#she just. asks us to do things if she notices they aren't done instead of yelling at us to correct the mistake

[disturbedheart]

The thing about working is that I've learned and have to still do more learning about how to interact with people and communicate. A lot of the time I'll automatically assume I'm being accused of something (because i always was growing up for things I literally never did) and so I respond with a huge fat attitude or just stare angrily or try to explain myself way over the top when in reality they were just asking and there was no blame. It's always like an okay, well if you didn't do it that's fine just do it now 😭 and if you did do it then oh okay! They take my WORD FOR IT? AND ITS TERRIFYING. You're not gonna make me argue my case only to call me a liar like my dad???

[crljhnn]

Sleepy kisses

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x gender-neutral Reader

Summary: You like giving your sleeping boyfriend kisses on the cheek. Your boyfriend likes receiving kisses on the cheek. But then Rodrick gets greedy.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: A bit of conflict but no intense angst

[Posted on AO3 as well]

In your opinion, your boyfriend is just the cutest when he is asleep.

There probably aren't a lot of people that would agree with you on that one. However, in your eyes, his slight drooling and open-mouth snores are just adorable.

Maybe this impression could be explained by the fact, that you both were still in the very early stages of your relationship. Having just made things official a few weeks ago.

That's why you couldn't resist giving Rodrick a small kiss on the cheek or the forehead whenever you found him asleep. Which, now that you think about it, has happened a lot more often in the last few weeks than it used to.

Rodrick was taking a nap after school when he made a great, revolutionary discovery.

You two had plans to hang out that day, so after your extracurriculars were done, you went straight over to the Heffleys' house. A difference you noticed that day, was that you weren't greeted at the door by your boyfriend like usual, but by his mother. After exchanging a few quick pleasantries with Susan you made your way up to his room.

Hearing someone come up the stairs Rodrick woke up. Assuming it was his mom he decided to act like he was still asleep, to avoid whatever chore she came up to assign him. So when he felt the bed dip beside him, created by you sitting down, he was surprised to hear your voice, instead of Susans, greeting him.

He was about to 'wake up‘ when he felt you gently placing a small kiss on his forehead, accompanied by a short gush about how cute he was.

And just like that Rodrick was hooked.

Everyone else calling him cute would have probably set him off, but when it came to you, every tiny compliment made butterflies burst in his stomach. You probably weren't even capable of offending him, even if you tried to.

After throughout research (aka fake sleeping a lot in your company) he came to the conclusion, that you just seemed to like to give him small kisses whenever he was dozing off.

Little did he know, that you were just as willing to give him those when he was awake. All he had to do was ask.

However, Rodrick being the dumb, lovesick puppy he was, decided that the most logical way to make use of this new information was to 'sleep‘ every time you entered a room. That way he would get the most kisses possible.

You on the contrary started to get worried. There seemed to be something wrong with your boyfriend lately. He was sleeping a lot more than usual, and that said something if you are talking about a lazy teenage boy, who even before took at least one nap a day.

Maybe it was a medical issue that caused him to get tired all the time. You hardly ever saw him not asleep. Was he not sleeping at night? Did he struggle with night terrors? Is there a way you can help?

When you first noticed his new sleeping habit, his naps were still limited to the first few minutes after you reached his house. The routine usually went something like that: When you arrived he would be asleep, you would gush a bit about him a little and give him a quick smooch. Then he would wake up about 10 minutes later.

But then it really started to pick up.

You would only leave the room for a short amount of time, for example, to use the bathroom or to get some water. Before, Rodrick always used to do things like getting you something to drink, for you. He was constantly jumping at every opportunity to do something nice. But all of a sudden he stopped. Now, after doing the small task yourself, you would return to find your boyfriend asleep.

And then he started to fall asleep with you right next to him. He would put on a movie or some music, then lay down on his bed or couch, and just minutes later he'd be out.

Another realization you have come to is that you didn't get to hear his soft snores anymore, which you used to adore so much. But that was likely because he didn't reach a deeper sleeping phase, right? That must be the reason, right?

Wrong.

One day you were coming over unannounced and that was when you saw it. While climbing up the stairs to Rodricks room you already called out a greeting, alarming your boyfriend of your presence. Like always, he threw himself straight onto his bed, closing his eyes.

What he hadn't realized, was that you were already able to see him from the position you were at.

And at that moment the self-doubt started. Did he not enjoy being around you? Was this his way of getting out of talking to you? Was he going to break things off?

Your thoughts kept spiraling, convincing you of the most horrible things imaginable. You felt hurt and tears were building up in your eyes embarrassingly fast. You had to sit down.

In the end, you came to the conclusion, that he never actually liked you and probably was making fun of you with his friends all along. Or he fell in love with someone new. Or he just decided one day that you were revolting. That must be it.

While you were drowning in self-doubt, Rodrick was getting impatient. Where was his kiss? Well, he knew he was probably pushing the limits a bit, but come on, that was no excuse for you to deprive him of his precious kisses.

Sneakingly opening one eye, he looked over at you, covering up his movements with a blatant fake yawn, trying to figure out what you were waiting for. What he wasn't anticipating, was to find you looking rather distraught, like you just saw a ghost and were about to start bawling at any moment.

Hastily he scrambles up and reaches for you.

"Baby, what's wrong? Oh my god don't cry, please don't cry." He was panicking. Rodrick had no idea how to comfort you. Now awkwardly petting your head. He was not prepared for this. Should he get his mom? She would surely know what to do. He didn't know how to console someone.

During his inner monologue, you were pulling away from him. "Why don't you like me anymore?" You sounded pathetic but were too upset to care about it right now.

Were you overreacting? Probably. But you're allowed to. Rodrick was your first everything. Your first real crush, your first real boyfriend, the first person you held hands with romantically, and your first kiss. You didn't know how to handle a situation like this, making everything quite overwhelming.

"What?" how the hell did you come up with that? He liked you, liked liked you. "Why would I be with you if I didn't like you? Who put this nonsense in your head? Was it Greg? I swear-"

"It was you! You don't like me anymore. What does your brother have to do with that?"

"Me?" What had he done to give you that impression, 'Come on Rodrick, think'.

"Yeah," sniffle "You don't want to spend time with me. And to think I was concerned for you! I was researching all the possible reasons for you to be so tired all the time. All while you were faking the whole time, solely to get out of hanging out with me! Why didn't you just say it outright? You coward!"

"That's not true!" Rodrick was nervous. How was he supposed to explain the real reason behind it all without making a fool out of himself? "We always still hung out after I woke up, so your theory doesn't even make sense. And I was always actually asleep!"

"That's not true. I literally just saw you throw yourself onto your bed the second you heard my voice."

"I was sleepwalking."

"Rodrick!"

"I wanted to scare you?" He was grasping at straws.

"Oh okay, that explains it all, sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Really? Great. So I was thinking we could- hey what are you doing?" Rodrick stopped in the middle of his sentence when he saw you standing up and crossing his room.

"I'm leaving. I can't force you to tell me the truth, but I also won't be sitting here playing 'happy relationship' with you."

You pulling away was the last thing Rodrick wanted, so he had no other option than, to tell the truth.

"No wait, I'm gonna explain. But it's embarrassing."

You cross your arms, still standing at the top of the stairs, ready to leave but again willing to hear him out.

He had no idea how to start.

„I just- how do I say this, look, you were right, I was fake sleeping.“

Honesty it is.

„Oh wow, I would have never been able to come up with this.“ You were indeed able to come up with this.

„But it was an accident, I swear!“

"Rodrick," You looked exhausted. "How the fuck do you fake sleep on accident?"

"It was an accident! At least the first time."

That doesn't explain much to you. The whole situation was still weird and confusing.

"So you just decided to make it a habit? And why were you fake sleeping in the first place?"

"The first time I had just woken up because I heard someone coming up the stairs. And because I was still in a daze from just taking a nap, I forgot our plans or that you were coming over. At least for a second. So when I heard footsteps I assumed it were my mom's and she was coming to bug me. So to avoid that, I acted like I was still asleep. Then I realized it was you, but before I could say something, you-"

"I?"

"You kissed me. And then I thought if you saw me sleeping again, you would also kiss me again, and you did. So I just continued acting asleep around you." Saying it out loud made him feel kind of ridiculous.

"Crazy suggestion, we are literally in a relationship, why didn't you just, I don't know, ask for a kiss?"

"Just ask?" he didn't believe that to be an option.

"Yeah. Like, 'Hey can I have a kiss?'."

"And then you would have kissed me?" It couldn't be that easy.

"Yeah? And you could also have had real kisses, rather than only ones on the cheek or forehead." Why was this so hard for him to grasp?

"Wow." He was still a mixture of skeptical and mindblown.

"So can we agree that from now on you just ask if you want something from me, instead of making me think you have some disease or lost interest in me?"

He nodded, still having a dazed, stupid look on his face.

"Thank you. And sorry getting so worked up over that."

But Rodrick was hardly listening to you, still stuck on the fact that he could just ask you for a kiss. He was pining over you for way too long, so now he had to sometimes remind himself that you were dating now. He had to try it out to believe it.

"Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course."

You lean over to give Rodrick a quick but sweet kiss.

"It worked, you kissed me."

Your boyfriend is an idiot. A cute idiot though.

[justmeinadaze]

What about a girl who on the surface seems to be happy. She's the one that is always there for people no matter what. Yet no one is there for her when she really needs someone. In a dark day where she thinks if she leaves the world no ones life would really change because she never really meant anything to other people. But Eddie finds her in a really bad state and somehow talks to her down and slowly overtime helps her feel wanted and loved. Shows her she's not alone.

A/N: I pushing this request and another someone gave me together because they were very similar. I get this to the core of my being and please never forget you aren't alone <3. You matter and the world is 100 time better because you're in it.

Warnings: Heavy material, mentions of emotional pain and depression especially feeling like no one cares and feeling like a burden. Enter with caution. I imagine a lot of us here have felt this at least at one point in our life.

Word Count: 2476

Everything is loud. 

Especially that voice that tells you no one cares.  Yeah you have your friends but they have their partners and their families. Yeah you have work but that’s all it is…work. The people you help are there for just that. As soon as you leave their peripherals it’s like you no longer exist. You have your family but it always feels like they are looking for number one…themselves. You’ve done everything for so many people and yet it feels like no one would do the same for you. 

It's not like you expect anyone to. You do things for people because you genuinely want to. Sometimes, however, it would just to be nice to feel like you were someone else’s first choice… 

Someone who woke up and was excited because they knew they were going to get to spend their day with you. Someone who while out in the world saw something random and their first thought was to call you to tell you. Someone who when you needed something whether it be to laugh or shoulder to cry on wouldn’t hesitate to be there. Someone who asked about your day because they were genuinely curious and not because they needed something. Someone who loved you unconditionally because you’re you.

It was a slow build up to tonight.

It starts with the little voice throughout your day telling you that no one would care. They’ll all move on after you’re gone. How long would it even take for someone to notice? No one calls unless they need something and you’re always the one to text first. You initiate meet ups with your friends and even then it’s hard to get everyone together. You fade in the background at work unless your boss needs someone to belittle. 

You haven’t seen your family face to face in so long. They always say their busy or their schedules are tight. Sometimes you call just to talk to your parents and no one answers. 

You had tried dating but most people you met up with just wanted sex. Anytime you tried finding a genuine connection, it was met with an innuendo that made your eyes roll. 

Today was particularly hard. Your account was overdrawn and you didn’t know how you were going to make it to the next check. Your boss said you seemed distracted and that you need to get your numbers to a better place or else you’d get a write up that could lead to a termination. You called your sister during your break but she didn’t answer instead posting online a selfie with her and her friends at lunch. You messaged a friend with a joke hoping to start a conversation about your worries without coming off like a bother. 

“I’m so exhausted. I wish I could meet a millionaire so I don’t have to work anymore lol”

She responded with a simple laughing emoji. 

You laid in bed scrolling through your phone at all the happy photos of people with their partners, other friends, and or children. They all seemed genuinely happy…why couldn’t you? You were really good at playing content but it took every ounce of energy you had. You didn’t want to pretend anymore. 

You wanted to place the weight of everything down for even just one day of relief while someone took you in their arms and told you that you were safe. 

The voice was practically screaming now in your head that you would never get that relief. The only way to end the pain is to remove yourself entirely from the equation. 

Your logic brain knew it didn’t want that but you didn’t know how to turn it off. 

Opening your front door, you ran outside in the rain in no particular direction hoping that you would end up wherever you were meant to be. You don’t know how long you were on your feet but suddenly you were swept off them as you fell forward into the mud beneath you. 

You heard a faint voice but it was hard to understand under the wind and thunder that shook the sky. A leather jacket covered your arms before you were lifted by your biceps and carried into a home nearby. 

“Jesus, sweetheart. Are you insane? You’re going to get yourself killed walking out there in this weather.”, the boy scolded as he shook his hair like a dog and took off the shirt he was wearing without any hesitation. “Fuck. Here let me take that here.” Grabbing his jacket, he rung it out in the kitchen and hung it on the counter. 

You watched him with wide eyes as he moved around what you realized was a trailer with purpose. 

“Alright, here’s a towel. Do you need to use my phone to call someone or—” The towel he handed you promptly feel to the floor when you didn’t reach out to take it from him, giving him pause as you both stared at it on the ground. 

His bare feet scooted against the rug as he placed himself in front of you and bent down to grab the towel again. You could feel his eyes scanning over you and when you glanced up to meet them you noticed they know reflected concern. 

“You know what? I’m being rude. I haven’t even introduced myself and I just pulled you into my humble abode.” With a big tooth filled grin, he extended his arms out wide and bowed. “My name is Eddie Munson and you are…?” He waits but when you don’t respond, he nonchalantly shakes his head as he stands to his full height again. “No worries. You can tell me when you’re ready. Um, I don’t think a towel will be enough and since it’s still storming you are more than welcome to use our shower. I have some fresh clothes you can change into and we can wash the mud off your outfit. If you want, of course. No pressure.”

“O-Ok.”

One of his eyebrows quirks at the sound of your voice before he flashes you another soft smile.

“Ok? Cool.”

***

When you step out of the shower, you can’t help but feel more relaxed under the steam that filled the bathroom. Eddie’s cigarette smelling clothes added an extra layer of comfort as they hung off your small frame. Glancing at the items on the sink, you smiled at the aftershave and hair product that lingered. Picking up his cologne, your smile grew as you inhale the smell that could best be described as home. You could get lost in that smell…

Continuing to dry your hair as you headed towards his room, you found the metalhead shoveling arms full of clothes that were on his floor into the closet. 

“Oh, uh, hey. Sorry. Yeah…my room isn’t usually this messy but…”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

His face visibly scrunched in confusion as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. 

“What makes you think you ruined my night?”

“I just…kind of…appeared.”

“Nice, pretty girl like you shows up on my doorstep. Introverts dream right there, honey.”, he chuckles as you blush. “Naw, you didn’t ruin my night. I was just going to lay here, smoke some weed and listen to some music. Would, um, would you like to join me?”

You think for a moment as your eyes take him in. Eddie had changed out of his wet clothes and put on a long sleeve shirt with some shorts that reached past his knees. His hair had begun to dry and frizz in an adorable manner that had butterflies flutter in your tummy. 

“Ok.”

“Yeah? Cool.”

“Y/N.” As he slides down to the floor, his head tilts when he hears you speak. “That’s my name.”

Grinning, he reaches under his bedside table and pulls out a little box with a couple of joints pre rolled within. 

“That’s very beautiful. So Y/N, is there a particular genre I should stay away from or are you openminded with music?”

“I’d like to think I’m pretty open minded.”

Eddie lights the end of the paper between his lips and his chest moves with every inhale and exhale before passing it to you. The effects are immediate as you feel calmness wash over you, handing it to him before laying on your back beside him. 

While you continue to listen to the music that plays neither of you says a word as you pass the joint freely between each other. The most recent song ends and a guitar rift begins to play that you feel like you’ve heard before. When you turn to look his way, your eyes lock with his earnest ones as if he’s waiting for you to recognize it. 

When the singer begins to sing the lyrics, your eyes close as you grab your stomach and laugh harder than you felt like you ever had before. Watching the way your personality unfolded has Eddie cackling with you until you were finally able to catch your breath. 

“Is that a fucking rock version of Lil Wayne’s ‘Lollipop’?! Oh my god it sounds amazing.”

“I have this weird fascination with rap songs turned into metal covers. It just tickles my funny bone the right way.”

“I love it.”

“And I love your laugh. It’s infectious.”

Glancing his way, you softly smile as you pass him the last of the bud in your hand for him to finish. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s nice to see you smile. You seemed a bit sad when you came in.”

“Yeah…we don’t have to talk about it though.”

“Do you not WANT to talk about it?”

“No, I just…you don’t wanna hear all that heavy stuff.”, you sigh as you sit up and lean against his dresser. 

“I mean I want to hear more about you, Y/N, and if that ‘heavy stuff’ is a part of you than I wanna hear it.”, he responds as he sits up as well. 

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I’m trying to, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to know? Like I said you don’t know me. Why do you care?”

“I care because I want to know why a gorgeous, seemingly kind woman like you was walking out alone at night during a thunderstorm. Whatever caused her to do that must be really hurting her and I know how much that sucks. I want to help…if I can.”

Your eyes take him in as he pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them to hold them in place. It was so odd to feel safe with someone you didn’t know. You weren’t sure if it was his smooth voice, the intense yet soft hues of his own eyes, or the protective concerned energy that surrounded him but you decided to take a leap and let go.

“When I get lonely…sometimes the voices in my head…get too loud. Not like you know voices, voices but just like that little voice…that makes the world…seem hopeless.”

“Like…no one cares about you to put you first and maybe the world would somehow be better without you in it?” When your gaze shifts his way, you find his have moved to the void in the floor in front him. “Yeah, I know how that feels especially when you hear it being reiterated with that voice.”

“It’s like an extra weight is pushing down on me and I can’t breathe.”

“You just want someone to take off some of that slack and tell you everything is going to be ok. And not because they want something or because they feel like they have to but because they genuinely want to.”

As you nod, you hastily try to dry the tears that fall before he notices.

“Y/N? I promise everything is going to be ok.” When Eddie slid closer to you, you couldn’t stop yourself as you climbed into his lap and curled into his broad chest as his arms circled around you. “You’re safe and the world is 1000 times better because you’re here.”

He continued to coo softly that everything was ok, rocking you gently in his arms as you continued to cry. 

################

Six Months Later

You beam as you hold Eddie’s hand at the table with your friend and her date as you wait for your food to served. 

“Hey, you know what would be fun? Maybe after we eat, we can head over to Scoops and try that new peanut flavor they have.”

“Oh, yeah!”, your friend exclaims with bright eyes. “I heard it’s so delicious.”

“I mean ice cream sounds great but Y/N can’t have that flavor. She’s allergic remember?”, your boyfriend replies nonchalantly as he quietly thanks the waiter as he places plates down in front of everybody. Without skipping a beat, Eddie opens your burger and steals your pickles he knows you give him every time before wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he eats with his free hand. 

Since that first night you met him, everything came almost easy with Eddie. For the first time, you felt heard and understood. Those first couple of months, you half expected him to disappear but every day he showed up with the same enthusiasm that made your heart want to explode. 

The first time you two fought, he realized it was because you were afraid to be open. 

“Sweetheart, how am I supposed to know it bothers you if you don’t tell me?”

“I just…I don’t want to lose you. I like you a lot, Eddie, and I’m afraid—”

“To be yourself? Baby, I like you a lot to. YOU… not some image of you. Don’t make yourself unhappy to make me happy. I don’t want that.”

From that moment on, you did everything you could to express how you felt and every time he tried to meet you in the middle. Every bad day, you were there for each other no questions asked. Every good day, you relished especially the small moments where you two would just lay on the floor and listen to music enjoying each other’s company without feeling like he’d rather be somewhere else. 

You were his first choice and he was yours. 

“How about we go to the arcade? They have that ice cream shop next door and then we can play some pool.”, you suggest knowing Eddie can smoke while you guys play as the music you both like plays. 

“That sounds like fun.”, your friend grins. “I’m not good with pool but I know Adam likes to show off.”

“So does Ed.”, you giggle. 

“Pfft, like you don’t like watching me bend over the table when I shoot my shot.”, he teases as he throws a wink your way before kissing your forehead.

##############

Eddie Asks/ Donate to me :)

Just in case y'all wanted to hear the song :P

[onmyyan]

Something Sweet

The sweet complex aroma of coffee followed you everywhere you went, a constant somehow comfortable level of noise flowed through the coffee shop, you were at the register doing your usual thing when the bell at the top of the door jingles.

Your head snaps up, bright smile on your face as you say, "Welcome in." It was a customary greeting you gave to all customers, but not to him, to him it was a special greeting. Caspian had discovered this quaint little coffee shop on his morning walk to his bakery, he came in for the first time last week and was blown away by your kindness, sure most baristas were kind but you were genuine in your kindness, something that caught his gaze immediately. The first this Caspian notices are your pretty (e/c) eyes, bright and welcoming in the way his mother's were. He's drawn to you immediately. You wore an all black, simple uniform but to Caspian you were the bell of the ball. He comes in everyday for a week straight bright and early before he opens his bakery, eventually he manages to slip his occupation into the conversation causing you to light up, "I've been dying to try that place no way!" You make plans to come in one day and to Cas, it's a date.

Gabe had been coming to the coffee shop for years, they made the best Americanos and he liked his coffee strong, but what was recently keeping him in the shop was the cute little barista they just hired, you. He was enamored from the first little heart you drew on his pastry bag. He'd been flirting his ass off since he laid eyes on you, putting the mack on to the best of his abilities, but you kept it cute, laughing off his flirtatiousness with expert finesse. God it drove him insane.

Ricky found himself in the quiet but still respectably busy coffee shop, his laptop in hand he walked in simply expecting to get his work done, but when his eyes met yours he nearly dropped his computer. The warmest pair of (e/c) eyes stared back at him with a kindness he hadn't been used to. Walking up to the counter he found himself smiling softly at you. "Hi, I'm Ricky." You aren't taken back by his strange greeting, instead you smile, "Hi Ricky, I'm (y/n)." You can tell he's taking a second to process the menu, at least that's what you think, what he's really doing is soaking in your features, how was it fair for someone to look so good in a simple black uniform? "What would you recommend?" He asks trying to keep his composure. His heart was pounding in his chest, only a thin counter separated the two of you, he was close enough to see the rise and fall of your chest as you pondered his question. "Our spicy mocha is pretty good, you seem like a spicy mocha kinda guy." She says teasingly, in a almost friend like manner, her playfulness wasn't doing anything for Ricky's delusions. He spent three hours pretending to write on his laptop while secretly recording you going about your workday without a care in the world, he watches you joke with your coworkers, watches you show the same level of care and respect to every customer, it all adds fuel to the quickly spiraling obsession.

The day they come at the same time is the day chaos breaks loose in the Delmont home

[peachetteprice]

Stern Captain John Price...

...Who is a total dog guy through-and-through but eventually succumbs to your cat's pretty face. It isn't an evening with him in your apartment without him muttering, whilst he's cooking;

"What?"

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, lovie?"

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Dearie me, you're very vocal today, ain't ya?"

Every time she meows for attention. In a voice so tender that you know he's never used on you. He relentlessly volunteers to feed the poor thing and asks if she can have more biscuits, despite your warnings that the vet advised not to over-feed her (because she's the most determined scavenger you know - you'd think she was a character on Lost with how desperately she screeches for any morsel of food in her immediate vicinity), but he still frowns, waits five minutes, then sneaks her a handful of biscuits - from his palm, which she gladly takes, because again, Lost, as well as him knowing that you'll hear it if they clatter into the dish - all the while, during which, he ensures via a dozen glances over his shoulder that you aren't about to chastise him for it.

Sweet John thinks you haven't noticed the extra chunkiness around her primordial pouch, but you have - you're just too kind to say anything about it (and you secretly adore the way his eyebrows raise whenever you announce that it's feeding time).

Do not be deceived that he won't still insist that he's a dog person.

Because he will.

Every damn time he comes around will he see your cat, fold his arms and say "you know, I'm more of a dog person, I am", only to rush to the couch and wait patiently - never staring, never moving a muscle because he initially assumes all cats are jittery, distrustful creatures worthy of the attention of a God, not a mere mortal such as himself (and he's not wrong with half of that drivel) - until she clambours on his lap and curls into a shrimp.

He gasps the first time it happens and exclaims;

"Love!" And tilts his head to her like she's a statue that he needs a secondary opinion to be given of whether it's moved before he checks (it has not).

Unfortunately, with all of the sweet things he does, he also actively asks if there's any housework to be done whilst he's over. Oh, because he wants to do it like the gentleman he is, considering you routinely give up your bed, body, and fridge for him? No. Silly! He wants to make sure you're running around like a headless chicken so that he can have a few more minutes of your cat sleeping in his lap, because as soon as your arse hits the cushions, she chirps up and crawls over to yours, instead.

He's a little bit confused when it comes to cats. He often watches her sleep, palms his beard, gives her a point - the same one he gives when he tells his boys off - and asks, most sincerely;

"Is she comfy like that, love? Won't her head ache after a while?"

But, oh, John, she's loafing! It's her natural state.

It takes him a long while to adjust to the various positions in which she clumps, the variable number of nicknames you give her on the daily, and the variety of noises your lips make as you call her to you, but John's a fast learner. Soon enough, she'd rather saunter his way and arch herself along his shin with a saccharine meow than respond to the fact that she needs flea-ing, even if you need her here, now.

Otherwise, she'll dirty the place up, and John'll complain about having an itchy beard again!

And we can't have that happen, because he spent all of ten minutes combing his beard - the same one she nuzzled her chin up against a few days prior - whilst you were undressed in bed, sighing, somewhat cold, waiting until he'd checked it thoroughly before he gave himself the all clear to eat you out until you came.

And the very next morning, what did he do?

He opened the bedroom door - only wearing his boxers - and carted her in to wake you up, yowling and purring. And, though you love her, and you wish nothing but happiness for her, it was something of a rude awakening when you'd rather be fast asleep, repenting for the hours of sleep you'd lost from being fucked within an inch of your life. It's something he catches onto, thank God, as he scoops her up by the belly - shit, he's getting really good at that - and tosses her out of the room, before sinking into the sheets once more to pepper kisses along your bare skin until, finally, begrudgingly, you wake up and he can play with her again!

(Oh, but he'll never admit he actually likes the thing. No. Never. Any emotion resembling that of pleasure is purely on behalf of you. It's what he thinks you'd like... and, with that being said...)

God forbid you make the mistake of mentioning wanting another cat because as soon as you do, he'll slam his phone on the counter, give you a positively wide-eyed stare - almost like a kid on Christmas - and insist that you should. Well, only because your cat needs a friend whilst you're both gone (despite the fact that she's four years old already...)

And, of course, with that territory comes a dozen screenshots of cats for adoption from Pets4Homes, Pre-loved and various animal trust websites that he think will be a perfect fit for your cat - when he really should be finalising paperwork - complete with a bemoaning message of:

Not trying to sway you in any direction, gorgeous.

Except he is.

Oh, and... what's that? Oh, yeah. It fucking works.

Because barely three months after he made his mark in your flat, are you placing a carrier containing a little tortoiseshell kitten (his favourite listing that he sent on the daily, and practically wa-hey-ed with delight during a very very serious briefing with Laswell at the prospect of being home that night to meet the kiddo) before the closed carrier of your cat, and - almost as if it was fate, played by the hand of God himself (John, that is) - they're more than happy to co-habit, and John's soon finding ways to sneak them both shreds of leftover roast chicken every Sunday.

The cheeky sod.

| Masterlist |

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: sex workers reader and toji, wrestling, he puts you in a headlock, ass slapping

as a sex worker under an agency, you sometimes get the opportunity to perform certain tropes that you wouldn't think too much about doing on your own. there have been quite a few that your manager has thrown your way; medical play, light BDSM scenes, and now, mixed wrestling. you've done your fair share of oiled up fighting with other women in your career, but you've never wrestled a man before.

its all staged, much like real wrestling except—except you're not too sure why or how you were paired up with infamous actor Toji Fushigurou. technically speaking, you two aren't anywhere near the same weight class, but you're not sure if technicalities even count for a job like this.

there are a few rules: no actual striking of each other, take the others underwear off during the fight, no biting. as the ref lists off all the other little things you two need to remember, you both take each other in. Toji is, for lack of better words, fucking huge. he's got at least six inches on you, packed with muscle and a nonchalant kind of finesse that makes you just the slightest bit nervous under his stare. he stands only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs, and you can make out the outline of his soft cock, despite the fact that it still rests low on his thigh.

he grins at you when he notices your ogling, winking once when you frown at him. he's been in the industry for so long, he's more than used to being objectified, but something about your little defiance that shines in your eyes makes him want to tear into you, piece by piece.

"Go!" the ref announces once she's finished listing her instructions. Toji doesn't immediately attack you, instead grins at you, hands on his waist as he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. with a, albeit weak, battle cry, do you lunge at him—

and quickly find yourself pinned. you don't know how he does it so quickly, maneuver you as if you only weighed a pound, but he does it. catches you in his arms and swings you around until your back meets the floor with a grunt, the wind suddenly knocked out of you. he's gentle though, where he pins you with his knees on either side of you.

"At least try to put up a fight," he teases you, pulling at the straps of your bikini. but you fight him off as much as you can, grunting and cursing at him, taking this entirely too seriously for what will ultimately end with you being fucked into oblivion by the man. doesn't mean you have to go out without a fight, though.

although, your fight doesn't mean much to Toji. by the third and final round, you're fully naked and he's still got his underwear on. your ass is slapped raw by how many times his too big hands have groped you, nipples pinched to sensitivity. you're not surprised when the ref announces your lost, tells Toji to claim his prize.

and he does just that. pins you on the floor, finally releasing the thickness of his cock. he's cocky the entire time, teasing, with how he pins you on your stomach, holding you in a headlock as he fucks his cock too deep inside of you to put up much of a fight anymore.

"Did you even try?" he asks, breathy, a smirk plastered on his face as he looms over your shoulder. "Or did you want to end up like this? With my dick in your stomach? The fight worked you up that much, huh?"

he taps your clit with too thick, mean fingers with his other hand, tightening his bicep around your throat when you try to get smart with him. he knows its all bark and no bite, if judging by the way your cunt sucks him in is anything to go by. you can only gurgle out a curse to him, eyes rolling back in your head when his wicked laugh only pushes you over the edge to climax.

(after the scene ends, he kisses your temples and squeezes your waist, telling you that you guys should do more scenes together. you only stick out your tongue at him, promising to get stronger so you can take him down next time. he laughs at you, more than happy to entertain your thoughts that will, truthfully, never come true.)

[libby-for-life]

So, can you do a sick one-shot with Adam and Lucifer? Maybe Adam has a fever and Lucifer reluctantly takes care of him. But then he starts to hallucinate things. Stuff that makes Lucifer question things about what he believes.

Oh? A challenge, hu? Since you didn't specify if this was my version of Adamsapple, I'm just going to assume that this is more traditional Adamsapple and go from there.

Sinner!Adam under contract with Lucifer.

Lucifer stood before Charlie with a sigh, feeling irritated. "Are you telling me that there isn't anyone else who can take care of him? I don't have time to deal with a whiney brat who is probably faking all this just to get attention," he grumbled. The devil was not convinced that Adam was genuinely sick. He wouldn't put it past him to fake it to receive special treatment.

Charlie replied, "Normally, I would take care of it, but I have a lot of paperwork to deal with." She gestured towards her desk, which was piled high with papers, making Lucifer wince. "Vaggie is busy with Niffty, Angel Dust and Husk are working, and Alastor is not an... option."

Lucifer shivered at the thought of Alastor taking care of Adam. The devil was under contract to protect the idiot from harm, but it would end badly for Adam if Alastor was involved. "Alright, I'll do it," he said, resigned.

"Thank you, Dad!" Charlie beamed at him, making him feel a little better. Teleporting to Adam's room, Lucifer hoped to catch him in the act of faking it but found himself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The only thing he could see was a lump on Adam's bed.

Frustrated, the devil snapped his fingers, and the lights turned on. Adam let out a whimper, making Lucifer roll his eyes. "Oh, stop it. Nobody is buying this pity act," he said sternly.

When he got no reply, he growled again, "The hard way it is then." He stomped over to the sinner's bed and ripped the blankets off him. "Get up now!" Lucifer was done playing games. If Adam was going to continue acting this way, he didn't mind using force to beat some sense into him.

However, to his surprise, Adam didn't yell, swear, or even glare at him. Instead, he let out another whimper. This time, Lucifer actually looked at Adam and saw just how different he looked. His gray skin had an ashy color, his breath was labored, and his shirt was missing, revealing how sweaty he was. It was clear that Adam was genuinely sick.

Lucifer felt slightly guilty for making Adam uncomfortable when it was clear he was miserable with a fever.

Placing a hand on the sinner's forehead, he hissed at the heat. "Oh, you are sick, aren't you?" He murmured. "Alright, let's sit you up."

Soon, Adam was propped up on pillows, wrapped up in comfortable blankets, and looking at Lucifer with dazed eyes. The devil knew that the demon wasn't truly seeing him due to his sickness.

Gently draping a cool cloth onto Adam's forehead, he noticed how the sinner's eyes followed his every move.

"You're so beautiful...." Adam slurred.

Lucifer froze and looked at him confused. "Hu?" He must've been really out of it if he was complimenting him.

"Beautiful...so beautiful. I can see why she left me...I didn't stand a chance."

Lucifer grimaced when he realized that Adam must've been talking about Eden. Whether it was Eve or Lilith he was referring to was still being questioned in Lucifer's mind.

"Let's not waste your energy." Lucifer finally said.

Adam whimpered again but he continued talking. "Lilith was beautiful too...but she didn't like me...why did she not like me?"

"Maybe because you were a narcissistic dick who wanted to control her?" Lucifer said with a glare. Any kind of sympathy he had for the sinner was gone. How could Adam even ask that?!

Adam shook his head, clearly too out of it to understand that the devil was insulting him. "That's not what she said..." He slurred out. A look of sadness came over Adam and, to Lucifer's growing discomfort, looked like he was going to cry.

"She told me I was disgusting...that she didn't want to stand next to someone so ugly." Lucifer was too stunned to speak. What?

"She didn't like me talking. I talk too much. She liked to gag me when she couldn't stand the noise. It hurt...." Adam was now crying, big tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Lucifer immediately asked. If he hated how Lilith treated him, especially if it hurt, then why didn't he make her stop? Adam certainly never backed down from a fight. In fact, he was usually starting them.

"I wanted her to like me..." Adam replied with a groan. His breathing seemed labored. "If I did what she wanted...then she'll like me....even if it hurt. Even if it made me cry." Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his hazy eyes looking into the distance. "No...she didn't like me crying. She said it was annoying and ugly so I don't do it anymore." It was ironic with the tears streaming down his face.

Adam turned his golden eyes to the devil who flinched at the devastating but resigned look on his face. "I guess I didn't do it good enough...she found someone better...someone smarter...."

A large hand cupped Lucifer's cheek. "Who can compete with angels?" And then he passed out. Lucifer didn't know that he was holding his breath until he started gasping. What the fuck?

[ronearoundblindly]

No pressure at all! But I had an idea for your ‘how would the Cevans characters react’ I’ve loved every installment of this so far 🥰🖤🥰

How would they react if reader was having an off day and for some reason couldn’t get off so she faked having an orgasm in bed.

Is this because of @cevansbrat0007's Ari fic? (which is great, go read that, but I feel like I've seen a surge in this trope since) Because, see, this is very interesting to me, and I really hope you've read other stuff of mine before, nonnie. I don't write everybody as a perfect gentleman...

Warnings for various levels of spice since we are, in fact, talking about orgasms, duh! MINORS DNI. See my Light Masterlist for all-age friendly fics!

James Mace

Ok, I'm not sure it would get so far as for you to actually fake it. Mace is a slow, steady, deep kind of lover. He'd realize you aren't getting anywhere or building up to it pretty quickly, all things considered, and he would make you talk to him while he continues foreplay/touching you. Pretty sure he just wants to be attached to you in some way while you have time together...

Curtis Everett

Curtis gets very intense when he senses you're holding something back, like predatorily intense. Uses his body to cage you in, constant eye contact, probably even pinching/tickling you until you confess.

He doubles down. You fake one; Curtis forces two out of you in return.

Jimmy Dobyne

Shockingly, Jimmy would be super upset if you faked an orgasm with him. (There is one caveat to this: IF HE FINDS OUT.) Jimmy is a straight-forward guy who doesn't enjoy dating games. You aren't into sex right now? Fucking say something. He's horrified by the idea you would just lay there and take it or whatever because what the fuck???

He's got simple rules. If you don't like something, tell him because he can handle himself for one night/a little while or he'll happily do something different. If you never want something he does, then you two shouldn't be together. That's it.

Sex is an important aspect of your relationship, but it ain't the whole thing. Tell him to piss off, or ask for a quiet night of holding each other. Do not lie, cheat, or steal. You lied about being satisfied, you cheated him out of the chance to actually give you what you needed, and you stole his confidence that he recognizes your body's signals. Yes, Jimmy sorta makes it about him, but that's mostly because he feels helpless and a little dirty.

Johnny Storm

Existential CRISIS.

Have you ever faked it with him before? Have other women faked it with him?? Is this a common thing??? Hot shot goes into full-meltdown mode, and unsurprisingly, you end up kinda lost in the narrative there, soothing him instead of yourself.

Oddly enough, you two do end up closer from the experience though because Johnny realizes that he very much values trust and honesty, whereas before he would have thought plain ol' fun the most important thing...

Jake Jensen

Jakey, my beloved, clueless noob... He doesn't really know what to do. He asks a lot of questions. What's wrong? What can he do? What do you want in this moment? Should he have done it differently? Do you need more? Something else? Was it him?

For a dozen times after, he'll ask if that one was real or fake. He's touchy about it, but 90% of his concern is just that you are actually happy. He puts in quite a bit of extra effort for a while after, too.

Lloyd Hansen

I am a broken record when it comes to Lloyd: he does not care. At best, he'd be torturing you to come for his own pleasure. At worst, well, he's there to get off. You don't need to.

If by some magical scenario Lloyd does give a fuck about you or your feelings, I think he'd expect you to take what you needed from him to climax. Otherwise, it's not really his problem.

Ari Levinson

Depends on his own mood for sure. When Ari is stressed or tired, he tends to turn inward and focus on his own feelings, not purposefully ignoring you but still. It reads like he didn't/doesn't notice and just continues on with sleep/the normal routine. If he's got the emotional, energy bandwidth to talk it out with you, he absolutely will. Don't take any offense. Sometimes he's muddling through like you.

Ransom Drysdale

Has no idea. Probably doesn't want to have an idea. Unless it becomes a regular problem, he's just gonna let it slide. He won't bring it up if you don't.

Steve Rogers

On the surface, Steve looks concerned and listens to your reasons for faking, but honestly, on the inside, he hates the idea that you felt the need to. Steve will easily forego sex in favor of literally anything you want to do, so to let it get all the way to love-making and apparently suffering through till he's finished? It makes him a bit sick. He'll get more more restrained and cautious in future, all for want of you never faking again.

Bucky Barnes

Feels like a huge failure as a partner. Spends a good portion of the conversation having you promise to communicate with him better from now on. This is from a man who has so many things going on in his mind that Bucky is often derailed from pleasure/enjoyment during sex. He's just very triggered by the darndest things, and you've been so understanding. Why can't he be that for you, too?

Thank you for asking!

A/N: I know these are a bit short. Let me know if there's one or more you'd like expanded on, but thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Asks; Ko-Fi]

[grims-sunshine]

hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲

Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!

I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3

🤍 Feel Better 🤍

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe

"I care about you."

It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.

You're pretty sure it's still true.

You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.

He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.

When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.

You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.

But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.

You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.

In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.

Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.

You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.

You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.

Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.

Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.

It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.

And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.

Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.

You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.

He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.

You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.

To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.

"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.

"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.

You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.

"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.

"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."

He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.

You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.

"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.

Damn it. He noticed.

"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Oh hells no.

"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"

By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.

"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."

Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."

He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."

This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.

You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.

You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."

Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."

Title inspired by this

[yokohamapound]

how ab head cannons of how good bsd men are at taking bras off like kinda ranking them ig

i have my own theories ab it so maybe we can compare them?

My magnificent friend, @amostimprobabledream, is guest-posting on this one! She's the one who got me into BSD, so this blog is entirely her fault!

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edogawa Ranpo, Tanizaki Jun'ichiro, Kunikida Doppo, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Edgar Allan Poe

Contents: Yiddies

Dazai Osamu

The obvious winner here. The Pro. The champ.

Dazai is a slut, and when they aren't threatening him for not paying back his tab, he's perfectly able to have the ladies falling at his feet. He's definitely got plenty of experience with getting a lady out of her clothing and scoffs at pitiful men who can't figure out how to unhook simple clasps. Fools! Barbarians!

He can do it one-handed. He prefers it when you wear front-clasp bras because he takes it as a sign you're just as eager for him to get at your boobs as he is. Imagine those pretty fingers easily working the little hooks~

He does sometimes wear your bra on his head as a joke. So you know, that's a risk you run.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Listen this man has been around, okay? He almost single-handedly toppled the Port Mafia and Armed Detective Agency, he can handle a silly contraption of cotton and underwiring.

Fyodor doesn't like to tear at your clothing like a beast. He has class, okay? Instead he might as you to strip for him - just picture him lounging back in his seat, wineglass in hand while he watches you with those hungry, purple eyes of his. It's worth it just for that to put on a little show for him.

He likes to kiss you as he does it, distracting you as his nimble, pale fingers get to work. He's so skilled that he can actually unhook your bra without you even noticing and you'll find it discarded on a chair or the floor like a magic trick.

Edogawa Ranpo

Hmph, of course he can take off a bra! Don't be silly!

Ranpo is the ultimate detective, after all. A silly little hook in a piece of clothing isn't going to stump him. However, Ranpo is also lazy when he isn't motivated and while if he's focused on getting you naked, he'll probably whine for you to just take the bra off yourself - you're faster at it, he's seen the way you fling the thing off after a long day like it's a snake, so why not? He just wants to see your boobs!

Don't worry, he more than makes up for it once your bra hits the ground. He's very good with that mouth of his.

Tanizaki Juni'ichiro

Yes, he is good at taking off bras… No, I will not elaborate.

Kunikida Doppo

Yes, he does know how to take off a bra. The problem is that Kunikida rarely gets to practise on actual, living women - he's only done it on a bra just lying limp in his hand or on a mannequin. Doing it while in the throes of a heated makeout session is quite different.

You'll be there, getting all hot and heavy, and suddenly feel a tugging at your bra and a lot of frustrated huffing and puffing. He'll bark at you to hold still - not in a sexy way but in that "maths teacher" voice he still has buried deep. It's rather a mood-killer.

He's also one of those irritating people who won't let you just take the damn thing off yourself - he feels like he has to prove he's worth of touching your boobs by conquering the bra. Also, Dazai would never let him live it down if he couldn't do it.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Not only does Akutagawa not know how to take off a bra, but he's too prideful to ask you to do it. Instead he has a very impractical solution of just using Rashomon to slice it off you. He's too impatient to bother with fiddling around with it - remember this is a man who doesn't even know the name of the frilly thing he wears on his neck.

Don't wear your nice bras around Akutagawa, or just go for a sports bra you can pull off over your heard. Nothing is worth your fancy, expensive new lingerie being ruined by a horny goth boy.

Nakajima Atsushi

I don't even think Atsushi has been near a bra before, let alone touched one. He has no idea how they work - he actually thought it was held together by little magnets. He'll try but he gets nervous and will tug at the material, scared of accidentally tearing it. He knows bras are expensive, he's heard Yosano and Lucy complain about it enough times.

He'll be astonished if you can do it without even looking.

Edgar Allen Poe:

Faints if you even mention the word 'bra'. You'll have to fan him awake or fetch the smelling salts.

[reineydraws]

For the mishanks body swap au, how would luffy/zoro/perona react? How would other people they know react?

hi! this got long so i'll put it under a cut, and there aren't really any drawings since that's a bit more effort and time i don't have rn 😅 but i wanted to answer this!

the people i cover are:

benn & yasopp

perona

zoro

luffy (and rayleigh, kinda)

kid luffy

buggy & croc

kid uta

thanks for the ask!!! :)

this is how i had some of shanks's crew react:

i think yasopp and benn, who have likely known him the longest and best and who have probably seen the most of mishanks together, would recognize mihawk's body language, even when it's on shanks. i also think ppl who spend a lot of time together and/or love each other a lot pick up each others' mannerisms, so benn and yasopp have probably already seen their captain exhibit little tells here and there that clearly come from mihawk. when mihawk himself somehow ends up in their captain's body, it's weirdly familiar for them, and they realize it's 'cuz they're not just seeing echoes of the swordsman in shanks, but the real thing.

for perona, i imagine shanks would roll up to kuraigana thinking like, "i should try to be like mihawk so as not to alarm them, esp 'cuz hawky probably would rather they not know" but when he steps off hitsugibune, he waves to perona and greets, "perona," and she's immediately like, "who are you!" she noticed that shanks buttoned the shirt he picked out of mihawk's coffin-crate wrong, and mihawk would never wear that shirt with those pants like that! and she thought maybe mihawk was having an off day until "mihawk" waved in greeting and called her by name. at this point, shanks is sweating lol.

zoro, i think he'd probably notice something is Off right away (shanks continues the charade bc he explains the situation to perona and perona thinks it's hilarious and wants to see how long zoro goes without noticing) but wouldn't really care until "mihawk" draws yoru for some training. zoro would scowl, annoyed but not alarmed bc perona's not alarmed, and he'd be like, "okay, that's it. mihawk would never hold yoru like that, he keeps at least another hand's-width distance in his grip for better support, what the hell," and shanks is just like, of course i got the sword thing wrong. of course his sword student would notice. 🤦🏻‍♀️ mihawk would only train interesting and competent people, and that's luffy's swordsman! c'mon shanks.

(i am a firm believer that shanks is the only other person that's ever been allowed to handle yoru in the time she's been mihawk's sword, and as an extension of that, i think it'd be cute if he held her in a slightly different grip bc shanks's style when using yoru is a little more hilt-heavy and defensive. he hasn't done this since losing his arm though, so it's actually nostalgic to be able to wield her with both hands.)

(i say this but i suppose, like with all body swap au's, there might also be an element of muscle memory involved. in that case, zoro probably confronts shanks when shanks reaches for beer instead of wine at dinner. but i like the sword thing better haha.)

luffy? luffy and mishanks aren't interacting in canon rn so i can't imagine where he'd meet up with them body-swapped, unless one of them goes to rayleigh at sabaody for help. (i say "one of them" but while shanks would be alone, poor mihawk would definitely have the red-hair pirates as a peanut gallery following along lol.) in this case, i think luffy (and rayleigh) would just laugh. like, a lot. so much.

if it was mihawk (looking like shanks), luffy would probably ask him a lot of questions regarding zoro and proclaiming his time is almost up as wgs, and then hang out with the rhp to catch up, show off his improved abilities a little, and tell yasopp about how usopp's been doing. with shanks, i think they'd catch up and then end up horsing around, and it would be extra funny bc from the outside it looks like dracule mihawk is having an eating contest with strawhat luffy. rayleigh will take photos for posterity.

if it's kid luffy and this happens before luffy's a pirate, i think luffy would probably ask mihawk-as-shanks what being a pirate is like, and also stories about being the wgs. and mihawk would tell him about fighting marines and his coffin boat and luffy would get a little starry-eyed but also maybe want to fight him lol.

other people they know... i can't help but imagine what kind of fuckery shanks would come up with if he rolled up to karai barai looking like mihawk. 😂 buggy and croc would be so unnerved.

i think shanks would take the opportunity to fuck with buggy a little by bringing up inciting incidents between them from when they were kids, like their really stupid arguments, and buggy would be caught between arguing back heatedly, creeped out that mihawk knows and is smiling all i-know-something-you-don't-know at him *shudders*, and wondering if the weird amount of knowledge on buggy's childhood mihawk has means that mihawk and shanks are fucking or something. (they are, but buggy doesn't know that. mihawk is a little annoyed at shanks for getting this revealed 'cuz he was holding onto their relationship for a more dramatic reveal if it ever presented itself, and he wanted the source of the blackmail he had on buggy to be a little more enigmatic. now, he can't creep buggy out bc he'll just assume all his blackmail material is from shanks. ugh.)

croc would be a little baffled that "mihawk" has suddenly started interacting with the clown way more than he used to, before realizing there's something deeply wrong with "mihawk". he seems too personable, too trusting, too... smile-y. it's weird. he doesn't like it. he is forced to go to buggy about this when his own henchmen don't seem to know what else to do about it, and they end up relictantly working together to find out what caused this personality change. when it eventually gets figured out that "mihawk" is actually shanks, buggy is livid and crocodile's already thinking about what this might mean for the cross guild, if the red force is going to come to karai barai, if that will cause problems for what he's trying to do, and of course, how he can use this situation to blackmail mihawk in the future. it's annoying but he can admit it's also kinda funny.

totally self-indulgent addition, but kid uta would take the oportunity to play dress-up with her dads since they've now effectively switched fashion senses. both let her, bc they are both charmed by how happy this makes her.

[garf-lover96]

happy anniversary to me and Julian :3 a few months ago i made a post that i will write a fic for the occasion and i DID and i reached the character limit in my google keep note because it was that long. it's almost 4k words!! that's how much i love him guys!! i don't know how i suddenly went from writing little 1k fics to this monstrosity but i'm happy with how it turned out🤞🤞 it's under the cut because it really is huge and also disgustingly mushy, be careful!!.....

i should start titling my fics or something but i don't really want to.. maybe they'll get their titles somewhere in the future

———

Rowan sits in the palace parlor, half sunken into the soft pillows of the sofa. His hand raises to pick at his lips, before the magpie on his shoulder screeches at him and he's forced to drop it back into his lap. The countess sitting across from him chuckles softly and speaks up for the first time in a longer while.

"I do agree with Bluebell. You're much too anxious about the whole situation." Nadia imparts and takes a small sip from her teacup. The magpie seems smug at the fact someone's agreed with her.

"I know, I know that... But are you sure the gift isn't too small?" Rowan asks and starts unconsciously picking at his nails, earning him another loud screech.

"A ring of all things is an accurate gift for an anniversary, I assure you."

"He doesn't even wear jewelry, this is silly..." he mumbles out and rubs his face with a frustrated huff.

Seeing Rowan's distressed expression, Nadia sets her cup down and walks over to sit down by his side. The man straightens up a little as she places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Can you tell me what this is really about?" she inquires with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Maybe it's just... A commitment thing..."

"...Could you elaborate on that?"

"I just mean- Are promise rings the right amount of commitment? Will he think I'm a hypocrite for giving him a ring when I've previously told him that I don't want marriage-?"

"...Dear, do you hear yourself?"

Rowan is about to start picking at his nails again before Bluebell hops down into his hands and he begins to preen the bird instead.

"I sincerely doubt that Julian would even be capable of such a thought. That is, when it comes to you, at the very least."

"I guess..."

"Rowan, I'm certain that Julian hasn't changed his mind on that agreement. He'll love those rings." Nadia assures, carding through his hair gently and putting unruly wisps back into place.

Sighing softly, Rowan rests his head on her shoulder, her fragrant perfume calming his nerves "I know how silly I sound, I'm sorry..."

Nadia chuckles fondly "This is quite an important milestone for you, it's natural to be nervous about it. Especially since this is your first time celebrating a relationship anniversary."

She glances down to notice that the man is now squeezing Bluebell's body rhythmically. Not that the fluffed up bird seems to mind, she seems a little drowsy in fact, as if she's entirely used to it.

"But you know, if you're this worried that I can't imagine just how troubled Julian is. Remind me when do you have to head back?"

Rowan's eyes move towards the big clock standing in the corner of the room. "In a few hours... And yeah, he's probably spiraling right about now. I bet he got me something beautiful though..." he says and smiles softly.

"Would you like to take a stroll in the garden? You could use some fresh air to relax before your rendezvous."

"Yeah, let's do that... Thank you, Nadia." he nods before reaching over to finish his cold cup of tea.

~~~

Portia stumbles through the streets of Goldgrave, Malak constantly pulling at her sleeves, leading her somewhere. She was really hoping to get some garden work done before the raven showed up and caused a big ruckus. All she managed to deduce from the urgent croaks is that Julian apparently needs help with something. The bird dives down to pull on a strand of her hair once more.

"Give me a break! I told you already, my legs aren't as long as Ilya's-" she yanks her lock back from Malak's talons with a small grunt, "Ugh, if you want me to bail him out again, I swear he'll be going to his little date with a black eye."

She's a little confused when the bird perches on top of her head not a few moments later.

"We're stopping? But this is..." she trails off and looks up. This is undeniably the building where she's watched her brother's stage performances before. But why would he be in the community theater of all places today? She makes her way through the entrance and soon enough she can hear some distant labored grunting, followed by a loud frustrated yell. Malak takes off from her head and flies further through the corridor, then audibly crashes into something with a thud.

"Where were you? I was starting to think you've abandoned me." Julian can be heard talking to the raven the closer Portia gets to the backstage. When the scene comes into view, her jaw drops a little.

"You're stealing a piano." Portia's tone isn't questioning in the slightest, somehow this does seem like something he'd do.

Julian straightens up and whips around to face his sister with a mortified expression "Stealing- I'm not stealing, this is a perfectly legal operation! And what in the world are you even doing here?!" his gaze shifts to the raven sitting on top of the said piano "I told you I don't need any help! Traitor..." he huffs hopelessly and leans against the instrument. The longer Portia looks at him, the more she notices just how exhausted he looks.

"...Don't tell me you were trying to carry a piano all by yourself. Where would you even bring it?"

"It's a gift, Pasha! I spent months trying to renovate this old thing so I could give it to Rowan! He's been taking those lessons from Nadia and he's already so good... I wanted him to have a piano of his own at home." he whines out and runs his gloved hand down his face.

"What- Why didn't you tell me that earlier? I obviously would've helped!"

"Because- Because it's my responsibility! I got the gift so now I have to carry it home! And it's fine because I'm sure you have your own chores to do today and I'm strong enough to drag this thing back to the shop myself. Thank you for your concern." having said that, Julian pushes the piano forward and it makes an outrageously loud creak as it moves against the wooden floor.

It makes Portia grimace. She can't bear the thought of the piano being massacred like this any longer.

"Stop! I'm not letting you drag it on the ground all the way there. You'll just ruin it, idiot." she grumbles and walks around the instrument, managing to get a pretty good hold on it from one end. She shoots Julian a meaningful look, urging him to grab the other side.

He sighs in defeat before quickly laying his discarded coat over it and they manage to lift the piano off the ground together. It makes Malak croak in surprise but he doesn't move an inch. Manoeuvering it through all the corridors leading outside is hard work, so they take a break once they've carried it out into the street.

Only when the daylight reaches the piano can all the intricate details finally be seen. Portia runs her hand over the carvings depicting a bunch of wildflowers and animals. The fresh coat of varnish makes the instrument glisten in the sun.

"And you're telling me you're just allowed to walk out with a piece like this? This must be worth a fortune!"

"A fortune is what I spent on getting it into proper shape... The exterior might be beautiful but the insides were all jumbled up. Not that I know much about pianos... I spent a long time trying to find all the necessary experts to fix it." he huffs out again and rests his elbow on top of the instrument, swinging his hand at Malak to shoo him off of it "Ride's over, I'm not letting you scratch it up..."

The bird relents and moves to perch on Portia's shoulder as she circles the piano, her eyes boring into the insane details. She brings the fall board up so she can see the keys as well.

"...Oh my god, is this ivory?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it is, yes. It's supposed to be durable, thankfully none of the keys were missing-"

"This is the kind of stuff they have at the palace!" she exclaims and looks at them in awe.

"It's- It's not too much, right? Will he think I'm out of my mind for getting him a piano with ivory keys...?" Julian suddenly seems a little less confident about his present than a second ago. But before his sister is allowed to answer, his eyes dart up and he winces when he notices the sun's position.

"Drat, look at us just standing around here, we don't have much time! We might have to take those tight shortcuts..."

"Maybe we won't have to if you just grab onto the piano, Ilya..."

"Right, yes!" he squares his shoulders, quickly stepping over to take the lead in the piano-carrying assignment. Once they both get a secure hold on the instrument again, they lift it up and start walking through the streets.

In this situation getting some surprised stares from people is inevitable, but Julian is not concerned with that at all. Instead, he keeps glancing up, clearly stressing over whether they'll be able to make it to the shop and carry the gift inside in time, before Rowan returns from the palace.

He glances behind briefly to notice that Malak is still comfortably rested atop Portia's shoulder. Then he speaks up, slight concern apparent in his voice. "Malak, friend, do you think you could check up on Rowan? Er, just to make sure that he's not going to be inconveniently punctual."

The bird seems mildly inconvenienced at the fact that he has to leave his place snuggled into Portia's soft hair but doesn't need much more convincing. Leaving some stray feathers behind, he takes off into the air. Without the ravens frequent croaking, there falls a silence between the siblings. Portia notices Julian's tense shoulders and can't resist to tease him a bit.

"...You know, maybe he will think you're a snob for the ivory keyboard."

"Pasha, don't stress me out!" he yells back at her, trying to hold back a smile at the sound of her jesting giggle.

~~~

While in the air, Malak obediently stays in pursuit of Rowan to distract him if needed, but shortly after spotting him on his way out of the palace, he notices the man seemingly taking the scenic route anyway. Hopping his way along the roofs, the raven notices him stop somewhere in the corner of the town square.

Hugging his knees to his chest, Rowan stares down at particularly stout, shiny beetle. His familiar jumps towards it again but he stops her with an index finger, poking her away.

"I told you it's too fat for you to eat. I don't want you to choke, sweetheart."

A grumpy screech.

"...I'm not going to cut it into pieces either. There are people here."

Another screech.

"What? I'm not tempting you! Can't I just stare at a bug in peace for a moment?" the tension between his brows increases a little as he keeps his eyes on the beetle "I'm not nervous anymore, I just need a second, okay?"

Bluebell hops forward and flops onto her back, trying to distract Rowan.

"Your little baby tantrum won't fix anything, you know."

The magpie seems offended now. She opens her beak threateningly...

"No, hey, don't you dare do that-"

A series of deafening screeches tear through the square as Bluebell tries to put a stop to Rowan's overthinking in her own way. He scoops her up from the ground and starts shushing her frantically.

"Stop screaming! We can go to the shop, you can take the stupid beetle, just don't make a scene!"

She stops immediately and wriggles out of his grasp to pick the beetle up by one skinny, squirming leg. It makes Rowan frown a little.

"...Just make sure to chew it well, please." he mutters and finally continues walking.

~~~

Already inside the shop, the Devoraks try to carry the piano up the stairs and not fall to their deaths in the process. A firm boot planted on the creaking step, Julian pushes forward as Portia leads the way, carefully climbing backwards.

"Just a few more Pasha, you've got this..." he reassures and angles his head so that he can see the short corridor the staircase leads to.

With a series of collective labored groans they manage to pull the piano onto the top floor before almost collapsing against it.

"Now that's a workout! Gosh, I barely feel my calves... And hands... And..." Portia trails off, raising her hand to pull her damp with sweat hair away from her face.

"I think I was seconds away from breaking my spine there..." Julian gasps and quickly pulls his gloves off of his hands, throwing them onto the piano "Just one more... Curve... I swear I'll get you such a nice thank you gift, you're the best sister in the whole wide world..." he seems to be getting a little teary-eyed but he quickly composes himself for the sake of the mission.

Portia seems to nod acknowledingly at her brother's emotional speech as she tilts her head to look downstairs at the sound of slight tapping "I think Malak's back..."

Julian turns around and observes as the raven wanders into the shop through the back door, his talons clicking against the wooden floor. He caws a few times which makes Julian grimace.

"Alright, I have no idea what that meant but I will assume that Rowan is already near... Are you okay to keep going, Pasha?"

She gives him a quick thumbs up and shakes her hands off, then grabs onto the piano as if she didn't just drag a half a ton instrument up some very steep stairs. Carrying it into the bedroom doesn't take near as much work as all the previous routes but once it's sitting in it's designated place, the siblings just slide down to sit on the floor for a short moment.

"You were right, you're always right, I wouldn't have managed without you, Pasha..." Julian weeps out and quickly pulls her into a hug.

"Yes, you would've been dead a hundred times over if it weren't for me." she wraps her arms around him with a grin, feeling just a little lightheaded from all the carrying she did today "I should get going, don't wanna disturb you loverboys." she snorts and pokes at her brother's waist.

"Ah, allow me to escort you then, dear sister!" he gets to his feet—his back cracking loudly—and upon wiping a stray tear from his eye, he pulls her up by the forearms "Good to stand?"

Portia nods. It's a careful walk back down, both of their legs are still quite wobbly after the endeavor. Upon opening the door for her sister, Julian is surprised to find a spooked Rowan on the steps just outside. He staggers back a bit as it suddenly opens.

"Oh, Portia...? What are you doing here?" he asks with growing worry on his face at her disheveled state.

She just smiles and dives in for a hug, making the magpie on his shoulder startle and fly up to the rafters instead "All will make sense in a jiffy! Enjoy your date!" with one last squeeze, Portia takes off, turning around to wave goodbye.

Locking eyes with Rowan, Julian promptly pulls him inside and up into his arms with a beaming smile "Lover, you're here at last!"

"Julian-! I wanted to- Why... Why is your shirt soaked...?" Rowan stares at him with a confused expression, his feet still awkwardly dangling above the ground as his partner holds him.

"Ahaha, I promise to freshen up before our dinner... But what were you going to say?" Julian inquires with a smile and sets him down gently.

"I, uh, wanted to give you my present first because I thought about it way too much and... Just wanted to get that off my chest, you know? Is that okay?" Rowan squeezes Julian's hands gently, looking up at him with an unsure smile.

"Yes, more than okay! I'm dying to see what you thought of."

"Should we go upstairs-?"

"No! Not... Not yet. We, er, can go sit down in the back room, if you'd like."

Rowan widens his eyes with surprise again but doesn't mind going along with the idea. Once they're seated next to each other, he speaks up again "Before you see the gift, I just wanted to say that... Even though we already had that conversation about whether we ever want to take our relationship to the 'next stage' and came to an agreement, I still wanted you to have some kind of confirmation, I guess... I know how important that is for you and I really wanted you to know that I'm very, very serious about this, so..." with one trembling hand and a soft sniff, he fishes out a small pouch out of his vest's pocket and unties the thin string around it. He can feel Julian's eye boring into him as he works on opening it.

"...Hold out your hand, please."

Julian obeys and gives him his hand, palm facing up. His smile is bright with anticipation until Rowan twists his hand gently and takes it into his own instead. A shiny, sliver ring comes into his view, with what seems to be a small, green gemstone embedded in the middle. His jaw drops wordlessly as his partner slides it onto his finger. He inhales a bit before Rowan stops him.

"Don't say anything yet! Just a second!" he quickly reveals a second, matching ring, with the same design as the first one, but the colors seem to be different. It's gold with a red gemstone. Rowan holds it up to the one that's already on Julian's hand.

"These represent us, see? I had the gemstones switched so that the green reminds you of me but you can still wear silver. Ah, and- And you don't have to worry about your gloves either! Yours is actually adjustable so- You can wear it whenever you want!" he raises his eyes to check on his partner's reaction and his nervous smile softens when he sees some tears already streaming down his face, along with a huge grateful smile. Julian takes it upon himself to take the matching ring and slide it onto Rowan's finger before pulling him into a very tight hug.

"God, you really thought of everything... Thank you, love, they're so beautiful-" he voice cracks just a little before he buries his face in Rowan's hair, who's already exhaling in relief because the gift did turn out to be a success.

"There's just one more thing, actually." Rowan gently dries Julian's teary cheeks and makes him look down at their hands again "I'll let you do the honors. Touch one of the stones, hm?"

Once he gently taps his own ring, the other one lights up in a soft glow. It makes Julian gasp softly "This is the single most romantic thing you've ever done, I'm pretty sure."

"I can think of a few more... And it's a simple enchantment, really..." Rowan mumbles with a shy smile, still observing the rings that are finally in their rightful places.

"I'd love to just stare at these forever but... Now I really want you to see what I got for you. You're going to love it." he lowers his head to leave a sweet kiss on Rowan's lips before helping him to his feet.

They walk up the stairs together until Julian covers Rowan's eyes in front of the entrance to their bedroom. It makes Rowan tilt his head in confusion a little.

"Just keep walking, darling, I've got you."

"Yes, okay..."

They stop in the middle of the room and Julian makes Rowan face the direction of his gift.

"Are you ready?"

"I hope I am." Rowan answers with a small chuckle. When Julian's hands drop from his eyes to his shoulders, his eyes settle on the piano at last.

His reaction is a little delayed, but once it kicks in, it's nothing like Julian's controlled few sobs. He bites down on his lower lip and absolutely breaks down. The thick tears streaming down his eyes make it hard to keep his eyes on the piano. It makes Julian worried for a split moment.

"Er, these are happy tears, yes? You haven't given up on the art of music, right?" he asks and steps in to take Rowan's face into his hands as he keeps sobbing loudly. He only manages to nod firmly and pull him into a hug to keep crying into his shirt.

"A whole fucking piano... You're absolutely insane..."

"Now, there's the reaction I was waiting for! I was a tad worried that you were just pretending to like it." he remarks cheekily and runs his fingers through Rowan's hair gently, "I should mention that I couldn't decide on what little bench I should get to go along with it so we can go buy one tomorrow, if you'd like. There's a ton of colors of the cushioning to choose from, apparently."

"Damn it, I should've bought you a vielle instead... We could've been playing a duet right now..." Rowan weeps, attempting to dry his face while the tears just keep flowing.

"Oh we'll play many duets yet, dear. And anyway, you can get one for me on our next anniversary."

"And let me guess, to upstage the piano you'll get me a boat next year...?"

"Oh shush, don't spoil it!" Julian rolls his eyes playfully "We'll have time to talk about the future during our dinner which we don't want to be late to, eh?"

"Yeah, future... We should start getting ready." Rowan wipes is eyes into his sleeve and pulls Julian's face down gently to kiss him "Happy anniversary. I love you."

"I love you too, Rowan. Happy anniversary."

———

according to my screentime app, i spent 2 hours on this yesterday ALONE and almost 12 hours in general during the past 2 weeks. waow❤️ i have a drive

AND FUCKING TUMBLR POSTED THIS WHEN I WAS CLICKING "SAVE AS DRAFT" I SWEAR I'M GOING TO GO ON A RAMPAGE

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I'm still here ngl..

*

Listen, I see this and feel so much happiness. Jimin dancing, showing who he is, showing the versatility of his style and giving us just a glimpse into the extensive, vast range of his talent.

There's been some revisionism happening regarding BTS that's ratcheted up in the last three years or so. I can't be the only person who's noticed it. People more forcefully asserting things about the members that are just plain absurd, like saying this or that member isn't that talented, or that xyz member has this massive character failing that's only just apparent now for some reason, or that things they've said and done aren't actually the case. After FACE, I noticed people saying shit like Jimin can't sing and can't dance...

That reminds me, I went to a cup-sleeve event in June for another group and someone told me to my face Jimin can't dance and I almost uppercut that bitch. It ticked me off but I didn't actually assault her. What I did instead was ask her to explain what she meant, told her I disagreed, and showed her why by playing Jimin's Black Swan solo DP. She took back her initial claim and said she'd just been in a k-pop group online and all those people were saying is how none of the BTS members are that talented especially Jimin who apparently can't sing to save his life and whatever dancing he can do is limited to a few moves from 6 years ago.

Plain insanity.

Jimin, out of the kindness of his sweet, magnanimous heart, is giving the amnesia patients a crash course in who he is. He's reminding people he is Park Jimin of BTS. The dancer who joined a nearly bankrupt agency, had the shortest training period in that agency's history, and with the least resources, and debuted as the main dancer and lead singer of what is now the biggest group in the world. The man who critics from all over the world laud as a virtuoso, in voice, dance, and performance. His voice has brought men to their knees, calmed babies, enchanted concert halls, made stadiums full of people cry out in pure joy. There's nobody alive or dead like Park Jimin, and the fact we all get to exist in the same time as him is a blessing too many people (for my liking) take for granted.

ThisIsJimin is a gift I'm thankful to Jimin for giving us again.

*

Anyway, I was watching that clip again with a friend and she pointed out how cool the dance practice room was. Noted how it's a massive improvement from the old BigHit halls that had mold growing on the walls and water dripping on live wires in the back. It's taken years, hard work by the members, good business sense from BigHit/HYBE, and a lot of my own hard-earned money as well as the resources (time, money, otherwise) from ARMYs over the years to get to this point - and I just want to say, speaking for myself, even though I still see massive room for improvement, I feel very happy with the state of things.

HYBE is cultivating a solid roster of talent built on BTS's hard work. The world-class facilities in the building is the first good sign, as well as the talent now being fostered there. I love the quality of the army of dancers Jimin had access to for his SMF Pt2 performances, I love that NewJeans is doing so well that Riot Games sought them to feature on their new World's anthem, I love that a whole new generation of incredible groups are growing in the environment created by BTS's own trials and success.

BOYNEXTDOOR is a group that continues to have my attention because all six boys are just that good. They posted their dance practice for Crying today (my favourite song from a rookie group in 2023), and I noticed they did it in a similar dark coloured dance practice room Jimin filmed his #ThisIsJimin choreo in. And that really just put a very silly smile on my face for a reason I can't pinpoint yet.

*

Maybe it's aftereffects from the Jimin Effect after streaming his reel as hard as I'm streaming Indigo lately.

I see the asks you send, about Golden, JK in general, jokers, this or that thing happening in fandom, and I'll get to them at some point but I don't want to talk about them right now. Because I'm still stuck on Jimin showcasing himself in that air conditioned, world class dance practice room that's only possible because of his hard work, tenacity, talent, and love for his group.

I'm still stuck on Jimin and legit cannot move on. He's such a beast. Such a calculating, proud, stubborn, and kind beast of a man.

I'm not sure what's going on with me.

We're in Jimtober so maybe his juju is just extra strong and I can't escape his grip no matter what I try. Anyway, it's a good idea to stream FACE, allow yourself to re-experience his album, check out his other solos as well (played Christmas Love over the weekend and realized it sounds even better on low frequency speakers), and eat a lot of spicy food followed by warm/hot drinks because Jimin is curious about such things (and it really does work).

[starlightshadowsworld]

Just the teens of the Agency being taken care of by the others.

Because yeah maybe Junichiro and Atsushi aren't that much younger than say Dazai and Kunikida. But to them and the rest they're still kids.

And this job can be a lot.

If no one else is injured, Yosano seeks them out first after a mission for a check up.

She's made sure they know her door is always open, to come to her even if they don't think a wound is serious.

Atsushi and Kyouka have to be told this more than anyone else. They still hesitate but Yosano always smiles when they approaches her, letting them know it's okay.

Atsushi's childhood and Kyouka's time in the Port Mafia taught them to show weakness. But somehow that rule falls aside when their in Yosano's office.

Because they trust her.

Naomi rarely ever needs to go to the infirmary. But she's had too and what she's seen terrified her. Yosano has ushered her in and listened, comforted her that she's safe now.

Kenji and Atsushi spend a lot of time in the infirmary.

Kenji is always sweet and bright but there's times even he feels scared and hurt. Junichiro holds it together but he breaks down when their alone.

Yosano stays by their sides, a kind presence in the chaos and hugs them close.

Ranpo always knows when to take them off a mission.

When Junichiro has a test coming up, when Kenji needs to rest after using his ability. He won't have them overworking themselves, no way.

Ranpo will instead having them guide him to his cases or get him snacks.

Or just straight up tell him to take a break. He's even used his ability to save them time on cases when there's too much going on.

"There you're done, now go take a nap."

Ranpo's memorised which snacks and sweets they like, and periodically drops them on their desks. Reminding Atsushi that it's a gift, he can have it and that it's okay.

Kenji gets the most, especially when he's had to use his ability a lot. Ranpo's not letting him go without having something to eat.

After the guild incident Naomi gets a huge bag of her favourites dropped on her desk.

Kunikida despite his schedule always makes time for them. He's lenient on paperwork (that doesn't apply to you Dazai!)

Junichiro hesitantly asks for his help on some homework and it turns into a full midday study session. And Kunikida wouldn't let him apologise for it.

He's contacted Kenji's family and gotten their permission to sign off on anything Kenji needs his parents permission on.

Kunikida comforts Atsushi when he makes a mistake. He reminds Kyouka that she made the right decisions.

He takes them out for dinner or cooks for them, and makes sure everyone's well fed and has enough food.

Kunikida had made himself all of their emergency contact. He has told them to call him whenever they need him. Rain or shine he will be there for them.

Dazai knows just what to say to lighten the mood. He reminds Kyouka that people like them can change. He will actually do his paperwork if he senses Atsushi's overwhelmed.

Reminds them all that one mistake doesn't destroy all their hard work. He'll praise their efforts and remind them of how far they've come.

Dazai notices when Kenji's smile isn't as bright and sits by his side. He shares stories that'll make them laugh and grins when he succeeds.

He's a calming presence when things get rough. Ruffling Atsushi's hair and patting Junichiro's head. Smiling kindly at Kyouka and Kenji.

He reminds them all that the world doesn't rest on their shoulders, they've got others to carry the weight.

And he'll break into their dorms to drag them out if he notices any of them isolating themselves.

Fukuzawa keeps an eye on everyone, but the younger members in particular.

He took Kyouka in and is her legal guardian. He signs off on anything that requires a parent or guardians permission.

He reminds Kyouka that people like them can change. Divulging into parts of his past to comfort her and Atsushi that he understands how they feel.

And doesn't see them any differently.

Makes sure Kenji can regularly vists his family. He's in close contact with them and keeps them updated.

Fukuzawa let's them nap in his office or take a breather in there.

His office is a safe space, tells them nothing and no one can harm you here. He checks up on them all whenever they're in the infirmary.

He has Junichiro's latest report card on the fridge and has told him on many occasions he's proud of him.

Fukuzawa keeps an eye out to ensure Atsushi and Kyouka are settling into the dorms okay. He has given them all his personal number for emergencies.

He checks on Naomi, especially after the incidents she was involved in and makes sure she's okay.

Doesn't allow any of them to overwork themselves. Has taken them to cat cafes on breaks when things get rough.

Because the Agency are family and they look out for their own.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Ao3

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Chapter 2

Dean orders the largest burger on the menu, Bobby orders something with potatoes that will absolutely have him commenting that he could make a better one himself. Sam orders a salad. Danny orders chocolate chip pancakes off the breakfast menu and Dean looses any reservations he had about refering to the young man as 'kid'. Realistically he's probably not much younger than Sam, but if he has a problem with it he can start acting like an adult.

No. Dean isn't huffy about the handstand thing. Why do you ask?

"So it's following you, but you haven't seen it. Like haven't seen it like, invisible or like being watched from afar or what?" Then again, the kid was asking good questions.

"Like its invisible, but can't hide its presence, realizes its making a mess then pisses off."

"Because its afraid of being noticed or because it doesn't want to do harm?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Vibes."

"Gut instinct," Sam adds, which makes more sense than 'vibes'.

"It shattered every window in the place. I don't think its scared."

"Fair."

"I know a psychic, a couple hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking." Bobby suggested.

"Hell, yeah. Its worth a shot."

"A psychic..." Danny tapped the table, "Okay, sure. Why not?"

---

"What the hell is this?"

"An ipod jack... It's been my car for a year, Dean."

And what could he say to that? Instead Dean points sout the part that is far worse than douching up his car with modern niceties. "Its pink."

"Yeah... well, it's not mine, it's Jazz's. She left it in here and if I move it I'll forget to bring it back to her."

"Huh," Dean had no idea what he expected. Maybe some comment about how pink wasn't that bad? He turned the key and some girly romance song filled the compartment. "Really?"

Sam smiled a little at the song, and Dean hit pause on the device instead of throwing it into the back seat.

"Soo, she your girlfriend or what"

"That's complicated."

"Of course it is, the hunting making things weird?"

"No, actually. Her family hunts."

"But not her?"

"Only when necessary, she's in medical school."

"I'm, uh, noticing some parallels, Sammy."

Sam laughs. "Thats part of why its complicated."

"Just part, huh?"

"Yeah,"

"What about Ruby? She still around?"

"Probably. She shows up when she thinks she can make a case for wanting the greater good or whatever... there was a whole thing. When I was still convinced I could bring you back..." Sam trails off, clearly deciding how much to say. Sam had tried to bring him back?And failed? Did Bobby know about any of this? "That's done now.”

"Huh...You been using your freaky E.S.P. stuff?"

"Every time I think its behind me something weird happens."

"What?"

"It shows up at weird times, stressful situations. Afterwards its hard to tell if it was real or not."

"Sam..."

"I know, look, one thing at a time okay? We worry about this for now."

---

"I am curious... why aren't you doing this yourself?" Pamela asks Danny.

"You're a psychic?" Bobby asks.

"...I guess I could count? I tend to only talk to the dead when they're right in front of me."

This, of course, meant Pamela forgot she had been flirting in favor of talking shop with Danny. Which meant he didn't get a chance to chat with the lovely lady, instead got to listen to her quiz him on ‘'energies'' and 'conduits' and other psychic mumbo-jumbo. Like really, he just got outta jail, why can’t he enjoy it? It's probably for the best though, the kid, in his own words, "knew enough to do some incredibly stupid things." So, Dean figured letting Pamela explain the basics of a safe seance was probably saving someone a whole mess.

Not that he thought Danny would intentionally be stupid about it. They'd have done this four hours ago in the back of the kid's van, if he'd thought he could, and who knows how that would've ended.

He's less willing to accept it when Pam decides Danny should be the one touching Dean's shoulder.

"Jesus, kid! You been holding ice cubes?!"

"Don't judge my hobbies." Kid quips, settling his hand back over the handprint. "Just poor circulation, chillax."

Dean immediately regrets glancing at his brother. At least Sammy has the decency to stifle his smirk, but really, taking your not-actually-brother-in-law-because-its-complicated's side over your own flesh and blood: Rude! Just rude.

"Okay." Pam begins, her tone both sharp and comforting. The unspoken command is heard and they somber, close their eyes.

"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." She begins, her voice clear and authoritative.

"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." She repeats, energy runs between their circle linked hands. Dean couldn't let go even if he tried. What was this?

"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." Something turns on, a television or a radio, Dean doesn't know. He's a link in a chain meant to bind, every sense is dull except the feeling of clasping hands and the brand on his shoulders. Accept the single sound that rings in perfect clarity.

"I invoke, conjure, and command... Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean repeats, how he says it, he isn't quite sure, chainlinks don't have mouths.

"Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back."

"Warning, not threatening." Gasps the link that connects Pamela to this link. The static grows, the space beneath them shakes. The world itself wants to tear the links free from the chain, but they hold. Power runs freely between them, they are as much a conduit as they are a chain. They will not break, they cannot break, keeping hands linked is effortless.

"I conjure and command you, show me your face." Pamela chants. The cacophony around them grows louder and more hazy, her voice is clear through each repetition.

Another link says something. This link does not hear it.

"I almost got it. I command you, show me your face! Show me your face n—"

"No," The link between them breathes.

The link in the chain is a body. The body is Dean. The burn on Dean's shoulder ache's with the absence of a relieving cold removed.

Dean crashes backwards. The impact of his back on the floor knocks the wind from his lungs. Sound returns. Breaking glass and splintering furniture, someone is screaming. He gasps. Three, four, five breaths before he's aware of the broken chair beneath him. He grabs a leg of it, and holds it like a weapon as he scrambles to his feet.

Bobby has already gotten to Pamela, she's covering her face and muttering about sight. Dean catches a glimpse and turns to Danny as Bobby shouts to call 9-1-1.

He can hear Sam stumble over scattered items in the direction of the phone. He kneels in front of his brother's friend.

Danny's eyes are closed, but he has eyelids, so Dean thinks that's a good sign for now. Blood is gushing from the kid's nose.

"He's beautiful." The kid whispers, clearly dazed.

"You okay, kid?"

" 'm not'a kid, 'm 24, plus all that time that didn't happen, so I'm even older than I am."

"Right, Sammy's calling the 9-1-1, you're gonna be—"

Danny jerked away like someone had soaked their hands in ice water before grabbing his shoulder. "No hospitals."

Dean remembered that the kid was also a hunter, but a lot more vivid than that, was the image of Pam's eyes seared out. "Okay, okay, let me see your eyes, then we'll decide what to do."

Danny obeyed. He blinked his eyes open, and while bright green irises' surrounded with angry red lines, they were like, normal levels of bloodshot and not 'stared into eye gouging power' bloodshot. So that was good, better than Dean had hoped. "Okay, you come with us while Bobby handles the EMT's."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, promise."

Danny nods. "He's beautiful, Dean. Like something past hoping, like the things that live in the silver."

"Um." Dean regretted his choices.

"Neverborn and Neverdead for sure. But not the embodiment of a concept I dont think. Maybe something like a wisp? If wisps liked to burn your corneas off."

"I don't think it was a wisp, buddy."

"No, Castiel isn't a wisp name. Wisps have names like:" Danny whistled a few notes.

"Are you sure you don't need a hospital?"

He wiped his nose with his sleeve. This succeeded only in smearing the blood around his face and getting his sleeve dirty. . "Yeah'm sure. Don't ask me to do anything with depth perception though."

"Danny, I don't think—"

"You promised." And Dean had promised.

---

"What'd Bobby say?"

"Pam's stable. And out of I.C.U." Sam returned to their table.

"And blind, because of us."

"No, it looked a lot worse than it is, she should retain some eyesight, but we still have no clue who we're dealing with."

"We're dealing with Castiel." Danny muttered from where he was hiding his face from the "oppressive concept of LED lights". Dean was pretty sure the lights in here were normal, but he wasn't gonna argue with the kid who might be concussed about if the diner lights were a reasonable brightness.

"That doesn't exactly help us, though."

"Sure it does, With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us."

"You're crazy. Absolutely not."

"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?"

"Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, Danny's..." Sam looks at Danny, who may as well be a sweatshirt artfully arranged on the table. "You want to have a face to face?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. I looked, there are signs of Demons in town."

"Okay." Dean doesn't like where this is going, but he's aware of how strongly he doesn't want this to be a demonic plot, so he keeps his mouth shut.

"So, we go find them. Someone's gotta know something about something."

Dean opens his mouth, then shuts it again as the waitress approaches. Ah the awkward silence of 'don't freak out the locals.' They didn't have that in Hell, he doesn't miss it.

Three plates, each with a perfect slice of pie, makes their way to the table. They didn't have this in Hell either, this, Dean missed a lot. The sweatshirt on the table must agree, because it revives into a human person and pulls his plate to himself. It's the first thing the kid did since the seance that doesn't make Dean regret letting him skip the hospital.

Then, before Dean can dig into his own slice with the same intense focus, their waitress joins them at the table.

"You angling for a tip?"

"I'm sorry. Thought you were looking for us." She smiles as her eyes go absent of light. Then the man behind her does the same, then the cook in the kitchen. The front door locks with a resounding click.

"Oh, you will not." Danny hisses. And Dean tenses, for a moment, just a silly, ridiculous moment, he thought the kid was going to throw himself across the table, attack the demon with tooth and claw. Dean tenses, ready to drag the kid off the demon, because not even it deserves his full wrath. But Danny doesn't move, because that would be insane. The kid is not that insane, Dean has seen 0 behavior that would make him expect such a ridiculous action.

The demon locks eyes with the kid, several seconds pass, then moment is gone, and only Danny's half-given threat hangs in the air. The kid goes back to his pie. The demon turns to Dean as if nothing had happened.

"Dean. To hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck." She tries to play it cool, to pretend that she wasn't just as rattled by... whatever Danny had done— and rest assured Dean will find out what that was— but she was rattled, and the threat of her backup did nothing to help her regain control.

She tells him nothing they didn't already know. Dean tells her nothing she didn't already know. Dean doesn't bluff, because for some reason they don't need to bluff. They finish their pie, pay and leave.

A block down the road, when the feeling of being watched by a predator fades, he turns to the kid.

"What. Was. That?"

"Uh... the demons? I thought you guys dealt with those semi-regularly?"

"No. What you did."

"Ate pie?" Dean pushes the kid against the wall.

"Dean, what's going on?"

"You're telling me you didn't feel that, Sammy?!"

"Feel what?"

Dean searched his brother's face, it was pure worry not a trace that he was hiding something. Danny however, held not a trace of concern, not even the slightest fear that Dean might hit him. Cold blue eyes watch him with morbid detachment.

"Dean, what is it?"

"Nothing." Dean lies. Releasing the kid as his brother tried to pry answers out of him.

There is something wrong with Danny, and Dean is going to figure out what.

---

Dean's plans for investigation are stalled slightly. Because Danny's plan, apparently, was to sleep in the back of his van. As the kid still looked like a walking corpse, and his nose had started bleeding again, Sam had taken pity and insisted he stay in the motel with them.

Dean, now half convinced Danny was in league with the demons from earlier, (yeah the theory didn't make sense but Dean didn't have a better idea at the moment. It had been a long day.) was not thrilled with this plan. Did he have an argument that would stop Sam from being protective of his girlfriend's little brother? No. No, he did not. And to be fair, the kid did pass out the instant his head hit the pillow, so he probably wasn't an immediate threat.

Dean took the other bed so Sam would have to live with the consequences of his actions. He falls asleep thinking of jokes to make for either sleeping arrangement his brother chooses.

---

Dean is shaken awake. He swings the moment he realizes the dark figure is too short to be Sam.

Danny blocks him easily. He grabs Dean's arm to pin him for exactly the time it takes to look him in the eyes and say. "He's here. Castiel's here."

Then he lets him go, but Dean is still frozen, still pinned by the younger man's gaze. Green eyes almost glow in the beam of an outside streetlamp. It is not the same as a shapeshifter's ‘lazer-eyes'

but it is something.

But there's no time to think about it, the television flicks on with familiar static and the radio follows. There is too much glass in here. Between windows and mirrors and why on earth did they choose a motel with a mirror on the ceiling when the thing chasing them shattered glass? He shouts a warning and barely has enough time to throw the comforter over them both before the world explodes.

They huddle between the beds in a haphazard blanket fort that does nothing to stop the whistling scream. It feels too thin to be real protection against the glass either, but it holds, and the kid's eyes are definitely glowing but it's the least of his concerns.

It's not so different from hell. The noise, the danger, the cramping in his muscles as he tries in vain to protect himself. He can't tell the difference between a few seconds and a few centuries. But he's breathing, so he counts his breaths and loses count twice.

Neither of them move the blanket when things seem to calm. Another century that is actually six breaths, and Bobby is rushing through the door, shouting for them.

The glass heavy blanket is pulled away and then they're both being checked over.

"Where's Sam?" Dean demands.

"I don't know, he wasn't here when I woke." Its probably stupid, but Dean believes him.

They have no new cuts or bruises, though Danny's ears are bleeding a little.

They have the hospital argument again, Danny is feeling better(or worse) than before, because he threatens to spit on all of their socks. When that doesn't work, he threatens to not tell them what Castiel said. That does work.

"He says to meet him at the church on south street. He didn't give a time, but he promised he'd be in a form we can handle."

Bobby and Dean share a look, yeah, they're not doing that.

But the idea that it could be a trap seems foreign to the younger hunter. Danny argues that the spirit might be offended and that "A summoning might cause him to lose concrete form, then we'll just repeat the glass nightmare."

Well that was a good point: building with no windows it was then.

Needless to say Danny loses this argument.

---

So Sam is lying to him, they're in some old building marking it up with every religion known to man and Danny's claimed a whole section of wall for the doodles not known to man. Bobby gets sidetracked by it every fifteen minutes, but Danny must have credible sources for the marks because Bobby tells the kid to copy them down for later study.

Dean really needs to decide what to do about the kid. He's been helpful so far... but that was how things started with Ruby.

"This is still a bad idea." Bobby tells him. They're ready.

"I second!" Danny shouts from where he's copying his symbols into Bobby's notebook.

"Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?"

Bobby sighs, but begins.

---

Castiel tries to knock the kid out, just like he already did to Bobby. It takes everything in Dean to not panic.

"Yeah, no. Not doing that." Danny deadpans to the man-shaped thing.

"I need to talk to Dean. Alone."

"Well, you could've just asked. Going all sleepy magic on a guy is kinda rude. Dean? Want me to sit in the car?"

"Are you nuts?!" He checked Bobby's pulse.

"Your friend's alive." Bobby's pulse is even and strong.

"Who are you?"

"Castiel." "He's Castiel." Both human shaped things say. This conversation was going to be painful.

"Obviously, I mean what are you?"

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

"Which Lord?" Danny asks before Dean can say something dumb like 'nun-uh.' Danny's question definitely offends Castiel more than any denial Dean could've come up with. The guy actually staggers a bit.

"The One True God."

"You realize like 40% of the gods I've met say that, right?" What? And with that the kid has rendered the angel speechless with indignation, Dean's not gonna lie, he's kinda impressed.

"Quit pulling our legs, angel's aren't real."

"Dean, this is your problem, you have no faith."

Dean's not sure how to describe the fact that he was suddenly aware of Castiel's wings. Not that he saw them exactly, or felt, or heard them, he just suddenly knew where they were, how they unfurled from Castiel's body and were held out in proud display. Then the moment passed and they were gone.

Danny clapped politely. It ruined the rising feel of awe inspired dread and Dean hated how much he was starting to like this kid.

"You burned out that poor woman's eyes." Dean started. He wasn't letting this guy off the hook so easy.

[prosperdemeter2]

WIP Wednesday

Not watermark this time but another AU that I am having WAY too much fun writing... I give you a glimpse of Retail Manager!Eddie and Fire Marshal!Buck. I'm actually really excited for this story to be finished, I have so much planned for it.

Eddie was going to commit arson.

Which probably wasn't the smartest thought to be having while the much too attractive Fire Marshall listed out every single thing the previous store manager had screwed him over on but…. But Eddie was going to commit arson. At this point, it would probably help the company out to just burn down the whole store, take the insurance payout, and start over from the ground up. Preferably while still keeping him employed but, well, beggers couldn't be choosers and all that. “Your score is horrible,” the guy said with a tone of voice that meant that he was at least mentally, laughing in Eddie’s face. “Like, seriously, I don't think I should even let you stay open for business with a score this low.”

“So shut us down.” Eddie grumbled, kicking his sneaker against the scuffed up, unfinished concrete floor in front of the management desk.

He had been there a week.

A week. And Eddie had already had to argue with several customers over the return policy because the previous manager - may she rest in absolute hell (no, she wasn't dead, she had just gone to another store down the road and Eddie hated her on principle) - had thought the sign explaining it was tacky and removed it from the registers (which was illegal. They had to be posted). He had already had three workers put in their notice, the assistant manager kept looking sorry for him and annoyed by his questions, and now this. The Fire Marshal's inspection.

Eddie had worked his share of retail jobs and none of them enjoyed when the Fire Marshal visited. Granted, none of his stores had failed as hard as this one was apparently going to, but he figured there was a first time for everything.

The Fire Marshal snorted, “I'm not shutting you down.”

Great. Of course he wasn't. He was just wasting Eddie's time by pretending to care about his job. “Listen -.”

“I get it,” the Marshal said, pen tapping on the clipboard he brought with himself. It had several stickers on the back. Eddie had spied one that had said ‘hello, I'm anxious and I'm trying my best’. It looked like Chris’ folder for school. “It's, what, your first week?”

Eddie tried not to twitch and, instead, crossed his arms firmly around his chest. “Yes.”

“We'll call this a test run. You see what I do this time around, I give you a… Progress report or whatever. I'll come back in a few weeks when you've had some time to settle in and fix stuff up. Give you your real grade then.”

“That's…” Nice. Unfairly kind, actually. Something Eddie really hadn't expected. Every Fire Marshal Eddie had ever had the honor of being inspected by had shown up in a stuffy suit and tie, their badge clipped to their front pocket, and the air of someone who was almost good enough to be a firefighter permiating their being. This guy had shown up without any grays in his hair, a stupidly kind looking professional smile, a crisp white shirt with a small stain on his sleeve and a dark navy tie. He had introduced himself with a quick, firm shake of Eddie’s hand and said hello to the cashiers. He had worn his badge on his belt loop, not his pocket, and he had waited until Eddie was done with a customer before asking go to his office. Eddie didn't have any reason to be being so cold towards him. He almost felt guilty about it.

“Here,” The paper ripped as he tore off Eddie’s copy, signed the bottom, and handed it to him.

A 23%?!

Eddie balked at the score, “Oh, come on, man.”

“You're lucky it's not worse.”

“How is this lucky? It's an F minus.”

“Your smoke detectors don't even work in half the store.”

“They work.”

“See that blinking red light?” The Marshal pointed to the smoke detector above Eddie’s head. It blinked mockingly at him. “Half your alarms aren't doing that.”

Okay, so that… was a problem. “You marked down,” Eddie glanced at the paper, the neat, blocky handwriting in all capital letters. “That our store is too dirty. We clean it every night!”

“Cleary, not well enough.”

Absurdly, Eddie was insulted on behalf of his dusters. “You're just being petty.”

The Marshal bristled, “No, I'm being thorough.” He clicked his pen and shoved it in the front pocket of his khakis, and like it was mocking him, the overhead light in his office flickered, threatening to turn off completely. “I'll be back in a few weeks. Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade.”

“Get this stuff fixed, and I'll give you an actual grade,” Eddie mocked when he had left, burying his face in his hands with a groan. “Fuck you, Fire Marshal…” he glanced at the papers, to the name written out in print first before signed much too neatly. “Buckley.”

@wildlife4life 😘