#where does the chee come from???

[mysticfemme]

ok I've just found out that some americans pronounce Nietzsche as 'nee-chee' and not 'neet-shuh' ???

[lovebugism]

Hi!! I an so obsessed with your writing and characterization. Congrats on one year!! Can i request something for Steve?

Prompt:”i didnt realise we still weren't..."

Where someone asks reader and Steve how long theyve been together, Steve thinks theyd been dating this whole time, reader is confused cause Steve never asked her! Best friends to lovers and theyre both a little clueless. Thank you!!

i changed up the prompt a bit but i hope you like it :D — jim and joyce force you and steve to have an important talk about your relationship (established relationship-ish, also best friends to lovers-ish, fluff, 0.9k)

“Does it feel any better now?” Steve asks, cuddled next to you on the porch swing outside the Byers’ home. He’s been wearing the same worried glint in his honey eyes since the sun went down — when he tried to give you a piggyback ride and then slipped in the mud. He broke your fall for the most part, but your ankle got caught underneath him.

You nod, then grimace when you try to twist your foot. “Sorta…” you shrug.

“Have I said I’m sorry yet?” he jokes with a scrunch to the bridge of his chiseled nose.

“Only a billion times.”

“Well, I’m gonna make it a billion and one now. ‘Cause I’m sorry.”

“I’ve already said it’s okay,” you assure with a giggle, leaning over to knock your shoulder against his. “It doesn’t even feel that bad anymore. I swear.”

“I’ll kiss it better when we get home,” he offers, just to make you get all shy. His soft smirk widens to a fuller beam when his ploy works. “I mean, you are staying over tonight, right?”

“Of course,” you shrug. “How else are you gonna kiss my sprained ankle better?”

“Touché.”

He leans in for a kiss. The tip of his nose just barely grazes the side of yours when the screen door shrieks open. The Talking Heads playing from inside grows suddenly louder, then muffles again when the door shuts. Jim and Joyce stumble out together — eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, obviously not totally sober.

The woman pops a cigarette between her pink lips. Hopper lights it for her. “You know… I’ve already booked the reservation for Enzo’s,” he tells her lowly. His back faces the two of you, totally unaware of your presence and blocking any view of you.

“Oh,” she hums sarcastically, blowing smoke from her lungs. “Is that right?”

“Yep. So either I sit there all alone with my chee-anty, or you come and keep me company,” Jim lilts in a quiet, honeyed tone. “And if that doesn’t sound like a good time, then maybe the bottomless breadsticks will win you over.”

Steve leans against your shoulder. His mouth rests outside your ear. “Do you think they know we’re out here?” he asks.

You raise a silent hand with a pointed finger, shushing him without saying a word.

Joyce giggles like a teenage girl. “Look. I don’t even know if I like you,” she teases.

“But you’re thinking about it, right?” Hopper wonders, with all the hope of a schoolboy asking out a girl way out of his league. “‘Cause you should.”

Steve shifts. The porch swing squeaks. Both parents turn to face you, features softly agape. Jim blinks once. “You guys been sittin’ there the whole time?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“Enough to hear you groveling,” you answer.

“Alright…” he grumbles half-heartedly.

“The bottomless breadsticks are actually pretty good, Joyce,” Steve chirps obliviously, smiling wide and flitting his eyes between the two standing across the porch. “But, you know, if she doesn’t wanna go with you, Chief, I’m always available—”

“Okay, let’s go around back,” Hop announces, guiding Joyce down the steps with a hand curled gently around her elbow. The woman giggles when you whistle suggestively at them. Jim shouts at you over his shoulder. “Watch it! And ice that ankle when you get home!”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Harrington, don’t let her walk on it,” the man sighs, already exasperated. “Be a gentleman, alright? Give your girl a day’s bed rest, dote on her or whatever—”

“Oh, we’re not— I’m not his girlfriend,” you correct with a forced laugh.

Your words seem to take Steve by surprise. He flashes you a look, scruff features swirled with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re not dating, Steve.”

He scoffs an awkward laugh, brows pinching. “You’re joking, right?”

“Well, this is awkward,” Jim mumbles, grateful he’s not the butt of the joke for once.

Joyce slaps his arm. “Hop.”

“We’re gonna go,” the man announces, heading towards the backyard. “Have fun with… this.”

Steve waits until they’re gone to face you fully. He turns on the swing until his knee brushes the outside of your own. The hurt puppy expression on his face hasn’t quite ebbed. “You don’t think we’re dating?”

“You do?” you retort.

“Yes!” Steve shouts, talking wildly with his hands. “Our first date was at Enzo’s! I brought you flowers and everything!”

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend, Steve—”

“I thought it was implied!”

“—I thought you didn’t wanna be, like, official with me or something!”

Steve goes suddenly silent. His chest starts to ache like there’s a fire rising behind his ribcage. He swallows hard. “Have you been… Have you been seeing other people?”

“No!” you answer instantly, face twisted in abhorrence of the thought. “Of course not!”

“Okay. Good,” he nods, raking a hand through his wild hair and settling again. “‘Cause I haven’t either, so… We’ve basically been dating this whole time.”

You meet his smile with a playful glower. “You still shouldn’t asked me, though.”

“Well, I’m asking you now,” he announces and wraps an arm around your shoulder. He leans in until you can smell the birthday cake and soda on his breath. You don’t notice until now that your lipstick is smeared on his mouth. “Do you wanna be girlfriend-boyfriend with me?”

You purse your lips to the side with a playful hum. “Mm. I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

[softshuji]

𝟎𝟔:𝟏𝟏𝐀𝐌 | 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

Title: Smile for me

Summary: Rindou knows he's not getting any younger, but old insecurities are hard to fight- luckily for him, you're there to kiss them better. Link for masterlist here!

cw: afab!reader, talks of insecurities, pet names (kitten, princess), Ran being a stellar big brother, Rindou getting embarrassed easily and being a simp lol, some brief kissing and mentions of sex (nothing explicit), he's literally so cute and sexy I can't stand it. Reblogs appreciated!

Rindou is perturbed.

He’s used to waking an hour before you, 7AM with the sun still making a haphazard climb over the windowsill, all the weak and watery light he watches fall over the crest of your sloping shoulder from behind, his cheek pressed to your hair. He hopes you don’t notice, the alarm of his phone buzzing and snoozed, five minutes he thinks he can spare to spend here, you unaware of how his arms tighten around you, the shaky breath that comes from his dry lips and all the love he never mentions that he wishes was easier to talk about to you. 

You stir, slide a hand along his muscled forearm, the slight frown of your scrunched eyebrows loosening, a breath blown between parted lips and you settle again into sleep as Rindou untangles your legs from under the warm covers.

He hates it, this moment right here. It’s a visceral lump that sits in his throat when he pulls the covers back over you, slides your hair to the side to kiss just under your ear, your cheek, a finger that comes up to touch at you, a stray eyelash he pretends he’s lifting, because it’s easier when you can’t see. 

‘Mhm Rin,’ you murmur and stir, turning over to reach to where he should be, the indent of him in the memory foam where you hope your hand can feel the smooth muscle of him, soft hair and warm breath, the ridges of his shoulders where your arms want to come around. 

He watches you, bashfully, hiding a smile and embarrassed somehow, this many years later, knowing all there is to know about you, the wounds you’ve cleaned that even Ran hasn’t seen, the fights and arguments that led to the two of you walking out, coming back, kissing and apologies you’d never doubted were just there, days that started out tense and ended with the two of you with your foreheads pressed together.

He hates shutting the door on you like that, sprawled on your stomach, holding the duvet close to your chest, your face turned towards the sun that slips in through the slat in the window, a gentle breeze that pushes the curtains inwards, the peace he is leaving behind that he’s never sure he’ll live to see again.

When he pads to the bathroom, unceremoniously in fact, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, the tufts of his hair sticking up one side, tired eyes lined with shadows that drag down his skin, it is knowing that fact, that it could be the last time, that he’s not lucky enough to maintain what he loves and needs so much in any way that doesn’t mean pain.

He does need you, and he’d spent so long denying that fact, the cold and dark nights made warmer by drinks and drugs and parties that never really meant anything outside of those singular moments in time, when his mind is just so far away from the bottle or the glass or lines on the flat tables.

You like this routine of his though. Coffee made for you that sits in the pot till you wake, despite his absence, warm towels pulled from the dryer, leftover dishes washed and dried, the diligence he hopes is able to communicate what he can’t, a kiss left lingering on your lips, a “see you later kitten” that never feels sufficient enough when he leaves and his car backs out of the driveway. He stops every morning before driving off, a last look at the house, at the window where the blinds sway in the breeze, a secret pang in his heart when he remembers he’s left his heart in your palm.

But something else is on his mind right now and it bothers him with a lance of sharp pain when he sees the crease along his cheek that he swears is a little too new for his liking.

He runs a finger along his cheek, along his chin, golden honeyed skin that stretches taut when he frowns at his reflection in the mirror, a minor razor graze nicking along his jaw and the hard slam of his heart cracking along his ribs when the mark along his cheek doesn’t fade. 

‘Huh?’ he says, leaning forward, towards the mirror that fogs with his breath, a hand braced on the porcelain sink, the purpling strands of his hair pulled back by a baby blue headband. Yours, obviously. He’s long since lost the stubbornness of being insecure and uptight about these things, the fabricated fragilities that became too tiring to have when he realised it made you happy to break down those barriers he was so determined to keep. That being said, Rindou knows he’s not as young as he used to be, that the days and weeks of life have caught up to him, whether he’ll admit it or not. It’s been years since you met and the days and weeks of new love have long gone, leaving a soft and peaceful security in your wake.

His finger trails along the crease, a curve like an eyelash along his cheek, cupped around his mouth, the wisp of shorter hairs kissing at his cheekbones as he frowns, confusion and uncertainty slipping over his skin.

He avoids covering it up despite this, the ample tubes and pots of various skincare that neatly line your medicine cabinet stay untouched, but he gingerly touches his cheek, lets a finger trail along the crease even still, wondering if you’ll notice when you kiss him goodbye, sitting up in bed now, the pastel lilac duvet slipping off your shoulders. When the sun brushes against your skin, he halts at the door, the telltale marks and bites left on your neck and chest that leave a thick and dizzying desire in his throat. 

He is quiet when he meets Ran an hour later, a sullen type of silence that even Sanzu cannot coax from him, all pointed glances and chewing lips and half hidden behind his hair, as if Ran cannot sense the uncertain and tenuous scowling that he hates he’s still doing this many years later. 

Ran slides his chair along, feet propped up on the table, a glass of something dark held between two fingers, deliberate glances from the side of the viridescent violet of his eyes now falling on his Brother who sits back with his arms tightly folded over his chest.

‘So….’ he starts, and leans back in his seat, an eye trained on the way Rindou shuffles further into the leather, haunches and hackles rising on instinct, the turn of his eyes fixed on the mahogany table. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?’

Rindou stiffens, turns his cheek away, the flash of his eyes burning luminous as he sinks into the chair and really, it’s silly, he knows this and he hates that he cycles so often around to this behaviour, with Ran, with you, the same vulnerability that’s too terrifying to show despite all you have seen together, as if he is any less just because he feels.

Ran sighs, blows a forceful gust of minty breath between his lips and raises an eyebrow in deliberation. ‘Maybe I can help, whatever it is,’ he says. ‘Did you have a fight or something?’

Rindou churns the words, grinds them between his teeth, soft whispers that take effort, that take the force of him chewing them out from the lump in his throat, all the insecurity that he loathes, that has him stiffening under his Brother’s weighted stare. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘So? What was it then?’

‘Nothing, just forget it.’

‘Not going to happen Little Brother.’ And Ran grabs the arm of Rindou’s chair, pulls while his foot hooks under the leg, Rindou moving closer despite his ambivalence, and Ran almost chuckles when he audibly hears him scowl, tut under his breath in defiance, feet planted on the floor and dragging across the plush carpet.

He softens a fraction here, a soft and gentle squeeze of his heart, the lump in his throat that seems to scrape against his thoughts when he realises the resistance is so futile because it’s always been like this, Ran pulling him along, coaxing the words from him in a way he’s never given gratitude for before despite how much he cares. 

He has a memory, a vague flash of an image behind his eyes, the two of them running, huddled together, Ran coaxing Rindou to show him the cuts and bruises from his overzealous moments during fights, a soft and subdued “you’re such an idiot” that was always laced with affection, a plaster and bandage that Ran was always so quick to have on hand for his little Brother, food that he never ate so Rindou always had more.

‘You’re going to laugh,’ he says and hates it, weak and shamed as the sun climbs over the buildings, the whir of the heating that permeates the otherwise silent room, a raucous laugh from Sanzu that resonates through the gap in the door.

‘Yeah you’re right I am.’

‘See, I knew it-’

‘I’m kidding!’ A beat and Ran turns his chair, stretches his long legs under the table, sitting upright now and turning entirely towards his Brother who blows a wisp of wisp of hair from his forehead. ‘I’m not going to laugh.’

A beat, again, Rindou sharing a glance, a narrowing of his eyes through the individual strands of his hair, conflicted thoughts and fears bouncing around in his head before he uncrosses his arms and flexes his lithe fingers on the arms of the chair.

‘Well?’ Ran says and slides the glass along the table, a faint and chiming click as it meets the decanter. 

Rindou knows of course. With Ran, it’s always been a lot harder to tell than it has with him. Ran hides many things well and there’s the assumption that he’s so high above, so far removed, impossibly perfect in all things, that there can never be anything wrong with a man like him who has so much and wants for so little.

But Rindou’s the only one who has been there during those moments between. Gels and creams that Ran diligently applies, as if he can make himself something more than human, nights spent with the three of you sharing confessions by the fireside that the others have no knowledge of, moments in which Ran is not a Haitani, neither of them are, moments in which they are just brothers setting aside their burdens for the promise of light.

He looks at him now, tired eyes that still shine with mirth and exuberance despite himself, despite how exhausted he is and pretends not to be, the weight of all he has seen and shouldered for the both of them, the rock he has carried so that Rindou can stretch his hands a little further, be a little more, worry a little less and his heart fills with something that tastes like gratitude, this many years later when the two of them have grown out of petty jealousies and hurts that never mean anything.

‘Well- it’s just- it’s this okay?’ And Rindou turns, towards the floor to ceiling window, the weak and watery sunlight now dancing over his skin, a hand moving to pull back his hair as he glowers still, chewing haphazardly on his lip in anxiety. He lifts his other hand, touches at the crease in his cheek and points, as if accusatory, at the sharp indent of the skin, a little removed from the dimple in his cheek he’s still so embarrassed by.

Ran frowns, shuffles forward in his chair, eyes narrowing and searching, a slight shake of his head that has his earring tinkling, his rings catching the light as he rests his chin in his palm. ‘I don’t understand, what are you referring to here?’

‘What- what do you mean?’ Rindou points again, a finger zeroing in on the sharp crease, the curve towards his mouth he’s spent the last hour trying to hide behind his permanent scowl. ‘It’s this- this stupid wrinkle right here, I don’t understand how it got here.’

Ran pauses, the light slipping across his eyes, a slow and calculated smirk spreading across his lips as he reaches for the decanter again, deliberate movements that mirror the rise and fall of his eyebrows over the glass. ‘Oh…I think I understand now.’

And he takes a sip, eyes lifting from the glass to Rindou now settling back into a scowl, arms folded again, the crease hidden behind the wisps of hair falling over his forehead.

‘So what is it?’ he asks and purses his lips.

Ran smiles, genuinely, casts a glance towards the window where the sun makes a steady climb over the buildings, a swath of shadow that looms bright over the floor, the sparkle of buttery sunlight falling on his skin as he arches, catlike on the chair and leans back with his eyes closed. ‘Ask your wife when you get home. She’ll know.’

‘What does my Wife have to do with it?’

‘Just ask her, she’ll tell you.’

Rindou slows, as he usually does when you’re mentioned. Erratic heartbeat calmed by the thought of you, a soft and tentative quirk of his mouth that comes unbidden at the image of you, at the mention, at the concept and he finds he can’t help it, that it’s impossible for his body not to betray him like this. So he worries less for a time, touches it tentatively throughout the day, a self conscious glance at the mirror every so often, at his phone screen before it illuminates with the picture of you, his thumb catching on the screen before it fades to black once again. Ran sees, and Ran knows and it’s less subtle when he pats Rindou’s back at the end of the day, a ‘drive safe’ that he leaves pressed to his Brother’s jacket like a charm, and all the worry of being his only family, of knowing he’d die for him at a moment’s notice.

When he returns, a tired and subdued “I’m home Princess” that you hear over the sound of the splash of water slipping down into the bubbly froth of your soak, your chest flutters, as it usually does when you meet the sultry cadence of his voice every day. You wonder if it will ever not be like that, if you’ll ever not feel a better, newer version of yourself with him, a caterpillar shaking off its chrysalis, if there will ever come a point where his hands do not feel safe and strong and perfect on you. 

‘I’m in the bathroom Rin,’ you say as he comes around the corner, his jacket held over one arm, sock-clad feet in a matching pair of fur slippers. You’d say it was cute but you know he did it for you anyway. There’s little he doesn’t and you feel spoiled sometimes, unworthy, undeserving, when you find he’s constantly stepping out, stepping in for you, things he does that he never asks for payment for. 

‘The water’s still warm, come in baby.’ You lift your arms, and he flushes despite himself, when the water makes a beeline for the dip in your breasts where the bubbles rest, wet skin that’s shiny and luminous under the low lighting, a candle that has the shadow of your cleavage splashed on the wall. 

‘You don’t mind?’ And he shrugs his shirt off, his back flexing as he tosses it- and his pants- into the laundry basket, the black swirl of ink swallowing the light, and you press your thighs together on instinct, at the heated flush that crawls along your spine every time. 

It’s rather unceremonious when he sits in front of you, his back to your chest, breasts pressing against his shoulder blades, a drawn out sigh spilling past his lips when he leans into you, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, light scratches against his scalp, lips ghosting over the swell of his muscled shoulder. And you don’t mind at all, the weight of him against your body, the need for support that he’ll never ask for, the give and take that has you drawing out his fatigue with your kisses pressed to his skin.

‘How was your day?’ You lather shampoo in your hands, fingers wrinkly from being submerged for so long, and run them through his hair, down to the tips, a gentle massage of his scalp that has him biting back a groan as he settles against your chest. 

‘It was okay, the usual.’ He keeps it clipped, firm, enough, because he likes hearing you more, the soft and sweet lilt of your voice he keeps close to his chest, in his heart for safekeeping, tucked away behind the guns and blood, the countless deaths he’s seen and caused. 

‘Just okay?’

‘Just okay.’ A beat, a long and pregnant pause. And then- ‘Actually…’

‘Yeah?’ You pause, your hands braced on the showerhead, warm water slipping over the soft and bronzed swell of his shoulders. ‘Close your eyes- I need to rinse.’

His eyes flutter shut, a warm sigh, a flush on his skin that isn’t just the water. He lifts his hands, massages your thighs splayed on either side of him, calloused fingers inching dangerously close to that patch of sensitive skin and it feels…nice to be touched like that for the both of you. He thinks of how easy it is to be taken care of by you, how the need is never shameful, never something he feels guilty for wanting, how he’s taken care of and loved so perfectly and maybe it has changed him in some way, down to the fibre of his bones, a lighter, softer version of him that he reserves just for you. 

‘Mhm, yeah, Ran wanted me to ask you something- said you’d know the answer,’ he says, over the splash of water, bubbles receding now to where they cling at the sides of the tub. 

‘Go on.’

There is water splashing over his eyes and he lifts his hands momentarily to push his bangs back, his forehead glistening with soap, the suds clinging to the soft and inviting swell of his shoulders and you resist the urge to kiss- to bite- to sink your lips against the toned muscle. 

'Mhm, you know…lots of things don't you princess?' he says, a hand now splayed across your thigh on the right side again, thumb grazing the soft inside, shiny skin now covered with a wet and tantalising sheen. 

You suck in a breath, your hand juddering, stuttering against the roots on his scalp, a soft massage and rake of your nails along the fine wet hairs. 'Y-Yeah? I know some things baby, what is it you need exactly?' And his thoughts are far away, long and lithe fingers grazing the back of your thighs as he lifts them to squeeze at, the imprint of his hands leaving a rosy red on your skin and you shudder, your arms brushing his as you run your hands through his hair and squeeze the ends. 

And then he turns his head, a hand braced over the lip of the bathtub, wet hair now splayed across his shoulder and points to his cheek, where the offending crease now curls at the side of his mouth. ‘Can you tell me what this is? It’s been bothering me all day, and Ran said I should ask you and that you’d know and I hate seeing it and-’

‘Rindou.’

‘Yeah?’

You soften, a hand moving from the water to cup his cheek, water slipping down your forearm, off the crook of your elbow where the soap suds gather and cling before dropping with a plink. He sinks, unbidden against your palm, eyelashes kissing at his cheek from where you run your thumb across his cheekbone, eyes flitting and fluttering closed as a soft sigh spills past his reddened lips. 

‘You are very cute, do you know that?’ you say and your fingers drift to the back of his neck, a light trail of soft touches, the water-roughened pads of your fingers skimming across his neck, the spill of ink on the dip of his throat, Adam's apple sliding and shifting under your touch and he makes a choked sound, something between a gasp and a cough, clearing his throat in a way that does little to hide the creeping embarrassment in his chest.

‘If- if you’re just going to make fun I’m going to-’

‘Shhhh,’ you say, a slight lean forward that has your nose bumping his, a slight pull of your hand to bring him closer, your breath now ghosting over the soft cupid’s bow of his shell pink lips, glistening and pearly under the light. ‘I’m not making fun of you, but you really are quite special aren’t you? I’m so lucky to have you.’

He swallows, presses a chaste peck to your lips that he knows will lead to more, as if often does, and his hand comes to hold your chin, fingers that grip your jaw just right, your hair falling over his knuckles and clinging, as you do, to the fibre of him. He wonders if the charged moments like this will ever feel less electric and he dreads that one day it might feel like a chore to kiss you like this, to hold you in his hands with the rough fingers grazing a line along your sensitive neck and it aches inside when he thinks of ever not having you, of ever not seeing you again.

‘I don’t understand what you mean, don’t you think it’s serious? It means I’m ageing doesn’t it? I’m getting old.’ He hates that there’s a waver in his voice then, a tremble that seems to reverberate with the lump in his throat, a horrible and terrifying insecurity that now lays itself bare before you.

You click your tongue, a soft smile that tugs at your lips and you stroke his cheek, thumb moving over the crease back and forth. ‘It’s a smile line silly. That’s why Ran wanted you to ask me. It’s what happens when you’re happy a lot.’

‘A smile line? I don’t understand, don’t most people hate them?’

‘Well I don’t. I’d rather you be happy, and to know you’re happy, makes me happy too. To know that you like your life with me, makes me feel very lucky.’

‘Oh. But it makes me look older doesn’t it?’

You tilt your head to the side, a slide of your hair against your skin, your chest now close enough to brush his, the goosebumps prickling across your arms. ‘No, it doesn’t. And y’know what Rin, so what if it did? You are all the more handsome and sexy and gorgeous to me, and that won’t change if you get older. I’m not getting any younger either.’

It grates on him that it hurts inside, that it makes sense. But it does, really does. When he thinks of how many smiles he fights watching you sleep, watching you dream, kisses pressed to your forehead, to your cheeks and the back of your hands where he grins when you flush and look away and the concept of running home to you hasn’t changed in all these years. He thinks, after this long, the excitement might have worn off if you’d been anyone else, if he’d been any less in love and any less willing.

‘But you’ll always be pretty to me,’ he says, matter of factly, and unaware of how the heat rises to your cheeks so overtly, as if it’s the simplest thing to believe, as if it’s an irrefutable fact. Because it is to him. 

‘And you’ll always be the most handsome, sexy, beautiful man ever to me too.’ And damn him, for how your voice wobbles now, how the tears gather on your lashes so easily, pulled so freely, how it aches and stings your chest with so much love to see him so earnest, the flecked hue of his eyes where your reflection shimmers under the candlelight. You press a soft kiss to the crease and his eyes widen, an almost apprehensive stiff frown that bleeds into love when your lips touch his cheek again on the other side. 

He pulls you first then, your chin still in his hand, a heated press of his lips to yours, slotting so softly, a perfect fit that has you eliciting a small gasp, and his tongue touches yours tentatively, shyly even, a bare and wispy brush that has you leaning further into him. And when you break, the thin line of saliva does too, a string that falls onto your chin. 

It’s an hour later when the two of you are back in bed, glowing with the aftermath of sex and now huddled under the covers, you on his chest and him winding the ends of the duvet around his fingers. There is much talking in those moments, a little after, when he glows and giggles and laughs and pulls you close enough to feel the warmth of you on him, when time is everlasting and waiting in the palms of his hands, when the two of you are infinite.

You get a call from Ran a day later, a quick and quiet ‘thank you, for everything you do for him,’ and you bask in the unspoken love and understanding the three of you share, the golden thread that ties you all together. You know they’re long past it now, days of green and simmering jealousy that always permeated every sarcastic word. You know that’s part of growing up, and they have and it’s easier now, when they are old enough to appreciate each other and hold tighter to the memories they share. 

Maybe you are right, Rindou thinks as he dresses for work in the morning, leaving the sleeping you in the warm confines of your soft and perfumed bed.  Maybe it’s not so bad. 

Does it bother him that he’s shrugged off this old version of himself for you? The old him that found fault often, that ran headfirst into cynicism because it’s what he knew, what he was used to, that was gruff and aggressive and awkward because it hurt to be anything otherwise. Does it bother him that you’ve changed him enough for it to be so visceral?

It should, and yet it doesn’t. He likes it in fact and maybe, just maybe, he finds himself not biting back the smile when he kisses you before setting off, a lingering press of his lips to yours, that tells you everything he can’t.

a/n: hi, this was actually a present for my dear @tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang (i am so sorry it came so late but I hope you like it anyways) between writing and trying to find a new job, it's been tough to find the time and motivation, but I enjoyed writing this, I kinda cried like a few times y'know, as you do lol. Enjoy everyone!

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @sweet-seishu @burnishedcrown @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs @sin-and-punishment @deskaisers @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[tadpolesinyourshoes]

more od my stardew brain rot for the masses. I present:

My headcannons after life after marriage with the SDV bachelor/ettes:

Its kinda long, sorry and I also apologize for typos or if its incoherent. I'm no writer

Harvey:

You thoughy he worried avout your health BEFORE you got together, oh boy oh boy. He's alaays asking how you feel, bringing you snacks amd water while you work the farm. He cleans you up after the mines (while he lectures you about the dangers). He likes the domestic moments. The days it rains and you stay inside together with warm cups of coffee, snuggled up in the bed. Hes a classica kind of guy. He leaves roses on the table and brings you breakfast in bed. Since hes a doctor, you're both awake early. Every morning is filled with sleepy kisses and coffee. He never leaves the house without a kiss and a 'see you later'.

Shane:

This man is ANXIOUS. Hes a bundle of self doubt and insecurity. He spends his hours thinking how great you are and how itd a matter of time until you leave him. Reassure him, please. He absolutely loves every minute you're with him. Hes acrually a surprisingly good cook. He also is so good with kids. He definitely wants kids after seeing you with Jas. Hes not big on saying how he feels, but he's working on it. Instead he helps out here and there, feeding the chickens (he actually loves doing that), cleaning the house, cooking a meal when you get home late. Little touches when you're alone. His leg agaisnt yours, his hand gently in your hair while you sleep. He loves you more than anything (except the chickens. Knoe your place.)

Elliot:

He is down SO BAD. Carries a picture of the two of you everywhere. He shows you off whenever he has the chance. Hes just so proud of his sweetheart. He cooks well, but he hates cooking so you two agree to split the chores. You're his muse ans you best believe he makes it known. He leaves you poems; post-it notes on the mirror, on a napkin on the counter, written on the bavk of th grocery list, a torn out notebook page in your coat pocket. He loves when you do his hair. If you don't know how, he teaches you. On slow days on the farm, you leave the front door open for some air and you can hear him playing piano.

Alex:

His love language is tackling you (physical touch). You walk through the door and hes hugging you, kissing your cheeks, picking you up and taking you to bed. He can't cook, but he can bake. Evelyn taught him and he treasures the skill. For every anniversary, no matter how small, he makes a treat. He loves helping you around the farm because its an excuse to walk around shirtless and flex for you. He also has a weirdly green thumb. The crops wont sprout and the season is almost over? Send Alex to water them. The next moening you have a bounty like no other.

Sam:

He has ADHD so he does that peguin pebbling thing where he finds random objects and brings them to you because 'this reminded me of you.' He can't cook. For the love of yoba don't let him cook unless you want to remodel your kitchen. He still tries to be sweet though. Hes not a morning person, but when you wake up early he stumbled put of bed, hair messy, eyes closed and follows you like a sad puppy. Hes so clingy. Like SO clingy. Personal space. Gone. He talks to you through the bathroom door, holds you while you sleep, wants to be next to you all the time. He also loves your animals, especially the chickens. He has one favorite, but he won't say it (he might hurt the others feelings). Sometimes you come back from town and hes sitting outside on the porch talking to the chickens, who look strangely invested.

Sebastian:

He loves you so much, but he hates that everyone KNOWS he loves you. You gush about the sweet things he does to your friends and he goes bright red in the ears. The townsfolk ask about you so he tries to avoid having to talk to them. When you're alone though, he's the total opposite. Hes quiet, sure, but he does whatever he can to help you out. A kiss on your cheek before he goes to water the crops for you. Makes you a cup of coffee after work. When he was little, robin taught him how to carve and widdle. He makes you cute wooden figures, usually modeled after your animals. He takes you to the city for weekend date nights. He asks you to go on rides just to feel your arms around him.

Leah:

She treats you like the most beautiful painting shes ever layed her eyes on. When you're sitting with her on the beach, she'll paint dancing swirls up your arms to your hands. (Maybe you get it tattooed one day and she cries). All the paintings in your house are made by her. Much like Elliott, youre her muse. She makes you sit so she can paint you or practice sketching. But she can never get enough of you. When you lay together, she meticulously traces the shapes of your body. Your hands, your nose, your hips. Everything about you is perfect to her.

Emily:

She's a free, creative person. She wakes you up late at night to look at the stars and dance by the river. Shes been making a quilt out of scrap fabric for your bed. She tries to tesch you how to sew it so you cam be a part of it. She helps you with the crops and picks fresh vegetables when theh grow so she can make you beautiful dinners. She loves to cook for you because you always have something good to say about it. She could be on food network, you swear it. Every day when she gets ready, right after putting on her lipstick, she kisses your cheek to leave a little mark. You leave it there while you do your chores.

Penny:

Penny is naturally an early bird. She wakes up each morning with you. You two share a few minutes of quiet before stsrting coffee. You take turns making breakfast. Penny is so used to keeping the house up by herself after living with Pam, so being with you is a breath of fresh air. But she still likes to help you out. So before going to teach the kids, she helps out in the garden. You pass by in town while shes walking the kids home. You join them on their walk and Jas starts asking you for that princess story again. As you tell it, you see Penny's cheeks go pink. Its only the story of how you met. But to you it felt like a fairy tale. You walk home with your wife every day, sharing stories of your day while settling down on the porch.

Abigail:

Shes high energy. She heard about it, she wants to try it. Take her to the city to a nigt club and she'll dance circles with you all night. She makes you matching bracelets and you never dare to take it off. When you go down to the mines, she wants to come with. She doesn't fear them, but that scares you. You have to convince her to stay with the farm every time. But you always bring her a beautiful gemstone back. You think the amythest brings out her eyes. Shes a decent cook, actually. Contrary to what Sam and Sebastion may say. Her recipes are odd, but somehow, they always work out. Shes not a morning person, she won't get up even if you shake her. But somehow she knows if you forget to give her a kiss on your way out the door.

Haley:

She takes a million pictures of you. She loves to. You hide your face, she tells you how much she likes your smile. You're working on the farm and hear the shutter click. She likes the ways your arms look when you roll up your sleeves. After a long day in town, you bring her flowers. Shes always waiting up for you. She likes to slow dance in the living room and hear about your adventures from the day. She tells Alex about how great you are. Everytime you walk by and catch her off gaurd, she fixes her hair so she 'looks nice'. You just kiss her and tell her she looks nice all the time.

Maru:

She loves to help you out on thr farm. Just not... conventionally. She is her father's daughter, so shes always making you new inventions to make the farm run smoother. Better fertilizer, fresh feed thst produces better eggs, though she was banned from tending the animald after one of her feeds turned your chickens eggs bright pink. She loves to walk around town with you, always with your hand in hers. She's not a cook, but she still tries to learn from you. Shes learning, but she mostly just likes getting to be near you while you cook.

[cluelessrebel1988]

If I Ran The Zoo (or how I would plot out an Animorphs TV/streaming series if I had the time/ability/resources)

So this is something I've been kicking around in my head on-again, off-again for a couple years now, and I thought I'd put it out there, just for the lols (do people still say that?)

My thought process is for a 5 season arc, with each season being somewhere in the neighborhood of 13-15 episodes long, give or take. There would be a few changes with the order of things, and a few minor characters would play a bigger role. I'm not going to go episode by episode, but just sort of outline the big arcs for each season. I'm not in any way suggesting that this is the best way to do it, just that this is how I would do it.

Season 1

This season obviously would start the events of The Invasion and would primarily incorporate events/plot points from the first 10 books, including finding Ax in his crashed ship (though I would move that to either take place in the first episode, or in the second half of the two-part premiere), Tobais getting stuck in his hawk form (and getting an episode or two dedicated to him coming to terms with that), and introducing Erik and the Chee (Erik would be introduced as a friend of Marco's early in the season, with his identity as a Chee being revealed in the second half of the season).

The only major plot point from that run of the series I wouldn't put into play just yet is the reveal of Marco's mother as Visser One (although I would be very much establishing her through flashbacks, dreams, etc., so people will recognize her when Visser One does show up).

The main arc of the season would involve the Kandrona Ray and the events of The Stranger, with the team meeting the Ellimist and learning about the ray and its significance and plotting to take it down to try to end/expose the invasion. Erik and Ax tagteam providing info about the ray and its use, but it's the vision from the Ellimist that gives Rachel the final clue, again, as in the book, with that occuring at the end of the penultimate episode. The season finale is solely focused on devising and executing the plan to destroy the ray. The plan would succeed, which would prompt Visser One's return, revealing her host to be Marco's mother as the cliffhanger for the season.

Obviously, we would be exploring the kid's home lives more, with the relationship with their families and friends and the whole 'work-life balance' thing that comes with fighting a guerilla war against an alien invasion. Not to the point where they're having to fake illnesses to skip school every episode, but enough to show that it's putting a strain on their relationships. I would also explore Rachel's relationship with Melissa Chapman more and have Melissa be a bigger supporting character in the show. We'd also introduce Karen and Aftran in this season, revealing her to be a controller early on, but something that Cassie doesn't find out until the end of the season

Season 2

Season 2 would pick up a few weeks after season 1, as The Alien did with The Stranger. The kids learn that their hope that the invasion would reveal itself with the Kandrona ray destroyed were in vain and that Ax knew that. The premiere would largely follow the plot of that book, with the Animorphs attempting to integrate Ax into society and attempting to take the fight to Visser Three with the help of a Yeerk traitor, and Ax telling the others about the Law of Seerow's Kindness. Ax would get a lot of development this season, with the events of The Deception coming into play.

Tobias would help free the Hork-Bajir as in The Change and get his human form back as a morph, and the reveal that he is Elfangor's son would be included in this season as well (Obviously we're tapping into the Andalite Chronicles for flashbacks in at least one episode this season to help set that up).

Marco's main character arc would revolve around learning that his mother is Visser One, keeping it a secret, only to have the others find out later, thus incorporating The Predator and The Escape. Also Visser One is the big bad for the season, delving more into her conflict with Visser Three. The season would end with her supposed death following the Animorphs' thwarting of her plans

For Cassie, we cover the utilize adapted versions of The Departure and set up for The Sickness, with Karen/Aftran and Cassie perhaps getting trapped somewhere and forced to work together to get out of it, laying the groundwork for Aftran to be captured by Visser Three. The season finale would also center around the efforts to rescue Aftran.

Jake and Rachel will have arcs and roles to play in each of these stories as they each start to fall into their respective roles as leader and fighter, respectively. If they get their own arc, it would be around trying to save Tom specifically.

Additionally, Melissa is still around in her expanded role, but with a new friend: David, who would be introduced fairly early in the season in a recurring role (Melissa is also recurring at this point). She and David will have a B-plot where they become friends and are together when David finds the morphing cube, the discovery of which also occurs in the finale.

Season 3

Obviously, the primary source for the main arc of season 3 is the David Trilogy, with The Discovery in particular serving as the source for the season premiere. It plays out mostly the same, with the Animorphs learning that David and Melissa have the cube and plans to sell it online. They try to retrieve the cube before the two of them can attract the attention of the Yeerks, but ultimately fail, leading to the battle at David's house. They manage to get Melissa and David out of the house before they can be captured, and are forced to reveal themselves and tell them what's happening, essentially recruiting them into the Animorphs.

The events of the rest of the trilogy, with the threat to the UN summit or some similar event involving world leaders as a target that they have to keep the Yeerks from taking advantage of -- as well as with David and Melissa's reactions to being Animorphs -- would take up the majority of the plot this season. Obviously Melissa becoming an Animorph opens up some new potential for her arc, especially around her relationship with her dad and trying to come to terms with him being a controller (and the fact that Rachel has been keeping this a secret all along). She and David would have similar arcs around their parents being controllers, but while David ultimately turns against the Animorphs, Melissa does not (although David tries to convince her to). The season ends with the gang trapping David in a rat morph, as the books do.

One of Melissa's major character traits is her interest in technology, something she used to bond with her father over (working together to take things apart and then put them back together before be became a Controller to try to keep her safe) and I imagine her and Ax developing something of an awkward friendship as she tries to ask him about the morphing technology and other Andalite technology, with him being reluctant to share due to the Law of Seerow's Kindness. But, as he's grown closer with the Animorphs, he would eventually acquiesce and they would begin to bond. The two big relationships (Rachel and Tobias, and Cassie and Jake) also take major steps this season

The other major arc for the season involves other Andalites, incorporating The Arrival and The Other, with the reveal that other Andalites are on earth and some are there to help...or are they? The season would also end with Tobias getting captured by the Yeerks to begin the laying of the groundwork for the discovery that the Animorphs are not, in fact, Andalite bandits.

Season 4

The events of The Illusion and The Test would be adapted for the season premiere, including the introduction of the Yeerk resistance (led in this series by Karen/Aftran) and Tobias's capture and torture, with the main difference being that it is Tom (who has largely been a secondary or tertiary villain thus far) being the one who conducts the torture. During the interrogation, Tobias lets something slip that most of the controllers in the room don't pick up on, but Tom does, leading him to investigate and setting up for the finale, which would be largely and adaptation of The Diversion, with the race against time to save their families taking up the majority of the episode. Melissa is able to save her parents, her father proving to be an asset in the final season with his knowledge of how Yeerk technology works.

This season as a whole would focus on escalating the war between the Animorphs and the Yeerks. The stakes become higher, as are tensions following David's betrayal. Visser One returns, learning that Marco is one of the Animorphs and we incorporate the events of Visser, seeing the Animorphs rescue her.

Following Tobias's capture and torture, Rachel becomes more angry and vengeful, setting up for her arc over the final season (we've seen hints of her violent streak over the series up to this point, but it gets more intense this season).

Season 5

With their secret out, the Animorphs regroup in the Hork-Bajir valley and try to figure out their next move. The final arc of the series would play out largely how it does over the course of the final books, with the team recruiting more Animorphs to help them with their mission, and even trying to recruit government and military officials to aid in the fight. Tom gets the morphing cube, adding controllers with the ability to morph (other than the newly appointed Visser One) to the threat against the Animorphs. The final battle would be a multi-pronged attack, with the bombing of the Yeerk Pool being part of the final assault and not a separate battle.

Rachel gets aboard the blade ship and kills Tom before being killed herself. In an effort to make up for the harm he caused, Hedrick Chapman sacrifices himself to both ensure the Yeerk Pool bomb goes off and to save Melissa one final time (the pair of them were in charge of building/detonating it, along with Ax), and Jake orders the flushing of the Yeerk Pool on the the Pool ship, alienating Erek and the rest of the Chee going forward. All of this is in the penultimate episode.

The series finale follows the aftermath of the war in The Beginning, and, as the books did, the series would end with Jake, Tobias, and Marco (and probably Melissa) being recruited to help save Ax from an as-yet unknown threat.

And there you have it, my outline for how an Animorphs series could/should play out. As I said at the start, this is just my idea and others might have different thoughts about what order the arcs should go in and what significant changes (if any) would be made. Please be kind with any criticisms, and if you'd like to share your thoughts with me, my inbox is open. I also did a fancast for the series a few years ago if anyone's curious about who would play who

[sage-green-matcha]

WORLD IN COLOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🌸

In a world where in order to see color you must meet your soulmate!

Content includes: fluff! Mentions of sickness? light smut at the end! y/e/c = your eye color!

<3

<3

<3

"It's such a pretty color! Cute isn't it?" You shook your head as Tara held up her new top, Chad watching her with excitement. "You know I can't see it, Tara" You smiled with a small scoff. "Oh, right...sorry" you brushed it off, holding back a frown.

Out of all of your friends, you were the only one who still couldn't see color. It had been something you wanted since you were a little kid. The idea around it fascinated you.Your whole life was in black and white. Only till you found your "soulmate" you could finally see color.

You were happy for all your friends, but you couldn't help but get jealous when they talked about the sunset or anything else in color. "Hey! By the way, I got my boy Ethan to come over" Chad mentioned excitedly, setting up what he called the "mini-bar"

You weren't sure if you were just crazy but you felt sick all of a sudden. You didn't wanna say anything in case you were, but your stomach felt weird. The pain increased with every second, now you were sure you were going insane. Or maybe you just had a stomach bug. "I feel sick" you had had plenty of stomach aches before but none of them included the symptom of blurry vision.

Chad and Tara looked at each other with confusion. That's exactly how they felt when they were minutes away from meeting each other. "Ethan is your soulmate!" Tara got up excitedly, helping you settle down on the couch. "Huh?" You couldn't think straight, feeling yourself fall numb against the couch.

"I think I'm gonna vomit" you grumbled, head in your hands as you heard the door open. "Hey...guys" You couldn't look up but Ethan was limping as he walked in, Chad quickly grabbing him before plopping him down next to you. "Hey, Etha..." You had never met him before, but you already felt a strange connection with him.

"Guys, look into each other's eyes" Tara forced your head to the side, watching with anticipation. You felt much better already, eyes squinted as you looked at Ethan. The both of you wanted to compliment each other, but with what was going on, you couldn't speak.

It was like everything around you was slowly sucking back in its color, a tingling sensation running down your back. "What the fuck?" Your whisper was barely heard, Tara and Chad holding back a laugh with how silly the both of you looked. "Your eyes, pretty y/e/c" Ethan took a look at your face, your eyes wandering. "What does that look like?" "She doesn't know the colors, dude"

Ethan had made a special code with charts to figure out what color was which, but on the other hand you had no idea what was what. Your body ran with emotions, now all 5 of your senses tingling uncontrollably. You were insanely conscious, watching as everything around you finished brightening up.

The light from the room no longer hurt your eyes, feeling yourself adjusting to your new but usual surroundings. "We'll leave you two at it!" Tara pulled Chad into her bedroom, leaving the two of you alone with your new eyesight. "How do I know which  color is which...?" Your words were mumbled, Ethan zoned out as he stared at all the colors on your face. "Ethan..." You waved your hand in front of his face, asking your question again.

"Oh well, I've always kinda known I guess? I just looked up the colors on the internet and made a chart, like that couch" he looked over, making you turn your head. "It's blue, and that painting over there is pink" "My mom's favorite color is blue" you smiled to yourself, remembering the darkish hue the color had when it was all black and white.

"What's yours?" You scanned around the room, trying to find the color that appealed to you the most. "Pink..." Your eyes stayed on his lips, the pretty color of them hypnotized you. "And yours?" "Y/e/c" You recognized the pink color that was appearing on his cheeks, blush is what it was called. "You're blushing, it's pink" you smiled, holding back a laugh. "Yea, it is pink"

You brought your thumb up to his face, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. He watched with anticipation, making eye contact as he pulled you closer. Ethan was the shy dorky guy no one paid attention to, he wouldn't have dared to look anybody in the eyes, let alone someone as beautiful as you.

When you closed your eyes it was dark, but you felt a burst of color explode throughout your body when your lips met. They fit together so perfectly, it felt electrifying. The feeling of his large hands on your waist had you going insane, butterflies going wild in your stomach. The sound of light breaths and skin made you shiver. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, the taste of sugar on his lips making you reach even deeper into him.

All your senses were going off, putting all of them to use. He worked hard to get a noise out of you, finally letting one slip when his nails dug into your hips. "I never thought you'd be a masochist" "am not" you mumbled, squirming and holding back another moan while his nails dug deeper into your skin, his lips invading your neck. "Your eyes say otherwise"

[rubykgrant]

(Segment of my story, How It Feels, with Jon and Martin recovering at Daisy's cabin after leaving London, and before the Eye Apocalypse happens. This in particular focuses on Martin, how he's changed since being in the Lonely, and how he is also still himself. This involves tooth loss and feelings of depression/disassociation, but isn't gory, and leans more toward being comforting. Inspired by the art of @lonelyslutavatar ~)

Jon is quite proud of himself for responding to Martin in a very calm manner, instead of rushing in and assuming the worst.

The calm quickly shatters when he sees Martin standing in the bathroom, face a mix of embarrassed and worried, holding two teeth in the palm of his hand.

Several teeth-related horror stories from past statements flash into Jon’s mind (the apple, a few dozen about some sort of “evil tooth fairy” that were probably not real but still upsetting, and several connected to the Flesh and the Hunt). Jon nearly starts to panic as well, but somehow he composes himself, and moves slowly, helping Martin sit down on the lid of the toilet, and begins trying to figure this out.

Martin has some pain in his jaw, but nothing feels “broken”, and there isn’t any blood. The teeth look “fine”, except for the fact that they aren’t where they should be. Jon asks Martin to open his mouth, and it doesn’t appear as if anything is infected or irritated. To be thorough, Jon runs to get a small torch.

“I’m VERY close to freaking out! Just so you know!” Martin says, loudly.

“Yes, I’m- I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a-”

“ANOTHER ONE JUST CAME LOOSE!” Martin is able to spit it out before yelling the news to Jon. He does NOT want to swallow any of his teeth.

“I’M COMING BACK! HERE! HERE I AM!” Jon stumbles to a stop at the small door, and walks back in carefully.

This time, Martin opens his mouth WIDE, and Jon shines the little light to see properly.

“Oh,” Jon says after a moment.

“Oh? Oh, WHA?” Martin asks, making sure his mouth doesn’t close.

“Oh, um… I sort of see the- er, the issue?” Jon answers, without actually giving Martin a real answer.

“Wha ih ih?” What is it?

“Well, I can see the empty areas, where your teeth were, and… it looks like something is, er- pushing them out?” Jon elaborates. Martin finds this description unhelpful and worrisome.

“UH HUH UH AH EEE?!” The fuck does that mean?! Good God, what was in his mouth?

“Sorry! There are NEW teeth coming in! Like- like when we lose our baby teeth, and-”

“I AREHEE AH I AHEE HEE! HOW OOH I HAH OR!?” Martin demands, and after a brief second of trying to translate it in his head, Jon realizes Martin has just said- “I already lost my baby teeth! How do I have more!?”.

“Uhh…” before Jon can say anything else, two more teeth fall out, helped by Martin’s attempts to talk. These were from his top row, on the left side. They completely leave Martin’s mouth, and land in his lap. Martin groans, irritated. Jon tries to speak again, before something else distracts him. “If- I had to guess, which is all I’m doing, I’m sorry, this- this might be like your OWN spooky puberty?”

Martin groans again, giving Jon a glare.

“You were working with- hell I’m just saying his name, Peter, you were working with Peter for a while, and before that you were working at the Institute. That changed all of us, a little bit, but Peter really pushed you along, and… what finally made me change and become something more than just human was- I died. Sort of. When I was in that coma, I was pretty close to being dead, but then I came back. You were… you were almost ready to fade away when I finally found you, and then you came back. I think you might have become something more than just human,” Jon pauses a moment, to let Martin have a chance to understand what he’s saying… and because another tooth falls out. “And we saw what happens to ME when I don't feed on any statements, so… you haven’t been doing anything at all when it comes feeding what you are connected to,”

Jon places his hand on Martin’s cheek and turns off the torch, letting Martin know he can close his mouth again. Martin does so, and then immediately gives an angry huff, spitting still another tooth into his hand. He gathers up the rest in his lap, so he’s holding all of them together.

“What the hell. The isn’t FAIR. Your- your eyeballs didn’t fall out when YOU changed! And why my TEETH?! Am I supposed to start eating people? Peter didn’t even do that!” Martin blinks a few times, uncertain. “I mean, I never SAW him to that…”

“This might not be so LITERAL. I doubt this is a sign you need to actually eat anybody-”

“Pff, whatever, you don’t KNOW…” Martin scoffs.

“What I mean is- sometimes when people like us change, it isn’t always straight-forward. This might be more… like it symbolically represents the way loneliness can, er- consume you? Eat you up?” Jon is leaning back against the wall opposite Martin, arms crossed anxiously. He hunches his shoulders up, as if to shrug in a way that asks for approval.

Martin does not exactly “approve”, but unfortunately, he’s beginning to see that Jon may have a point. He also remembers that nightmare he had, as if it had been some kind of “punishment” for rejecting the Lonely. The fact that Martin can now remember Peter purposefully pulling him into the Lonely to avoid true and permanent death added up as well. Did the Eye punish Jon when he wouldn’t feed it new fear? Yes, he supposes so.

“Wonderful. So my teeth are falling out as a METAPHOR. And what am I even supposed to DO about it? Read statements that are relevant to feeling forlorn and isolated?” Martin now feels THREE teeth pop loose. Great. More to add to the collection in his hands.

“Perhaps not…” Jon ventures another guess. “That’s sort of the specific thing I’m stuck doing. And it started even before the coma, remember? So maybe- was there anything you did while working with Peter that might have been related to feeding this particular kind of fear? It might have even been something that seemed almost normal, but the more it happened, the more it had an affect on you, and when you stopped, you felt strange?”

Martin’s first reaction is to just say NO, because he’s in an ornery mood (Why shouldn’t he be moody? His teeth are falling out! He has a right!). Instead, he tries to give Jon’s question some real thought…

When Jon was still in the coma, and Peter first became the “new boss”, Martin had initially tried to take on more responsibility as a way to shield other people from the problems that came from working so closely with… a man like that. The most unnerving part was how pleasant Peter seemed. He often asked Martin to come along as his personal assistant when he went on various errands; some were clearly for meeting with other unusual people part of the whole Fear situation, while others were part of the more normal side of business for the Magnus Institute.

These people, in either situation, would usually not even acknowledge Martin at all until Peter made a point to turn to him, ask a question or make a request, and then they’d startle to see there was a WHOLE man there beside Peter. When Martin got more used to it all, he’d speak up on his own, blatantly pointing out when somebody was giving Peter incorrect information or outright lying. In those moments, they were not only surprised that Martin existed, they were suddenly INTIMIDATED by him.

Peter was very amused by this, and proudly complimented Martin on being so “accomplished”.

Yeah, that may have been how this started.

Martin was well practiced at going unnoticed, keeping quiet, fading into the background. That was a good way to keep yourself safe. It was also a good way to be lonely. The shock of suddenly being given attention no doubt fed Peter’s patron Fear plenty of Martin’s own nervous energy… and when Martin did it on purpose, making himself known with an aloof sort of confidence, it caused unease in other people. The Lonely probably loved feeding on all that.

That was the start… but what turned it into a pattern, something that Martin had to continue doing, and also something that he did without thinking about it?

It finally occurs to Martin that what was happening when he first left the Lonely might be a hint; the sleepwalking. That never happened back in London, not exactly. However… very often, when Martin left the hospital after visiting Jon, or took a break in the evening in the middle of working late, he would walk through the city and let his mind wander.

No, that was putting it mildly. He’d feel a growing disconnect from his own feelings and thoughts, and whatever remained gave him a sense of bored contempt, if anything.

He blended into the crowds, but still wasn’t “part” of it all. Martin remained separate, even in the shared experience of riding the bus or waiting for a light to change.

Occasionally he would pop into a store and use the self check-out lane, or even a bar with no intention to mingle or drink, and he would go unnoticed.

All around him, he would see people talking to each other, or chatting on calls, crying over break-ups, getting into arguments, lying about what they were doing, waiting to meet somebody who wasn’t coming, staring at displays in stores of things they longed to buy but couldn’t afford, getting frustrated after searching for a job all day, trying to be funny for friends or deal with a stressful visit with family… Martin could nearly picture himself, as if looking on from another point of view, and he was nothing but a nameless face on the street.

Obscure and forgettable. Martin would walk on, automatically, no effort in reaching his destination. It was eventual and certain. He may as well be a memory, instead of somebody who was still there.

Then he would be back at the Institute, or at home, and his thoughts would click back into place. Maybe he’d take a shower, or have something to eat. If it wasn’t too late and he was done with research or paperwork, he’d watch something on TV. It was alright. Mostly.

In the current situation, with Martin sitting on the toilet in a bathroom of a safehouse in Scotland, trying to figure out why he’s losing his teeth… he thinks that he’s finally connected some dots, and sees the bigger picture.

“Yeah… well, um- I guess maybe when I would walk around London and sort of lose myself in groups of people, without interacting with anybody, that was possibly like feeding on loneliness. So. Maybe I just need to do THAT again,” Martin looks up at Jon again, now the one checking to see if what he’s saying makes any sense.

“Hmm… it might work when you go out to buy us supplies. You’ll be around people again, and- whatever lonely feelings they have,” Jon nods, though he doesn’t look happy about it. That’s fine. Martin isn’t happy, either.

“What if I… Jon, when you got REALLY bad, you compelled people to talk about things when they didn’t want to. What if I VANISH somebody? What if I can’t control this?” Martin asks, and as soon as he closes his mouth, he has to spit three more teeth into his hand.

“That is upsetting, I know…” Jon replies, reaching out one hand to place on Martin’s shoulder. “But, listen- a few days after I started to really try and rein myself in, one of the people I compelled actually showed up at the Institute again. I was… well, I- erm…”

“You were outside, sneaking a smoke,” Martin guesses.

“Yes, FINE. Anyway, I thought they were still having problems because of me, and I immediately apologized and assured them it wouldn't happen again. I was honestly sort of distressed about that, I didn’t want to go find everybody I had compelled, because seeing me might just make them even MORE afraid, but I still wanted to say I was sorry… well, this person told me they only came there to explain they weren't angry with me. They didn't forgive me exactly, but-,”

“What, they wanted to rescind what they said before? Like, withdraw the complaint?” Martin raises his eyebrows at this.

“Something like that. They told me… they weren’t having nightmares anymore, about me OR what I made them talk about. It had faded after a while. They also told me that it sort of helped, in a weird way, to finally confront something they’d been ignoring for so long. And now they knew, the world had scary things in it, that was REAL, and they weren’t crazy for wanting to be careful…” Jon sees Martin wants to jump into the conversation, but has to pause to catch another tooth that has escaped. Jon continues talking, knowing what Martin was going to ask.

“The reason I didn’t say anything at the time- I didn’t want it to seem like I was making excuses. Oh, this person says the nightmares stopped and they faced their fears, this means nobody should be mad at me anymore! Hell, no. I still forced people to share private thoughts and experiences against their will, and that wasn’t right. I’m only telling you this NOW because I’m hoping that you being around people in public, absorbing whatever you need, THAT will be more like when I read the statements. The fear and the hurt already happened. You aren’t making it worse. If you keep ignoring this hunger, then… it will most likely get more intense, but even if that happens, you still might not vanish somebody to death. People even escaped from what Peter did, occasionally. I just don’t want you to feel… hopeless,”

“OK… yeah, OK. This is still pretty fucked, though,” Martin says, trying to steady his breathing.

“Yes. And it will probably continue to be fucked. But we can try to help each other feel better,” Jon smiles down at Martin, and somehow, that makes a tense knot in his chest loosen.

Jon waits with Martin as the last few teeth come loose, and gets a small glass jar for them. After some “Should I leave them under my pillow?” jokes, Jon grabs the small torch again to see what the situation is with Martin’s new set of teeth…

“You really don’t feel them growing in?”

“Uh-uh,” Martin may not physically feel the teeth coming into place, but he has noticed that the ache in his jaw is gone, and the weird grinding has stopped (that was probably his weird new “spooky” bones making room for his weird new “spooky” teeth. This sounded like such a stupid problem when he thought of it that way, but there just wasn’t a better term unfortunately).

“Well, they’re almost all here, and- they’re sharp! Martin, your new teeth are POINTY!” Jon uses his hand not holding the torch to tilt Martin’s head back slightly.

“WHA? LIE A HA-HIRE?” What? Like a vampire?

“No, not like that… you don’t have fangs, exactly… oh lord, I can see them rising up!” Jon says, and now Martin is starting to get annoyed that he sounds EXCITED about this. “They’re wider, and sort of flat… Martin, I think these are like- like shark teeth!”

Jon has set the torch aside, and is now holding Martin’s head with both his hands, leaning him back even more so the light from the ceiling shines into Martin’s mouth. Jon is pushing aside Martin’s upper lip to see the teeth as they move through the gum better, and that is IT, Martin is DONE.

“GEH YER FEE-HERS OW UH I OW!” before Jon can translate that into “Get your fingers out of my mouth!”, Martin actually SNARLS as a final warning, Jon whips his hands away, and just to be dramatic, Martin CHOMPS his mouth shut.

His new teeth are officially finished growing in; all the severe ridges fit together. Sharp, solid, and strong.

Shark teeth... really? Was that just the Lukas Brand? Martin has to turn half-way into a SEA MONSTER? For the aesthetic?

Jon knows Martin wasn’t actually going to bite him… and Martin knows that Jon knows this. Which is why Jon still looks more fascinated than afraid of Martin’s new MONSTER TEETH, and that just makes Martin want to try and snap at him again. Jon can see that as well, and he starts to snort laughter. Martin wishes he was strong enough to stay furious, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a smile.

Yep. All his human adult teeth fell out, he’s got weird spooky shark teeth now, he’s damn near close to laughing about it. He must be mad. Oh, well. So is Jon.

[goldenj0]

security tape

pairings — beefy!biker!bucky x fem!reader

warnings — dom!bucky, unprotected sex, breeding kink, lap dances, talks of sex tapes/pictures/audios, dumbification, beard burn, mentions of balls, oral fem receiving, daddy kink, exhibitionism/public sex, dirty talk, spit kink and cum play

summary —only for our eyes.

wc — 3.2 k

authors note — AHH !!! OVER 2.5 K OF YOU BABIES!!! LOVE U ALL SO MUCH !!!! SO IN HONOR OF THAT, HERES THE FIRST INSTALLMENT OF MY NEW AU VERSE !!! will be part of the for our eyes only verse

࿐ m.list 🂱 s.stan list

“Well look who finally decided to make an appearance.” Bucky’s voice rang through the beer infused air, back pressed back up against the dark color cushion and behind the wooden table that was littered with papers, a screen and a nearly finished glass of bourbon. The hum of the ice makers coming to life and the music fading from one song to another.

A sympathetic and amused look, thrown in his direction as your legs took you to stand in front of the table. Hands pressing themselves against the cool wood table and resting your body against them. 

“I told you I’d be here around six.” Leaning further on to the table and at the pout forming against his lips and the space growing larger between his hairline and eyebrows. 

He scoffs at the audacity, looking at his watch, “Yeah, a whole forty seven minutes after.” Firm glare or what was trying to be, but the glimmer of his midnight eyes proving otherwise that he was happy you were here, with him where you where were suppose to be.

“Yeah ‘s in the general area of six.” You protest while holding back the laugh that you so desperately wanted to let go off at how childish the six foot four leather clad biker was being about this.

His arms uncross from one another and his lip untucked itself from his pearl white teeth. Not saying a word as he slid out of the booth and over to the low lit bar where the open bottle of bourbon sat, pouring himself another glass. 

It was comical when you really thought about it. The six foot something tattooed cover biker with a sour look and grumbling under his breath. To anyone and everyone else he was labeled as grumpy and scary, but to you— he was a big softy, with a weak spot for you. 

Making your way over to him, you squeezed your body between him and the cool wooden bar, doe eyes already begging for forgiveness, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I, uh got distracted.” Tucking your lip between your teeth, your cheeks growing warm at the faint thought of what made you late. 

Grabbing his attention, the midnight eyes searched your face for an answer to said distraction. The pink dusted cheeks— warm to the touch, the dazey hooded glimmer in your eyes and the slightly ruffled hair was drawing a conclusion, but couldn’t quite draw a conclusion.

Then, with one last sweep over your enhanced features, it all clicked.

Bucky biting back a smile— or a smirk, “Distracted?” His voice dropping low and hands bruising your hips as he deposits you up onto the bar. “Care to explain, Ace.” Glimmer of hope you’d spill all the details he was desperately trying play in his mind.

“Uh, I couldn’t find my keys.” That was believable.

“Really?” His hands trailing up your bare legs, only covered by a denim cladded mini skirt. “When I left an hour before you, could’a sworn the were on the gold dish on the counter.” Challenging you.

Your eyes growing ten times in size, “I, uh mean my wallet. Yeah, couldn’t find my wallet.”  The goosebumps rising the closer he got to the hem of your mini skirt. Fingers playing with the distressed material as he hummed at your answer — not believing your words for a moment.

Bringing your body closer to him, his lips hovered over yours, “Sure it wasn’t something else that made you late?” Bourbon mixed with mint meeting your cotton candy like lips, “Maybe something like on your phone.”

Wicked, delicious and a dangerous game.

One of Bucky’s ring cladded, tattooed hand leaving your thigh as it met the heat of your cheek, thumb brushing against the high point, encouraging your answer, “How’d you figure it out.” Sheepishly asking with a glimmer of pride.

“Cause ‘m usually the one makin’ you look that way.” 

“Bucky!” A hand meeting his concrete shoulder, doe eyed and face warmer than before and far pinker. 

“Love it when ya scream my name.” Smiling before pressing his lips against yours. Bucky’s tattooed hands seemed to have a mind as they wandered around your body, meeting your legs , under your skirt and ever so lightly ghosting against your thighs which elicited a moan letting him deepen the kiss and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

A fucking dream come true. His best girl — perched on the bar, leather jacket and all, nape of the neck exposed for his lips, sloppy kisses and even messier hands.

“Which video did ya watch?” Bucky spoke against your lips, trailing down your jaw and to the column of your neck, a trail of destruction everywhere his lips connected to your skin.

“I— the one of us after Sam’s house party.” Gasping out when his teeth grazed your skin. “Y’know the one where you tore my panties right in half.”

“Didn’t seem to mind when I made you cum four different times that night.” He hums against you, eyes gleaming with pride when he met your eyes that were watching his every move.

Four years of love and two years of living together. Soulmates. Complete opposites, but alike in many ways. 

A crisp autumn night, layered in a waffle white long sleeve tucked away in a leather jacket with light washed denim jeans. One too many tequilas as your sneaker cladded feet took you to the very man that you’d come home to every night and show you how much he loved you every morning. And Bucky thanked his lucky stars every day for those doe eyes and wicked tongue. 

You fell hard and fast for the six foot something, leather wearing, tattoo covered biker.

Neither one of you loving someone the way you loved each other. Day in and day out proving your worth to one another.

“‘Specially when I did that thing with my tongue.” He mumbles out, his forefinger running between your wet folds followed by many curse words.

You gasped out a string of incoherent words when his cold rings could be felt when his finger dipped into your messy hole.

“Gonna let me wreck you.” Other ring adorned hand squeezing your bare thigh, voice dangerously low and the midnight eyes pleading for your acceptance. “Let me destroy this little pussy. Make her cry and squirm.” Retracting his finger to bring to his lips— tasting his favorite thing. 

“Sweeter than ever.” He hummed out pressing his lips against yours so you could taste you on his lips. “And always so messy for me, for daddy.”

“Bucky.” You whine grinding against his jeans, trying to alleviate the ache between your legs. The pleading, close to pathetic look you were giving him was enough for him to flip your skirt up and blow against your puffy pussy. “Don’t tease me, touch me.” Lips pouty and prominent with the taunting promise of watching them quiver.

“Yeah? Want me to make ya sing, baby? Play with her all night? Make her weap and cry till she can’t take it anymore?”

A moan escapes from your bruises lips with a nod and eyes fluttering closed.

“Gonne let me eat your pussy, baby? Know you’re gonna be my good girl for daddy tonight.” He questions licking his lips as his eyes follow your glistening pussy, “Shit, baby. A drippin’ mess, s’all for me? Needs me that bad, huh?”

Nodding your head in response, your walls clench around his forefinger and middle finger, your head becomes even fuzzier when his lips connect with your clit as his tongue begins spelling words that word spoken between the two of you.

“Got the prettiest fuckin’ pussy ever. Can’t wait to show you what she looks like when ‘m done with her tonight.”

Your senses are in overdrive. Hypersensitive. And when his beard brushed against your folds the most pornographic sounds falls from your bruised lips and he inserts a second and a string of saliva leaving his lips runs against your folds to your hole. 

It’s filthy and delicious. 

The pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth mixed with the wetness from your pussy and the moans from Bucky are driving you closer to the edge. 

“D— Daddy, ‘m gonna cum.” You cry out, squeezing your legs around his head, only making him shove his face further into your sensitive pussy. “Don’t stop, please.” Whining out rubbing your face against his mouth and beard. The burn of his hair increasing the pleasure and without a doubt leaving the promise of him on you tomorrow.

Bucky’s tongue laid flat against your clit, his eyes connecting to yours holding eye contact telling you to cum, to be his good girl. He’s desperate to taste you — your warm cream filling his mouth. He needs you spread on his beard and he’s begging for it with every lick and curl of his finger.

A few more swipes of his tongue — spelling his name, the promise of coming home and the curl of his cool cladded fingers brushing against your spongy spot was enough for you to cum, squirming against him as you see the stars. 

Bucky continues to clean you up. Never missing a drop of the warm cream lapping up every last drop. Standing tall and proud with a smirk plastered on his lips, noticing how floaty and fucked out you already look.

Your slick glistening against his beard, swollen pillow like lips and blown pupils, “Think ya can give me another on, baby?” Bucky husks out, nudging his nose against yours — smelling you on him.

Your eyes lashes flutter close when your lips meet his, moaning into his mouth with the taste of you on the tip of his tongue, as you palm at the prominent bulge hidden beneath his jeans.

The zipper makes a loud, thick sound, as your hands find the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head— only left in your mini skirt when his angry cocks’ finally able to breathe.

“Shit— gettin’ pretty everytime I see you.” The butterflies soaring in your stomach when you feel the mushroom leaky tip drag up and down the reminiscence of the mess he created earlier before he eases the head into your sore but desperate hole. 

“Just stretched her out this morning, how’s she this tight already.” Bucky continues, “Guess ‘ll have to fix that, seein she’s gonna suck me back in everytime I pull out.” Bottoming out — pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest.

“Gonna fuckin’ ruin her and you, baby. Gonna have her a weapin mess, beggin’ me for more after I fill her up.” Bucky states as he slams in and out of you at a bruising but promising speed.

Bucky fucks into you as if his life depends on it. His midnight eyes connecting where his cock meets your needy hole, moaning when he sees himself covered in your slick.  Bucky’s balls slapping against your ass as words fall from his lips when he feels you suck him in and clench around him. 

He pounds into you relentlessly, the girth is snug and length is delicious. His bulbous tip brushing against your g’spot, the delivering of every thrust is deliberate and tasteful. He’s demanding you feel everything that makes his cock — veins, crevice and mushroom tip.

“Daddy needs you to be a good girl. He needs ya to drench his cock. Need ya to make a slutty mess, c’mon I didn’t fuck you that stupid, yet. Cum for me. Make a mess so daddy can make a mess in you.” Bucky states, eyebrows furrowed, cock slipping in and out of you.

His balls are heavy. Begging for a release. Begging to fill your silky creamy walls. Needing it. 

“Be a messy slut and cum for me.” Buckys fingers start rubbing your little clit, in small deliberate circles, as you moan loudly clenching his cock like a vice making his balls tighten and body tighten.

Your legs to shake and spazz around his thick thighs, as your pussy wheeps and creams around his cock riding out your orgasm.

“Good girl, baby, fuck, gonna cum.” Bucky moans ropes of his seed shot from his bulbous tip, spewing into your bruised and velvet like walls, flooding your pussy to the brim, riding out his and your orgasms. 

A few moments of labored breaths and stolen kisses, he slowly slides himself out, careful to not let anything spill out. His fingers coming down to collect the cum that’s dripped out, collecting it and running his fingers along the rim of his glass— a promise to taste you the rest of the night. 

“I have to save some of you for later Ace” Licking his lips and fingers once done.

Tucking himself away and helping you collect yourself you catch that lovestruck boyish look he’s given you a million times.

He cups your cheeks, cold rings flushed against your pink cheeks, keeping you close to his heart and the steady thumps beating at the same rate. Passionate and messy. Desperate and yearning. Actions speaking louder than words. Each kiss expressing the impact and heaviness of his love. Everything pouring into this kiss. 

“Much as I love those sweet lips, gotta get ready to open the bar.” Speaking lowly and with a huff. Meeting your eyes as he leaned down for one last kiss.

“Oh and Ace,” Your eyes connect with his, your head titling to the side — indicating for him to continue, “Can’t wait to watch the security tape later.” His tongue licks the rim slowly and deliberately as he goes to get the supplies to clean the counter.

taglist: @mackenzielovee @r0und3bitch @glitterandsparklessss @onmykneesforrafe

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt + kitten licks fic

I know it's canon that Eddie has a black cat named Ozzy but I like to think he has a female black cat called Sabbath (so basically... Black Sabbath) and you and Sabbath are what Eddie likes to call "his 2 favorite girls"

Any blurb/headcanon /opinions on this one?

So, since I already did a blurb in this universe for my 2k that would contradict this, I decided to make this not in that verse. I definitely would've done both if I hadn't already written the first one before I received this and ended up writing myself into a corner lol. OR you could think of this way in the future in the Kitten Licks verse if you'd like! But thank you for the request, I absolutely love writing about Eddie and cats

Words: 1k

Coming home to Eddie was always your favorite part of the day. It didn’t matter where you were coming from: work, the store, spending time with friends. Just knowing you’d open the door and those crazy curls and beautiful smile would be waiting for you was enough to give you butterflies every time. 

Even tonight when girl’s night ended unexpectedly early because Robin was feeling sick, you found yourself grinning the closer you got to home. Grabbing the first parking space you see in front of your apartment building, you get out of the car and walk over to your door. It’s unlocked since Eddie is home, but you don’t see him when you step inside. Frowning, you peer into the kitchen but he isn’t there either. You’re about to call his name when you hear his voice coming from your bedroom down the hall.

“I can’t get over how pretty you are.”

Raising an eyebrow, you begin to walk down the hallway.

“Aw, you like that? That feel good?”

You cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the wall right next to your bedroom door.

“God, your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Okay,” you say as you push yourself off the wall. “You better be talking to Sabbath.”

You step into the entryway of your bedroom, and see the little black kitten curled up on your boyfriend’s bare chest. Her little black nose is sniffing the air right above his face as if she’s trying to smell out what he’s saying to her. Eddie shoots you a grin while his finger scratches Sabbath’s chin. 

“Hey babe,” Eddie says. “What’re you doing home so early?”

Ozzy is lying on a pile of dirty laundry in the corner, watching the two on the bed with a glare. The older black cat does not look happy that the kitten is getting all of the attention, even though he always gets more than his fair share. Ozzy jumps down from the clothes and makes his way over to you. He rubs up against your legs and meows at you for affection. You lean down and pick up your little boy, cradling him to your chest. Purring in contentment, he nuzzles his head against your neck.

“You’re so lucky you were talking to the cat,” you say to Eddie. “I would’ve kicked your ass if you were talking to another girl like that. In our bed. While I was out.”

Eddie pouts, still petting the kitten. Sabbath lets her eyes slip closed as she enjoys the sensation. You don’t blame her; you do the same thing when Eddie’s hands are on you. 

“I would never,” Eddie says. “There are only two girls in my life and you’re both in this room.” 

“Should I be jealous that I’m not the one laying on your naked chest?” you ask as Ozzy rubs his face against your cheek.

“We can fix that,” Eddie says with a smirk. 

Still holding your needy older cat in your arms, you walk over and climb onto the bed. Ozzy doesn’t seem to be thrilled to be close to his baby sister, while Sabbath looks over at him with wide green eyes, always interested in what the bigger cat is doing. 

“Robin got sick,” you tell Eddie, answering the original question he asked you. “So, we called it a night.”

“I’m sorry she’s sick but I’m happy to have you home with me.” Eddie opens his arm for you, and you cuddle up to his side. Ozzy decides you’ve forsaken him for Eddie, so he hops off your lap and curls up at the foot of the bed. 

You press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and Sabbath stands up, stretching her tiny body out on his chest.

“How’s my sweet girl?” you ask, reaching over and running your hand along the length of her soft onyx fur. She begins to knead on Eddie’s chest, and he winces as her sharp baby claws prick at his skin.

“Hey, hey, watch it,” he says. You tap lightly on her front paws, and she stops, leaning down to lick the pad of your finger. A sigh of contentment comes from Eddie as Sabbath settles, closer to his shoulder this time. Her soft purrs make the two of you smile at one another. “Got all my favorites right here on the bed with me.”

As if knowing what Eddie said and deciding he doesn’t want to be a part of it, Ozzy gets up and jumps off the bed, sauntering out of your bedroom. 

“Fine, be an asshole,” Eddie says to him. “I’ll just stay here with my two favorite girls.”

“As long as I’m number one,” you say. Sabbath lets out a soft mewl that has both of you laughing.

“Sorry, my little black Sabbath,” Eddie says. “Your mama is my number one.” 

She releases a tiny sigh and lowers her head to her paws, letting her big green eyes close. 

“Looks like we have two jealous cats,” you say.

“Pretty sure they get it from you,” Eddie says with a playful smile. “Coming in here and thinking I’m talking to another woman.”

“And you were,” you say, eyes sliding to Sabbath. Eddie reaches over and takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles. “Can you blame me, though? I’ve got the best boyfriend in the world. I gotta stay on my toes so no one steals him from me.”

“I assure you, that’s impossible,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your hair. 

“Even a girl as cute as Sabbath?”

“No one is cuter than you, baby.”

[offbrand-deltatraveler]

Tbh I get that all the episodes of this arc being extremely rushed and episodic and awkwardly cutting off instead of having proper endings is just part of the YouTube Shorts aesthetic, but it really doesn’t work for an episode as important as today’s that was a video and not a Short. And arguably never worked for any more serious story-important episodes tbh

(Spoilers for pretty much everything and just a lotta general negativity ahead)

Like things like the explanation of the lore and the countdown could be done in Shorts because they were clearly made with the fact that they were going to be Shorts in mind, but when things finally started to pick up it felt less like Shorts and more that they were only showing us little bits and pieces of a much bigger story that we’ll never get to see and that really messes with the immersion

“But the world doesn’t exist outside of when Chikn wants it to. The Shorts are all there is to see. That’s the point” the point is stupid

And that doesn’t even work because if the world can only exist when Chikn wants it to then everyone should be dead. How did any episode or even any moment without Chikn in it ever exist if that’s the case? How are the characters shown to have done things off-screen multiple times?

Also furthermore like. Everything was just so rushed???

Like one minute Chee is getting upset and ends up punching Chikn so hard it knocks him out (Not to mention she didn’t even punch him in the face and just kinda awkwardly pushed him. Would’ve been cool if she scratched him being a cat and all but the devs didn’t wanna go for that for some reason), but in the next scene she’s smiling like nothing was ever wrong to begin with, and somehow manages to trigger a flashback without even saying anything?

Also the devs teased a lotta puppet imagery with Chikn that they can’t decide whether or not they actually want because there was that whole thing about how while the chaos is caused by Chikn, he still feels like a part of it rather than the cause of it (“Sometimes I feel like I’m just… A puppet on a stage”), which is presumably because of his chaotic powers running wild and trying to take control of him, but in this episode that apparently was completely retconned in favor of Chikn himself feeling like he has to destroy the world. Which I can also see as well with how Bezel keeps egging him on but 1. They didn’t have to replace one with the other. It’d arguably be more interesting if both were true at once (Chikn feeling like he has to fulfill his destiny and destroy everything made it easier for his powers to get the better of him), and 2. Bezel never said anything to him that would actually make this work. He didn’t even know about his destiny until his powers started doing their thing because Bezel explicitly refused to tell him. Where did these feelings of having to fulfill his destiny even come from? How does he even know there’s a prophecy instead of thinking that he just happens to have weird powers?

Or maybe he did. Maybe all that stuff did happen and does have an explanation and we just won’t see it because they don’t show us the full story

And also speaking of Bezel what happened to “Everything must be cute. Everything must be nice”? If Chikn is so convinced that he must follow his destiny of destroying the world what was up with that part where he explicitly stated that he doesn’t want the world destroyed?

(Also also speaking of Bezel, the reveal of him being the doomsday clock was cool and really clever but like. If he’s not the embodiment of time why didn’t Iscream & Fwench Fwy literally just kill him?)

“Well maybe his powers did what power usually does and began to corrupt him” They should’ve said that. As the viewers, AKA the people who are not writing the story, it is not our job to fill up plotholes

And also that still goes for the “Puppet on a stage being controlled by the chaos inside him” angle while today’s episode goes for the “Bezel gaslit Chikn into thinking his destiny is inescapable” angle

And also furthermore if he’s convinced he has to destroy everything why didn’t he eat her? Why didn’t he ever try to hurt Chee or show that he was going to (And yes, I do mean show. Chikn tells her over and over again that his destiny makes him dangerous for Chee to be around, but she is never shown to be in any real danger)? Maybe instead he could’ve started trying to do that thing he did in one of the earliest episodes where he pulled out her pin and she just died. Maybe seeing her like that could remind him of that time and that could’ve been the thing that triggered the flashback

Not to mention the whole reason this happened in the first place was because Chee stopped hanging out with him and that made him feel lonely and the emptiness and boredom he felt allowed him to become aware of his powers and how they affect people. Why was that never brought up throughout like any part of this whole thing? “We’re all here for you” He doesn’t want a “We’re All” he wants you specifically. That’s why he’s doing all this. That was the whole significance of Chee going to talk to him

And speaking of how his powers did that thing to Chee, quick sidenote to mention how we never see the result of that. We never see what exactly happened with Chee that stressed him out so much or how Cofi and Slushi reacted to it and that wouldn’t been such an interesting thing to show. And no this is not because of an episode limit they literally have 300 of them

And speaking of Slushi, why do we never see her reaction to the fact that all of this was Chikn’s fault? Between Chee randomly walking out on their hangout and Chikn’s powers rubbing off on Sodi she has to have noticed

And the line delivery in this episode was shit because we know Chikn Nuggit characters can sound genuinely emotional when they need to

tl;dr: The “Silly little relatable Shorts made by a small group of people who just wanna have fun” aesthetic doesn’t work well when applied to Shorts that aren’t silly or fun. Trying to uphold this vibe has done infinitely more to hurt the story than to help it

[happilychaengs]

Killing Me Good

a/n: after like 3 weeks, i have found the inspiration to write. wow fun. this is more experimental writing and i don't know if this is honestly any good but if it is, it'd be cool to know

word count: 1,417 

park jihyo x gender neutral reader

angst

if you can: like, reblog, send asks, all that stuff idk

Nervousness bubbled inside you.

When your girlfriend - her hair drenched in the rain - brushed past you without a single word, not even a noise, and headed straight into her room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you as you hesitantly knocked on the door.

"Jihyo? Are you okay?"

Silence.

You knock again. "Jihyo?"

You hear rustling behind the door.

You go to knock again, "Ji-"

"What do you want?" Her voice is laced with venom, her eyes glaring at you.

"What's wrong?"

Jihyo grips the side of the wall, her knuckles turning a pale shade. Water begins to drip down her wet hair, her biting her lips tight as she brushed past you again, quickly walking to the front door.

You hear the door slam from beside you as your heart drops. She's doing it again. Pushing you away. And even though you were no stranger to it, it hurts even more each time.

"Where have you been, Jihyo?"

Her tone is dry as she sighs, dropping her shoulders, "Out."

"Out where?"

"I don't know? Some bar." She sits beside you on the couch, leaning into it as she rubbed her temples with her hands, "Does it matter?"

"Yes, Jihyo! It does because I'm worried about you!" You glance towards the clock on the wall, "It's 4 in the morning!"

Your eyes meet hers, them being filled with a deep ocean of shame and guilt, "And I... I don't need you to worry about me, I'm fine!" And the more you hear her voice, the more you can hear her drunken stupor. "I don't need you bothering me every time I come home!"

"Is... is that how you really see me?" You let out a wry, pain-filled chuckle, "A bother?"

As you began to stand up, you feel her grip on your hand, "Wait... I didn't mean that... You know that."

You shook her hand off easily, "Drunk words are sober thoughts, Jihyo."

You step out of your front door, feeling the rain pour against you, your shirt beginning to stick against your body. You see Jihyo and her slicked back hair walking down the street, her fists clenched.

Your dishevelled hair became glossy as your face felt the cold and wet rain pour against it; your eyes glazed in a layer of tears. "I don't deserve this, Jihyo! I don't deserve the shit you put me through and still I'm here! So can you just tell me what's wrong for once instead of shattering my heart?" Your voice died down into a hushed whisper against the feverent rain hitting the pavement. "Please?"

Jihyo bites her lips and turns around, the rainfall masking her bittersweet tears. Her smile is melancholic, her fists clenched tightly much like her teeth. She can see the feelings swimming around in those beautiful eyes of yours. It's the look of regret, that she knows all too well, and just a smidge of hopefulness that she doesn't understand why. Why of all people do you choose her?

She was the person who had the most chances to hurt you and she has taken every. Single. One. "Why...? Why... are you still here, Y/N? Why do you put up with me? Why do you stick around knowing I'll hurt you again over and over?"

"Jihyo... what the fuck is this?" Your voice is weak and tired. It's the way you sigh as you show her your phone capturing the night before. She's kissing someone.

And that someone isn't you.

"Y/N... I can explai-"

"I'm sure you can but will any of it make me feel better about this? This is the second time, Jihyo. And I'm... I'm not sure if I can do this anymore. I don't know if I'm stupid for staying and... I don't even know if you love me anymore"

"You don't mean that..."

"Then... please change my mind..."

"Is it not obvious? I love you! That's why I put up with it all!" Your throat begins to choke on your own emotions, the tears running freely down your cheeks.

And she knows.

Because she loves you too.

But this is the only love she knows. The love that hurts. The love that rips out your heart and leaves you alone. The love that hurts you regardless of what you might feel. The love that pushes people away.

The love that kills you.

"Fuck off, Jihyo! Why do you keep doing this to me? You say you'll do better! You say you'll change! But you can't even make it to... to our fucking anniversary?" Your voice is strained from all the tears you've shed as you breathe heavily over the phone.

"We had a schedule today, I swear I'll make it up to you! I'm so sor-"

"How do you make up for this? You promised me over and over that today was the most special day to you and... yet you can't even find the time? Fuck you."

The call ends.

"Let's..." her heart feels heavy, her throat beginning to feel dry. Her fists clenched together as she avoided your gaze, "Let's break up, Y/N."

"What? Ji-" she couldn't bear to hear this.

And so she doesn't let you speak.

"I don't... love you." Lie 1.

"You can look now!" You take off your blindfold as your ears gets blasted by airhorns and poppers, a big banner held up by your girlfriend's band members.

"Ji, what is this?"

"It's your birthday today, right?" She beams as she pulls out a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind her, "You never told me but... I have my ways."

"What? You shouldn't have... It's really not that impor-"

"And to not celebrate my one and only's special day? I'm never doing that."

"I never have." Lie 2.

"Look at us here!" You laugh loudly as your head rests atop Jihyo's shoulders, you pointing to the page inside of the photobook. "Wasn't this your first rollercoaster?" She jests.

"Well, yeah... but look at your face! You look more terrified than me!"

"Okay... to be fair, the drop was like two hundred feet!"

You nudge her shoulder as you laugh even louder, her rolling her eyes playfully at you, "No? It was like fifty feet!"

Jihyo flips the next page of your photobook as you smile, her whispering as she rests her head on yours, "We can agree to disagree on that."

"You know I'm right though."

"And deep inside, even if you don't believe it now... I know you don't love me either." Lie 3.

"So... let's not do this anymore." But what she really wants to say is, You don't have to put up with me anymore.

"Ji... what is this?" Your lips turned into a tight smile as you glanced all around your shared home. Lights dangled across the roof, the fragrance of roses throughout the rooms.

"I said I'd make it up to you. This is for everything. All the important days I missed with you. All the stupid things I did." She stretches out her hand for you to take, which you do gladly, as she brings you along to the living room. The walls are lined with photos, memorabilia, and anything and everything the two of you shared in your time together.

Her eyes pool with tears as she stares at you, awestruck at the love and memories surrounding you, "I love you so much, Y/N."

And the dread on your face, the humility, the sorrow. It's insurmountable.

Your mouth is agape but nothing comes to life. Your words are lost in the rain as you stared at her with your bloodshot eyes. Your eyes are glassy as your lips purse tightly together, naturally to stop a cry from coming out as she stares at you.

And the moment she meets your gaze is the moment it all hits her.

She's lost you.

Truly lost you. And this wasn't like any stupid mistake she made before. This was the end.

There was no more hope in your eyes. There was no more love. There's nothing but the dark and looming shade of regret.

It's the regret of choosing her- loving her. It's the regret of putting up with all the stupid shit she did. It's the regret that you didn't leave sooner. It's the regret of ever giving her more chances.

And her regret was to not love you how she should've because now this love was killing her instead.

[cupcakeslushie]

@beeisblue Huginn and Muninn try to spoil Three when they can in their own pathetically middle of the road—thanks for trying way. But more often than not, they’re on babysitting duty to make sure Three doesn’t blow up his own lab—which can be pretty dangerous so they’d much rather keep their distance, but they do feel bad about not doing more to help. They’ll make a little appearance along with Shelldon in Donnie’s interlude, which is coming up next, after we conclude Mikey’s rescue arc!

That is definitely not sanctioned, but yes—Draxum is just too exhausted with Three’s antics at this point. The child used to be at least respectful out of fear, but it seems like ever since a few years back when Three hit some kind of mental, pain threshold, Draxum has had a hard time controlling and understanding his thought process.

The boys do change things up by way of casual clothes around the lair, just wearing whatever’s comfortable—pretty close to the show with Mikey and Donnie probably wearing more sweaters and joggers and hoodies than say Leo or Raph. As for missions I might change my mind if I can come up with something else fun for them to wear, but as for now…most of them change pretty quickly to their movie look as soon as they each unlock their ninpo. I’ve put Leo in 2012!Leo’s white vision quest hoodie until his finally moves on to his black and blue ninpo gear just because he’ll struggle with it the most so he’s kind of the only one who takes a while to switch over to his finale look. But I might throw them in something extra if I change my mind!

@artoflittleowlbird Just a little song I made up! 😅 I really struggled with whether I wanted a real song or if I wanted to just make something from scratch. It’ll play a role later on so I hope I didn’t make it too weird sounding! I wanted it to have a non-rhyming feel like it’s something old which Splinter might’ve sung them.

Leo does meet Hueso eventually. He’s super polite when Raph, Mikey, and April first bring him to Run of the Mill, but there’s something so tired in his expression that Hueso can’t put his phalanges on. It makes the man wanna feed him, wrap him in a blanket and plop him on a comfy sofa where he can’t get hurt.

@sskurwysyn I’m sorry I’m so bad at this part. All the names I’m thinking of sound so stupid 🫣 If anyone else has one they’d like to suggest I’m all ears 🤣. And Mikey swapped out his nunchucks once or twice, but would always go back to them as soon as he could. I do like the idea of him wielding a comically huge kanabo like it’s nothing. Little man does not skip arm day.

@little-banjo-frog Leo is a little too high up in the ranking for them to be close friends, but he has gone on missions with her as part of her training. She respects him much like she does Foot Lieutenant and Brute in the show, but once she really meets Raph, Mikey, and April and hears their story and connects the dots of their missing brother being Leo, her conscience takes over and she can’t help but see how screwed up Leo is from what Shredder’s done to him. BUT THAT’S OKAY—cause you can’t get any cooler than being a double agent!! She just needs to find the perfect time to get Leo to meet his brothers, and they can both leave the foot clan behind! Plus once she’d started sneaking out of the compound at night to play vigilante with Raph, she was done for—way too much fun! Good thing she’s so good at being quiet…be a shame if she were followed…..

Aside from accidentally blowing up a Chee-Z ball factory in one of his first times out, Donnie’s gotten away with: taking apart half the tech in the lair and leaving the parts strewn all over for someone to trip on, snapping at his brothers and saying things even he knew at the time he’d regret saying, being an absolute shit to April when he first met her, testing a stimulant on himself and scaring the bejesus out of everyone when he had a tiny case of cardiac arrest…And probably the most glaringly obvious time Splinter was mad at him, but held his tongue—when Donnie needed the wiring in the projector tv and tore the whole thing apart so they were all left without any entertainment for two days while he built them a new one from scratch. Yes, they got something much nicer out of it, but he could’ve at least warned them! Raph thought Splinter’s fur was gonna be dyed perma-red from how much he looked like a tea kettle about to explode.

Raph has to get a handle on Savage Raph pretty soon after Leo and Mikey get taken, just out of necessity, but he doesn’t get rid of the fear of being alone completely. Meeting April helps even more, but once they’re all back together it does become a bigger struggle for him to not panic when they leave his eye-line. It’s not even something that registers as an issue at first cause as long as one of them is with him, he can stay pretty calm, but eventually they do all have to split up for some reason or other, and he goes full Savage Raph for the first time in YEARS. It’s only top-side though, he’s fine being alone in the Hidden City and the sewers. April is always their best bet for calming him down though. They make a joke out of it later like maybe next time she should say something like “Sun’s going down big guy!” But it’s the simple fact that a part of Raph might be scared to lose his brothers again, but April has always been his biggest source of comfort and safety—she’s his big sister.

100% yes April and Raph can totally mind meld 🤣 i love it.

[hinaypod]

If you were ever wondering what Mari's weird Filipino nickname was in Hi Nay, it's this.

Mari's full name is Marilag Precious Datuin! Where does the Chichay come from?

Good question.

(Chichay is pronounced the Filipino way; CHEE-chai)

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

It’s really funny when you think of season 4 basically being a tragicomedy where two fruity disasters are engaged in a dance of who can miscommunicate the most. They both are actually on the same page with a desire to go crazy together and be a team but they assume the other boy is reading an entirely different book. Mike goes to Cali frazzled with a million chaotic thoughts, his confusion and flustered heart barely concealed by his Big Bird core outfit.

I have a girlfriend and I’m supposed to love her. Of course I love her, she’s my girlfriend! She’s El! She has superpowers! She’s changed my life! Yes, stick to the script! I can’t wait to meet her friends she’s been telling me about and also to meet Will 😍. Wait, why did I just get flustered? It’s just Will. My friend. Will Byers. WHO HAS APPARENTLY BEEN MAKING A PAINTING FOR A MYSTERIOUS GIRL?!? I wonder what that’s about. Actually I don’t wanna know. It’s fine. Oh my God, he got hot. Why did he get hot? Wait, don’t think that. That’s weird. He’s a boy. He’s Will. Act calm. Be normal. Uhhh. hi 😍 😍😍 Wait, why isn’t he showing me that? Does he hate me? Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?

Meanwhile Will, with no idea about Mike’s internal monologue, is extremely eager and happy to see his best friend again and is utterly confused why he is being so weird and not hugging him and why his outfit is so questionable. I guess he doesn’t care about anything I have to say anymore. I’m so stupid. Why did I make this painting and bring it to this airport like a loser? He doesn’t want to see it. Which is literally the opposite of the truth. And then things start happening too fast to process anything, and everyone’s talking fast, and El is flagrantly lying to Mike and it’s quite disturbing. Why would she do that? Friends don’t lie. This can’t end well.

And then at the roller rink Will is in tragic yearning mode while also keenly aware that a fire is brewing and wanting to put out the fire before it hurts both his sister and his best friend, both of whom he loves dearly. But Mike is oblivious to all of this while in his feelings about Will, paying absurdly close attention to Will “moping and rolling his eyes,” interpreting things in the wrong way. And then he shoots up like a gopher on adderall when Will tells him they need to talk about El because something is terribly wrong- which would be crystal clear if Mike wasn’t hyperfocused on Will’s every mood swing- and he refuses to believe it until it becomes undeniable, choosing instead to address what is clearly on his mind significantly more than his actual girlfriend on a theoretical date. And they have a high school musical coded fight in the middle of the building, entirely misunderstanding where the other boy is coming from, and it just leaves them more flustered, frustrated, and confused. But because they are incapable of personal space, it doesn’t make them drift apart physically. They stand side by side as El absolutely decks Angela to Will’s shellshocked sinking feeling of “This is my fault. I should have prevented this from happening,” and Mike’s feeling of horror and shock and, “Where did any of this come from? I just got here.”

And then later on El and Mike have their fight about him not being able to say I love you, which is confusing and full of gaslighting and contradictions and is super messy no matter how the cake is sliced, but Will is not there for any of this, so he has no reason to believe El and Mike are on the rocks. Because why would they be? He heard Mike say I love you to a room full of their friends a year ago. And Mike is clearly dealing with so many internal thoughts and conflicted feelings that he won’t share with the class- with the class being both Will and the audience- so post el’s arrest and post her “superhero” journey we have to watch Byler have these incredibly coded conversations that get increasingly more chaotic. Mike’s basically like, “Yeah bestie I’m not sure about this whole macaroni and cheese thing and I don’t know if me and El are really right for each other, you know? It was prolly like dumb luck or something, but you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Will, and I think we should work together as a team, as best friends, as lovers- wait, who said that? Anyway, what do you think, my totally platonic bestie?”

All this as [tender, emotional music] plays. And Will, even though it destroys him inside, is extraordinarily selfless, and is basically like, “I’m sure you and El will work things out and talk through whatever’s happening. You love each other. You are perfect for each other. And I will always be here to reassure you.” And Mike’s like, “That’s not how I envisioned this convo going. Are you sure?” And while holding back tears, Will’s like, “Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I be sure? Look at this painting I made you.” And Mike’s like “Wow 😍😍😍 did you make that for me?” And Will’s like, “Sure did! Actually El basically did. She commissioned it.” And Mike is like, “Oh. Okay. It’s still really beautiful tho. Which of course it is. Because you made it. But I… I’m confused. But I don’t fully understand why I’m confused. I’m glad El needs me! I think?”

Meanwhile, Byler literally wants the same things, they both deeply desire and love each other, but they don’t know how the other feels. And if they both paused for one second, were fully honest with each other, and stopped speaking in code, things would fall into place. And they could walk hand in hand, crazy together, into the apocalypse.

[silent-sanctum]

And I'm Here - Jotaro x Reader

Word count: 1.5k+

When the universe ends and time stands still for a moment, what happens then?

cw: Stone Ocean ending spoilers

The blinding light was the first guest to greet him when he woke.

The gentle lull of the waves, accompanied by the comforting cool of the ocean surrounding his ankles, was the next.

He wasn’t sure if it was from whiplash from the void of the dark to the tranquil scene of the light, but a couple seconds was needed for his mind to come back and for the last moments of his life to flash before his eyes.

The chaos of accelerated time. His team in a flustered mess around him. The priest responsible for all of this. The world of his stopped time. The knives directed at his daughter. His scream of terror. His desperation.

His death.

It was too sudden for his body to register the pain, though he felt it resonate in his soul. His failure to keep fighting the second it happened. A phantom whisper of his wounds continued to linger- the cut on his throat and the vertical scar that ran down the right of his face.

Reminders of his shortcomings of how he should have done something better. A few seconds more and he could have ended it then.

But-

He clenched his fist, his head hung low in shame and his teeth gritted in anger. You should’ve been better. So much for proving yourself.

What now? What should he do while the world continued crumble? Where would he even go from here?

Past the shade of his visor, nothing but the vastness and of the ocean awaited him here. No signs of his daughter nor her friends in sight. A punishment deserving of his neglect and wrong decisions. Figured. I don’t deserve to find my closure when I chose this for myself.

Just like that, his hands fell slack and welcomed the numbness growing from within.

Absent-minded with no purpose, he kept his head low and walked. And walked… And walked. He greeted the isolation and the quiet swoosh of the water like an old friend taunting at him for his mistakes.

He didn’t know how far he went but with one more step forward, he heard it.

“Love?”

His breath hitched, his body paralyzed in complete shock, but deep down in him, his chest caved in on itself. His hands turned to fists and he quivered. That voice. That sweet voice. There was no chance of it being- it couldn’t…

The water waded and the voice drew near. “Love please look at me.” Oh god. Please not like this. It was. He could recognize that voice from anywhere. And he couldn’t bear to look. Not after everything he’d done.

And just then, someone stood behind him. A comforting aura with an air of warmth that he didn’t deserve to feel. He wanted to run. Run like he did when he was much younger. To flee and spare the trouble. But when it came to this.. he couldn’t. So he stood there, unmoving.

“I know everything hurts…,” a shaky exhale. “Everything’s falling apart but I need you to face me so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

Fractures continued to crack in his solitary heart, every syllable of those words desperate and filled with familiarity. He didn’t want to- but… he never won when it came to moments like this.

He turned ever so slowly, his head still hung low with the brim of his hat aiding in his cover and his body rigid with uncertainty.

He didn’t say anything. Nor did the person. And he waited. For a yell, a slap to the face, words of blame, anything.

He didn’t know what hurt more. The anger that never came but should have, or the complete gentleness of a smaller pair of hands grasping his, thumb circling the warmth of his skin as a meek gesture of comfort.

What did he do to deserve this?

“Does it still hurt?” A hand came to cup his cheek and he flinched. Please leave. But it didn’t. He felt its soft palm caress his face, and with no more will to fight back, gently tilted his head to look.

And there you were.

In all the beauty that made you who you were. One that captivated the likes of him beyond his comprehension. His heart throbbed at the sight of your tearful eyes, the slight tint to your cheeks, and the quiver of your lips. He looked away, unable to hold your gaze.

Never in his life has been this hard in suppressing back his emotions, not when his source of happiness stood before a broken man who failed his family and the universe. He could feel them swelling in his eyes as your fingers traced his scar with featherlight ease.

I can’t- “What are you doing?” He jerked his head away from your touch, doing his best to keep his voice stable as one last attempt in putting up a brave façade. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you should?” Your voice was even despite the subtle wobble in your speech with not a trace of malice in it.  “I wouldn’t know where else to go other than here. With you.”

Why? “Why is the world so cruel?” He mumbled under his breath, one that you caught just as you always did then. “Why does it allow me to have this only to rip it away from me at the last second?”

You didn’t say anything. He hated being vulnerable like this but when nothing else exists for him to divert himself into, what else was there to do? He turned his head away, sparing you the sight of him starting to break.

“I shouldn’t- Why… Why am I feeling like this…”

“Because you’ve loved.” He glanced at you, breath stilling at the gentleness of your voice. “You loved and cared for everyone you held dear and did what you could to show that. And you’re hurt because it feels like the world doesn’t return that to you.”

“Am I right?”  

As much as he wanted to deny, he knew it was true. Without realizing, his lips tightened trying to stop them from trembling but he couldn’t prevent the single tear that shed from his scarred eye. His breaths started to shake but still… he tried to keep himself together.

Your hand returned to cup his cheek, once again nudging him to look at you. You’ve gazed at him with shining eyes and an understanding smile, your cheeks stained with fresh tears. “You’re hurting because you blame yourself for not being enough for them. For us.”

His breath hitched as he took one second to return your gaze, only to shut them before any more tears start to drop. You were always perceptive. Always knew him deep down despite the many walls he put up to hide it.

He couldn’t say anything but overlap his hands on yours that rested on his cheek, nuzzling your palm as a silent response, allowing another tear to fall.

You stood on your toes and gently directed him to lean down for you to press a soft kiss on his lips. At your touch, he trembled and reciprocated. As if it’s second nature, his hands came to hold your waist, keeping you close to him as if you’d disappear once he lets go.

With hesitancy you pulled back, leaning your forehead against his. For a brief moment, you both stood in silence, relishing in each other’s presence, allowing all his unspoken grief and regrets out through his uneven breaths.

Through your own tears, you let out a watery giggle as you thumbed the tears away from his eyes. “I know it’s hard to believe after what you’ve been through, but do know that there were people who were grateful for your existence. Our friends who went with us in our journeys, your family who never stopped caring for you, your daughter who looked up to you and waited for you all her life…”

You stifled a sob of your own. “Your wife who continued to love her husband unconditionally even after death.”

Right then and there, the walls that held firm for years shattered and he broke into tears.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face on your shoulders, his body shaking from the force of his strangled sobs. You huffed and encircled your arms around him. “You’ve done more than enough love.”

You held him for as long as he needed. In the dawn of a new life, he whispered a quiet confession. “I… I want to go home.”

“And we will,” you said in return, caressing his cheeks. “All you have to do is close your eyes and when you wake, we’ll be there waiting for you.”

He shook his head. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.” You hushed him with another kiss, keeping your forehead against his. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You both fell to your knees as the universe began to crumble, ready to start anew. And you whispered one last sentence…

“You’ve done well love. You may rest now.”

[denimbex1986]

'As a director, Benny Safdie makes sleazy movies about hustlers and gamblers and criminals and strivers. Films that teem with violence and drugs, while a pulsating anxiety yanks you through a gritty underbelly of a New York you thought no longer existed.

But today? We’re about as far from that seediness as you can get. On his suggestion, we meet up at the Upper West Side deli institution Barney Greengrass. The tree-lined blocks around here are stately and idyllic, tucked between Central Park and the Hudson River. Safdie, 37, is dressed in full dadcore: glasses, striped tee, jeans, Tevas. (Tevas!) He has the personality to match, with a warmth and gregariousness that initially catch you way off guard. This is the guy responsible for Uncut Gems?

“My go-to meal here was pastrami, eggs, and Mun-chee cheese. But Mun-chee cheese doesn't exist anymore,” Safdie laments. “Nobody bought it.” He opts for a sesame bagel with butter instead.

This neighborhood is his home turf, and his favorite place in the world. He spent his childhood ping-ponging between an unstable environment with his father in Queens, then comfortable normalcy with his mother and stepdad on the Upper West Side.

As a younger man, he did a brief stint living downtown. “I looked out, I'm like, There's no trees. I didn't realize how important that is to my sanity,” he remembers. Now he and his wife, Ava, are raising their two boys, Cosmo, 7, and Murray, 4, up here.

Safdie made his name in tandem with his older brother Josh, the two perpetually mentioned in the same breath for their idiosyncratic, independent films reminiscent of the heyday of New Hollywood. Daddy Long Legs (2009) was mined from their own misadventures with an irresponsible father. (Safdie says he tends to have a more critical view of their upbringing than Josh and, though he still talks to their dad, “it can be strained.”) Good Time (2017), with Robert Pattinson as a small-time criminal and Benny as his mentally disabled brother, raised their profile.

And then came 2019’s Uncut Gems, the heart-pounding thriller starring Adam Sandler as a diamond-dealing gambling addict, which planted the Safide brothers firmly at the center of the culture. The success that followed changed everything.

“That was the first time where I had a vision beyond four feet in front of me,” Safdie says.

What does that vision look like? For Safdie, it means pursuing an increasingly successful acting career. He’s branched out on his own, diverging from the brother he’s been working with his entire life. Many actors go on to become directors; it’s much rarer for the opposite to happen. Even the few who do make the jump—say, John Huston—end up being remembered more for their first career.

Safdie, though, possesses a chameleonic talent, so much so that every role of his feels like a genuine surprise. Perhaps you saw him pop up in Paul Thomas Anderson’s ‘70s Valley vibefest Licorice Pizza as Joel Wachs, a closeted councilman. Or in Claire Denis’s Stars at Noon as an eerily nefarious CIA man (character’s name: CIA Man). Or as a Jedi in Obi-Wan Kenobi. Or, earlier this year, in—wait a second—the film adaptation of Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, Judy Blume’s seminal tome about a preteen girl coming of age.

Safdie’s downtown cred, the A24-ness of it all, maybe didn’t make him the most natural casting choice for Margaret’s dad Herb on paper. “It always delights me when people find out he's in the movie. Just their total shock,” the film’s director, Kelly Fremon Craig told me.

Rachel McAdams, who plays Margaret’s mom, told me in an email that she first met Safdie at a screening he hosted for Uncut Gems. “He was so lovely and effusive with such a gentle, open energy about him,” she said. “I remember my brain not quite being able to compute that guy with the same guy who just put me through one of the most stressful movie-watching experiences of my life.”

Safdie sees acting as a way to delve into certain aspects of himself that he hasn’t had an outlet for otherwise. Playing a dad, for instance. “That's a big part of my personality that I haven't yet had the chance to explore in my own work,” he says. His experience as a director also makes him considerably less neurotic about his own performances. Watching himself in the editing room? Having a big line in a scene cut? No problem—he’s been on the other side, and he gets it.

Now, Safdie has his biggest role yet, a meaty part in Oppenheimer, Christopher Nolan’s wildly anticipated summer blockbuster about the father of the atomic bomb. Safdie plays Edward Teller, opposite Cillian Murphy’s J. Robert Oppenheimer. Teller was a controversial figure, a Hungarian theoretical physicist who would go on to testify against Oppenheimer in later years.

The cast of Oppenheimer is comically stacked: Robert Downey Jr., Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, Rami Malek, to name a few. Nolan was looking for someone fresh and unexpected to play Teller. He had initially seen Safdie in Good Time and then Licorice Pizza. “I called Paul [Thomas Anderson] and I asked about Benny, and he gave him the strongest possible endorsement and pointed out that he's an incredible actor, but also just a wonderful guy,” Nolan told me.

There was also a bit of fate sprinkled in. Safdie had studied physics at Boston University—almost became a physicist, in fact, before he swerved off into filmmaking. Oppenheimer would allow him to combine his two passions, to dive into yet another deep interest that had otherwise not merged with his film career. It would also require him to wear layers of makeup, to have his hair straightened every day until he could hear it sizzle, and to do accent work for the first time. Safdie put off sharing his speech progress with Nolan for as long he could, until he couldn’t. Finally, he sent the director a voice memo of himself describing his breakfast in a thick Hungarian accent.

“When he sent me that recording, I listened to it about a thousand times and very much enjoyed it,” Nolan said.

Teller could have been written as a straight antagonist to Oppenheimer, but instead Nolan used him to inject rare moments of levity throughout the film. (There is one memorable scene in which Safdie slathers sunscreen all over his face before the first nuclear bomb test.) “For the tragedy of that relationship to have resonance, you have to have seen a warmth there and something between them that's more of a brotherly relationship,” Nolan said. “And I felt that Benny could really bring that to the role and give it that warmth.”

“[He’s] such a kind and gentle fella,” Cillian Murphy told me of Safdie. Much has been made of how intense the film is—take a look at any number of harrowing promotional shots of Murphy in character looking like the most haunted man of all time. In between takes, he said it always seemed as if he ended up talking to Safdie.

“You keep the atmosphere light and joke around because I feel you need to be in a relaxed state to act. Your heart rate needs to be low, your cortisol levels need to be low,” Murphy said. “And that's why I think I probably gravitated towards Benny.”

Safdie is obsessed with realism. It checks out, considering how so many characters in his movies were just ordinary people plucked off the street. That sensibility has followed him into his performances.

Eating, for instance. It drives him nuts when people don’t eat on camera. “I hate it when people don't eat,” he says, tearing into his bagel. “It destroys me.” When he filmed a dinner scene in Licorice Pizza, he made sure to eat in every take. “I don't know how many tiramisus I ate, but it must have been 30,” he says. Same thing happened in The Curse, his secretive upcoming Showtime series with Nathan Fielder and Emma Stone about a couple producing an HGTV show: “Sixty chips in one take, and we must have had nine takes…”

“It wasn't just the nine bags of chips,” Fielder told me in an email. “Any scene that involved food, everyone would pace themselves on the first take.… But Benny for some reason would keep shoving food in his mouth the entire scene ’cause he thought it would be funnier. And he was right. There was one scene where he ate an entire Chinese buffet plate every single take for 15 takes and he would always match the exact same volume of food. You'd think any sane person would eat a couple less popcorn shrimp each time as the takes went on. But he wouldn't.”

And then there’s the crying. Safdie tends to cry when he gets into character—thinking of all the things he might be feeling if he were in that person’s shoes. When Adam Sandler, in Uncut Gems, had to weep, dejected, that he was “so sad and so fucked up,” it was Safdie who went into his trailer to pump him up.

“In a weird way, there's nothing better than being able to do that in front of people because it's usually a very private moment that you're ashamed of and you don't want to show anybody. But to actually get the opportunity to show people what it's like when you're really sad,” Safdie recalls saying. “And then I started crying. He goes, ‘You got to stop. Can you take it easy?’”

Before Uncut Gems, even with a handful of celebrated movies under his belt, a film career didn’t feel truly viable. At the back of his mind, he still thought he might have to go back to school and actually become a physicist. His wife was the primary breadwinner, and so when he edited Good Time, he’d set his son Cosmo in bed with a bunch of pillows surrounding him so he wouldn’t roll over, turn on the baby monitor, and work while he slept.

Last year, it was announced that Sandler would be working on a new movie with Elara Pictures, the Safdie brothers’ production company. The project would be set in the world of sports memorabilia collectors, with Megan Thee Stallion also reported to star.

Shortly after, news broke that Benny would not be directing the Sandler movie with Josh. “Elara is still there. We work on a lot of documentaries and there's just a constant flow of ideas,” Safdie says. “It just felt like, okay, there's things that I want to explore that don't necessarily align right now with Josh. So it's a divide and conquer mentality. He wants to tell this story, he can go and do that. I'm going to go and do a couple of other things. It seems like a natural progression for how things have happened.”

Mainly, he had gone away to act on several projects and work on The Curse. By the time he returned, Josh and their longtime third collaborator Ronald Bronstein, were already deep into working on the new Sandler movie. “It was just a matter of, ‘This works for me right now and this is what I've got to do,’” Safdie explains.

Elara also had a shakeup earlier this year. One of its founding producers, Sebastian Bear-McClard, was accused of sexual misconduct by multiple women. A spokesperson for the Safdies had previously said they fired him upon becoming aware of the behavior in July 2022. “It’s disgusting, and when you find out something about somebody that you didn't realize, you just have to be much more careful,” Safdie says when I ask him about the incident. “It's a lot, and it's not something that you want to have happen to anybody. And when you find it out, the one thing that you can do is really just take control.”

When we speak, Safdie is just finishing up final sound editing on The Curse. The show originated through his friendship with Fielder. Safdie had been a longtime Nathan for You enthusiast, and had even written a Cinema Scope article about his love for the show. Fielder was similarly a fan of Safdie’s. “In those initial hangouts it was clear we were on a similar wavelength,” Fielder said.“We both think a lot about tone and realism. We weren't even intending to collaborate on a project actually, it just sort of happened organically the second time we hung out.”

“We came up with the idea for The Curse and we're like, ‘This is so stupid, but it's really funny,’” Safdie explains. They kept texting and texting about it, until the bit became real.

In The Curse, Fielder and Emma Stone play a couple, while Safdie is a long-haired, turquoise jewelry-wearing HGTV producer. “They live in an area called Española, which is close to Santa Fe. And that's where they're building their new homes. They have a very different way of gentrifying the community. They want to do it ethically, and they want to do it in a way that doesn't hurt anybody. So they want to make a show about that. And you follow their lives as they're doing it,” Safdie explains. “It started out as a 30-minute comedy and became an hour-long comedy-drama.”

So he filmed Oppenheimer in the New Mexico desert and then returned to New Mexico to film The Curse for several more months. While he emerged without any turquoise jewelry, he did leave the set having purchased a ton of props from production. “I do have an insane amount of Talavera dishware, which I love. I love it so much. It brings me so much joy to look down and see the bright colors,” he says.

This enthusiasm and attention to detail saturates everything. Directing, acting, physics—they’re all connected.

“All of it is just trying to understand what this thing is that we're going through,” Safdie says. “How in the world is the universe expanding and here I am, sitting here. What's 14 billion years ago? What's time? How much time is left?”'