#i changed the way i draw him slightly i think its better

[spaciebabie]

wow tumblr really nerfed the quality of the first image for me christ. anyways springtrap brainrot yahoo

the double glizzy is based off this image i found at 2 am one day that made me laugh really har d when i found it

oh fuck he is going 2 shoot me oh fuck gfog go ho oh my fucking god

[mrsbarnesblog]

I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend. 

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we’re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening. 

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing. 

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.  

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least. 

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it. 

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him. 

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed. 

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels. 

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back. 

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination. 

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear. 

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.” 

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back. 

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"  

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent. 

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too. 

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips. 

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed. 

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy. 

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.” 

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go. 

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar. 

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes. 

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes. 

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness. 

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs. 

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.” 

[strawberrymochin]

The Moan Analysis✎

A slight analysis on how jjk boys would moan | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro | got a little carried away while writing nanami and toji

Gojo satoru

✎ starting off with the vocal king of sorcerers, gojo's moans would be vocal 'vocal'. Normally gojo has a playful smooth voice that does charms to human ears, however it changes completely in bed. His voice would go two or three octaves lower as he pants and groans as he thrusts in you. He's a kinda guy who would whispers slutty compliments while fucking you in the middle of the night, depriving you of your beauty sleep. If you're the one who's riding him, he would be squirming as whimpers would follow his delicate trembling lips, especially if you clench too hard around him. He has no shame voicing his pleasures and thus innocently ruins neighbour's peace.

Geto suguru

✎ Suguru's a guy, who lies mostly within rough grunts to panting breaths. He won't be the one to be much vocal while doing the thing. The vocal one in the relationship would be you, since you can't keep your mouth shut when he takes you (c'mon I mean nobody can keep it shut if it's geto suguru). He loves hearing your moans instead. And boy, he hasn't voiced out his thoughts yet, as its kinda embarrassing to him but if you would agree to it, he would record your moans into a playlist. I'm not even kidding, there would be a sorted out one containing your moans from finger fucking, eating you out, fucking you etc. (not to mention he would jerk off to those playlists when you're away from him)

Nanami kento

✎ ASMR. I repeat ASMR. The moans of nanami kento would be literal asmr to your ears. As a former salary man and now again a sorcerer, nanami gets real tired and has trouble sleeping. You were thinking of suggesting him asmr to relieve stress however you realised maybe he would want something more better. And this is how you would find yourself facing the mattress as your back is firmly pressed on namami's toned chest as he thrusts in and out, while snaking an arm around your curves finding his way to your neck slightly choking you, making you drool. His moans would be breathy and slight croaky. He won't waste his stamina trying to talk rather than keep his mind focused on the sensation on the pleasure where you suck him in so good. The only time he would be any vocal would be when he reaches his climax as he cums inside you with a series of low groans.

Ryomen sukuna

✎ Kk, forget about his moaning, this merciless guy would fuck you so hard that you would barely hear any sound other than you whining and moaning under him. The only time you could hear him moan, would be when you give him a blowjob or a titjob whatever he wants. His moans would consist of breathy groans to slight pants while he degrades you. You would know you're doing a great job if his voice cracks while passing you a snarky comment or if his breath hitched while you draw your tongue over his tip licking it clean as it twitches in your mouth. Though every single thing you do would make him experience heaven (which he would never go, nor you guys....lol) he would never accept that you have a slight dominance when sucking him or riding him as it would affect his ego.

Toji fushiguro

✎ Forget about his moans, his existence itself is the sluttiest to ever happen. Also he's such a softie in love babe I swear. He won't be much vocal again except the time he reaches his climax. He would cum as he whispers delicate words of you being such a good girl taking him in as he pants and groans. His words might mess up a little bit, as he cums, might end up blabbering nonsense incoherent words as he rides his high. He makes sure to say one thing everytime you guys have sex, is that he's grateful for you to exist in his world and would beg you a million times to never disappear. To never leave him. That's the only time he shows his true self to you, which you embrace in your arms, cupping his cheeks to gently kiss him to sleep. Even though he seems tough outside, I feel he might be the most insecure person due to his childhood experiences and might hesitate to open up to you. But there's no doubt he would be on his knees for you.

Other parts of the series- The cum analysis | The dick analysis

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[xvysarene]

𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“Marry me,” you had said.

Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.

Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”

Nothing more and nothing less.

It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.

Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”

That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.

But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.

“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.

There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.

As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.

Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.

Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”

Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.

Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.

Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway. 

“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”

Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.

“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.

Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”

Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.

It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.

He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”

When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.

You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.

His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.

If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.

Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.

“What are you reading?”

“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.

With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”

When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.

“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”

A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.

That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.

“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”

“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.

Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…

Friends. A foreign term to you.

Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.

In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”

“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus’s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.

Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”

Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?

You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.

Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.

“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”

“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”

His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.

Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”

A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.

As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.

That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.

“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”

The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.

And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.

No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus. 

How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?

“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”

You bristled. He was right, of course.

“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.

It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?

For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.

The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.

You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.

“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.

“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”

You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.

Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.

“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.

You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.

“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.

The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.

The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.

He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.

“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.

“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”

Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.

Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.

What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.

“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”

As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”

“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”

You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.

The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.

He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.

It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.

“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”

Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”

Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”

Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.

Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.

“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”

A divorce.

The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.

You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”

“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”

A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”

It was as if a wall had been erected again.

“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.

“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”

Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”

His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.

In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.

He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.

“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”

With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.

That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.

For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.

His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.

It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.

Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.

“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.

Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.

The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.

Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.

Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.

It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.

With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”

[bigfatbimbo]

Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 

[azrielwingspan]

'Someone' (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: The IC try to pry into your life and find out who you're crushing on.

Warnings : Noooone.

He was devastatingly handsome. Unfortunately for you, it did not bode well. You were supposed to be focusing on the meeting taking place and yet all you could think about was the shadowsinger seated opposite you.

"It would be best if we were to implement our previous strategy. What do you think Y/N?"

You snapped out of your daze and blinked slowly at your brother seated next to you. He looked at you expectantly as Cassian tried to stifle a laugh.

"Uhhh...yeah..we must...indeed." you choked out.

FOOL FOOL FOOOOOL. You screamed at yourself in your head trying your level best to get back your bearings and steer the meeting in your favor.

"Although, I do think we should discuss the previous strategy in detail and draw up a plan b in case things go south."

The others at the table nodded in agreement and you held in your sigh of relief. Rhys threw a suspicious glance your way but held his tongue. The people closest to you would describe you as an extremely focused and high functioning individual. Surprisingly for them and you , you were anything but that at the moment.

Azriel hadn't uttered a single word throughout the meeting instead choosing to listen attentively and observe , his usual mannerism. You stole another glance at him and froze. Fuck.

His eyes were trained on you, the gold piercing through the flecks of green and brown. Expression unreadable, he raised an eyebrow at your befuddled face. Giving him a crooked smile and almost wincing at how you must have looked, you turned your attention back to the matter at hand. Fantastic. Absolutely, truly fucking fantastic.

Putting in a ton of conscious effort, you managed to get through the rest of the meeting without making a fool of yourself again. Eventually, the conversation at the table turned into casual chatter. After all, everyone at this table was like family. You would fight for every single one of them.

"Y/N was heartbroken. It was rather funny to be quite frank." your head snapped in the direction of Mor who was shooting you a devious grin. It took a few seconds for the realization to kick in and you almost hid your face from absolute mortification. Today was going terrible.

"I was 25!! A CHILD in fae years." You defended yourself hiding your face in your hands. Laughter rose around the table and you sank further into your chair.

"Wait.." Feyre wiped a tear off the corner of her eye, trying to hold in her laughter. "so you're telling me, Y/N fell in love with a stable boy who was terrified of her? Why was he scared? What did you do?"

"She has this weird smile she ..." Rhys saw the glare you directed his way and a smug grin made its way onto his face.

"Okay..okay..I'm sure your love life has improved since then Y/N. Tell me, who is the unlucky guy these days?" Cassian asked sending everyone into a fit on raucous laughter yet again.

You were sure that everyone had noticed the way your shoulders tensed slightly. Cursing yourself for not doing a better job at hiding your emotions, you gave a casual shrug. "No one."

"Riiiiight." Cassian leaned back in his chair and looked to Azriel who had a small smile playing on his lips.

"What do you think Az? You're the spymaster after all."

"I don't pry into others personal lives brother." Azriel leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. "But...I might know who it is."

A flare of shock pulsed through you causing your heart to thump against your chest. Azriel noticed the change in your posture and let a small smirk slide onto his face. Handsome cocky bastard. Did he know?

You didn't think so. Aside from today, you had never given a hint of anything being strange or weird. He was probably playing mind games with you.

"So there is someone then." Mor's eyes twinkled , the makings of plan behind her eyes to glean the information from you later. You told Mor everything. After all, you were the best of friends. Which is why, you couldn't bring yourself to reveal this massive crush on Azriel yet. You knew Mor didn't love him that way and yet you couldn't speak to her about it.

"You guys are delusional. There is absolutely no one and I'm quite content thankyou very much. Also, spymaster..." you emphasized his title, giving him a sour smile "you need to brush up on your skills."

Azriel bowed his head trying to hide the grin blooming on his lips. "Now...if all of you are done gossiping about my non existent love life, I'm going to go spend some quality time with my new book." You left the room before any of them could notice the red blooming high on your cheeks. What you failed to notice however was a tendril of shadow reporting to its master about your flustered state.

That night as you were drifting off to sleep, a note was slid under the door into you room. It read

"It's hard not to pry when you're involved."- 'Someone'

You would be starting your morning with a heart attack tomorrow.

PART 2 OUT NOW ! READ HERE

Part 2 sneak peek here !

A/N: Let me know if you guys have any scenarios or ideas you want to read about. Would love to hear about them!

[delicatebarness]

until i found you | chapter one

Summary: After a date at the new exposition, your jealous ex decides to pay you a visit.

Warning: 40s Bucky & Pre Serum Steve. Sexual Content. Jealousy/Possessiveness. Mature Language.

Word Count: 1329

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A/N: So, another one? Also, it's Friday somewhere... - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Until I Found You:

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

The city hummed with excitement as the World Exposition of Tomorrow promised a brighter future amidst the shadows of war. City lights flickered, casting a magical glow over the bustling fairgrounds. You wandered through the crowds, hand in hand with your date, his laughter sent a deep pleasant hum to your ears as he shared a joke. 

The charm of your companion blended seamlessly with the exhilaration of the fair, and the night felt alive with possibility. His hand found its way to your waist, resting casually, and for a moment, you were swept away by the joyous chaos– dazzling lights, the futuristic exhibits, and the promise of better days to come. 

However, not far away, two pairs of eyes were fixated on you. Steve, your older brother, tried to focus on his own date, but his attention kept drifting your way. Frowning, he nudged his best friend, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. “Oh swell, she’s dating him again,” Steve muttered, barely able to hide his frustration. 

Snapping his attention to you, Bucky’s expression grew tense as he watched your date’s every move. Seeing you with another man, especially one he didn’t think much of, sparked a familiar unease. His blue eyes followed you intently, noting every touch, every laugh as his jaw tightened. 

Steve sighed beside him. “Why couldn’t you two just make it work?” 

Sensing eyes on you, you glanced around, locking eyes with Bucky. The bustling fair faded away, leaving only the intensity of his gaze. It was a look you knew well, protectiveness, concern, and a hint of possessiveness– something that had been between you since childhood, and something neither of you had ever moved on from.

Your on-and-off again relationship with Bucky– the laughter, the spats, silent understandings, and the love. The memories played like an old reel in your mind. 

Your date tugged gently at your hand, drawing your attention back to him. Smiling, his eyes twinkled under the myriad lights, but you struggled to focus. Bucky once again left his mark, stirring up emotions you had tried to bury. The man beside you spoke again, but his words were muffled and distant. 

Across the grounds, Bucky’s eyes never wavered from you– his thoughts consumed by you. The warmth of his date’s hand in his felt cold. 

“Come on, Buck, just go talk to her,” Steve urged, sensing his friend’s turmoil. “You know you want to,” 

Shaking his head slightly, Bucky’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to make a scene,” he replied, though his eyes betrayed his resolve.

~

The apartment was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. Slipping into your room, you had finished changing into your nightgown when you heard a soft knock at your door. “Come in,” you called out, setting your jewelry down on your vanity. Your heart pounded as you glanced in the mirror, finding Bucky standing at the door through the reflection. His eyes were dark and intense. 

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, stepping inside before you could answer.

You nodded, watching as he closed the door behind him. 

His hands clenched at his sides, taking a deep breath. “I can’t stand seeing you with him,” he admitted, his voice low. “It drives me crazy seeing you with someone else, Doll. It’s like a knife to the gut.” 

You barely noticed the distance between you closing, until you felt his fingers tracing up your arm. “It was only one date…” 

Pulling you closer, his grip tightened on your arm. “I don’t like it, not one bit. I hate seeing you with anyone else. It makes me… I just can’t stand it.” 

You leaned into his touch, the familiar warmth of his hand grounding you. “What about your date, huh?” 

Bucky’s thumb brushed along your lip, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s not you, Doll. No one else ever could be.” 

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with anticipation. His lips found yours, deep and urgent, the kiss filled with years of longing and unspoken love. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. 

As the kiss intensified, he guided you towards the bed. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, your hands trembling as you helped him undress. He slipped the nightgown from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet as you stood before him, vulnerability and desire intertwining. 

His eyes roamed over you, his breath hitching as he took you in. “You’re mine,” he spoke, his voice a possessive whisper. You found yourself in a whirlwind of desire as his lips traced a path down your neck. His hands explored your body with a hunger that matched your own. 

You pushed him gently onto the bed, and with a flicker of urgency, you straddled him as his hands roamed boldly. His fingers traced the contours of your back, grazing over sensitive spots that made you gasp with pleasure. 

His touch ignited sparks along your skin as his lips trailed down your chest. Then, with practiced ease and confidence, he rolled you onto your back. You arched into him, aching for more of the friction that threatened to drive you wild. 

With a growl of need, he positioned himself above you, his gaze locking with yours. Welcoming him eagerly, your bodies melded together in a dance as old as time itself. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body as you felt the sensation of him filling you. 

He moved with a primary urgency, each thrust pushing you closer. You dug your nails into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you surrendered to the pleasure that enveloped you both. 

Your moans filled the air, mingling with his ragged breaths. He leaned down, finding your lips in a hungry kiss that threatened to steal your breath away. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, pulling him closer as you matched his urgency. The pleasure was exquisite, a sensation only he knew how to cause. 

But as pressure built up within you, Bucky’s hand moved swiftly to cover your mouth. His eyes locked with yours in a desperate plea for silence, a reminder of the need for discretion in the confines of your apartment. However, that only heightened the thrill, adding a layer of forbidden excitement to your shared passion.

Melting into him, your moans stifled against his hand, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. And, you clung to each other as you rode the waves of ecstasy until they crashed over you in a tidal wave of release. Your bodies trembling, hearts racing as you basked in the moment. 

As you lay intertwined in the aftermath, your breathing slowly evened out. His hand fell from your mouth, tracing his fingers gently across your cheek. His eyes held adoration and reverence as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

~

The first light of dawn painted soft hues against your bedroom wall as you stirred in Bucky’s arms, his body warmth contrasting with the morning chill. Reluctantly, you both rose and dressed in comfortable silence. After a long, lingering kiss, he left your room, closing the door gently behind him. 

Just as he closed the door, another door opened, and Steve stepped out of his room, rubbing his eyes. Both men froze for a moment, their gazes locked in the quiet hallway. Steve’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of Bucky emerging from your room. His shirt rumpled slightly and his hair tousled. 

Without a word, Steve’s expression shifted to one of knowing acceptance, a silent acknowledgment passed between them. Bucky’s eyes filled with gratitude and resolve as he gave Steve a sheepish nod. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as Steve simply raised an eyebrow before turning toward the kitchen. 

The two men continued in companionable silence, unspoken words settling comfortably between them as freshly brewed coffee filled the air. 

---

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[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XIII

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

series masterlist

You think you might die from this heat. The ice bag that Coryo brought you only lasted so long, especially when you shared it with the covey, which cut its window of efficacy in half. Both of you trailed behind everyone on the way to the lake, besides for Maude Ivory who found a very comfortable spot on Coryo's back. You should have thought to buy her some new shoes before the several-hour hike, but you didn't think that would be of consequence.

"How is Sejanus?" You ask, making conversation as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You'd like to gauge if Coryo knew anything more about your mutual friend's habit of hanging around with the wrong people.

"He's... yeah. He's fine." Coryo sighs, adjusting his hold on Maude Ivory's legs around his waist as he steps over a tree root.

"You don't sound so sure." You laugh, tilting your head up at him.

The bruise on your cheek wasn't red anymore, now healing into a yellowish hue that Coryo could hardly tear his eyes away from. He wishes you were still in the habit of wearing makeup every day, then he wouldn't have to stare down the result of his failure every time he looked at you. He shakes his head. "Well, I'll tell you about it later."

You just nod, looking down at the ground in front of you to make sure you don't trip. Now it was your turn to wish that the two of you could talk about what's going on between you. Whatever Sejanus is up to with Billy Taupe reminded you that even though you're far away from the chains of the Capitol, you still weren't entirely free. Even if now it was just free of the prying ears of a little blonde girl who loved to talk. "If you could change one thing about your routine right now, what would it be?" You ask, looking up at him again and squinting at the sun as it breaks through the trees above you.

Coryo draws his head back for a moment, confusion washing over his features at the seemingly random question. "Uh, everything. Next question."

"Ah-ah," You shake your head, hair falling into your face which you quickly pull back again. "Only one thing."

"Okay, fine." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Um... not sure, honestly. Maybe I'd have more success trapping those damn Mockingjays." He grumbles, looking up into the treeline.

You laugh, rubbing over the mostly healed scratches on your arms. "Nothing yet, huh?" Up until the point that you forgave him, you had gone out every night for almost a week, having learned a better system for opening the traps that didn't result in them cutting up your arms with their claws. Not so much as a thank you from the birds that apparently could speak, until you had started to thank yourself every time you reached around the side of the traps to open the metal, just so they would echo it back to you. You knew it was crazy, but it had become a fun semblance of a normal routine.

"Not one. Hardly any Jabberjays either, we think someone was setting them free in the night, they were easier to trap at first." He replies, smiling at you despite his frustrations about it. He couldn't wait until they could catch enough for Dr. Kay so he could start shooting them instead. "Rebels, most likely."

"That's annoying." You laugh, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. "Why would they care about some birds?" It was a stupid question to pose, to poke holes in his only theory when it didn't already point back to you.

"They're hardly more than animals themselves." He grumbles, shrugging. "No, actually, I'd probably spend more time with you, if I could." He changes his answer and effectively, the topic as well. At this, Maude Ivory lifts her head from his shoulder.

"Are you guys in love?" She asks, turning her head so she can look at you now.

"Oh, no." Your cheeks burn as you laugh, shaking your head. "It's complicated big kid business, Maude Ivory."

"That's enough." Coryo chuckles nervously, spinning her on his hip and carefully putting her down. "Go bother the others."

The girl giggles, walking backward in front of you with her shoes in her hand. "It's why, I love you, you're as pure as the driven-" She starts to sing a song you were writing with Lucy Gray, knowingly taunting you, but you're quick to cut her off.

"Hey! Don't!" You laugh quickly, pretending to push her forward so she'll run along. "They've got some thin walls in that house..." You chuckle quietly, avoiding his gaze as you watch her run up ahead.

After a few moments of silence, Coryo speaks again. "What about you? What would you change?"

"Can I be uncreative and say the same thing as you?" You ask, cheeks still red.

"Sure." He nods slightly, a small smile on his face.

"Great, because those birds are starting to get on my nerves." You joke, bumping your shoulder against his arm.

He smiles, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hate you too."

"Oh, hush. You know I love you." You freeze up as soon as you say it, suddenly it holds a lot more weight to it than your typical friendly banter.

At that, Coryo drapes his arm over your shoulder with a satisfied smile, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Can you tell me about Sejanus, now?" You ask, head placed on Coryo's lap as you lay on the dock. You had been out of the water for a little while, now, utilizing the sun to dry your wet hair and skin.

He looks back up to the cabin, seeing Lucy Gray and the rest of the covey scattered and picking plants or lying in the grass. "Uh, he just keeps sneaking off, and I found a good bit of money in his locker, but he told me he was broke so... I don't know what he's up to."

You sigh. "I've seen him hanging around Billy Taupe a lot. They're a sketchy crowd in the nicest of terms."

"Well, he is district. It doesn't surprise me that he'd associate with them." Coryo explains, distracted in a weak attempt at braiding a small section of your hair.

"He's gonna get himself killed." You mutter, eyes closed to block out the sun. You couldn't tell Coriolanus about how you ran into Sejanus a couple of weeks ago, knowing he would ask questions about why you were out at that time too. It's easier to lie to Sejanus than to him.

"It's not our problem if we stay out of it." Coryo tries to ease your mind.

"We can't just stand by and watch, though. It'll eat my conscience alive if something were to happen to him."

Coriolanus looks down at you, watching your calm expression form into something resembling worry. He chews on the inside of his cheek and nods to himself. He would have to do something, if Sejanus ended up getting in some kind of trouble, the guilt of knowing without acting will kill you. "Okay. I'll figure something out. I'll get him to keep his distance." He promises.

Days had passed since that interaction, and Coriolanus is crippled by the fear that he made a horrible mistake. He got the full story from Sejanus, and it was worse than he pictured.

You liked Sejanus, at least you acted like it when he was around. Coriolanus could always see that the district-born boy meant something to you, even if it was unclear based on the way you spoke about him when he wasn't present. Him running off into the woods with a bunch of derelect rebels was far from a viable option, Coriolanus wouldn't have it. He couldn't risk your reaction knowing that he told you he would do something to intervene.

He needed to talk to you. You were the only one he could trust to tell about the Capitol-bound recording he sent off of Sejanus' confession, or the news that his family had been kicked out of their apartment back home. He wasn't even sure he wanted to tell you. Coryo had been fighting this internal battle for what felt like ages, so maybe he could just include the basics, leave out his actions, and let you lift some of the tensions from his shoulders by telling him it would be okay. That it would all be over soon, and that you're proud of him for passing his exam. He could get the two of you out of this dump by the end of next week, and he couldn't get you away fast enough.

Unfortunately for him, when he finally arrived at the Hob on his night off you were already on stage with the Covey. You were laughing, dancing and spinning, occasionally joining Maude Ivory on her hip drum while Lucy Gray sang. The crowd loved you, and you loved the attention. He'd be lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't love watching you so happy, but the timing was inconvenient at best.

Coryo found his usual spot against the wall, sitting down next to Sejanus. He wasn't about to let him out of his sight, not anymore.

"Give it up for our friends in the band!" He smiles at Maude Ivory's excessive spirit as she holds her arms out to encourage applause before her eyes lock on him. Her face lights up more, somehow, and he greets it with a nod.

She turns to you while music is slowly tuning out, and gives a slight tug on the bottom of your new dress. It had been scuffed up in your fight with Ash, but you had cleaned it up nicely- hardly a stitch was out of place.

You look down at the girl, who just gives a slight nod in the direction of the wall Coryo was sat against. "He's here, you gotta sing it now!" Maude Ivory says, loud enough so you could hear but not enough to be picked up by the mic behind her.

You look very briefly over at Coryo, shaking your head at her as your cheeks turn rosy. "He's never gonna hear it." You say, leaning down to her level. "Who even says its about him, huh?"

"You can't trick me, Sage." She giggles, pointing at your nose.

"C'mon, lets do it!" Lucy Gray chimes in encouragingly as you stand back up. "I'll play for you. All you gotta do is sing."

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head again. "No, I-"

"Now, welcome back for her second performance with us, Sage! She's gonna take us over for a minute here. I promise, y'all are in for a real treat." You're interrupted by Maude Ivory making the announcement for you. Internally you cuss, plastering on a nervous smile.

"It's beautiful, you gotta relax." Lucy Gray says in your ear, already adjusting her hold on her guitar. "If I can sing a breakup song to the whole country, you can sing a love song just to the folks in this room. C'mon." She smiles, nodding for you to take the mic as Maude Ivory bows you in.

You'd played this song a bunch back at the Covey's home after Lucy Gray caught you humming the abstract tune of a lullaby your mother used to sing to get you to sleep when you were little. You didn't remember a single word, but the melody was enough for her to recreate and embellish it into one of their songs, to which she insisted you help her write the words for.

Coryo is leaning forward, elbows rested on his knees as he watches you. From what he knew, you weren't much of a singer. The redness evenly spreading across your cheeks and nose in time with the intro music was evidence enough of that.

"Sing for us, sweetheart!" Someone from the crowd calls out, which is matched with whistles that force Coryo to sit up to try and get a look at who the hell is yelling at you. His jaw is seized until he hears your voice echoing through the large room, drawing his gaze back to you on the stage.

"I've taken some hits, so no wonder I'm wary. It's why I need you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."  You look over his way only briefly while you sing the first round of the chorus, trying not to let your voice catch from the nervousness still pumping through every inch of your body.

He knows it before you're finished, but the last word, the one you didn't let Maude Ivory get to on the way to the lake, makes his heart flip in his chest. The eye contact he made with you as you said his name was so heavy with everything you've ever wanted to say to one another but never had, and he completely swells with pride knowing that it was about him.

"Cold and clean, swirling over my skin..." The inclination, again, to shout to everyone that you were his girl was immense and overtaking. Just like the first time, but now he knew it for sure. He was positive."You cloak me, You soak right in, down to my heart."

By the time you render the final verse, his whole world has changed."It's why I trust you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."

I'm gonna marry her.

He's up as soon as the song is over, heading for the back of the stage as you take your bow. Your smile is wiped when you look up and he's no longer there, and neither is Sejanus. Worry pools in your insides as you scan the crowd, giving a rushed smile to Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory as you jump down. You hurry to the back of the stage, brow furrowed as you search for Coryo.

By some miracle, he's there. If you're not mistaken, he's got tears in his eyes as he strides up to you quickly, the stage lights leaking past the stage to illuminate him just enough. His pace and his intense expression only worry you more. "Is everything-" You ask frantically, only for your question to be disrupted by his actions.

Coryo takes a deep breath, and then, as soon as you're within reach, he cups your face in his hands and leans in. The world around you seems to fade as his lips meet yours in a passionate, long-awaited kiss.

Time stands still, and in that moment, everything falls into place. The worries that plagued him when he walked in completely dissolved as he felt your hair in between his fingers. When he finally pulls away, a small smile graces his face.

You're both breathing heavily as you stare at each other, and it's then that you realize he wasn't crying due to any kind of upset. He was crying because of you. With a smile so real that you could feel the sun on your back, even late at night in this dim building hundreds of miles from the comfort of your collective home.

"Coryo..." You say, smile fading as you regain perceptions of your real life.

"I know, and I have so much to tell you..." He grins, leaning down to kiss you again.

It was your turn to interrupt, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him in his tracks. Tracks you so desired to follow, wherever they may take you, but right now you had bigger concerns. "No, no it's... where is Sejanus?"

He pauses, and it's like the spell is broken as he straightens his posture, looking around as if Sejanus should be right there. "Uh... shit." He had completely forgotten about his friend as he fell under the trance of your voice, of the song you were singing to him.

You're quickly out from under his arms, walking back around the side of the stage to go look for your friend.

"Coryo-" You stop, and he's right on your heels as you turn back to him, pointing toward the back wall. "Go check the bar. Keep an eye out for Billy Taupe. Obviously. He's probably with him." You instruct and he nods to you quickly before beginning to push his way through all the drunk people in the crowd.

You try and scan the sea of faces, but you don't see Sejanus anywhere. The music the Covey is playing is loud, drowning out any hopes you had of being able to shout for the boy. You could follow Coryo in the search, but that would no doubt just waste time. You groan, pushing your hair back out of your face in frustration. You shouldn't have stopped Coryo from kissing you again, if Sejanus wants to be reckless you should just let him. The two of you already saved his life once, was that not enough for him?

You glance down the deserted hallway to your right, and then your feet are carrying you toward the back room in an instant. You turn the corner and push the sliding door open when you hear shouting coming from the other side. "What the fuck is going on?" You ask, eyes flitting between Sejanus, and the two other boys in the room, alongside a girl who who you vaguely recognize.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, turning back to you quickly.

"Y/N..." The girl mutters to herself, rolling the name around in her mind and on her tongue. You can see it in the way she's looking at you. You ignore it, eyes locked on your friend now.

"I told you to not get involved in things you shouldn't, didn't I? Didn't Coryo?" You scold him, gesturing to the door.

"It's not- I didn't know they were going to buy weapons! It's not what I wanted, they told me the money was only for supplies, that no one would get hurt!"

"These are supplies." Billy Taupe's friend, Spruce, replies.

"Why would you trust them!" You spit, pointing vaguely at the other people in the room.

"Listen, Princess-" Billy Taupe starts, a bitter taste to his tone just as the door slides open again. Coryo's frame is blocking your view of the boy in a second, tucking you carefully behind his back.

"Talk to me. Not her." He hisses, and you grab his arm. The feeling of his skin under your palms is comforting, warm, and tense in your grip. "What are you doing, guns, Sejanus?" He turns his attention to your classmate.

"Coriolanus, I didn't know this is what they would do, they lied to me-" Sejanus starts his pleads for help again on a separate set of ears.

Unsurprisingly, his response is almost identical to yours. "You thought they would be honest? What are you doing? There are peacekeepers right outside!"

"That's what I said." You mumble in exasperated agreement "Why did you even give them money at all?" You ask, hoping to get some answers.

"Sejanus wants to run off with these dimwits into the woods up north," Coryo explains to you.

"What?" You ask, shocked, looking past him at the boy you've known for years. The thought of never seeing him again pulls at your heartstrings in a way you're unfamiliar with. "You can't. Absolutely not."

"You're not my Ma, Y/N!" Sejanus spits.

"Wait, I know you." The girl cuts in, pointing at you. "You're that missing girl. From the Capitol. Y/N Y/L/N. My dad got a call about you!"

You freeze up at the accusation, biting your tongue as you look up at Coryo. A memory flashes in your mind, that's why you recognize her. She's the girl who Lucy Gray dropped a snake on in the reaping- the mayor's daughter. "Huh?" You ask, trying to look as confused as possible.

"Don't play dumb, we're past that." She scoffs and you just shake your head.

"Genuinely, don't know what you're talking about." You relax your posture, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well," She sighs, shrugging sarcastically. "I'll go tell my dad where you are. Your family sure is missin' you..." She starts to take a few steps before the back exit and you clench your jaw at her smug smile. You want to rip the hair out of her head and throw her body in the lake to rot.

"Mayfair, you can't leave." Billy Taupe scolds her, grabbing her arm which she quickly yanks away.

"This is ridiculous and confusing, and you act like I don't see the way you still look at Lucy Gray! Why don't you take her with you instead, huh?"

"She is coming, isn't she?" Spruce asks, seeming just as confused as you in a completely opposite way.

"You were bringing Lucy Gray?!" Mayfair shouts, shaking her head at her (now presumably) ex-boyfriend.

"She said she wanted to come!" Billy Taupe defends and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Okay, so clearly there's some major communication issues in this gang of misfits you've found, Sejanus, so let's just go and leave them to it. It won't benefit you to be stuck in the wilderness with a bunch of starving idiots who will kill each other in a week if they get too lazy to hunt." You plead with him and he shakes his head at you.

"Y/N, wait-" Coryo says, looking back at you only briefly.

"Yeah, Capitol Princess is right. I'm out." Mayfair says, raising her hands in defeat and turning to leave. "You'll all hang for this!"

"This power trip you have about your father being the mayor pales in comparison to what my family has. You'll all be dead by the morning if you say a word." You tell her, voice calm as she freezes, turning to look back at you.

"She's all talk, she won't tell anyone." Billy Taupe tries to defend her from the tensions rising in the room. You were concerned about getting sent home, of course, but if she told about their plans to run, everyone in the room would be executed come the morning light.

"Oh, you think I'm scared of you, Sage? You think I won't tell? Ask Lucy Gray." She's right, Lucy Gray had told you about how this girl was responsible for the reaping being rigged to result in Lucy Gray's death in the games. What they never accounted for was her strength, her intelligence, and her having Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Y/L/N as mentors.

And how Lucy Gray became a victor, known initially to most of the Capitol for her similarities to you. Only, Lucy Gray wasn't bat shit crazy.

Coryo's mind is reeling at the threat made to you as the girl starts to walk away. Within a second, before you can even make a move to tackle her, he's reaching onto the table and grabbing one of the guns. He lines up quickly and squeezes the trigger, letting the bullet fly square into the center of the girl's back. His training had paid off sooner than he thought. Coriolanus wasn't about to have you caught, sent back to a home much worse than that safety hazard at the edge of the Seam where you're currently staying.

"Mayfair!" Billy Taupe is quickly at the girls side, but she's already dead. Sejanus is shaking, and you are fighting back the smile that threatens to form on your lips despite the stress of the moment. "What have you done?" He screams at your friend.

"She was gonna get us all killed!" You defend. "You should be thanking him! Trust me, she was nothing special."

"You've got something comin', Capitol boy." He says, shaking his head as he looks up at the two of you, hatred filling his eyes. "You think you're gonna blame me for this? That you'll never get caught?"

You resist the urge to just shrug, agreeing that no, probably not. Undeniably, your best move would be to blame him. "He was defending all of us, can you not get that through your thick skull?" You settle on, keeping your footing as level as possible as Coryo pulls you back closer to his side again.

"If I swing, for this you will with me!" He screams in anger, back on his feet and moving quickly towards you as Coryo shoves you back behind him, lining up again. He didn't have to shoot, though, because Spruce does. The boy's body flings into the wall to the left of you from the force of the impact, slumping against the floor.

Your heart is pounding as you look between your two friends. "Sejanus, are you alright?" You ask, trying to approach him as Coryo starts shouting orders at Spruce to get rid of the guns.

"Hey, he's fine." Coryo grabs your arm, pulling you close to him to look at you. "I'm gonna handle this. Get back out there and sing, play the violin, just do something, okay?"

You glance back at Sejanus again, who is clearly panicking so bad he looks like he might faint. "No, I'm not leaving you, and Sejanus-"

"Sejanus is fine." Coryo says again sternly, shaking your shoulders now as he looks into your eyes. "Go back out there. I will handle this. I'll find you soon." He promises, gently pushing you in the way of the door. "Go. Now."

You swallow the anxiety sitting uncomfortably in the back of your throat and nod, glancing only briefly at your friends before you leave, closing the door quickly behind you.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[coleslawleviathan]

okay so. i challenged myself to try and draw some snakes and try to capture the features i want to stand out for them. i wanted to see if i could make them all look distinct but where its obvious they look extremely similar.

heres the main lineup but i want to get into design elements for them as well as some personal headcanons.

FIRST! bibo.

okay so. i'm going to toot my own horn here. i think his beard looks so fire and i did a good job. i imagine this design is around the portable ops era... not much else to say because most of the interesting stuff (at least to me) comes from the differences the others have from him.

V!!! I LOVE YOU V!!!!!!!!!!

for venom snake, i made him look like big boss but Something's Off. in the game people often (notably huey and the boss' ai) don't recognize him as big boss for a few seconds. an imperfect replica because you cannot get that close with plastic surgery. i made the fat distribution on his neck a bit different from bibo's because i imagine the way that the human body configures itself is hard to change. if you noticed the little snake-tongue-shaped-hair-doohickeys, he is the only one with a slightly different shape. it's a genetic thing, you wouldn't get it. just thought that was silly. his hair texture is different, too. can u tell i like him a lot. also, my favorite detail might be his different nose shape. they never got bibo's nose right i guess. in mgsv, he actually has a bit of a downturned nose, and i honestly don't think i captured that enough.

TIME FOR MY FAVORITE BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE. HOLDER OF MY GENDER ENVY. solid snake :3

SNAVID! the most obvious difference here is his nose. he broke it as a kid lol. i love headcanons. there's not as much to say about him as with venom, but i can say that he is incredibly handsome and i like him. i think he is cute. was he free yesterday? if so i would like to have dinner yesterday with him yesterday. well... i will say that out of this specific lineup i think he looks the most like good old dad. which is awful and i feel bad for him.

FINALLY: LIQUID!!!!!!!

i gave him his canonical sharp nose and high cheekbones! i based a lot of his features off how he looked as a kid so he really has little shit vibes about him. he also has thinner eyebrows, and i headcanon that he does them himself lol. he has less sideburny sideburns than his brother. his eyelids are also smaller. he also does look kinda like kaz so its plausible that he tricked dave! yippee! i also like drawing his hair. its such a great hairstyle. it reminds me of a lion's mane.

N E WAYS... i hope you enjoyed me rambling about giving these goobers a more realistic design for future reference. i like talking about this kind of stuff. life is so much better without same face syndrome.

[pedgito]

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[spectr3inl0ve]

Do you think secretly married Price carries his ring with him at all times? Or is he too paranoid?

What if some military guy tries to hit on her but he obviously can’t blow his cover and risk her safety 💜

AAAAAAA

im gonna say that price does not carry his ring w him at all times bc he doesnt want everyone to know that hes married. like he does wear it when hes not on deployment, but he doesnt flaunt it ifykwim?? i wouldnt say hes paranoid, but rather a "better to be safe than sorry" kinda guy (trust me on this i promise hes not paranoid 😭🙏🙏). i think that john keeps his ring either safe at home or in its respective box hidden in a draw of his desk in his office!!

ok so assuming that on base sergeant!reader is overseeing recruit training alongside price, and while the drill sergeant is distracted a charming recruit tries to talk to you. he makes conversation with you first, exchanging names and whatnot, before doing the same to price out of politeness - but its clear hes only interested in you. i think that john would honestly find it amusing at first when the next day that same recruit is talking to you near the barracks, trying to sweet talk his way into taking you out to dinner on his next day off. smiling, u catch johns eye from behind the recruit, changes the subject because he is genuinely a nice, funny guy who youd rather just be friends with. but when the recruit continues on insisting, your somehow polite rejections falling on deaf ears, price feels the need to step in.

your husband claps the recruit on the back, "something happening here?" his eyes flicker from his to yours. when you dont say anything, the now slightly embarrassed recruit cle3ars his throat, "uhh, no sir.". john only smiles (that quokka smile ofc), "then you best be on your way then," removing his hand from the back of the now reddened soldier. once he leaves, you exhale a breath you didnt know you had taken, "wow, my lord and saviour," you chuckle, "i think you handled that well, sarge." he says, smiling still.

however if the recruit was a complete asshole, john would definitely and immediately pull rank on him, would probably make him drop and give him 700 pushups.

tags: @witchthewriter

[sissylittlefeather]

Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 1

A/N: Here it is! First chapter of the new series featuring Elvis and Dove Morningstar! This one begins in 1957 and will go on for a looooong time. I hope you all enjoy the fluff! It makes my heart so happy.

Warnings: none. Just cotton candy sweetness for these two. I guess there's some kissing.

Word count: ~2.5k

Dove looks in the mirror, sitting in front of the vanity in the tiny dressing room behind the stage. She blots her lipstick one more time and smooths her black hair into its low bun. Her dark eyes are perfectly rimmed by feathery black lashes. She'd be beautiful if it weren't for the color of her skin: two shades too dark to be acceptable in mainstream culture and two shades too light to fit into the lively subculture she attempts to surround herself with. But no matter where she goes, she's an outsider.

Her name gives her away. Morningstar. It's hard to deny her Native heritage with a name like that. To their credit, her parents tried to give her a chance by naming her Eleanor, a good white name, but it didn't stick. As soon as she had a voice, her cousins started calling her Dove and she's never gotten away from it. And Eleanor Morningstar doesn't look any better on a billing than Dove Morningstar. She's considered changing her name, but she knows it would break her daddy's heart. It's true he's back in Oklahoma and would probably never know, but it's ingrained in her to respect him, so she does.

But if her career doesn't pick up soon, she'll have to change it. Maybe to something that sounds Mexican or Italian.

"Dove, you're up. Come on." She sighs and stands up, smoothing the black skirt. The manager of the club holds open the door for her to walk onto the stage.

She makes her way up to the mic and begins her set, her voice soft and sensuous. There's a reason they call her Dove. More than that, she sways her hips, winding them to the rhythm as she sings. This is the other reason she has to play here and not on big stages. She just can't seem to stand still when she sings. Her wide skirt is an attempt to hide it, but it's impossible to ignore. Between the way she moves and the way she holds her microphone, she's dripping sex the second she walks on stage. Her talent is undeniable, but the sizzle of her performance makes people uncomfortable. Even here, she's an outsider, and her style is not accepted. The applause is sparse and most people ignore her, paying more attention to their drinks or their dates.

But tonight, she's caught someone's attention. He hasn't noticed his date or his drink since she started singing. He's actually not sure he's remembered to breathe since he saw her. It's like she's put a spell on him with her cooing and dancing and he's powerless to stop it.

She's not even his type, but something about her draws him in like the proverbial moth to a flame. He's pretty sure she'd set him on fire, but he's not sure he cares. As soon as she finishes singing, she opens her eyes and bows slightly. A few people clap and she scans the audience with a nervous smile. She turns to walk off the stage and he immediately stands up.

"Elvis, where are you going?" His date pouts and pulls on his hand.

"I'll be right back, baby." He says it with no intention of returning to her, pulling his hand back and making his way across the club to the manager, Joe. He's been here many times before, so he knows Joe, but she's new, so he wants to gather some information before he finds her.

"Hey, Joe, who was that?"

"On stage?"

"Yeah."

"That was Dove Morningstar." Elvis raises his eyebrows.

"Thats a helluva name."

"I know. She's a helluva gal. Wish there was a place for her."

"What do you mean?"

"You saw her. Where do you think she can sing like that? Not here. And sure as hell not at the Opry."

"Not here?"

"Tonight was proof. Folks don't like it. She's just ahead of her time, I think." Elvis nods.

"Where can I find her?"

"She oughtta be coming out from backstage any minute. Why? You wanna meet her?" Joe gets a knowing glint in his eye and Elvis damn near blushes.

"If it ain't too much trouble."

"Stay here. I'll get her." He walks away as Elvis shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Why does meeting her make his stomach flip flop like this? He's Elvis Presley and it's 1957. He might be the most desirable and eligible bachelor on the planet. But this girl, this Dove Morningstar, has him completely disarmed. He feels Joe tap on his arm and he turns to face her, trying to remind himself to breathe.

"Dove, this is Elvis Presley. Elvis, this is Dove Morningstar." There's a moment of silence between them. She can't believe she's standing this close to Elvis Presley and he seems to have forgotten that that's him. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Presley? Elvis? What should I call you?" She laughs nervously. Her laugh makes his heart skip a few beats. Joe nudges him and he remembers he's supposed to speak now.

"Oh! Elvis is fine." She laughs again and he has to hold in a groan. What is this girl doing to him?

"I love your music. I wish I'd known you would be here. I'd love to get you to sign something for me, but I don't have anything with me."

"You want my autograph?"

"Yeah... is that...? I'm sorry. You're just here to relax and I'm asking you for an autograph."

"No, honey, it's okay. I just... I feel like I should be asking for yours."

"Mine?!"

"Your set was incredible." She looks up at him wide-eyed.

"You're bluffing."

"No, I'm still reeling from it. You were great." A blush rises in her cheeks.

"Thank you... I think you're the only one who liked it." She whispers the last part. They stand and stare at each other again. Joe looks between them and rolls his eyes.

"Maybe you want to get her a drink and take her somewhere to talk?" That seems to jar Elvis back to reality.

"Yes! Can I get you something?"

"Just a Pepsi please." He smiles softly, orders two Pepsis from the bartender, holding them in one hand, and then puts his other hand on her lower back to lead her through the crowd. The contact has them both shivering. He maneuvers her to a door that opens to a staircase. She looks at him suspiciously.

"Where does this go?"

"It's a surprise. Do you trust me?" She thinks for a second, looking up into his face.

"Yes." He smiles again and leads her up the stairs. At the top, he pushes open the door to the warm night air. They're on the roof looking out over Beale Street. "Oh, wow."

He watches her as she takes in the view. She's beautiful, made even more radiant by the night sky and her delight. Something inside him has him wanting to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that. He walks to a bench and sits down, patting the seat beside him. She plops down next to him and he puts his arm on the bench behind her. Without thinking, she leans back into him, her head finding his shoulder easily.

"This is really neat. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it."

"You really like my music?" She asks tentatively.

"I really do. Your voice is hypnotic and the way you move... You really like mine?"

"Oh yes!" She sits up to turn and look at him. "You're incredible! I'm pretty sure I have every record you've ever released..."

She trails off as he puts his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek.

His heart is racing as he touches her. He has no idea what he's doing but something about it just feels right. He's dying to kiss her, but they just met.

"I sound like a crazy person don't I? Telling you I have all your records." He laughs and pulls his hand back.

"Nah, I just wish I could buy some a' yours."

"I don't have any."

"That's a damn shame."

"Elvis?" Her eyes flick between his nervously.

"Yeah, Dove?" He sits up and leans forward a little.

"Would you kiss me? I know you kiss your fans sometimes and I just... well... I'd like you to be my first kiss." Elvis has to work to breathe normally. The thought of kissing her is intoxicating.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Never mind. It's silly." She stands up and walks over to a railing. He follows her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"No, no it's not. And I'm not sayin' no." He looks down at her and she turns to look up into his face.

"You're not?" He swallows hard. He's kissed a hundred girls. Why is the thought of kissing this one making his whole body tingle?

"But I don't wanna kiss ya like a fan. Dovey, when I kiss you, I wanna mean it." She almost swoons with his nickname for her. He cups her chin in his hand and she just about melts right there on the rooftop. He's so much more in person than she expected. Sure, he's cute, cuter even than the pictures she has of him, but she never dreamed he would be so gentle, so warm, so sweet. If he's not careful, he'll have her head over heels by the end of the night.

"I think I'd like that a lot."

"You're pretty incredible, you know that?" She smiles.

"You barely know me."

"I feel like I do. Is that crazy?" He drags his thumb across her bottom lip. Everything inside him is screaming at him to kiss her.

"No. I feel it too." She whispers again, her eyes flicking down to his lips. He can't help it anymore. He starts to lean in slowly, so painfully slowly, trying to control himself. What he really wants is to dramatically sweep her into his arms and make her his right there on the rooftop, but that would be way too much. He wouldn't even know where to begin with that. So instead, he hovers above her lips for a second and then presses his mouth to hers so very gently.

She's about to lose it. The kiss is so tender it makes her want to cry, but there's something in it that rushes through her whole body. Her heart races and her hands tremble and she's overcome with the desire to touch him. She holds back, but the need is there and it's strong.

He goes to pull out of the kiss but he's not ready yet. He needs more, so he changes the angle and kisses her again, this time with a little more passion. Still a closed-mouth kiss, but he presses a little harder against her lips. Almost without his control, his shaking hands find her hips and pull her body in close to his. When he backs away again, she throws her arms around him and pulls him back down to kissing her. This time, he lets his lips part hers and he dips his tongue in carefully. When she doesn't resist, he deepens the kiss pulling her body flush against his and sliding his tongue in to explore her mouth fully.

She has no idea what she's doing, but it feels good and he tastes sweet and oh the ecstasy of pressing up against him is delicious. She could let him kiss her like this all night. The thought occurs to her that he might try and obviously she's never done that before but she might be willing to do it with him.

Every fiber of his being is invested in kissing her and the thought of stopping seems almost impossible. Still, he can feel his body reacting to her closeness and he knows that if this keeps up he may not be able to stop himself. It would be his first time and there's a big part of him that would be okay with it being her, but not yet. So he comes up for air and presses his forehead to hers.

"We need to slow down. I don't want to take this further than we want it to go tonight." She nods.

"I've never..."

"Me neither." She's a little surprised, but it makes him even sweeter in her eyes. "We should wait."

"Yes." She says it breathlessly, noticing how he says wait like it's going to happen for them, just not yet.

"Here. C'mere. Let's sit on the bench and talk for a bit." They go back to the bench and she settles on his shoulder again with his arm around her. He picks up her hand and kisses her fingers. "Where did you come from?"

"Oklahoma. My people are Seminole, but my father moved us away from our land. My parents live in Tulsa and I'm the oldest of five. I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this boring-"

"I want to know you. Keep talking." She looks up at him and he kisses her gently. There's something about her that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips off of her for too long.

She goes back to telling him about her family and how she ended up in Memphis chasing her music career. He listens attentively and asks questions and kisses her periodically. Eventually, it's his turn and he tells her about growing up in Mississippi, moving here, his parents, and everything else.

They don't even realize how much time passes until the sky begins to lighten and the sun peeks over the horizon. When it does, it finds them kissing again, her legs thrown over his lap, his hand on her knee. His body is weak with wanting to slide it further up her thigh, but he doesn't, praying she can't feel him where his hardness is pressing against his pants. He's never wanted a girl the way he wants her. And it's not just a physical desire. His soul is desperate to connect with her and keep her close. Her presence comforts him and if he didn't know any better he'd swear this is what it feels like to be in love.

She's the one who notices the sunrise, but she doesn't want the night to end.

"Elvis, the sun is coming up." She whispers against his lips. He turns and looks to the horizon.

"I'll be damned. We were up here all night." She laughs her little bird-like laugh and his heart swells.

"I don't want this to be over." She pouts a little. He pushes a piece of her hair back behind her ear and gently caresses her cheek.

"Me neither."

"Will I ever see you again?" He smiles and kisses her softly.

"Honey, I've been looking for you my whole life. You'll never get rid of me now." A warm smile spreads across her face.

"So it's not over? Even when we leave here?"

"Dovey, I think this is just the beginning for us."

He kisses her again as the sun rises on them. And he's right. This is only the beginning.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb

[webslingingslasher]

tw: depression

hey! i was wondering, how would peter react or take care of reader with depression? can be either nerdy or frat peter or any peter rly :)

sorry i am very much kinda really going thru it rn 😞

felt that. depression is fucking brutal, anon. i'm here for you and i hope you're taking care of yourself for now.

--

you don't move when your window opens. you haven't moved for hours, you couldn't draw up enough energy to turn or eat, or breathe. the wall in front of you hasn't changed, it's been a blank slate of emptiness. just like the pit inside you.

'i know you're not sleeping.' it's teasing, your heart doesn't have it in you to perk up. you don't feel excited peter showed up, nothing could top the numbness that's burrowed its way into your chest and mind.

'you haven't texted me back all day, i was about to send a smoke signal.' your bones feel sharp, the idea of rolling over to face him stings, you think you'll shatter into a million pieces. you have nothing left to give, even talking seems exhausting.

'baby?' peter knows somethings wrong, he thinks he knows what's wrong. you had a good stretch, it had been months before the depression caught up and sent you bedrotting.

peter can't imagine how it feels for you, but for him, watching you go through this, kills him inside.

your mattress sinks, you close your eyes when peter reaches out for you, his hand on your skin is the most warmth you felt all day. it's peter; your rock, your safety net, your protector.

you think it's the first time you've talked all day. you had a permanent lump in your throat and you knew just by opening your mouth the tears would start.

but it's okay, because peter is here.

'i'm really sad today.' it's all it takes, your shoulders shake with your sobs, how could you feel everything and nothing all at once? peter's soft whispers have you curling into yourself. you don't deserve him, he doesn't deserve this.

'oh, honey.' it's full of love, his nose brushes your shoulder like a puppy asking to be pet. 'wanna give me a hug?' your voice wavers on your answer, it's raw and scratchy, begging to be hydrated, you don't think you've even had water today.

'yes, please.' your cheeks feel sticky but peter's holding you tightly, yet softly, it's like he's trying to hold you together. it's working. 'i'm sorry.' you feel bad. you should be more for him.

'don't be. i want to be here for you, and when you can only give twenty percent, i've got the other eighty. i love you. always and forever. no matter what.'

he needs to add the end, he needs to because he knows how it weighs down in your mind. how you've told him over and over it's unfair he has to put up with this and how he doesn't deserve what you bring to the table.

peter told you he's got a big fucking table and it's got more than enough room for your "mess." you don't say the silent part out loud anymore but he knows you still think it. peter would never admit it to you, but sometimes he really hates your brain and the way it thinks about yourself when your depression sets in.

it's selfish, you hate it about yourself but you need a reason to keep going.

'can you tell me how sad you would be if i died?' to anyone else it would sound morbid, to peter it means you're feeling better. peter slightly rocks you in his lap, he hums like he needs to think.

'you think you're depressed? just you wait, i'll make this look estatic.' a smile teases, he's determined to get you laughing. 'i mean it. i'd be on my knees, tears and snot all over my face, holding your hand at your funeral. i'd probably throw myself down the hole with you.'

it works, it's minuscule but you gave him a real smile and a tiny laugh. it's because you're picturing the teary-snotted face he'd be sporting and he's totally okay with that.

peter presses kisses over your hairline, he's speaking from the heart and you can feel it.

'because if you're not living, i wouldn't have a reason to either.' 

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (3)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Jade and Reader are finally properly interacting! For the whole chapter, too. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

The night breeze sweeps over your skin when you step outside Azul’s mansion. The moon illuminates the world tonight, and you can easily see Jade’s car pull up to the driveway. He parks it perfectly, just like everything else he does, and comes to the front door with a smile.

“Looks like everything went well.”

He walks up the steps leading to the door, stopping just one step below you. Even then, his tall figure ensures he’s slightly above eye level. He zeroes in on something on your cheek.

“Indeed,” he says, raising a hand. His bare thumb swipes gently over your cheekbone. “Excuse me. You had something on your face.”

His thumb leaves your face with a hint of something red. Barry Moore’s blood. You must’ve stood too close while Floyd was having his fun.

“Thanks,” you say dismissively.

“No need to thank me. Were you the one who personally took care of the interrogation?”

He’s talking about the physical coercion. The violence. You shake your head.

“Floyd’s doing it right now.”

He lowers his eyes, rubbing the smidge of blood between his thumb and forefinger. The thoughtful pace of the action makes you wonder if he is satisfied with something.

“That’s good to hear.”

“Floyd said the opposite. He said he wanted me to draw blood.”

“Rest assured that he is more than happy to do it instead.” He reaches out for your hand. His bare fingers handle yours like they are made of porcelain. He studies them for the few seconds you allow before pulling your hand back. “You should never have to lift a finger. Just keep making others do your dirty work. There is no need for you to dirty your hands with the blood of filth.”

That implies there are things which are worthy for you to personally dirty your hands with. You choose not to think about it. Jade’s ambiguous wording is purposeful, a habit partially caused by his enjoyment of your tendency to overthink.

You look for a way to change the topic. “I see you’ve made sure to leave your gloves at her place.”

An important plot point that ensures they meet again. A trivial accessory that can easily be replaced, which (Y/N) washes and returns to him when she runs into him again. She will take great care in handwashing the white fabric, and she will keep it with her until she finds their owner. It’s an item created for the story. Because she is sweet, because she is kind, because she is the perfect person.

“Are you upset?” Jade’s eyes curve slightly in amusement. His fingers linger by your jaw. Not quite touching you, yet refusing to pull away. “You are stating an observation which does not need to be said. It feels as though you are searching for something to say.”

“No.” You push his hand away, your bare skin touching briefly. The body temperature of merfolk is naturally lower than humans, and on this warm summer night, he stays as cool as ever against your warm palm. “Maybe you’re just not that good at talking.”

He chuckles, a low timbre that slides through the air like silk. “I will work to meet your expectations, then.”

“The conversation better not be this stilted when you’re talking to (Y/N).”

“I assure you it is not.”

“Of course.” You turn to the door, its frosted windows casting a warm glow over your face from the lights inside. “She’s basically destined to be your partner, so there’s no way you wouldn’t get along.”

“We get along.”

“I know, that’s what I just said.”

“That is not what I meant.” His hand settles on the doorknob before yours. With his chest to your back and one arm reaching around your left side, you are suddenly reminded of how large he is. Towering over you, his body surrounds you on all sides except the front, an enveloping embrace where no parts of you touch. “I was referring to you and I. Ah, unless—” his voice suddenly drips with self-pity and his arm falls away “—I was the only one who felt that way about my dear friend?”

You stare at him. A few seconds pass, and you dissolve into quiet laughter. “Right, right. Feel more sorry for yourself, maybe you’ll start crying.”

“Would you like to see it?” Jade leans into your peripheral vision, a veiled grin tugging at his lips. “I can certainly try. It would come at a price.”

“I’m not that interested, then.” You push open the door. “Let’s go. Azul’s waiting for you to use your Signature Spell on the captive.”

“Ah, the captive.” He follows you into the house. In the sudden flood of light, he seems less intense, more interested in fading into obscurity to any onlookers. Azul’s home has a few trusted employees to keep it spotless. But no matter how trusted they are, Jade dislikes being perceived unless it amuses him. He manages to do it even while being six feet tall. “Where is he being held?”

“In a dingy room in the basement, tied to a chair with a single light overhead.”

Jade chuckles into his hand. “Azul has always had a flair for dramatics.”

“I think even the kidnapping was a bit clichéd. We should’ve just had you use your Signature Spell on him after you beat him up in the alley.”

“It wasn’t mentioned in the story. And I know how much you love to follow the story to the letter.” You don’t need to turn around to know that he has a smarmy smile on his face. “After all, you asked me to lead on your good friend just to stay true to it.”

He is prodding you to observe your reaction. To see if you will get angry, or pensive, or hesitant. You look straight ahead and start descending into the basement.

“My friendship with her or your parents’ life. It’s a pretty clear choice.”

“I am sure they will be happy to hear that once they awaken.”

A pause. The words hang on the tip of your tongue. They are hard to swallow, but also hard to spit out. The latter becomes easier when you don’t think about it.

“Who’s to say? You might end up falling for her eventually.” Every step you take down the stairs feels heavy. “So far, everything in the story has come true. So maybe you really will become madly in love with her.”

Jade’s silence seems to weigh down your steps more than whatever feelings are on your mind. You wonder what expression he has on his face, but you don’t want to turn around—whether it’s for your pride or for dread of seeing something you don’t want to see, you aren’t sure.

“Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

He’s dodging the topic. You hate when he’s like this. He doesn’t want to give a straight answer, so he gives a tangentially related statement or question that can be interpreted to be one. Something that gives a vague answer, but can shield him with deniability when confronted. Even so, his question is not one that can easily be ignored, so it’s hard to stick to your original train of thought.

“I don’t know. It could be a prophecy of sorts. It could be someone from the future writing down what they know happened in the past. It could even be something like a magic pen that will turn anything written with it into reality. But powers like those are, well, powerful, and not easy to find. I don’t understand why it would be used on a silly, badly written love story like that.”

“Could it be that you’re jealous?”

You furrow your brows and spin around to give him a withering glare. His smile is the same as always, but you think it reminds you of when a cat toys with a mouse.

“Don’t smile like that. It’s unpleasant.”

“I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.” He won’t. You’ve already resigned yourself to that.

“Whatever. Besides, what part of anything I just said makes you think I’m jealous?”

“It isn’t what you just said.” Your shoes clack against the floor of the basement, followed by the quiet taps of his footsteps. “You have seemed rather . . . Restless since the story started.”

“There’s a lot to think about.”

“Am I one of those things?”

“You’re the male lead. You’re one of the major things I think about.”

“I see.”

You take a glance behind you again. His smile seems less predatory now, more pleased. Is he looking for attention? Right after you internally commented on his tendency of fading into the background, too.

The truth is not something like jealousy. Or maybe it is, but in a different way than what Jade is insinuating. Something feels missing now that you know you will not talk to (Y/N) again, at least until the story ends. The story takes place from her perspective, and since it never mentions Friend A after the inciting incident, you cannot appear before her for the duration of the plot. You cannot talk to her about the sweets you ate or the cafés you’ve found. You cannot sit in her apartment and talk about nothing in particular. It’s true that you will be very busy for the next while, but you still need to get used to the sudden absence of a good friend even while she is within reach.

You can deal with it, though. Over the years of working with the mafia, you have lost your fair share of friends. At least you know you can still talk to (Y/N) when she gets her happily ever after.

[your-ne1ghbor]

Asha's Animal Side Kick

Now presenting...

the one...

the only...

BONSAI !!!!!!!!!

It was either between a possum, ferret, or a great eared nightjar/type of bird, but either way, I had to go with the possum.

I liked the light brown possum a lot personally since I thought it was really cute yk??

It was also based off of this possum:

OKOK, you may be wondering why I changed Valentino, or Bonsai into a possum.

There are 2 reasons:

Numero Uno:

VALENTINO IS FUCKING UGLY

I think my friend @sewerpalette said it best here:

Nothing can convince me otherwise. His design is just SO ugly to look at. It is not pleasing.

And it doesn't help that I wanna punch his stupid fucking face like it is so punch-able

OKAY SURE, the concept versions of Valentino is cute...but ever but I didn't like how I drew goats in my style. It could be just that I'm not good at drawing them, but I also didn't like my color pallet I did for him, which was a lot like what Bonsai has color pallet wise, and it fitted Bonsai more than Valentino.

Numero Dos:

ESMERALDA HAS A GOAT SIDE KICK.

OR BETTER YET, WE HAVE ALREADY SEEN IT.

It is basically a repeat of what we have already seen, which I didn't like.

Just because you aged down a goat does not make it ORIGINAL.

Its okay to have Asha have a pet goat in the other rewrites though I don't MIND AT ALL. ITS YOUR AU U DO WHAT EVER, IM JUST MAINLY TALKING ABOUT MY ICK WITH THE MAIN FILM. IT JUST REMINDS ME OF SOMETHING ELSE.

What I'm trying to say is that Valentino feels like a refrence to Huntch Back of Notre Dom, which this movie has a thing with adding stuck out refrences instead of making it subtle. I mean I know it was a 100 year aniversary, just make it more subtle though so people can rewatch it and find refrences they didn't notice first time watching.

Anyways....

Some fun Facts about Bonsai:

Bonsai is actually a little dwarf, and the runt of his family. Asha adopted him when she found out Amaya told Charo (Charo is a lynx btw) to get rid of them all since she thought they were rats (even though they are fucking HUGE) (PLUS IT IS TO EMPATHESE ON THE FACT THAT THEY ARE MISTAKEN FOR RODENTS WHEN THEY AREN'T, THEY ARE APART OF THE MARSUPIALS FAMILY AND THEY GET RID OF RODENTS/EAT THEM)😭

(I might actually make him slightly bigger than how I drew Bonsai, but who knows yk?)

So Asha took the responsibility of taking care of the little Possum, since she didn't want the possum to grow up alone, and so that she can have some company.

IT TOOK A LONG WHILE for Bonsai to warm up and trust Asha, but in the end, he saw her good nature and swore to protect Asha like how Asha protected him from getting eaten from Charo. Which is why he dislikes Star Boy A LOT (mainly because he doesn't trust how this creature can literally transform into anything and doesn't want him to end up being something like Charo 😭)

He is just a little guy that wants to make sure his friend doesn't get hurt by a celestial force.

This is basically how I imagine how they both would meet:

(Just wait till he finds out Asha likes him. He is going to be so judgemental)

To get this part out of the way, if I end up having Bonsai speak, it would sound like a child, since I DREADED when the goat started...TALKING LIKE A GROWN ASS MAN LIKE NO PLEASE NO. And it would be more adorable yk?? :3

Lastly, here is the first doodle I did of him.

(JUST IMAGINE HIM TALKING LIKE A CRAZY 7 YEAR OLD LIKE THAT WOULD BE SO FUNNY)

@oh-shtars @annymation @signed-sapphire @chillwildwave @spectator-zee @uva124 @rascalentertainments @tumblingdownthefoxden

I might also go with a different color pallet for Bonsai but idk yet

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

For you, @phoebepheebsphibs ~

Raph barges through the fifth lab door of the day. It’s sickening that this place has so many areas filled with experimented on animals. The sweetest, most innocent ones he could think of turned into violent, bloodthirsty monsters.

And Mikey was trapped here somewhere with them.

He runs past several cages. Claws and arms poke out from them, attempting to draw his blood. He’d like to help them, but there’s not much he could do, and Mikey takes priority above all else.

Calling out for his brother doesn’t garner much response. He probably wouldn’t be able to hear him over all the sounds each mutated animal is making.

Roars.

Growls.

Yowling.

……Whimpering?

He stops in front of a cage, seeing something cowering in the corner. It was too dark to see it in there.

Raph thinks that this must be an animal they haven’t mutated yet. Maybe it would be alright to help just this one.

He breaks the lock off and carefully opens the cage. The whimpering stops and suddenly he’s lunged at. Raph barely has any time to react or even scream from how fast it moves.

A squeal of fear escapes from his mouth. Luckily, his kindness isn’t rewarded with a mauling. The animal clambers onto his shoulder and perches on top of the back of his shell.

There’s no opportunity for him to even see it.

He’s guessing it’s friendly, though? It hasn’t spilled any of his blood yet. Raph sighs. The place it’s taking is Mikey’s.

“Alright, you can stay up there, but I need to go find my brother.”

The animal lets out a confused noise.

Raph holds onto it like he always does with his brothers when they’re hitching a ride on his shell and begins walking.

“His name is Mikey. He’s got spots and the biggest smile you’ll ever see. Mikey’s also super talented. Kid can bake, draw, and dance better than anyone.”

The animal squeezes him slightly. Raph can feel it wagging a tail. He wonders why it would get excited about what he’s saying but he knows he’d probably never get an answer.

“I love him. A lot. I’d do anything for him. We used to be even closer, but….older brothers aren’t so impressive to younger ones when they’re way more…..talented. Anything I do to protect him just seems like I’m tryna to be annoying to him. It’s fine because I love him and I won’t stop doing it, but I….just miss being cool.”

He feels something wet on the back of his neck and shudders.

“Ew! Did you just drool on me!? Come on!”

Sad, pitiful noises make him realize that he guessed wrong.

“Hey, sorry for saying all that….you’ve probably been through enough already.”

The animal rubs his cheek on the top of Raph’s head.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sad. Not as long as I find him.”

The animal rubs more as a response.

Raph smiles and continues walking. As he does, the animal begins trying to turn him a certain way. It’s confusing, but then he starts to think that maybe it knows where Mikey is.

Or he does until it leads him to an exit.

“I can’t go without my brother. Here, you get out, you’ve probably been trapped long enough.” He attempts to get the animal off but it refuses.

“Listen, I can’t-“

He suddenly hears the sound of a bunch of cages opening.

Change of plans.

He takes off running with the animal still held tight on his shoulders. Either the other animals are fast or he’s slow because they’re catching up fast.

The animal on his shoulders wriggles around a lot.

“I can’t let you down! They’re still coming!”

The animal doesn’t stop, eventually worming its way out of his grip. It lands behind him so he whirls around to finally get a good look.

No.

He can’t have been so stupid.

The animal now in front of him has claws, glowing red eyes, and spots.

“M-Mikey….?”

Mikey smiles sadly, shyly, as if he’d been caught stealing cookies instead of pretending he wasn’t mutated and hiding it.

Then, he turns to face the other mutated animals.

“No! MIKEY!” Raph screams.