, inside. She had been broken. Then she smiled. Oh, storms. She smiled anyway.

Shallan turns her back on her past, and puts on a face that suits an occasion. Then another face that's more useful in a different situation. Then another, that keeps her safe in an ordeal. Until she forgets who she was under all the masks.

And yes, she still smiles.

(I sense a pattern here)

4. Elim Garak (Deep Space 9)

"Oh, it's just Garak. Plain, simple Garak."

Spy-turned-tailor, living on a space station controlled by a country that his homeland has occupied in a long, bloody war. He's got a lot of baggage. He's got a lot of skills he'd rather not use again, but he does it nevertheless - for the friends? allies? he's made, who oppose his homeland. His character balances making new connections with the inability to escape his past.

3. Baru Cormorant (The Traitor Baru Cormorant)

“I have committed a terrible crime,” she said, voice firm, controlled, machined to a polish. “So terrible that I feel I can do anything, commit any sin, betray any trust, because no matter what ruin I make of myself, it cannot be worse than what I have already done.”

A brilliant woman who set her mind on dismantling a tyrannical empire from within, by climbing up its ranks, and with each push forward loses a part of herself.

2. Maedhros (The Silmarillion)

Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.

Doomed by his father's pride, bound by an oath that forced him to slay his kin, forgiven by his childhood friend, and trying to do right by the people he'd hurt, advocating for peace and restraining his brothers' tempers. He keeps trying. Leading their armies into the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, only to face dreadful defeat. And be left only with his younger brother and the oath still unfulfilled.

1. Jadzia Dax (Deep Space 9)

"You have to realise, there's some things in life you can't control. And one of them is me."

A beauty that isn't just feminine, a strength that isn't just masculine, balancing wisdom with spontaneity. She's her own person, and I love her for it.

I feel like this list is missing another good villain...

[persephie]

Ava wants to make faerie!Odin some clothes so he’s not just wearing that petal-skirt but she’s garbage at sewing

[latenightsimping]

Love is engraved in your heart

Summary: It’s your first anniversary, and Eddie has a special gift for you.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Words: 3,609

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, drug usage mention, gift giving is reader’s love language, pet names, they kiss a lot, sexual undertones at the end but nothing graphic mentioned, not beta read

AN: I want a guitar pick necklace so badly man. But I already wear a very similar version of the ring he wears on his ring finger, got bangs cut in my hair and have a tattoo appointment to have his guitar permanently on my skin so like I’m already on thin ice when it comes to being OTT about it lmao. But I do use the same colour and pattern of his pick necklace when I play guitar, so that’s a happy medium. Fun fact: I was writing this while hanging out with some friends (we call it writing club but it’s more of a chill out, maybe some writing but mostly watching movies and maybe doing other stuff) and I was looking up shirts for reference. Friend looked over and mentioned it, another buddy knew exactly what it was for when I mentioned I was writing a fic and I got roasted for it lmao. Anyway this has gone on too long, hope you like it!!

Eddie was one of the most perceptive people that you ever knew. He could tell just by a small quiver of your bottom lip that you were upset about something, or a slight furrow of your brow meaning you were deep in thought. It was what you loved about him; he was always checking in on you, making sure you were okay or simply pulling you into his lap so he could press kisses into your neck and make you smile.

Today, something was catching your attention from across the diner. Your eyes slightly widened, relaxing your chin on your palm as you leaned on the tabletop. Following your eyeline, he noticed that you were passing glances towards a couple that seemed to also be on a date, the girl giggling as her fingers twirled the gold necklace around her neck. He quirked a brow as he gently tapped your foot underneath the booth, smiling softly as he tilted his head. “Everything okay, pretty girl?”

The small blush that dusted the apples of your cheeks whenever he called you that pet name never failed to make his heart flip. Your head snapped back towards him, a shy smile gracing your features as you pulled your milkshake closer to you. “Yeah, all fine,” you answered, your fingertips playing with the straw. “Just thinking.”

“Oh? Mind filling me in?” He was curious now, head tilted as his honey brown eyes took in your features from his place opposite you. Noticing how your eyes flickered back to the girl, before back to him.

“Just admiring her necklace. I think it’s pretty.”

He turned his head, finally noticing the detailing of the gold charm around her neck. In delicate cursive, the name ‘Scott’ rested on her sternum, his mind instantly being transported to his girl wearing one with his name. How pretty she would look wearing it, letting the whole town know that she was proud to be with him. When you both first started dating, he found himself slightly apprehensive about being seen with you in public. Not because he was ashamed or embarrassed; far from it. He was practically beside himself with joy when you first held his hand as you walked the streets together. But he knew his reputation, and knew that it would most likely tarnish yours too. Not that you ever cared. It was yet another reason he fell hard for you.

He grinned as he leaned forward, his hand coming out to tuck an errant hair behind your ear. “Yeah? Think you finally found what you want for our anniversary?”

You giggled, taking a sip of your milkshake as you shrugged. “They’re probably real expensive. Maybe one day.”

His brows furrowed a little at your sheepish expression. You knew that he struggled for money, considering he insisted on helping Wayne out with the bills and the fact that he was saving up as much as he possibly could, so he could hopefully move out of the trailer and find a place to live with you after he graduated like you’d talked about. But if it meant making you happy, he would skip meals just to get you what you wanted. Knowing full well that you’d probably hit the roof if he did.

He crinkled his nose as he gently caught the underside of your chin with his knuckles, making you look at him as he grinned. “Hey, if my girl wants a gold necklace, then a gold necklace she will have.”

You narrowed his eyes as you swatted his hand away, pointing a finger towards him as you mocked a scowl. “You know the rules. Twenty dollar maximum, Munson. I mean it.”

He huffed air out of his nose in amusement as he took your hand in his, pressing soft kisses to the back of it. “Alright, alright. Twenty dollar maximum,” he said with a roll of his eyes, feigning annoyance as he pulled away to reach for his wallet. “How about me and you get outta here, pretty girl? Come back to my trailer and cuddle?”

“You ask as if I’d say no,” you said with a smile, getting out of your seat as you finished up your drink, swaying on the spot as you waited for him to sort out the bill. He smiled as his arm came around your waist, pulling you close as you set your glass on the table and leaning your head on his shoulder as he walked you out. Already knowing full well that it wasn’t just cuddling that Eddie had his mind set on, and not minding one bit.

~

True to his word, Eddie didn’t exceed the limit you’d made him promise not to go over. A quick visit to the music shop across town to put in a custom order, then over to the jewellery store so he could find the right chain and grab a small flocked box. Wrapped in a pale lilac ribbon, the present was nestled behind some old amps in his wardrobe so you wouldn’t accidentally stumble across it before the date of your first anniversary.

He picked you up in the early afternoon when the day finally arrived, a massive bouquet of flowers held in his hand and his lopsided grin greeting you as you answered the door. Your eyes widened as you gasped, bouncing on your heels as you squealed in delight. “Oh, Eddie,” you cooed, taking them in your hands and inhaling the sweet scent of roses. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he smiled, pulling you into his arms and mindful not to crush the petals as he pressed your side into his chest. “Do you like them?”

You nodded, giggling as you leaned up and pressed a loving kiss into his lips. “I love them,” you assured him, kissing him again before pulling away to make your way into the kitchen. “Just lemme get these into some water and we can head out.”

With the flowers proudly displayed on your bedside table, you skipped down the stairs and headed outside, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and locking the door behind you before looping your arms around his neck. “So what’s the plan for today?”

He hummed in thought as his hands found your waist, looking down at you as he tilted his head to the side. “Well, I thought we could recreate our first date,” he offered, swaying you softly.

You giggled, the sound never failing to make his heart warm. “So eating burgers and watching horror movies on your couch?”

He nodded, his tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip. A little habit he had whenever he was slightly nervous. “I know it’s not the height of romance, but…”

You shook your head, your smile never leaving your lips as you pressed that little bit closer to him. “It sounds absolutely perfect, baby. Would take that over going to any fancy restaurant any day.”

“Christ, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss before you softly squealed and pulled away.

“Eddie! I have neighbours you know,” you whispered, mocking scandal and making him laugh.

“Let ‘em watch,” he answered as he kissed you again, a hand coming down to playfully squeeze your ass. He felt your laugh against his lips as you pulled away, swatting his hand as you descended the steps to your porch and holding out your hand.

“You comin’ or what, Munson?” you asked, nodding your head towards the van as your nose crinkled with delight.

He fell into step beside you, taking your hand in his and smoothing circles into the back of it with his thumb. “I’d follow you into Mordor, babe.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment, though you were smitten with his unabashed nerdiness. Opening the passenger door for you, he waited until you were settled before closing it behind you and sprinting over to the driver’s side. He let you choose the music as he drove, tapping the metal of his rings on the steering wheel as he enjoyed the sound of you singing along as your feet tapped out the rhythm from the place on his dashboard.

You were pleasantly surprised that he’d made an effort into cleaning up the living room in his trailer, blankets and pillows on the couch so you both could make a cosy little nest to cuddle in. With plenty of snacks and drinks ready on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get up, you settled down as he pressed play on the remote, head on his chest and legs draped over his lap as his arms wrapped around you.

Balmy afternoon eventually became a chilly evening, his body heat and the blankets keeping you cosy as you let yourself completely relax. You and Eddie had shared a few joints throughout the day, your mind slightly hazy and giving you a floaty feeling all through your body as you enjoyed the feeling of your boyfriend smoothing his hand up and down your spine. When the credits rolled on the movie you’d barely paid attention to considering you dozed off halfway through, you let out a small yawn as you stretched out your muscles and looked up to Eddie with a content smile.

“Doing okay there, princess?” he asked, looking just as relaxed and blissed out as you were.

You hummed in agreement as you nodded, sitting up a little as a grin spread across your face as you became a little more awake. “Thinking this is a good time to give you your anniversary present?”

His eyes crinkled with the sheer joy that overtook his face, pulling you closer to kiss you. “Baby, you didn’t have to get me anything,” he murmured, a hand coming up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t be silly,” you huffed in mock annoyance, pulling yourself away to grab your backpack and unzip the main compartment.

His eyes never left you, watching like a hawk as you pulled the item out and padded back towards him to join him on the couch. You placed the wrapped gift in his lap, the pale blue wrapping paper and matching ribbon tied in a bow having been meticulously added the night before.

You pulled your knees to your chest, chin resting on them as you watched his features flit from happiness to excitement, his fingers carefully running over the paper as if he was apprehensive to ruin the work you’d put into it. “Go on,” you urged with a grin, wanting to see his reaction to what you’d decided on.

He chuckled at your insistence as he carefully unwrapped the bow, setting the ribbon to the side before flipping over the present and pulling at the tape to not rip the paper. You knew that Eddie hadn’t really had the same experiences you had when it came to celebrations, being from a background where money was tight and his father too preoccupied with things other than his son. Wayne had tried his hardest when Eddie came to live with him, always making sure there was something on birthdays and Christmases, but it had left him never expecting much so he couldn’t be disappointed. But when he met you, things had changed. You were always giving him little gifts; not much monetary value to them, but things that made you think of him. Some guitar picks that you thought he’d like the pattern of. A poster that you’d found at the mall of his favourite band. A new ashtray when the last one got knocked off his bedside table and broke. Every single thing you ever got him were his treasured possessions, meaning more to him that you could possibly ever know.

Stroking the soft material of the shirt you’d got him with his fingertips, his face lit up as he recognised the design on the front. He remembered the day he’d seen it, when he’d taken you to the mall to spend the day window shopping. Heading into one of the small music stores to peruse the cassette tapes and records. He didn’t know that you noticed his longing stare at the Motörhead shirt that was hanging up on one of the racks, knowing full well that he couldn’t really afford to spend the money on it. But the next Thursday when he was running a campaign with his Hellfire group, you’d went back to the store to pick one up in his size.

You picked up on his stunned silence, letting out a small nervous laugh as you bit your bottom lip. “If you don’t like it, we can go back and exchange it-”

A squeal escaped your chest as he pounced on you, sending you flying back onto the cushions of the couch with your folded legs now trapped between his chest and your own with his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. You couldn’t help but smile as his lips found your own, peppering soft kisses that travelled to your cheek and down the side of your jaw.

“Thank you baby, I love it,” he whispered into the shell of your ear, your knees parting to allow him to slot himself between your legs. The way he looked at you when he came back up to face you never failed to make you feel warm inside. Those glossy brown eyes staring down at you like you hung the moon just for him, adoration and fondness evident in the way his eyes crinkled with his lopsided grin.

Giving you one last kiss, he sat back up again and helped you up, pulling at the shirt he was wearing and taking it off, allowing you to get a good look at the pale expanse of his chest littered with black ink. He noticed you staring at him, taking his time on putting on his gift with a knowing wink that made a blush warm your cheeks. Smoothing down the front, he turned to you with outstretched arms. “What’dya think?”

“Looks real good on you,” you nodded, grinning as you reached out and felt the fabric between your fingers with a small hum and a tilt of your head, as if you were deep in thought. When he gave you a questioning look, you barely held back your laughter at your own joke as you smirked. “Feels like boyfriend material to me.”

His head fell back as he laughed in earnest, pulling you into his arms as he nuzzled the top of your head. “Such a dork.”

“Yeah. But I’m you’re dork,” you countered, looking up at him as you bit your lower lip, smile still evident in your face.

“That you are,” he nodded, tapping your thigh as he let go. “Alright, time for your present.”

You blinked owlishly, confusion plain on your face as he stood up and started to walk towards his bedroom. “But you already gave me my present, right? The flowers?”

“Well yes, but they’re not your actual anniversary gift,” he answered, stopping to look back at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Your eyes narrowed a little as you pouted. “I thought we agreed on a twenty dollar maximum.”

“That we did,” he answered with a smug look. “But you didn’t say anything about multiple gifts. I spent under twenty dollars on both. Therefore, I’m off the hook.”

Damn him. You knew he was good at finding loopholes, no doubt years of practice as a DM not wanting his players to pull any fast ones and get out of the traps and plots he set. He laughed as he took a look at your slightly annoyed face, heading into his bedroom and coming back a couple of minutes later with a small box. He gently handed it to you, sitting back down and his hand finding it’s place on your thigh, rubbing soft circles into your skin.

You weren’t actually mad at him, not by a long shot. You let him know that by letting your face brighten, carefully tugging at the ribbon and letting it join the one that you’d added to his gift between you.

You lifted the lid, and you let out a soft gasp at the contents. Beautifully presented was a guitar pick; the same deep red tortoise shell design as the one that he wore on a chain of his own and had a small pile of in his room, the ones that he pretty much exclusively used whenever he played. A small hole had been added to the top, a silver ring connecting it to a delicate chain of the same shade. Your eyes became blurry with tears as you noted the extra detail. Engraved on the pick were your initials and a cross, the letters E.M underneath and the whole thing encapsulated with a heart. It reminded you of the time he’d proudly carved the same thing on the old table in the woods where you went to smoke during lunch breaks at school, the one that you always traced the lines of whenever you went there.

“Eddie,” you whispered, heart beating that little bit faster as you brushed away the tears that threatened to fall as you let out a stuttered breath.

“Aw hey, c’mon no tears,” he said softly, his grip on your thigh gently squeezing you as his free hand came up to brush the pad of his thumb over the apples of your cheeks. “I really do that bad?” he asked, a small nervous laugh escaping him.

“They’re happy tears,” you assured him with a smile, carefully taking the necklace out of the box and setting the packaging aside as you offered it to him. “Help me put it on?”

He nodded, and you brushed your hair up and away from you neck as you turned away so he could see the clasp. The pick rested on your sternum, proudly displaying the engraving as his nimble fingers made quick work of fastening the chain. You felt his hands gently brush over your shoulder blades when he was done, and you turned back, looking down as you run your fingertip over the makeshift charm.

“I love it,” you enthused, looking back up at him and looping your arms around his neck to kiss him. You could feel his smile against you, his hands finding your hips as he gently pulled you towards him as he deepened the kiss. You took the hint, sliding into his lap until you straddled him, moaning softly as you felt his tongue swipe against your lips. You parted them for him, enjoying how he flicked his tongue against your own in the way that always made you softly mewl against him.

You stayed like this for what felt like a blissful eternity, regretfully having to pull away when you remembered that breathing was a necessity. His head only pulled away a few inches, enough for his eyes to dart down towards your chest as a lopsided grin spread across his face. “It’s no gold necklace with my name on it, but I thought you’d like something a bit more unique.”

He knew he would adore the sight of you wearing it, but something snapped in him when it was finally around your neck. That small, feral part in the back of his brain feeling a sense of ownership, of putting his mark on you so everyone could see that you wanted to be with him. It was a similar feeling he had whenever he draped his coat over your shoulders when the weather took a cold turn, or borrowed one of his T-shirts to sleep in when you stayed over. The feeling of heady adoration that made his heart skip a beat and caused his jeans to tighten.

“It’s better than anything I could have possibly dreamed of,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against his. “Lots of girls have those designs. I have something completely one of a kind.”

He let out a small hum of happiness as he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “So I did good?”

“You did good,” you echoed, kissing him as you relaxed against his chest. “Thank you baby.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Long gone was the apprehension that he felt about you not liking the gift. That small paranoid voice in his head, telling him you mind find it tacky or not your style. Or even worse, that he missed the mark entirely and you found it creepy. Now that you were making contented sighs as your head rested on his shoulder, he finally allowed himself to feel pride that he’d managed to make you this happy. Both of you sharing the comfortable silence that filled the room.

You were the first one to speak. With a small smile, one of your hands came up to touch the chain around your neck. “You know I’m never taking this off, right?”

He chuckled, looking down at you as he rubbed the skin at the small of your back. “No? Not ever?”

“Never ever,” you nodded, sitting up to look at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Wanna see how it looks when it’s the only thing I’m wearing?”

You let out a yelp as his grip fell to your ass, picking you up as he stood and making you quickly clamp your legs around his waist so he didn’t drop you. You heard the soft growl of want that rumbled in his chest as he carried you towards the bedroom, his teeth grazing your neck as he walked.

“Thought you’d never ask, angel.”

[mcjeanalds]

i am in desperate need of posting so here are some random headcanons about my main 9!! (i'll do like at least 2 each, some may have more)

~~~

- connie would be the kid with the speaker in his bag (public school kids, y'all know exactly who i'm talking about)

- eren went through an eyeliner phase. in public? no, but he would just sit around with eyeliner on

- never give sasha the aux because she would just blast "tia tamera" by doja cat on full volume while screaming the lyrics with the windows open

- levi loves cats, he like...,. relates to them? idk but he sees himself in cats and thinks they're adorable n shit

- mikasa has cried to multiple different mitski songs, even ones she can't even relate to (she's just like me fr fr)

- sasha and connie always gaslight jean by making up scenarios and being like "omg remember when..." and jean gets so anxious and thinks he's losing his memory

- erwin really wants a cool sleeve of tattoos but won't do it because he remembers that tattoos are permanent and removing them is painful and expensive

- hange owns a cowboy hat for absolutely no reason, but when they remember they have it, they don't take it off for like a week

- armin, eren, and mikasa fucking love dancing even though they're horrendous at it, and they don't even actually dance, they kinda just jump around and head bang to whatever song is playing (it's cute tho <3)

- sasha is a sucker for squishmallows, especially the food shaped ones

- hange is definitely, not exactly a stoner, but an avid smot poker and is always willing to share

- mikasa can play guitar!! not that well, but she can still play better than everyone else!!

- armin keeps a picture of his pet in his wallet in case he ever feels down and needs to cheer up a bit

- eren's guilty pleasure is astrology. he's not super into it and he doesn't understand everything, but sometimes he'll just be like "oh of course she's a taurus" or some shit

- levi owns so much jewelry. like.... so much. and it's all silver. this mf has rings and necklaces and bracelets and is so tempted to get his ears pierced too

- connie bites. like if him and his friends are like fake fighting/wrestling, he will bite. not hard, but he'll do it

- jean's hair is super fucking soft, regardless of how sweaty or gross he might be

- erwin is great with kids, but not babies. like someone will ask him to hold their baby and he'll like place it under his armpit and just keep it there

- hange has the worst sense of humor– corrupt gen z humor. like y'know that one picture of the horse without legs on the ground and it's captioned "ground beef"? yeah that kinda shit

- armin collects funko pops of all his favorite shows/movies and has all of his all-time favorite characters out of the box on a separate shelf

- levi has baby soft skin regardless of any wounds or scars, and he doesn't even have like a super specific skin care routine or anything

- sasha, jean, and connie all play roblox together at like 3 am when they're drunk off of tiredness and everything is funny

- hange gets fascinated by things that are holographic and will buy it even if they're never gonna use it

- eren steals mikasa's phone and takes 4000 blurry and unflattering pictures on it. she always keeps the most humiliating ones

- armin and hange discuss fnaf lore. jean once caught them playing the first fnaf game together and then he got hooked too

- levi once got into a bad habit of calling things "camp" and then had to explain it to erwin. he was very confused

- jean and connie wanted to make their own nft. everyone immediately shut them down

~~~

literally did this on a whim.,,, enjoy my little ackersluts

[redrose-arrow]

More headcanons, except this time they’re modern AU

Pauline is diagnosed with breast cancer, Halt and Crowley take turns taking her to the hospital. Arald, Duncan, and Rodney would do it too, but their jobs are not as flexible. (After all, Halt and Crowley can just leave and no one would ask a single question.)

Jenny dared Alyss to do something ✨wild✨, so Alyss got a little minimalist butterfly tattooed on her right lower shoulder. (this is before Will gets called Chocho.)

Will, for some reason, always forgets his phone.

Halt pretends to hate technology but is actually a very solid hacker. As it turns out, creative documentation translates pretty well to the world of digital technologies.

Will and Gilan have a permanent disagreement regarding the Apple vs Samsung debate.

Alyss is a perfect driver. But only after having failed her exam twice (projection? i don’t know her).

Alyss has a double bachelors degree in International Relations & Organisations, and International Studies. In International Studies, she did a double specialisation in East Asia with Japanese and Europe with French and German. no i’m not projecting.

Maddie’s favourite sweater is pink and says “unicorn”. still not projecting.

Cassandra has a minimalist fox tattooed on her left arm and also got her nose pierced. it took some convincing of Duncan by Crowley, but he’s cool with it now.

Alyss would do rowing as a sport.

Jenny would have a cooking tiktok that competes in size with Will and Horace’s dog account

Jenny and Gilan have an ongoing and unspoken competition of who’s eyeliner looks better.

Cassandra passed her driving exam the first time immediately and that surprised,,,,, literally everyone. 

[taketwoinink]

hi feeling like a worthless pile of junk gonna rant now you've been warned

so I don't know what's been up with the past couple of days but I keep having moments where I just feel... upset-ish and I want to rant but I don't know what to rant about

and I'm part of this Discord server and we have a rant space and I finally actually said something on there and no one's responded and I know it shouldn't be a big deal and it's not like I asked for advice or reassurance but I really want some and now I feel too meaningless to ask and I'm just going to cry and I wish someone would notice and comfort me

why is life so freaking hard? it keeps getting better and then worse again and I'm so tired of it I want to make some permanent progress please

I feel like everyone else bonds and has friends and can fit in and I'm always different and on the outside and I try and I'm just too weird and misshapen and all over the place and I don't belong anywhere. and I almost wish it was true so I didn't feel like I'm faking because I know realistically that people do like me and are similar to me but I don't feel it

and everyone else on this Discord server has friends and comforts and helps each other out and I feel like when I try I just come up short and no one's reaching out to me and I just feel dumb and alone and insufficient

and now I'm crying and it's making my throat really hurt

I kind of want to drop out of the Big Bang because my brain's convinced itself that whatever beta I'm going to get is going to hate me and I'm so afraid and I feel so stupid over the stupidest things and I've tried my best and it's not enough

and nothing's working out for me anymore. like we don't even having freaking eyeliner and it's such a small thing and yet I know it would have made me 10x more confident in myself today

I don't feel like I'm worth anything. like I really want to get a binder and yet I feel like I'm not worth the money it would take to get one (it's not even like they're the most expensive thing out there and they'd help me so much) and plus I'd either have to ask my mom or go through my brother and I don't know that my mom would go for it and I'm stupidly worried that my brother will judge me even though I know he won't

is it too much to just wish they'd stop calling me a 'she' for one day? that I could just have one day where I could tell them that I'm nonbinary and they could listen and there wouldn't be questions or contention and i could just be me and it could just be easy why do I always have to fight so hard

this time last year I was really suicidal. i kept finding reasons to put off killing myself. first it was my cousin's birthday then my brother's then my dad's and by then I got help so it was fine but I feel like I'm going to start regressing back to that point and sometimes I find myself falling back into that habit of thinking "well if this fails I'll just kill myself" as a sort of comfort thing. they all hate me? i'll just die. fail school? i'll just die

i don't know. I don't want that as my backup plan. I want to live, I want to be happy, I want to see myself every day in the mirror and feel comfortable, I want to go off and become a silversmith and open up a jewelry store next to the hypothetical future bakery my friend will run, I want to have a dog without it being so complicated, I want to stop hurting all the time, I want to like myself without thinking instead of having to justify why I'm worth it

and I just smudged mascara onto my blanket yay

and brain's been trying to say "oh you just think you're nonbinary, you're actually just confused and you're a girl"

can't I just be me? why is it so complicated? why is it so hard?

i feel like I should be doing more to help out my family. i tell myself hey you survived another day that's good enough but is it? am I really good enough?

i don't want to have to sit through family scripture study. i don't want to be misgendered anymore. i don't want to do this

i should have gone to bed but I stayed up and I know late night brain isn't trustworthy but i still feel all this anyway

welp, if you made it this far, thanks for listening

hope your day is going better than mine

[knyplotrewrite]

Why Uzui Tengen (Rewritten) has a twin sister

(and other aspects of his character that I added or otherwise removed! This is just me putting out my own thoughts while writing Tengen)

Honestly, when I first started this, I didn’t really understand what made Tengen so compelling to viewers. Even in the first iterations of this rewrite I just didn’t care about him much if at all. Maybe it was his personality being so different from the other Pillars? Maybe it was all the weird questionable shit that Gotouge added in when it would’ve been better to just not have it at all? Maybe his inner conflict in his own arc doesn’t feel as fleshed out as other characters? A combination of all three?

I really took the time to examine his canon characteristics, decided most of it was bullshit or ill fitting, and essentially gave him the Rewrite Zenitsu treatment where he’s more a decent person than comedic relief (I really should talk about Zenitsu, huh?). Basically everything that is revealed about his character in Rewrite RLD contributes to some aspect of his deeper motives and philosophies, from him obsessing and being very defensive over his looks to joking about his tits, all of it.

Then there is his twin sister who I created for a multitude of reasons. I always felt like his tragedy regarding his past as a shinobi was rather flat and uninteresting, and his narrative connection to Gyutaro and Daki doesn’t even exist. Tenten kills two birds with one stone, with the addition of also offering a motivation for Tengen to become a Demon Slayer. Honestly one of my best literary decisions.

Tenten as a character is openly brash and rebellious, always one to challenge the status quo and the traditions that their family see as law. If it weren’t for her, Tengen easily could have just been another selfish ninja succumbing to the harsh and sexist practices of his clan. She is practically instrumental to his current worldview and his more obvious motivation in leaving the clan for good. Yes, Tengen already breaks so many societal ideas and norms in more ways than one, but she’s a factor in many of them.

Like makeup.

Tengen’s relationship with makeup and his appearance in general has always been a major source of internal conflict. Makeup is typically associated with femininity (no duh), and his identity as a trans man, even when he didn’t realize he was trans yet, very much conflicted with those ideas. But, when Tenten and him actively started to present themselves more flamboyantly as a “fuck you” to their clan’s traditional principles, he began rethinking his relationship to makeup as not a way to enforce femininity but a tool for self-expression. I find it quite significant that he wore the same flashy style of eyeliner, eyeshadow, and lipstick in the present day, almost as a nostalgic callback to his first journey into gender nonconformity with his sister.

It’s more than just makeup; its a major part of who he is. Really recontextualizes those scenes where Gyutaro and Tengen’s parents either tell him he would look better without it or pester him in cleaning it off respectively, don’t you think? (I’m sure Gyutaro didn’t mean to offend him since he’s got his own complicated relationship with his appearance, that’ll be for another post though.)

He became comfortable and proud of his own identity because of Tenten, so its really no wonder why hes so obsessed in trying to find her again. It’s not just the promise of them being “those permanently single white haired bitches.” It’s SO much more.

[joheunsaram]

In Plain Sight (knj)

Summary- After weeks of preparation and stress, you believed you were ready for the opening night of your restaurant. However, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your ex waiting for you.

word count- 2k

pairing- idol!Namjoon x chef!Reader (feat. bff!Seokjin, brother!Jungkook)

rating- PG

genre- angst, exes to (maybe) lovers

warnings- none to note, Namjoon eats mincho

a.n- Happy birthday to my bae, Beezy @hobeemin​! I hope you had the best day and that this isn’t too late haha. I know you requested this for my March drabbles but I got carried away. Here’s some angst to heal your soul!

A huge shout out to @casuallyimagining​ and @missgarnet​ for beta reading! 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

You sighed in relief as the first customers of the night started pouring in. This was it. This was what you had been working towards for the past ten years. After years of culinary school, slaving away as a sous chef and begging investors, tonight was the night that you unveiled your new restaurant.

You ran your clammy hands over your pants as you greeted your guests, the most radiant smile on your face, before checking in with the kitchen. Even before the grand opening, the fact that one of your investors was the beloved chef Baek Jong-won, had people excited about your restaurant. It had put a lot of pressure on you, but watching your head chef prepare the kitchen for the dinner rush calmed your nerves. It was comforting being in the back, the clatter of pans and shouts of commands made you feel at home.

“Checking up on me already, boss?” Seokjin asked, chuckling as he draped a towel over his shoulder. In addition to being your head chef, Seokjin was also your best friend, supporting you over the years to make your dream come true.

“Can never be too sure, what with your habit of getting distracted by your reflection,” you joked, earning a scowl and a whack from Seokjin’s towel. Pushing him back, you laughed as he yelled at you for almost killing him, his dramatics at an all time high, probably the same nerves churning through him as you.

Where the kitchen was chaotic, the front of the house was almost serene, a low rumble of conversation offset by a soft jazz playlist you had spent hours curating. Your nerves dissipated as the first orders arrived, the customers smiling and nodding at the first taste. 

Moving behind the bar, you checked on Jungkook, your younger brother and bartender. No one would have ever thought the two of you would end up working together, given the fights you had all through your childhood, the scar of one of them permanently etched on his cheekbone. 

“Did you invite him?” He asked as he shook a drink, the ice rattling obnoxiously in the metal container. 

“Who?” You asked, your nose scrunching at the aggressive way he made the drink. You swore if he broke another glass you were going to take it out of his paycheck, shared gene pool or not. 

“Namjoon,” he whispered theatrically, using his eyes to point towards the corner of the room. The sound of his name set you on edge, your heart in your throat. 

You hadn’t thought of your ex for over two years, since the night he walked out on you and you vowed to never let anyone take control of your happiness and leave you broken on a whim. However, that didn’t stop you from following your brother’s eyeline to the more secluded tables of your restaurant. 

He looked different. So different that it cracked the carefully constructed armour around you, a frown etching onto your features as you took him in. Dressed head to toe in black, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for Jungkook.

He looked out of place, anxious, as he drummed his fingers on the menu, staring at it intently. The hood of his oversized jacket was atop his head concealing his dyed blonde hair, and his black mask was pulled low on his chin, leaving his bare face on display as if his new album wasn’t currently at number one. 

He was biting his lip, his brows scrunched together and it sent you back to two years ago, the memories flooding your brain as the ache you’d worked endlessly to ignore reared its ugly head once again. 

“We should break up,” Namjoon said, his lower lip between his teeth, as he stood in the doorway. He was still dressed in his outfit from the shoot he had returned from; a shiny silver bomber jacket adorned atop a plain black outfit, his makeup still on perfectly. It gave him an ethereal look, all flaws hidden from view as he looked at you in your striped blue pyjamas, hair up in a messy bun, face puffy from sleep. 

His words felt like you had been hit with ice water, like you were skating on a frozen river and it gave way from under you plunging you into a panicked cold that felt akin to a burn. You didn’t know how long he watched you, your face neutral after you demanded an explanation. 

“It’s not fair to you, Berry,” he said, voice soft and broken as he finally made his way to the bed. He sat as far away from you as he could and the distance seemed to stretch on for miles. You were confused by his sudden change. Just yesterday he had arrived home with smiles and cuddled into you immediately, just as he had done for the past three years, but today you were hard pressed to find that warmth, his gaze never meeting yours. 

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair to me,” you stated. “We are not breaking up.” Decision made, you slipped the cover over yourself as you reclined back into your supine position. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, almost silently but the quiet of the room gave him away, his distraught weaving itself in your skull. 

“Juniper, let’s talk about this,” you pleaded, a hand reaching to grab onto his that he shrugged off. 

“No. If we talk about this you will convince me to stay and I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What did I do?” Your voice was soft, as if you spoke any louder it would startle the seemingly broken man in front of you. 

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he spoke the cliche, his dimples making an appearance in the sad smile he gave in your direction. You didn’t understand what was happening. Namjoon was a man of many words, slinging together poetry out of thin air in seconds, inspired by the mundane. He continued, talking over your thoughts, as he explained the reasons he was hurting you, the reasons he was a bad partner. All reasons that you have never even conceived - a product of his overthinking, anxious mind. Every time you would argue, he would counter with his own failings, like how he couldn’t make it to your culinary school graduation and how his fame made him unavailable to go to whenever you needed him. 

Namjoon cried, inconsolable even when you tried to assure him that his failings were in his imagination, that you were happy, content. But he had a notoriously one-track mind, and the only conclusion he could come to was that he couldn’t bear to be with you any more. 

“Seeing you always waiting for me breaks my heart,” he whispered as he held you, your face in his hands as he smiled for your benefit. You didn’t know how to convince him otherwise, but the way he kissed you, tasting of salt and regret, you knew it would be the last time he would do so. 

When he left that night, you finally cried, mourning a relationship that he snatched away from you, before the tears turned to rage, heartbreak manifested into indignation. 

“Are you going to talk to him?” Jungkook broke you out of your reverie just before you could further relive the sorrow. 

“No. Absolutely not. He can enjoy his solo dinner,” you replied, turning on your heels to go into your office, your excitement for the night overshadowed by Namjoon’s sudden reappearance. It wasn’t bad enough that you had to see him in your restaurant but as you turned on a random playlist fate decided that you would hear him too as he talked about your break up on his new single. His sultry vocals rapped about his self loathing and need to please only to realize that he left the only person who loved him for himself. You were bitter that he had this epiphany, bitter that he was monetizing on something that was as much your heartbreak as his. 

But what Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets, and as the dinner rush ended and the crowd dwindled with last call, he was still sitting in the corner table, sequestered away from eyes as he played with his dessert. He must have known that the chocolate bon bons were inspired by him, dubbed Juniper like you had called him all those years, and extra mint added just to spite him. The same way he had named his new song Back to Berry, an homage to no one else but you. 

When he refused to leave even after Jungkook asked, you had no choice but to act civil and make your way towards him. He gasped as you unceremoniously settled in the chair in front of him, eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. As if he had not been waiting three hours for this exact moment

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You asked, arms folded across your chest as you glared at the face you once thought you couldn’t live without. 

“I’m eating dessert,” he answered, averting your hardened gaze to poke his fork at the food. 

“We’re closing,” you said, your hand waving to your wait staff that had started clearing tables and sweeping the floors. “And you hate mint chocolate,” you added as he took a bite. 

“It was calling my name,” he chuckled humourlessly, before he sighed pushing the plate away. He finally met your eyes then, a soft smile on his face, his dimples poking their way from his cheeks into your heart. “Congratulations. You did it.”

“Yeah. Alone.” You were bitter. He had left you, practically ghosted you for two years and now he thought it was okay to waltz back in?

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping all pretenses as his hand reached towards you. “I’m so sorry, Berry.”

The use of his old nickname for you broke your heart and your facade as you looked at his hand placed directly in front of you on the table, a finger slowly caressing your forearm, almost out of reach. You couldn’t help the way your eyes glistened at his touch, tender and apprehensive. How could he think it was okay to come here? How could you think you wouldn’t forgive him if he asked?

In that moment all you wanted was to run back into his arms, kiss him, delve back into that chaotically beautiful brain of his, but your pride was stronger than all the apologies in the world. 

“It’s too late,” you said as you stood up, his head dropping as he retracted his hand back into his lap. “We’re closed. Goodbye, Juniper.” You gestured to the door, waiting for him to collect his bag, watching as he dropped much more money than his bill on the table before he made his way to the door. 

Turning around he looked at you, catching you staring at him with tear streaked cheeks. “I’m not going to give up, Berry”

“You never do, do you?”

“Never when it comes to you,” he said, covering his face with his mask and adjusting the hood atop his head before disappearing into the quiet street. 

That night you felt your defences weaken a little when you got a message from an unknown number. 

I forgot to tell you. I still miss you. Even after 708 days.

-

taglist: @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @aroseforyoongi​, @awhnamjoon​, @agustdjoon​, @codeinebelle​ 

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[arcadejohn127-9]

Can you do a headcannon with the undateables now dateables please?? 😁 with an mc that wears a ton of make up and one day she doesn't cuz she forgot and they are like astounded by mcs looks and compliment them and tell them they don't need to wear so much cuz they are beautiful! Thank you!!!

I'm sure you didn't mean it for it to be like this, but this ask has a "I got stuff that's internalised" vibes and so I'm going to make this a teaching moment.

To Everyone who follows, wearing makeup or not is up to you - how much you wear is your bussiness. Besides, what is considered 'alot' could be a natural look depending on how many products you use.

I personally don't use foundation or concealer, my face is spotless and smooth and I incorporate my eyebags into my eye looks. But there's still the amount of eyeshadow I use as contour, actual eyeshadow, eyeliner guide and even to add more vibrance or odd colours to my lips. I also use eyeliner. Which doesn't seem like alot but its full face look.

Your makeup is your business and you shouldn't shame those who do wear it or those who don't nor should you rely on a man or woman to tell you when you look good. Your always look good, period. The trope of girls who stops wearing loads of makeup turns out to be naturally pretty just links to a mindset that people who do wear makeup only wear it because their ugly or trying to hide their true appearance.

Which is stupid because unless you're going out your way to do face morph looks, makeup is used to enhance features you already have. It just helps to bring attention to how pretty your features are.

"they don't need to wear so much because they're beautiful!" You don't stop being beautiful when you put makeup on. Again how much you wear and what you do with your appearance is your bussiness.

But I think that's enough of me going on, let's actually get into this.

Diavolo:

"ah, what a surprise, you're not wearing your makeup today, did something happen?"

He looked at your curiously

You dissmivley waved your hand, smiling

"Oh-! Yeah- I forgot to do it this morning and didn't want to run late for class, that's all."

"you look stunning might I add without it, it's a refreshing change - that sounded rude...I didn't mean for it come out like that."

He immediately looked guilty

Hand over his mouth realizing his words, he his lips pursed

It looked like he was internally beating himself up about it

You decided to be nice, patting his shoulder, seeing he didn't mean for it come out like that

"You're right, I am stunning but yeah, I get what you mean, it's new and I look good without it but I also good in it! It makes me feel good and lets me show off my favourite features."

You used your hands to shape and point out said features

Diavolo intently watched your hands but still had a guilty and apologetic expression

"I see, forgive my rudeness I never intended to imply anything, I'm glad you have something that makes you feel confident and happy."

"it's okay, Dia, perhaps I can do a look on you aswell? Show you the appeal."

Diavolo could be a child at heart and he almost squealed

He has been interested by your makeup ever since you've arrived

But instead of letting himself show his full excitement he nodded, grinning

He was aware of his butler's eyes on him aswell as Lucifer's

"I'd be delighted to."

Barbatos:

"I had a feeling I'd see a surprise today, it appears it was you, is there a reason you've decided to not do your usual look?"

"it sounds silly but just forgot, I was so tired this morning I'm pretty sure I dreamed doing my routine and couldn't tell the difference."

You laughed at yourself, gently scratching your cheek

You were embarassed by how easily tricked you were by your tired mind but you couldn't really blame yourself

You haven't been sleeping much so after finally getting the best sleep in your life you were bound to get groggy

He smiled, tilting his head to the side

His eyes looked as if he was scolding you

"thats abit alarming, get your needed sleep though the change isn't uninvited, you're very pretty."

You could tell he meant no harm by his words

But you've dealt with situations similar to this where the person was being very passive aggressive

It made you feel bitter and have a need to explain yourself

"I'll be sure to sleep, thanks but this isn't going to be a permanent thing, I'm very much happy with my usual look! Makes me feel more pretty~ I don't think there's such a thing as being too pretty."

You both chuckled at your end statement

"Fair, I do not control what you do but I advise you stop spending so much with asmodeus, you're starting to sound like him - I have actually done makeup myself, perhaps you'd like to see some examples? I'm intrigued if you have any feedback or tips I could use."

"asmo is just truthful! But on a serious note, I'd actually love to see that and feel honoured you'd want my feedback! You better not back out on this."

Solomon:

"I almost didn't recognize you, what a stray from your usual look, it's very off brand - I'm afraid viewers might be displeased."

You couldn't help but smile

He was using an inside joke you two made

After refering to one of the years as a season you two started making a few jokes about it

But it became a habit and now you two just had a thing were you pretended you were self aware TV characters

"Oh no! We can't have the ratings go down! Haha- I don't look that different, don't be ridiculous, I think it's just your eyes old man."

You poked the side of his face, near his eye

He frowned, he let you have passes on calling him old due to favouritism

But still got grumpy when you joked and brought him his age

You did only say it to tease and if he got genuinely upset or mad about it you'd immediately stop

"I'm not old, just wise - just for that your fanbase has shrunk but sadly, your good looks will bring them back."

You had a light blush on your cheeks, waving your hand

Acting as if you've swooned for him you leaned against his shoulder

"you're so kind yet so mean~ but I'm sure they'll prefer my normal form than this one, I kinda feel naked without my makeup - it's almost shameful."

"don't say that so loud, who knows who'll turn up naked, I'd rather not experience that today."

You bursted out laughing

Meanwhile he looked like he was experiencing Flashback'

Simeon:

"I like the new look, it's very natural! but is that makeup or your actual-"

"My face is bare, I forgot to put it on, not really bothered today."

His slender finger was pointed to your face, squinting to see if he could see

You almost wanted to laugh but you just lazily shrugged your shoulders

"oh! You're still look just as beautiful, I can't believe I couldn't tell, ever since I saw your more extra looks I've been looking into makeup and I saw people could make it look like they weren't wearing any."

"Thanks but don't worry, I'm not Insecure without it or anything, just really enjoy it! - oh? You're looking into it? Is there any looks you like specially, some people are really amazing at looking extremely natural or being really artistic - it's amazing."

He nodded

"pardon me then, I didn't mean to imply anything I just saw how much bad press was around it all and wanted to say incase but yes, I'm extremely intrigued by high light! It's so sparkly!"

He looked apologetic before his expression turned into one of awe and inspiration

You smiled, happy to see he was interested in something you were already passionate about

It was good to see him wanting to learn and gain interest

"You're sweet Simeon but this human is very happy! I see~ let me do your makeup later or a day you're free, I can give you my extra shimmery high light to really make those cheekbones of yours pop!"

His eyes were sparkling so brightly

Grinning from ear to ear with excitement

"I'd love to! Please, I want you to show me all your amazing ideas."

Luke:

"Your face is different, you're not wearing makeup!"

"And your face is still childlike, you're correct though, I forgot to do it."

You both pouted at each other, glaring

The moment quickly ended as soon as he started to speak

"oh, I thought this was going to be a thing now....you're pretty, why do you wear it? You don't need to especially the amount you normally wear."

You frowned

Annoyed no one has taught him about this kind of thing and how what he was saying was rude

Mentally noting to speak to Solomon and Simeon about this

But you couldn't be too mad, he was a child

You decided to make this a reaching moment for the young angel

"Well you see Luke, anyone can wear makeup even if they're super confident with their features or super Insecure, it makes people feel good and extra attractive or it can make you look dead and gross - really up to the person - and I'm just someone who really likes wearing makeup and alot of it, what may seem like alot to others could be basic to others, it's all about your personal touch and wants."

"I see....I'm sorry I didn't really understand-"

He looked absolutely devastated

Ashamed and guilty and extremely apologetic

"It's okay, I know you're still learning about these things - hey, how about I do your makeup and we can see what you like?"

You lifted his puffy hat, ruffling the messy hair beneath it

He didn't even swat your hand away

He was too excited and relieved by what you were saying, he jumped up and down as his hands turned into fists

"Really?! I'd- I'd like that, I'll go ask Simeon if you can come over and do it for me! Maybe we can try out your kind of style?"

"Sounds perfect, now go ask~"

He hastily rushed off to find the older demon

You watched from slight afar him asking permission but gave simeon a 'we need to talk' look

[gdcee]

Road to Nowhere

Pairing: Loki/Sigyn - mild, might have to squint to see it.

Summary: Loki and Sigyn talk while she escorts him to Kid Loki's Kingdom.

Warnings: Panic attack.

=================

"You know I'm only going to keep pestering you until I have the answer."

"I wish you luck in your endeavour," Sigyn returned coolly, stepping lightly as she began to climb the massive pile of garbage blocking their path. "Nevertheless, my lips remain sealed."

Loki huffed, a slight quirk at the corner of his lips which was not quite a smirk. He set off after her, determined to be the first to the summit of Rubbish Peak.

He had to admit he was quite intrigued by that tantalising crumb of information this Sigyn (so very like and yet not quite like his own) had dangled before him. Of course he was curious about the identity of the lucky bastard who had won her fidelity.

All he had was a preferred pronoun. That at least eliminated half of his (admittedly rather short to begin with) list of possible lucky bastards.

After he had gone through the list (which did not take long because as stated earlier, it was really quite short), he started throwing out random names to see if any of them got a reaction.

No such luck.

His attempts to tease and fluster the information out of her had been just as ineffective.

Her reaction to his puppy dog eyes routine had been...perplexing. He'd gotten one soft, achingly tender smile before a heavy melancholy had descended upon her. Like the dark shadow of a mourning veil stealing the brightness from her eyes and the colour from her cheeks.

She had not reprimanded him, but he made a note not to pull that trick again anyway. Besides the practical reasons for keeping her goodwill (survival, information, mental stimulation), the simple fact was that she was Sigyn.

He didn't want to be the cause of her unhappiness. Not anymore.

Being a harmless annoyance and pest was still perfectly acceptable though.

He stood atop the great mound of refuse, his hands and face smeared with oil and other liquids of questionable origin, grinning triumphantly down at Sigyn. He vanished the grime he'd accumulated before gallantly holding out his hand to her.

Sigyn huffed a soft little laugh, the barest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Without any hesitation, she reached out and allowed him to pull her up.

Loki glanced down to where they had started and noted that it was a long drop. Not nearly enough to kill an Asgardian or a Frost Giant, but enough to hurt.

Trust.

It made him feel as giddy as the first time he'd tasted the enchanted, heady liquid gold that was the mead brewed from honey harvested from the hives of the talking bees that resided near Iðunn's famous apple orchards.

"Ahem."

Loki realised with no small degree of embarrassment that he was still holding Sigyn's hand. He hurriedly worked a spell to remove the dirt under her fingernails and let go. Then to cover up his embarrassment, he resumed pestering.

"I don't understand why the identity of your beau necessitates such secrecy," he sighed with the lightest touch of a pleading whine, "Do you think I would object to your taste? He can't possibly be worse than Theoric."

"I think my life choices are none of your business."

"Exactly! You should forget about my opinion. Shout his name to the world and damn the naysayers and killjoys."

"I would but sadly, Alioth has a sense of hearing."

With that, she picked up a flat sheet of metal lying loose and proceeded to slide down Rubbish Peak on the improvised board. Despite being only at most a quarter Ljósálfar on her mother's side, she moved with their characteristic effortless grace.

Loki peered down, did a couple of quick mental calculations and snapped his fingers. He disappeared from the summit with a flare of green light and reappeared at the bottom no more than a second later in similar fashion.

"Good to see your teleport still works," Sigyn tossed her wind-mussed hair out of her face, "Why didn't you use it earlier to get to the top?"

"Too much debris and no decent eyeline. I didn't want to risk getting stuck under a foot of garbage." He frowned, pondering. "Still works?"

"Not a reference to you personally," she moved forward without looking behind to see if he followed, "Just something I noticed about some of the other Lokis around here."

"Power loss? Nothing to do with you and that coven of other Sigyns whose domain I and the other Lokis are forbidden from entering, I presume?"

"No, I've seen it even in Lokis on their first trepass - if something is limiting their power it's not us. In any case, we would never do anything to permanently disable a Loki's magic. There's just some things you don't do to a fellow mage, you know?"

"You just rough them up a little and kick them off the property?"

"More or less. Except for the kid and alligator."

"Do I want to know how one instance of me ended up as a semi-aquatic Midgardian reptile?"

"You can ask him yourself when we get to the Kid's Kingdom," she paused for a moment, as if she'd just remembered something, "Or maybe not, I think only the old man you knows how to talk to him."

Loki blinked.

"There's an old me?" He asked, disbelieving, "As in a wizened, wrinkled, looks like your grandmother me?"

"Eh, not quite as old as Grandma Hretha. Maybe about 4,000? 5,000?" She shrugged, "Either way, your vanity may rest easy; you look perfectly fine as an old man."

"Thank you for that milquetoast endorsement of my future self's good looks," Loki said dryly, "I was more perturbed about...something else."

Curiouser and curiouser.

How had the aged variant escaped their destined end? How had he managed to grow old before the TVA arrived to arrest him for cheating his final death?

He thought about the tape featuring all the TVA approved highlights of his life.

He thought about that other Loki, the Loki who had played out the role assigned to him and how very young (the same face as his own) and terrified (the same fear as his own) he had looked with the Mad Titan's monstrous hand around his throat.

Loki swallowed thickly and pulled at the collar of his TVA issued office shirt which suddenly seemed far too tight. The tie impeded his work and as he struggled to loosen it he could feel his terror rising up to choke him.

there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you

inevitable

you think you know pain?

Inevitable

HE WILL MAKE YOU LONG FOR SOMETHING AS SWEET AS PAIN

He felt his legs buckle and his knees hit the ground as if it were happening to someone else.

"Loki!" Sigyn's voice was close but he heard it as if a great distance separated them, "Loki, breathe."

"What do you think I'm doing?" He wheezed.

"I am going to remove the tie and unfasten your collar," Sigyn continued as if she had not even noticed his rudeness, "I will need to touch you to do this. Alright?"

Needing help for such a pitifully simple task was galling. But he didn't want Sigyn to leave him. Loki managed a shaky nod. He let her ease his trembling, sweaty hands from his shirt collar. With quick, brisk movements she pulled the tie loose and tossed it somewhere to join the rest of the garbage.

"Follow my breathing now." Her voice was clearer to him now, more present. She was kneeling next to him, so close and warm and oh, her hair did still smell like apple blossoms. He watched the regular rise and fall of her chest and tried to match it. "That's it. Very good. Nice and slow."

Her fingers were at his throat for a mercifully short time. Just long enough to pop the top button loose and push the starched fabric away from his neck.

"Stay with me. You're doing very well. Breathe with me. In. And out. In. And out."

Without really thinking he grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against the centre of his chest. Perhaps he was possessed by some irrational notion that the pressure against his breastbone could keep his thundering heart from beating right out of his chest.

She didn't try to pull away. Her hand was warm, even through the shirt fabric. She moved a little, and one of her dainty fingers slipped into the open gap of his unbuttoned collar and brushed against the dip between his clavicles. His breath caught in his throat for a moment before Sigyn's gentle prompting had him matching her rhythm once more.

"Feel better?" She asked after what seemed an eternity.

"Yes," he breathed, "Yes, much." His chest still felt a little tight but the worst of that dreadful episode was over.

"Good." She lifted her hand from his chest and patted his shoulder firmly - a gesture that he had seen Týr bestow upon struggling Einherjar recruits after they'd passed the final leg of their training. "You did very well."

He didn't feel like he'd done anything worth praising. He'd collapsed like a pack of cards. This wasn't the first time he'd experienced terror but every time before now he had been able to push past it - stamp it down through sheer force of will and that primitive, animal part of his brain that knew that danger was never far away.

Why had he folded now? Now - when he was probably the most at ease he'd been in ages (months? Years? How long had it been since New York?) and the threat of Thanos was no longer an issue-

...a terrible thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Just out of curiosity," Loki tried to sound nonchalant, "Have you ever come across a fellow by the name of Thanos here?"

"Thanos?" Sigyn's brows drew together in a frankly rather adorable expression of pure befuddlement.

Ah. Well, at least he could place whatever nexus event had led to her pruning as occurring before Ragnarok and Thanos's massacre of half the Asgardian survivors.

"Big purple fellow," he explained, "Quite ugly, enormous chin, has rather disturbing ideas about resource management."

"Uh, no, I can't say that I've ever met anyone like that here."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "I can swear on my magic if that would reassure you."

Sigyn had always been very leery about oaths, especially ones bound with magic. Most mages worth their salt were.

And yet...he couldn't really explain why, but he'd always felt like her issues with them were less about best practices and more about some personal grievance.

That she would offer him such a thing...

Loki felt completely undeserving.

"No," he said hurriedly, "No, no, it's fine. I...I trust you."

Sigyn smiled. It was the first real smile he'd seen so far and it was like watching the sun come out from behind a cloud. He didn't know if it would last - if that melancholy from before would snatch away the sweetness of this moment.

So Loki ruined the moment before it could be stolen from him.

"...even though you refuse to tell me about your paramour."

Sigyn scoffed, all exasperation but it was better than seeing her sad.

"You are insufferable."

"Thank you, I do try."

She snorted and shook her head. "Alright, come on, you goose," she helped him up, and even though his legs were slightly shaky, he stood and did not fall. "Our first rest stop is about 20 feet...thereaboutish-" she waved vaguely in the direction of a mostly empty grassy knoll upon which a gaggle of the oddest creatures scurried. They resembled iridescent headless chickens with little purple spheres hovering over their severed necks.

"I still think we should have taken the car."

"Ugh," Sigyn wrinkled her nose, "Cahrs. Nasty, noisy, smelly things. I swear, Midgard really went downhill after those monstrosities were invented. "