#like towing that very fine line

[yrsonpurpose]

Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some.

[halalchampagnesocialist]

I won’t lie but I’m so sick of liberals on here saying you shouldn’t trust Al Jazeera as a source on Palestine when there are better ones. I’m sorry but Al Jazeera IS one of the better ones. It’s a well established fact that Al Jazeera can have awful, biased reporting when it comes to other issues or other countries, but on Palestine it’s great. Al Jazeera is one of the only news / media platforms that amplifies Palestinians. All its reporters are not only based in but are actually from where they’re reporting. Not to mention, it has multiple reporters on the ground in various parts of Palestine - in Gaza, in the West Bank, and in ‘48 (Israel). Al Jazeera does actually report what other news outlet say when it comes to Palestine too, it doesn’t obfuscate it like certain western media outlets.

Speaking of western media outlets, it’d be hypocritical to say don’t trust Al Jazeera when you probably get your reporting on Palestine from the New York Times or CNN amongst others. Those supposedly “independent” media companies which tow the US government line on Palestine and don’t question anything. So much of the reality on Palestine gets obfuscated by these outlets that they only report on things whenever israel is directly attacked. Al Jazeera on the other hand will report on daily occurrences in Palestine, not to mention publish analytical articles that analyse the occupation very closely.

Again, you may disagree with Al Jazeera’s positioning of things as well as questioning their motives (or Qatari gov to be more specific) etc and that’s fine! But to say they’re not the best source on Palestine when they’re one of the only ones amplifying Palestinian voices at a time when media reporting on israel from other outlets is absolutely dismal is ludicrous lol. As I said, I recognise AJ can have biased reporting on other issues, but just because an outlet has biased reporting on X issue, it doesn’t really cancel out the great reporting they may do on Y issue. I’m also aware that there are many other outlets who do great reporting on Palestine but AJ seems to have a decent sized audience in the English speaking world alongside its notably big audience in the Arabic speaking one.

It should also not be forgotten that Al Jazeera reporters Shireen Abu Akleh and Hamza Al Dahdouh were assassinated by israel while Hamza’s father Wael who is head of the AJ bureau in Gaza had his wife, grandson, and 3 of his children (including Hamza) killed by Israel due to their reporting, which means it counts for something.

[starzshopoflove]

Simon "ghost" Riley x Reader

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry

no thoughts just ghost meeting cute little civvie reader in a shop when he's just trying to get his shopping done after coming back from a mission just wanting to fill his fridge with enough beer and groceries that vaguely resemble food

Simon watching you struggle to reach the flour from a set high shelf in the aisle, grumbling to yourself about "who fucking needs flour anyway" still trying to reach it and he just pluck it off the shelf and drops it in your cart before making his way to another aisle and your just left looking stupid watching this giant trudge away with a little blue tesco basket in tow

Simon who notices you at the same book shop he frequents, but your perched behind the counter doing god knows what ( vaguely resembles inventory but hey do what you will) calculator in hand as he peeks from behind a bookshelf trying to remember where he's seen you before.

Civvie reader who passes her days working quietly in a book shop and living in a simple one room flat indulging her romantic needs in fiction too nervous to actually talk to men, fictional ones satisfying her needs better. That is until you see some books on the counter sliding over to scan them.

"Your total's 23.55" you mumble looking at the screen "Cash or Card?" you add before lifting your head to meet the brick wall of a muscle man. Oh OH, no thoughts as you just stare at his pecs in your line of sight thanking whatever god you believe in for the sight before you, better then anything your little brain could muster up even with the detailed descriptions authors would spit out onto the pages you read

You violently peel your eyes away from the most beautiful pair of man tits you've ever seen to see what man was the owner, and by god do you wish you werent so bad around men. I mean the wind practically got knocked out of your lungs as you let out a barely audible squeak watching this man fish in his pockets for his wallet

Messy blonde hair that was in that weird phase of curly but not really, a nose that looks like its seen a good fight, deep set brown eyes, and a few healed scars settled on the skin. Aged but like wine, a really really fine wine

"Right, cash" His hands fiddling through the wallet to pull out the bank notes, while you prayed you didnt look like a hunger dog staring at his hands as they placed the cash on the counter.

Simon who watches the little bookshop employee look like she just got punched in the gut and was trying not groan as she quickly rang him up, Do i smell? he thinks to himself

Simon who watches your smaller hands shuffle the cash into the register, noting how they're free of calluses, nailed neat and slightly grown, soft.

Simon who leaves the bookstore thinking of a excuse to go again tomorrow, not to see the bookshop girl or anything, he has his reasons!! he just hasn't thought of it yet!!

You start looking up from your notes for your class when the shop bell jingles hoping to see the mystery man whos built exactly like your favorite webcomic character but with the gruff and mature aura of that mc from the game your friend made you play that you cant quite remember. Only disappointed when its just another customer , until later in the day the man returns again.

But its much later in the day and you've switched on the shops warm lights, turning off the ac letting the place warm up as you hear the door jingle again, mystery man making his way to the counter your eyes following his every step, meaty thighs

You who perks up when his forearms settle at the counter suddenly eyes locking onto yours and suddenly very glad you tidied up a bit today, tinted chapstick, perfume, cleaner turtle neck, lashes, lipgloss, earrings ahm

"Tesco" he grumbles out unmoving

"what" well thats not what you were expecting to hear

"You were the girl , couldnt reach the flour yeah?" oh that was him

"Oh, that was you? thank you?" oh what the fuck were you supposed to say?? oh thank you freakishly tall man who watched me struggle?? let me take your whole cock in my mouth while you call me a good pet feeding your meaty length down my throat??

"Yeah" Simon didnt think to much on what to do now, gaze getting awkward now that hes got his confirmation

"Did you need anything" you finally broke the silence, god its fuckin tense in here and hes so close, you wanna just get a sniff but thats hardly workplace behavior doesn't matter if its your dads shop or not.

"Mhm, ye got any cook books?"

"yeah, section 12, shelf 9" whos he cooking for? his wife? i dont see a ring? maybe a long time girlfriend?? who wouldnt snatch up this actual beefcake

"Thanks, tryna cook something new for myself. Flats been quiet" He mumbled like speaking too much would give him a headache

SImon purchased his books same stare at the girls hand like last time as she took his money. God do something you look like a creep staring at this poor girls hands.

"Got a notepad luv?" again that same punched face returned, is she alright? he thought to himself

Oh he just called me luv oh fuck dont wheeze dont wheeze just hand him the pen and paper like a good employee, come on. Oh god dont stare at his arms, are those tattoos oh my god

Sliding back the notepad simon made pace of grabbing his cook book a slipping out the shop just as quick as he went in

You who looked at the notepad almost slipping back out of your chair

"Simon 44 xxx xxx xxx"

Children were singing, the angels sang their songs, the trees regrew in that parking lot down the street, healthcare in america was just made free, and you just got the phone number of a man built like a double door fridge that you have every intention of climbing

[lovings4turn]

☆ i like shiny things . . . (j.f.p.)

— a compliment from a stranger leads to something far sweeter than you ever could have predicted (2.5k)

+ contains: references to drinking and smoking, swearing

+ inspired by an event from my own life (though my paper ring making skills are pretty shit), hence why it seems quite rambly !! banner from cafekitsune

your head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, a combination of your high spirits and the two tequila shots you had just taken in quick succession coming together to create a hazy bliss that blanketed your mind.

the pub that your friends had dragged you into was relatively busy, most of the tables being populated with groups of people chatting happily over pints and cheap cocktails, the odd bout of raucous laughter travelling through the air. it wasn’t too loud though, which you were secretly grateful for. instead, the noise acted as a gentle soundtrack to your night, a soft buzzing to play behind your own enthusiastic conversation.

you hadn’t even really intended to go out tonight.

it was only supposed to be a few casual drinks with your friends, and then home to be curled up in bed by eight o’clock at the latest. but, denying the chance to spend an evening with your friends was something you could hardly ever bring yourself to do. it was rare that you all had the chance to hang out together, thanks to the painfully annoying existence of university and jobs, so it would be rude to shut the door on such an ample opportunity. plus, mary had some very convincing puppy-dog eyes.

a small booth in the corner of the room was your home for the evening, the soft leather lining of the seats only just making up for how sticky the table was thanks to many spilled drinks. every so often, you’d catch a grimace flash across someone’s face as their skin came into contact with the wood. as long as you kept your elbows by your sides, you would be fine.

just as you were swirling the remnants of your drink around, watching the last droplets mix with your melted ice in the bottom of the glass while you contemplated heading to the bar, marlene broke you out of your trance by suddenly jumping up.

she rushed to approach someone and threw her arms around the stranger in an embrace, already talking animatedly to them and their two friends. through squinted eyes, you took in the sight of the three men who you had never seen before, but marlene was evidently quite acquainted with. you wracked your brain trying to conjure up an image, a memory of marlene mentioning them before, but nothing appeared to you.

involuntarily, your eyes were drawn to one man in particular. he stood tall and broad, both hands in his pockets as he gave marlene a toothy grin and a nod in lieu of a greeting. it was clear he’d tried to tame the curls on top of his head, but a few dark strands had broken free, falling into his face every now and then to his clear frustration.

dropping your voice to a whisper, you dipped your head to position your lips next to lily’s ear, hoping that you were being somewhat inconspicuous. 

“who’s that?”

“i know the lad in the middle is sirius,” lily responded, turning to survey the group herself. “no clue about the other two. they’re fit, though.”

both of you laughed quietly at her final comment, though you were unable to deny it. all three men were incredibly attractive, but there was something in particular about the boy standing to the right of the group that charmed you.

before you could continue your train of thought, marlene was striding over with all three men in tow, gesturing with her hands for you all to budge up and make room for them to take a seat. some higher power must have felt particularly fond of you that evening, as the boy you were previously eyeing slipped into the booth next to you.

names and greetings were exchanged, and you learned that the boy marlene was initially talking to was, in fact, sirius, and he had brought his friends remus – a tall man with sandy hair and a charming, crooked smile - and james along with him, thanks to marlene’s requests. the pair hadn’t really seen each other in a while, and marlene was a firm believer in the statement ‘the more the merrier’, so it was no surprise that she had invited them along to join you.

sirius declared he was heading to the bar to buy the next round, shaking off everyone’s protests with a sly wink and the claim that it was no problem, he just needed marlene to come and help him carry everything. begrudgingly - and not without a lot of complaint - marlene obliged.

one round quickly became two, then three, and you’d began to lose count of how many drinks you had had. you’d maintained a pretty nice buzz over the course of the evening, thankfully never straying into the territory of being too drunk.

you were currently engaged in a conversation with james and dorcas, dorcas recounting a story about one of the many times marlene had gone above and beyond in flirting with her whilst you and james interjected every now and then. 

a rush of excitement travelled through you as you remembered a crucial part of the story, and so you began to retell it, gesturing wildly with your hands as james watched on. as he caught sight of the multiple silver rings adorning your fingers, a soft gasp escaped his mouth as his lips quirked up into a grin.

“those are cool,” he said, gently grabbing your hand and bringing it closer to his face in order to properly admire the jewellery. if he noticed how much your hands were shaking, he was polite enough not to mention it.

his eyebrows furrowed slightly, a clear indication of just how intensely he was studying your rings. not that you minded — james’ distraction provided a perfect opportunity for you to shamelessly stare at him, raking your eyes over every inch of his face. 

you were thankful that dorcas had been swept up into another conversation. if she had seen the way you were practically swooning over james, you would never hear the end of it.

this was the first time you had ever really appreciated the dim lighting of the pub, as the shitty overhead lamps caused james’ hazel eyes to look soft and honey-like each time they caught the soft glow. slight stubble dusted his chin, complementing his almost unfairly sculpted jaw, and your mouth grew dry at the fact that such an attractive man was essentially holding your fucking hand right now.

“i like this one,” he grinned, pointing towards your middle finger. 

following his motion, you looked over the ring that embellished a good portion of your finger. it was a newer one that you had picked up at a market a month or so before, and you distinctly remember being very proud of your find. the metal was bent to fashion the shape of a bull’s head, horns branching out and curling up to reach your knuckles. it was relatively chunky in comparison to some of your other rings, but that was one of the reasons you were so fond of it.

thanks to the tequila working its magic on your mind, you wasted no time in pulling it off of your hand and holding it out to him with a soft smile. “try it, if y’want.”

james delicately plucked the ring from the palm of your hand, briefly scrutinising his fingers to see which one would make the best fit. after a moment, he settled for sliding it down onto his ring finger, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he held his hand up to you.

“well?”

"suits you," you grinned. "y'should keep it."

“mhm, nope,” he hummed, beginning to pull the ring back off of his hand. “absolutely not. it’s yours, couldn’t take it from you.”

despite your protests that it was totally fine – though you knew your more sober self would regret it in the morning – james was adamant that you were to keep the ring, even going as far as to slide it back onto your finger himself. 

“there,” he smiled, patting your hand. “back where it belongs.”

to avoid looking at the soft grin on his face and likely making a fool of yourself, your eyes fell onto the table as you mumbled a thank you. a discarded straw wrapper caught your eye, the pale white standing out against the dark wood, and an idea quickly popped into your mind.

the concept of embarrassment was clearly muffled by the alcohol if next your actions were anything to go by. picking up the wrapper, you turned to james with a proud smile.

“pass me your hand,” you said. “got an idea.”

clearly either too amused or intrigued to refuse, james held out his hand for you, fingers splayed. with your tongue poking from the corner of your mouth, you delicately wrapped the paper around his ring finger, tying it just tight enough to be secure, before you attempted to fashion the ends into a mock imitation of the bull’s horns found on your own ring.

pleased with your work, you sat back with a smile and held your own hand out next to his so he could understand the solution you had come up with.

“there. now you have one, too.”

james let out a laugh, shaking his head fondly as he looked between the two ‘rings’ before turning his gaze to you.

“it’s my new prized possession,” he joked. “thank you.”

his teasing grin softened, and though you couldn't pinpoint the exact physical differences in his expression, something about his current smile seemed far more affectionate.

"oi!"

the friendly call snapped you and james out of whatever little bubble you had been sucked into, and you followed the sound to see remus standing at the pub's exit.

“coming, mate?” remus asked, a cigarette balanced between his lips as he held up the pack for james to see.

james shot remus a thumbs up in response, watching his friend walk out of the door that led to the smoking area, before turning back to you. his face bore a soft smile and his eyes glinted with something that you couldn’t quite place.

“i’m just heading out for a smoke, if you want to join?”

before you’d even really processed his question you were nodding, standing up and smoothing down your clothes as you followed him through the pub. a small laugh escaped your lips as he opened the door for you with an over-exaggerated bow.

the moment you stepped outside and moved to stand with remus, you regretted not bringing a jacket as the cold air nipped at your exposed arms. it was clear that your logic of ‘alcohol is the best jacket’ wasn’t always correct.

but as you registered james following close behind you, his musky cologne mingling with the faint smell of smoke, you would have gladly frozen to death if it meant he would be standing by your side during it all.

the flame of his lighter cast an orange glow across his face as he brought it up to the cigarette placed between his lips. he inhaled sharply, taking a long drag before tilting his head to face away from you as he let out a steady stream of smoke. he extended his hand to offer you a drag, and your fingers brushed his as you plucked it from his grip. 

remus raised an amused eyebrow at the two of you, yet said nothing, instead continued to smoke his cigarette with a smug expression that james pointedly ignored. 

you continued to pass the cigarette back and forth in a comfortable silence, appreciating being away from the muted commotion of the pub’s environment for a breather. you didn’t mind it, of course, but you couldn’t deny that a moment of peace and fresh air was necessary every now and then. 

the three of you stayed outside until your cigarettes had burnt down to the filter, and james crushed yours into a stray ashtray before approaching you with a smile. his arm flexed slightly, looking as though he was going to move it to settle around you before he decided against it, opting to keep it pressed firmly against his side.

a warm smile played on his lips as he cocked his head towards the door that led back inside. “shall we?”

and god, you’d be a fool to ever say no.

for the rest of the night, you were unable to tear yourself from james’ side. it was like he had some magnetic field operating around him that required you to be at least within a foot radius of him at all times. at the risk of sounding like a love-sick thirteen year old, fawning over someone you had met not even three hours prior, you were positively head over heels for him. 

every hearty laugh and off-hand comment caused your stomach to flip, and you were sure that by the end of the evening, james would have two holes burned into the side of his face where you had been unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

unbeknownst to you, everyone else was extremely aware of just how enamoured you were by james. lily and mary had already begun placing bets on how long it would take for you two to get together, and marlene had made more than one comment about how you should just get it over with and kiss already under her breath. 

as last orders were called, you were unsure how to feel. the comfort of knowing that your soft, freshly made bed was waiting for you at home was outshined by the fact you would have to say goodbye to your friends, and james. you thanked mary as she handed you your bag, pulling her into a hug and appreciating the floral smell of her perfume as she wrapped you in her arms.

everyone else was exchanging similar goodbyes, moving from one person's embrace to another and making promises to meet up again soon no matter what your schedules said. your friends had already arranged for a six-seater to pick you all up, but the boys were adamant they could walk home by themselves after they were sure you’d been picked up safely. the conversation had slowed slightly as the long night and multiple drinks caught up on everyone, and you stood in a comfortable silence until your ride arrived.

clambering into the taxi, you peered out of the window one last time and gave james a gentle wave, smiling as he returned it. even through the smudged windows, all you could focus on was one thing: the straw wrapper that remained tightly wrapped around his ring finger.

[ren1327]

Spoilers!

"Loser Baby" frame analysis (2/3)

(With lyrics)

Red = Husk

Pink = Angel Dust

Purple = Both

Normal = My commentary

[HUSK] We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a

Notice how Husk holds all four of Angel's hands. He leads him into a dance, his wings arcing around Angel as if to protect him when Husk twirls and spins him. Angel is surprised but goes with it. He's often pulled into things against his will, but Husk keeps his hold on his hands only and only holds, not grabs. Angel looks more surprised how gentle he is in this dance.

[ANGEL DUST] Coked up, dick-suckin' hoe?

[HUSK] Baby, that's fine by me

Everyone, almost everyone! Shames Angel for his vices: sex and drugs. To the point that he's taken it to the nth level from other's judgement. He even goes blank when Husk goes to answer him. But the old bartender assures him he doesn't care about Angel wanting what he wants. Once again. He cares about Angel dropping his porn star persona around him. He smiles, drops his lids and looks up at him. Almost like its a secret. Angel can enjoy what he enjoys around Husk, as long as its what he wants when he wants it. Husk doesn't want Angel to feel any shame around him.

[ANGEL DUST] I'm a loser, honey A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone

[HUSK] You're a loser

[ANGEL DUST & HUSK] Just like me

Angel embraces the fucked up situation he's in. But he knows he's not suffering alone now. While Husk often has lines under his eyes, Angel has some very subtle ones in the inner corner of his eyes and one between his brows. He's tired. And he's fine showing Husk he's tired.

Husk has his shoulders hunched up as far as they can go, while Angel is more so relaxed. Husk is supporting Angel's weight on him when they lean on each other. Sure, Angel may be lighter, but Husk is allowing him to rest on him both physically, mentally and emotionally. At this point, Angel is allowing Husk in: He's broken through his walls to meet Husk.

[HUSK] I got an appetite for gamblin'

While this started out as Husk's song, it's slowly become thier song. He has a spotlight on him while he sings.

[ANGEL DUST] I got an appetite for samplin' every drug and sex toy I can find

[HUSK] Go ahead baby, sing that song, come on!

But this time, Angel's spotlight stays on and Husk's spotlight doesn't come on or collide with his. His song is all Angel now. Angel is his center of his attention. Angel has suffered from his sexuality being judged by others, making all the violence he was answered with something he "asked for". Husk knows the difference here, even shows the difference in his words. He's fully embraced Angel and isn't shaming him for being sexually active. He's hyping up Angel and showing full support for who he is. "Sing that song, come on", as in "be who you are and don't you dare be ashamed".

[ANGEL DUST] I got no holes left to deflower

[HUSK] I sold my soul to save my power Now I'm on that demon's leash

They understand how desperate and messed up thier situations are. They're trapped under tow different overlords. Interesting note, Valentino's rope is spaced and disorganized. And they fade and fall off first, and a second later, Husk's rope unravel and fall. If this is from Husk's POV, he may believe Angel has an opportunity. That Angel can escape while he just has to deal with his situation until Alastor lets him go.

[ANGEL DUST & HUSK] I'm trapped and it gets worse with every hour

Husk is still supporting Angel. The lines under Angel's eyes cant be seen as well, as if he's finally relaxing. Even his shoulders are more relaxed.

Husk has gotten through to him.

[my-soupy-brain]

oh man imagine meeting ted a little earlier? when hen is younger and you're the first person the little boy really trusts in the uk?

I love this and I'm here for it. I think Henry would be so excited to get to know you. Perhaps you work at the club? His dad has a crush on you and Henry's the one to figure it out and encourage him. *rubs hands together* Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Pining and fluff

---

The first time Ted Lasso's little boy, Henry, came to visit the club, he was in tow with his mom and Ted's wife, Michelle.

And when Henry wandered the halls of the offices and found your office - your bright colorful space with toys on your desk - he knew you were someone special.

And someone very cool, at least to him.

"I'm Henry!" he said with a chipper smile one day, startling you from your work.

"Hi there, Henry! I'm Y/N! Nice to meet ya!"

Henry smiled and walked over to the other side of your desk.

"Where'd you get all these cool toys?" he asked with a bright smile and sparkling eyes.

You chuckle. "I'm a bit of a collector, actually. You can play with 'em if you want!"

Henry's eyes lit up brighter as he grabbed a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and the Ghostbusters station wagon and plopped down on the floor.

"Hen?" you heard Ted's drawl down the hall, worried.

"In here, Ted!" you replied brightly, smiling when the mustachioed man saw his little boy on the floor, zipping the toy car around him.

"Hi, Dad! Y/N let me play with their toys!"

Ted smiled and looked at you. "Uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean.. uh, he didn't mean..."

'It's OK, Ted."

Ted smiled and ran a hand through his hair nervously. His eyes looked red like he'd been crying. Something on his mind.

"Ted? You OK?" you asked politely and quietly, Henry still playing on the carpet.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a-okay. Thanks for askin'," he answered with a kind smile. "Hen, we gotta run. Your mom is packin' ya up so you can leave tomorrow."

Henry frowned and returned the toys.

"Thanks for letting me play!"

"Anytime, kiddo."

Your heart melted a little, having a little person around. Your friends back in the States had kids and you loved spending time with them. But moving here to the U.K. uprooted your life and you felt like you were starting over a little.

And your heart sank a little as you watched them leave your office.

In the nearly year you've been at AFC Richmond, Ted was by far your favorite person. He was gentle and kind, always listening. Funny and silly. Inspirational. Strong.

Your friendship had blossomed but you never crossed a line. He was married, after all.

...

Ted's divorce takes a toll on him. He knew things were rough before he came to England, but hearing Michelle say it's over was a stab in the heart. You comforted him the best you could. Assured him he's a good man, a great father, and that some chapters just need to close.

He was grateful for you.

You were grateful for him.

And six months later, when Henry visits against, he bops into your office with a smile.

"Guess what I learned at school this year?" he asked, plopping on your office softa, his feet dangling off the edge.

"What'd you learn? I can't wait to hear!" you answer, putting your work aside to spend time with Henry.

"I learned about whales. Did you know a blue whale is almost as long as a football field?" Henry asks with big eyes. "Well, American football..."

You chuckle. "I figured that's what you meant."

Ted said Henry asked about you every so often since his first visit to the club. Asking if you had gotten any new toys for him to play with. Funny enough, you started adding to your collection just for him.

"Whoa!" Henry says, as he approaches your desk. "New stuff!"

"Take your pick, kiddo!"

He grabs a few figurines and sits down to play with them again, while you tap away on your keyboard.

Ted rounds the corner, knowing full well where Henry is camped out when he's not in the office or the locker room.

"I knew I'd find the two of ya in here," Ted says, smiling.

"It's the Toy Club. Wanna be a member?" you ask with a wink, and Ted blushes a little.

He'd be lying if he wasn't, well, crushing on you.

You're good with Henry - it's clear he prefers you over almost anyone else he encounters at the club. You always ask Ted how he's doing, and you've even stopped by with his favorite coffee a few times. He leaned on you a lot after the divorce, and you were always there to catch him when he fell.

Ted takes a seat on the couch as Henry plays.

"Dad! I told Y/N about the whales we learned about in school!"

Ted nods and smiles. "You'll be preppin' people for Jeopardy in no time, Hen."

You laugh brightly at this and Ted looks over at you quickly and smiles. He likes the way your eyes light up and you laugh with your whole body. He wants to hear that sound again and again.

"So how's things," Ted asks, leaning back on your couch. You lean on your hands, your chin resting in your palms as you look across at him.

"Busy as a bee," you reply, "Nothin' new there. What are my two favorite boys up to this week?" you ask, writing something down on your notepad.

Ted's heart sings at this. Favorite...boys? Both of them?

"Uh, ah...well, not a whole lot. We're gonna check out Abbey Road this weekend maybe?"

You squeal.

"You're kidding! You know, since I've been here, I haven't made my way there! Let me know how it is. I bet it's magical."

Ted smiles and his face brightens. "Why don't you go with us? We'll get lunch at the pub and then go take a tour."

"YAY! Go with us, Y/N!" Henry squeals, eavesdropping on the invitation.

You blush. "Oh, that's so sweet, I don't want to impede..."

Ted waves you off. "Hush, I wouldn't ask if we didn't want ya there. Isn't that right, Hen?"

Henry pipes up. "Yeah! Please come with us! It'll be so cool!"

You can't say no to that precious little voice.

"I'll be there."

...

So that weekend, the three of you grab a little table outside Crown & Anchor and share some fish and chips, chocolate milk for Hen, and a couple pints for you and Ted.

Henry chatters away about school, winter break, and what he hopes to get for Christmas.

Ted watches you converse with Henry, answering him and talking to him like he's a little grown up. He watches Henry smile at you when you tell him your own stories.

By the time you make it to Abbey Road, Henry is about to jump out of his skin.

"I love the Beatles! Dad loves the Beatles, too!" Henry exclaims, bounding up the stairs to the door.

"I guess we all have that in common, then," you add, smiling.

In the studio, you get a tour of the recording rooms, the instruments played by rock legends -- and the Fab Four.

"Y/N, look at this!" Henry says, holding your hand and dragging you across the room.

"Wow! That's so cool! Let me get your picture!"

Henry poses with a big smile while you take out your phone, and Ted stands behind you and smiles.

Your phone rings and you step away to answer it and Henry returns to Ted's side.

"I like her, Dad," Henry says thoughtfully. "You should ask her on a date."

Ted looks at Henry with a quirked eyebrow.

"What makes you think I wanna go on a date with her?"

Henry shrugs and smiles. "I see how happy she makes you."

Ted looks over at you, wrapping up your phone call, a smile on your face. Professional and friendly, as always.

When you return to the boys, they're both grinning at you.

"What are you two smiling about?"

Ted shrugs. "Nothin'. Just havin' a good day. Thanks for coming along."

"Thanks for inviting me."

...

As the night wraps up, Ted and Henry walk you home.

"You two wanna come inside?"

"Do you have more toys in there?" Henry asks brightly. You chuckle.

"I have a few."

Ted nods and walks in with Henry, who heads into your living room and finds some toys on a shelf. "Can I play with these?" You nod and he plops down again and plays. Ted sits on the couch next to you.

"Thanks for this," Ted replies quietly. "I appreciate you -- not just for how you've helped me, but being a friend to Hen."

You smile as you watch him in his own little world of play.

"I'm happy to be here. I care about both of you so much."

Ted smiles at you, watching your eyes and how the light hits them as you watch Henry. How your cheeks smile. How your lips curl.

"Uh, can I use your restroom?" Ted asks nervously, running his palms down his khakis.

"Yeah, right down the hall."

He leaves the room and Henry stops and looks at you.

"My dad likes you, you know," Henry says, not looking up from his figurines.

Your heart thuds in your chest. "What?"

Henry nods and grins. "He does. He's just scared."

You smile. "He doesn't have to be. I like him, too."

Henry smiles again. "I know you do."

Ted returns to the living room and sits down and your cheeks are blushed and he smiles at you.

"Hen, we should probably get goin'. Get out of her hair, let her have her house and her toys to herself."

You laugh brightly, and Ted smiles.

"I don't mind, really. Anytime you wanna come over, I'm always open to my two favorite boys."

Henry smiles and runs off to the bathroom.

"So..." you say, just as Ted starts to talk. You laugh nervously.

"Do you..."

"Would you..."

You're both talking over each other again, and you smile again.

"You first," you offer.

"Would you like to go out sometime? With me? Just me, I should say," Ted asks nervously.

"I'd love to."

Ted's heart sings. He's not sure he's totally ready for a relationship. Not so soon after Michelle. But you're a friend -- more than a friend -- and it feels...right.

"Finally!"

Henry says as he rounds the corner.

"I thought he'd never ask!"

You burst out laughing, and Ted laughs, too. They stand to leave and Ted pulls you into a hug.

"Thanks for everything," he murmurs against your hair. Your body lights up as his hands hold your back, his breath against your neck.

"You're so welcome, Ted."

Henry reaches the bottom of the steps and looks back up at you both.

"If you go to Crown & Anchor for your date, get the chocolate milk. It's sooo good," Henry says with a cheeky smile.

"I'll remember that, Hen..." you answer and wave as he and Ted head down the street.

...

The next time Henry visits, you and Ted are in love. Henry smiles nonstop when he sees you interact.

How his dad always has his arm around you.

How you're always holding his dad's hand.

How warm and inviting it is to spend time with you both. How you both have the same jokes. And finish each other's sentences.

On the way home from dinner, Henry takes the bold next step.

"Dad? Can Y/N stay the night?"

You almost choke on the laughter you try to stifle.

"Hen... I don't think we need to..."

"I wanna have a movie night, and I want Y/N there. Please?"

You look at Ted, and Ted looks at you. Of course, you've stayed the night with Ted... not for movie nights, per se, but for mind-blowing lovemaking and the most incredible cuddles of your life.

Ted looks at you. "Up to you, sweetheart."

"Sure, I'd love to! What movie are we watchin', Hen?" you ask brightly, and Ted grabs your hand and holds it a little tighter as you make your way to Ted's flat. Henry rattles off a dozen movies he wants to see and why each one is his favorite, and Ted looks at you and smiles. He leans against your ear...

"When he knocks out mid-way through movie number two - and he will - we can do whatever you want," he murmurs with a husky drawl.

"Promise?"

Ted looks at you, checking you out. "Oh, I promise. Think we can be quiet?"

You chuckle as Henry bops ahead on the sidewalk. "Ms. Shipley's home right? We're gonna have to be."

---

I hope I did this justice because it could be so damn cute. So many directions. I loved this. I love curious, talkative little Henry. BE STILL MY HEART! Thanks for the prompt, friend!

[kookygranger]

what is my boyfriend towtruck!Eddie doing on this fine 4/20 weekend?

Haha, I’m the worst person to ask this, @storiesbyrhi can vouch, but I’m so glad you did. If we don’t include our own experiences in our stories then who are we? 

For you and our tow truckin' boy @bettyfrommars ✨

Warnings: 18+ thank you, swearing, mentions of masturbation, drug use

On this rare Saturday with nothing on your to-do list that couldn’t be put off, you’d decided to take advantage of the miserable weather and curl up with a book. 

That’s where you were when your phone rang. Tangled in blankets, a warm mug of tea on your bedside table, your apartment lit in warm lighting from the strategically placed lamps around the place.

Your head was still in the story that had captured you for hours when you answered.

“Heello?”

“Hey, baby.”

“Eddie.” Your voice lifts in soft recognition, but the boy is hardly anymore grounded than you in this moment. “Did you just get off?” You place your book pages down in your little nest and glance at the rain still pelting your windows, hoping Hawkins was a little more dry today.

“Well, uh…that’s kinda what I’m calling about.” 

His tone helps you drift back to reality, back straightening at the hazy slur of his words. 

“…are you high?”

You can practically hear the goofy grin over the line, “Wellll, it is four twenty.”

You glance at the red numbers on your alarm clock, “It’s 6:48.” Shit, you should really get something together for dinner. The breathy laugh that escapes him makes you smile.

“No, baby. I mean like, it’s the 20th of April. Four twenty, get it? I guess I forgot how much you hate holidays.”

“That’s not a thing,” you laugh. 

“It is! Very important holiday to us wasters I’ll have you know.”

There’s a pause as you search through your memories of the boy you’d only known briefly albeit intensely. “Eddie, I don’t know…I’ve never seen you smoke, I had no idea.”

You hear a shuffle on the other end of the line, and you imagine him straightening up in his bed as his voice becomes serious. 

“Oh, well yeah–it’s kinda like what I’m known for. I used to…” he clears his throat, “Well actually I dealt in high school. I guess Robin never told you that. I mean I don’t now! And I barely smoke anymore–well compared to what I used to–I’d never while I was working obviously–“

Your giggles cut off his rambling, “Eddie relax, I don’t care.” His exhale of relief shoots through your ear.

“Shit, sorry I panicked for a second there.” You laugh again. “Guess I’ll just have to bring some stuff up next time I see you sweetheart.”

“Oh, well…”

“Robin I don’t feel good.” Oh god there it is. How is this supposed to be a good feeling? “Oh my god you’re so pale.” “This feels really weird.” Are you sitting up or lying down? Why can’t you feel your shoulders? Have you ever been able to feel your shoulders? Are you sitting up or laying down? “Oh shit, I think you’re greening out.” “I’m gonna throw up.” “I don’t know what to do!”

“I tried it once and I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Bummer,” Eddie mumbles, “I thought it’d be good for your…”

“High functioning anxiety and chronic pain? Yeah me too.”

“Shit, sweetheart.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. I’m content with a cocktail at the end of the day.” 

The playfulness in Eddie’s voice returns and you can just picture the dimples that punctuate his next words, “Well you can have one now and we could uh, talk.” You’re about to ask him what he thinks you’re doing now. “You know I’ve been thinking about two things all day.” His voice drops an octave, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Ever since I got in that truck this morning all I could think about was clocking off when I could roll one and talk to you.”

It’s almost cute. Your initial reaction is lovesick, but there’s something in his tone that’s throwing you off. 

“Wait…Eddie are you trying to have phone sex?”

“…no?”

You cackle, “You are! That’s why you called me high off your ass.”

“It’s one joint baby, calm down.” He’s defensive. Bummed that his plan didn’t work.

“All of this ‘cause of a made up stoners holiday?”

“No! I just miss you alright?! Is that such a crime? Wanted to hear your voice instead of just imagining it like always.” You almost don’t catch the last sentence over your laughing.

“Aw, you think about me when you jerk off?”

He scoffs, “Of course I do. Don’t–don’t you?”

You hum, “Yeah like 95 percent of the time.”

“What?!”

“You know how I feel about Christian Slater.”

“Whatever, I’m just gonna hang up and enjoy my time in peace alright.”

“Aw no! Wait, I love you, jerk off to me talking about my day.”

“Fuck you.” 

Your laughter turns into hysterics when the phone rings eight seconds after he hung up. 

“I didn’t mean that.” 

“I know you didn’t. Shall we start again?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Hey Eds. Did you just get off?”

More towtruck!Eddie and city girl here ✨

[titaniasfairy]

WILDEST DREAMS

CHAPTER ONE

series summary: you hate anakin skywalker. but can you resist him during your week-long tropical trip with him?

cw: fem!reader, anakin is a dick, bickering, seriously anakin sucks, enemies to lovers, fuckboy!anakin, forced proximity trope, only one bed trope, eventual smut

chapter summary: your friends have planned a week long trip to some tropical island. only you’re forced to stay in a room with the man you hate most, anakin skywalker.

an: hi y’all it’s bear 🐻!! this is my first series everrrr omg i’m so excited. i’m such a sucker for enemies to lovers so i thought i’d write some. i’m not sure how many chapters this will be please enjoy!!

wc: 1.5k

———

god you hated anakin skywalker. you hated his stupid guts.

you hated the way he’d be so nice and caring to every one in your friend group— except you, of course.

they’d be laughing about some story anakin told (that wasn’t even that funny) when you’d open your mouth, only to regret it when his judgmental gaze met yours. your smile would immediately fade and you’d refuse to speak for the rest of the night. but anakin was just fine, engaging in flirtatious banter with other girls at the bar.

did he have to be obvious with his intentions? such a man whore.

you hated how he was good at everything. always offering to fix things for your friends, never charging them anything because he’s so selfless.

but obviously when you called your friend to say your car was having issues , their immediate response was

‘just call anakin! he’s fixed my car plenty of times. i’m sure it wouldn’t be a bother to him!’

you really didn’t want to call anakin, but you figured that there was no other choice. you stood outside your car on the side of the busy street. the wind was blowing and it was getting colder as the sun went down.

maybe your friend was right. maybe if you just called anakin he’d look at your car and give you a ride home. it wouldn’t be a bother, right?

oh but how it would be. you called 3 time only to go to voicemail each time. after what seemed like forever, you got a response when a mutual friend asked him to answer you.

“hello? anakin?”

“what do you want?” he huffed out, already tired of you without you even saying a word.

“anakin my car’s broken down. do you think you could come check it out?”

it was like you could hear his eyes roll through the phone. he’s so damn childish. he answered after a few grunts.

“maybe. where’s it at?” his voice was hesitant, he obviously did not want to help you at all.

“over by scott street..”

“seriously? that’s on the other side of town, dude. no way i’m going out there.”

you could hear a lighter spark on the other line as anakin lit up a cigarette. another thing you hated about him, that nasty smoking habit.

“anakin please! i can’t afford to take it in right now and i’ve got no ride back home, everyone’s busy.”

you didn’t know why you begged so hard to get him to help you. honestly, you could’ve called a local shop to tow your car and get it looked at. for some reason you were drawn to him and his rudeness.

“whatever, but you’re paying me for this.” he took a drag from his cigarette, and you could hear him exhale through the phone.

“thank you so much oh my god i don’t know what i’d do without you! i’ll pay you whatever you want i pro-“

anakin hung up the phone.

your relationship did not improve after this occurrence. you thought that since you two “bonded” over the silence of the ride back to your place , or since he sent you a very cut and dry message saying that there was something wrong with your alternator, or since you paid him through venmo that you two would get along.

but alas, you were wrong. in fact this only made you hate him more. what did you ever do to him? it’s not like you’ve ever been rude to him or anything. in fact he’s the one that’s rude. you should be the one acting like him!

why do you even care so much? you don’t want his attention. you’d rather die than have those gorgeous ocean blue eyes stare at you from across the room.

he’s not even worth thinking about. anything that leaves his mouth is just mean and crude towards you. mouth. anakin’s mouth. those plump pink lips that wrap so perfectly around a cigarette-

that too! why would you ever want someone with a nasty smoking habit. you bet his lungs are tar black and gross. another reason that you shouldn’t care about anakin skywalker.

but you can’t help but get a little excited when your friends say that they’ve planned a big trip for their spring break— a lavish vacation to some tropical island.

of course all of your friends were bringing their respective partners, so you were stuck to room with anakin. you wish you could deny the thoughts that rushed into your head when you were told this. there’d be optimal space and two beds so there’d be no need to worry, you were told.

you packed accordingly: skimpy swimsuits, breathable dresses, short cut jean shorts. you secretly wonder how anakin will react to your outfits. you also pack a number of headache pills and hangover cures. lord knows how drunk you’ll be over there.

maybe you’d be drunk enough to forget your stupid crush on stupid anakin.

———

today you would leave for the airport with your friends. jason would pick you all up from your places to carpool to the airport in his jeep with his girlfriend.

but of course, plans changed and now amy and brad would ride themselves to the airport. since jason doesn’t need all that room they’d just take his girlfriend’s car! but they can only fit the two of them and their luggage.

in summary, anakin would be forced to drive himself to the airport, along with you. another decision that your friend had to beg him to make. were you really that annoying?

you had planned to leave at 5:30 am to get to the airport at 6:00, which gave you enough time to board at 7:00 and arrive on the island at 10:00. this was all discussed thoroughly in the travel group chat so everyone knew what to do.

but anakin apparently didn’t see it. he gets to your apartment at 6:00 and the two of you barely make it to the airport in time to board and take off.

the drive was miserable. anakin was absolutely not a morning person, who didn’t listen to anything you had to say. the moment you’d get out a word he’d turn up his obnoxiously loud music on his stereo.

it wouldn’t have been a moment with anakin without his constant complaining, either. you were told how you “ruined this trip” for him with you going. anakin said he was supposed to bring some girl with him but was told there was no room since you were coming along.

you were in no mood to bicker, so you just stayed silent until you reached the airport. now you’d only have to deal with the stress of tsa.

thankfully, once you boarded the plane everything went fine. you were seating next to an older couple who just renewed their vows, and other than the old man’s occasional snoring there really wasn’t an issue.

as the plane landed you noticed the beautiful scenery on the island. the pretty trees and clear blue waters under a cloudless sky made you excited for the week to come.

the itinerary jason’s girlfriend made said that you were to check in around 11:30 and hang around the resort area until 7:30 where your group would have a dinner on the beach.

the resort was absolutely stunning. with a perfect view to the beach, it was like you were in a castle by the sea. inside the lobby were beautiful marble statues and detailed artworks hung on every wall. how did your friends afford this?

after what felt like standing in line for hours in the check in line, you finally found yourself in front of the door to your room that you and anakin would share for the week. you entered the key and the door unlocked, leading you to a beautiful sunlit room with a window looking onto the water.

only this didn’t look like the room on the website. there was only one bed. well actually, there was a bed and a pullout couch but there was no way you would be sleeping on that. your back would probably ache for the whole trip and that is one thing you will not have.

you called the front desk and told them about the issue, only to be told that there was nothing they could do. the resort was too overcrowded when the booking was made and they had to switch you over into a smaller suite.

thankfully, anakin had not arrived yet so you placed your bags on the bed as a way to mark your territory. ‘first come first serve, skywalker.’ you thought.

you could only imagine what he was doing. maybe he got lost or something, the man couldn’t make his way out of a wet paper bag. or maybe he’s flirting with the front desk attendant. you could only pity the girls that fall in line with anakin.

with all the rush this morning and the exhausting flight, you decided to get a little rest for awhile. you close the curtains to give yourself some darkness and get in the queen-sized bed.

the bed was soft and extremely comfortable with fluffed pillows and breathable sheets. for a second you imagine what it’d be like to lay in bed with anakin, what’d it feel like to wake up next to him in the morning.

but that’s ridiculous. you have no reason to be with anakin, even though he definitely doesn’t want you in the first place. eventually, your thoughts subside and the sound of the waves outside calm you to sleep.

[xelizabethvalentinex]

He’s a Piano Man // Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Summary: A handsome man shows up at your work only to distract you

Word Count: 1.4k

You weren't one to brag, but your life was going pretty awesome. You had a boyfriend who worshipped the ground you walked on; You two shared a cute little house that was the perfect size for you guys; You had a job where you got to see a wide variety of people. Overall, life was perfect in your eyes and tonight was no exception.

You were working late at The Hard Deck on a Friday night, and it was busy. There were men and women in uniform all over the place. Some locals were having a date night, and there were plenty of regulars. By nine o'clock, the bar was packed. You were behind the bar for the most part, but when it came time for your server to take a lunch, you were running drinks to seated customers. Currently, you were taking a break while Penny ran the bar. You needed a breather before the chaos started.

Once you finished taking some deep breaths and counting to ten a couple of times, you pulled yourself out of the walk-in and headed back to the front. Penny informed you it was your server's turn to take her break. As she walked toward the back, you took another deep breath before settling in. Mostly, the pilots were busy playing pool and darts, but that didn't mean they weren't ready for more drinks.

As you headed towards the pool table, you noticed a very handsome man sitting with a woman, 'Phoenix,' as her name tag said, three men, 'Hangman, Bob, Fanboy,' and another woman called 'Omaha.' He was glowing. A gorgeous tan graced his clear face, a mustache that looked straight out of the 80s, and a tacky Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to show off his toned chest. He had aviators hanging from his white tank top, but you knew he was in the same profession as the rest of the bunch. That didn't help with your attraction toward him.

You put on a polite smile before asking for their drink order. Everyone was sweet, joking with you and smiling. It helped with your nerves. It was all going fine until you got to the hot man with the bright smile. "How about I get your number?" He asked with a smirk, looking at you like a puppy.

You pressed your lips into a tight line. "Sorry, Lieutenant. I don't give out my phone number, especially when I don't even know your name," you said politely, not wanting to come off as rude.

"My callsign is 'Rooster,' but you, sweetheart, can call me Bradley," he stated. It made you laugh, this confidence he had. It matched his looks, but it was refreshing. The rest of his group seemed shocked.

"Are you always this flirty with your waitresses?" You asked as you started to collect the empty glasses that littered the table.

He chuckled. "Only the ones as pretty as you," he replied. You scoffed before walking away. You put the order in with Penny, who also laughed when you recalled the events to her and headed to the other occupied tables. They were all nice too. Everyone was sure they were loud enough to be heard over the blaring music but not screaming at you. You never had a problem with any customers, but Bradley was the only one to flirt with you so openly.

When it came time to get the fresh drinks back to the group of pilots, your server was back from break and ready to work. You let her run drinks while you maintained the bar once more, and Penny began restocking glasses and ingredients. The flow continued throughout the rest of the night. You made drinks, the server ran them to tables, and Penny helped the two of you when needed.

It wasn't until almost midnight when Bradley approached the bar. He came up solo, no wingman or woman in tow. As soon as you finished serving the customer you were on, you turned to him, smiling. "How can I help you, mister pilot?" You asked, leaning against the bar to get closer to him.

"I was coming to check on you, make sure no one was hassling you. I know how much of a handful these locals can get," the man replied. "It'll only take so long before someone asks for your name and takes you out on a date."

He was good at making you smile. "Let me guess. You want to be the first?" You questioned as you started cleaning some of the glasses. By now, the bar crowd had lessened, but the remaining ones were still having a good time. You could tell by the boisterous laughter and singing going on. You would be closing in about an hour, but everyone knew that.

"It would be an honor," Bradley said, looking at you with a fond look. It was like he was feeling the same attraction you were feeling to him.

"As I said, I don't give out my phone number to strangers, but you can have my name if you do something spectacular," you stated as you put down a clean glass. You returned to your spot across the bar from him, so close you could smell the cologne he was wearing. It was intoxicating.

He gave you a look before asking, "And what would that be?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know. That's for you to decide and me to find out." With that, you gave him another drink and went to help other customers. You could see he was in shock for a little while before he smirked, coming up with something to wow you, and headed toward his friends.

You must've got distracted because the next thing you knew, the music from the jukebox cut out, people started groaning, and you stopped pouring a drink in surprise. Suddenly, the piano started playing. You looked at the source to find Bradley, his back to you. He began playing the opening to "Great Balls of Fire" expertly. Once he started singing, no one complained. Everyone started singing with him, and you were captivated. This performance was something spectacular.

Immediately after the song ended, he looked over at you, a fresh coat of sweat covering his face and chest, but that made him even more enticing. He looked smug, but not in an 'I have a huge ego, and I'll do anything to get in your pants' type of way. He knew he had completed his task.

Everyone continued to laugh and enjoy themselves without the piano. Someone plugged the jukebox back in, but that didn't compare to the singing done by Bradley.

It was almost closing time when you got to speak with Bradley again. His friends were still sitting at the table they grabbed earlier, but he was walking towards the bar.

"Sorry, Lieutenant. The last call was ten minutes ago. No matter how good you can sing, you can't get anything else to drink," you told him as you counted your drawer.

"I think you know what I'm here for, darling," the man said. You could feel him staring at you. It set your body on fire. He did things to you you've never felt before. You turned to face him. His face was flushed, pink from the alcohol in his system. As you moved in his direction, you could see his friends watching the two of you. Your following actions were what made their jaws drop.

You leaned across the bar and pressed your lips into Bradley's. The alcohol on his lips made your head spin, but that also happened every time the two of you kissed, so you weren't sure which was affecting you more. When you pulled away, his eyes were still closed, but he was smiling. You could hear his friends cheering him on across the bar. "You think they figured it out?" You asked as he opened his eyes.

Bradley chuckled. "I think they figured it out when you called me Lieutenant. I did enjoy singing for you, though," he said.

"I've always loved your singing. So, are you coming home with me tonight or letting your friends drive you back?" You still had to clean up and lock up, but your boyfriend was more than welcome to help you get out faster. He turns his head over his shoulder before nodding. His friends got the message and started to head out. They all said 'thank you and goodbye' before doing so, but soon, it was just you and Bradley in the bar. "That answers my question."

The two of you worked along to the music. You wiped down the bar and remaining glasses while Bradley moved the crates left outside. Once you finished, he pulled you into his embrace by your waist and kissed you passionately.

"Let's go home, angel."

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

Can I get Noah X Female Autobot reader. Where Noah had a car way before he met Mirage, but it didn't really last long and after a while it didn't start anymore. Then when Noah brought Mirage to the garage, Mirage looks at the car for a second before telling Noah about you, and smiling and giving you the 'okay' to transform. Then the reader goes to her regular form (slightly taller than Mirage), yawns and looks around before saying something along the lines of "Finally. About fucking time…" Then she notices Noah, picks him up and she glared at Mirage, "Prime better have approved of this, Mirage. Or else…"

Warnings: Swearing.

When Optimus told you to hide away, you never expected to become a regular mode of transport for humans. You had taken form of a vehicle you thought was simple and plain enough, and stayed parked in a warehouse. You assumed it would be safe, humans had not used the warehouse for years.

Unfortunately what you didn't realize, was if humans didn't use buildings they were soon destroyed. Thank Primus humans examined the building first before knocking it down. They found you inside, towing you away. Being towed is an experience you never wish to experience again, but you had to endure it. Optimus made it very clear not to be seen and let your identity be known. So you allowed yourself to be dragged through the streets, a hook uncomfortably attached to your rear frame.

You were taken to an auction yard. There you allowed so much more happen to you, for the sake of obeying Optimus. You let them break into you, you let them clean you, you let them make a key that worked for your 'ignition'. In reality you just turned yourself on whenever they stuck that piece of metal into an empty space around your steering wheel.

You then allowed them to write a number on your window and show you off to other humans. It didn't take long to realize they were trying to sell you off. You watched humans arrive, get shown a car, then drive the car away obviously the new owners. Some humans looked fine and normal, but others looked disgusting, and every day you prayed to Primus they would not be the ones to buy you.

After a couple days it happened. The salesman walked over to you, showing you off to another human.

This one didn't look too bad, his appearance was clean and he asked a lot of questions that made it seem like he knew a thing or two about cars. You could work with this one.

The human bought you.

"Congratulations Mr Diaz, I know you'll be very happy with this one." The salesman said, handing over the keys.

"Thanks." Mr Diaz took the keys, got into you and turned the key in the ignition. You turned yourself on, running smoothly and allowed the human inside you to drive you away.

You liked this one. Noah. You found out his name after being shown off to his friends, they congratulated Noah on the new car. They all asked for rides, which he declined saying he wants to keep his car new looking for a little while. You liked that, it seemed like Noah was going to take care of you and you were happy about that.

He stayed true to his word, keeping you new looking for as long as he owned you. He regularly washed you, and never let anyone eat inside you, even his brother. Noah cared for you and kept you safe, even doing his best to park you carefully so no one will accidently scratch you.

After months of such good treatment, Noah became your favorite human and you began to look forward to him driving you. You liked to listen to his music, you liked to learn about his likes and dislikes as he talked to his friends. You began to love the way he talked to himself, and how he talked to you. He thought of you as just a car, but he treated you as more than one. He talked to you while he washed you, he explained where he was going, promising not to leave you parked alone for too long. His voice became a comfort, something you enjoyed and wished you could hear all the time.

And you couldn't deny the fact you enjoyed his gentle touches. Even when he was mad, he never took it out on you, and if he gripped the steering wheel too tightly he'd loosen it and give your wheel a little tap, as if apologizing. He was your driver, your human, and you thanked Primus he was the one who got you.

You really didn't mean to stop working. You were happy with Noah, and you would have been happy to be his car forever. Unfortunately it just didn't work out. It was an accident, you knew it was, but it still sucked.

One particular night, Noah took you to a scrap yard. He was picking up some pieces for his side projects. Your headlights were working fine, and he was paying attention, but neither of you noticed the piece of metal hidden among the dust on the floor. That was until you ran over it. The sharp jagged edge of the metal flying up and connecting with one of your hoses, oil immediately beginning to leak out. You almost yelped out in surprise, but managed to catch yourself. Noah immediately got out and inspected the damage.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't see it. Damn, well I guess I need to go find a new hose for you huh? Don't worry, I'll get this patched up." Noah explained, patting your side gently.

You wanted to tell him not to worry about it, that you would fix yourself. But you couldn't. You had often thought about telling Noah about yourself, letting him in on the secret. But Optimus' words rang through your processor and you ultimately decided not to. So you kept quiet, and you would stay quiet even letting Noah fix you even though he didn't need to.

It took a day. Noah replaced the hose, drained out all your oil, then replaced it with brand new oil. Which for any normal car would have been great. Unfortunately for you, it was not the typical oil you were used to. It was Earth oil, made of slightly different stuff. And though technically it did work with your systems, it wasn't the same as your old Cybertronian oil. It made you feel more sluggish and slow, and not at full attention. It was going to take a while for systems to get used to the new oil. It was possible for your systems to learn how to appropriately use this new oil, but that was the problem, it would take a while.

Your performance while driving began to change, you couldn't reach the speeds you used to, and you wouldn't turn on as quickly as before. Noah noticed and tried to fix these problems but couldn't. What you really needed, was to let your systems figure themselves out. Noah had a family trip coming up, he was going to be gone for a whole weekend. It was a risk, but you decided to sleep, hoping your systems would take in the Earth oil and reboot so you could be used to it. So, the day he left, you let yourself go into recharge.

~~

"Come on. Come on, turn on." Noah begged, turning the key in the ignition. The starter clicked, but nothing. He tried one more time, turning the key.

'Click, click, click'

Nothing. The engine didn't roar to life, no matter how hard he tried his car would not start.

"Dammit." He cursed. This was his car, his first car. He wanted to keep it around. He knew it was having problems, but he didn't realize it was this bad. He sighed in disappointment. "I guess this means I'm walking again huh." He tried to laugh, gently holding the steering wheel. He was going to miss this car.

~~~

"So, this is where the magic happens huh?" Mirage asked as they pulled up to the garage.

"I guess you could say that." Noah chuckled. "I would call it magic, other people would call it a garage full of hopes and dreams and scrap."

"Well let me see, maybe I could help you with the scrap."

Noah opened the large garage door, allowing Mirage to drive in. Mirage saw you almost instantly.

"Well, look who we have here." He said in surprise, he hadn't heard from you since they landed on Earth. He was a little worried you had not answered Optimus' call, but he stayed hopeful you were alright. And here you are. Noah stepped out of Mirage, taking off his coat and placing it on his chair. Once the door was closed Mirage transformed and stepped closer to you.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" Mirage asked you. Noah looked at Mirage in confusion, then looked at you.

"Uh, who are you talking to?" He asked.

"Them of course." Mirage pointed to you.

"My old car? They're not a bot." Noah paused. "Are they?"

"Sure they are. Oh, but this doesn't mean all cars are. I guess you're just lucky, getting two bots." Mirage laughed then crouched down by your side. He poked your hood.

"You can get up now."

"They haven't started in ages. That's why they're in here, I've been trying to figure out how to start them again." Noah explained.

"Hm." Mirage pondered, occasionally poking you. He checked your EM field, feeling that you were in recharge. He laughed then gave you a friendly shock to wake you up.

Your systems had finished rebooting themselves ages ago, but it had not woken you up. A slight fault in your processor, much the same as a human sleeping through their alarm. You felt the shock, and recognized it from your friend Mirage. You could feel his own EM, telling yours it was safe. So out of instinct you transformed. You stretched out, letting your joints expand after being stuck in alt mode for so long.

"About fucking time." You said, briefly forgetting where you were. Your optics came online. They spotted Mirage, then scanned the area around you, finally coming to land on Noah. Your memory banks sparked, and everything came quickly back, loading your processor with what had happened. You remembered Noah, your owner. And you remembered going into recharge. How long had you been out for? That question was not important right now. You turned your attention to Mirage, slightly looking down at him.

"Prime better have approved this Mirage, or we're going to have problems." You stated, resting your servos on your hips.

"Relax it's all good. Prime knows about all of this. This is Noah, but I have a feeling you already know that." Mirage smiled. You looked down at Noah and smiled. You knew Noah, you knew him very well. More than he knew of you. As if he was an old friend, you picked him up, lifting him to your optic level.

"Hi Noah." You smiled.

"Hey." He said, a little unsure of the situation. He was trying to process the thought of his first car being an Autobot this whole time.

"I wanted to introduce myself before, but Prime's orders were very strict." You explained.

"I get that." Noah nodded. "My question I want to know is, why did you stop working?" He asked, and you could have sworn you heard a bit of sadness in his voice. Your spark ached, you had not wanted to stop working. You gently put Noah back down and crouched down to his level.

"I'm so sorry about that, it wasn't my intention at all. Remember that leak? When we ran over that piece of metal at the scrap yard?" You asked. Noah nodded. "Well, you replaced my oil with Earth oil. Which technically bots can use, but it takes us some time to get use to it. When you went away, I tried to rest and let my systems adjust themselves. I guess I went into recharge and didn't notice you were trying to start me again. I'm sorry." You explained. You were sad, you had wanted to be the first bot Noah ever saw. But it seems that title was taken by Mirage. You were happy to know Noah could see you now, but you were still disappointed.

"It's ok." Noah stepped close to you, placing a hand ontop of your servo. He looked up at you and smiled. "I'm just glad you're ok. Knowing your a bot, and your alive it makes up for it all. I was just worried you were never going to work again and I would have to-" He stopped himself before saying, 'get rid of you'. As if he couldn't say it.

"You kept me in here this whole time?" You asked. Looking around the garage.

"Yeah." Noah admitted, his face getting a little red. Your spark swelled. He kept you, he really kept you. Probably trying his best to fix you. It hurt because you wish you hadn't put him through that, but it showed you that he cared about you. And that made you feel happy.

"This is great, my old friend, my new friend, now we can all be bros and hang together." Mirage cheered. You and Noah laughed.

"I am quite interested to know how your first experience was seeing one of us." You stated.

"Oh that's such a good story, so there I was right. Just chilling in this nice garage." Mirage started.

"Uh Mirage." You stopped him.

"Yeah?"

"As much as I missed you, and it's nice to see you. I think I would like to hear this story from Noah."

"You hearing this? It's been years since we've seen each other but now you're in the picture I'm pushed to the side." Mirage acted hurt, but he understood. He could see the way the two of you looked at each other, he could feel the energy in the room. Old friends reunited, and it wasn't him and you. "Fine, go ahead Noah." Mirage made himself at home, finding a place to sit where he could watch as you and Noah caught up.

You and Noah talked for hours. You had sat down, then picked Noah up and placed him on your knee. He sat comfortably on your leg, a hand on your metal, looking up at you as he talked. He told you all about his experiences after meeting Mirage. You told him all about your history, about everything you went through up until the point he bought you.

"So, after I bought you. You were with me through everything?" Noah asked.

"Yep." You nodded.

"You could hear me talking?"

"I could, and I enjoyed it. You kept me company, even if you didn't realize you were." You smiled. Noah smiled too, patting your leg gently. Then his smile wavered slightly as he remembered something.

"You were there for the car washes huh?" He asked blushing. You laughed.

"I was yes. I appreciate how well you clean, I always looked beautiful and brand new afterwards." Your words made Noah smile.

"Yeah I do a pretty good job." There was a brief silence between the two of you.

"Noah. I want to apologize once more. I didn't realize I would be gone for so long."

"Hey, it's ok, you don't have to apologize. It was my fault. I shouldn't have put different oil in you." Noah expressed.

"But you didn't know. Because I didn't tell you. I should have trusted you and shown myself to you."

"It's fine that you didn't. I understand why. And I mean, look where we are now. Sure maybe you weren't my first bot. But you were my first car, and that will always be something special for me." Noah looked up at you, a grin on his face.

"And you will always be my favourite human." You smiled in return. "And I look forward to the future, and getting to know you, for real this time."

"Aw, you guys are so cute." Mirage commented. You had almost forgotten he was there. "Us three will have a lot of fun together I'm sure."

Sure, you probably did have to include Mirage too. But you didn't mind. You were just happy to be back with Noah. And now you could fully enjoy his company, and become real friends getting to know each other properly.

[serendipitous-imagines]

Could you write headcanons for jjba Bruno, Abbacchio, Fugo, Narancia, and Giorno being protective of their bf? Either around an enemy stand user or just general protectiveness is fine >///< Male reader please

Thank you so much for the request! This is my very first request on this blog and I am so excited for it!! I hope this is perfect for you~ I absolutely adored writing the boys and I had so much fun thinking of all the scenarios of what they would do!!

~ Love, Mod Jay

BRUNO BUCCIARATI

✦ Bruno’s protectiveness over you often shows itself in the form of him holding your hand ever so tighter than usual and a constant biting of his inner cheek or his lip. His body gets subtly tenser, only you would be able to notice it.  ✦ Bruno has trained you before on what to do if there was an enemy stand user attacking you, but even he gets shaken seeing that you could possibly be in danger. He will start commanding members of his team the best he can because he wants to ensure nothing can get you or hurt you, and while he trusts his teammates, he trusts himself more to protect you. ✦ He gets intensely focused on protecting you, even when he has a large pit of worry in his stomach. He will always focus on you and wrap himself around you. If the enemy stand user starts to charge towards you, he will throw his body between the both of you and open a zipper to slide you inside with him. ✦ When you return home, Bruno will insist on relaxing. He will draw a hot bath for the both of you and pour a couple glasses of wine. The rest of the day is devoted to taking care of you and checking to make sure you are okay. It is usually how Bruno copes with the leftover protective feelings.

LEONE ABBACCHIO

✦ Abbacchio is constantly in Protection Mode when it comes to you. He never lets you leave his line of sight on a normal day and will somewhat follow you around to ensure that you are safe and you are not getting wrapped up in some sort of danger.  ✦ When you are being attacked by an enemy stand user, Abbacchio will put his body in front of yours and keep a hand pressed to your lower back to keep you closer to him. He will keep his body facing the enemy stand user and their stand, never giving any opening to your body to get hurt by the stand.  ✦ Abbacchio tends to get a little snappier and blunter than usual with his teammates when he is protective over you. But with you, he speaks quietly and softly to you, often reassuring you that it’s okay and he will be the one to keep you safe, nothing will get you when he is here.  ✦ After the danger is gone and Abbacchio has (kind of) calmed down, he typically gets a little embarrassed because of how intense he was acting. Even though he is a little grumpy, he checks in with you and holds you a little tighter than usual for the next few days (and you may need to reassure him a few times).

PANNACOTTA FUGO

✦ When Fugo is protective he gets eerily quiet and his expression is much darker than it would usually be when he is upset. His grip on you gets very tight and he holds you to his side like you are practically super-glued to him. He basically snarls at anyone who would dare come close to you when he feels so protective of you. ✦ Whenever you are standing face-to-face with an enemy stand user, Fugo does not hesitate to release all of the anger he is feeling from you being frightened. He will rush into a fight and attack whilst keeping you in his line of sight. More times than not, Purple Haze will come out and start growling and attacking the enemy (and Fugo is pulling you as far away as possible so you aren't affected by his stand). ✦ Fugo curses a lot and growls- sometimes he says things he gets a little louder than he intends to because he is so pissed about someone even trying to hurt him. "I know you're desirable and all but can't they just FUCK OFF". ✦ After the enemy stand user is defeated and you both retire back to the base, Fugo usually paces around outside with you in tow. He will typically pull you behind the building to angrily kiss you and get possessive of you without any of the others seeing him.

NARANCIA GHIRGA

✦ Narancia is extremely clingy when he gets protective over you, often grabbing your hand and tugging it to his side. He tries to hide how protective he gets by talking louder and pulling you away from the danger you are close to, usually tugging you along to go walk around with him. He tries to make it as smooth as possible to show he isn’t being protective, but it is very obvious. ✦ Because his stand is a long-distance stand, Narancia is keeping you as far away as possible from the fighting. He will pull you into his lap to sit while he flies Aerosmith around. Narancia will make Aerosmith fly around the both of you to make sure nothing is sneaking up on the both of you. ✦ His legs bounce a lot when you are in immediate danger and he will often let out little yells and fling his arms around. Sometimes he will flash his life and call the enemy to stand user as many insults as he can think of. Once the enemy stand user is defeated and is on the ground, he will typically stomp on their body and jump on it while cursing them. ✦ Narancia goes back to his typical self fairly quickly after the incident, but he does have a huge spike of energy that you usually have to go along with. He will be clingy as he always is but now you are forced to go to the arcade with him (where he might let you win to make you feel better if you are still feeling afraid).

GIORNO GIOVANNA

✦ Giorno's eyes will always narrow whenever he feels protective of you. His breathing will also get heavier and he follows people around with his eyes more. Giorno trusts no one and whenever he feels like you could be in any immediate danger, he is ready to spring into action at even the slightest sign that something could happen. ✦ Giorno would be immediately involved in the fight with a burning passion to him. He would leave you with another one of the members of the team (typically Mista) so you are directly out of dangers way. His head will often turn to look at you and make sure you are okay. Seeing you in danger makes him fight harder and get a tad bit more cruel in his fighting style. ✦ If you get hurt, Giorno will run over to you immediately and take care of you. His arms will wrap around you and he will speak to you in a quiet voice and ask you how you are feeling while he heals your injuries. ✦ When you both return home, Giorno will pull you into an embrace and run his hands all along your body to check for any injuries. He gets pretty clingy to you in private and just wants to keep his hands on you until he can get the thoughts of you being hurt or taken from his mind.

[trensu]

okay, so it turns out that the hawkins halfway house fic is going to have six chapters, actually. i'm not gonna post anything on ao3 until i have the final chapter done. i'm currently working on that sixth chapter, but here's the rest of chapter five in the meantime.

Continued from here

-

The man chuckled goodnaturedly. “Didn’t say you were. What’s your name, son?”

“Steve,” he replied. The man chuckled again.

“Thought so,” the man said. At Steve’s questioning gaze, he shrugged nonchalantly. “You look like a Steve. I’m Wayne. Why don’t you come inside? The kids made a batch of lemonade earlier today and there’s a phone you can use to call a tow.”

Which was how Steve found himself seated at a dining table that seemed too large to fit in the room even though he and Wayne were clearly able to move around the place without crowding one another. Maybe the table looked bigger than it was because of the multiple frosty pitchers of various sizes haphazardly lined up on it. Each one seemed almost dangerously full. Steve was sure one unexpected bump would turn them into a river of lemonade.

“That’s…a lot of lemonade,” Steve commented.

“A couple of the kids’ friends are visiting,” Wayne said. “We don’t see them very often. One of them learned a new trick to keep things cold. He was only going to do one pitcher, of course, but you know how kids are. Everyone wanted to make their own lemonade and told Will he had to do it again for each one.”

Wayne used a potholder to grab the handle of the nearest pitcher of lemonade. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say the pitcher was coated by ice half an inch thick. Obviously the pitcher had to be made of fancy decorative glass like the kind his mother would’ve bought. Wayne poured two glasses of lemonade, handing one to Steve which he took gratefully. Wayne eased himself into one of the chairs. Steve joined him. He drank half the glass before asking.

“So where are the grandkids you’ve been chasing? The house seems pretty quiet for that many children,” Steve nodded at the series of pitchers.

“They’re not my grandkids. I’m not as lucky as all that,” Wayne said. “I’m just here to lend a hand where I can.”

“A volunteer? Is this like a daycare?” Steve asked, trying not to seem too eager. This could be something. It wouldn’t be parenthood, but maybe he could volunteer to help kids in some small way. He’ll have to look into that later. Robin would help him find something, he’s positive.

“...you could say that, I suppose. As for your other question, they’re all out back, probably in the woods burning off energy with some of the grown-ups supervising.”

“Well, I’ll try to be out of your hair before they come back,” Steve stood, taking both of their glasses to the sink and rinsing them out. He waved Wayne away when he protested about guests doing chores. “If you could tell me where your phone is to call a tow truck, you don’t have to get up.” 

“Son, I don’t need no mollycoddling,” Wayne said gruffly. Steve flushed.

“No, that’s not–I didn’t mean–” Except he did. Wayne had been out in the heat and sun with him for who knows how long, risking heat exhaustion for a total stranger. It was also evident in the way he moved that he had some joint pain, particularly in the knees. Steve sighed. “Heat exhaustion is no joke. I used to be a lifeguard, it can get pretty bad for, uh, people of your age group.”

“You’re as bad as my boy, I can already tell,” Wayne said. “Thank god Eddie’s out there with the kids or he’d give me a talking to, as if he had a leg to stand on. I’m able to get around just fine without anyone’s hovering.”

“Uncle Wayne,” a soft solemn voice interrupted. Steve jumped when he saw a kid at the dining room entrance. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

“Jesus,” Steve muttered to himself. “Pay attention, Steve.”

The kid had shorn dark hair and big eyes. They wore a dress that looked like it’d been owned by at least two kids previously, and a pair of old light-up sneakers. They held a cane in their hands.

“Well, hey there, little miss,” Wayne greeted jovially. “Do you need anything, El?”

“You forgot your cane,” El said each word carefully. She walked up to Wayne, leaned the cane against the dining table, and held his large hand in her two small ones, as if to reassure him. “Let Steve help. He is nice. Dustin said so.”

El must have him confused with some other Steve she knew, but damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. By the way Wayne smiled at her, he seemed to agree. He heaved a big sigh, as if relenting was a big favor he was granting her, and accepted the cane.

“Fine, fine, but only because a sweet young lady asked me, too,” he said. El grinned which lit up her previously somber face. “Why aren’t you outside with the others?”

“Too much sun,” she said. “Hurts.”

Steve could sympathize. Too much sunlight sometimes triggered migraines that would knock him down for an entire day, or more if he was unlucky. El looked a bit putout she wasn’t outside with the others.

"Sometimes, it’s better to stay inside when it’s like this. There’s always something fun to do indoors, too," Steve said.

“There sure is,” Wayne agreed. “Weren’t you practicing your braiding? Why don’t you bring your doll over, and you can show us how to do it.”

While El went to find her toy, Wayne showed Steve where they kept the phone. However, they were having some difficulty getting a call to actually connect. Steve tried the number for the towing company, the bookstore he and Robin worked at, and his own home phone to no avail. After the third attempted call ended with Steve nearly slamming the phone into its base, Wayne picked up the phone and listened to it for a moment before dialing a number. After a bit, he hung up the phone much more gently than Steve had.

“House is acting strange. I’ll ask Eddie to look into that. Or maybe Jeff. I think it likes him better, but don’t tell Eddie that,” Wayne said. “I can give you a ride home if you need it, once everyone’s back.”

“Thanks, Wayne,” Steve said with a rundown sigh. “I might have to take you up on that.”

By then, El had returned with a couple of long haired dolls. Once the three of them had settled in the spacious living room, El handed Steve one of the dolls.

“Uncle Wayne knows how, but it hurts his hands,” El explained why she only brought two instead of three dolls. Wayne grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘didn’t raise no narc.’ Steve suppressed a smile and tried to match El’s seriousness. “It is important to know how. I can show you.”

When Steve Harrington was in high school, he not only had the title of king, but had also gotten dubbed ‘The Hair.’ Steve earned that nickname for a reason. He had hair care down to an art. One of his favorite things to do with his various ex-girlfriends was helping them with their hair. All that to say, Steve knew how to braid hair. Steve knew how to braid hair in multiple different ways. 

There was not enough money in the world to get him to tell that to the little girl very patiently instructing him at that very moment. In fact, he made sure to fumble a couple of times so that El had the opportunity to correct him. She patiently did, each time, until Steve finished a braid to her satisfaction.

“You did it,” she beamed at him when they had accomplished a single braid.

“I had a fantastic teacher,” Steve nudged her, making her giggle. “Are you going to grow out your hair so you can have braids, too?”

“I do not know. Can hair do other things?” El asked. 

Steve reminded himself he was speaking to a child and should not go on with his detailed hair care lecture that Robin constantly made fun of him for; though, Steve liked to point out, it never stopped Robin from following his instructions. Steve claimed all the credit for her excellent hair, regardless of Robin’s indignant protests.

“Well, it depends on what kind of hair you have. Do you have straight hair or curly hair?” Steve asked.

“I have not decided yet.”

“I’m not sure that’s something you can decide, honey,” Steve said gently. 

“I can,” El replied simply. “Which is better?”

“Both kinds are good in their own way,” Steve said. “But I like curly hair. Curls are cool.”

“Curls are…cool?” El paused in thought and nodded to herself. “Yes. Dustin and Eddie have curly hair. I think they are cool.”

“I don’t think I’ve met them, but yeah, their curls are probably very cool.” 

El’s brows furrowed in concentration for a moment. Her short hair started to grow, as quick as a videotape on fast-foward, into dark ringlets. They continued to grow until they reached past her chin. She pulled one of them in front of her face, studying it, and letting it spring back in place. She looked up at Steve with a shy but proud smile.

“Curls are cool,” she said.

“Um.” Steve’s brain stuttered. He looked over to Wayne, who sat there watching them placidly as if nothing had happened. “Y-Yeah. Like that. Cool, very cool.”

“Did I do it wrong?” El said, curling in on herself as she took in Steve’s no doubt panicked expression. “Human hair is supposed to grow. Jeff told me.”

“That’s right,” Wayne said gently. “It grows like that but a lot slower. I’m sure Steve can explain. How often do you get your hair cut?”

“Uh,” Steve swallowed, trying to ignore his jangling nerves in the face of Wayne’s calm demeanor. “Um. Every–every few weeks. But, uh, R-Robin, my friend, likes hers longer and goes once a year, I-I think.”

“A year is a very long time,” El said quietly. She had shrunken her posture even smaller, eyeing Steve apologetically. “I am sorry I scared you. I did not mean to.”

She sounded so guilty and nervous, it sent a pang through Steve’s heart. She was a little girl who had been nothing but sweet the entire visit and Steve was freaking out over…what? Fast growing hair? Ridiculous.

“It’s alright,” Steve said, forcing more confidence into his voice than he felt. “I’m the one that reacted badly, so I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better.”

Out of the corner of his eye, a tension he hadn’t even noticed loosened from Wayne’s shoulders. Wayne’s grip on his cane relaxed, too. It struck Steve that if he had reacted aggressively, he had no doubt that Wayne would’ve put a stop to it one way or another.

“It’s okay. I understand,” El said, patting his arm as if she’d seen someone do it once but hadn’t had the chance to try it herself. Delicately but with intent. “Mike says humans are…scaredy-cats. That means you get scared easy.” She paused and her brow furrowed. “I do not know why there are cats. You do not look like a cat.”

At El’s earnest confusion, all of Steve’s pent up nerves and fear popped like a balloon into a fit of giggles that were only slightly off kilter. El let out a few shy giggles, too, and the last of the tension left Wayne as he relaxed back into his armchair completely.

“I really don’t,” Steve agreed. “But I like cats a lot.”

El lit up.

“Dustin is sometimes a cat!” she told him excitedly. She cupped her hands as if holding something little. “He is a very small cat.”

Yeah, Steve thought, sure. Why not have a boy turn into a cat with a girl who could fast-forward hair growth? Steve planned to get himself a drink later tonight. He thought he handled this pretty well, all things considered. He deserved a reward.

–

The three of them were playing the tamest game of Uno Steve had ever played in his life when he heard shouting. Wayne sighed a long-suffering sigh that was belied by a fond grin.

"Here comes trouble," Wayne said. El giggled in response. Steve took the opportunity to put down a draw four card for Wayne. Wayne took notice and scowled at Steve. Steve gave him his best innocent look but the effect was ruined by the sound of the front door slamming open.

"HOUSE!" a man shouted. "What the hell? Are you proud of yourself? Are you pleased? You made small children walk for an extra hour out in the blazing sun!"

The shouting was accompanied by stomping footsteps and exaggerated huffing and puffing. Laughter rang all the way through to the living room as children reacted to the dramatics. El brightened at the sound and quickly abandoned the card game to run to the foyer. The loud man seemed to take the kids’ laughter as encouragement. 

"More importantly, you made me walk an extra hour, House! These boots were not made for walking. Hey, El! Do these boots look like they’re for walking?"

“No,” El laughed.

"Maybe you should've worn tennis shoes instead, like I told you," a woman's voice pitched in.

"Don't know what you’re whining about," another man added. "I'm the one who had to carry Erica for, like, ten blocks."

"Hey, this is not my fault! None of this would've happened if House hadn't decided to move somewhere else without bringing us along!" the first man protested.

“I’m telling Nancy you got us lost,” a boy said petulantly.

“Not if you ever want to hang out with us again you won’t,” grumbled the first man in response. Then he called out, “Uncle Wayne, you in here?”

“Living room,” Wayne called back as he drew four cards to continue their game of Uno, despite the disappearance of their third player.

“Uncle Wayne!” a chorus of children’s voices rang. Soon, a horde of kids tumbled into the room.

A white boy with curly hair and a black boy both cried out excitedly when they saw who was in the living room. “Steve!”

Steve blinked in surprise. How did these kids recognize him? Had they seen him working in the bookstore? Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t seen either of them in the store before. 

The two other boys with them didn’t recognize him. They were both frighteningly pale, though in slightly different ways. The kid with the bowl-cut carried a blue tint in the skin around his lips, eyes, and fingertips in a way that made Steve shiver with a sudden chill. The other boy’s skin held a gray pallor that reminded Steve uncomfortably of corpses.

“This is Steve?” the boy with the blue-tinted skin asked curiously.

“This is Steve?” the gray boy echoed in a much more unimpressed tone.

“Steve?” Steve heard coming from the hallway. It sounded like the shouting man.

“Shit,” the curly haired boy said. The other boy shoved him.

“Way to go, doofus,” he said with a scowl.

“Hey! You said his name, too!”

“Yeah, said. Not shouted.”

“We said it at the same volume!”

“No we didn’t!”

“Have we met?” Steve tried to interrupt the bickering. His question went unheard under the boys’ loud voices. 

Before he could ask again, a man entered the living room and Steve’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. Rangy but firm, with a headful of dark curls that made Steve think of swirling schools of fish. His eyes were big and dark like seabeds. He wore a black sleeveless shirt with some sort of band logo on it. It was worn thin, and damp with sweat. The man glared at him like he wanted to flay him alive.

“You,” the man hissed. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said. Eddie whipped his gaze to where Wayne sat, unconcerned, in the armchair.

“Is that his car outside?” Eddie asked shortly. “How is he here?”

“Ed, calm down,” Wayne said.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Eddie growled. 

“I think he should,” Wayne said with a calm shrug. 

“Me, too!” the curly haired boy piped up.

“Children’s opinions do not count in this conversation,” Eddie snapped. “All of you, get to your rooms. Chrissy–”

“She took the girls upstairs the second you started your hissy fit,” a handsome man interrupted as he joined them in the living room. Steve vaguely recognized him from the bar he and Robin stumbled across months ago. Jeff, maybe? The word Jeffathan popped up in his mind, which was absurd. 

“Take that back, Jeffiam. I do not throw hissy fits,” Eddie said in a tone that Steve personally thought verged hissy fit territory. He chose not to offer up that particular thought to the conversation happening around him. Also, Jeffiam? What on earth? Jeff rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” Jeff said in a way that clearly stated disagreement. “C’mon, boys. We’ll let Eddy and Uncle Wayne figure things out with Steve.”

A series of loud complaints rose up. It almost distracted Steve from how odd Eddie’s name sounded when Jeff said it.

“You guys can stay up an extra hour past bedtime if you come along without fighting,” Jeff said.

The gray boy whooped and ran off the moment the words left Jeff’s lips, with the blue boy close at his heels. The two boys that recognized Steve shot him apologetic looks but chased after their friends with no other complaints. Jeff gave Eddie a stern look. 

“Think this through before doing anything, Eddy,” Jeff said, before turning on his heel and leaving.

That left only Steve, Eddie, and Wayne in the living room that was almost painfully quiet now that El and the other children were gone. Wayne looked as peaceable as ever, but Eddie more than made up for it with the glare that had not let up since he saw Steve. 

Steve had questions. A lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to articulate his questions. His car broke down though there wasn’t anything wrong with it; the phone in the house wouldn’t connect his calls; a little girl grew her hair at will; there was possibly a child who could transform into a small cat; an entire building seemingly relocated without anyone noticing; and somehow, despite the impossibility of those things, all of it felt almost familiar.

“What is going on?”

“Why are you here?”

Steve and Eddie spoke simultaneously, though Steve’s words came out incredulous and Eddie’s were angry as hell. Wayne watched them both warily. He didn’t interject.

“I didn't come here on purpose,” Steve said defensively. He didn’t owe this man any explanation, he thought irritably, but Wayne had been so kind to him the whole time. Steve didn’t want to pick a fight with his nephew. “I was going grocery shopping and my car broke down. Your uncle was nice enough to let me use the phone but it didn’t work, otherwise I would’ve been long gone.”

“The phone works fine,” Eddie sniffed. “House just doesn’t like you.”

Wayne snorted.

“The problem is the other way around and you’re being too stubborn to see it, Ed. His car worked fine when I was behind the wheel.”

“You got into the car with him?” Eddie asked, aghast. “Uncle Wayne, stranger danger!”

“I am not a child, Eddie.” Wayne rolled his eyes, which seemed to happen a lot around Eddie. Steve thought about how Wayne had gripped his cane in that tense moment after El’s hair trick, and the way he had eyed him during it.

“I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself,” Steve muttered. Eddie puffed up like an angry cat, indignant at the comment.

“Nobody asked you,” Eddie snapped.

“Alright, what the f–” Steve paused, remembering there were children in the house, and course-corrected. “What the heck is your problem with me, man? You’re acting like I insulted your mother or something, but I’d remember you if we’d met before and we haven’t.”

Even as he said that, Steve couldn’t be sure that was true. A sense of familiarity lingered doggedly at the edges of his mind. Eddie’s beauty was breathtaking but it didn’t feel new. 

“Don’t take it personally, Steve,” Eddie sneered. “I don’t like any humans.”

Wayne coughed.

“You don’t count, Uncle Wayne, you’re a god amongst men,” Eddie said without missing a beat. For a brief moment, Wayne smiled crookedly at his nephew.

“You’re not human?” Steve asked, looking Eddie over more closely. He didn’t look inhuman. Then again, neither did El and she proved she wasn’t human pretty easily.

“Nope!” Eddie said with a mean sort of cheeriness. “But it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember any of this.”

Eddie started to hum a tune that muffled Steve’s mind. It was a beautiful song coming from the beautiful man, and Steve wanted to give him anything, everything, he wanted.

“Steve,” Eddie said his name like a song. “I want you to for–”

“Eddie Munson, that’s enough,” Wayne’s sharp tone cut through the hum in Eddie’s words.

The enchanting tune stopped abruptly. The absence left Steve reeling, like his mind was not fully connected to his body. He didn’t like it. Steve couldn’t tell if he wanted the song back or to never hear it again.

“This man has done nothing but be sweet to the kids,” Wayne said. “How many times has he shown up now?”

“It doesn’t mat–”

“Yes it does and you know it,” Wayne interrupted. “Twice with Jeff’s card and this is the second time House moved to find him.”

“But–”

“Dustin went missing for days looking for him, Eddie. You’re being stubborn and that put Dustin in more danger than Steve has so far.”

Eddie’s mouth audibly snapped shut at that declaration.  Eddie jerked back as if struck. A broken musical sound escaped his throat unthinkingly, and it sent a lance of pain through Steve’s heart. Steve wanted to do something to erase that pain from Eddie’s face, but his mind still hadn’t quite gathered itself. His tongue felt heavy and clumsy in his mouth.

“I understand why, Eddie. You’re not wrong to be cautious,” Wayne said. “But what was the point of getting House if you’re not going to trust it?”

Eddie blinked rapidly, eyes red-rimmed. He didn’t look at Wayne. Eddie’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Then his shamed expression shifted into one of steely resolution. He stalked towards Steve. It would’ve been frightening if Steve had had his wits about him. Cool hands cupped Steve’s face and all he could see was deep, dark eyes he wanted to drown in.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take House to find you again,” Eddie said, and the music in his words was gentler than before. It kept Steve’s mind calm. “But I need you to leave.”

“Eddie,” Wayne said. 

The song strengthened to override the interruption. Steve wanted to kiss Eddie. He’d do anything Eddie asked for a kiss.

“Steve, will you be a good boy for me?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” Steve gasped. He wanted to be so good for Eddie.

“Today is going to feel like a dream,” Eddie said.

“Nice dream,” Steve murmured hazily. A flicker of a smile from Eddie made his stomach swoop pleasantly.

“Yeah, a nice dream,” Eddie said. “You have to leave me now, but I’m going to miss you so much, Steve.”

Steve whimpered. He didn’t want to leave if it would hurt Eddie. He tried to lean forward, to press his forehead against Eddie’s and promise him his life if it would make that smile come back. Eddie's cool hands held him firmly in place.

“Listen to me. I’ll be so sad with you gone, so you’ll come back to me, won’t you? Come back to me in two days, Stevie. Promise me?”

“Promise,” Steve mumbled. “Two days. I’ll come back. I will.”

“I know you will. Now, go and I’ll be ready when you come back to me.”

–

The next thing Steve knew, he was in the parking lot of the grocery store and it was much later in the day than Steve had originally planned. As frustrating as the car trouble had been, Steve couldn’t regret the loss of time. Wayne was such a nice guy to have helped him fix his car and his nephew was gorgeous. His good old Harrington charm still worked like a dream because he got an invitation to visit again in a couple of days. He could scope out the nephew and see if there was maybe a chance for some romance in his future. 

He might as well try, since he had no luck in the adoption front yet. Though, he thought they mentioned something about running a daycare? There may have been some kids running around at some point during the car repairs. Maybe he could volunteer to help out Wayne with the kids. It wouldn’t be the same as fatherhood, but it would be something. 

Steve grinned as he got out of his car and headed into the grocery store. He couldn’t wait to tell Robin. Things were starting to look up!

I do not do those reader tag list things. If you’d like to keep up with my stuff please follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[climbthemountain2020]

Flame of Autumn - Chapter 2

Part 3/25 Also on Ao3!

*Mild TW for extremely brief violence.*

Eris

He hated the Hewn City. And more than that, he hated the fucking Night Court. Rhysand and his worthless “inner circle” as he dubbed them. Pretentious assholes who paraded around like they were better than everyone else, despite leaving their very court to its own ruinous spirit.

Of course, Eris made the effort to be cordial, if not somewhat aloof. Sometimes. Eris knew the importance of keeping Rhys and his bat collection in his favor. Their alliance, though fraught with taunting and toeing the line, was vital to him one day overthrowing Beron and becoming High Lord. Truthfully, he could admit to himself and only himself that he was somewhat jealous of Rhysand.

Eris knew that Rhysand wore the same mask he did. A cool, cruel demeanor allowed him to keep things in check, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the High Lord of Night was not that way with his family. Eris could see what his life might have been like if he had people he truly trusted, a family who loved him. He shook the thought out of his head as that trained voice taunted him: No weakness. No consequences.

He straightened his coat a final time as he waited in the stone-walled room for Rhysand and his party to arrive. It wouldn’t do to have him thinking such thoughts once they arrived. Though his mental shields had been honed for hundreds of years, Rhysand could easily tear them apart if he felt particularly cruel. Best to not tempt fate with any sort of redeeming thoughts about the great bat and his gang of merry followers.

He rapped his long fingers against the table in front of him, and only years of training his reactions stopped him from flinching when the massive stone doors abruptly burst open.

Always so theatrical.

Rhysand arrived with Feyre, Cassian, and Azriel in tow. No Morrigan. Not unexpected. Perhaps she’d still tell them one day of the truth behind their encounters, but until she was ready to face that truth herself, he would play the villain. He was a natural.

“So Eris, I hear congratulations are in order.”

How in the fucking cauldron could news have possibly already traveled here? Inwardly he rolled his eyes and outwardly he projected a bored demeanor.

“For?” He refused to give an inch, ever, where the Night Court was concerned.

“We hear a wedding is coming up. A lovely Autumn bride for the fireling.” It appeared Rhysand and Feyre had not told their warriors. They worked quickly to school their shock, but Eris registered it anyway.

“Yes, I’m told she’s wonderful. About the reason I am here today–”

“What? Not excited for your own wedding, Eris? I would think this betrothal is already going much better than your last.” He fought to not grind his teeth, and he watched Azriel tense visibly across the table. So, no truth yet, then.

“My betrothal is going fine. I am not here about that.”

Cassian smiled. “You were certainly willing when you were propositioning my mate.”

Gods, were they ever going to let this go?

“As I have said before, and will say again, I saw her power, and I thought it would be usefully honed in Autumn. I have offered my congratulations to you many times since.” He projected as much exhaustion with the topic as he could into his voice.

More like I saw that your High Lord would mistreat her then hone her into a weapon, but I digress. Seems to have worked out fine.

“I’ve found traces of stores of what appear to be faebane in the oceanside manor.” This stopped them. He had known it would. “The stores were no longer present, but they left behind traces of the stone used for shackles and the powder dusted on arrows as were used in the war with Hybern. I don’t have any ideas where they might have been moved to, but I haven’t seen traces of them within the Forest House.”

The males nodded, then Feyre spoke up. “Do you think Beron is hoarding them with a purpose in mind? His own safety, or an attack on others?”

“My guess would be that he is keeping them to keep tabs on them, as he does all of his belongings. I think if he wanted to use them, or had any use for them, he would have already done so. I would wager he thinks if he keeps them close, that no one can use them against him.” Feyre nodded.

“You’ll keep tracking them and let us know if and where they resurface?” He nodded. He far preferred working with Feyre. Despite their history, she had softened to him after the war, after becoming a mother.

She was young, but practical. She displayed a haughty aura in situations that called for it, but she wasn’t unnecessarily cruel in the way Rhysand could often be. He respected her more for the things she’d been through, even as a human.

“I will. Are there plans in place yet for an attack on Beron?”

Rhysand responded this time. “Our spies tell us that this is not an ideal time for an attack. I must agree. If he is staying close to the Forest House and hoarding faebane, it would be prudent to wait until circumstances change to move forward with any planning.” Eris tried not to deflate visibly. It was the same every time for the past few years. One step forward, two steps back. He took the opportunity to stand.

“In that case, that concludes my business here.” Rhysand stood and smirked at him wickedly.

“See you at the wedding, fireling.”

Matilda

This region of Autumn was stunning, the leaves changing like fires racing through the trees as they passed in the carriage. The ride had been very bumpy, so she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not that she’d felt comfortable enough with her uncle to sleep near him anyway. She wished she’d been able to stow away a weapon or two for her journey. Indeed, she’d planned to, but the servants burst in before dawn’s first light today to shove her into embroidered dresses and rip at her hair until it sat in a coronet upon her head.

She sighed lightly as she looked again at the passing scenery. At least she would be seeing new parts of Autumn. She hadn’t been to the Forest House since she was very young, perhaps in her late teens. She remembered the gaggle of rowdy redheaded boys, all roughly around her age and younger, and the sad, eternal eyes of the Lady of Autumn. She recalled with vivid clarity the savage and cold face of Beron Vanserra.

“You’ll be on your own tonight. I will be expected to eat with the family of the High Lord, and you won’t be welcome.” She snorted.

“A female? Unwelcome in Autumn? How unexpected.” His hand shot out to slap her and she reared back, still unfamiliar even after two years with a male raising his hands to her.

“Enough of that, you wretch. You’d better get your tongue in check before you enter the Forest House. Eris and any other member of the family will have you killed for speaking in such a way.”

“Why will it matter to you?” She sneered. “You’ll have your coin and be gone, spending my father’s money.” For a second he looked like he might hit her again, but instead he settled for calling her an ungrateful bitch beneath his breath and turning back to look at his letters.

“Once I am gone, you’ll have no one to protect you.” She fought every single impulse to roll her eyes at her uncle’s feeble claim to have ever protected her from anything. “You’d better hope you can spread your legs and produce an heir with your mouth shut. Otherwise, I’m sure Beron will find a more suitable use for you.”

She winced at the implication. She knew she needed to rein it in before arriving. She truly was being dumped into a den of snakes, and she easily could be killed for a slip of the tongue.

She looked back to the beautiful woods.

I wonder if I might be able to wander the woods here. Will he even let me outdoors?

She let her thoughts wander again to what he might be like.

Would they share a bed? Would he hit her? Ignore her? Pretend she didn’t exist at all?

She had the vaguest recollection of Eris from her visit long ago. He’d been impeccably mannered and quiet for the shortest bit of time he was even there, and then he had been sent off only a day into her trip. While the other boys had been running wild, Eris had sat at the table and displayed incredible etiquette for a fae of no more than twenty. He’d walked with an almost undetectable limp, and she remembered that his hair was a beautiful shade of Autumn red–she’d even been jealous of the wine red color against her auburn orange.

She wondered if he might have grown to be handsome, or if he would now bear the vicious features of Beron as an adult.

As she rested her head against the window to watch the passing trees, she couldn’t get the haunted eyes of the Lady of Autumn, shining starkly in her memories, out of her mind.

[ms-scarletwings]

A Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part I

Dem green fellas. Them lil guys, they’re an interesting pack of critters, aren’t they?

I used to really fixate on them back in middle and high school, stronger than everyone else seemed to be on the spazz in the dog costume. Jhonen Vasquez’s worldbuilding has always towed a very fine line between nonsensically ridiculous and surprisingly logistical, and this balance is typified in everything we know, and can infer, about these bug-eyed imperialists at the center of everything Invader Zim. So, let’s infer, and take a crack at it since no one’s stopping us anyway- More specifically, some thoughts and ponderings I had about how they “tick” as a fully realized society, not just a sci-fi monster..

A Homeworld Obscured 

Now, to really understand the history and “deal” of any civilization, or any animal, usually you would turn to their environment first to give you some handy clues and context.

Small problem, though: We actually don’t get much in the way of direct, explicit showing or explanations about Irk itself when it comes to the show. This makes some sense, given that the whole of what they do worth showing (and the most notable members of their kind) exists almost entirely off-world. So instead, we mostly find out more about Irk from what Invader Zim does tell us about its natives. As far as confirmed canon goes, we know that Irk’s atmosphere appears red, its surface is entirely and densely urbanized, and it’s long been depicted in starmaps with a set of Saturn-like rings. 

  This last fact is probably the most interesting, because planetary rings are usually something we, in our own little solar system, would only associate with massive, gaseous worlds, not terrestrial ones.  What These rings are made of is really anyone’s guess- could be ancient debris from natural satellites, Water-ice particles, maybe even some form of artificial defense network put into orbit by the Irkens themselves. If they aren’t artificially created, this would suggest that Irk has quite a strong gravitational field- greater than that of any of our neighborhood’s rocky planets. This is the common theory I personally like to subscribe to, because it would also go hand and hand with explaining why the average height of the irken race is so much shorter compared to that of an adult human. It fits neatly into the “why” question for the sort of athletic skill and agility we’ve seen invaders able to demonstrate on Earth, too, for otherwise being of meek physical prowess. It even adds some credible context for why the very achievement of growing to a more substaintial height is both uncommon and associated with extreme survival fitness to them.

A Fun fact that’s about to be relevant: “Rayleigh scattering” is the term given to when light wavelengths become shifted and scattered through an atmosphere medium. Long story short, it’s the reason our sky has color to it during the day. Stay with me on this.

I’ve also seen some people take a go at the red-looking surface, guessing a different gas makeup than the elements on earth responsible for our blue skies. I’m gonna go against the grain here, and actually contest that. I think that Irk’s atmosphere is coincidentally extremely similar to Earth’s. We know well enough that they both have a similar composition of gases breathable to both societies, given that Zim, Skoodge, and Tak all seemed pretty comfortable without some form of assistance on the same dirtball as humanity. Instead, I propose that Irk’s magenta skies are actually the symptom of heavy pollution. Sunsets and sunrises in the real world are known to make the sky appear more reddish-orange, even pink, as is. Usually, Rayleigh scattering has the light From the sun appear bluish in full midday, but during low sun, the rays are coming at an angle making them have to travel farther before reaching us, so you have already stretched light waves getting the same treatment from the air and, well, a higher frequency blue turns down to the lower end of the spectrum, red and yellows.

And wouldn’t you know, air pollution can actually do the same thing. THIS is why there's a scary ass orange haze known to accompany the presence of massive forest fires and volcanic eruptions. Earth’s most polluted cities even experience longer and redder sunsets for the same reason. 

Left: Image of a lilac sky over a Chinese city experiencing heavy smog levels Right: Intense red haze spotted over towns in Indonesia in the wake of rampant rainforest fires

On Earth, Zim stared directly into the midday sun without hesitation, nor concern that it would literally blind him. I think the planet hue and this is plenty enough to guess the likely case that Irk’s surface probably doesn’t get a lot of direct sun on an average day as is, and the sheer amount of unbroken cityscape that covers the homeworld would be the more obvious suspect than just having a more distant star from them. If they overcrowded to the point of their expansion, why build their civilization deeper into the ground, instead of up? Maybe there's actually a good reason or two they don’t raise their young topside.

A Psychology Molded for Domination

As well, I want to chirp about real world space again for a second. So, anyone up to the buzz in geek circles and aware of the math on the matter probably got the memo: humanity is almost matter-of-fact certainly not alone in this sandbox of a universe (or at the very least, we won’t always be alone). Like, about as certainly as we were about Black holes’ existence before we up and observed the real thing. And while it’s probably not going to happen in any of our lifetimes, sci-fi and media generally have been trying to take a crack for years at what the theoretical first contact with an alien civilization is going to look like. 

And I’m gonna go ahead and say it, 

As “cliche” and Hollywood as the conquering little green/grey dudes trope might have become… it’s actually not a wild take after all. The little and green thing, that’s creative liberty, but the part about them being hostile and something we may not actually even WANT to be aware of our existence? That’s an idea that even the smarty pants experts have been fearing the realistic odds of, even including the late Stephen Hawking .

The Evolution of intelligent life is a hard thing to really pin down and predict, given that we literally only have the one example to study. Under the right conditions, what reason would another advanced species NOT have to be equally as expanding, as exploitative of its resources, self-destructively short-sighted, and as supremacist as humans have already demonstrated themselves to be capable of? There is a lot of very interesting literature that suggests BOTH empathy/altruism and or aggression/tribalism to be (at least in the short term) very rewarding characteristics for an intelligent social species to develop.

And that’s the thing about the behavior of the Irken Armada I think has always been fascinating. Their drive to be the biggest definitionally invasive species across the cosmos is framed exactly as irrational, bumbling, and pointless as it deserves to be; however, is it not just the extended conclusion of every empire that has existed here on Earth, if only it had survived long enough to achieve the technology of Irk? And yet, it’s reminiscent, like the rest of their design, to the far from sapient, yet very real world creatures they appear to be most inspired by: hive and colony building arthropods. Whether the next point I'm about to touch on should be seen as a rejection of that resemblance, or further elaboration of it is anyone's to answer.

Transhumanism, or.. Transirkenism, in this case?

Like the specifics of what Irk really looks like and how it realistically works, a bunch about the aliens’ physical biology is left to scattered tidbits to ponder and piece together into a bigger picture. A few of those tidbits are as follows, drip-fed to us over the course of aired and scripted but never released episodes:

+ From the mouth of Vasquez himself, it has been confirmed that Irkens lack any form of reproductive organs. Instead, they rely on industrialized facilities to grow and produce them in a factory sense.

+ Yet curiously, they still demonstrate something akin to sexual dimorphism, or at least the cultural existence of masculine/feminine genders, where females are aesthetically set apart by the presence of curled antennae, eyelashes, and higher voices.

+ Irken lifespans are able to stretch far past that of an average human’s (Zim himself is cited to be around 2 centuries old in earth years).

+ Invader class soldiers have been implanted with surgical upgrades to their eyes.

+ Every Irken is fitted with a PAK that serves a wide array of utility and life-sustaining functions for its owner. These units are physically and neurologically connected into an Irken’s spine from “birth” and contain a cybernetic backup of an individual’s personality, assigned occupational programming, and memories. 

That’s not close to a complete list by any means, but it’s got the gist of what I want to dwell on most, starting with the last bit; because the PAK isn’t done true justice in one statement. It is not an extra addition the way a prosthetic enhancement is, and it is not a tool the way armor and weapons are. It is literally analogous to a vital organ to these aliens, and they are shown to die within 10 minutes of being forcefully detached from their own.

The degree to which Irken bodies and minds rely on this technology, and how seamlessly they are integrated into it, ALONG with their completely artificial life cycle all directly points to the fact that their civilization has advanced into a cyborg-like stage of evolution. It may even be on track to reach a post-organical peak in due time, phasing out more and more of their “vestigial” and feeble meatsuits until they’ve become a true drone army. And that actually begs some huge questions now that we realize we will never know how much of the Irken anatomy was ever originally a natural feature. An Irken’s own brain practically comes secondary to the superior efficiency of the supercomputer on their back, capable of literally holding their own essence and being in the form of code. A code that can preserve the “self” even in the event of meatbody failure, being uploaded post-mortem into the Control Brains’ collective data and repurposed for a future generation of workers. It absolutely would stand to reason that the species has continued this biological self-tampering to other heights- extending their lifespans, incorporating untold amount of mechanical upgrades into their bodies, and maybe even genetically engineering their smeets to be so compatible with this technology.  The control brains themselves are a mesmerizing reflection of this change over time- the result of an evident shift long ago from technology serving them, to them serving the directives of computers. When you really pay attention to the control brains’ role in the series, it comes clear to you who (or what) is really in charge of their society. The Tallest still maintain their symbolic/cultural importance to the Irkens, but outside of their part in spearheading the active intergalactic invasion, they ultimately are figureheads when it comes to actually running the homeworld and ruling the lives of Irk’s inhabitants. If I had to bet money, I would say the Brains may even have the ability to choose and predetermine the next Tallest when a replacement is needed. But what does that make the Tallest? A meaningless title and transformation, chosen arbitrarily by the AI overlords? Well, I don’t think so, actually… but maybe that, and more on the “meaty” morphology of their race is all a tangent fit for another day and post ;)

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Preliminary Poll

The Ghost Gang (Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde)

Submission reason:

Okay so. the ghost gang were set up to be super intresting in ghostly adventures because in the first episode Blinky manages to weasel their way out of being eaten by pac man by agreeing to help him in his fight against Betrayus and the ghost army by giving insider info and stuff. Good start. Their motivations are established, they want their bodies to be returned so they can be alive again, and Pac and the President can do that for them as long as they continue working as double agents.This has a lot of potential. Early season one sets up their dynamic well. They all want to do the right thing but are struggling with various character flaws preventing their true redemption: Clyde wants to be a good person but is easily bullied and bossed around by others, who override any objections he may have and force him to get involved in the plot no matter what side that may be. Pinky is doing all of this for purely selfish reasons: She is in love with Pac. She will sabatoge and harrass any of the ghosts to get her way. This is also how Pac cements his teamship with them, by falsely professing his love for her so she'll sabatoge his execution. This can also backfire against Pac though, as Pinky is also easily jealous against any other girl who shows even remote interest in him, and can be easily mislead into believing pac is cheating on her even if it's a misunderstanding. It's a whole thing and is very annoying Inky is indifferent to both sides, he just wants to be on the winning team, and wants to do the least work. He also ends up being the most vocal against working with pac, but mostly because he is indifferent at best to Pinky's love life and is most likely to be accidentally eaten by Pac, as it quickly becomes a running joke in the show. Blinky seems to be the most logical in this regard, judging which stance he should take based on the opinions and status of the rest of the ghost gang, pac and co, or betrayus and the other villains, and what would work best in the moment. He will argue with the other ghost gang members if there's room for discussion/debate, but will submit if there is any true urgency to the situation or if Pinky yells loud enough. They never actually settle into a concrete flaw for him though. Early episodes seem to think his problem is that he is perfectly fine with working for Betrayus if it benefits him, but this is diminished in later episodes due to the fact they greatly reduced his role in season 2. So early on, this worked great. Pinky got an episode where she and pac's friend Cyli had to work together to save him and Pinky learned to be less selfish, good development. The ghost gang as a whole have an episode where they have to give up a chance of getting their bodies back in order to save Pac. But the thing is, the writers just can't commit to it. They're the GHOST gang, so they can't ever have their bodies back lest they become functionally unrecognizable to the brand (which may play into why we never actually learn much about their lives before they died). And if they get redeemed without ever being offered their bodies, people will get mad that they aren't being rewarded for their loyalty. So they're stuck always having to tow the line, getting occasional episodes where they inch closer to their much needed developments, but never actually being able to reach them. Clyde needs to learn to stand up for what's morally right, but is never put into a position where he does so on purpose and is rewarded for it. Inky has an episode where his morals vs his selfish desires literally splits him into two beings, but this is not fully explored at all and so Inky is never actually confronted about his flakiness.

Blinky has at least three or four character flaws that could be explored but the writers just kinda stop paying attention to him at all. Pinky needs to get over herself and reach a state where not being romantically involved with pac is acceptable for her, but she only ever gets as far as reluctantly accepting cyli as being pacs platonic friend and then continuing to be passive aggressive towards her anyways.

As it went on, they became less and less involved, and more of the episodes had them just warning Pac about things he was already aware of, and many attempts to help him further being more or less unsuccessful.

It gets so, so bad in season 2. They make a Blinky centric episode where they imply he may have known Pac's missing parents before the war and yet it's never actually acknowledged. It could have been such a great development considering how much the ghost gang had begun to stagnate at that point. It also makes it clear that Blinky has clear moral boundaries that he refuses to cross, which is ALSO a really good development. But... the episode was actually just a vague Kung Fu Panda ripoff where Pac learns to use his roundness or whatever, and the episode wasn't actually supposed to be a Blinky development episode at all, and so NOTHING that happens in the episode is EVER mentioned again.

By the mid point of season 2, the ghost gang is imploding. Clyde has devolved into useless comic relief, with none of the intelligence he exhibited in the first season and his pacifistic nature treated as nothing but a gag. Blinky starts going several episodes without getting a single line, having exactly one line of dialogue in exactly three episodes and having more than one line of dialogue in another three episodes out of this 26 EPISODE SEASON. As an indirect result of Blinky's lack of dialogue, Inky is forced to juggle both his own as well as Blinky's roles, making his character inconsistent.

Pinky in particular gets it VERY bad, because, since she was the one to have dedicated episodic character arcs, she starts straight up regressing. She finds out Betrayus and co plan to psychologically torment Pac by pretending to be his missing parents and she says nothing because Pac had the audacity to be happy during the holidays which meant he MUST be seeing someone else behind her back. In the very last episode of the series, she sabotages a budding relationship between Pac and Elli and does not even admit it when Pac is severely depressed. CLYDE ends up the one revealing the scheme, and that can't even be boiled down to his own character arc about doing the right thing because HE DID IT BY ACCIDENT!!!! Inky and Blinky have no significant role in this episode because both of their last lines were in the halloween/christmas episodes respectively so all they do is kind of look on and be there.

And then the show got cancelled.

There is so much miscellaneous complaints that I could go on for ages about. The episode where they split up two for two that should have been major since they usually act as one unit but it barely gets glanced over because it was done solely to avoid having to make new models for inky and blinky in the 8bit world if they weren't even going to do anything that episode. The episode where Pac forces the ghost gang to get involved with his school life drama and never gets called out for it despite the fact that he literally threatened to eat them over something that was out of their jurisdiction. The fact that the Wizard of Oz parody episode gave it's version of Blinky a more complete arc than the show proper did.

When people think about problems related to PMATGA they usually instantly think of the fart jokes and the fact that it was cancelled before getting a proper ending but. Man I am so angry about what happened to the ghost gang they really deserved better. Like the way it was shaping up towards the end it seemed to be approaching the idea of the ghost gang never getting their bodies back at all. Which would have been sad since the early episodes leaned heavily into their redemption which just gives the whole thing just an air of tragedy to it.

Like man, the ghost gang are like four out of five of the original Pac Man characters. You'd think they'd actually focus on them.

Propaganda:

The first two episodes are actually pretty good as far as ghost gang goes so. I'd recommend that. You get to see them wearing little executioner hoods. They feel bad about having to go betray their new friends. It's fun.

[hangesbrattyapprentice]

Sleuths & Syndicates

Part 4

Detective! Aizawa x fem!reader

Mafia Boss! Shigaraki x fem!reader

˚✧₊⁎ find Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 here  ⁎⁺˳✧༚

CW- kidnapping, elements of dubcon, murder, psychological trauma, angst, explicit sexual content.

Shigaraki doesn’t know what he expected when he answered a call from Mustard, one of his newest recruits, but it wasn’t this.

“Don. The little lady wants to talk to ya. Says it’s urgent. ’salright if I give her the phone?”

His heart beats in his throat, but you sound fine when you’re on. Cheery, even.

“Tomura, what time will you be home today?” You lilt.

“The fuck kind of a question is that to call over?” He rasps into the phone.

“It’s just…” your voice dips low, cadence syrupy sweet. “Could you maybe bring me some bubble tea on your way back?”

He swallows thickly. The last time you asked for bubble tea, he very nearly transcended to a different plane of existence, so yes he’ll get you some bubble tea. Buy you a freighter full of the stuff if it’s what you want. He stays on the line when the conversation’s done, distracted by smutty thoughts of what could happen later tonight, but something on the other end catches his attention. He hears laughter, yours and the boy’s.

“That’s what was so urgent?” Mustard complains and you’re giggling.

“Shut up!” comes your voice, and then more laughter before the line goes silent.

Cracks form along the glass screen in his fist.

You’re dressed extra cute in preparation for his return. Nothing but thigh-high socks, cheeky panties, and a loose t-shirt that you’ve cut up to just barely cover your nipples and ass. Bored as you are here, you’re looking forward to this. But your grin instantly drops when you see Shigaraki walk into his room. He’s told the guard at the door to call for Mustard and he’s got one of his consiglieri in tow – the one with icy blue eyes and all the piercings. He’s smiling at you but his eyes have that look in them that makes your blood run cold.

Mustard is at the door before you’ve thought of something to say to break the tension. He asks if he can help with something. He can indeed, he’s told, and then Shigaraki pulls out his Colt 45 and shoots him in the middle of his forehead.

You catch yourself, not allowing your body to betray a reaction beyond the initial twitch from the shock. You’re sitting at the edge of the bed frozen in terror.

“Get that cleaned up, will you?” Shigaraki tells the consiglieri at the door, but the man’s looking you up and down, pierced lips curved in a smirk. Shigaraki bristles. “You wanna be next, Dabi?” to which the man laughs, heading out to get the required help. You’re left to stare at the dead body of the one person you’d felt remotely comfortable around in months.

Shigaraki’s regarding you like he’s seeing you as your own person for the first time. “Eh, Sunny,” he asks, finger cupping your chin to tilt your face up towards his. He’s still got the Colt in the other hand. “You’re mine, right?”

You’re shaking, fighting not to let your eyes glaze over with frightened tears. You bite your bottom lip and try to nod as best you can with him holding your chin.

“How many others’ve had what’s mine?”

At that, you can’t stop the tears from falling.

Part of you had given up ever getting out of here and had made peace with whatever may happen to you. But this changes things. It isn’t just you in danger anymore.

Shota, your mind screams. He’s going to kill Shota.

“I-I didn’t know, Tomu. I’m sorry,” you stutter, but he shushes you, stroking the top of your head with the hand that’s holding the gun. The metal’s warm.

“Names, Sunshine.”

You consider lying, but you falter. Your past relationships are easy enough to track down on social media, and while Aizawa doesn’t do socials, you two weren’t exactly a secret. Even the look Shigaraki’s giving you seems to say that he’ll know if you’re not truthful.

And surely, not even Shigaraki could get away with murdering a member of the police force, right?

“A-a-aizawa…” you whisper, after you’ve quickly mentioned the others. Shigaraki’s ruby eyes widen.

“Detective Shota Aizawa?” he asks, and your throat burns but you nod in confirmation. He’s chuckling, grin sharp and wide and humourless.

“You’re a badge bunny?” He chuckles. “Really, Sunshine, who’d’ve guessed?”

“I didn’t know, Tomu,” you wail, “didn’t know I was yours. I was so stupid. Please. It was only a couple of dates – it m-m-!”

You stop short of saying it meant nothing, not wanting to oversell the act. 

“Well, this changes things, doesn’t it? You being a little cop-slut,” he punctuates the moniker with two patronizing slaps to your wet cheek. “I know the guy. Met him a couple times. Pretty cool, that Aizawa…” He’s quiet for a beat, seems to be considering something.

“You obviously think so,” he drawls, looking down at your small, flinching form and scratching the back of his neck. “You wanna go back to him?”

His voice becomes soft and you sob harder at the thought of being safe in Shota’s arms. You hadn’t let yourself think about him in so long. Knew you wouldn’t have the strength to carry on with your life if you reminisced about what it was like before, the happiness that you had been torn away from.

Above you, Shigaraki has asked a question, and you need to make him believe that you are his by choice. 

Steeling your resolve, you leap up and throw your arms around his waist, hugging him tight underneath his blazer.

“Please,” you sob into his shirt, “please don’t send me away, Tomu. I’m sorry about the others. I don’t want to be with anyone else, just you!”

You’re nuzzling into his chest, hands grasping at him, pressing yourself fully into his strong frame as you whimper, “just you, Tomu,” over and over. You’re halfway convinced that he’ll shoot you right there or maybe drag you to Aizawa and then shoot you in front of him, but you feel him tuck his gun back into his belt. He brings his hands to your shoulders, resting them there for a second before slowly prying you off of him. His eyes are staring into nothing, thoughts far away.

That night, you sleep alone, and you’re disgusted with yourself for what you’ve become. You were forced to remember Shouta today, and it drags you back into a world that would abhor and reject the things you’ve done to survive, how you’ve adapted.

You are repulsed by yourself for missing Shigaraki’s cool touch, his head cradled in your arms, because he’s all you’ve got. You try not to think about what will happen to you if you lose his affection. Instead, you let your mind go where you haven’t let it for months. You think about Aizawa Shota.  

You think about the last time you woke up with him beside you, and how there had been too few of those mornings in your life. He’d sometimes get one of his subordinates to babysit Eri so he could spend the night with you. And those nights, he’d be a bit different. He was always attentive and you could tell he loved being around you, but on those nights he’d be so much more relaxed because he knew he finally had time with you – just you.  

Whatever you did for the evening, it always ended up with you both curled up comfortably on your couch (your cat occupying the opposite end, slightly annoyed). You’d tell each other stories and things about yourselves and just take the time to get to know each other. His chest would be so warm under your cheek and you’d feel the soft rumble of his voice as you rubbed your palm along the rippled expanse of his torso.

Maybe your thumb would inadvertently stroke over his nipple and you’d feel his abs tighten. Gentleman that he was, he’d do his best to carry on and pretend nothing happened. Until you happened to do it again…and again.

Then he’d stop mid-sentence and use the hand that was softly rubbing your arm to lift up your chin, making you meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

“Need something, pookie?” His lip would twitch, holding back a smirk.

Rubbing your thighs together, you’d nod up at him coyly. Sometimes he’d pull you in and kiss you senseless. Other times, you’d act fast and pounce on him, pushing his shirt up to his neck, flicking the tip of your tongue over his nipple and sucking on it like you’d been thinking of doing. Drinking in his low, soft gasps and choked moans until he slung you over his shoulder and carried you to your bedroom.

And because it was one of those nights, he would take his time. He would get to know every inch of you, worshipping each and every part of you, learning you. He’d kiss from your neck all the way to your fingertips. He’d palm both your breasts and alternate between your nipples, kissing and sucking them until you were close to tears with how good it felt. He’d spend long, so long between your legs, experimenting with all the different sounds he could pull from you with clever flicks, prods, slides…

His cock would be flushed and aching but you’d have to fight to flip him over and get your turn. And then you’d do your own exploring. You knew that Shota wasn’t one to be fooled by innocent looks. But you loved how you always made his eyes widen slightly with just how filthy you – sweet little you – could be for him.

Breasts squished against the tops of his thighs, you’d frame his shaft between them and admire how it throbbed, tongue peeking out to lick at the pre dripping from his slit every time it twitched toward you. He would grunt under his breath but would really let go and moan when you sucked on the sensitive flesh just under the tip. And when you hovered with your open mouth just over him, hot breath fanning over his silky, glistening length, he’d go wild.

Sex with him was always raw, intense. He’d be tired from endless days of overtime but when it came to being with you, he was a ball of fire. On those nights, that intensity would take on a whole other form. He would go hard and deep, but his girth would drag against your walls slowly. He was in no rush, after all. With every languid pull back, he’d unsheathe himself almost all the way before thrusting back into your hole hard, stretching it out so perfectly, filling you up so completely.

If he felt himself getting close sooner than he liked, he’d pull out entirely and then prod only his flared head in and out of your cunt, just past the tight first ring of muscles. The sudden, heavily contrasting emptiness and that teasing stretch – maybe a deft pinch to your clit – were enough to make you come undone. He loved watching how your pussy contracted around his cockhead, as if desperately trying to suck him in.

He loved interlacing his fingers with yours against the pillows, kissing you, making your knees touch your shoulders as he leaned over to catch your parted lips with his. He wanted you as close as possible when he came. Loved that you let him come inside you, that you insisted on it, even.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of Shota deep inside you, every throb against your walls like a flare burning you up from the inside out as he relinquished rope after rope of his white-hot release to you.

But you never told him that. You’d held it close to you like an ace you were looking forward to play when the time was right. Maybe on a video call a year or two down the line if one of you was out of town. Or maybe on the first night you’d both call the same place “home”.

He loved when you ran your fingers through his hair as he drifted off, when he finally, begrudgingly accepted the end of your day together and let himself rest. You found out, that one morning, that he loved when you woke him up with soft kisses littered across his shoulders and neck, so you’d made a mental note to do it more often.

You never got to do it again.