#ice queen (affectionate)

[writtengalaxies]

Hello! I have returned to ask for more Poly crew leads + Captain

How does each of them react to getting flirted with?

Or maybe how they flirt with each other

Oh boy! A big one! :D This took me a solid like...3 days to work on. It's behind a read more simply because this got LONG. dfghjk

Engi!

A lot of our dear engineer is about swapping his ways of showing his affection depending on the person he's with.

Him and Celci play fight that sometimes boils over into actual fighting. When she's being sincere and soft, or lets herself be vulnerable around him? He gets flustered as fuck.

With Gunther, it's a lot more physical flirting. Yes, the infamous ass-smack, but also playful shoving. It's always flustering. Always. Man's a tomato.

When it comes to Burt, he flounders a little. But one of them brings the other a schematic, or a problem to solve? They're inseparable for hours. Burt just might also recite some of that poetry, and our Engi is broke.

Gunther!

Like I said before, he's handsy. And he's full of absolutely awful pick-up lines (/aff)

He's holding Celci's hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. He likes playing up the loud, protective boyfriend. Maybe she's never had someone to do that before, for her. She's confident and many people call her cold. He knows better. If she leans in to kiss his cheek, or she rests her head on his shoulder? Gone.

He'll lean against Burt. Maybe Gunther's fallen asleep that way before, and woken up being gently carried to bed, so he can get a good rest. He's too used to being the protector, so when someone is a caretaker for him? Yeah.

As mentioned before with Engi, the ass-smack. He knows he can be more physical than with the others, so it ends up being a lot of rough-housing. That gets a little more...you know. >.> But if Engi hands Gunther a schematic for a new ADS droid, or a weapon? It's a little more tender of a look.

Burt

Of them all, Burt is a romantic. He's soft man, with a sharp mind and usually very little words...unless he's being poetic.

Regardless of partner, he writes them poetry. Gunther loves limericks, he thinks they're fun. Celci often gets sonnets: the measured beats feel right for her. Engi gets freeform poetry, and if asked, Burt will say that it just makes sense for him. It's hard to disagree.

He's also a pinnacle of quiet, measured support. Sometimes you just need someone to listen to you, or to sit in silence with, and everyone knows Burt happily does that.

So when others do the same for him, be his support, or write him poetry (at a far less skilled level than his) or recite it for him? He'll deny wiping a tear or two away, but his smile is impossible to ignore.

Celci

It's easy to mistake Celci as cold and efficient. She is, but she has a deeper part to her that she hides. She let's it out among you all.

Sometimes the playfighting with Engi gets too much. They go too far. But there are other moments where she just sits with him, running her fingers through his hair. Celci doesn't like removing her gloves, but she will for him. And he's the one that absolutely peppers her with nicknames and pet names: Cels, C.C., Snowflake...and maybe the ice queen of cryo melts a little at that.

She's opened up to Gunther about a lot of specific insecurities: of you all, these two have been together the longest. You wouldn't think they'd get along, but he knows how to bring himself down to a quieter level, and she lets her walls down. The soft moments between them are constant. Their flirting is impossible to figure out, but it happens.

Burt and Celci can often be found just existing in silence together. He'll offer to work loose the spot in her shoulder that constantly gives her trouble (she holds herself so tense and tight), something she always tries to deny but ultimately gives in. She sings for Burt, in return, something she doesn't let even Gunther hear. It's more special that way.

The Captain

The Captain is the pinnacle of Acts of Service. If anyone wants help from them, what-so-ever, they're there.

So when it comes to flirting...they flounder in how to make it feel romantic and not like what they do for everyone else. So they lean more into the needs that others aren't aware of.

It's bringing Celci a hot cup of tea fixed just the way she likes it, an iced tea for Burt to cool down. They'll bring Gunther a hot cocoa, full of marshmallows, because they know he likes them. It's bringing the person they never gave up on a fresh cup of coffee when it's late at night and their memories of what happened haunt them both.

It's finishing paperwork before the others can get to it, so they have less to worry about. Making sure they're going to bed, eating enough, almost fussing, but never crossing the line over into "too much".

They don't know how to handle being flirted with.

Celci will set up picnics in front of the window on the Bridge, begrudgingly admitting that the view of your new home is gorgeous, and maybe the windows aren't a bad idea after all. When she holds their hand, words fail them, even more so than when she gently kisses their cheek.

Burt will give them silent, long hugs, letting the world's noise fade away. He holds their hands, not needing to say a single thing, letting it all be a comfortable quiet. With how busy even the calmest days aboard the Invincible are, it's a welcome respite. They don't know how to thank him for that.

Gunther pulls them out of their shell, encouraging them to break the rules a little harder, to stop worrying about propriety and being the perfect leader. He makes them laugh, cause problems that don't hurt anyone in the long run. He gets them to have fun again. It makes their heart race in thrilling ways.

And Engi...our engineer, the only one who really truly knows everything that the two of them went through, the weight of all those realities on their shoulders...At times it's letting them sob against his shoulder. Others it's a quiet reminiscing of the funny things that happened, comparing notes of realities. The first time he sees their bare hand after it all, he lifts their palm to his lips, gently kissing the center of it. An apology and a declaration of love all at once, and it makes their face burn with the intimacy of it all.

Our dear Captain is learning to let others love them, and the simple actions of being loved are the most flustering parts of being flirted with.

[elysianpristinity]

Find out what you’re into

          ❝ Well of course~ why else would I flirt with every pretty girl in sight~? ❞

[mechahero]

anonymous asked- It has you in it's jaws, a monstrous thing, dragging you into the depths of the earth and the ocean faster than you would have ever been able to sink, your lungs filling up with water over and over as you try to scream and thrash and pull yourself back up.

but it's got it's hold on you, and without a second thought you're pulled through a knotted body and crushed with the coils of a giant slimy tail, scraped against jagged edges of coral that dithered towards a humanoid back.

It's crushing you alive in a domain that wasn't meant for you, and it's going to continue doing so as you try in vain to break free and swim back to the surface. 

bad dreams (accepting)

His eyes snap open. The dream already starting to fade but. Coral. He remembers coral. Coral and the wide empty nothingness of terror that only large bodies of water could provide. Even with that, he still can’t shake the utterly icky feeling of something gross and slimy against his legs. That was the worst part, honestly. The feeling of viscous slime that wasn’t even there.

Lambda lifts the sheet and one foot presses against the floor.

He needs a freaking shower.

[von-eldritch]

@hazbinxdisaster​ said: JENNIFER ISN'T GOING TO HESITATE, approaching Hellsa from behind as sneakily as she could, and wrapping her arms around the other to then pick her up.

Hellsa’s been around far too long with far too many enemies for just anyone to be able to sneak up on her, but it’s Jennifer, so she pretends not to notice whatever it is she’s up to and feigns surprise the second her arms wrap around Hellsa to lift her up. (Okay, a little genuine surprise sneaks through once Hellsa realizes what she’s trying, but not much.)

Letting out a small laugh, she makes herself comfortable in Jennifer’s arms, lazily draping her own around the hellhound’s shoulders. “Nice to see you too, babe.”

[luveline]

Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off. 

You won't let him go. 

It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.

"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine." 

"You don't sound fine–" 

"Spencer, I'm fine." 

Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine. 

Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before. 

"I don't need medical–" 

"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable." 

Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable. 

A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?" 

He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go." 

The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.

"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready." 

She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you. 

Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled. 

"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise. 

"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego." 

"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.

Your tired sigh is like a rake.

"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."

"I was really scared," you murmur. 

Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart. 

"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now." 

You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?" 

Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?" 

Your stress melds fond. "No." 

"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down." 

"I never said I let someone down." 

"I worried you were thinking about it." 

"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing." 

"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say." 

You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?" 

"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week." 

"Ugh." 

"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says. 

"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything." 

[holybibly]

Heyy if your dark hours are still open…👀👀 would you mind sharing your thoughts about yandere Ateez concubine harem…? Or perhaps any harem that you can think of because I’m very much into this topic🤭🤭🤭

You know what? Today I wanted to be affectionate with you, damn bunnies, and spoil you with tenderness and sweets, but you just provoked my dark side with all these requests, didn't you?

So change of plan, bunnies; we're going down the dark and rough road. I love yandere's concubines, Ateez. God, can we think of anything more seductive and more dangerous than that? From now on, you should send me such requests more often, bunnies. Feed this demon within me.

You entered the palace as the wife of the new emperor. His fourth wife. His glittering war trophy.

When war came, your world was changed beyond recognition. Flames and ashes consumed the luxury and grandeur of the palaces, and the jewels turned to dust, leaving only you, the Ice Princess of the Northern Mountains.

Your life was made of crystal and your heart was made of ice stronger than diamonds, and it was this cold and lunar beauty that caused you to be forcibly married.

Yes, you may have entered the palace as the Emperor's wife. But you were a nobody within the high walls of the palace, just a sad reflection of past your greatness.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had a large harem, not counting the three older wives, but what really surprised you was that it was not only made up of girls, but of young men as well. There were eight of them. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one unique and unrepeatable.

Until one fateful night, you had never met them or seen them in person. It was a lunar festival, and you were its queen. Dressed in silk and the finest translucent tulle, as if kissed by the moon goddess herself, you sparkled and attracted the attention of everyone around you. Everybody, but not your husband. He didn't even look at you, brushed you aside as if you were an annoying mosquito, and sent you off to talk and smile at the guests while he went off to fuck another beautiful concubine.

And then, for the first time in your life, you had a meeting with the concubines of his other harem. And your world was turned upside down for the second time in your life.

It was love at first sight, a fire that burned through his veins and poisoned his mind. And it was all because of you. It was your fault that Wooyoung couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't laugh, and couldn't live. All of a sudden, his whole world was reduced to you and your heavenly, icy beauty. He passionately wanted to melt that ice, make you beg, squirm, and moan as he fucked you unconscious and painfully, filling you with his sperm and marking you as his property.

The only thing Wooyoung ever had in his life was his beauty. He grew up in poverty, living on scraps of food and the small amount of money he was able to pick up from the dirt. That is, until the day the current emperor, who was still a prince at the time, came upon him in one of the alleys, on the run from his guards. Wooyoung's dark fox eyes captivated him at once, and as if he had fallen under his spell, the emperor brought him back to the palace to be his concubine.

Wooyoung was a greedy concubine; there was always something that was not enough for him. He wanted to swim in luxury, to drown in gold and silk, to have diamonds, and to own the whole damn world. The best should be his, and so it was; the emperor gave him everything and more that Wooyoung had a desire for. And now you were in his sights. He wanted you so much that it ate him up from within and almost drove him mad, greedily and viciously, in the most horrible way in the world.

Yes, Wooyoung was greedy, and if he had to kill the Emperor to get you, he wasn't going to think twice about doing it.

One look at you could bring him to his knees. He would crawl to you like a pet if you commanded him to, and that desire was stronger than the hatred he felt for the whole of the world. You could tame his wild temper, and Mingi would want nothing more than for you to straddle him and ride his cock day and night, tearing the skin from his back and shoulders, choking him, and biting him until his will was broken. Mingi was uncontrollable and capricious, passion and fire raging in him, burning everything in his path, but your element was ice, burning him harder than hell itself.

Once upon a time, Mingi was a warrior, one of the great generals of his country, until the war came and destroyed his entire life. It took everything from him—his will, his family, his home. Yes, the war had taken everything from him except for the poisonous rage and the dark, vicious passion that was boiling in his veins. He was brought to the palace in chains like a slave, and that very night the Emperor took him by force and made him one of his concubines. This only made him bitterer.

Mingi was venomous and aggressive, biting and scratching until he bled, but you, you did something to him—you forced him into submission by your very presence, without him even knowing it. The wild, unbridled storm inside of him became the icy surface of the lake, soothing and healing. And Mingi wanted peace. He wanted the touch of your icy hands on his heated skin and cold kisses on his lips. He wanted you.

What is passion if not a flame that is a destroyer of all things on its way to its goal? And Mingi was full of fire to burn this damn palace to the ground to take possession of you.

He was sin clothed in a human body, debauchery and lust embodied in an image of heavenly beauty. The whole of Seonghwa's life had been nothing more than a constant stream of sex and an endless series of lovers. He could not get rid of this feeling; it was like frost on his skin. This constant, painful need was scratching him from the inside out. But when he saw you, all his thoughts were focused on you—on your pure, untouched skin that he wanted to lick and bite, on your slim waist that he wanted to squeeze as he fucked you continuously. On those red, seductive lips that would be simply amazing when wrapped around his dick. It was you he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Seonghwa wanted you to be the one. He didn't want anyone else, only you. 

Before he entered the palace, he was one of the most sought-after whores in the brothel, famous for his devilish beauty and his languid, cat-like gaze. There was a line of people waiting for him, and Seonghwa was more than happy to accept them all. He was insatiable, wanting to fuck anywhere and anytime, trying the most sinful and unusual things. He was a real slut. But when the emperor heard about Seonghwa and visited his brothel one day, everything changed. Suddenly, he was no longer just a whore; he became Imeretar's concubine.

Seonghwa's hunger could not be quenched, and one partner would never be able to cope with it. But here you are, pure and radiant like an angel, beckoning him with your immaculate beauty. You were stronger than his dark, insatiable demon of lust. He wanted to corrupt you, to make you like him, and to make you dependent on him, just as he had become dependent on thinking about you.

It is said that whores don't know how to love, but they know how to desire. And there was enough darkness in Seonghwa to consume and destroy the world; to possess your purity and chastity. Then let the world be plunged into darkness until you are alone with him.

Yeosang had never been interested in anything at all. The world was too boring and dangerous for him. He could never care less about it. If he could, he would stay safe and comfortable in his bed for the rest of his life. You were different—distant and cold, but with an inexplicable thirst to live. You wanted to see all the things around you, to experience the cultures and the art. The world was interesting to you, and that was a source of irritation to Yeosang.

Everything about you was fragile and exquisite, and the fact that you didn't see it was what made Yeosang so angry. Don't you see, little butterfly, the world is terrible and dangerous. You would be much better off with him in his bed, far away from anything that could harm you in any way. Perhaps you would finally understand that you shouldn't run away from the safety and comfort of his bed if he were to break you. If that helped, Yeosang would want to destroy you and fuck your little curious brain until you thought only of him. He would spend hours warming you with his dick, days kissing your cold lips, and smothering you with his attention and love.

Yeosang was always aware that one day he would be part of the emperor's household. He had been prepared for this since he was a child, pampered and protected from the whole world, so that there would not be a trace of dirt on his silky, snow-white skin. Always waiting for the Emperor to visit his chambers and warm his soft bed, albeit temporarily. Yeosang almost never left his room, but like all concubines, he had to attend the Moon Festival. And that's when he saw his fragile butterfly. And like everything beautiful in this world, you were too easy to break. Yeosang wanted to protect you, hide you between his sheets, and shower you with care.

Yes, beautiful things broke easily, sometimes too easily—delicate butterfly wings, flower petals, crystal jewelry. But Yeosang wanted to see how the most beautiful thing in the world—human life—broke.

He wanted to eat you alive. Sinking his teeth into you and never letting you go, you awakened in him this wild, all-consuming hunger that he could not satisfy with anything else. You were the most delicious dish of all, and your taste was his only desire. San had always been a little insatiable, wanting more attention, wanting to love more, wanting to more sex, wanting everything this world had to offer him. It was never enough. You walked past him without even looking in his direction, the trail of your perfume settling on his skin and seeping into his body, poisoning him as you went. He wanted you to pay attention to him, to smile at him, to love him, to touch him. Oh, he would never let you go, he would fill you with his cum over and over again, and it wouldn't be enough for his taste. If he could, his dick would be in your pretty pussy all the time, so warm and delicious. He was in desperate need of you, he was hungry for you, and this hunger was all-encompassing.

Ever since he was a child, San had had a voracious appetite, always in need of a bigger and sweeter bite to temporarily fill the emptiness inside him that was growing with him. He had everything he could ever wish for; he had grown up in a loving and wealthy family with titles, but the dark hunger that plagued him was terrible. No matter what it was, he was always in need of more. So one day, when the emperor asked if he wanted to join his harem, San didn't hesitate to accept, but the hunger didn't go away.

You were the most delicious forbidden fruit of them all, and San was desperate to sink his teeth into you. He could almost feel the heavenly sweetness of you on his tongue, and it was driving him wild.

The sky could crash and burn all around him, and he wouldn't care, as long as you could fill him up and satisfy him.

There was no one in this world who could ever be like him. There was no one like Hongjoong. There was no limit to his pride and his greatness, and any praise You never praised him, you never sought his attention, and you were never enchanted by his sharp mind, his sweet voice, or his beauty, which could only be rivalled by the devil himself. And Hongjoong hated it. He hated how much he wanted your attention and your love. He wanted you to worship him, idolise him, and devote your whole life to him. He had to have you in all ways, even if those ways were darker than the night itself.Hongjoong wanted to see you in his golden bed, stretched out on the silk, while he was ravaging your body. He wanted to hear the endless moaning of his name as his cock tore apart the little cunt that was yours. He was in need of it, so much so that his whole body ached.

Hongjoong was a trophy of war, just like you. He was a real prince, who was supposed to be a king one day. His ego knew no bounds, and he was cruel and daring. Of course, the whole of the palace was conquered by the magnificent prince dressed in gold - all of them, except for you.

Yes, Hongjoong was a true prince, and one day he would overthrow the emperor and take his rightful throne, and like every emperor, he had to have his empress. You may not see him now, but the day will come when Hongjoong will be the only sunshine that illuminates your life. And he couldn't wait for it.

Yunho has never been the victim of jealousy. He has always been the recipient of praise and adoration, a constant reminder of how much he is loved. Yunho had no idea how jealousy could be. Or so he thought, at least.

That night, when he saw you in the light of the moon, he had hatred for the whole damn world. How dare he look at what belonged to him? He envied all those who could speak to you so freely; he envied all those who could pronounce your name; he envied his emperor, who did not appreciate your beauty and who humiliated you. Damn it, Yunho was jealous of the very air you were breathing. He desperately wanted to be him—to live inside you and melt into your skin. He wanted to melt into you without a trace.He would have loved to take you to his bed, to kiss every inch of your skin, to fuck you long and slow, and to shower you with compliments and praise. He would like to have you in his arms all the time, writhing and moaning with desire and need. For him, you are the only thing he needs in his life.

Yunho used to be just a servant in the palace. But he caught the Emperor's eye. That very night, he entered the emperor's chambers as his new concubine. Yunho knew about the others; he knew that he was not the only one, but that never bothered him; he was able to share the attention of the emperor. Except you. You were his own, and even the world was not worthy of seeing you.

It would be so easy to have the entire palace blinded, so that no one else but Yunho would have to see your celestial beauty.

Jongho was a man too proud for his own good. In his mind, it was beneath his dignity to pay attention to others and smile sweetly at them. Jongho was the spoiled, arrogant son of one of the most important palace officials, and when his father had the chance to get close to the emperor, he naturally gave him to the harem. But even so, he still considered himself to be better than everyone else, even Hongjoong, who was a prince in his own right.

Jongho was the one who first saw you, quite by chance, when he visited his father on the night you were appointed as the emperor's fourth wife. The Emperor was a real fool not to see how brilliant and magnificent you were—a real crown jewel. You were a symbol of power, strength, and might, an enslaved princess of a once great country, and a black flame of desire flared up in Jongho—he wanted to own you completely.

He wanted you for himself—your thoughts, your will, your body, and your life. He wanted you to sit by his side, to be covered with jewels, and to bear his children. It was easy for him to imagine his hand wrapped around your fragile throat as he fucked you into the mattress, you begging and moaning for him, wanting to be filled with his cum.

Fueled by his selfish desires, his fixation on you became increasingly harmful and dangerous.

Out of all the trophies in the world, there was nothing that was more attractive to Jongho than you. And on the way to what he wanted, murder was never a serious matter for him.

[3lyvshiro]

𐙚 ⋆₊˚ 2:53 ..ᐟ

Suna Rintaro affectionately and unironically calls his grumpy, cold (,and apparently bitchy) girlfriend "sunshine". Even when she's the most standoffish, difficult person you'd ever interact with. he wholeheartedly believes that she is a little bundle of joy, and talks about her like shes an absolute angel to whoever asks.

for instance.

"Theres my girl. shes a little ball of sunshine, isnt she?" rin would say, talking about his girlfriend to a friend of his, with a finger pointed to her by the distance. said girl looking like a feral cat trying to keep a civilized conversation with one of his fangirls.

"morning, sunshine." rin would mutter, approaching his girlfriends desk as the scowl that was etched on her face immediately faded into a soft smile, only ever directed at rin. as she comes up to him and tightly hugs his torso, she nuzzled her face on his neck and catches a smell of his uniforms collar. freshly sprayed cologne. it was that masculine smelling brand that he knew was her favorite on him. she got on her tip toes to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek as he smiled down at her, a big hand on her waist as he patted her head gently.

"hey sunshine" rin would greet, leaning his weight on his girlfriends locker beside his while kissing her head and slipping his hand on her waist, despite her crossed arms and the massive scowl on her features prior to when he approached. he could only assume that something or someone pissed her off...again. upon seeing the look on her face and her obvious frustration, he'd cradle her cheeks with his two big hands to guide her to look at him. and, with the softest voice ever, only for her, he'd coo, "bad day, sweetheart?" while kissing away the heavy scrunch on her brow and caressing her cheek. he could tell from the way she would visibly soften, that she's turned to putty on his hands, once again. he was the only person who could have such an effect on her. at her lack of resistance when it came to him, rin couldn't control the upper quirk of his lips as he smiled softly at her. but before he could bask in the joy of a happy girlfriend once more(happy girlfriend =happy life), said girlfriend furrowed her brows once again. with a red face, she pulled away from rin only to pull on his bicep to keep him close to her as she walked them onto the other side of the hallway, to the cafeteria. She would never admit it, but rin always knew how to calm her down and make her go all soft for him. Yeah, she could be a grump sometimes, but he liked that about her, despite his friends teasing him for his dynamic with his grumpy girlfriend, always commenting about the contrast in how she treats everyone else compared to how she treats him.

something about how he gets special treatment from 'the ice queen' just because he's her boyfriend. in fact, whenever rins friends would catch a girl confessing to him. they always barge in and invite themselves in the conversation only to comment how "you have ta be as cold as y/n to even catch sunarins interest".

later in practice, rin finds himself bringing up how "n/n isnt cold." with the most serious face ever. and with almost everyone strongly disagreeing, he would add, "she can be a grump sometimes, but she isnt an ice queen." i mean, he knew she wasnt exactly the nicest person alive, or the easiest to get along with, but saying she was an ice queen was a bit of a stretch. atleast to him. thats why when atsumu shudders and weakly shares his own encounters and past interactions with the girl, of how difficult it was to get along with her, rin could only scoff in disbelief. "how is she difficult to approach? that must be a you problem because she's literally a ray of sunshine." rin would defend, not catching the sudden dull and stiff tension in the air that enveloped the club room. glancing at his teammates, who all suddenly looked gravely pale, he turned to osamu, who only let out a low whistle as he turned his head to the side. "if y/n's a ray of sunshine, kitas the laziest person in this room." atsumu would speak for everyone, since no one had the guts to say a word, too afraid it would reach sunarins icy girlfriends ears. his statement followed up through by a series of "yup"s, "yeah"s, and overall agreements. rin raises a brow, genuinely confused.

[gumycandyyy]

୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ｘ Ｈｅｒｏ ｒｅａｄｅｒ ♡୧

Some more headcanons for your soul! Trying to fill up this tag with quality writing <3

Request: Nah fam, nobody's submitted one yet.

GN reader

Romantic

Please I need more content of this zest fest. Headcanons under the cut!

︵‿︵‿୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ♡୧‿︵‿︵

-So, going under the assumption that since you're a hero (kinda like Fionna or Finn)

-you're buff.

-He fanboys about it.

-He LOVES doing the 'damsel in distress' bit.

-He's the damsel.

-He's in distress.

-I'm serious, he was just kidnapped.

-Go help him now.

-Candy Queen sees your existence like a challenge.

-Putting the stakes higher,

-actually trying to kill the Winter King, (or do the cake batter thing, idk.)

-and waiting to see if you do anything about it.

-You do.

-You kick Candy's butt.

-Always.

-You sometimes team up with the ice scouts on rescue missions, or just for training in general.

-Winter is just...

-Fawning over you constantly.

-If you'll allow it, he'll follow you like a lost puppy, or ask you to carry him around.

-PRINCESS CARRY HIM RIGHT NOW.

-RIGHT NOW

-He loves feeling small and dainty in your arms.

-Even if he's taller than you.

-Let him have this.

-He loves how caring you are.

-He just wants to crumple you up and stick you in his pocket (affectionate)

-He's a silly little guy that thinks you're strong and cool.

-Every once in a while, after rescuing him from the obnoxious clutches of the Candy Queen, he wants you to do the dip-kiss thing.

-you know the one

-He's so in love with you it's unreal.

-While he's perfectly capable of defending himself, he's a king! He has a certain image he needs to uphold!

-So he just likes it when you get to show off how strong you are, while also protecting him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡ ＷＡＨＨ ♡୧‿︵‿︵

thank you for reading! Here's another complimentary piece of artwork!

reblog for a beginner writer?

Requests are open! Send them to my ask box! Be shameless!

[writtengalaxies]

Valentine request, poly crew leads + captain?

Or an Eric one if you feel more comfortable doing that

POLY CREW LEAAAAADS OH MY GOD. There just should straight up be more polyam fics, tbh! 

[Valentine's Requests are open!]

You were a little nervous about how Valentine's Day was going to work.  Back on Earth, you hadn't really celebrated it: too busy with all the work it took to become captain. But now, this was the first time you'd get to celebrate it, and to make it even more nerve-wracking, it wasn't like you only had one partner.

Oh no. You had four.

Your crew leads had worked it out between themselves before any of them came forward to you, and it ended up as a discussion you all had after one of your group meetings, but it was still incredibly new. You didn't even know really what to do, and you were dating all the ones who would give you advice in the first place. With no one left to go to, you were sure to be the partner who'd disappoint them all. An irrational part of you knew that they wouldn't all break up with you if you didn't, but was still afraid that could happen.

But then the date night came, and you had no idea what to do or to expect. You had walked back from your office, wondering just what you were going to do, when your door opened before you could get your keys out. There were the four of them, dressed nicely, waiting for you.

"Wh-" was all you could get out before Celci grabbed your hands, tugging you inside.

"Go on, go take a shower, go relax," she all but ordered, kissing your cheek.

"Dinner'll be ready soon," was Burt's short reply, the soft smile letting you know that he had only stepped away to greet you.

"I've got the romantic lighting all under control, Cap'n." 

Gunther clapped Mark on the back, making the man rock on his feet. Out of all of them, he seemed the most nervous. "We'll be waiting for you," he added softly, smiling at you in the way that only the two of you truly understood.

Despite their encouragement for you to relax, you still hurried through your shower. You hadn't done anything, but they were making you dinner, had dressed up...maybe you should to? But your wardrobe hadn't really been prepared for dressing nice. Formal occasions, work functions, casual clothes...you didn't have much. You had to settle with the nicest casual clothes you had. Everything else was strictly work or incredibly formal things where you had to make an appearance as Captain.

None of them minded, it turned out. Even as they bustled about, making you sit at your table and not work, they all stopped by to give you a brief kiss, laughing and smiling. Even Celci and Mark's unending feud came to a pause this evening.

When they all disappeared for a moment, you got worried, until they appeared carrying dish after dish, leaving your mouth watering. You blinked, realizing everything was all the foods you loved. You choked up, tears threatening to fall for a moment.

"We couldn't agree who'd get the first shot at a date with you," Gunther leaned back in his chair, chewing on the end of his cigar.

"So, instead, we compromised and all planned this together." Celci reached over to the ADS lead, setting his sunglasses on top of his head. The tender look they shared made you realize there might be more between the two of them too, after all this.

"It is better to share the love we have than hoard it," Burt sniffed, shifting his glass a little to the left for an unseen reason.

Mark grabbed your hand in both of his, kissing the knuckles. "Tonight's all about you."

"But...but I didn't get anything for any of you!" You had to protest. This was all too much, and you couldn't just get away with doing nothing.

The four of them shared a look, all shaking their heads or sighing.

"Captain," Mark squeezed your hand gently. "You've done more for all of us than any of us could ever do for you. You love us. That's all we could ask for in the universe."

[blairamok]

starting the day off strong with more asks.

what are A & C’s favorite costumes and performances? (Also, on a personal question note, could you please explain off-season shows? You said Azi does them but as I know nothing of skating I have no clue what that means.)

hell yea.

i think one of crowley’s favorite programs is his queen medley, along with its costume that i’ve affectionately titled flash (bastard). it’s a retired competitive program that he does mostly for galas now.

one of aziraphale’s has to be his sing, sing, sing program in which he wears a bow tie and suspenders that he can playfully tug on, another gala performance (and very much inspired by this performance). i’m staying lowkey on their upcoming season programs but i can say for aziraphale that he doesn’t particularly like a lot of his recent competitive programs because gabriel has a lot of say in what he does for competitions, as coaches usually do.

as for shows! there are touring ice shows such as stars on ice or fantasy on ice (and many many more) that employ skaters during the off season, featuring group ensembles as well as solo performances by some of the more prestigious skaters. that’s all there really is to it! aziraphale would likely be with a company that tours europe, or possibly even japan (like fantasy on ice) as he is insanely popular over there. most tours usually last about a month or so. crowley isn’t much for shows right now, he’s currently living comfortably off competition winnings and sponsorships

[mthlg]

mmmmmm.... cisswap moshang... sqh creates mbj with all the traits from women she's had an unrequited thing for (cold, distant, and Not Into Her... the perfect woman). sqh who transmigrates in and gets trapped in the wlw "are we dating???" zone. 

sqh who grew up unlucky in the world of relationships... with one middle school girlfriend, and too many nattainable crushes on girls who were straight or taken or both... and then suddenly life being too busy and money becoming her primary incentive…

sqh writing pidw as a reverse-harem novel where luo binghe becomes the empress of the two realms, picking up man after man along the way... the black-powder sy criticising pidw SPECIFICALLY for how lbh jumps between men when she deserves one faithful companion (coughs) 

that faithful companion, of course, is mbj - the elegant and ruthless leader of the northern wastes. cold to the touch, gorgeous, loyal (and in sqh's deleted notes, completely and uselessly in love with lbh). 

(sqh always felt bad that mbj's love was destined to never be returned. but mbj is For Her. the readers could have lbh, or whatever boy of the month was in the spotlight. mbj is sqh's.)

sqh (as she does in most universes) tumbles headfirst into pidw, and into mbj's life, and her own complicated too-long plot. she goes through her whole life a second time - her shitty family, her transition, and this time a weird friend-servant relationship with a hot demoness- 

…then there’s the situationship. 

even in the early days, when mbj had been young and expressed her feelings through violence, she’d been… handsy. affectionate wasn’t the right word - that would denote some kind of care behind it! - and really it’s just… tactile. 

mbj is essentially a seven-foot snow leopard. when she naps, she traps sqh under at least one ice-cold limb. she manhandles sqh by gripping the fleshy part of her waist, the soft of her arm, and once (terrifyingly) the squishy part of her thigh. 

these days (with her black-powder fan having married her protagonist, and her queen having taken control of the north, and most things having calmed down) sqh spent more time in the demon realm than her own house. 

if sqh does try to get work done on an ding, mbj is guaranteed to show up within a few hours. she’s learned to wear a full set of robes in her leisure house, thanks to the single time mbj teleported in while she was only wearing her undergarments. 

sqh’s leisure house alone is littered with items mbj has left behind - paperwork that should probably be top-secret, a litany of hair pins, even one of her old fur-lined cloaks sqh has taken to snuggling with in winter. 

if mbj has a banquet, sqh is there. if mbj wants to go hunting, sqh is there. if mbj so much as wants to take a nap, sqh has to be there underneath her, like a squishy little heat-pack. 

…sqh has created a demon with attachment issues!!!

sqh thinks, when she wrote demons in her original novel, that she probably did make them so clingy. the men she had lbh tumble with always followed her after, wanted more, tried to stay safely in her pocket. mbj, originally, was always by lbh’s side too - but that’s different! she was in love with lbh!

sqh thinks maybe, when she’d been lonely with nothing but a body pillow to keep her comfort, that she’d subconsciously written this level of attachment in. sue her for wanting companionship, okay! 

sqh thinks about all of this one evening, as she sits in an ornate chair beside mbj’s in the banquet hall. beside her, mbj picks at her food with her long, black-tipped claws, looking as proud and cold as ever. 

…ahh, sqh really did a good job when she created mbj. the prominent arch of her nose, the bone-white of her skin contrasted with her thick, dark hair, the blue mark pulsing on her forehead. every part of mbj broadcasted danger, down to the sharpened tips of her teeth. 

as if feeling sqh’s staring, mbj slates her gaze down, pinning sqh with her unreadable icy-blue eyes. she makes a low, confused noise in the back of her throat. 

“is the food not to your liking?” she says. when mbj speaks, her voice thrums with power - she doesn’t have to project, or raise her voice, to be heard. 

sqh flounders instantly in response. “ah, my queen- it’s fine! i’m just in thought!” 

that’s another thing - the cooking!!! since sqh had hit her and asked for noodles, mbj’s been giving her little personalised meals! just her! god knows who even taught that woman to cook! 

“are you feeling unwell?” mbj continues. “would you like to return to our chambers?”

….AND, of course, since sqh still has no room in the northern kingdom, she’s been bunking with mbj!!! in mbj’s bed!!! all wrapped up in fifty thousand blankets to withstand the demon ice pack next to her!!! 

with all the attention, and the closeness… it’s so easy to jump to conclusions. but sqh knows women. she’s jumped to conclusions with women before. and this mbj - the woman who was /created/ to be unattainable - this couldn’t be- 

“my queen, is this banquet not important?” sqh babbles. “the southeastern clan - would that not be detrimental to the trade agreement?” 

mbj assesses her with her eyes and hums again. “deal with it, then.” 

sqh chokes back a short laugh, which has mbj quirking her lips. she finds it in herself to eat. 

the banquet itself is… fine. they’re negotiating sanctions with the southeastern tribe, who offer their lumber and materials in exchange for military support. the leader of the clan is a young, amicable man, who had been pushed down by lbh in the original pidw thanks to…. well, pollen. 

sqh had spent the last week or so helping mbj with the trade agreements, sitting in on meetings and trying to find the best outcome for her queen. the southeastern leader - called xiao-yin affectionately by his subordinates - had seemingly taken a liking to sqh. 

…though not quite as tall as mbj, xiao-yin towered over sqh. it was not infrequent that some warring demon took interest in the sole human in a way that made sqh feel like she was being sized up for a meal. sometimes, it seemed that the demons had simply never met a human before. 

it usually amounts to nothing… also, mbj seems to notice sqh hiding behind her enough that she intuitively scares them off. some, like this xiao-yin, seem to be rather persistent.

three times, the young leader tries to lean over mbj to start a conversation with sqh. each time, mbj follows his movement to block his view, offering sqh more wine or openly feeding her muachee. xiao-yin only laughs gamely and attempts to drag someone else into conversation. 

sqh revels in the attention. hey, it’ll amount to nothing, but it still feels great to have a hot demoness fawning over you! plus going along with it seems to calm the tension building in mbj’s shoulders. she would hate to see her queen stressed!!!

the feast reaches its ending point. the courtiers from the southeastern clan begin giving their thanks - they are a nocturnal clan, living in the depths of a giant forest, and will be leaving during the night.

it’s customary to offer the final round of parting gifts at this moment. when xiao-yin finally steps up to give his dues, a flurry of servants quickly follow after him, carrying what must be their offering. 

sqh examines it while the man talks. it seems to be a gigantic, spotted pelt - the tusked ash-leopard, she guesses, a type of megafauna only found in that mega-forest she made the hell up one day. it is, in fact, an ostentatious gift. 

mbj assesses it and hums. it’s a very bored hum. mbj clearly wants them to leave already.

“your grace, such a generous gift!” sqh rushes to say, lest mbj offend their guests. “my queen accepts warmly. and for our gift, we’ve prepared you-” 

“if i may interrupt, we have no need for a gift,” xiao-yin interrupts. 

sqh chokes. “um-?? but we-”

“i have only one request from queen mo,” xiao-yin continues. “the most generous gift she could bestow upon us is the advisor shang.” 

“...what,” sqh says. 

“i have seen that advisor shang is competent and intelligent,” xiao-yin continues, “and rest assured i do not ask for her politically; but rather that advisor shang might become my consort. we could make arrangements for her to visit, i’m sure. this is my only request.” 

sqh opens her mouth to argue, and shuts it again. she’d love to reject him flat out - she’s sure mbj might let her - but even without looking, she can feel waves of icy rage pouring off her queen. 

“clan leader yin,” mbj starts - and whoahhh, her voice has dropped to a growl, and if that isn’t /hot/ - “i understand, in your little clan, you are revered. but you must be delusional to ask for the hand of my wife.” 

sqh chokes, as does xiao-yin. the man seems to rapidly pale at his mistake, and he opens his mouth to fix it, but mbj keeps talking. 

“asking for possession of my wife is the gravest insult your clan could have made - the assumption both that i would ever allow consort shang to leave my line of sight, and that she would take your offer, is astounding. our trade is off.” 

“but lady mo-” 

“leave now, before i raze you and the remainder of your clan to the ground.” 

xiao-yin shuts up and finally follows orders. the clan speeds out of the door. as they leave, sqh sees mbj beckon her general closer; she has half a mind to warn mbj away from starting an unnecessary war, but she’s still stuck on the whole…. wife-thing. 

…wife?

as her brain comes back online, sqh realises mbj is holding her arm in an almost crushing grip, nails piercing into her skin. wincing, sqh blindly pets the hand, peeling it away; she uses the grip on mbj’s hand to lead her out of the hall and towards their chambers. 

mbj, she realises, is shaking. 

sqh gets mbj seated on her bed. she takes off her outer layer, trying to smooth her shoulders out. then, she sits behind her to attack the complicated hairstyle mbj had been forced into for the event, methodically loosening the series of braids at the back. 

after a long moment, mbj speaks. “...he deserved it.” 

sqh chokes a little bit. “i’m sure he did, my queen. it’s only-” 

“don’t tell me you wanted to go with him,” mbj snaps. 

“of course not, my queen! i just meant - you didn’t have to lie!” 

mbj tenses. sqh pauses mid-braid, wondering where she’d made the error. 

“to ask for a member of your staff is- a grave injustice alone!” she babbles. “but you didn’t have to pretend we were /married/ to humiliate him!” 

there is a very long, frozen moment of silence. and then, slowly, mbj says: “...we /are/ married.” 

what. 

“what?” 

mbj twists to face sqh. sqh lets the hair slip from between her fingers, and mbj quickly takes sqh’s now-empty hands into her own cold ones. they’re so much larger, sqh thinks dumbly - and the black tipped nails would look great-

“we are married,” mbj says again. “you are my wife. we have been married under the laws of the mo clan for over six moons.”

“since when!” sqh yelps. 

“since i ascended,” mbj says. “you did not know? i thought you were aware and just-” 

mbj trails off. sqh narrows her eyes and thinks about the last six months - the moping when sqh took time off to go to an ding, the increasing amount of contact, scaring off suitors, the entire wardrobe of clothes- 

“you thought i knew and didn’t want to-!!!” sqh yells. she instantly grips mbj’s hands back and leans forward, determined to bully it into her any way possible. “my queen! of course i do! i thought /you/ weren’t interested! i thought you saw me as a friend!” 

mbj makes a face. “i do not hug my friends.” 

“wow, there’s so much to unpack there but that’s not important right now.” 

sqh drops mbj’s hands and hurriedly tries to climb into her lap, pushing at her shoulders. “quick - quick!!! i know now, so you should just-” 

mbj pushes sqh back onto her bed - because somehow, after years of sucking at love and romance, sqh has managed to bag a hot ice-cold demon wife who actually wants her back. 

(their first time still sucks, because mbj is a stone top with talon-length nails, but they’ll work it out.)

[inspired by this art by jojo!]

[milfhawks]

hockey player shanks x figure skater mihawk

shanks is the charismatic captain and star player of a hockey team

mihawk is a figure skater who only does solo performances and has never had a partner

shanks calling mihawk his ice queen (affectionate) and mihawk watching shanks’ games despite saying he’s too busy to come… t h e m

[von-eldritch]

@fizzarolli​ said: 'ʘ‿ʘ' in a strictly friendship way but definitely thinks her less humanoid form is appealing because there's nothing ELSE quite like it.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Hellsa being attractive is a fact (x2)

.....damnit.

“Look, I’m only going to say this once. Once, okay??? I don’t like clowns. The very second I see some rosy-cheeked bastard peeking around the corner I want to do unspeakable violences to it, and as someone who speaks most violences with no lack of conviction whatsoever that should clue you in to the degree of my ire.” 

“But! If I had to pick a clown whose appearance did not cause immediate ill humor in me... it would be you and your stupid dumb little idiot face.”

[time-woods]

Previous Sidus fashion ask anon here; couldn’t agree more w/ ur in-canon prismo tag thoughts there.

I, for one, think it’s inspiring and amazing of your lore to acknowledge prismo’s canonical tendency!

…which is obviously his vicarious outlet for making fashionably boobied OCs as a flatter-chested ahem ‘2D’ wishgod wall-being.

Totes unrelated to all your amazing queer rep art and how much MEGA appreciation you deserve for feeding us, but imagine someone lookin @ the source of characters like Ice Queen, Hana Abadeer, Fiona, or Lord Monochromicorn and somehow still doubting if canon Prismo is queer-coded.

LMAOO couldnt be me dude. bro be giggle flustered over a little furry dude’s “i love u prismo” on 1st meetup so hard he immediately snuck a secret note in afterwards asking about getting that 2nd date-er, super casual offer to hang again, I mean.

Definitely not thinking about how your “THE party” comic makes for perfect headcanon juice as to why Prismo could’ve developed a mild over compensation coping technique for preventing repeats in missed social connections w those who he would’ve liked meeting again later. They might’ve enjoyed hanging out together again too and he’d never know! Maybe he really could’ve been too much on someone like that one time at the party and needs better awareness. Were they just chirp shy?… :’ (

No worries to be had if you simply supply the right non-verbal resources to reach out again at their own comfort and someone just happens to choose not to! Better confirmation on messing up upsetting others too. You lose 100% of the shots you don’t take! :’D

Gives Jake all his available contact info, his total openness in schedule for home visits, and just a wee little home cooking incentive for added insurance. Low key interested in learning a cool instrument too after talking. might even offer to jam together later if he’s feelin cute idk.

No conditional romance requirements for remaining openly affectionate, loving, and kind w friend crushes even if they were dating someone else and expecting kids.

Classic heteronormative Prismo. /J

thankyou ! !

and god yea whats up with this wallsticker man like theres no way he aint queer . . .

[powderblueblood]

The level of detail and thought you've put into hai is incredible!

I have a question. I love how you've described Eddie as a rizzless loverboy (my favorrite kind) so I need to know how he managed to get with an ice queen like Nicole. Not to mention some stuff with Chrissy later and even Cass but I'm most curious about Nicole, especially since she's a former friend of lacy's and he describes her as the one person who's meaner than lacy. I need details. How did it all go down? i like to imagine that she approached him. What makes me sad is that I think she probably did it just to say she lost her virginity but I also like to think that they all find him hot but they just wont say it because he's the town freak

NONNY COME THROUGH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!!! hard agree on nicole approaching him because she's nasty as fuck in all the wrong era-typical ways and he's scared as hell of her (like, she really could bite and not in a cute way). but i also agree about these girls secretly being endeared to him. i mean, we saw it with chrissy-- he has a knack for making people feel safe in vulnerable little moments. but unfortunately, people (teenagers) are also diiiiiiicks

so fuck it, let's blurb it out! or

EDDIE MUNSON STAMPS NICOLE SUMMERS' V-CARD (NOT A BOARD WAXER, NOT IN MAUI)

content warning: swearing, wildly unsexy implication of sex, nicole summers sucks dude, teenagers scare the living shit out of me, me attempting to incorporate dnd terminology, GRANNY ECKER KLAXON, there's also an easter egg in this for the rest of the story if you know where to look word count: 2.6k (lol what)

part of the hellfire & ice universe (duh!)

FOREST HILLS TRAILER PARK, 1982-ISH

She's gotta be doing community service.

It's Easter, right, so this has gotta be like... a Jesus thing. But she doesn't seem like a Jesus person.

It's the only precedent that would explain what Nicole Summers, jaw jutting out in an exaggerated scowl, is doing serving Meals on Wheels to the less fortunate dwellers of Hawkins' favorite trailer park. Her red hair blazes in the sunlight, searing into his retinas--

But that could also be the weed talking.

"Ma'am, like, I don't know what to tell you, you're signed up to receive these."

"And I don't know what to tell you, little girl," Veronica Ecker Sr., affectionately and fearsomely known as Granny to him, grits from the doorway, "but I'm perfectly capable of cooking my own darn food."

Eddie's been lingering around the Ecker trailer, see, waiting for Ronnie to be freed from yet another M*A*S*H appointment with her grandmother ("Ever since she stopped going to church, it's like, all Alan Alda all the time," quoth Ronnie) and run through his latest Hellfire campaign.

"I'm not saying that you don't, I'm just saying that--"

"You're making me miss my program."

"I'll eat it." Eddie doesn't know who said that or why it sounds like his voice, until he figures out that he said it, which is why it sounds like his voice. Jesus, that shit he lifted from his dad was strong.

Granny Ecker and Nicole Summers elicit almost identical reactions of annoyance once they clock that he's there, lingering in the outfield.

"Junior, if you don't--"

"Oh my God. Ew."

Eddie plants his hands on his hips, half in the hopes that this might look authoritative, half mirroring Granny. "Well, y'know. Waste not want not."

Granny considers him, then apparently considers that this might not be such a terrible idea. Her laser focus directs back to Nicole.

"I don't give a shit. I'm not eating that tripe."

"I'm not just-- authorized to pass off meals like that. There's a system."

"Wait, you need clearance for stuff like that? In Meals on Wheels?" That'd be Ronnie's voice, head popping over her grandmother's shoulder. "Oh, hey, Eddie."

"Hey, Ron. You ready to--"

"Veronica, get back inside. I need you to hit that thing back to record when M*A*S*H comes back on. I don't want any commercials on my darn tapes."

"Oh my God, forget it!" Nicole breaks, stalking towards him with a foil-wrapped tray. She stays a safe distance away and thrusts it towards them-- something something freak cooties, some new line of bullshit that her and her dumb little clique had come up with in middle school. "Here. I don't need the whole freak council weighing in on this."

Eddie takes the tray and considers the shiny foil wrapping. His reflection is all distorted in there, a funhouse mirror but way, way worse. This makes him compelled to be unwisely honest to Nicole, who's already making tracks away from him. He jogs to catch up, foil crinkling as he moves. "Well, now I feel bad."

"Don't."

"It's like robbing from old people. Maybe you should give this to another old person. Like a super skinny one. Who might need two."

"Fuck 'em."

"Gee, Nicole, you're really buildin' that stairway to heaven, huh?"

"Ugh. What?"

"The meals-- the Meals on Wheels. It's a nice thing to... do. Fuckin'... forget it." Eddie stops dead; he might be loaded right now, but he knows which side his bread is buttered on. And he hasn't got any bread. He thinks it might be mashed potatoes, green beans and some rubbery chicken. Anyway, he turns heel-- this conversation isn't going anywhere.

"Hey, freak." The derisive nickname comes calling from Nicole's end. Ring-ring. "Are you stoned right now?"

"De-pendsssss," Eddie murmurs, the 's' sound going on for like five minutes, "Are you... a cop right now?"

Nicole busts out a giggle. It's kind of a pretty noise, if a little grating. She's kind of pretty. Eddie remembers when she had braces in middle school and whenever she'd pick on him, she'd kind of spit on him too. Gross. But still kind of pretty.

"I know how you can make it up to me."

Jump-freaking-cut and Nicole Summers is sitting with Eddie in that creepy wooded area near Forest Hills, making a miserable job of rolling a joint out of a dusting of his dad's weed and a torn-open Pall Mall. His buzz has kind of come and gone, and in its wake the knotted, deadened trees are looking extra gnarly.

"God, I suck at this."

You don't suck. You just need practice, is what Eddie would say if it were anybody else sitting with him, but all he manages is, "Eugh."

Because she does suck. And he's too nervous to further verbalize himself. He holds his hand out and she drops the comically conical attempt at a joint into it.

Deftly, Eddie re-rolls it just like that. "Practice, baby. Only way to Carnegie Hall."

"Wait, what?" Nicole murmurs, brow furrowed.

Eddie wishes he didn't phrase it like that either. "Um. Nothing. How come you're doing Meals on Wheels?"

A guttural sigh comes right from the center of her chest, which Eddie can almost see, thanks to her super low-cut tank top. Her cleavage is all freckled and hiked up, thanks to the Wonderbra that he's been painstakingly avoiding tracing the outline of with his eyes. "My fucking aunt. She's like some do-gooder Christian nutso, she runs the whole thing."

"Oh--" but Nicole's not done. She kicks a toeful of dirt up just as Eddie ignites the end of the joint and takes a harsh pull.

"I'm stuck with her this whole break because my grades were shit. I'm supposed to be in Maui, y'know."

Eddie wordlessly passes the joint on. Knew it was a Jesus thing. And like, boo-hoo, he guesses? He doesn't have any real pity for Nicole Summers right now, because overall she fucking blows. She's mean as hell, for no good reason.

Ronnie came up with a good analogy for it one time; like, put up against that chick Lacy that she hangs out with, Nicole is mean like a bad dog. She just keeps barking and barking and barking and barking and it is relentless and it's busting open your eardrums and she's snarling and you're too scared to get in her way so you just tolerate it. Even if it fucks up your whole day.

That Lacy girl, though, she's mean like a guillotine. One sharp drop and you're done. Dead. Headless horseman.

"I know which one is worse-- Nicole, obviously, because it chips away at you and it's so freakin' loud. But I know which one I'd prefer," Ronnie had said, "I feel like if Lacy comes for you, you've really earned it. Like, you possibly deserve to perish."

But ultimately, curiosity will be the death of Eddie Munson. And so will girls. And so will boring Spring break Sundays.

Nicole half-chokes on a lungful of smoke and Eddie's got to pat her on the back so he doesn't get nailed for her murder or whatever.

"God. Gross," Nicole gripes on recovery. "Ugh. My whole family is in Maui, but I'm stuck here and like-- I even told people I was going to Maui and it's like-- so fucked."

"Totally." Eddie makes pincer fingers towards the joint. "Don't bogart that."

But Nicole is holding it aloft, totally off on her own journey, and Eddie wonders if the weed has hit her that fast or if she's just completely self-involved.

"I even sent postcards to people, pretending I was in Maui. If you wanna know something really pathetic."

It takes a second for Eddie to decipher it, but it seems like she's saying that she's been sneaking around Hawkins incognito all break because she told all of her sucker friends she was in the Central Pacific.

"You completely said that sentence backwards."

He notes that down to tell Ronnie about later.

"Shuddup, freak."

"Man, it is so completely uncool of you to keep calling me a freak when you're literally smoking my weed."

"You took my Meal on Wheel."

"Meal on Wheel for a well-rolled joint does not an even trade make, Summers!"

"So why did you say okay?!" Nicole barks, and Eddie finally gets a grasp of that joint. He's up, he's off the log they were occupying. There is a buzz to be had here, a good time rolled tight up in these flammable papers and he is not about to waste it by letting Nicole Summers verbally wail on him.

"Because I am obviously a veritable moron of the highest knight's order and I had time to kill before M*A*S*H was over!"

That rhymed.

Nicole looks up at him with her green eyes narrowed, this horrible, puggy grimace wrinkling her face. And then she says something so beyond the realm of Eddie's comprehension that he's sure the weed is turning on him.

"Do you wanna, like, hook up?" Nicole says-- scratch that, Nicole snarls.

"What?!" So this level of fuckery doesn't make sense to Eddie because nobody's around. Like, if Nicole takes a shot at the freak and Hagan and Carol and Tina and Lacy and Cass aren't around to hear it, did it even happen?

"I'm serious," Nicole deadpans. "I kind of... look, so I kind of wrote to some people that I hooked up with someone on vacation and, like... I could make that not a whole lie."

"Nicole," Eddie says, in a tone about as measured as he can manage, which is not very because his balls seem to have vacuumed themselves back into his body, "Are you asking me to aid and abet your elaborate scam in which you're currently pretending you're in Maui getting, what... railed by like, a surfer?"

"Wow. That's actually kinda close to what I've been telling people."

He would later find out that she said her premiere paramour was a board waxer.

Eddie inhales a lungful of smoke so deep and so urgent that it makes him feel like Hunter S Thompson-- that is, to say, certifiably insane. Because Eddie's never been... Like, he's made out, or whatever, and grazed a boob like once, but...

In an ideal world, he would not be in the woods. In an ideal world, there might be some perfect declaration beforehand, and he might be indoors, and he might be wearing cleaner underwear. In an ideal world, it would not be Nicole Summers.

Roll Perception. Is this really how it happens? Maybe she secretly... likes me?

The D20 in his brain lands a nat one.

Yeah, maybe. But you've been wrong about that before.

Nicole gets up, and he can just about see the cogs turning in her head, trying to intimate an expression of sultriness. It's such a thin mask that he can basically see her rolling her eyes behind it.

"C'mon. You can't tell me you haven't... thought about it," she tries, dropping her voice in volume and pouting her lips.

And Christ, Eddie hates to be such a guy about it, but... you hate to look a gift horse in the formerly-braces-clad mouth.

I haven't thought about it. I think you suck. But I also think this might be my one shot at something for a long, long, long, long, long--

"God, quit thinking about it and kiss me, freak."

It's almost hot, it's like lukewarm at the very best, which is good enough for Eddie so he goes for it. Lips on lips, but Nicole apparently doesn't follow rhythm very well. There's a lot of dry macking, not a lot of... sensual action. He's almost starting to feel sorry for her.

But then-- well, let's just cut to the chase since that's the flavor du jour, then her hand is on his dick. Through the jeans, obviously, she's not a belt ninja but it's very much there. Flesh and tendons, palming at him.

In this situation, Eddie's not a hard sell. Badum-tsssss.

He uses one hand to hook around the back of her neck, tilting her head toward him-- using this opportunity to kiss her right, or what he assumes is right, while she's distracted. Nicole cannot focus on two things-bad kissing and dick handling-at once, unlike Eddie, who uses his free hand to feel her boobs.

"Siddown on the log," she breathes. Just what you want to hear in the heat of passion.

"Uh-- okay," and he does what he is told. Because she's still a pitbull, at the end of the day.

"Do you, like, have anything?"

"Like... the clap?" Eddie sorta-squeaks as Nicole positions herself over him, one knee either side of his thighs. She's got good balance. Is she in cheerleading? Or is that the other mean one?

"No, you fuckin'-- like a condom."

"Oh." His heart sinks. There's a box of Trojans that Ronnie jokingly bought him after he tried to lay a smacker on her-majorly misguided move, by the way!-but he doesn't--

Wait, shut up. They were literally having this argument the other day, he and Ronnie, about that tiny pocket on pairs of jeans. You know the one. Ronnie was trying to explain that it was for cowboys to keep their watches in, whereas Eddie was arguing that there's no way that cowboys need a watch, dude. They go by the sun in the sky. Like men, so the pocket obviously had to be for emergency prophylactics.

He'd even demonstrated, slipping a good ol' Troj into the tiny fold!

Eddie, in his over-excited state, almost knocks Nicole off the log trying to dig the rubber out. "Voilà."

"Whut," Nicole mumbles.

"Do you take Spanish?"

"No, French."

"... okay."

Here it is. This is it. He's about to get his dick out in the scary wooded part by the trailer park where he once tried to dig a hole to China. Fuck.

But all of a sudden, Nicole is fumbling. Her movements are suddenly weird and unsure and reserved and tight. Badum-- fuck off.

"Hey, y--y'alright?" Eddie murmurs, almost brushing her hair off her face. But that feels too intimate. Even considering the circumstances.

"Have you... done this before?" she says, lips pursed and small as she fiddles with his belt.

"Um." To truth, or not to truth? That is to lose any and all hope of losing one's virginity. "I--"

"I haven't."

A little moment of silence hangs between them. That's not a bark. That's a real girl in there.

Eddie swallows, despite the precipice of opportunity. He finds his throat is very dry, sandpaper going down. That feeling-- it's a distinct sensory recall. A favor someone once did him at a birthday party.

Because Nicole's a dick, but she's still a person.

Not that she'd give him the same grace.

Oh well. Building his stairway to heaven, and all that shit.

"We don't... have to." He nods, resolutely. Partially for himself. He even puts a hand over Nicole's, where it lingers on his undone fly. "Seriously."

Nicole's eyelashes flicker and she stares at him for a drawn out beat. As if she's considering him. Really considering him. Outside of the bullshit dichotomy in which they live. A crease eventually settles in her brow, looking at him like, are you serious, loser?

"No, I obviously want to."

Want to with me? he nearly chances.

"Just don't be, like... weird about this after," she instructs. "It never happened."

"I'm not gonna. It didn't." That sounds too soft, so he snorts a little at the end.

Eddie barely has time to ask her if she's okay before it's lights out for him.

The most unforgettable thirty seconds of Eddie Munson's pubescent life up to that point begins with a scoff (his) and ends in a scoff (hers).

But that dog ceases barking for at least three weeks following. No biting in the hallway, no harassment in the parking lot. Even when Hagan sniffs around him, Nicole doesn't jeer on. She averts her eyes.

It's no declaration of love, but at least he got a free dinner out of it.

[falleri-salvatore]

So....

Am I the only who is imagining a married MILF Weiss to be even hornier and thirstier for her husband (DILF Jaune) than Bleiss could have ever been?

Because, I will admit; that would be both sweet (in that, unlike her younger self’s fears, her marriage turned out to actually be happy, healthy and “active” enough that it completely set the former Ice Queen’s heart and loins on fire) and hilarious (in that while DILF Jaune is absolutely doting and loving with his wife and their children, Weiss is the affectionately and even sexually aggressive one of the two; in full contrast with their Beacon selves).