#monster truck band

[hungercityhellhound]

Bands I follow on Spotify with less than 500K listeners per month. I feel like it will be most of them. I will use the tag #<500K if you want to track along. I'll be doing 10 at a time.

Format Band name (# of listeners per month)

Lion (61K)

Monster Truck (214K)

Giuffria (20K)

Rock City Angels (649)

Girl (1K) -i.e. Baby Phil Collen and Phil Lewis

Turisas (446K)

L.A. Cobra (520)

Kick Axe (8K)

Junkyard (24K)

Blackfoot (319)

[gbhbl]

Band Interview: Jon Harvey (Bass/Vocals) of Monster Truck

Ahead of their raucous show in London as part of their current UK tour with Those Damn Crows, we spoke to bassist and vocalist, Jon Harvey of hard rockers, Monster Truck.

Ahead of their raucous show in London as part of their current UK tour with Those Damn Crows, we spoke to bassist and vocalist, Jon Harvey of hard rockers, Monster Truck. You can read our review of the London show here and a review of their new album, Warriors here. What follows is a select transcript of the interview. The full thing can be heard via Soundcloud, Spotify, Apple Podcasts and…

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 6)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2) // (Ch. 3) // (Ch. 4) // (Ch. 5)

One Year Earlier…

The car door opened just a crack, an attempt to keep the torrential rain from getting on the nice leather interior. Your mother struggled to enter the front seat without bringing the elements with her.

“Just get in,” Ward encouraged. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to get an invoice for detailing,” she explained.

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

She gave him a knowing look, now fully inside the car and safe from the storm.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” your mother said.

The windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as they swished rapidly. Your mother folded her hands in her lap as she took in the luxurious vehicle with judgment. Ward picked up on her distaste, but simply chuckled and shook his head. He had given up any attempt on getting her to like him back when they were in high school together. She had always thought him a showman, putting on a display she wasn’t interested in watching. He may have the rest of the island fooled, but she saw straight through him.

She flinched as he reached across her, calming when she realized he was only opening the glovebox. He pulled out a stack of envelopes held together with a thick rubber band. He dropped them in her lap unceremoniously, right on top of her folded hands. She didn’t pick the stack up right away, looking down at the one on top with a deep sigh.

“How many?” She asked.

“Seventeen,” he placed his hands on the wheel as if he was bracing himself. “They’re still coming once a week, like clockwork.”

“Have you read them?” She mumbled, still staring down, her eyes running over the handwriting, a prominent frown on her face as she studied the familiar little curve at the top of each letter “a”.

Ward’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, as they arrived at the conversation he was waiting for. “No, I haven’t, and neither should you. No good would come of that.”

Faint tears began to form at the crinkled edges of her eyes. The moment she felt them she pushed them away, sitting up straight and shoving the stack of letters into her purse. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, clutching her purse firmly to her lap.

Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have this conversation before losing his cool completely.

“We did what we had to,” he reminded her. “Look, I don’t like it either. But it was what’s best for both of them. And it’s too late now. We need to move forward. They will, too…eventually. Trust me.”

She looked him square in the face as she grabbed the door handle, preparing herself for the mad dash back to her own car across the vacant parking lot.

“I will never trust you, Ward,” she swore.

With that, she opened the door. She had one leg out, ready to hop down from the truck bed, when he grabbed her arm aggressively, making her gasp.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“I already have.”

Now…

Rafe looked up at you nervously, his eyes running up and down your face, looking for any reaction. He was on one knee in front of you, holding up the promise ring you were sure you’d never see again. The sight was so surreal you didn’t know how to react.

You were slowly coming back to earth after the heavenly feeling of being intimate with Rafe again. All of the emotion that had clouded your mind was clearing and the events of the past few days came back into view. Rafe spitting on the waiter he’d thrown in the dirt. The disgust on his face when you’d first said his name on the beach at the island club. The way he had pushed himself off of you just a few hours ago before sending you running out the door crying. The man who was kneeling in front of you right now was not the boy who had first presented you with this ring over two years ago.

But still, he had the same desperate vulnerability in his eyes now as he’d had then. That day you had thought surely the next time he presented you with a ring, it would have a diamond on it and he’d be asking you to marry him.

The image of you in a white dress, Rafe waiting for you expectantly at the end of the aisle, flashed across your mind. Suddenly, it wasn’t you in the white dress you saw, but your mother. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to the moment, realizing that your mom’s rehearsal dinner was tonight and you had told her you would make it. She said she didn’t want you to, but she always said things she didn’t mean, and this might be your last chance to fix things with her.

“What time is it?” You blurted out.

Rafe blinked back at you in surprise. He had prepared for either a rejection or an embrace, not to give you the time.

“I…uh, what?” 

“I left my phone at your house,” you explained. “Do you know what time it is?”

Rafe reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring and checked his phone.

“It’s four,” he informed you.

“Shit,” you walked around him and headed towards the door of the lifeguard tower. “I have to go!”

Rafe stood, shoving the ring back in his pocket. “What? Why?”

He followed you out the door of the small office. Once you were on the porch of the tower, you looked around quickly for any sign of the beach patrol you had been dodging, but the coast was clear. You turned back to him, blushing slightly at the sight of him hurrying to buckle his belt.

“It’s my mom’s rehearsal dinner,” you told him. “I need to get ready, I don’t even have anything to wear. Shit!” 

You descended the steps of the tower quickly, side stepping the rotted spots in the wood. Rafe followed you down, catching up with you at the bottom and rounding you so he was blocking your path to the beach’s exit.

“You’re still going?” He asked, his tone a swirl of anger and hurt.

You blinked back at him, feeling like the answer was obvious.

“Yes? It’s my mom, Rafe,” you said defensively.

“Didn’t she kick you out?” He questioned.

“Kind of. I mean not technically…it’s complicated, Rafe. You know how she is,” you struggled to explain. 

Rafe rolled his eyes slightly before looking over your shoulder, nodding.

“Fine,” he said. “C’mon, you can come get ready at my place. You can borrow something from Sarah.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that his frustration hadn’t escalated any further. 

You rode back to Tannyhill on the back of his bike, wearing his helmet, relieved that your identity was shielded from the nosy looks from his neighbors as you passed. You wondered how many girls they’d seen Rafe bring back to the house on his bike over the last two years. Your stomach twisted at the thought and you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, your arms around his abdomen.

You followed Rafe into the house wordlessly, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, wondering what had suddenly made him go so quiet. Once inside the door, Rafe dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and walked toward the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, taking in the house. You ran your hand along the back of the couch, Rose had gotten a new one, and you hated that anything had changed, even something so small. 

After a few minutes, when Rafe still hadn’t come back from the kitchen, you took it upon yourself to walk up to Sarah’s room, searching through her expansive closet for something to wear. You settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s certainly not something your mother would have picked for you to wear, but showing up underdressed was better than not showing up at all, right?

Rafe skulked in the kitchen for a while, slowly twirling the glass of bourbon he’d poured himself, but not taking a sip. He couldn’t believe you were still going to your mother’s rehearsal dinner. He had been naive, thinking that your mother kicking you out and the moment you’d shared in the lifeguard tower had finally sealed your return to him. Maybe you would never fully be his, maybe he would spend forever fighting to be first in your life. He hadn’t fought enough before, he should’ve gone after you, should’ve tracked you down. He threw back the bourbon in the glass and slammed it onto the counter with a sense of purpose.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara you found in Sarah’s bathroom, Rafe appeared in the reflection behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching you. Once you had finished applying the makeup, you stood and met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. You offered him a small smile, but his face remained still as solemn eyes held your gaze. Your smile faded when you felt the intensity of his look. You stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other. A look full of history, of unspoken words. The more you looked at him, the quieter the noise in your head became. All of the questions, the worry, the mystery faded and all that was left was him.

After a while, Rafe dropped his crossed arms and stood up straight, now folding his hands behind his back, emphasizing his firm chest under his t-shirt. He began walking toward you slowly, still not dropping his eyes from yours in the mirror. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your heart rate spiked, but you didn’t dare look away.

Once behind you, his chest less than an inch from your back, he dipped his head low and placed the softest kiss on your shoulder. The gesture was so tender, watery tears pricked the corner of your eyes. The brush of your soft skin against his lips undid him, and now it was him who was sniffing you, nose nuzzled into your temple, inhaling the scent he had craved so desperately for years. The glory of you invading his senses undid him and he had to place his hands on your waist to steady himself.

You leaned back into him as one of his arms snaked around you, his hand flattening against your stomach. He began peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you let your head drop back to lean into him. His other hand slowly crept up your torso until it rested over one of your breasts. It wasn’t crass or harsh, nothing like the way he fondled you on the couch just this morning. His touch was revervent, the way you hold something you lost and thought you would never find. 

You watched the embrace in the mirror and he continued dragging his lips over your skin. He was wrapped around you like a snake, completely enfolding you. Your eyes lingered on his arms, enchanted by the sight of his large, veiny hands on your body. Those hands that you knew so well, even after all this time, you could pick them out of any lineup. You never managed to unlearn him. You’d know him forever, even if you never saw him again. Your heart swelled with emotion at the thought.

The sensation of Rafe nipping at your earlobe pulled you from your thoughts and your knees went weak. You reached an arm up behind you and ran your hand over his shaved head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 

“Thought you hated my hair,” he chuckled into your ear.

“It’s just different,” you breathed as he squeezed you under his hands just slightly. “You’re different.”

At this, he looked up and met your eyes in the mirror, his chin rested on your shoulder. He looked bashful.

“Bad different?” He asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you admitted honestly.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” He teased, easing some of the intensity of the moment. 

You smiled back at him in the mirror and he ate it up, heart soaring at his ability to change your mood with just his words. Maybe if he kept talking he could convince you to stay, to ditch your mom’s rehearsal dinner and never leave his side again. 

“I dunno,” you shrugged, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would pick up on the hint that you want him to take control of the moment.

“Would this help?” He grips your breast tighter, making you gasp at the sweet pressure, 

“Mhm, I want more,” you closed your eyes and laid your head back full on his shoulder, surrendering to him.

He pulled the thin strap of your dress between his teeth, dragging it off slowly to reveal more of you. Once the strap has fallen fully down your arm, he licks a strip up your neck. When his warm tongue filled the shell of your ear, you sighed blissfully. When he pulled his mouth away and blew gentle air against the moisture he had just left, you fully swooned, swaying into him. 

He rocked with you and started rubbing his hand over your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass.

“You want me to keep touching you like this?” He asked, genuine interest in your answer.

“Yes, I love it, Rafe,” you said. “I need you.”

“Tell me where you need me, baby,” he groaned into your ear, your eyes now squeezed shut so you could take in the perfect sound of his voice. 

“Everywhere,” you were losing your ability to stay engaged in the banter, the feeling of his hands too electrifying.

Rafe notices how you’re fading, and decides not to ask any more questions. The hand on your ass moved further down, to the hem of your dress. He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft, plush skin of your upper thigh. He lifted the hem up until he found the edge of your panties, hooking his thumb over the waistband and leaving it there for a moment. He kissed your jaw sloppily and started dipping the rest of his fingers under the thin fabric one at a time. 

You braced yourself on the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other slid down his forearm until you found his hand, guiding it to feel the wetness now dripping between your thighs.

The realization of how wet he made you mixed with the feeling of your silky cunt hit him like a truck. He groaned and pushed the hardness in his pants against your ass. Your other hand shot to the sink edge for stability as his hand took over, his fingers beginning to dance over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

“This what you want?” He asked, his voice huskier than it had been a minute ago, as the feeling of your soft curves pushing against his erection sent shock waves through his body.

“Baby…” was all you could bring yourself to say.

“Missed hearing you call me that,” he confessed.

You opened your eyes to meet his, but saw that his were now clenched shut as he focused on making you feel good. In the reflection, you caught the clock on the wall, your mom’s rehearsal dinner was beginning soon.

“Rafe,” you tried to pull his attention.

“Y/n,” he moaned, misunderstanding your tone.

“No, Rafe,” you tapped his arm to get him to open his eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He said it a bit harshly, his fear manifesting itself into anger as it so often did.

“But-” you started to protest, but were cut off when he sped up the movement of his fingers, pinching slightly and rolling your sensitive clit between his fingers. “Fuck!” You nearly yelled as your body jolted forward.

“That’s it, just let me finish what I started,” Rafe said, his thumb taking over circles on your clit while his first finger reached down to dip into you.

You tried to talk, tried to tell him how good it felt, but no words came from your open mouth. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip on the sink. You pushed back into Rafe, wanting to share the pleasure you were feeling with him, but he pulled his hips away from you.

“Nah, not right now,” he said. “I’m on the clock here, baby, I gotta focus.”

He plunged a second finger into you and curled them upward, finally hitting your favorite spot that he knew so well. He had spent so long memorizing how to unravel you, he couldn’t forget if he tried.

Soon enough, he succeeded, and you unraveled completely. Rafe watched with unblinking eyes as your orgasm had you bent over the sink, crying out his name. He pulled you toward him, holding you up, as he whispered reassurances into your ear.

“Rafe, I-“ you cried.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed. “I always got you.”

Finally, your breathing steadied and you came back to earth. You turned in his arms and his hands rested on your lower back. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a grateful kiss to his lips.

“You still my girl?” He asked earnestly.

“Always.” 

You said it without really thinking, and immediately wondered if you shouldn’t have. Rafe clearly couldn’t see the doubt on your face as his own was filled with relief and affection.

Just as he leaned forward to kiss you back, his phone dinged in his pocket. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption and you giggled, delighted that he only wanted to be with you right now. He reluctantly checked the text.

“Your car is ready,” he explained.

“Oh, good!” you had honestly forgotten that your mom’s car was even gone, the morning feeling like a lifetime ago. 

“I’ll go get it for you,” he offered. “You might, uh, wanna redo your makeup.”

You turned quickly to look at your reflection in the mirror, the mascara you had just applied was smeared from the sweat Rafe had caused you to break.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I look like a racoon!”

“A cute one, though,” he said, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before exiting the room. 

You blushed at the simplicity of the moment, and the sweetness of the comment. For a moment, you let your mind drift into some delusional future where this is your home, and you are his girl, and none of the past two years happened. 

But they did happen. Your bubble burst and you were suddenly back in the real world. This isn’t your house, and there were so many obstacles in the path to the future you were still inexplicably clinging to. The biggest of them being that you weren’t sure you actually knew the man you just promised yourself to. The man who yells and fights and gets arrested. The man who managed to break your heart and stitch it back together in the span of a few hours.

The man who never answered any of your letters.

It started so innocently, you wandered down the spiral stairs to the floor Rafe’s room was on. You walked around his room with your arms crossed, taking in the familiarity of it. You opened his top dresser drawer, immediately closing it again, feeling strange about poking around. But you had to know.

You began rifling, opening every drawer and digging through it, not even bothering to set them back to the way they were when you were done. You told yourself you were just looking for the letters, curious if he had read them or kept them sealed, or even ripped them to shreds. But if you were being honest, this wasn’t just about the letters. Rafe still hadn’t given you the answers you were looking for, about what happened to his dad or how he ended up getting arrested. You were too scared to bring it up again, the whiplash of his mood swings today making you dizzy. You figured if you were going to get answers, you’d have to dig for them yourself.

You made it through Rafe’s room without finding anything significant. He had a few joints rolled up in his desk drawer, but there was nothing that satisfied your craving for understanding. 

You repeated your desperate actions in his bathroom, then Ward and Rose’s room, where it appeared Rafe had been sleeping, a mystery you’d solve another time. You made your way to Ward’s office, the room you were never allowed in when you were kids. You dug through the desk drawers, the filing cabinets, the old antique hutch - nothing. Then you remembered a time in high school when you and Rafe had snuck in here, needing to find some spare cash for concert tickets you had begged him for. Rafe had snuck into his dad’s safe, behind the painting on the wall. 

You slowly walked over to the painting, wondering if this was officially going too small. You didn’t remember the passcode to the safe, so maybe it was pointless, but something in you told you to try. You slowly pulled the painting from the wall, eyes widening at what you discovered behind it.

On one side, a gun. On the other, a pile of gold, diamonds, precious stones - a real life treasure chest. Apart, they could have many meanings. But next to each other, tucked away in a manner that was clearly not meant to be discovered, they told a story. You did not know how that story began, but you had the sinking feeling it hadn’t ended yet, that it was still unfolding, and that the moment you opened this door you had unwittingly become a character in it. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and picked up the gun. You were surprised at how cold it was against your skin. Your eyes widened when you realized how strange it was that you had even touched it, and you subconsciously held it further away from you, as if it was a cursed artifact. Something about the weight of it in your hands sent a chill down your spine. You were overcome with a sense of darkness, as though something sinister had entered the room. But when you lifted your gaze from the foreign sight of a gun in your hand, you found that the only thing that had entered the room was Rafe.

(Chapter 7)

a/n: she's aliiiive!!! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, life is crazy. I missed these two so much. If you're still here THANK YOU for sticking with me!!! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I had to get something posted and this is what I have. The rest of the story lives in my brain, alive and well and will be posted at some point I promise!! I think I have 3 or 4 chapters until I've told the full story.

[phoenixyfriend]

Palpatine is a Fail Girldad

Hi I have a stupid idea

Trans girl Ani AU where Palpatine is more invested in making a monster than in being sexist, so he still tries to influence Anakin etc.

Basically Palpatine tries to be a girl dad.

Crucially, he SUCKS at it.

The sexism is still there, just shaped differently.

Obi-Wan is a natural but Palpatine is like "a kindly Grandpa should give his granddaughter a fluffy SpaceCVS pink teddy bear with chocolates for Space Valentine's right?"

And like. He's so out of touch. He's asking her about boys. Or makeup. Or the latest boy bands.

Meanwhile Obi-Wan is trucking along as usual trying to make Anakin clean her room or do her homework or not pick fights with other padawans or stop eating dairy when she KNOWS it gives her a stomach ache.

@firebirdeternal:

and trying to find tech tinkering projects to point her at so she will stop disassembling the appliances god damn it I just wanted to wake up and make some tea why is the kettle on three separate countertops

@threebea:

Obi-Wan once he knows Anakin is actually vibing with the changes just goes back to default because Anakin hasn't changed in any other way Palpatine: I got you pink shoes 🙂 Obi-Wan: Didn't you have a meeting with Palpatine? Anakin: >_> well…

Anakin's mindset is very "he's trying but that is trying me."

Threebea: Meets Padme who is more than happy to go off about it

Padme likes to dress Anakin up but it's fine because Padmé treating her as a life-size doll is a sex thing.

Palpatine treating Anakin as a girly girl is sexism.

Padme treating Anakin as a girly girl is sexy.

Palps thinks every girl is like Padmé and the handmaidens.

@atagotiak

Obi-Wan has actually interacted with a fairly wide variety of girls. Which def gives him an advantage here

Obi-Wan to Palpatine is very:

Mostly still thinking about him as an absolute failure to girldad though lol

[quack-quack-snacks]

Drowning Without You By My Side

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Ever since losing everything, you felt like you were drowning. Trying to end it all wasn't successful when an unknown and unnatural force was hell-bent on stopping you, but when a near-death experience - unintended this time - causes you to tempt Death's grasp, you finally meet the force keeping you bound to the world. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers (slightly)! Slight panic attack, drowning, explicit detail of attempted suicide on the reader's part (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), cutting and bleeding (during the roll calls), Ah-yi being too cute for her own good, and Hyun-su being a fond little cinnamon roll and a great big brother (even if it's only for a scene), no use of (y/n). Word Count: 6,163

next

Hyun-su!

You woke up with a start, sweat slickening your skin and causing the slightly ripped t-shirt to stick to your back. It was designed with a band of which you'd never heard the likes of before the apocalypse started. Your breathing was quickened intensely and you wiped your hands over your face, pushing your palms into your eye sockets as you fruitlessly tried to calm your heart rate. It took several minutes of doing every method you knew to stop a panic attack before you were finally able to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs. You swung your legs over the edge of the hammock you had designated as your bed since you first arrived at the stadium all those months ago. To know that you hadn’t seen the boy you once called home in over half a year was a hard pill to swallow. You hated yourself for letting him go.

Hated that you didn’t try harder to follow after him.

Hated that you let the group force you onto the truck with them and head to the safety camp.

It was a never-ending cycle of self-loathing since you’d arrived at the stadium. When you’d found the secret exit leading out of the stuffy concrete walls you were trapped in, you found yourself leaving whenever possible. You couldn't handle the pitiful stares of your fellow Green Home survivors and the eyes of the citizens in the stadium who disliked the woman that protected the “murderer” of the chief’s husband. Although Eun-yoo and you did not really have any sort of relationship in terms of friendship, you had an unspoken agreement to protect and stand up for each other. If not each other, you had no one. The people you each had viewed as the closest to you of anyone had gone missing or even passed on to the next life. You both refused to admit that last thought out loud, though. 

Every morning, you would wake up and attend the morning roll call before getting dressed and leaving for the day until you returned just in time for the evening roll call.

Today would be no different.

You dropped your bare feet onto the frigid concrete floor and walked towards the bathroom, suppressing a shiver. The entrance to the bathroom had been taken off after an incident inside of the stadium. It involved none other than yourself and the elder brother of one of the boys who bullied Yeong-su when the two of you got into a fight. You can remember the exact words he had spoken to you after you talked to him about the boy’s behavior.

“The little shit deserves it. Being the little brother of a murderer and the devil’s advocate,” he’d said, referring to Eun-yu and yourself. “I hope he ends up becoming a monster. I even hope I’ll be the one to have the honor of killing him.”

You remember punching him square in the nose as soon as the words left his mouth. He’d flown backward and slammed into the bathroom door, successfully knocking it off the hinges and breaking the flimsy wood in half. You were positively seething at the absolute audacity the man had. Not being satisfied with how he’d fallen, you jumped on top of him and started pounding your fist into his face. You hit him over and over again, undeterred by the few hits he managed to get in, until you were pulled off of him. You started thrashing around violently when you felt hands wrapping around you to pull you off of him until you realized it was Park Chan-young, the young soldier who had been an alibi and friend to you and the rest of the Green Home survivors since you’d first gotten on that truck. A small crowd had gathered around after hearing the commotion and yells coming from the two of you before they all parted to allow Chief Ji in. When she saw you, her confused stare deepened to a glare but she ignored you in favor of transporting the brother you had just fought to the medical room. That was a hell of a day.

The inside of the bathroom was a regular locker room. Not surprising considering it was originally used for the players of the baseball team. The only difference was one of the walls was poorly rebuilt with rocks and bricks by Chief Ji and some of the stadium's residents after it was impacted by the missiles. 

Before you had started heading over to the bathroom, you had grabbed your small compact bag of hygiene supplies and brought it with you. Although toothpaste was hard to come by and you had to share the rations the soldiers found with your neighbors, you were able to find some on one of your days out. You brushed your teeth dry, not wanting to use any of the limited water on something like brushing your teeth. This had become something you were used to. 

Finally returning to your sleeping space, you didn’t bother changing out of the clothes you slept in and just decided to continue wearing them. The outfit was comfortable yet simple: a pair of oversized off-white sweatpants you had to manually make a drawstring for using a shoestring, and a short-sleeved dark blue shirt. Your shoes were the same ones you wore the first day this monsterization started. They were originally a pristine white you had tried your hardest not to taint, but now they were stained beyond repair from your adventures. You consider yourself lucky you had only bought them a week before the outbreak. They held up well throughout the year you’d spent with them as your sole pair of shoes. 

The morning announcement calling for roll call sounded through the silent air of the little enclosed unit you were lucky enough to be given.

Although luck may not have been the true cause. So many people were reluctant to be near you when they slept and complained enough times to the chief that she eventually just set you apart from the rest. Although it was lonely at times, you were thankful for the shred of privacy you had been granted. 

Once your shoes had been put on along with your sweater, you calmly walked down the hall toward the place where your assigned group met for roll calls. You arrived just in time to see Yeong-su slap away Jin-ok’s hand when she tried to pull him back from a soldier who was grinning meanly at him. You could see the built-up tears in the boy’s eyes that he desperately was trying to push away and rushed forward. Seeing the reasoning behind his tears, despite the consequences that you knew would ensue, you roughly pushed against the soldier’s back which sent him tumbling forward and his face met the ground floor with a sickening sound. You risked a glance to look back at Yeong-su and Jin-ok. Yeong-su’s arm was bleeding rapidly, seeming obvious that the soldier who cut him too deeply hit an artery. Hopefully, it wasn't a major one. The boy’s lip was quivering as he held back his tears. You could see all the emotions in his eyes: anger, frustration, helplessness, but mainly relief. Relief from you coming in to defend him. You quickly sent a look to Jin-ok and she immediately knew what you meant. She gently took Yeong-su’s hand and this time he didn’t resist as she led them both away from the scene and to their living quarters. 

You barely had time to let out a relieved smile before a fist was sent flying into your left cheek, sending your head snapping to the right and you falling back, only barely and painfully catching yourself with your elbows. You looked up at your assailant to see the officer who was tormenting Yeong-su standing above you. His nose was bleeding heavily and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was beginning the transition period to a monster. He wiped at his nose to no avail and sent you a heavy glare. He leaned down and roughly grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet and pulling out his knife. You held eye contact even when the blade roughly slashed across your forearm, right over an already existing cut. You praised yourself internally on how you kept your face entirely neutral and how the soldier looked angry and disappointed at your lack of reaction.

You gave him a slight smirk as you held up your bleeding arm for his view, the blood gushing down and covering your bruised elbow. “Happy?” You questioned tauntingly and your smirk grew as you saw the man seething. Despite his intimidating height, you couldn’t help but think he looked like a cartoon character with the way you were sure steam would be bursting out of his ears at any second. When he made no further move to continue the fight, you swiftly turned around and walked out of the room, smiling when you heard him yell in frustration and throw something to the floor. The knife, you presumed. 

You didn’t bother visiting the doctor to help you treat your wounds as you wrapped a strap of clothing around it and called it a day. Any respect you had for him instantly flew down the drain when you caught him drinking the rubbing alcohol meant for treating wounds and acting immaturely all the time. You walked in the direction of the exit, making sure to not be spotted by any soldiers as you did. When you finally got there and pushed the door open, you let out a breath of relief. The moment you stepped out the door and into the clean air of the outdoors, you felt yourself relax a little more than before. You found it odd how you felt more relaxed outside of the safe haven the stadium provided but you couldn’t help yourself. In the outdoors, you felt free. You could think without hindrance and allow yourself to feel an emotion that wasn't complete and utter despair.

The ground crunched below your feet as you walked across the gravel towards the green grass fields. You had no objective or destination in mind for today, you just wanted to escape the oppressive hands of your 'superiors.'

Walking on light feet, still making sure to keep your head focused on the area around you in case a monster appeared, you found yourself standing in front of a building. There was nothing special about this building. Half of it wasn't even attached as it lay broken in shambles around the structure. The ladder leading to the roof was rusted and had some of the metal bars sticking out awkwardly. The building in total was relatively normal and in good shape compared to those around it.

The only special thing about this building was the memories that it spurred within your head. 

You climbed up the ladder, tears blocking your vision as they collected on your waterline despite your deepest efforts. You lost everyone. You lost Hyun-su; the boy you called home; the boy you called your soulmate; the boy you loved more than anyone or anything else. You lost Ji-su, the girl you decided you could call your best friend after spending so much time with her on the first floor of Green Home for those days at the beginning of this mess. You even lost Su-yeong, the little girl you’d grown so protective over… gone without a second thought. You never truly had Eun-yu so it wouldn’t hurt as much whether or not she had died. The only person you truly felt you had left was Yeong-su. You hated yourself for doing this to him but only having him wasn’t enough to stay anymore. 

You felt like you were drowning. You were unable to handle the constant feeling of your emotions overpowering you. You’d heard so many times that it got easier as time went on but you never thought you would be able to overcome this. Although it might have been fitting to end your life by drowning, you just wanted a quick and painless death.

Falling solved that for you. 

When you finally climbed the ladder to the roof of the building, you couldn’t help the sobs that wracked your body. You hopped up onto the edge of the building and looked up. The sky seemed to perfectly oppose how you were feeling. Soft, puffy white clouds were fluttering through the atmosphere and forming different shapes you could just barely make out. The tears slipped down the side of your face as you tried to gain some sort of peace before you followed through with your decision. 

The wind was a gentle, cool breeze across your damp cheeks as you stood and glanced across the beautiful terrain below you. The grass had just barely begun to grow out of its perfect and well-maintained state, but it was still a wonderful sight to see. There were flower gardens surrounding the tall building, some crushed brutally by the falling of the walls but most were left perfectly untouched and thriving in the new world. The sight made your body calm down, the tears cascading waterfalls of sorrow down your cheeks slowly coming to a stop. You’ve heard of the acceptance of death people have when they know they’re about to die. You’d never thought you would have to face that kind of acceptance, never really thought the way you’d die would be because the world had been cruel and gave you too much pain for you to handle. You never thought that yet there you were.

There you were, standing on the edge of the tallest building you could find, one foot raised and hovering over the edge and you giving one last smile to the world before having your other foot join it. 

The wind screamed in your ears and you swear you could hear voices within it. Voices calling your name. Voices that sounded too similar to one you’d lost. You let your eyes fall shut as memories flashed through your mind. Memories of reading to Su-yeong and Yeong-su; memories of playing the guitar and singing with Ji-su, laughter interrupting each word because you couldn’t take yourselves seriously; memories of Hyun-su. 

Memories of shaking his hand when you first met him after he moved in across the hall from you in Green Home. 

Memories of him coming to you crying for the first time and confessing how he couldn’t stand being alive anymore.

Memories of losing yourself in his eyes when he smiled at you.

Memories of his touch against your cheeks when he leaned in to leave a kiss against your forehead.

Memories of him.

A single tear drop fell from your eye and you smiled at the thought of meeting him again, whether that be in your next life or the one that comes after death. There was no doubt in your mind that he was gone, and that thought alone was more than half of your reasons for wanting to end it all. 

Just as you were sure you were about to hit the bottom, a strong yet lean arm wrapped around your body and gently set you down on the ground before retreating just as quickly as it had appeared. You shot your eyes open only to be left with the blue sky above you and the intense wind that breezed over your body as whatever it was that saved you disappeared. For a few moments, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except stare in perplexment at the sky. As you sat up, you still couldn’t think straight and allowed your body to work on autopilot as it walked you home. 

It took a full week until you were finally able to come to terms with the fact that either you had imagined the whole thing or something - someone - had saved you.

A month after your first attempt, you tried again. You couldn’t handle the stares of disdain and hatred towards you after you had defended Eun-yu as others criticized her about her apparent murder of Chief Ji’s husband. Yet, just like the last time, you were saved miraculously last minute by that same strange force. 

You tried a dozen more times, all ending with the same result. It was so frustrating and you could barely handle the pain knowing you couldn’t even control your death, let alone your life.

The tears streamed down your face violently as you knelt and smacked your fists angrily against the wet, coarse dirt of where you were, once again, gently placed down after another failed attempt to end your life. The shredded noose hung limp around your neck and you ripped it off aggressively. You let out an agonizing scream from the deepest part of your lungs and it ended with more sobs as you let yourself fall onto your side with your knees pulled into your chest. Your loud sobs slowly quieted down but the tears never stopped falling. You stood up from the wet ground, your hair and clothes both stained by the mud below. Water rained down from the heavens, soaking your shirt and making it cling to your chest. Your tears blurred with the raindrops that splashed against you and slowly made their way down your face, disappearing down your neck and into the collar of your shirt. 

“Why are you doing this?” You yelled into the open air, receiving no answer. “Why? Why do you keep doing this? Why won’t you just let me die?” You choked on a sob at that last question and yet you still received no answer. Defeated, you decided to retreat back to the stadium and get cleaned up. When you returned, Jin-ok was the first to notice the bruising around your neck and your tired, puffy eyes. When she asked, you played dumb but you could tell she saw right through you. Luckily, she left it alone. 

You ended up curled up in your hammock for hours as you sobbed your heart out. 

Although the stadium might have been a better place to follow through with your plan, you refused to put your few remaining friends - if you could even really call them that - through that. Put them through the pain of seeing your dead body and knowing they might have been able to stop it. Even though you would be dead by then, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. The only way you would allow yourself to follow through was outside of the stadium.

But a certain someone, or something, wouldn’t allow that to happen. 

That was the last time you tried to end your life.

You’d had many dangerous encounters since then but every time they would be cleared out by your guardian angel before you could even really call them a threat. It got to the point where you felt more safe outside the stadium compared to within its concrete walls.

Sighing, you averted your eyes from the building and walked around it, focusing instead on the plants that were just starting to bloom in the early spring. The breeze was a welcome chill that rose goosebumps along your arms. As you continued to walk, your mind blank and your feet destinationless as you wandered, you came across a large pool of water.

And a girl.

She was young, and couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. It was such a shock to see her there, especially all by herself, that you didn’t realize she was sinking until it was almost too late. Without a second of hesitation, you jumped right into the lake and swam as fast as you could towards her. Grabbing a hold of her hand, you pulled her along as you swam back up to the surface. You dragged her towards the edge of the earth where the stable ground met the water and laid her down. Lowering your head to her mouth, you tried to listen to her breathing but instead, you got a headbutt to the ear. She shot up and started coughing up water. You ignored how your ear stung at that moment and instead rubbed along her back while she breathed heavily. 

“Are you okay?” You asked her and she suddenly snapped her head towards you, like she didn’t recognize your presence until you spoke.

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she hesitated before quietly asking, “Did you save me?”

You smiled at her shy mannerisms as she played with the hem of her wet and dirtied dress. “Yeah, I did.”

She looked up at you, almost surprised with your confession, and gave you a shy smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered before averting her eyes again.

You couldn’t stop the smile growing even brighter on your face at her adorableness. You looked around, seeing nobody else in sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you began to worry about who she was and why nobody was taking care of her. “Are you alo-”

Just as you started to speak, a wet and slimy tentacle-like appendage wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you back into the lake. You thrashed around but couldn’t unravel yourself from the monster’s grip. You saw your knife float away and sink further down the dark abyss that was the bottom of the lake. With it, the last of your newfound hope to live followed. Just as you lost the last of the reserved air in your lungs, a sudden figure dove into the water and wrapped its arm around you. Just before your eyes fluttered shut, you swore you saw the blurry face of the same boy who haunted your dreams. The boy who haunted your nightmares.

The same boy who haunted your mind as you stuttered between the line separating life and death after surrendering to the lack of oxygen. 

“Hyun-su!”

You screamed as you saw the military take him away. You lay helplessly against the side of the crumbling Green Home building as the pain of moving around too much from your wounds caused you to be dead-weight in your spot. 

He let out a scream of agony that ended with your name and you felt your heart shatter. He was surrounded by multiple people; doctors, scientists, and soldiers alike. Each person’s face was surrounded by a strange darkness. The only thing you could make out of their faces were their evil, wide smiles, and their eyes tainted a demonic red. The sight made you feel even more helpless and despair-ridden than before.

You could do nothing but watch as the love of your life was taken from you without a second thought. 

Hyun-su gathered you in his human-form arm while the other, extended in his monstrous form, swung back and forth through the water to slice at the monstrous being that dared to harm you. He didn’t waste much more time under the water to fight the beast as he noticed your eyes had slipped shut and you weren’t releasing any more air bubbles. He surged upwards, his wing doing most of the work as he darted through the surface of the water and onto the solid ground near the same little girl you had saved before.

Lying you down on the ground gently, he lowered his head to your mouth to hear if you were breathing, cursing quietly when he realized you weren’t. It was at times like these that he thanked whatever deity existed that he allowed himself to be persuaded by his parents to be a lifeguard for a summer. That way, he learned and was certified in CPR. 

Plugging your nose, he administered two breaths into your mouth before pressing his - now both fully human - hands to your chest. Just as he prepared for the first chest compression, you suddenly started coughing and turned onto your side as you continued to cough up the water from your lungs. He was so thankful there wasn’t enough water in your lungs that he would’ve had to break your ribs giving you CPR. 

But he would choose broken ribs over a body that wasn’t breathing any day.

After coughing your lungs dry, you fell onto your back with your eyes closed as you took many deep breaths. Suddenly, you remembered the face you clearly remember saving you and shot up into a sitting position, your eyes wide and surprised. Your gaze immediately fell upon him.

Hyun-su.

You held your breath as your eyes met and you stared at each other for a few moments. Your hand hesitantly raised to reach out for him. His gaze didn’t stray from your own as you brought your hand to his face, a mix between a sigh and a sob leaving your throat as you felt the soft skin of his cheek touch your fingertips. He was wet and cold, but he was alive. A smile grew onto your face but it dropped just as Hyun-su’s began to form. You yanked your hand away as if his skin suddenly burned you, and it might as well have. You could see the hurt expression taking over his face but the feeling of the anger, betrayal, and grief flooding through your veins overpowered any feelings of remorse you might have felt. Taking a quick moment to look around for the child you saved, you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw her innocently watching the interaction between you and Hyun-su, breathing normally and sitting safe and sound on the grass.

“Take care of her for me, will you?” You asked him coldly, not waiting for an answer as you stood up and started speed walking in the opposite direction. 

“No, wa- wait!” He scrambled to stand up, calling after you as you ignored his advances. “Stop!” He finally caught up to you and wrapped his hand around your bicep gently, turning you around to face him. 

“What? What the fuck is so important that you finally feel the need to talk to me?” You let out a sob of a laugh as you ripped your arm away from him. You could slowly see the realization of why you were acting so angry and upset dawn on his face as guilt settled into his eyes. “You’ve gone this entire time being just fine as you save my life just to leave me there, alone, time and time again. So please - please - explain to me what is now so important you feel the need to reveal yourself to me.”

You looked at him expectantly as his mouth opened and closed, looking for an answer. He seemed to find it as he finally said, “I just… I really thought you died this time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You looked at him, frustrated, for a moment before harshly scrubbing your palms over your eyes which were tearing up against your will. “So… what, after all the times you saved me, now you want to check on my safety?” Taking a deep breath, you forced your face to look calm, masking your anger for his sake so you could get out of this situation with as little hindrance as possible. You dropped your hands to your sides, your tears smeared across your face leaving it in a shiny glow. “Well thank you, Hyun-su, for your consideration,” you spoke the last word with bitterness lacing your tone that you could tell he caught as he winced softly. “But I am fine.”

You turned around, fully intent on heading back to the stadium when his hand wrapped around your bicep again. “What?” You asked angrily and turned around only to be pulled into a tight hug. You didn’t waste time in fighting his grip but he was relentless. “Let me go!” You screamed at him, although it was muffled by his shirt. “You’re such an asshole! I fucking mourned for you! I built a fucking memorial and brought a flower every single week without fail and yet you were never fucking dead! Why did you keep letting me think you were dead?” You were now pounding your fists into his chest, no longer resisting his embrace but expressing the built-up anger, sadness, grief, and self-loathing you felt every single day. It all stemmed solely from the way you hated yourself for not trying harder to save him. Not trying harder to resist Eun-hyuk when he told you and Eun-yu he would bring him back. “Was it you? Was it you every time I was stopped? Every time I was in danger, it was you who saved me, wasn’t it? What gave you the fucking right?” The crying started again. In turn, your hits became less and less powerful with each strike along with your screams gradually quieting. “Why did you have to leave me?” You sobbed out and let your head fall onto his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Your hands clutched onto his t-shirt as if trying to anchor him to you, scared that if you let him go, he would disappear again. Your knees gave out, exhausted by the emotional turmoil washing over you from the last five minutes. And so soon after death caressed you on the cheek too. Hyun-su caught you and slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, never once breaking the embrace. 

You sat in silence, only broken by the sound of your sobs as they slowly subsided. When you settled down, you spoke once more. 

“Did you know I was in love with you?” You didn’t feel any physical reaction from him that would express what he was feeling in that moment so you continued. “I never stopped. Loving you, I mean. I don’t think I ever will, but god, I hate you so much right now.”

There were a few silent beats where the only sound you could hear was the sound of his heartbeat against your ear until he spoke. 

“I didn’t think I would be able to handle seeing you again and find you with this exact reaction. By the time I left the military’s grasp, I tried to find you but then I saw you on that ledge.”

It surprised you and calmed your nerves all the same. 

“I knew I was just being a coward but I thought too much time had passed for me to just show up. Today was just a bit different.” He leaned back a bit to look at you and you did the same. He gave a small smile when he saw you again, with your wet eyes and glistening cheeks you looked wonderful. Even after sobbing your heart out, you were still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “My love, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I never stopped either,” he leaned in slowly so your foreheads rested against each other and your noses brushed. “And if you need time to stop hating me, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You looked into his radiating brown eyes as the last tear slipped from your own before bringing a hand up to cup his cheek once again. You let out a small laugh which he returned with an adoring smile. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his in a soft, unhurried kiss. He slid a hand up from where it was pulling you into his embrace to rest against the back of your neck as he held you against him. When the both of you were smiling too much to continue the kiss, you leaned back just enough to stare into each other’s eyes. The adoration and love you had for each other would be clear for anyone to see from the way you gazed at each other.

You suddenly pushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and hugging him once more. He sat still for a moment as he processed what you did only to wrap his arms around your waist. He hugged you just as tight and with just as much desperation as you did.

“God, I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear and he sighed shakily into the spot where his face was buried in your neck. 

“I missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry for not coming back sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me,” you reassured him and he physically relaxed, his shoulders untensing and him falling further into your embrace. 

The sound of the soft pattering of footsteps interrupted the moment you two were sharing. However, it was entirely welcome when you saw the little girl you had saved before standing beside you. You pulled away from Hyun-su, but not too far as he grabbed onto one of your hands. You smiled at him slightly, he was obviously just as starved of your touch as you were his.

“Hi there,” you told her gently when you turned back to her, not wanting to scare her in any way. “What’s your name?”

She looked down shyly, not answering until Hyun-su reached out to her with his hand. “It’s okay, she’s a good one,” he reassured her as he brushed some stray wet strands of her pin-straight black hair out of her face when her small hands were unable to. He took her hand and gently pulled her closer to the two of you. It made you smile as you saw them interact. The caring and soft way Hyun-su acted with her reminded you so much of a father interacting with his daughter.

It just made you love him even more.

He gave her one more nod of reassurance before she timidly introduced herself.

“M-my name is Ah-yi,” she stuttered out and you silently cooed at her adorable little shy smile. “Thank you for saving me, Miss.”

“Of course, Ah-yi, you are very welcome,” you gave her your own smile and some of her shyness seemed to fade away. You then gave her your name and she visibly brightened up. 

“You’re the princess!” You gave her a confused smile with a small laugh as she then began to explain. “Oppa’s told me stories about you! How you’re the princess of the big green castle and how he was a knight in shining armor who was saved by you, the warrior princess!” She talked animatedly with her hands swinging around wildly and her chest puffing out at the end to make her seem stronger. Your lips formed a big smile as you looked over at Hyun-su to see him lightly glaring at Ah-yi with a big blush coating his cheeks. 

“Ah, so you’ve told stories about me, have you?” You teased him and he looked at you before rolling his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled and you yelped as he yanked on your hand, sending you falling onto his chest with a loud laugh. 

You talked a bit more with Ah-yi, somehow ending with her laying her head in your lap as you leaned against Hyun-su with your back to his chest. The three of you watched the clouds, pointing out any shapes you could find and making up stories that Ah-yi seemed to love. Every time you looked over at Hyun-su, you could see all of his attention focused on you and how you interacted with the small child. 

Time seemed to fly as eventually, the sun started to fade into the distance, only leaving splotches of light shining through the leaves of the tall trees surrounding you. All three of you stood up and you glanced in the direction of the stadium with sad eyes. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Hyun-su yet. Even the thought of leaving the small girl you had grown strongly attached to in the past few hours broke your heart. Hyun-su seemed to sense your hesitation as he grabbed your hand. 

You looked back at him and he looked at you so fondly you felt like your heart might burst. With his thumb gently caressing your knuckles, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Stay. Stay with me. With us. You don’t have to go yet.”

He seemed just as desperate to make up for lost time with you as you were with him. His eyes widened and that smile you loved so dearly formed on his face when you nodded with little thought put into the decision. Pulling you closer with his arm circling your shoulders and one of yours circling his waist while the other hand reached out for Ah-yi to grab. She practically leaped at the opportunity.

“You ready, princess?” Hyun-su asked you in a soft teasing voice and you looked up at him with the same passionate smile gracing your lips. 

“Lead the way, my shining knight.”

~~~

Pt 2: Floating Above Those Dark Skies :)

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

[sarcasticassian]

Steve only starts lying once all the kids have moved out of Hawkins, their families going with them, some left straight after Vecna was defeated, like Eddie and the Sinclairs and Byers-Hoppers, they immediately move out, the others finish high school and Robin and Nancy have already left to go to college, Robin tried to get Steve to come with her but he had to stay and look after Dustin, Eddie tried to get him to come with him and Wayne but again Steve said he had to stay and look after Max but now they're all gone and Steve is alone in Hawkins

Eddie and Robin still asked him to move out to live with them, they'd both ended up in California in the music business but for some reason Steve still stayed, deep down worried that the monster would return and someone would have to look after them, he tells Robin and Eddie about the final touches to the rebuilding efforts, his newly blossoming social life and the dates he goes on each week in an effort to find the one, chattering away to Eddie about this band he heard on the radio, he speaks to Eddie more than Robin, she's at work a lot or with her new friends but she'll always snatch the phone of Eddie if she comes home when Steve has called

Steve is lying about his social life though, he rarely leaves his big, cold, empty house, his parents long gone, he goes to work, watches the final pieces of rebuilding slot into place from behind the counter and he goes home, flinching at noises he thinks he hears and staring into space for long periods of time before he snaps to attention and fears something is coming for him, nothing ever does though

he manages 9 months by himself, alone in Hawkins, before he cracks, he's speaking to Eddie on the phone, clutching the plastic so hard it might crack and Eddie is jabbering on about a new band he went to see this weekend, his voice warm and happy as he blabbers on and Steve isn't saying anything, closing his eyes and letting Eddie's voice wash over him, letting it be the only thing he's aware of and as soon as he hangs up he starts to pack a suitcase, shoving in anything he cares about and its only half full when he closes it, then he gets in his car and drives to the airport, he parks the car in one corner and goes into the building, he buys a one way ticket to California and waits for his plane

when he gets to California he realises he's not sure how to get to Eddie's house and he can't afford a taxi to take him all the way there so he asks a nice looking elderly gentleman how to understand the bus network and the man offers to drive him instead, says he's off to see his niece who lives close enough so Steve hops in, tense and untrusting but desperate enough that he grabs the offer, the man is quiet and he reminds Steve of Wayne, the few times he'd met him and slowly as they crawl through LA traffic Steve relaxes, tells the guy he's going to stay with a friend who he's missed since he left and the man smiles a little, Steve asks to be dropped a couple blocks away, not wanting to cause trouble for this man and he walks the rest of the way to Eddie's, going off street names and the directions the man with the truck gave him

it starts to rain when Steve is a block away, he thought it was supposed to be sunny all the time in LA and later Eddie will tell him it usually is Steve just has shit timing, but he turns up at Eddie's door, sodden and nervous and a little pathetic looking but he knocks on the door, unsure if Eddie will even be in but he hears clattering inside and then the door is being yanked open, Eddie stares at him before he's leaping forward and wrapping Steve in his arms, Steve starts to cry immediately and Eddie ushers him inside, it all comes pouring out like the rain he's just left behind and he tells Eddie everything, how he was withering away in Hawkins but he couldn't leave, not until today or yesterday, his times have gone funny

Eddie just lets Steve curl up in his arms and holds him, lets him get snot and tears all over his shirt and doesn't mind when the wetness of Steve's jeans starts to soak into his own, Eddie just strokes his hair and tells him its gonna be okay and Steve believes him, closes his eyes and lets Eddie's voice wash over him again but this time its not the only thing he's aware of, he feels Eddie's warm hands on his thigh and in his hair, feels the firmness of Eddie's chest against his side and he can smell Eddie too and Steve lets himself drown in it all

he's content enough that hours later when Robin bangs down the door, like she could sense Steve was around, he lets her bully him out of Eddie's lap and lets her curl around him protectively and Steve screams at himself internally for not coming here before but he's safe now, he has Robin and Eddie here and he smiles into Robin's shoulder when he feels Eddie's fingers tangle with his and squeeze gently

[calp0sa]

Favorite Headcanons for airy?

i have like 10 million headcanons for him but i’ll list as many as i can from the top of my head

-hes autistic LIKE ME!!! and is specifically very autistic about music (like meee) i like to think he had a huge collection of vinyls cds cassettes etc and its all stuff from the 60s to the early 90s. no doubt he had a bunch of posters for his favorite bands and musicians too. and hes awesome on the guitar, great rhythm guitarist… its a shame he couldn’t make his talent a profession like he once dreamed of doing. oh well, at least the number 1 perk of trucking is that its peaceful and you dont really have to interact with many people! plus trucks have radios, and cd players, so airy would often bring along a few albums to listen to as he drove those long days and nights.

-hes also got a knack for aquatic creatures (LIKE ME) of course, being a literal fish monster himself (cool fact my airy design is like actually a fish monster he can breathe underwater and everything and his limbs are covered in fish scales) airy loves fish both as friends and food. hes particularly fond of freshwater fish, which makes sense considering the fact he grew up around the swamps of louisiana (yes im making him louisianan Like Me shaddap) hes also fond of those fucked up looking deep sea creatures, just so fascinating. i think airy liked to do a little fishing in his spare time. And hes awesome at cooking em but fair warning for those with a low spice tolerance… he loves spicy food btw (like meeeee)

-when airy was in the forest, he kept a log of his thoughts on the computer, in an attempt to hopefully give himself whatever clarity he could. the notes ranged from all brief, to desperate, to hopeless, to spiraling, to borderline dadaist poetry? to insanity, to denial, to whatever, really i think his mind was obviously all over the place on a daily basis. things must have been pretty loud for him, that cassette player was probably one of the only things keeping him together, before he numbed himself n all, which is around the time he ceased writing these notes as he saw no point in doing so.

-ok enough about him suffering we’ll get back to that later Airy’s favorite drink is ginger ale i mean look at that guy and tell me he doesnt fw ginger ale or dr pepper are you kidding me. he can have dr pepper as a little treat (too much soda is bad for anyone especially if youre an old feller like airy) speaking of little treats i like to think he has an insatiable sweet tooth LIKE MEEEE and his favorite treaaats are pumpkin pie, macarons and practically anything chocolate he loves chocolate (im like allergic to not projecting onto my favorite characters if you couldnt tell) maybe airy knows how to bake a little bit i mean he is an object show host after all

-this is oddly specific but airy is a chronic pain warrior #JUSTLIKEME so when he was in the forest he’d make like home made heating pads by wetting a glob of moss and putting it against his face while he had his flame on (he sometimes put it on a plank over a bonfire if he felt like it) this was a bit tricky when he broke his face but im sure he managed he always manages (kinda) (relatively speaking)

-well anyway we’re back to the forest and i just mentioned his broken face So you know how he disappeared for seven months after he did that lol well what if it was because the pain and shock from that incident evoked the long lost clarity he’d been so stubbornly avoiding in order to cling on to his meaningless, fallacious escapism which triggered him and sent him into a state of agonizing self consciousness, reminding him of his earthly death, how he used to be Someone, and how he essentially let himself rot into what is now an empty shell of who he once was. after so many years, the first reflection he saw of himself was seen in something broken; shards of glass, of which he couldn’t stand to look at… as there is nothing comparable to the pain of revelation, the burden of truth after having been so lost and festered into the stagnant waters that surround you. he felt he had no choice, he disposed of the shards into the nearby stream. those seven months were not just a matter of physically healing, but as a means to losing himself all over again.

-Aaaanyway i think airy had a cat at some point in his life i think we can all agree hes a cat person right!!! he had a tortoiseshell kitty named goose and he loved her very much. idk why he named her goose he probably just thought it was funny to name an animal after a different animal.

-OH YEAH lemme bring amelia into this listen i am such a huge fan of the theory of airy being related to amelia so i like to think hes her uncle!! when amelia was little she’d stay over at airy’s house while her parents were away and he’d teach her stuff like how to fish, how to ward off snakes, how to kayak, all that jazz cuz he was an awesome uncle. she was kinda like an actual daughter to him. and amelia was so fond of sunny weather as a child, one dayy at airy’s house she had to stay inside because it was too rainy, so she occupied herself by drawing a little picture of the way she wished earth was; always sunny, sky always blue, grass always green, huh! the way she drew that grass as individual little triangles is all too familiar is it not…

OK I HAVE SOMEWHERE 2 GO now i’ll probablt add more later But thank u so much for asking this i love love love infodumping about anything airy related i heart airy

[the-hopeless-haze]

Worried About You

Chapter 4 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed On Me (House x reader)

“I need Vicodin,” Greg says to you, walking into your office. Well. Your office when you were here. You scowl slightly at the day-old coffee in your line of vision and think about how you’ll be scolded by the other people you share the office with the rest of the week when you inevitably forget that it’s there.

“Funny. I’m not your dealer,” you say.

You and Greg had hit it off, so to speak. Much to everyone’s chagrin and surprise, you continued seeing each other inside and outside the hospital. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about. Psychiatrists (or psychiatric doctors of nursing) are the worst patients and the best repressors. You did what you had to to be able to function like a member of society, but you were as fucked up as the rest of them. And you see Greg is similar. USA-renowned, if not world-renowned, diagnostician—but that was all he had besides a bum leg and a healthy dose of chronic depression and reliance on opiates to function.

When you finally had sex -heterosexual sex, dick in pussy sex - it was a frenzy fueled by alcohol and weeks long of teasing, and you saw glimpses of his leg in the midst of it and he saw the scars scattering your arms, but beyond the “oh, so you tried to kill yourself” he said to you when he edged you on the brink of orgasm the umpteenth time (and oh, boy, was that a mood killer) there were no comments about either.

But he kept you around and you weren’t entirely certain of why. It’s only been a month or so, and he’s not calling you his girlfriend or telling you he loves you, but he’ll still wine and dine you before railing you. And you don’t know if it’s out of obligation, if he feels like even though you’re not a hooker he has to pay you for sex, or if he genuinely enjoys your company. You think about how dissimilar you are to Wilson and how that’s the only person he keeps close. You wonder if maybe you remind him of his live-in ex that you’re almost certain he never got over. It’s a good time though, regardless. You make each other laugh. You both love The Rolling Stones. You begrudgingly agreed to be dragged to a monster truck show one night (“Wilson won’t come with me” he whined) and in return you made him go with you to see a local band perform that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in.

It was that sacrificing that made you pretty close to a real couple. Wilson pointed it out to you and he no doubt pointed it out to Greg. You made a snarky comment about his marriage and you wonder if you should compare notes with Greg to make sure you’re both not using the same lines.

You don’t know why you keep him around either, so it’s fair. It’s nice to have a fuck buddy, you suppose, and it’s also nice to almost like them as a human being rather than a sex toy. It’s certainly not because you think you can cure him, because you know you can’t. You wanted sex and you didn’t want a rehash. All things considered, he was a thorough lover and cared about getting you off as much as himself, which somewhat surprised you given how selfish he can be in other settings.

It’s not a bad arrangement. At least not right now.

But you’re fucked and you know it. It’s why you were drawn to work with kids in the first place. At least you’d always have a leg up on them. Someone out there thought you were sane enough to be rent an apartment and be a licensed prescriber.

Oh. Speaking of.

“Come on. You have a license to prescribe. Just once,” he begs.

“Yeah. No. I think you’ve got me confused with Wilson.”

“You’re much hotter,” he offers.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It got you in my bed.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah. Fair. But that’s as far as it’ll get you. You can be lackadaisical with your license, but I’d like to keep mine until I want to retire.”

“How’d I get with such a goody-two-shoes? Even Wilson will play.”

“He’s not now, apparently. What gives?”

“I bet Cuddy clinic hours that I wouldn’t take Vicodin for a week. They’re all convinced I’m an addict.”

You snort. “Okay. I hate to point it out so bluntly, but this is prime behavior for addiction. Searching all channels to get a fix because you can’t go a week without it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to do the week. But I need someone on standby. I’m only doing the week, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it prescribed afterward.”

“Chronic pain is outside my scope of practice. Best I could do is a suboxone MAT and say I’m detoxing you off Vicodin and keeping your substance use in check, but even that’s pushing it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“You can’t keep the clinical and the personal separate?”

“Nope. Could you? If I was your patient this week, would you be able to? Bringing your ex-girlfriend into this is what got you into this mess. Don’t bring me in to try to fix it.”

“I’m not asking you to fix it. And you have a medical background. I’m asking you to write the order I’m asking for. I know how to manage my pain.”

“Why don’t you get through this week first? Then maybe you’ll take me up on the suboxone,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You think I’m addicted?”

“Jesus Christ, Greg, you’re smarter than this. You know what happens if you consistently take opiates. I know you need them for pain. I’m not denying that. But to think you’re immune to the side effects? It’s habit-forming. You know this. You’ve been taking it for years. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms. You should be doing this in a detox facility if anything.”

“I work in a hospital. Opiate withdrawal never killed anyone, anyway,” he says, seeing no point in bluffing to you any longer.

“Maybe not. But you’ll suffer. I’ll meet you halfway, hm?” You say, looking up at him. “I’ll prescribe you comfort meds for the week. Ease you through it. Mirapex, vistaril, zofran, clonidine, bentyl…”

“Most of those aren’t exactly in your scope. If you want to be technical.”

“If I lose my license for any of those the board has far too much time on their hands. But you’re right. I’ll get Chase to sign them off.”

“Chase?”

“He’s the most desperate to get laid out of the three. I bat my eyelashes enough he won’t even question who the scripts are for.”

“Chase? Look at him. If he’s not getting laid none of us should be.”

You scoff. “I guess pretty boys do it for you, but not for me. But no…I can tell. He reeks of desperation.”

“It’s desperation to be liked by authority. Not desperation for pussy. He’s swimming in it.”

“Okay. We’ll see if he folds,” you say, winking.

Greg sighs. “Is this some kind of game?”

“What isn’t, with you? It’s all games, it’s all puzzles.”

“Why Chase?”

“I told you. I know you’d rather me go to Cameron, but unfortunately, I don’t think flirting would get very far with her. Foreman will never fold.”

“You don’t have other doctors you work with you could ask?”

“Greg, it’s just fucking comfort medications that you probably will have too much pride to even touch. Again. Not risking my career for you and letting people that actually respect me think I’m a nutcase because I slept with you.”

“So… you want to fuck Chase. Right?”

“Where in that insecure little man brain did you think of that? It’s your other head, right? I must want the sexy Australian because all the other girls are doing him? Because I want to ask him to prescribe meds? For you?”

He shrugs. “Matter of time. ‘Oh, I had to blow him, that’s the only way I could get him to do this’ or ‘oh, honey, good news, he said if I sleep with him three times a week he’ll prescribe your Vicodin’.”

“Stop with the immature bullshit. If I wanted to fuck him, I’d just leave you, not worry about the meds, and do it. Grow up, Greg,” you mutter, walking away.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenges, hating himself as the words leave his mouth, hating how unattractively juvenile he was coming across. But there were reasons, the need to push you away to see if he would get pulled back, the need to be contrary, the need to know. Know what, exactly, he’s not sure.

He already knows he’s in for one of the worst weeks of his life. Even if the withdrawal symptoms are mild, he’s going to be in terrible, unmanageable pain, and all the Tylenol and Motrin in the world aren’t going to even come close to touching it. And he’s going to be more miserable than usual. No pain relief. No euphoria from the high when he takes just one… or two… or three extra than he needs. He knows he’s addicted. He tries to roll it off his back, saying it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t change perceptions of him, it’s something he needs for pain, and it doesn’t affect his ability to practice medicine.

But sometimes he’s afraid. When James looks at him in concern but doesn’t offer any solutions because there aren’t any real ones, are there? He needs opiates for pain. Nothing else will work. Whether it’s pure heroin or your gold-standard synthetic hippy bullshit medication-assisted treatment… it’s still an opiate. Naloxone embedded in the pill or not. Having to go to a clinic to get dosed and having to have checks and balances on his use or not. It’s still an opiate. There’s still a stigma. It still pinpoints his pupils, lowers his respiratory rate, and hopefully, hopefully, takes the edge off so he can function but he knows. Addiction isn’t his specialty, he never wanted it to be, but he knows. One day it’ll be his last Vicodin, or the Vicodin won’t work anymore, and hey, you know what’s instantaneous? Spinal morphine. Can only use that card once or twice, have to tell Wilson he’s in excruciating pain and guilt him into enabling. He’ll only go so far. And then…well, then it’s IV heroin or fentanyl, whichever is easier to get, whichever is cheaper.

Greg knows that addiction treatment centers are revolving doors. He knows that you saw the same people back and forth and back and forth sign in and sign out, sign in and sign out. Change their medication plans a million times. And some of them still died anyway.

He’s afraid. He’s afraid of dying by his own hand by accident, alone and blue, nodding off forever. Sometimes he wishes for it, an end to the pain, but he also doesn’t want people to find him like that. A predictable end to a predictable story. World-renowned diagnostician died the same way a poor broke junkie did on the streets. Hooked on drugs, overshot it.

And it’s not that he thinks he’s better than those people. He knows he is those people. Even prior to his disability he dabbled in drugs, never enough to create a habit but enough to definitely indicate the potential of a problem. He’d tried almost every illicit substance “just to see how it felt” by your age. It feels good. Drugs feel good. It’s how they work. And your brain wants to feel good. It’s how they keep working and you keep using.

He knows. He’s in a vicious cycle he’ll never claw his way out of.

And you know it, too.

And yet you’re wasting your time fighting with him instead of walking away.

Why?

He doesn’t know that.

“Yeah. Why don’t I fuck him?” you snark back, turning on your heel and walking back toward him, drawing him out of his pity party and back into the misery he created for no reason other than to drag you down with him, make you choke on it with him. “I don’t want to. That’s why. I want to fuck you, although believe me, that thought is getting less and less appealing every time you open that fucking mouth and speak.”

“It does have better uses,” he quips, shrugging, almost visibly relaxing at hearing he was chosen, that he hadn’t scared you off yet.

You roll your eyes. “When does the detox start?”

“Now. It’s been a couple of hours.”

“So you wanted to kick it off and try to put both of us in a shitty mood to start with? Not your brightest idea, huh?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything and you nod, feeling slightly more in control now that you rendered him silent without any arguments. “Go home. You can’t think clearly if you’re going to be actively detoxing.”

“I still have to make them think I can function without it,” he says after pausing. He would’ve lied to you too, put up a façade with you too, but that’s the thing about addiction. It’s easy to hide dependence to people who don’t know what to look for, but you do. And you would smell it on him.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why take the bet at all?”

“I’ll get out of clinic hours.”

“Right. You would never do something like this to prove a point,” you say sarcastically, leading him out of the office. —————- “Why are you with him?” Chase asks. “And you care enough about him to ask me to use my medical license for a script.”

“You’ll see I don’t care enough about him to risk using mine,” you counter. “It’s comfort meds. Just write the scripts and I’ll leave you alone and we can go back to never talking, which is honestly how I prefer it.”

“I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I’ve heard enough, though.”

“Does he… what does he say about me?” he asks, a look between bewildered and terrified crossing his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Forget I said anything. You’re fine, I’m sure, I just don’t want to be entangled in the team. I already work with Wilson. One facet of House’s life needs to be separate from me.”

“Right. So you’re asking me to prescribe him medications.”

“As a doctor. Which is your job,” you point out. You sigh, looking at the pretty blond man sitting in front of you. Maybe Greg was right to be afraid. Most women your age would be begging to spread their legs at the thought of carrying this man's children. He's more stable, at least comes off that way, and he doesn't have an addiction and a crippled leg.

“Why stay with him if you know he’s an addict?”

Why are you staying?

You look at him for a second, reading his face. “You hate people that struggle with addiction, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them. I just think they don’t realize the pain they cause and it’s unfair to the sober people in their life.”

“Everyone is someone’s burden,” you say.

But why did you take him on?

“So you think he’s going to detox.”

“I know he’s going to detox. Which is why. Once again. I’m asking you to prescribe him comfort medication for the aforementioned detox.”

“You guys really like each other, huh?”

Why did he take you on?

“No. I want my week to not be miserable. This might lessen it a little bit.”

“Oh, and you’re deflecting just like he would.”

“Just prescribe me the damn meds, Chase.”

“You’re going to be miserable anyway,” he says, shrugging as he takes out his script pad. “You owe me one.”

You know he's not wrong.

“Yeah. You’ll get a psych consult on the house,” you agree.

“Why’d you ask me?”

You sigh. “Can’t ask Wilson. Too close. So it had to be one of you three. Foreman just wouldn’t. Cameron would ask me too many questions and she’d tell everybody.”

“And me?”

“Process of elimination, really. Thank you, you know," you say, deciding to leave out the part where he gets off on sucking metaphorical dick for the chance at appealing to authority. Sometimes you wish you were as crass as House. You come up with some good ones if you could only find the guts to just say them.

“He’s not going to take them.”

“Probably not. But I’m doing my part.”

“As what? His girlfriend?”

“His… friend,” you clarify, and you walk out of the office with the scripts in tow to fill at the pharmacy. Later you hand them to him and he takes them without a word. He opens all the bottles, takes one of each pill in his hand and he pops them dry. Terrible for his esophagus, you tell him, and he mutters something about how he’s wrecked his liver and everything else has to catch up. He opens a bottle of wine and you lean against his chest, barely processing the cheap soap opera flashing in front of you on the TV. He's already sweating, you can feel his shirt damp against your cheek. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he made a show of taking all those pills in front of you. Maybe to show your efforts were appreciated without having to say the words, even if he thought it was stupid. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to make this all suck less. Maybe it was because this was bending the rules a little, a detox with help, however minor, and he always wanted to see how far he could push before the consequences could roll in. Let’s cheat a little. Instead of a slice of pizza on a diet let’s have a hydroxyzine in a cold turkey detox.

He asked you to come over tonight but he hasn’t said much of anything or initiated much either. Why does he want you here? To know he’s not alone this time, that you’re willing to face the brunt of this pain with him when it returns, like Stacy was unwilling to?

You don’t know.

You don’t want to know. It’s best he keeps that information in his own head where it belongs. You don’t want to get too attached, too close, too entangled. This is fine how it is.

But you still wake up drenched in sweat that isn’t yours.

[in1-nutshell]

Established Buddy's Canon names

These are the Buddy's with established 'Canon' names with a mini description.

These will be updated with time.

TFP

Maxima

(TFP) Optimus daughter with the opposite personality

Alt mode: Monster Truck

Fun Fact: When Maxima was turned human, she grew particularly fond of orange sorbets.

Lithia

(TFP) Ratchet's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Non-emergency Ambulance

Fun Fact: Lithia has done solo karaoke nights when she has the base to herself.

Ophelia

(TFP) Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Monoformer (or chainsaw)

Fun Fact: Once Ophelia got together with Steve, she made sure to always have at least one day in the week reserved for date night.

Rapidfire

(TFP) Ultra Magnus daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Smaller semi truck

Fun Fact: When Rapidfire was little, she would sometimes crawl into Magnus's berth when the bombing campaigns got too loud.

Iron Bolt

(TFP) Bulkhead's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Family van (Think G1 Ironhide for context)

Fun Fact: Iron Bolt took up rifle training after a random practice round with Perceptor that soon turned into a regular things between the two.

Star Cluster

(TFP) Starscream's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: To avoid the confusion between her first name and her father's, Star Cluster has her friends call her Cluster.

Steel Mauler

(TFP) Old Predacon Buddy

Alt Mode: Dragon Predacon

Fun Fact: Steel Mauler prefers to stay in his alt mode than bi ped mode most of the time, it better for naps.

Gamma

(TFP) Bumblebee twin

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Gamma has a little heated blanket gifted from June and loves touching it during recharge time.

Thunderstreaker

(TFP) Kid Autobot seeker

Alt Mode: Jet

Fun Fact: When the kids have rough days, Thunderstreaker likes to take them flying around while they vent.

Red Cross

(TFP) WW1 medic bot

Alt Mode: WW1 medic vechicle

Fun Fact: Red Cross always has an extensive array of bandages in her subspaces, from plain gauze to colorful band aids for the kids. Always keeping it in stock.

Deadloop

(TFP) WW1 energon scout Con turn Bot

Alt Mode: Red Baron plane

Fun Fact: Deadloop once asked Red Cross to slow dance with him after seeing Mr. Fowler do it with his wife. It was one of the best nights he had during the human war.

Sonar

(TFP) Soundwave's Conjux with the sonic scream

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Sonar has a playlist with soft music made by the kids that plays on rough nights.

Weaver

(TFP) Bot Buddy with the personality of SG! Arachnid

Alt mode: Helicopter

Fun Fact: Weaver Likes to test out the durability of her webs by making little crafts or free falling and swinging around.

Boiler

(TFP) Old British Bot Buddy

Alt mode: Old locomotive

Fun Fact: Their guilty pleasure movie is Disney's 'Treasure Planet'.

Beany

(TFP) Predacon sparkling that follows Boiler

Alt Mode: Predacon (dragon)

Fun Fact: The kids love to babysit Beany when Boiler goes away, Beany listens to about 80% of what they tell him, compared to the bots which is 50% of the time.

Copperspring

(TFP) Wheeljack's younger sibling

Alt mode: N/A yet...

Fun Fact: Keeps tiny souvenirs from big missions. Their favorite so far was a funny looking rock they found while searching for Predacon remains. It looked a pigeon, a cute pigeon.

Palladima

(TFP) Breakdown's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: SWAT car

Fun Fact: Is a notoriously heavy sleeper and will not get up until her frame thinks its time to get up.

Susan Farmfield

Fun Fact: Not only is she a SCI-FI nerd, but she also likes to see old time 'scary' movies. Mainly to critic and see the special effects that were used back then.

TFA

Silver Aid

(TFA) Elita One's twin sister with the personality of Shattered glass Blackarachnia

Alt Mode: Spider

Fun Fact: Silver Aid had been planning on asking Optimus to be her Amica before the incident. She has thought about asking again once they reunited, but she has her doubts about it now.

Gamma

(TFA) Bumblebee twin

Alt Mode: Nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Gamma and Sari have teamed up against Bumblebee on multiple occasions, sometimes for revenge or just because.

Skyline

(TFA) Starscream's twin brother with Shattered Glass Starscream personality

Alt Mode: Jet

Fun Fact: Skyline has a personal vendetta against the Constructicon's. Will he tell why? No, but its defiantly personal.

Bumper

(TFA) Lugnut's younger brother

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Bumper likes feeling tall and likes to perch on Lugnut's shoulder.

Nightlight

(TFA) Batmobile Buddy

Alt Mode: Batmobile

Fun Fact: Nightlight has a fear of moths.

Blue Bay

(TFA) Megladon Buddy

Alt Mode: Robot Megalodon

Fun Fact: Sari once showed them Finding Nemo, they were singing 'Just keep Swimming' for 2 weeks straight.

Willow

(TFA) Fluttershy bot buddy

Alt mode: Golf Cart

Fun Fact: Willow was named after the first thing they saw when they onlined in the park.

Crate

(TFA) Buddy the triple changer

Alt mode: to be announced

Fun Fact: Crate is the name of the bot as a whole, the other faces have their own names.

MTMTE/LL

Juno

(MTMTE) Perceptor's younger sibling

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Juno is a cuddle bug in private and Rodimus loves it.

Moonstreaker

(MTMTE) Rodimus Prime's older sister

Alt Mode: Cybertronain Sport car

Fun Fact: Before the war, Moonstreaker had a pink paintjob that looked a bit like Hot Rod's. She changed it after too many bots started mistaking her for Hot Rod.

Wobbles

(MTMTE) Wobbly bot buddy

Alt mode: N/A

Fun Fact: They had a serial number as a name, Wobbles was a name started by some of their Co-workers and they chose to keep it as their actual name.

Fearless

(MTMTE) Fearless Human Buddy that Megatron accidentally adopted

Fun Fact: Fearless secretly loves when some of the bots read to them. So far, Megatron is in top 5. They will never tell him who outranks him.

Dratchet

(MTMTE) Drift and Ratchet's adopted Human Buddy

Fun Fact: In their room, Dratchet has a couple of 'protection' crystals from Drift by their bed. Drift's spark swelled when he found them in Dratchet's room.

Tim

(MTMTE) Fort Max's human son who is sick/weak

Fun Fact: Tim loves it when Uncle Prowl comes and visits him on Luna One. Prowl may or may not have a soft spot for the kid too.

TFE

Silver Aid

(TFE) Elita One's twin sister with the personality of Shattered glass Blackarachnia

Alt Mode: Spider

Fun Fact: Silver Aid has random migraines during the day. Especially after any day with Optimus, Megatron or Elita

Echo

Bot Buddy who's like Rumble

Alt mode: Mini rover

Fun Fact: They love having karaoke nights with the family.

Takedown

(TFE) Bot Buddy with the same personality of Knockout

Alt mode: Sport's car

Fun Fact: Their guilty pleasure is watching cooking shows/ contest and remodeling restaurants with Alex and Dot... and on the rare chance they have with Agent Schloder.

G1

Nova

(G1) Bot Buddy the dinobot with a crush on Bumblebee

Alt mode: Velociraptor

Fun Fact: Her tail like curling around or intertwining with her friends or loved ones. She doesn't realize it happens until someone points it out.

[hypersonic04]

'Tis The Damn Season

I know it's only september, but i just love writing christmas one shots so much lol. i hope you all love this because it was so comforting and cosy to write!!

word count: 3,574

Your boots crunch in the snow, muffled in the emptiness of the path you were dragging your suitcase down. You check your watch - half past two. You'd promised to be there by 1 o'clock, but work had kept you at your desk in London for an extra couple of hours.

If only they hadn't chosen a cottage in the middle of nowhere to be the family Christmas destination.

It was tradition: every year, on the 24th of December, everyone descended on your mother's best friends' cottage, hidden out in the snowy countryside. Fond memories of opening presents with your brothers and her sons, building their newly gifted race car tracks and trying to fit your Barbie dolls in their monster trucks. Now, though, things are different, evenings spent drinking wine and listening to how successful your brother's business is, rather than playing Monopoly and falling asleep on a 15 year old Ross Macdonald's shoulder. You cringe to yourself even now as you remember how clumsy and awkward you were - he was a couple of years older than you, and you vividly remember listening to him shyly talk about his band at the Christmas dinner table, cheeks turning pink and yours even pinker when he met your graceless, 14-year-old-crush gaze. You'd seen his success, and you were immeasurably proud of him, but there was always something that made your heart ache, seeing him on magazines and at awards shows, and knowing that your distant childhood memories were that, really: distant.

You almost cry with happiness when you spot the house in the distance. Your pace quickens, dragging the hefty suitcase along behind you. The sky is unbelievably clear and blue, the air crisp with December cold, a scarf wrapped around your neck and tucked into your coat. Your boots are rubbing at your ankles, your nose red and freezing - opening the door to the cottage you've been to every Christmas of your life has never felt as joyous as it does right now.

A room full of warm, lit up faces.

"She's here!"

The room glows with love. You're engulfed in hugs, kisses to your rosy, cold cheeks, your mum taking your scarf from you and a glass of mulled wine shoved into your hand. The Christmas tree stands in the corner, familiar ornaments hanging there like they'd been up since the previous year. You were the last person to arrive, one of your brothers sat on the sofa, Ross' brother attempting to kindle the fire, your other brother having an in depth chat with Ross' dad about Formula 1.

"You're freezing cold, my girl," Bella, your mother's friend, holds your hands in hers, "how have you been?"

She moves to hold you at arms length, looking at you like she did when you were a little girl. A fondness in her eyes, warm and homely, a sense of knowing.

"I'm okay! You know, busy with work and everything." Smiling at her, you squeeze her hands gently. Her eyes linger on you for a few seconds, lips forming a line.

"Well, you look as gorgeous as ever, darling." She tucks a curl behind your ear, tilting her head a little.

The creak of the stairs is what draws you away from her indistinguishable expression.

He's wearing a maroon knit sweater, dark wash, blue jeans, white socks padding down the staircase. His hair is what makes you swallow heavily, pulled back into a bun and his beard seemingly darker and a little longer than last time. He ducks his head under the beam when he reaches the last step.

"I've sorted the spare room, Mum-"

His face softens when he sees you. His mouth agape a little, stopping mid-sentence, the corners of his mouth curling upwards softly. He stutters over his words for a second before a string of 'hello's' and 'didn't know you'd got here's tumbled out of his mouth.

You can't hold back the smile that graces your face at the sight of him. It's Ross.

His mum steps to the side for a second as he makes his way over, raising her eyebrows at your mum like gossiping teenagers. You know exactly what they're insinuating, the same thing they've insinuated every year since you were about 13.

He smiles at you so softly, eyes creasing in the corner as he leans down to give you a hug. One arm wrapped around you shoulders, the other around your back, yours around his waist. The fabric of his sweater is so soft under your touch, his aftershave pleasant as you inhale gently. Closing your eyes for a second, you allow yourself to slot into his hold, the familiar pair of arms around you warming you up more than any fireplace or red wine ever could.

"What time did you get here?" He says, pulling away from you and shoving a hand into his pocket, the other coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

"About five minutes ago, I was running late anyway, but then the taxi driver wouldn't drive any further down the footpath." You laugh lightly.

"I'd have come to give you a hand if I'd have known, sorry, I-" He has an apologetic expression, eyebrows raising a little.

"No, it's fine!" You frown a little with a shake of your head, "I had no signal anyway, wouldn't have been able to ring you."

He nods in agreement, rolling his eyes, "I ask them all the time why they picked to live in the middle of a field." He laughs.

"Ross, did you take the turkey out of the freezer earlier?" His mum calls to him, the sound of her in the kitchen filling both your ears and nostrils, the delicious smell of Bella's famous Christmas Eve feast filling the room. He purses his lips, eyes going wide and a giggle escaping your lips, hand coming over your mouth.

"Shit." He laughs boyishly, "Didn't you ask Dad to do that?" He calls after her, walking off into the kitchen.

You stand there for a second, the grin on your face immovable, arms folded over your stomach.

"What are you smiling at, hm?" Your eldest brother raises his eyebrows at you teasingly, picking up your suitcase for you.

"Shut up." You huff, rolling your eyes in classic younger sister fashion.

The teasing about your crush on Ross had been a constant in your life. You'd never explicitly told anyone about it, but the way you reacted when they'd bring him up in conversation was enough.

"He's single, you know?" He mumbles as you follow him upstairs, into your spare room.

"Who's single?" You play dumb, keeping your eyes on the floor as he turns his head to you, scoffing.

"Oh, give it a rest. You bloody know who."

Setting your suitcase on the bed, he leaves you to unpack and get settled. It's the same room you stayed in every year - a singular, rectangular window overlooking the front garden, flowered wallpaper at Bella's persistence, her excuse being that she never had girls. The light blue bedspread brings back memories of Christmas mornings gone by, the boys waking you up because you were always the last one awake. Your mind wanders as you unpack, setting sweaters and mini skirts and sparkly New Years' dresses on the bed, so the tap at the door takes you by surprise.

"Sorry, 'didn't mean to make you jump." Ross stands in the doorway, greeting you with a creased grin.

"Oh, it's fine." You laugh softly, awkwardly even, playing with the hem of the pyjama bottoms in your hand. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering if you fancied going to the pub later? Rob said it's a pub quiz or something, thought you'd like it."

"Sure, yeah. I'll come." You nod with a sweet smile, watching as he nods back at you with pursed lips.

"We're leaving in about an hour, so..." His voice trails off a little, and you notice how his eyes move up and down your figure, blinking profusely. You suddenly feel conscious, standing there in a pair of old mom jeans and the most basic of t shirts, something you'd thrown on in a hurry. Christ knows what your hair looks like.

His eyes linger for a second, dropping down to the suitcase laid out flat on the bed. A smirk graces his lips, before turning on his heel and heading back downstairs, his footsteps light on the wooden floorboards. Your cheeks flush bright red when you turn back to the open suitcase - a pair of your laciest knickers, black with little frills on the sides, placed almost perfectly in his eye line, right next to a matching red pair. You stand for a second with your lips pulled inwards, closing your eyes. That did not just happen.

Post-unpacking, you head back downstairs and try to pretend that Ross seeing your underwear isn't the only thing consuming your mind. Everyone's sat around the living room, some Christmas special on the television, the faintest falling of snow like a picture through the window. It's getting darker, the warm glow of Bella's fairy lights in every nook and cranny bathing the cottage in the most festive light. It's freezing outside, but the company in the house makes it the warmest it's been all year.

Coats and scarves are donned, boots pulled on and hats on heads. It's the five of us, and the familiarity and nostalgia of it makes me feel warm. I look at their faces for a second, older yet the memories of our youth peeking through their boyish smiles and loud laughs.

"Be careful, you lot, it's really coming down now." Your mum looks through the kitchen window.

"And remember your key, Ross. I don't want you waking us up at God knows what time."

"Mum, I'm 34 years old, I've got my key." He rolls his eyes with a laugh, his mum fondly hitting his fleece-covered arm.

Your mum was right, the snow was really coming down now.

"Shit." You mumble as you stumble down the path a little, boots sticking in the snow.

The boys are a bit further ahead, as per usual, but Ross hangs back when he sees you struggling. He looks to them for a second, like he wants to tell them to wait for you both, but he decides against it.

"Shouldn't have worn those boots, you know. Docs are rubbish in the snow." He says, holding his hand out to you as you near him. You take it gladly, the material of your gloves sticking together. His hold is firm, keeping you stable.

"Alright, 'dad', bloody hell." You tease, the sound of his laugh heavenly.

"Sorry, sorry." He smiles, glancing down at you. He grins at the way the snowflakes settle in your hair, watching as you brush them off your eyelashes. "Always walking off and leaving us." He gestures to the three of them ahead.

"Some things never change, hm?"

"Yeah, I guess not."

He looks down at you for a second and you meet his gaze. There's something unspoken there, some ulterior meaning. He runs his thumb over your gloved hand, and you rest your head on his arm affectionately, feeling him squeeze your hand. There's a smile on both of your faces, knowing, just like his mum earlier.

"How's things with the band?" You ask after lifting your head from his bicep, looking up at him.

"Good, yeah. Really good." There's a look on his face that you don't always see when you're all sat around talking about work. He seems truly content, proud. "You should come and see us play. We're on tour in February."

Your face lights up at the suggestion and his stomach twists, the way your eyes widen and lips curve upwards making him toasty in the cold of the snow. It's darker now, street lamps lighting the path as you all trundle down it, but the glow that seems to exist when you're together is brighter than any of them.

"That would be wonderful." You smile sweetly and hold his arm with your other hand.

The boys wait up for you, and you find yourselves suddenly letting go of each other. They roll their eyes, surprised that the two of you are still keeping up with the 'we're totally not in love with each other' act.

The pub is bustling when you get there. Groups of friends who have evidently been day drinking laughing loudly, couples stood in dimly lit corners, music playing over the speakers. It's trimmed up with garlands and wreaths on every door, candles lit at every table. Ross heads to the bar whilst the rest of you find a table to sit at. You take the booth seat, as does Ross when he returns with five pints and a packet of peanuts, your favourite.

You do the quiz, and despite not winning, you treat yourself to a shot in the excuse of it being Christmas. Time passes on, people recommending songs and the night slowly turning into karaoke. You laugh into Ross' arm, slowly getting closer and closer to each other throughout the night until you're pressed into each other's side.

"I think I might go back, I'm shattered." Ross' brother yawns, your own nodding in agreement. You frown a little, looking at your still half full pint from the round that you'd payed for.

"We can stay, if you want." Ross nudges your side, your faces inches apart. "We're going to stay until y/n's finished her pint, lads."

They look between each other for a second before nodding in agreement, exchanging hugs with you and a brief "get back safe" before leaving. Your youngest brother pushes the door open with his back, giving you a thumbs up as he leaves, immediately making you roll your eyes at him.

"Do you want to stay for one more?" Ross asks as he watches you drink your current pint. You open your mouth and close it again, nodding perhaps a little too eagerly.

You never want the night to end. The rest of the evening is spent giggling together like teenagers over things that happened years ago, talking about past failed relationships, and everything in between. His arm is around you, the occasional kiss to your forehead or a hold of his hand.

"He didn't deserve you, y/n." He looks down at you with raised eyebrows and lips pulled inwards. "I knew it from the second I met him."

"Did you really?" You wince at the thought of everyone around you being able to see that your boyfriend is a dickhead, but you.

"Mhm, hated him. That was the worst Christmas of my life."

"Jesus Christ, Ross. I don't think he was that bad!" You laugh loudly and he shakes his head.

"What, watching him all over you for a week? Torture."

It takes you by surprise, and you can tell he's shocked at his bravery when he tales a rather large gulp of beer. You analyse his face for a second, a look of what might be panic on his face. He meets your gaze for a second before averting his eyes back to the dodgy singer doing a rendition of Last Christmas.

"Well, I never really liked any of your girlfriends, either." You quip, watching as he relaxes a little, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, really? Which one?" He cocks his head upwards, looking at you with intrigue.

"What was she called, the really tall one? She pretended I didn't exist the whole time I was here, Ross."

"Oh, yeah..." He scrunches his nose up, "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, it was ages ago." You shrug.

You sit in silence for a few seconds, both of you pretending to watch karaoke, but rather pondering what the other had just said.

"I don't think I'd like any of your boyfriends, y/n." He says suddenly, looking at you intensely. You try to read his mind, to see if he's actually just said what you'd heard.

"Why's that?" You frown.

"You know why." He scoffs. Your eye contact is intense, immovable, the brown of his eyes almost like a honey colour in the light of the pub. Your eyes flick down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. You've been close to things like this before with him, sat perhaps a little too close together on the sofa on Boxing Day, or sharing a cigarette outside on the seat swing when everyone else is asleep, but never like this.

"I don't know why, Ross." You play dumb, the faintest smirk forming on your lips. He watches your mouth as it curves, his own mirroring you.

"Don't be like this." He laughs airily, his arm along the back of your seat, body tilted towards you.

The call for last orders takes you both out of your moment, almost like coming back down to Earth.

"We should probably go home."

"Yeah, you're right."

You stumble out of the pub, the snow still falling gently, your bellies warm from the alcohol and company.

"Come on, you." He teases, hooking his arm through yours.

"If I remember right, I think it was you that nearly decked it last time we went out, so I should be looking after you, really." You giggle, watching as he groans a bit, shaking his head.

"Why are you bringing that up, seriously?" He laughs, admiring how funny you find the memory.

"Wasn't it about here, as well?" You point at the street.

"Oh, give it a rest." He holds the hand that's hooked through his arm.

The walk back seems to take forever, the two of you laughing loudly and being silly, the smile on your face the biggest all year. The lights are still on when you get home, the cottage glowing like a beacon in the dark, white-covered field.

"Do you ever miss being at home? You know, when it looks so pretty, like this." You ask, walking hand in hand, a little drunkenly.

"I mean, sometimes. I think it's more about missing the people and what being at home usually means. Y'know, being with my mum and dad, and you and everyone."

You come to a halt on the path leading up to the house, turning to him for a second. He's illuminated by the warmth of the house, his coat zipped up right around his neck, cheeks rosy and eyes drowsy.

"Can't we just pretend for the weekend, Ross?" You look at him pleadingly and he frowns.

"Pretend what?"

"Like we're not terrified of ruining everything. Just for one Christmas, can't we just pretend that we're not scared of what might happen?"

He looks at you for a second, his eyes scanning over your face for some kind of secret, hidden message.

"Are you sure?"

You nod, your brow down-turned for a second as you worry that you have, in fact, ruined everything.

The kiss he places on your lips proves that wrong. He holds your face in both hands, yours firmly wrapped around his wrists, leaning into his kiss. It's even better than you ever dreamed of. It's warm, and gentle, and perfect. His eyes are starry when he pulls away, dazed even, and your heart feels as though it could burst.

"Can we stay together tonight?" He says lowly, faces inches apart and still resting in the tenderness of his hands. You hum with a nod, following him onto the porch and into the house. Bella must've left the lights on, because everyone's asleep. It's silent, TV off and bedroom doors shut, and it's like you're teenagers sneaking around.

You head upstairs and change into the checked pyjamas you'd bought especially for Christmas Eve. Looking in the mirror, your cheeks are full and aglow, curls soaked from the snow that'd melted.

The familiar knock at your door doesn't startle you this time. He's wearing a t-shirt and plaid bottoms, his hands on your hips already comfortable. He walks you back towards the bed, the backs of your legs hitting it and his hold keeping you steady. You can feel him smiling as he kisses you, pulling away for a second.

"I can't even tell you how much I've thought about this." He whispers, looking down at your lips. You run your hands through his hair, now down and making your stomach twist in ways you didn't know it could.

"Me too." You whisper back.

The opening of a bedroom door and feet in the hallway makes you freeze on the spot. Your eyes widen when the bathroom door opens, the room next to your bedroom, whilst his crease in muffled laughter. You hit his shoulder, hiding your face in his chest. The two of you stand silence until the footsteps have gone back the way they came and doors are closed.

"Oh my god." You sigh, shaking your head with a laugh.

The two of you settle in the single bed in your room, his warm hands under your pyjama top, calloused and rough fingertips against your smooth skin. It feels like making up for lost time, lost touches, nights when you've slept in an empty bed and wondered whether he's thinking of you too.

And although it's the same room you've always slept in for Christmas, the same bed sheets, its the warmest bed you've ever known that evening.

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Roy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The cool guy, the main muscle, the roughest-n'-toughest member of Bowser's army! Get a load a' them shades.

Left-handed.

Owns at least fifty pairs of those sunglasses of his. They are also pretty much indestructible, thanks to a certain brother inventor.

A root beer fan! Root beer floats are one of his favorite desserts and guilty pleasures.

His "tough guy" persona is mostly for show, but he really does love his siblings. This does not exempt them from noogies and teasing.

Regularly works out, and is happy to have a gym partner in Lemmy. Granted, Lemmy leans more towards acrobatics than athletics, but he likes sharing the space with him.

Likes watching professional wrestling with Morton in his free time. Also likes to wrestle with Morton. And his other siblings. And anyone willing. And anyone unwillingly, really.

Dyslexic. He'd probably like reading a little more if it was easier for him, but his dislike of "nerdy books" helps with his whole tough guy image. He's a better audio + tactile learner, anyway. Ludwig’s been trying to get him into audiobooks with varying rates of success.

He wanted to own a monster truck SO BAD as a kid. Getting to participate for the first time in the kart tournaments was the best day of his life, and one of the most terrifying for everyone else.

Has a pretty balanced diet due to working out a lot, probably compared to most of his siblings, but he'll never turn down a nice rack of ribs, especially BBQ. Slow cooked and so tender it falls off the bone? Roy would kill a man.

No one, other than his siblings, knows his eye color. The story as to why he never removes his glasses changes whenever someone asks.

Knows how to sew, though he doesn't tell people often due to his "cool" persona. He learned it because he wanted to have patches on his jackets, and after pestering Wendy to do it enough times, she taught him.

While Wendy's definitely the more beach-y of the two, he also likes tanning in the sun and surfing on the waves. He prefers hotter temperatures to cold, and while he hates the winter and snow, he loves snowball fighting (especially dumping piles of it on top of his siblings).

Has a high tolerance for spicy things. He chews fire flower seeds when he's stressed, and has a particular fondness for good chili.

Knows his way around a car and its engine, and keeps a collection of vintage magazines of older muscle cars.

He generally doesn't deal with flowers, but he's got a soft spot for hydrangeas and lavender. Reminds him of childhood.

He loves chip snacks, all flavors of them. Ludwig used this to his advantage as a kid and turned him onto apple and banana chips. He keeps a stash hidden for cooldown munchies after a workout.

If he ever learned an instrument, it'd probably be either the bass guitar or a drum set. Larry is trying to lure him into practicing more so they can start a band.

A fan of classic rock music, with some hints of metal. He partially gets this from Bowser; so much so, in fact, that when paired with his knowledge of car maintenance and learning about speakers, ended up spawning Roy's Smooth Sounds.

While he's all for bucking the rules, especially if they're stupid in his eyes or it helps him somehow, he's actually one of the few siblings who thrives on routine. Makes it easier to put his time in 'blocks' and work around them if need be.

He keeps a calendar and in his room for remembering important events, both for the castle and things his siblings have going on. Wendy keeps trying to gift him journals to use, he keeps trying to remember to use them, and ends up forgetting regardless.

Likes watching car showcases and auctions in his free time. Gives him inspiration for customizing his own vehicles, since he and Iggy are banned from collaborating on cars since The Incident™.

While he can do magic with his wand just fine, it's not his preferred fighting method; why waste time studying spells when you can just punch the thing in half the time? He was, however, the second to learn how to transform his wand into a weapon.

Not a big candy person, but his favorites are malt balls and anything with peanut butter. Will also never turn down a nice slice of chocolate cake, especially if Wendy makes it.

Favorite fruits are cantaloupe and mangoes, especially if it's hot out. Avocado is pretty good, too, but he prefers that in dips and spreads, especially if paired with bacon.

What makes him especially dangerous isn't just his strength and his Bill Blaster, but his stamina; his determination to win, along with his ability to keep going in spite of all obstacles or enemies in his path, makes him kinda terrifying to face.

He's a bit of a night owl, which works out well for night school. It also means he gets to affectionately bully any of his siblings who think not sleeping is a good idea.

His favorite school subjects vary. Literature he doesn't do well in because of how subjective and interpretive it is, but he's good at math because of the consistent formulas. He's not too bad at geography, either, and history is interesting in small doses. Shop classes he does very well in, too.

Most likely out of all his siblings to get a tattoo. Probably something across the knuckles or on his upper arm.

He's one of the stricter siblings when it comes to his army, and runs a fairly tight ship, but he's also the kind of higher-up who will take the select few who do well out to a steakhouse to celebrate.

Cannot, for the life of him, stand menial tasks and busywork like sweeping, sorting papers, organizing, etc. He feels like he’ll crawl out of his skin from boredom. It's why he bribes his siblings to do it whenever he can.

He's a fairly good cook, and can follow a recipe with ease, he just doesn't like how long it takes. He leaves that to Larry and Morton.

Knows how to work a grill like nobody's business. You invite him to a cookout and he’ll make you the best burger or hot dog you could ever want.

His favorite sport is wrestling, as well as all forms of boxing. He’ll respect the rules in the ring if there’s something important at stake, but with his siblings? He fights dirty and does not care.

[humorisstoredinthetits]

The Heathers + Veronica go to Comic Con

Once a year the Heathers and Veronica go to their local Comic Con

'Local' is a stretch, its obviously not in Sherwood bc why would anyone in their right mind actually go there, so they drive to Columbus

They make a little trip out of it, none of them want to drive there, spend all day at the convention, and then drive all the way back

They take Duke's jeep bc its the only car that can hold all the crap they buy

Its around a 3 hour drive to Columbus, so they leave around noon the day before

Duke drives, her jeep is her baby and she will not let anyone else touch her under fear of death

Chandler rides shotgun, she gets carsick easily and being in the front helps with that

That leaves Veronica and Mac in the back

Chandler is a backseat driver, she is constantly criticizing Duke's driving, and if she goes even a single mph above the speed limit no one will hear the end of it

She's a massive hypocrite bc her driving is very reckless, but she insists that she knows what she is doing, unlike Duke and her 'monster truck lookin ass car'

Duke of course takes great offense to someone insulting her baby and they have a fight which lasts for five minutes at most before they get over it

Because of this Veronica and Mac bring noise cancelling headphones and nap the entire time

Chandler is also the person who makes them stop every five minutes bc she has to go the bathroom or she's hungry or whatever

By the time they get to the hotel Duke is about to kill Chandler while she's just thankful that the ride is over

They stay at some upscale hotel near the convention center

Once they settle in, they head to the pool with the attached hot tub

Chandler and Mac relax in the hot tub while Duke and Veronica take a dip in the pool

As revenge for being a pain in the ass during the car ride, Duke splashes the cold water onto Chandler and laughs while she flips out

They dry off and head back to the room, where they get to bed early

They have to wake up early to get their cosplays on

Duke and Veronica sleep together while Chandler and Mac take the other bed

Veronica set an alarm for like 3am

When it goes off she has to rush downstairs to get coffee (and tea for Mac) for her gfs so they won't be cranky

They quickly shower and get their cosplays ready

Some of the cosplays they've done include

Kessoku Band from Bocchi the Rock! (Mac was Nijika, Chandler was Kita, Veronica was Ryo, Duke was Bocchi)

Duke had to be Bocchi bc she was the only one who didn't have a character who matched with her color

The Gaang from Avatar The Last Airbender (Mac was Aang, Chandler was Katara, Veronica was Sokka, Duke was Toph)

The original animatronics from Five Nights at Freddy's (Mac was Chica, Chandler was Freddy, Veronica was Bonnie, Duke was Foxy)

Duke and Chandler fought over who got to be Foxy, Chandler said it should be her bc red is her color, but then Duke guilt tripped her and she gave in

Disney Princesses (Mac was Belle, Chandler was Aurora, Veronica was Cinderella, Duke was Mulan)

Originally they wanted to do The Wizard of Oz but then they saw Wicked and Mac really wanted to be Glinda so they went with that (Chandler was the Wizard, Veronica was Fiyero, Duke was Elphaba)

They then cross the street and head to the convention center

Once they get in they head to the Celebrity Area

The convention isn't exactly the biggest or most prestigious, but they still get a decent few celebrities

They brought a few things with them to get signed like funko pops or posters, and they'll spread out and meet who they want to

Veronica refuses to get anything signed by the anime VAs who are there bc she is a sub purist and refuses to watch dubbed

Once they finish up there they'll usually attend a few panels before heading to the Marketplace, which is where they spend most of their time

While they walk around people are constantly coming up to them asking to take pictures bc their cosplays are just that good

They also sometimes see Betty, Martha and JD there

Betty and Martha usually go as Wesley and Buttercup (who could've seen that coming) while JD does just the weirdest ones like Slenderman

They buy so much stuff, it's just crazy

They have to make so many trips back to the room to drop off their stuff so they're able to carry more

Chandler buys the least out of them bc she's the least nerdy, but she gets the occasional poster, figure, or the like, which is something they all get

Mac gets so many plushies

She is trying to collect a plush for every single pokemon, of which there are 1025, so she is constantly searching for the less popular ones and the ones only available in Japan

Duke and Veronica both are looking for collectibles, and they are both running ahead of the other to try and get a rare figure or funko before the other can see it

Duke is also a dice gremlin, and she can spend a good half hour looking through dice, trying to remember if she has this color or pattern already

One time Veronica bought a body pillow and Chandler was just so embarrassed that she refused to talk to Veronica for the rest of the day

Once they've scavenged the convention for all its goodies they'll return to the room and pass out as soon as they take off their cosplay

Once they wake up and have had their drinks they spend an hour trying to fit all their purchases into Duke's Jeep

It's like playing Tetris except they have to be extra careful bc if a box gets damaged then someone is gonna get mad

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Leverage - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Risk-taking behaviors...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

cw: unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, birth control

Snippet:

"I’m going to come," he gasps, and it's the closest to an admission of defeat he can bear.  

"Come." It's a husked invitation. "Come in me, bastard. Fill me up."

"Sevika—"

"Inside. Don't fucking stop."

She squeezes down like world's most decadent business handshake.

And, fuck, he's got no room to renegotiate.

His arms lock; his spine arches. The last few thrusts are blind, blissful. Her mouth catches his, unerring, and the noose snaps taut, a groan dragging loose as he comes, deep pulsating spills, and all the while her good hand cradles his skull, and she kisses him like she needs him to breathe.

It's a while before he remembers how.

He comes down, panting, and Sevika is still there. The full weight of her: a solid anchor. The only color in the room is the green bands of neon refracting in her half-lidded eyes. The only sound is her tripped-up heartbeat slowing back to a steady cadence. The only scent is brightleaf and sandalwood, undercut by the harsh enticing tang of satiation.

Hers, and his.

Sevika’s good hand traces the damp knobs of his spine.

"You okay?" she whispers.

"Hm."

"That was... intense."

"Hmm."

He can't formulate a better word. Can't quite meet her eyes. He's still buried deep. Still half-hard, even as the last pulses fade. He wants to stay here, and let the day's ugliness bleed away. Not even sex; just the body-closeness of two monsters, entwined in a patch of shadow so warm it could double as sunlight. 

Or a womb.

His good eye squeezes nearly shut.

"Sevika?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still taking the pills, aren't you?"

"You know it." Humid breath fans the crown of his head. There is the tiniest, most minute hitch.  "Don't want any truck with raising kids. Especially yours." 

"Of course." It comes out stilted, not quite right. "Just checking."

"We're good." Her good hand drifts south, between their bodies. They're both awash. "You came pretty fucking hard."

"So did you." The reminder brings a ghost of a smile to his lips. "Three times."

"Four," she corrects, and her fingers find the spot just above where their bodies are joined, and begin circling.  "Could rub out one more."

"Insatiable slut." He shivers as she clamps down. "I'm a man crossing a certain age."

"Your cock's missed the memo."

"It has an opinion. Rarely a good one."

"Oh, it's a good one. Good and hard. Keep it like that." Her fingertips stir, and her hips are moving again, a deep sinuous grind. "Fuck. Right there."

She is not just insatiable. She is incandescent. Her body clutches his, even as he softens: a forge that consumes all sense. Silco sucks in a breath, letting her jig herself off on him. The pleasure has ebbed into an aching after-throb. But the way she comes, soft rippling tremors, holds a breathtaking languor that is nearly as satisfying. 

Sevika subsides with a sigh.  Years of hard living have slid like sweat from her features. The glow of her half-lidded eyes holds a woman's rapture, not a soldier's pride. Silco doesn't often think her beautiful—not the way Nandi was, or the way Medarda is. But his gaze roves with an infinitude of hunger: a different sort.

One that's just as dangerous.

He'd never fucked Sevika's type, before fucking Sevika. Never saw the appeal: all grit and no glamor. But the willowy girls with the long-lashed eyes are beginning to hold less and less gravitas. And the hardbodied boys with the chiseled muscles are beginning to seem more and more blasé. He still prowls for flesh: a man who runs a city with a proclivity for the carnal seldom has to roam far. His menu of morsels remains eclectic, and easy to come by.

But whenever the meal is done, the aftertaste proves flat.

He's growing accustomed to a zestier kick. A stronger bite. To a body that fits his, and a heat that lingers: on his tongue, on his cock, in the darkest corners of his mind.   

To a place that's nearly home.

Except home, Silco knows, can always be leveraged against you.

[reasonsmandy]

You're my family

Daisy Jones x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @swiftgreatest — hello honeyy!! i want request a one shot with daisy jones with the prompt "If all I had was you and me... I wouldn't give it up for anything. " i love you and love your writing!!

✧.* summary — Daisy's change after the show in Chicago was hasty, difficult but the main point for her recognition of herself, and also the great opportunity for her to meet the love of her life.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 2.4k

✧.* 🎙️ — Daisy's masterlist

Daisy Jones had always lived life in the fast lane. As the lead singer of the iconic band Daisy Jones and The Six, she had traveled the world, sold out arenas, and lived a life that most people could only dream of. But despite the accomplishments in her career, despite the fans screaming her name, despite her songs being listened to by thousands of people, the emptiness wouldn't leave her chest. She knew that as long as she submitted to being by his side, she would never be happy with herself, as long as she didn't deal with the monsters she always hid she wouldn't be able to be happy.

As she listened to the audience cheering with the end of the song, the adrenaline that rose through her body revealed to her that this would be the last time, her eyes watered as she processed everything that was happening, as she understood the decision she was making.

Later that night she revealed everything to Simone, Jackson comforted her as she grieved over losing a family she had loved so much.The disco singer informed Teddy of the redhead's decision and asked for help to find a place away from the press and prying eyes, both then found a house where she could start over, take some time to herself.

Daisy watched her change getting off the truck in front of the new house, where she would restart everything where she would get to know herself again. The street where she was going to live was calm, well treed and seemed to have kind neighbors. She was excited for something after a long time, and it felt so fucking good to feel alive again.

"Hey neighbor." Daisy hears a female voice behind her and turns to face you. "Want some help with all that over there?"

"Oh hi, don't worry I think I'm done unloading everything." Daisy looked you up and down and felt butterflies in her stomach as her eyes connected with yours. "I'm Daisy."

She approaches you extending her hand, you accept smiling at her and when you look into that green paradise of her eyes a beat of your heart skips. "I'm Y/N."

And since that meeting you became inseparable, you were very important for Daisy's adaptation in the city, always helping her to know new places, where to buy things, helping her to clean up the house and organize her routine in her new place. Gradually you felt more welcome next to her, feeling that your day would not be the same if you did not see her. Daisy was like a streetlight on a dark street, that town had never been the best place for you, but since she arrived your life has been better, she was the color of your days since the first time you connected.

As Daisy settled into her new life in Willow Creek, she found herself feeling more introspective than ever before. She spent hours sitting alone on her front porch, lost in thought as she tried to make sense of her feelings and the world around her.

It was during one of these quiet moments that Daisy realized something that shook her to her core: she was attracted to women. The thought had never crossed her mind before, but as she reflected on her past relationships and her current feelings for you, she knew it was true.

At first, Daisy tried to push the feelings aside, telling herself that it was just a passing phase or a result of the upheaval in her life. But the more she tried to ignore it, the stronger the feelings became. She found herself drawn to you in ways she couldn't explain, feeling a deep connection that went beyond mere friendship.

But the more time she spent with you, the harder it became to ignore the way her heart raced whenever you were near. She found herself longing to be closer to you, to feel your touch and hear your voice.

…

"Knock knock." You say opening the door of Daisy's house.

"Ah, you've arrived!" Daisy says running to you, hugging you. "I was so excited to see you today, I prepared so much to show you."

"Calm down Daisy, breathe." You smile when you see her excitement. "I can't wait to see everything you have to show me."

"So, I started writing some stuff. "Daisy says pulling you to the sofa, you sit next to her admiring every detail of her face."Oh and another thing, I'm not going to cook for us because I'm terrible in the kitchen, so I ordered for us."

You can't contain your laughter, Daisy turns her head trying to understand why you laugh. "It's just that you change the subject so quickly, I think it's cute.You look so pretty when you're excited"

Daisy spreads a bigger smile on her face, trying to hide the blush that was growing on her cheeks. For a moment, they just looked at each other, their gazes locked. You felt a flutter in your chest, and she couldn't look away. It was as if time had slowed down and everything else had faded away, leaving just the two of you in the moment.

Daisy's lips quivered into a small smile, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. You smiled back, but your heart was racing so fast that you couldn't keep your thoughts straight. It was just a brief moment, but it felt like an eternity.

Finally, you looked away, breaking the spell. "So, are you going to show me that song or not?" You asked, your voice soft and gentle.

You spent the day together, talking and laughing about everything you had to share with each other, it was amazing how after so many conversations you still had so much to talk about. Daisy couldn't stop admiring you, it was like she was bewitched by something you did, she loved every detail about you, the way your eyes sparkled talking about what you liked, the way you danced excitedly to the records she had at home, your way of talking, everything was so charming and endearing.

You, on the other hand, were holding back from being honest and telling Daisy everything you felt, she was the most passionate woman you had ever seen in your entire life. Daisy was the meaning of passion, she was passionate about life, about music, she knew how to appreciate every detail of everything around her and that was something so captivating and you couldn't live without her anymore.

The two of you were in her bed, staring at the ceiling as you remained in comfortable silence, you played with the locks of her hair admiring the red strands braiding them in small braids.

"I needed this, you know?" Daisy says breaking the silence, making you look into his eyes. "I thought it was going to be a getaway for a few days, but now I can't imagine my life without all this…"

You smile at her, happy to see that little by little Daisy found her place. "I'm so glad you're finding yourself."

"You helped me a lot with that, you know?" With that information you raise your eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. "I never imagined that you would give me this, that this place would give me you."

"What did I give to you?" You ask, still confused.

Daisy is silent, second-guessing whether she should say something now, whether she could risk everything she already had for something so uncertain. But you made her want to take chances, all of that was very different from what she felt for Billy, it wasn't like a bomb that could explode at any moment, it was like a weathervane and you were the wind that made her move, that gave her energy.

"If it's too personal for you to say, it's not here anymore." You say after the great silence coming from her.

"You brought me back the good passion." The redhead says looking straight into her eyes. "I no longer see passion as something that hurts, because you made me see it differently."

You feel your body freeze at her words, slowly processing what she just said, you frown. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm in love with you Y/N." Jones says, smiling even wider. "That's the truth, I fell in love with you.

Daisy's words hang in the air, leaving an electric charge between them. You look at her, taking in every inch of her face as if for the first time. There's a warmth in her eyes, a vulnerability in her expression that makes you want to hold her.

"I... I don't know what to say," you stutter, feeling the weight of her confession.

Daisy steps closer to you, her hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "You don't have to say anything," she says softly. "Just feel it."

She leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's not fiery or passionate, but it's filled with a sweet tenderness that speaks volumes. You close your eyes, savoring the moment and the way Daisy's body presses into yours. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.

When the kiss ends, Daisy pulls back, looking at you with a soft smile. "I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits.

You can feel your heart racing, your body humming with a newfound energy. "Me too," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss, this time with a bit more urgency.

As your lips meet again, you know that this is just the beginning of something special. And you were so fucking right.

…

The days after that conversation felt like a dream to Daisy. She couldn't believe that you felt the same way she did, and it was even more surreal that you were willing to give up everything to be with her. But as you stood by her side, hand in hand, it all felt so right.

It wasn't long before you moved in with her, bringing your things to Daisy's cozy little house. The first night you spent together was electric. Daisy was a little nervous, having not been in a serious relationship in a long time, but you put her at ease with your kind words and gentle touches.

As the days went by, the two of them settled into a comfortable routine. They cooked meals together, watched movies snuggled up on the couch, and took long walks through the neighborhood. They talked about everything and nothing, learning more about each other every day.

It wasn't long before Daisy realized that she was happier than she had ever been in her entire life. She felt complete with you by her side, and she couldn't imagine a future without you. The way you looked at her, the way you held her hand, the way you laughed at her jokes - it all made her heart swell with love.

As the flowers bloomed, so did their love. Daisy and you spent hours exploring the city, trying new foods, and discovering new places. You stayed up late talking about everything and anything, learning more about each other every day. You held hands everywhere you went, and every touch felt electrifying. As you sat on the rooftop watching the sunset, Daisy leaned over and kissed you and everytime she did so, it felt like the first time. It was gentle, but full of passion and promise for what was to come.

Their love continued to blossom as the weather warmed up. You spent lazy afternoons in the park, picnicking and reading books together. You took weekend trips to the beach, holding hands as you walked along the shore talking about anything and everything. You were happy just being in each other's company, and your love grew stronger with each passing day. One night, as you lay in bed together, Daisy looked over at you and whispered, "I love you." You found yourself smiling, knowing that you had found your soulmate.

As the leaves began to fall, you both knew that your love was here to stay. So you moved in together, and everything felt even more perfect. You cooked together in the kitchen, danced together in the living room, and fell asleep in each other's arms every night. You talked about your future and what you wanted out of life. One night, as you sat on the couch, Daisy turned to you, her eyes showing you that she wanted to tell you something.

"What's wrong, my flower?" You ask, rubbing her hair.

"I want to have a daughter with you." She says catching you off guard, you can't contain your smile.

"Let's do it." You reply.

As the snow fell, you began the process of adopting a child. You spent months preparing, filling out paperwork, and attending classes. You talked to each other about what kind of parents you wanted to be, and how you wanted to raise your child. Finally, you got the call that they had been waiting for, and you were matched with a beautiful baby girl.

As you held your daughter for the first time, tears streaming down your faces, you knew that your love was stronger than ever, and growing bigger with this step. Daisy looked over at you and whispered, "I couldn't have done this without you."

You smiled and replied, "I love you more than anything in this world."

Dawn breaks as the soft light of morning sneaks into the room, casting shadows across the walls. Daisy stirs in bed and turns to see you sound asleep beside her, your daughter snuggled between them.

She takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her. She leans in to kiss your forehead, and you stirs, blinking sleepily at her.

"What time is it?" You ask, voice thick with sleep.

"Early," Daisy says softly, gazing at her girlfriend. "I can't believe we're moms."

You smiled, your hand reaching out to gently stroke your daughter's hair. "Me neither. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Daisy turns to face you, studying your face in the early morning light. "Why did you decide to stay with me?" she asks, her voice a little shaky. "I mean, with everything that's happened... Why did you stick around?"

You frown slightly, concern etched on your face. "Hey baby, don't say things like that," you say, cupping Daisy's cheek. "I love you. You and our daughter are everything to me. If all I had was you and me, I wouldn't give it up for anything. You're my family, Daisy. Always."

Daisy feels a lump form in her throat as she leans in to kiss you again, her heart overflowing with love for the woman of her life and the family you've created together.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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