#Can we pretend i know how to draw backgrounds

[sleepw-me]

BF HEADCANONS HQ ⊹ ₊ ˚ 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡

Haikyuu version SFW

t.kageyama⸝⸝ ♡ Definitely winter is his favorite season, when you are his girlfriend he will definitely want to do some winter activities with you, such as walking around the city with a nice composition of Christmas lights. building a snowman in his yard. Throwing snowballs at each other and taking you to a nice cafe for hot chocolate.

k.tsukishima⸝⸝ ♡ We all know by now that Tsuki likes music, I'm sure he would share his headphones with you so you could listen to music together at school. When you're at his place, you just spend time with him, while he's doing his homework and you're hugging his dinosaur-shaped stuffed animal, and there's some music playing in the background. He made a playlist for you, but at first he was embarrassed to show it to you, there were songs he associated with you.

t.yamaguchi⸝⸝ ♡ During the lesson, when he gets tired of listening to the teacher, he will start drawing cute hearts and flowers in the corners of your notebook with colored pens, and if you let him, he will draw a whole meadow on your hand. You can give him your shoes to decorate them nicely with colorful flowers and drawings.

d.sawamura⸝⸝ ♡ He probably didn't know what princess treatment was before, he was just well brought up and everything he does comes easily to him, he thinks that's how you should treat your ladies. When your shoe is untied, he kneels in front of you and ties it for you. He carries your shopping, your handbags too, but not in his hand, as if he was ashamed that someone would see him with your women's handbag, he literally throws it on his shoulder and walks with it just like you would.

a.azumane⸝⸝ ♡ He has long hair, so he always has a rubber band on his wrist, so if you need it, he will lend it to you and even tie your hair for you.

s.hinata⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet little orange bun remembers the smallest details about you, even if sometimes you feel like he's not listening anymore and you stop talking, he immediately encourages you to continue. He remembers every detail, your favorite number, your favorite and hated color, the name of your first cat and he will even remember the names of your entire family if you mentioned them.

k.kozume⸝⸝ ♡ He found the perfect person to cuddle with, it's you!. Expect that if you have a large sweatshirt, he will stick his head under it and play games. When he plays on the computer, he will invite you to sit on his lap and either watch him play or teach you how to play one of his favorite games, it's funny when she controls the mouse and you control the keyboard, you will definitely hear him chuckle when something goes wrong he will succeed but he is very patient.

t.kuroo⸝⸝ ♡ Sometimes you meet at his place to study for chemistry, then he wears his black glasses that make him look so good. If you don't understand a topic, he will teach you and if you answer correctly, he will give you a juicy kiss. If you need a break, he will bring you something sweet.

r.suna⸝⸝ ♡ He will definitely take a lot of photos of you to keep the memories. You will be his private model, he definitely has one of your photos where you are drooling on the pillow while still sleeping on his wallpaper. On his phone you will find the stupidest photos, for example your 0.5x photo. Until the prettiest ones, the ones where you smile so beautifully at him.

a.miya⸝⸝ ♡ Listen, I imagine Atsumu calling you very early in the morning to go to the beach with him. He will definitely take a few photos of you in your swimsuit, but most of all you will have a great time together, sunbathing or swimming, he will pretend to be a shark that wants to eat you so that you run away from him. When the sun is not so bright anymore, he will play beach volleyball with you, laughing when something goes wrong, but then he will teach you, he promise.

o.miya⸝⸝ ♡ He will invite you to his kitchen so that you can bake or cook something together and have great fun. So what if there's flour everywhere or something spilled on the floor, you'll clean it up later and now Osamu is busy kissing you while you wait for the dough to be made.

k.bokuto⸝⸝ ♡ If you stayed overnight at his place, don't think you'll sleep late if you wake up easily, because he'll start doing his morning stretches, doing push-ups, and encouraging you to sit on his back. He will sometimes ask you to join him, but you have barely woken up, but if you join him and stretch together, you must know that he will slow down on purpose so that you can keep up, he will be very happy.

a.akaashi⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet boy will read books to you but he will also be more than willing to listen to your voice if you read to him. He likes it when you lie on his lap and play a game while he rests the book on your head and you sit in comfortable silence.

k.sakusa⸝⸝ ♡ It's no surprise that this guy takes great care of himself and is glad that you do too. His favorite activity is when you spend the night at his place and do your skin care together, he likes it when you put a mask on his face and massage him gently.

#x reader #haikyuu #headcanon #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #hinata shoyo #hinata x reader #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #sawamura daichi #daichi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #kageyama tobio

[lambment]

Your recent drawings got me thinking~

Such a little theory of mine, I hope you like it!

In this drawing, The Lamb looks shocked and surprised. He doesn't seem to believe what he sees, but I also get the impression that he's looking a little hopeful at this new person. That person is undoubtedly Narinder. In the background we have the followers, who you can see are uncomfortable, perhaps a little afraid. I doubt they know who Narinder is - in the sense that he is The One Who Waits, because they are afraid of him. This implies that Narinder has done something wrong.

By that I mean I think the village fire that is in the other drawing happened before and Narinder is somehow connected to that. Maybe he caused the village fire himself? In this drawing you can see a cat in the background of the burning village, and that is definitely Narinder. The lamb doesn't react immediately and his posture seems surprised and as if he can't make a move.

I remember earlier you showed some drawings of how Lamb killed Narinder. At the time he seemed shocked by what he did, so maybe he did it amok. Protecting his followers might have forced him to kill Narinder, I think.

This drawing looks like Lamb was watching some show that shocked him. In the foreground we have someone wearing a cat mask (those cat ears) and someone pretending to be Lamb (a dagger, similar to the one we use as Lamb in the game). I think this is the scene in which Lamb finishes off Narinder. He is the only one who seems surprised by the performance, unlike the Followers who enjoy the show.

And we have a drawing where Lamb has encountered the Mystic Seller. I think this is their first meeting. I think it happened after Narinder's death and it was Mystic Seller who brought him back to life without Lamb's knowledge. I think that's why Lamb seemed surprised when he saw Narinder in the earlier drawing.

That's my theory on these drawings! I hope she at least got it right with something <3

!!! ecstatic that you theorized this from the illustrations omg! youre spot on about alot of things, especially the play rendition of the battle between Narinder and Lambert ;) you cooked with that YAHAAA!!

#cotl #cult of the lamb #narinder #lambert #fr au #fool's revenant au #speaketh

[comicaurora]

Have you seen the new Superman show on adult swim? Himbo Clark Kent rights

It's off to an extremely encouraging start! Thoughts under the cut!

I like how they portray Clark's super-strength and how comfortable he is flying and using super-speed. They really feel like innate characteristics of his body rather than powers he switches on and off - things he keeps toned down when people are watching, but things that are always present regardless. The number of times I've pulled a push door or shoved something that was stuck and thought "if I had super-strength I wouldn't get a Take Two on this because my hand would've gone straight through that" is clearly something the showrunners have also thought about. This Clark lives in a world of cardboard and physically cannot stop himself from putting his hand through it at least once a day.

There's a physicality to the way Clark takes hits that really communicates how little he feels them most of the time. Eyes open, mouth closed, immediately getting back into the fight after getting punched into a crater. This is stuff I also think about when I draw supernaturally tough characters in combat situations, and it's cool to see someone else doing it - especially since one of my very few complaints about the older DCAU is that Superman always took every hit like it was a fully incapacitating blow, which Worf'd him pretty constantly.

I also like that we have so far never seen Clark angry. We've seen him scared, flustered, disappointed - but not angry. Even in fights where he's taking serious hits, he's only motivated by wanting to protect and save people, even his opponents - he so far has never been motivated by a desire to destroy. That feels like very good writing for Superman.

It's currently a little unclear how exactly his powerset is scaling - it looks like the blue-eye-glow-and-suit-emblem thing is a legitimate powerup that lets him hit harder and recover faster than his normal baseline, but how exactly that works isn't clear yet - although that is very obviously going to be a plot point later, since they keep giving him little flashes of the story of Krypton's destruction and what shenanigans they were getting up to when it exploded.

On that note, Kryptonian tech has never looked or felt so otherworldly. I love the distorted electronic backward-voice choir they use exclusively for when Clark is on the ship. I love that hologram Jor-El can't speak English, but can clearly understand Clark - also this is the coolest Jor-El has ever looked. Some comics wax poetic about how Clark is an alien space god who only pretends to be human, but I like how this show is firmly putting Clark on the side of the audience with regards to how unsettling the "alien space god" vibes truly are. He can't understand the nature of the ship or the words of its holographic inhabitant, he's not really interested in what it means or where it came from - he just wants to know who he is, or rather who Superman should be. And I like that he concludes that Superman should be him - the heroics he was already doing, except this time on purpose. Superman should not be this spooky glowing alien god thing, even if that's the vibe we get from Krypton itself.

I like that the ship gave Superman his modern no-underpants-on-the-outside suit and Ma Kent was like "we can do better than that" and added the underpants back on.

I also like how much setup there is for future plot stuff that a DC-familiar audience can see coming. Clark hasn't used any of his vision-based powers yet, and it's possible he doesn't know they exist. No sign of Lex Luthor or Kryptonite yet, two problems we know will become more severe with time. We've already got Amanda Waller being stoically nefarious in the background. Young Hot Deathstroke is a hell of a design choice and I am Here For It.

I also appreciate how many little referential jokes are packed into the dialogue, ranging from the obvious "it's a bird it's a plane" to some hella deep pulls like Jimmy Olson's youtube channel.

And fundamentally I love how this show starts from the jump with the thesis that friendly, humble, Normal Man Clark is the real person, and Superman is the job that Clark Kent does. The title of the show is "My Adventures With Superman." The POV character is Clark. He is the "my" in that title. This is Clark's story about Superman.

I really, really hope Batman eventually shows up, because this Superman would make that hilarious.

#asks #not aurora #media recs

[beansprean]

I just know their first kiss is gonna be a disaster and this dialogue would not leave my head!!!

Nandor's brain: the best solution here is to pretend this never happened forever until we both die. (proceeds to bat out of any room Guillermo enters for the next three episodes)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Guillermo and Nandor in profile on a mottled brown background splashed with colorful lights. Nandor has thrown himself forward, one hand gripping Guillermo's cheek, to smash a desperate kiss against his mouth. Guillermo's eyes are wide with shock, cheeks red, his hand flying up to hover between them, body rocking back from the weight of Nandor's approach.

2. Guillermo closes his eyes and leans in, kissing back with an equally blissed expression and gripping Nandor's arm with his hand. Nandor relaxes into the contact, gentling the kiss and stroking his thumb on Guillermo's cheek. His far hand comes up, shaking, to grip at the back of Guillermo's neck.

3. The hand Guillermo has on Nandor's arm pushes him back suddenly, breaking the kiss, his other hand flying up to press a fist against his mouth in shock. His expression is panicked and embarrassed. Nandor's eyes fly open, his now-empty hands frozen and lips still pursed from the kiss.

4. Guillermo turns toward the viewer, shoulders hunched and clearly overcome. He ducks his head and presses his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, holding the other up in a 'stop' gesture towards Nandor. Nandor stays where he is with an uncomfortable expression, hands twiddling together anxiously l. He leans forward cautiously and says, "Guillermo, I... I did not mean... I mean, I did not plan..."

5. Zoom in at the same angle as Guillermo lifts his head from his hand, face creased in anger. His eyes snap over to Nandor and he says, "You couldn't think of a better time to do that than a month into your marriage, when my boyfriend is on his way here??" Nandor reels back with wide eyes, worried expression flying away in favor of shock.

6. Wide shot as Guillermo turns his back on Nandor, now facing the viewer at a new angle. In the background, Nandor plants his feet with an outraged expression, hands in fists at his sides, and splutters, "A bett-! Don't presume I am doing so much thinking about kissing you! Fucking guy..." Guillermo throws his hands up in frustration, letting out a loud "Ugh!"

7. Close up on Guillermo as he spins around to face Nandor, hands forming frustrated claws at shoulder height and expression desperate and upset. He shouts, "I'm happy! I'm happy with Freddie, okay??"

8. Close up on Nandor, lip curled and brow furrowed in confusion, looking hurt and defensive. Guillermo continues, "And I'm done sitting around and waiting for you to decide how you feel about me!"

9. Shoulders up view in profile. Nandor leans forward to bring his face close to Guillermo's, baring his fangs as he snarls back, "I have decided!" Guillermo gives the same energy back, drawing himself up as tall as he can to bring himself nose to nose with Nandor and yelling, "Oh yeah?? ¡Vale verga!" (In English: That's dick to me, I don't give a fuck, etc)

10. Repeat of panel 9, slight zoom out as Guillermo and Nandor stand glaring at each other nose to nose. Nandor is frowning deeply and Guillermo's mouth is pursed, chest puffed out in rage. Offscreen, the doorbell rings loudly, the text "ding-dong" filling the dead space in the panel.

11. Repeat of panel 10, both men now deflated. Guillermo settles back on his heels, shoulders relaxing, his stony gaze dropping to somewhere around Nandor's chest. Nandor straightens up, glancing away from Guillermo as his expression changes from rage to sorrow. Guillermo states to Nandor's tunic, "...That would be Freddie." /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #freddermo #what we do in the shadows fx #what we do in the shadows #my art #fanart #image described #angst

[pastel-pillows]

Finally free of Hawkins Billy makes his way back to California after years away where he makes a special stop at his favorite diner.

Word count: 8925

No warnings!

“One all American breakfast, extra bacon, extra crispy, with a black coffee, extra hot. Banana nut French toast with a side of sausage and orange juice and an Ella’s original with water, coming right up.”

The sun had just barely made its home in the sky for the day yet the diner was already bustling, silverware on ceramic plates and chatter mixing into an ambient background noise that mingled perfectly with the wafting scent of brewing coffee and frying foods. Large windows let in unfiltered light to bathe the small diner in a natural glow and despite the early hour, most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the welcoming atmosphere the building was bringing in, content, and some admittedly sleepy, faces all at peace.

“Thanks Hun, you’re the best.” A wrinkled hand held out the menus for you to grab, her other one patting the top of your hand in a silent ‘nice to see you gesture’ as you grab them.

“It shouldn’t be too long of a wait, most of the morning rush has been seated and served.” Tucking the menus underneath one arm you turn your attention to the toddler seated next to the older woman to ruffle his hair. “Would you like some crayons, little man?” Flipping the paper place mat in front of him over you pointed to the drawings and little mazes printed on it, all things he’d seen many times before but was nonetheless excited each and every time you showed him them.

“Here you go sweetheart.” The bell over the door chimed while you were grabbing the cup with worn down and, unfortunately, mostly broken crayons, so you call out over your shoulder that you’d be with whoever had just walked in, in just a minute. “Who’s the lucky person you’re coloring for this time?”

Having known the Hannigan’s from the summers you’d spent with your grandmother, you’d become quite familiar with their kids and in turn their grandkids and had several juice-stained pieces from Jackson pinned to the fridge in the kitchen of the restaurant. You didn’t get to hear his answer, the door chiming once more covering up the gentle reply from the timid kid so you just nod to pretend that you’d heard what he said and then promised to be back soon with their food and to check on his masterpiece.

By the time you made it back to the podium up front, no one was there to be found. A quick scan told you that whoever had come in had either gone to the counter to pick up an order or had gotten too impatient and simply left.

“He already left, sweetheart. Grabbed some pastries and booked it.” Helen reading your searching face gestures to the small glass display to illustrate her point. “Must’ve been on the road and in a hurry, I didn’t recognize his face, real quiet kid too, he didn't say much.”

“Thanks for taking him, I got caught up talking to Jackson about his art.”

“If only I was thirty years younger, he was a cute little thing.” Helen waves away your thanks in favor of cooing over the mystery man with the sweet tooth and how she would’ve eaten him up back in her day.

“Your mailman is going to be heartbroken.” You shoot a quick glance over the counter to see Sabino still cooking and take the chance to lean over the counter and gossip about Helen’s love life. “ The sailor, too.”

“Honey, there is plenty of me to go around, even at my age a good time is a good time. You should really be getting out there too, we can manage a shift or two without you, you know? The place isn’t going to crumble if it’s just us and you need to have fun while you’re young.” In between stories of her rendezvous Helen loved to urge you to follow in her footsteps and take the good that was offered, or at the very least spend time anywhere that wouldn’t leave you smelling of burnt coffee and fried foods. Her own kids had grown and left some time ago and she’d taken to you with an almost maternal, maybe more older sister role and was no stranger to worrying over you.

A pair of plates scraping as they slid across the tiled ledge drags your sight from Helen’s scrutinizing, albeit well-meaning gaze to a plate of French toast stacked sky high with whip cream, chopped nuts, bananas and powdered sugar and a much more modest one of eggs, hash browns and bacon. “Better get that, Jackson hates when the whip cream melts before he can eat it.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in going out; California was thriving –the place to be with seemingly new things coming out every day, but you needed to save. A car wasn’t going to buy itself and waking up at four every morning to catch the bus to make it to the diner on time wasn’t something you wanted to do forever and as much as you like rooming with Lisa, a place of your own was eventually the goal.

Your shift passes slowly after that, thoughts of what girls your age were doing occupying your mind, daydreams of nights out and shopping trips mixing with the fried scent of reuben sandwiches and chicken tenders as the morning crowd bled into the afternoon lunch rush.

Helen’s words left you longing for both the things you were missing out on and the parties you’d gone to in high school. You hadn't realized just how much you’d missed having simple mindless fun until today. The memories of his laughter echoed in the back of your head through your afternoon chores and well into the evening, your dreams were water colored that night, pretty but distant and just out of reach.

“Morning Hun.” Sabino, the only person to get there earlier than you, sat at an empty table with a mixing bowl full of fruit loops in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee which he slides to empty space on the other side for you to enjoy.

Sliding into the seat, you lay your head down on the table and wrap your palms around the warm ceramic to both enjoy the last dregs of sleepiness and allow yourself to fully let the approaching work day settle in in the peace of the morning. After a good ten minutes had passed, the bell on the front door chimes once, then twice– and finally a third time to let you know Helen, Marie and Dennis had made their way in and that it was time to chug your now lukewarm coffee and start getting things ready.

The morning prep goes fairly painlessly and as the sun creeps up people began to trickle in, all of them just as heavily lidded and reluctant to leave the cozy promise of beds and sleep that came with nightfall as you had been, but perking up at the smell of coffee and grilling bacon that saturated the air .

“Welcome to Cecil’s, will you be dining with us or ordering to go?” It was barely fifteen minutes past the hour when the bell chimes signaling another customer had come ambling in. Marie was hosting today and you can just barely hear her greeting the patron with an enthusiasm that could only come from someone who was as new to the workforce as she was, fresh faced and eager with everything ahead of her.

There was a longer than usual pause and you heard Marie speak again. “Sir?” Just a few more seconds pass and a deeper voice responds with three words that had you craning your head to peek around the corner where you’d been setting out the pastries.

“Coffee, to go.”

Marie repeats his order to confirm. “One black coffee to go. Can I get you anything else this morning? They’re just putting the pastries out, we make them ourselves.”

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Yes sir.” Knowing you should probably brush it off as someone who just sounds familiar, you find yourself quickly stacking the last of the muffins and closing the display to finish before Marie is done pouring the coffee to get a glimpse of the man up front.

Rounding the corner you make it in time to see Marie putting the pot of coffee back, she’d given him decaf on accident, with no one else up front. “Marie?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Can you cover for me real quick? I need to check on something.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

He was still there, sitting with one hand resting outside the window of his car holding a cigarette that he wasn’t smoking, head tilted back and eyes locked firmly on the roof of his car, the coffee he’d just bought was placed on his dash with the lid popped off and several sugar and creamer containers were open and emptied alongside it.

To everyone, including yourself, he looked to be just another man who was taking a moment to collect himself before the start of another day. To those who paid just a little more attention he looked nervous, the hand holding the dwindling cigarette shaking slightly at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“Billy?” He could hear the sun in your voice, feel the warmth.

“Hey Princess.” He offered an easy toothy grin as if him stopping by to say a quick hello was a common occurrence.

“I knew I recognized that voice. I didn’t know you were back in town, are you visiting family?”

“I’m just here for a few days on my way through town, then I'm heading out.” Billy flicks the butt of his cigarette to ash it, the cherry burning upwards on a smoke he’s only taken one drag from.

“That’s a shame, it’d be nice having you back around. You always had a way of shaking things up.” The chime of the bell over the door alerts you to Marie before the call of your name does. “Stop in for breakfast before you go, yeah? I’m on for the next three days, all opening shifts. I’ll have our chef Sabino make you his famous peanut butter banana nut waffles.”

You pat the hood of his car a few times and bid him goodbye over your shoulder while making your way back into the well-loved diner for the rest of your shift, a skip only your coworkers would notice had been added to your step.

After two weeks had gone by, you were sure that Billy had simply come and gone, sparing a quick stop to say hi to a highschool friend before disappearing to wherever his final destination would be. The coast was your guess, somewhere quiet, but not isolated where he’d always be close to the water. He’d always loved surfing on warm days where he could relax while digging his toes into the sand and watching the waves lap at the shore on the cooler ones.

It was a short meeting but it left a lasting impression on you, memories flitting through your mind while you worked for the rest of the day.

The trailers were just coming to an end when you’d finally made your way into the theater, the opening scenes filling the screen while you balanced your popcorn, soda and candy in one hand and your purse in the other, the narrow aisles seeming smaller with every seat already full for the debut showing of Terminator 2. Even in the dim lights, it was obvious tonight was going to be a sold out show.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Every empty seat you managed to find was filled by a bag or stray sweater to signal it was being saved for a friend or already taken by someone who were making a quick dash to the concessions for a refill on popcorn and coke, having already downed theirs during the ads for upcoming movies and new products.

“I’m sorry my friend is sitting here, she just went to the bathroom.” Linda Hamilton’s voice booms on the speakers just as the girl was talking, her words hushed and nearly lost by the on screen presence, but the apologetic expression was more than enough to let you know exactly what she had said.

A shout of your name brings your attention to a row towards the back where you were surprised to see Billy waving you over, his tenor deep enough it cut through the boom of the music sequence to show you that he was pointing to where there was an empty seat next to him.

You had to squeeze past more than a few people to reach him, awkwardly shuffling sideways while being sure not to step on anyone’s toes as you made your way down the aisle to where he sat next to the seemingly only open seat left in the theater. “You always were there in my time of need, I might just start to think you’re my hero.”

“You’re here on your own?”

“Sara was supposed to get here earlier to save seats but she called last minute to cancel.” You had a sneaking suspicion that her sudden change in plans had something to do with the new coworker she’d met last month named Michael, his name had been popping up in more and more of your conversations and you knew it was only a matter of time before her work crush turned into something more. Juggling your stuff, you managed to get your sprite into the drink holder and tuck your bag underneath the seat before collapsing into it with a relieved sigh. As used to being around strangers and making pleasantries as you were from work, it was nice to settle beside someone you knew on your day off.

The movie was ok and Billy was sure he would have liked it had he gotten more of the story but his attention was divided between you and the big screen, his eyes having a hard time choosing between the fast paced action scenes up ahead and your delighted face as you crunched away on your treat. In that hour and a half, he learned a few things: you like to talk during movies, soft enough that only he could hear your whispered commentary and jokes, you alternated between salty and sweet, for every few handfuls of popcorn you would toss a mouthful of reese's pieces into your mouth for balance, and no matter how many times he declined your offer of snacks you’d always offer again a few minutes later, never content until he was eating too.

“Did you see the Hospital escape?” By time the movie had ended you’d made your way through all of your Reese’s pieces and soda but still had about half of your popcorn left, you were clutching it to you and still snacking on it as you recited the film you’d just seen back to him in a dramatic play by play. “I never saw the first one, but Sara had insisted this was going to be the ‘it’ movie of the summer. You saw the first one, right? How did this one hold up compared to it?”

Like it was a habit you’d been doing forever you leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you walk through the lobby and towards the parking lot, the tub of popcorn being shoved into his view from time to time in your never ending bid to feed whoever was around you. He tensed at the contact initially, but relaxed as you walked in stride with him, the warmth of your head against his bicep bleeding through the denim of his coat. The arm that wasn’t clutching the butter stained container to your chest looped its way around the arm you were leaning against to offer you an easier time keeping pace with him.

Outside the sun had reached the final stages of setting, the darkness crowding the streaks of crimson and orange and snuffing out the last of today to get ready for the morning to come. It was still warm, made bearable by the breeze that drifted in from the west. You walked absentmindedly with Billy to his car, side by side like no time had ever passed and waited until he was by the driver's door to hand him the rest of your salty snack before wishing him a good night.

“Hey, wait, you have a ride?” He rested against the car with one arm, the other digging into the pocket of his jacket to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

“I walked here, Sara was supposed to meet me at my apartment and we were going to head here together since my place is just around the block.” Your thumb pointed behind you to show the direction you'd be heading and to give him some reassurance that you didn't have far to go to make it home.

Billy opened his mouth to say something. He'd wanted to insist on a ride, tell you to be safe, ask if you were sure; instead he pursed his lips together and brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette and just nodded.

“I’m glad I was able to see you one more time before you left.” He wondered if you could feel the way his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his frame to give him a quick hug, thanking him for watching the movie with you, or the way it relaxed as you did that same little squeeze right before you let go to say goodbye, just as you’d done since you were kids. He thinks you did when you turned back around for another hug, a fast one, clinging to him for the briefest second almost like you were making up for the goodbye you never got to have back then.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember what it was like before, before his mom had left, before Hawkins, before the mind flayer.

You’d been together from the start from kindergarten with Mrs.Mayo, where he’d been paired with you as your walking buddy. Your school in California had been a lot different from the one in Hawkins– rows of buildings connected like a strip mall with no hallways. The school had been fenced in of course, but they had you pair up for safety anyway and when it came time to take you to the cafeteria or the play area they’d line you up and have you walk side by side.

Everyday, multiple times a day he’d find himself next to you, marching in rows to get lunch or visit the library, but he never minded, you were nice, you liked to talk and you always shared your animal crackers on the walk back from the elementary rooms to the preschool and kindergarten area.

It didn't take long for his teacher-assigned partner to become his best friend.

He’d spend recess walking on the wooden beams that lined the wood chipped area of the playground, balancing on the thin strips and pretending you were on a pirate ship and walking the plank. Billy remembered taking turns with Selena, you and Andrew on the swings, competing to see who could get the highest before jumping off and bragging that he’d be able to swing high enough that he could loop around the metal bar. He’d hog one of the swings for the entire play time trying to soar over the top but had never managed to.

Even in class you’d been together, your desks arranged into pods of four that made up the ‘blue group’ were pushed flush together, blue construction paper taped to the forward facing side with your names written in your own messy scrawls. No matter how far back he’d thought, there was never a moment you weren’t a part of, something he’d only realized after replaying your night at the movies together.

It was an easy friendship to have.

It became a hard friendship to maintain.

You weren’t oblivious, he knew you weren’t, you’d seen the change. You heard the way playground roughhousing had evolved into high school rumors of vandalism, hookups and bullying, but Billy was still Billy, at least to you and when the lunch bell rang, he'd wait around your classroom and walk side by side with you to his car where you’d pile in with a mixture of his friends and whatever girl he was with that week.

“Let’s get Jack in the Box, those tacos have been calling my name since the second period.” Sid had one arm looped around your shoulder and one around the driver's seat where he was patting Billy’s chest to emphasize his need for the fast food tacos. “I’m sure our girl here could go for some onion rings.” He jostled your shoulder knowing if anyone could sway the vote for today’s lunch excursion that it’d be you.

“Curly fries do sound really good.” His eyes were on you, visible through the rear view mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s, Billy? I’d die for a milkshake right now.” The front seat was occupied by Amanda who was using the visor’s mirror to swipe on some lip gloss.

With one hand on the wheel and the other on Amanda’s thigh, Billy backed out of his parking spot, the rubber of his wheels leaving black marks on the pavement as he peeled out “A milkshake sounds good to me.”

“Come on man, even she wanted Jack in the box.” Defeated Sid slumped into his seat, a pout on his face at the lost opportunity to fix his midday cravings.

“An apple pie sounds good, too.” Your hand found Sid’s arm to give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t want an apple pie.” Through the mirror you could still feel his gaze, heavy, intense, and entirely focused on you as the car sped down the road towards town.

At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, in his mind at least, to push you away. It’d be easier for you both if you were the one who chose to walk away, he’d had plenty of experience with that and he knew if that was how things ended, he would at least be ok.

You’d known he was going to move, a few of your friends had gotten together in the dried creek behind his house to get wasted, say goodbye with jokes and talk about how he was planning to blow that ‘Midwest shithole’ that Susan had found for them in the middle of nowhere. You’d all stayed well past the setting sun, watching the running oranges and red dampen into a star-smattered sky while passing around the cheapest bottle of vodka that Wayne had been able to get his hands on.

The burn of the cheap booze sat in your throat even after the bottle had been handed from you to Billy to Wayne then to Sid, the bitter taste masked only by the bottle of apple juice you’d been nursing on the side.

“This year is going to blow without you man. Why’d your sister have to go try and run away like that?”

“She’s just a kid.” You defended.

“She’s not my sister.” His first answer overlapped your own. “She’s not my sister.” The second a much firmer response.

“Right, sorry man. I’m just bummed you’re leaving.” Sid raised his hands in defeat and the stereo pausing before switching to the following song, Rock you like a hurricane, was like an awkward punctuation to the tense conversation.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back here the day I turn eighteen. There’s no way I’m staying in that backwoods hell.” A breeze kicked up, warm but with the barest whispers of the impending winter, and you’re hit with the scent of cigarettes, liquor and cologne.

“Hey, Billy!” A little further down the dried creek Amanda calls out, she’s got a bottle of something brown clutched in her hand and two of her friends flanking her on either side.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Billy’s grin is wolfish when he pats his leg to invite her to sit on his lap, the excuse of there being nowhere else to sit leaving his mouth before she could make her way to the over crowded couch.

Things picked up from there, a bottle being passed between friends turned into more cars pulling up and beers being handed out as people clapped Billy on the back and told them they’d miss him, plans for the following summer already being made with liquor fueled optimism.

It was around three when people begrudgingly began to make their way home, designated drivers towing their drunken friends into their cars where they’d shout a final goodbye over the idling engines and milling people to Billy who just waved them off in favor of sucking face with Amanda.

“Hey man, we’ve gotta get home. My mom gets up at five and if I’m not home she’s gonna ship me off to Indiana with you.” Wayne stood behind the couch, fingers gripping the backrest and shaking it to get the pair's attention.

“I’m a little occupied.” Amanda’s lips stayed busy against his cheek as Wayne continued to whine about Sid being too drunk to drive them home.

“School starts in a couple hours, Billy. We could really use a ride home.” He didn’t respond to you at first, instead tilting his head so Amanda could continue to lather him with attention.

“Come on man.” Wayne shook the back of the couch hard enough it rattled you as well to no response other than a middle finger in his face. “Why don’t you try, Honey? He likes you better.”

“It is getting really late, Billy, would you mind taking us home?” Billy’s head lolled to the side and for a few seconds you felt like he was scrutinizing you, his blue eyes hardened for the briefest moment before softening and ultimately shifting to annoyance.

“Let’s go.” He patted the side of Amanda’s hip to tell her to hop off. “I’ll be back, Honey, wait for me here. Let’s make this quick, I have better things to do than drive you three home.”

“Told you he’d do it if you asked.” Wayne’s breath reeked of cheap beer when he leaned in to try to whisper that to you but the words simply went in one ear and out the other, just barely registering in the back of your mind.

He’d called her Honey.

He’d called her Honey and that shouldn’t have bothered you, but it had, more than the cold shoulder he’d been giving you for the past two months. It was a sting, sharp and quick, like the jab of a needle to see how pleased he was when she smiled at the nickname he’d only ever used on you. That had been your name since you were small, it was what everyone had called you, and it had never been all that special, not until it was given to someone else.

Sid’s house was closest and it took both Wayne and Billy to nearly drag him into the house, he’d been well past drunk and found the entire thing funny as the two wrestled him into a standing position so they could get him to walk with them. Wayne was next, a lot more sober than Sid, he offered Billy an arm around the shoulder squeeze and a “Keep in touch man.” Before he was off to climb in through his window.

When he’d pulled up to your house you didn’t reach for the handle, instead turning in your seat to face him. “Did you want to-“

“I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go.” He didn't miss the way your smile faltered as he said that.

“Promise you won’t forget me in the chaos of the morning before you go?”

“I won’t forget you, I promise.” His arm twitched against the back of your headrest where it lay, the habit of you hugging him before leaving his car ingrained into him. It was a small movement unnoticed by you, but a moment of weakness to him to see that he’d been expecting, wanting, that last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Silly Billy.” The nickname got a smile out of him, the first one he’d directed at you that night

“Bye, Honey.”

The next time you see him, you had ended up missing the bus by a few minutes, the fading red of the tail lights grew dimmer as they ventured further into the night. The heavy rain obscuring them and your hope of making it home far quicker than it should have on a summer night like this. It was warm at least, so it could definitely be worse, you reassured yourself, the air stifling despite the waters rushing down your face in rivulets and drenching your uniform with each trudging step forward, it could be winter.

Home was easily more than an hour and a half walk that you weren’t willing to take at this time of night, and the diner’s doors were locked until Sabino made his way in the next morning. A hotel would be too expensive so you turn to walk towards the edge of town hoping that Marie would be home and not at her night shift at the nursing home.

“Get in.” The roar of an engine reaches you before the lights do, muted by the downpour that had left you soaked to the bone and ready to throw down the fifty dollars for the cherrywood hotel that would assure you a bed and a shower in the next few blocks, even if it would be for less than eight hours. Your body tensed for the second it took you to process that the car that had pulled to the stop beside you was the same bright blue Camaro that had left the diner a few hours before you had and once it sunk in who the furrowed brow and rumbling voice belonged to you were more than eager to climb into passenger seat and melt into the leather interior that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. “What the hell are you doing out here, you’ll get hit in this weather.”

“I missed the bus, a table of six walked in right before closing and I just got out.” Water still drips from your hair and lingeres on your lashes before splashing onto the seat belt you were strapping across your chest. “I was heading to a coworkers to see if I could spend the night.”

A cigarette stayed tucked between pinched lips while Billy exhaled a sigh,he’d gone straight to the laundromat after grabbing a burger to go and had spent the last two hours on a hard plastic chair waiting for his clothes, which were all crammed in his back seat, to be done. “I’ll give you a lift, you still staying on Lakeshore?”

“Are you sure? It’s a little out of the way.”

“I was heading that way, I’m staying with an old friend until I find a place of my own.” The key with the tag ‘Cherrywood Room 218’ was burning a hole into his back pocket at the lie.

Billy’s knuckles were white, both hands wrapped tightly on the wheel with his thumb tapping against the hard plastic, the sound of the heavy rain pounding the top of his car had muddled with his racing thoughts of what to say until it was a cacophony of white noise that spurred on his anxiety. He’d gotten this far, taken years to heal, made it back home and was seated by you. He knew what he wanted next but being here alone with you had him feeling like he had when he moved away when he was seventeen, unable to express what he was feeling. It boiled his blood to feel helpless in a situation.

“You’re staying?” Just two words, spoken in no special way, warms him, stoking a growing feeling that you’d been feeding with each interaction, with each touch and act of compassion. He knew that he had a lot to fix, and that you weren’t the answer to how he would do that, but you were an ember, crackling quietly as a source of comfort he’d never known before, creating cracks in the wall he’d hastily boarded his heart up with all those years ago when his mom had left.

“I’m sticking around for a while. This place feels like home, you know?” He’d have to break the rest down himself, take steps to the life he knew he wanted, but he had a foundation, a place that wanted him.

His grip on the wheel loosens, the tension from just minutes prior lifting with the contended hum you answered with as if you had just given him permission to allow himself to want to stay.

The drive passes quickly after that, with your head rested against the window watching the rain race against the chilled pane of glass and the both of you wrapped up in your own thoughts, neither of you seeming to realize you’d made it to your driveway until the car went from smooth cement to the crunching of your gravel driveway.

You linger in the car for a minute, your hand on the handle of the door steeling yourself to be drenched again. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m staying just a few minutes from here.” Again the key feels more present in his pocket, reminding him of the can of worms he was opening by allowing himself to take this time with you.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around, senior year just wasn’t the same without you around, I missed having you there.” The volume of the rain increases as you crack open the door. “Thanks again for taking me home, the next time you come into the diner, desserts on me.”

“Take this.” Before you’d fully opened the door Billy shrugs his coat off, the same brown leather one he’d had since you were fourteen, to hand to you, his favorite one he’d never let anyone else wear, let alone borrow before tonight. He lingered for a bit, watching you run the short distance to your front door with his coat held above your head, the leather he’d taken such care of getting drenched to spare you from getting any wetter and only backing out of the drive once he could see the light spilling from your living room as you walked into your apartment.

Any plans he’d thought of having for the following day were forgotten as he decides that pancakes sound perfect for tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Good morning and welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress today.” It was early, the gray of the sky muddling into the blue of early dawn, but you were wide awake, the smile on your face genuine as you greeted the third table of the morning.

“I was in green all day.” Jackson is already hard at work on his newest masterpiece, the blue crayon running against the paper to fill the sky like he was in a race against time to complete it.

You glanced at his grandmother for context and she explains that they had a chart for behavior, green was good, yellow was for needing a little extra direction, and red meant they'd been having a hard day.

“Well it sounds like you’ve earned yourself a treat, I'll be sure to tell our cook to make your pancakes extra special. After all, it's not often we get someone who managed to stay in green all day.” The boy beams at you, obviously enjoying the praise and the promise of an extra special breakfast for his good behavior at the daycare. He’d always been a good kid, and you were happy to celebrate that, but you were especially proud at how he’d been so excited to tell you about his accomplishments.

Helen grabs you the moment you put his order in with Sabino. “I’ve got another one for you, honey, Chelsea’s running late again.” The pause and pointed look before she said again was telling. Chelsea being on time was more unlikely than snow in December, but at least she always showed.

You could just make out the mess of blonde curls over the high back of the booth, styled to perfection but made to look effortlessly natural. “Welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I get you started with some coffee?”

Billy looked at ease, he almost always did, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and a bored look on his face. His jaw is tense, a nervous tick he remedied by placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The filter between his lips being crushed when he offered a tight lipped nod and slid the still upside down ceramic cup to you.

He could swear the sun broke through the clouds at the same time you smile, maybe even believes it only had because you did if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, dusting the gray expanse with gold to match the warmth of your grin as you rattled off the specials of the day even though you both knew he was getting the peanut butter banana nut pancake stack you’d promised at the movies.

Your pencil, a stumpy little thing just barely long enough for you to hold, had been scribbling on the notepad you carried in your apron, writing an order down he hadn't placed before you had even finished telling him about the soup of the day. “I’ll be right back with your food, Billy.”

Wafts of smoke start to lazily float up the moment you walk away, twirling in wispy gray lines before dissipating into the air. Billy isn’t sure if it’s the rush of nicotine or the comfort of routine but he can feel his muscles losing the tension he hadn’t realized they’d been holding since he walked into the diner, the simple act of doing so being a submission on his end. With all of your prior meetings being on his terms and in his places of comfort walking into a place that was so inanely you felt almost vulnerable.

Less than ten minutes had passed when you were back at his booth with a plate stacked high in one hand and a steaming mug in the other one, the look on your face is all too pleased as you set down a mountain of banana nut pancakes smothered in peanut butter and drowned in syrup. The sight of it alone is enough to make Billy’s teeth ache.

“I brought you some cocoa too.” The mug you hand to him was full to the brim almost to the point of overflowing and topped with a more than generous handful of mini marshmallows the top of which were sprinkled in cinnamon.

Exactly the way he’d taken it since you were both small and had spent your first holiday season together.

The house smelled of chocolate melting into perfectly buttery cookies, splashes of vanilla and sugar settling the house into a holiday haze. On the couch next to you Billy was curled up into himself, half of the blanket you were under was draped over him as you both nursed the cups of cocoa his mom had made you while you attempted to warm up from the day you’d spent playing outside.

On the tv a year without Santa was playing and Billy’s mom sang along to the tune of Heat Miser’s song, your own mother alongside her working on cookies for when Santa made his way here the following morning.

Billy’s attention is ripped away from the screen when he hears your mom calling a name, a name he doesn’t know, and you hop off the couch with your cocoa still in hand to go help her with the cookies.

“Your name isn’t Honey?” The revelation was clearly a shock, his eyes were large, comically so as he repeated the name to himself, your actual name feeling weird and clunky on his tongue after having known you as Honey for the past three months at school.

“You thought my name was Honey?” Billy could feel his face burn at the giggles that caused, both yourself and the two moms in the kitchen cooing over the fact that he’d been calling you Honey this whole time.

“That’s what the teacher always calls you.” He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping past his face to his ears.

“That’s silly, Billy, that’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, well…I like that name better.” He took a hasty swallow of cocoa to cover his blunder and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, the whole ordeal only bringing more attention to him.

“That’s ok, you can call me Honey.”

“Thanks Princess.”

“I'll be back in a bit to see how you’re enjoying the food.” Not if he was enjoying the food, just how he was enjoying it. Billy had been known, by those close to him, to have a notoriously big sweet tooth, he’d done well to reign it in, instead focusing on working out and keeping in shape but he’d never been able to say no to baked goods especially if it was you who was offering them.

When you make your way back around to him, coffee pot in hand to refill his cup, he’d already polished off the cocoa and a third of the pancakes.

“How’s the food?” You spare a cautious glance around to the other diners to assure they were all content before setting the pot onto the table and sliding into the seat opposite him, the worn leather making you scoot more than glide across the bench seating to be directly across from him.

You’d asked him right as he’d taken a bite of his pancakes and he did his best to say it was delicious around the mouth full of sticky cakes which only earned a laugh from you and a glare from him.

“Are you on break?” Billy takes a quick sip of the too hot coffee to help clear the food in his mouth so he could talk to you.

“Not for another few hours but I’ve checked all my tables and can spare a few minutes.” Your hand reaches across the table to steal his fork and uses it to cut a chunk of his pancakes that you steal a bite of. “We really do have the best pancakes.”

“Do you always steal your customers' food?”

“Only the ones I really like.” It was an old game between you two, shared food, stolen food, some days he’d steal your cherries and you’d take his pickles anytime his food came with them. Seeing you slip into your old role so easily brings a smile to his face.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” It slips out before he’d wanted it too, the words leaving his mouth before they get a chance to fully form in his head. He’d been wanting to ask you,in a far less crass and direct way but the question lingered in the air unable to be taken back.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah princess, a date.” It was already out there so he doubles down, layering his voice with that thick charm that he’d practiced, and perfected, over the years. Leaning in, Billy let the knuckles of his right hand brush against the top of your folded hands that were resting flat on the table, you were soft against his own battle scarred skin.

“Sure Billy, I’d love to.” It was a fast answer, instant really, an eager response and the matching grin you held on your face has him retracting his hands back to his own side, both of them landing in his lap before they slid down to his knees so he’d have a place to rest them. What did he normally do with his hands after someone had said yes? “I'm free. Friday night.”

You weren’t but nothing worth doing was going to be happening on a Wednesday evening and trading a shift to soothe the fluttering in your stomach that had been building since your first run in in the diner parking lot seemed worth it.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Are you just going to wait by the window?” You’d been hovering in Lisa’s peripheral for the last ten or so minutes, alternating between checking the window by the door and double - then triple checking that you still looked ok in the little circular mirror that was older than you were that was pinned to the wall. “You’re going to pace a hole into our carpet.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“That you’ve been on a date or that you’ve been with Billy?” You held her full attention now, Lisa’s body twisted on the couch so she could rest her torso on the arm rest and watch you with an amused gaze. The name ‘Billy’ came out in a lilting way telling you she already knew the answer to your question.

“I’ve missed him, y’know?” You wouldn’t say a piece of you had been missing, but his absence had been felt. It was felt in the way you’d hear a car peeling down the street and your head would still turn, always expecting to see the blue build of his Camaro and to this day you still get an extra cherry on your milkshakes because he’d always stolen the one off of yours for years. Having him gone was like losing your favorite sweater or chapstick, you know it’s gone yet you still find yourself searching for its comfort.

Lisa’s eyes study your face for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time but in reality had only been a few seconds before she turns back around on the couch sliding down into the divet she’d made to continue watching whatever had been holding her interest before. “Make sure he has you home before midnight.”

This time when you heard the roar of an engine pulling into the spot in front of your apartment you know that as soon as that door opened you’d find the perfectly polished metal of Billy’s 1979 Chevy and Billy himself on the other side waiting for you.

You can smell it the moment you’d climb into his car, a warm, greasy, salty scent that makes your mouth water filling the air. Nestled between your two seats you could see a white bag, still warm enough you could feel the heat radiating from it, with bold red lettering and the paper turning translucent from the grease seeping through it from the fast food inside. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Billy had his foot on the gas the moment your seatbelt clicked into place, the music turning up as he turned onto the street and began to drive you towards the edge of town.This time settling into the passenger seat felt right, like sliding on your favorite sweater that you’d worn over in time, like it was your seat again.

Small talk fills the short ride, your excitement over him being there and his slanted half smile coming easily, like no time had ever been spent apart, your comments being met with sarcastic banter and teasing remarks. The drive ended up going quickly and finishes with him pulling into the empty parking lot of a park you’d often pass by while running errands, the dark stretch of playground and grassy fields being illuminated by the pale moon overhead and the filtered yellow of the lampposts littered around the area.

The two of you sit on the play area, bypassing the splintering picnic tables to sit on the faded black plastic of the swings, the chains digging into the meat of your palms as you held onto them to help keep you in place while your legs folded in and out to get just enough momentum going for a light swing.

“This seemed so much bigger when we were younger.” You can still see his blonde curls leading the way around the playground, frizzy from playing in the hot summer sun, and still hear his voice excitedly telling you about the seven foot wave his mom had let him surf on his own over summer break.

Beside you the paper bag crinkles as Billy digs out the food he’d gotten for your date and you’re handed two tacos and a large curly fry. “Haven’t had this since junior year, there’s nothing in that shithole but cows and corn.”

“You still remember my order.” The swing drags to a stop when you push your heels into the soil and wood chips below, two deep divots forming in the material at the base of your heels as your movements halted.

You go for the curly fries first and the memories of lunch runs and late night drives hits you before the salt registers on your tongue, the way he’d always grumble about crumbs in his car negated by the salty treats he always seemed to have around for you.

Billy had always been unapologetically himself but it was only when you’d begun reminiscing on both your shared past and the years apart did you truly get to see him as he’d been in your memories, eyes bright and that deep hearty laugh of his twisting your stomach in knots that only his smile eases.

The rest of the night passes like that, stories shared between bites of food, jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as the way you two were laughing at them made them out to be and every so often his knuckles brush against your own as the swings sway with your movements. You stay in the park until what you could only guess was well past the curfew Lisa had given you, the cars having long since cleared the road.

It wasn’t until his car pulls into your parking lot that he kisses you, there was lull in conversation as you sat in the passenger seat with neither of you in a rush for the night to truly be over. You’d just finished telling him a story about graduation and how Sid and Wayne had almost made you miss your turn to walk and you have the biggest smile on your face.

You were always smiling, sure in him as a person in a way it took life-altering events for him to be in himself, even now as his fingers hesitated moving gently against the swell of your cheek. He’d been good at this before, it came naturally to him; a flash of a smile, a compliment here, a light touch there and whoever he was with was putty.

When his lips brushed against yours it was light, a soft glide of his lips that made your lips tingle. The initial kiss was enough to make him hungry for more, his own slightly chapped lips pressing against your own more eagerly, the hand that was just barely ghosting against your skin now cradled your face, holding it firmly to keep you in place as his lips moved against your own. The kiss had a sense of urgency to it, longing and needy but with no end goal in mind, he took and you were happy to give.

You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted,was it a long kiss? Short? Time had slipped away, moving around the two of you, just for this one moment, the moment everyone but the two of you had seen coming since fall of ‘72 when you’d intertwined your little hands for the first time and instantly bonded.

Billy broke away first, his lips kiss swollen and slick, but he remained close, his half lidded eyes, normally so icy and sharp had warmed to a softer shade of blue as they stayed level with your own, drinking in your own dazed but entirely pleased expression and only darting down to watch the way you bit the corner of your lip, chewing on it with a giddy smile.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that, your genuine response simple but so endearing, that same sunshine bright smile on your face as he laughed at your awe-struck answer to your very first kiss together.

“Wow?” He was sure you would be able to warm up even the dreariest of Hawkins winters with the way you were looking at him, eye bright and taking him in like he was the one who could thaw a cold Midwest January day with just a look.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that since you drove me home back in August.” There was a breathlessness to your voice with the kiss itself not being too heated, but the thrill of how perfect it felt to have him mould against you stealing the air from your lungs all the same.

You would have stayed there all night if you hadn’t had a shift the following morning but the late hour didn't stop you from stealing one more quick kiss before bidding him good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning Honey.” This time as you climb out of the car and he promises to see you the following morning you know he’ll be there.

Special thanks to so many people first @jo-harrington who is the reason I wrote this. @the-unforgivenn who has read this enough times im sure she could recite it by memory. @ghost-proofbaby @hellfire--cult (who also made the amazing banner and divider) @munson-blurbs @dr-aculaaa who all helped plot and cheer me on every step of the way. I’m so appreciative of you all 💕

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #i honestly consider this my first full real fic #i hope you guys like it

[eeldritchblast]

Thoughts on Halsin

I want to preface this by saying I don't have anything particularly against Halsin as he is in game. But I do find him lacking in depth, when compared to everyone else.

Even without knowing that he was added as a full companion last minute, I would probably have guessed as much simply because there's not much to him beyond the role he plays in the Shadow-Curse quest of Act 2. This is lampshaded with dialogue about how he himself feels consumed by his determination to end the curse. But to me, that just feels like a cop-out. Imagine any other character looking at the camera and just saying "yeah I know I don't have much character beyond what happens to me in the plot, too bad?"

But I think the worst crime about his lack of development, is the fact that because he doesn't have a lot else going on, he feels a little overly sexualized to me; like he's just there for the player to thirst after because he's this big, bulky man. Now, to be clear, I don't care that he's horny, and I definitely don't care that he's poly. (My GF is a poly lesbian, and honestly I could see myself having more than one romantic relationship , too, if someone else was ever interested in me like that and cool with it.) What I'm trying to say is, because he's lacking in other areas, leaving those traits being of his few you can list, it makes them feel of less value, and makes him feel more like a sex prop. And if you're gonna have a character with rape victim as part of his background like Halsin has, then that's the last thing you want, I think.

So, what more could be done with Halsin?

I once made a joke that someone should draw Halsin in a "Big Auntie Energy" shirt. For those of you who aren't Native, let me try to translate: In most if not all Indigenous Nations, we often call women who are champions of our cultures and communities "Auntie", whether they are actually literally your aunt or not. An Auntie is someone you dearly love, and trust to guide you. Halsin already plays something of a mentor figure to the protagonist—indeed, dev notes even call him "avuncular"—so why not lean into it further by showing what he does for others, too? Pretending that there was more development time allotted, here's what I would've liked to see...

"This place crawls with life, but little of it flourishes. I see refugees, unhoused. The destitute, unwanted. Orphans, unloved. … I wish there was a better way. I wish everyone could see the sun, have a full belly, and know nature as a friend. There is a balance that is yet to be found." —Halsin

After ending the Shadow-Curse, Halsin says he needs to find a new purpose. I feel like his purpose could easily align with his horror of the inequalities of Baldur's Gate. Instead of just talking about how awful it is, why not allow the player to challenge him to try and change things, then? For example, I like to imagine Halsin telling stories to the orphans in Rivington, providing them comfort and someone to look up to. Or another example: Halsin helping out in or maybe starting some kind of charity meal program. It's small, but it's enough to say that he could actually grow a little as a person within the game's story. And it would add at least a little bit of engagement on the player's end as well, instead of feeling like the relationship with Halsin, platonically, is one-sided.

This all doesn't come from nowhere, by the way. If you exclusively romance Halsin, he says goodbye to the player in the end because he is leading a group of people into Thaniel's realm to start a new life. But personally, I feel like this is too great a leap back into an Archdruid role he specifically rejected, because he didn't like it. It also would've been nice to get this kind of dialogue without having to romance him; to know what lies ahead for Halsin as a friend, too.

Now, that's the good ending. But almost all the companions in BG3 have a "good" and "evil" ending. I feel like this really adds a lot of insight into the characters, because they feel real through it; we all have the potential to make good and bad choices, after all. So what could be Halsin's evil-aligned ending? Well, remember when he questions if the Shadow Druids actually have a point? How about giving the player the opportunity to push him further down that path instead... Shadow Druid Halsin, holy shit.

Now, there's one more thing I want to circle back to: Halsin's past. He very casually speaks of his time as a captive in the Underdark. And maybe it was so long ago that he's long dealt with such trauma, but still, I really wish there was a way to say "hey bud, that's really fucked up and I'm sorry that happened to you." But there's not a single dialogue option that allows you to express sympathy, besides just saying "that's awful", which doesn't cut it. Halsin himself says, "sometimes I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." Not allowing the player to be sensitive to his feelings goes exactly against this message not to judge a person's emotions by physical appearances.

Anyway, Halsin is a character that I think has a lot of potential, but doesn't quite reach it in game. I think it's great that he was given a bigger role due to popularity, but I just wish that role was expanded on to the same degree as the other companions.

#halsin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #rape tw

[tinandabin]

Another gen z reader pls!

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND.

Yandere Muzan x Gen Z! Reader.

Also, this will contain TRIGGERING THEMES!! It could be anything, like mentions of murder, blood, obsession, anything yandere related. Basically dark content, so if you are NOT comfortable with such stuff, please do not read this post!

Okay, so before we start this shit, just know that Muzan here is kind of gonna be like, only good to you and shit.

"My love, I'm back-" Muzan announced as he started taking off his coat like they did in those 90s shit. Or not. God, my memory is fucking shit. That does not matter, for the only goal in your mind at the moment is to find a excuse to get away from this ugly orange of a demon.

"Oh no, I forgot to water my baguettes! I am so sorry, I must take my leave right now!" Just as you said that, your baguettes in the background screamed, "Hydrate us, [Name]!"

I can't even properly tell you how hard Muzan face palmed at your so stupid attempts to try and escape his affection??? And he doesn't even wanna know who you bribed to wear baguette costumes and say to hydrate them.. What did you even bribe them with???

One of them was probably Enmu.

Muzan, himself doesn't know why the fuck he finds you so amusing. It's probably because you are like, literally playing with your life. Literally.

Evidence is the time when you once tried drinking bleach because first, it looked tasty, and second, you wanted to know what bleach tastes like.

And my God, it did not taste as good as it looked like! IT WAS A SCAM. No one ever scammed you this hard. It tasted like extremely concentrated swimming pool water.

Oh that reminds you of the time when you drank swimming pool water-

And in the Taisho Era, there is no shit like fanfics or memes so Muzan can more than often find random drawings...which are memes but his boomer brain can't process what's so funny about it. Like, talking croissants are funny- no, not the ones you find on Kids YT.

But as I said there are no fanfics, and my goodness do you love reading, proof is of you reading this. So let's hope you like reading books too.

No fanfics. What can you do? Probably read Shakespeare. I'm bullshitting my way through this, please deal with it.

Of course, after reading Shakespeare your grammar and vocabulary got a lot better! Which Muzan liked, a lot.

But,,,,, you being you, now even have more ways to insult Muzan. Like,

Thou base decayed ingested-lump!

Thou perfidious weather-bitten writhled shrimp!

Thou fawning fool-born filthy rogue!

And you could go on and on, but let Muzan have a break.

It's so funny to the uppermoons, especially Douma, when Muzan is just 'scolding' them by 'gently' smashing there heads in and you come in and go, "Awww, mama duckling scolding her ducklings..." As you pretend to make a video with your phone which you don't have because Muzan broke it because he's an asshole.

And as soon as you come in, somehow all the blood disappears and everything is normal as he kisses your forehead and asks, "What are you doing here, darling, did I not tell you to not leave your room?"

Everyone present could feel the temperature drop when Muzan said that, and that was not a good sign.

"YOU AREN'T MY MOM." As soon as you said that, you ran away faster than light because you are....idk. You were able to run away mostly because Muzan let you, but trust me when I say that he wasn't angry at you, more so at the demons who he kept at your room's door to prevent you from leaving the room.

And those poor, poor demons who were now begging for their lives as Muzan glared at them, "I gave you one job, one job.."

That's just when you had to again come in, "CUT!" You yelled, "Do it again, but this time, with more feelings." The demons and Muzan nodded, "ACTION!" You said as the scene started again, this time, with more feeling.

One time you just pointed at one ugly demon and said, "This does not spark joy," Muzan killed it. And then after seeing what Muzan did to the ones you said that to, "This does not spark joy," you said to Muzan. Pointing at him.

And after that, he was seen sulking the whole day because he thinks you hate him, which you do. I hope. I don't know.

MASTERLIST

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #dark #yandere #yandere demon slayer #yandere kny #muzan #yandere x reader #yandere muzan x reader #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan headcanons #muzan imagines #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan x gen z reader #muzan x gen z y/n #muzan x gen z you #muzan demon slayer #kibutsuji muzan #reader x muzan kibutsuji #reader x #reader x muzan #x reader #reader x kny #yanderes

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl - Chapter 4

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi

His body felt weak, and he dropped himself to the floor. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, dreaming he could run away. 

He punched the floor and screamed, "No! I won't do it."

"Don't be that innocent, Steve. Art is always related to money laundry."

Y/N exhaled another smoke. "I knew a drug cartel who hung two Picasso's in his bathroom."

'Oh God, she knows a drug cartel now.' Steve's hand ran down his face. 

"You need the money, Steve. Drawing hentai comics and the salary of a part-time waitress and cashier is not enough to pay for your mother's surgery."

"And your father's debts."

How did she know that? That's the painful past he always pretends never happened. They have to move several times to avoid the debt collector.

He lifted his head to look up at her. "You do a background check on me?" 

Then it hit him. "You choose me because I'm poor!!!"

She didn't deny it, and it seems like she admits it. 

Y/N know Steve is a man with a strong sense of pride. 

That's why she wanted to break him. He became easy prey because he didn't have any money. 

"Steve, I'm offering you a shortcut to get quick money."

"Or do you want to build a startup that could give you more debt or join a Ponzi scheme like your father?"

Steve gritted his teeth. "You're evil."

Y/N let out laughter wounded like a warning from a beast. "Not just evil but also greedy. I learned this the hard way to survive."

'Survive? What does she mean by that?'

She offered her hand to him. "If you doubt me, I have written a contract for this. In that contract, you get all the benefits. If you have disadvantages, you can sue me."

He clenched his fist. What does she want from him? Please make her stop. It felt like he was stuck in a shipping ship. 

"You need this, Steve. Aren't you tired of being humiliated because you have no money?" 

Steve saw Y/N with two horns, bat wings, and a tail. She offered him a dangerous deal. 

But deep down, even though he knew this was wrong, he needed that money. 

He's tired of drawing that comic, different part-time jobs, and hiding from debt collectors; he wants to move out of that ugly apartment and needs money for his mother's surgery. 

He threw away his morals. 'Forgive me, Mother, this son of yours will be a partner in crime.'

He grabbed her hand, and she helped him to stand up. He doesn't speak, but it's a silent yes.

Y/N smiled, "That wasn't difficult right?"

She dragged his hand, but Steve's body wouldn't move. "Where are we going?"

"Just get into the car."

He let her drag his hand; when he finally got inside the car and put on his seat belt, he asked, "Now we're inside; where are we going?"

"Saint Barbara Hospital."

Steve almost jolted his eyes. "This is low Y/N !!! You're going to use my mom to blackmail me?"

This is also the first he screamed at her. That place is where his mother got admitted. 

Y/N gasped, "Wow, I will never use that method."

He scoffed, "Yeah, right."

She stirred the wheel and started to drive. "You are free to hate me. But I'm the only solution you got. Besides, I'm visiting someone too."

Steve remembered something, and it made him wonder. "Before you said, evil and greed are needed to survive. What do you mean by that?"

There's no answer. Steve saw Y/N's right hand tremble; she had to put her left hand to calm it down. Then she immediately turned on the car autopilot. 

She lowered her head while massaging her hand. 

"I learned it the hard way; being kind is useless. That's why I'm intrigued by you."

Steve pointed to himself. "Me?"

"You aren't offended when your classmates mock you; you weren't greedy when I gave you the deposit money for the drawing. And I liked how you looked at me for the first time."

She was silent for a second, then said "You despised me."

"..."

Steve rubbed his forehead; he is dealing with a crazy person. "You're crazy."

She laughed and said, "I know."

When the car arrived, the hospital security opened the car, and she handed him the key. 

Steve always gets here by bus but never sees a valet service. 

"I didn't know this hospital offered a valet service."

"They don't."

Both of them walked together into the lift. Y/N pressed the 2nd floor. Steve always came to this hospital; he knew that floor was for physiotherapy. 

Without looking at him, she said, "I'm going this way without looking at him. See you tomorrow."

Steve finally could breathe when she left. When the lift door slide opened, he went straight to a patient room where his mother stayed. 

There he saw his mother already in the wheelchair. 

She smiled at him because she knew his son would come. "Let's go outside. The weather is nice." 

Steve couldn't say no to this fantastic woman. Sarah Rogers. She has sacrificed so much, and he is always grateful for having a strong mother like her. 

But her kidney got worse. Because his father failed at business, he ran away and left the debt to Steve and Sarah. One day his mother had to sell her kidney so they could survive. 

Steve still felt guilty until this day. But she never blames anyone, even her husband, and keeps smiling.

Steve brought her to the hospital park. On the way to the park, Sarah greeted everyone. She stayed in the hospital for so long that made her know everyone.

When he found a perfect spot to sit, Sarah pointed at someone.

"Oh, that's Lilly."

Steve looked in the direction she pointed. An older woman in a wheelchair and being pushed by…

Y/N??? 

"Mom, you know her?"

"Lilly, of course. She used to be our neighbour. She's a piano teacher."

"And the person who is behind her?"

"Ooh, you mean Y/N? She's a nice kid."

'Nice? She's far from that.' Steve wants to tell his mother the truth. 

"She used to live around our neighbourhood too. But she moved after her father remarried"

Steve raises his eyebrows. Y/N used to live near their apartment. She didn't grow up in an elite neighbourhood?

"Y/n is Lilly's only student who keeps coming to check on her. And she paid for her surgery."

"Student?"

"Lilly told me Y/N is a prodigy, but she stopped playing the piano after an accident."

Sarah sighed. "That poor girl, Lilly, always in tears when she mentioned it. Y/N's fingers got hurt because of the accident, and she can't play the piano anymore."

Steve remembered Y/N were shaking. 

Did something happen in her childhood? Trauma?

He doesn't know he starts to sympathise with Y/N. He shook his head. It's not just her who went through a hard life. 

Even if she has trauma, at least she has money. 

After he visited his mother, Steve went home and started painting. If he could complete his work, he could end the deal with Y/N immediately. 

'Bzzt.'

Hmm? Another call from Bucky. Steve answered the phone. 

"Hello?"

"Uhm, the girl you mentioned yesterday reminded me of a famous kid from my university."

Steve sighed and said, "Y/N L/N." That name reminded him of tobacco since she smoked a lot. 

"Ahh, that's her name !! She is admitted into your faculty?"

"Yeah."

"That's unrelated to her law degree."

So she's graduated. "Then what is she doing in Stark?"

"Uhm, I heard a rumour from my team. It was hot gossip."

"What is it?"

"Y/N, after she graduated and joined her father's law firm, she exposed the Imperial University admission scandal."

Steve gasped when he heard that info. He heard about that scandal, but the news stopped talking about it.  

"You know what's crazy? Her step-grandfather is the biggest donor of this campus."

How did Bucky know that? 

"I think she went to Stark to make her stay out of trouble."

'That's why she said this is her punishment.'

"Did she make trouble there?" 

"Always. We called her Mad Dog. Some people don't agree with her method, but she defends weak students."

That's hard to believe. Wait, she defends him from Luke. He saw her as a good person before she turned into a crime lord. 

"I think she got kicked out from the family because she almost tarnished her father's law firm."

"And her sugar daddy Tonny helped her."

"What?!! No!!! That's disgusting. Tony is her godfather."

"How did you know?" 

"When she graduated, her father didn't come, and Tony replaced him. Tony was so proud of her perfect GPA and told everyone that he's Y/N godfather."

"What is her father's name?"

"Brian Solomon."

'Brian. That name sounds familiar.'

"Why does she have a different last name?"

"Her father took his wife's name after he got remarried. If you go here, you will know everything about her. Her family is basically like a royal family. "

'Crash'. 

"Steve, what's wrong?"

"My hand slipped. I break the glass. Sorry Bucky, I'll hang up."

Steve put down his phone and picks up the shattered glass. 

L/N.

Lawyer Brian L/N. Steve remembered that name. 

That person is the lawyer who defends the people who introduce the Ponzi Scheme to a bunch of people like Steve's father. 

The victim who invested their money lost everything. While the mastermind didn't get punished. 

"Uurgh." This info triggered his asthma. Steve took his inhaler to breathe.

What kind of crazy coincidence is this? 

Y/N is Brian L/N's daughter.

Like father and daughter, both of them are evil and greedy. 

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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Join the tag list :

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#my problematic girl series #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x dark!female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #pre serum steve rogers #pre serum steve x reader #marvel au #steve rogers fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reblog #today on tumblr

[dandelionbitch]

I'm learning to draw! I'm taking pictures from around my city (either from Google Maps or going out and taking the reference pics myself) and thinking about how unused patches of land could be repurposed to benefit people and the Earth! Every plant I draw will be edible and/or native to my region. Here I've drawn:

blue false indigo (which is a nitrogen fixer AND provides winter interest with its huge seed pods);

calendula (which is edible and attracts ladybugs, natural predator to aphids);

carrots (which as we know are delicious, though not so much when they go to seed);

chives (delicious and deter pests); and

two evergreen shrubs, thuja occidentalis.

I kinda tried to do everything with this garden, creating something pretty, low-maintenance, and attractive to pollinators. There's still a lot of considerations to make though. Even though I know for a fact that this road it's next to isn't busy, it's still right up next to where cars' exhaust pipes drive by. Thus, I wouldn't really recommend eating the calendula or chives. I assume the carrots would be fine since they're underground, but I don't actually know that for sure. If that's still an issue, or if the soil is just too lifeless/compact for carrots, we can pretend it's yarrow instead.

Also the tree in the background is redrawn from the original photo, so it's probably a Bradbury pear (blegh) but we can just say it's a chokecherry now.

Sorry it's blurry, I don't have a scanner so I took a picture with my phone. Also the sky was colored in digitally so I wouldn't waste all my blue ink.

#guerilla gardening #native plants #pollinator garden #food gardening #traditional drawing #markers #sharpies specifically

[eliteseven]

Not the same anon but I would also love jealous Shadowheart HCs. A one shot would be amazing if you can but no pressure!

Lolllll

Jealous Shadowheart HC's, by Popular Demand (3 ppl).

I've long said this, but Shadowheart doesn't do jealousy. I think she's never had to. She grew up in the cloister- we know she mentioned having secret trysts or flings or w/e, but no serious relationships. She thought she was training to be a weapon, really. So...relationships- monogamy- I don't know if it ever crossed her mind? Probably not her scene.

Also, while I love her confidence, "I know I'm beautiful, but it's nice of you to say" etc. I think she's accustomed to suitors bending over backwards for her, but a lot of the time it was superficial- none of them knew her, it was purely physical.

All this to say: she's never had the inclination of being possessive of anyone, until...Tav.

Tav comes along with her stupidly tender touches and that look she gives Shadowheart, like she's the most resplendent being she's ever met. Shadowheart realizes she wants that all to herself forever. But Tav loves everything about her- her temper, her less than composed moments. For the first time in her life, Shadowheart's in love 💕

Shadowheart isn't oblivious- Tav is beautiful, she's going to get her fair share of attention. Tav's a people person, and she has a background in nobility- which meant a lot of schmoozing and cajoling. She has a way of enticing people- but unlike Shadowheart, she's never really weaponized it. She isn't really aware of how she draws people in (which pisses Shart off lol)

Most of the time, Shadowheart is content to let it happen. But for those lingering gazes on Tav? The way the barmaid touches her arm when she leans over suggestively to serve her? Nah Shadowheart is not standing for it! She will tilt Tav's chin and kiss her senseless in front of the entire tavern. If there are bedrooms (or perhaps even a hidden corner) Shadowheart is making use of them immediately.

Maybe it's a little residual Sharran domme energy in her, but Shadowheart expresses her discontent in the bedroom by marking Tav up. The camp pretends not to notice Tav's neck the next morning. (Tav fully encourages this behavior 😅)

The one subject that riles Shadowheart up every time: Tav's past in Cormyr. I won't mince words- Tav was a noble, pent up in her estate with stuffy rules, dying to live, bound for an arranged marriage she wanted no part of.... When Tav gets to Cormyr, she has a time. 👀 She might not be as experienced as Shadowheart, but she's certainly picked up a thing or ten in the near decade she was there.

If Tav has a "close friend" from her past in Cormyr that she references fondly every once in a while, whew...Shadowheart can't help but imagine who might have had her Tav wrapped around their finger.

Now, IF Shadowheart were to ever meet this friend, say she made it to the cottage for some ungodly reason:

Shart would obviously try to play it cool (She's too proud to admit she's jealous outright). Instead, she's draping herself across Tav, sitting on her lap, stealing kisses. She's generally very kind hearted now, but idk I can see her reverting back to her old ways for a bit. She’s definitely making some of those famous biting comments.

Tav tries to defuse it and keep her even keeled but sometimes it's so hard bc Shadowheart is pettyyyyy 😭💀

Tav: So, why don't we swap stories? Do you remember-

Shart: Yes, Tav, do you remember the night we bathed in the pools outside the House of the Moon and you spread my-

Tav: -Anyway, have you met Buttons?!

(I will try my best on the one shot but I have so many WIP's at the moment so maybe we can work it in elsewhere?)

#bg3 #shadowheart x tav #nls series #oc: serena tavyndír #anonymous #ask #my hcs

[simpfor141cod]

Copycat; Ghost pt.1

As an assassin, how would you go about trying to kill one of the most deadly men? You needed to draw him away from the rest of task force 141, you needed to get his attention- but how? Well, apparently the best way to get the attention of Ghost, is by pretending to be Ghost- what could go wrong?

contains: Angst, Assassin!Reader, suggestive themes, eventual smut, degradation, violence, knives, Ghosts ego, slow burn romance, ghost is weirdly turned on by you trying to kill him??

"Ghost? You want me to kill Ghost? You mean the guy that took out your entire squad by himself, that Ghost?" You couldn't believe your ears, running your hand through your hair, you were about to decline before the man on the other side of the phone speaks; "you are one of the best assassins on the market, are you not?" The mans voice growled, obviously not happy with your response. "Yes but its Ghost! of all people why hi-" you were cut off suddenly, "If you do this, you can be done with all the killing. We will let you go." What? There's no way they mean that, they've kept you here for ten years already, why the hell would they let you go now? It was going to be nearly impossible. Only one way to find out I guess. You probably wouldn't get another offer to leave. All or nothing. "I'll do it." --

You spend the next week gathering as much intel on the man as possible, which was a terrifyingly small amount. 'Ghost' '6'4" ' 'Known for his skull mask' 'extremely dangerous' You also had a few notes on taskforce 141's previous sightings/locations & allies. Great. Like you didn't know most of that already. You look at the tiny list that you had managed to get written down and sighed. You adjust the height of your training targets to his height, your jaw drops as you crane your head up. 'well shit.' You take a deep breath and massage your temples, why the hell did you accept? To go home. Your eyes harden as you remember your family, you had to do this. If not for yourself, for them. You had fought men his height before, some even taller. However, this was Ghost for fucks sake, the mention of the mans name is enough to stop an entire army dead in their tracks. You take a deep breath. "okay, so, I've got the limited intel available, now I just need to figure out how to get him to come to me, because there is no way I'm taking on all of taskforce 141.." you lingered on your own question for a while, debating the outcomes of different plans. ---- "THATS IT" you sit up in your bed, you were just about to fall asleep when an idea popped into your head, The only way to get his attention, and have him come to you: You would pretend to be him. Nobody liked being copied right?

Every other plan you had thought of before came to the same grizzly conclusion; Your imminent death. You just hoped that Ghost would be curious enough about a copycat that he wouldn't just kill you immediately. That brings you to where you are now, watching a movie-esque battle scene unfold Infront of you between a terrorist group and a gang. You had found out that taskforce 141 had been seen in the area recently, searching for the terrorist group currently fighting Infront of you, they had recently threatened to attack and overthrow the government- so they were on 141's radar. You watched as the two groups reached a sort of stalemate, gunfire ceased, so you made your way down to the ground from the rooftop, silently blending into the background.

For now. Unlike Ghost and even your usual self in this scenario, your goal was to be seen- at least by the other gang. You knew the opposing gang was a supplier of intel to 141, so they would immediately recognize Ghost. This also meant that if you didn't move now- the real Ghost would be there sooner or later. You made your way around to the back of the terrorist group, sneaking up behind one of the men, immediately taking out your knife and pulling him to the ground, quickly dispatching of him before he made any noise. This was easy work for you, after being an assassin for this long, there weren't many scenarios that made you nervous, but the thought of Ghost showing up to the 'party' with the rest of taskforce 141, had you wanting to kill these men and get the fuck out quickly. This was simply phase one of your plan, you needed Ghost to be interested enough that he'd seek you out alone, its the only way you could possibly beat him. You groaned softly, noticing how the weight of all of the gear Ghost would wear weighs you down, you had his look down pat, it was just the height that was the issue. If you wanted the gang to think you were Ghost, you were going to have to keep your distance from them, otherwise they'd know something was up. You made your way around the group, pulling them into the shadows one by one, it wasn't until the last one that you purposefully let yourself be seen, the man turned around and you could have sworn he nearly passed out when he saw the skull mask- he froze, letting you take advantage of his lack of movement. He briefly began to yell, quickly silenced as his body hit the ground with a thud, you wiped your knife off on his shirt before standing, "He really does strike fear into the hearts of men" You said almost baffled, but not entirely surprised. It wasn't long before you heard footsteps in the distance, a red dot appearing on your chest for a moment before a spotlight is on you from a distance. "Holy shit its Ghost?" "Who contacted 141?" "I was going to now but I guess someone already did" "I only sent for them about a minute ago.. how the hell did they get here so fast?" The men from the gang all seemed confused, it was going exactly as you planned. As they all talked amongst themselves, you took it upon yourself to slip back into the shadows, leaving the scene littered with your kills. 'Phase one complete" You reported back to your boss, finally removing the skull mask before abruptly ending the call, you had to get the hell out of the area, and fast. ---- "Copy. Thanks boys." Price looked over at Ghost suddenly, a confused look on his face. "Ghost" "Yes sir?" "Apparently we are no longer needed for that callout on the terrorist group, according to our intel, you already handled it" Ghost wasn't a man of many big reactions, so by the way his eyes widened Price started getting the gist of what was going on. "Well they seem pretty convinced it was you, it would appear you have a copycat. Skull mask and all." There wasn't much that surprised Simon anymore, especially not in his field of work, but this was new. The team agreed to go and look at the scene, all scouting the area for this 'copycat' incase they were still in the area. "Jeez, they certainly did a number on em' didnt they?" Soap announced, pushing one of the bodies over with his foot. A small grunt of agreement was heard from Ghost as he observed the patterns in the 'handywork' of whoever did this. "Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing." Price stated, pointing out how all the bodies bar one were hidden from sight in the shadows. "9 people, all with the same knife" Ghost stated, his brain working in overdrive trying to figure out who might be doing this. "So it was definitely just one person? Shit" Soap looked shocked, "This is easy work for us" Ghost sighed, not wanting to admit being impressed himself. "A copycat huh?" He mumbled to himself. ----- Hope you enjoyed, next part coming soon :) -yours

#call of duty #fanfiction #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost smut #ghost call of duty #cod fanfic #cod smut #simon ghost x reader

[magnorious]

Pixar’s Cars is still way better than people give it credit for

Am I writing an essay on a kids movie that fell out of relevance after the last sequel seven years ago? Yes. Is it my favorite background animated movie to put on whenever I’m working? Yes.

It goes without saying that Pixar’s catalog is still topped by movies like Incredibles, Toy Story 2, Up, Inside Out, Finding Nemo, Ratatouille, etc. Cars sat at the bottom of Pixar’s “best of” list until its sequel came out and people realized how bad Pixar movies could actually be.

But you know what? I love Cars. Is the story as deep and moving and profound as some of the others? No. But it was made with love and after what feels like the past 8 years of resounding “meh” coming from Hollywood and some of the most shameless cash grabs pretending they’re not, Cars remains my feel-good movie. It doesn’t have that classic Pixar “cry your eyes out” moment, no dead parents, no chosen ones, decently low stakes. It’s a good time, anytime.

Why I’m writing this now, though, is because of this: I knew already that the King and Chick were based off real racers, and Lightning’s “McQueen” is another homage, but I looked up if Doc was also based on a famous racer during my last rewatch and found this on Wikipedia:

Doc’s car model, the Hudson Hornet, was manufactured from 1951-1953 for its original run. In 1954, its manufacturer merged with another company and the Hornet was heavily remodeled to boost sales, only the popularity of the car never recovered. It stayed in production until ‘57. It was used in racing and that’s where Doc’s paint job in the finale draws inspiration.

But do you remember what his backstory is? 3 back-to-back Piston Cups from ‘51-’53, a crash in ‘54 that saw him rebuilt, and obsolescence upon his return.

People complain that they “didn’t need to be cars” in this movie. They’re not like the toys in Toy Story where the plot and message depends on them not being human. They’re not like the fish in Finding Nemo. They could have just been humans who drive race cars and it raises more questions than it answers.

You are wrong, Sir.

Doc’s backstory is why they had to be cars. They aren’t human because the story depends on them being machines – as Cars 3 explores more deeply. A human endurance runner can train to be the fastest, running against other humans with the same chances at success (ignoring steroids and socioeconomic opportunity). Humans aren’t running foot races against mutants or aliens where, no matter what we do, we will lose by nature of what we are.

Cars do. A car model is beholden to its manufacturing and all the complications that come with it. Cars are objects that, like toys, have obsolescence built into them. There is no “outdated” way to run a foot race.

So yes, Doc has a Tragic Backstory(tm) but it’s not just that he was some great master at the top of his game once that faded from glory like any human who got too old. He’s a car, and no matter how good he was, how many Piston Cups he won, the powers that be that made newer models with better mileage and efficiency and mechanics were always going to dethrone him.

The movie isn’t about him, though, it’s about another rookie. A rookie who lives life in the fast lane and thinks his time in the spotlight is never going to end when Doc can look at him and know exactly how wrong he is. Lightning is a race car too and, regardless of the existence of Cars 3, Lightning will also inevitably become obsolete no matter what he does to fight it.

I doubt the writers were going for this when they wrote it but that they’re machines is also a criticism of how we treat celebrities. Lightning is an entertaining story until the next shiny starlet emerges and, through no fault of his own, he’s kicked to the curb for the “new”. And that new will be cast aside for the next new and so on and so forth and the only winner is the greedy producer making money off their cash cow until they drain it dry.

Yes, the movie is about appreciating life and the things that you do have and “the friends we made along the way” but that they’re machines matters. Had they all been human, the movie would have lost half its message, and half the tragedy. If they were human driving cars, Doc wasn’t written with a disability so he could have, in theory, hopped back behind the wheel of a new car and still won against younger drivers. He’s not human, he’s a car, and he isn’t built to go as fast as newer models.

Age affects everyone, but a world made by machines that pits machines against other machines in an endurance test is inherently rigged when the machinery being tested can always improve.

It is unfortunate that both Doc and the King go out in wrecks (even though the poetry is nice) and the story doesn’t explore the existential obsolescence of being a machine designed to only do so well and be improved upon – even Lightning still has to wreck out of his big race in Cars 3 before he starts losing to the newer models.

But maybe having a Cars movie that does explore the existential obsolescence of a machine might have gone over kids’ heads. Or, maybe not? They pulled off some very mature themes in Incredibles with marriage problems and presumed infidelity that kids probably didn’t understand but still knew was not good for the characters.

Not to mention all the other wonderful details in this movie: The car-pun cities on all the license plates, the tire tracks in the sky and car-shaped natural phenomena, all the creative sponsoring brands on the racers.

How the “Life is a Highway” montage hits you over and over again with a straight road that cuts through the winding nature (the snaking river, the mountains sliced open to make room), industry that stops for nothing and scars everything in its path.

If you haven’t watched this movie in a while, do yourself a favor and find time to do so.

#disney pixar #pixar #pixar cars #cars

[yours-the-author]

Exactly one hour later...

So I saw this post by @hammerhead-art and thought; "that would be fun to draw... but no, I just posted something, I shouldn't". And then I saw it AGAIN... and I knew it was a sign.

So, despite just posting some CopperRight art, here's some MORE CopperRight art! The Toppat Chief and his watchdog:

Expectation vs. Reality

Please excuse the weird-shaped baseball bat Right is holding in the first picture- baseball bats are surprisingly hard to draw. Maybe we can pretend he hit someone with the stick end of a metal plunger...

Bonus picture under the cut! I hesitate to call it "risqué", but I'm posting it under Keep Reading just in case; I know some people are into this kind of thing.

...This would look so much cooler if the background weren't so blindingly white. I'd really like to be able to change the background color of my work into something more eyeball friendly, but my drawing process isn't much good for that sort of thing.

It'd be neat if I could figure out how to adjust the size of the picture on the post instead of leaving a bunch of white space around the art to make it more visible. This is supposed to look cool and slightly menacing, but it just feels a bit silly... oh well, what can you do?

Considering that I drew the base sketches with pen, though, I'm pretty pleased with how these came out.

#thsc #the henry stickmin collection #my art #gift art #copperright #the risque art is basically just right hand man with a collar #for those who were too nervous to look #I think it's pretty tame but who knows #I was originally going to have foam and spit flying out of his mouth in the second picture but it didn't look that good #draw the last picture in your style #jk unless #0-0 #dtiys #hey @hammerhead-art I hope you like this #thanks for the cool and epic idea

[lu-is-not-ok]

If you are still taking EGOs to analyze, have you done Sunshower / Drifting Fox?

I have not yet, so let's take a look!

Under the cut, wheeee~

Let's start with the Drifting Fox itself. Unlike most Limbus Abnormalities, for which you have to do some deep readings to recognise their themes, Drifting Fox spells out its themes quite clearly in its Observation Logs.

Here, we're dealing with the idea of feign kindness vs genuine kindness. Kindness done to make yourself feel good without thinking of whether or not it will actually help the one you're being kind to, vs kindness done because you genuinely care about the one you're being kind to.

Some other themes that can be read from this abnormality are abandonment, seeking affection, thoughtfulness behind one's actions (and lack thereof), and learned distrust.

Now, there is also the fact that Drifting Fox and its E.G.O, Sunshower, seem to have some inspiration in the Fox Rain folktale, which mostly revolves around unrequited love. However... There isn't much about Drifting Fox that seems to really connect to that theme at all. The most I can say about it is that the theme was twisted into one about the Fox struggling to accept love from others due to its bad experiences with people who pretended to love it for selfish reasons.

As such I won't really be using the folktale in the analysis, as while I'm sure some connections can be drawn between it and Sunshower E.G.O users, in my opinion they're not as important to character analysis as drawing connections to the Drifting Fox itself.

While we're talking about Sunshower E.G.O users, let's name them finally. Outis and Yi Sang. While Heathcliff uses a Lobcorp version of the E.G.O in one of his IDs, I won't be looking into it in this post because analyzing Identities is a very different process to analyzing E.G.Os, and one I'm still trying to polish. Maybe one day I'll be able to dip my toes into full ID analysis, but until then, E.G.O only.

With Yi Sang, we can definitely see Drifting Fox's themes here, especially with the context of Canto IV. After all, feign kindness is exactly what he experienced from Gubo after the League disbanded, an event that led to him feeling abandoned and distrustful of everyone but Sang Yi. Which, speaking of him, is the main person Yi Sang was seeking affection from during the time he was effectively abandoned.

Now, when it comes to Outis... We really don't know much about her or her background. However, I think one way the theme of feign kindness presents itself in her is, well, with how she acts. Outis's whole schtick is that she's pretending to be kind towards Dante, seemingly for her own benefit.

However... Something tells me it's not as simple as that. Thoughout the story, we get hints towards Outis's life. How she had to sacrifice a lot during her time on the battlefield, and hints towards some complex feeling regarding family she had to leave behind to join the war.

Does she believe she abandoned her family? Or, now that the war is over, does she think they had abandoned her in return? Is feign kindness something that only applies to her own actions? Or is it something she herself experienced as well, and had to learn how to use by herself to survive? She certainly feels like the distrusting type to me...

We don't know enough to say for sure right now, but it is certainly interesting to speculate about.

Let's move on to Sin analysis, as this is where something very interesting happens.

Sunshower is the first shared E.G.O we have that has Different Sin Damage depending on its user. This, of course, paints a very different picture of how these themes apply to each of its users.

Outis's Sunshower deals Gluttony damage. Gluttony is a Sin that represents actions done out of hunger, both hunger for survival and hunger for more. With what little we know about Outis, I think in this case we can firmly place this Gluttony as the survival type.

This implies that her own feigning of kindness is something she began doing as a way to survive what she has gone through, likely during the war and after it had ended. It could also symbolize her own distrust being a way to survive in the wake of other people feigning kindness towards her.

Yi Sang's Sunshower deals Sloth damage. Sloth is a sin that represents actions done out of apathy and inaction, which at this point is a Sin Staple for Yi Sang. This, of course, represents how he deals with feign kindness and abandonment - apathy and resignation.

When the League fell apart, Yi Sang resigned himself to following the guidance of whoever first told him what to do. When met with Gubo's feign kindness, Yi Sang responded with apathy, and resigned himself to following his orders because there was nothing else he thought he could do.

Sin requirements-wise, both Outis and Yi Sang require Sloth, Gluttony, and Gloom, while Yi Sang also adds some Pride on top of that. Let's take this one at a time.

For both Outis and Yi Sang, Sloth represents some form of resignation and/or apathy. This, of course, is extremely clear for Yi Sang, whose very character arc revolves around overcoming his depressive apathy. When it comes to Outis, I think this also applies, if in lesser amounts. Over the course of the war she participated in, she likely had learn to be complacent, to simply follow her leader's orders and not grow too attached to anyone.

Next up, Gluttony. Like with Sloth, I think this represents the same thing for both Outis and Yi Sang, that being that their actions were a way to survive the circumstances they were in. For Outis, it was the only way she could make it through the war, and the only way she can keep going after. For Yi Sang, it was the only way he could survive the League's disbanding and being captured by N Corp.

Then, we have Gloom. Gloom as a sin represents actions done under the pressure of negative emotions. It implies severe emotional stress. Knowing what we know about Outis and Yi Sang... Yeah. Yeah it makes sense for Gloom to be there. I don't think I need to go into too much detail on that.

Lastly, we have Pride for Yi Sang. Pride represents actions done purely for their benefit, while their consequences are ignored. This, I think, is meant to reflect the dilemma Yi Sang was going through during his time at N Corp. He had to do whatever Gubo was telling him to just to survive, and had to ignore the damage he would be indirectly contributing to by helping him.

Before we end off, let's briefly look at the dialogue lines.

Outis's lines are quite... interesting, in my opinion. Her Awakening line reflect the theme of rejecting feigned, meaningless kindness, which I think further affirms Outis's distrust towards others.

However, I think her Corroded line here is much more interesting. It seems to represent Outis's fear of being abandoned. Not only that, but it implies it's something that happened to her at least once before. Perhaps I wasn't that far off about the idea of Outis suffering through something herself that made her learn to feign kindness herself.

Yi Sang's lines on the other hand seem to be more focusing on his own inability to do anything about his situation. His Awakening line reflects his worries about not being able to truly help anyone, while his Corroded line seems to show him falling fully into hopelessness and lamenting over the situation only getting worse.

So, there you go! I might at some point later analyze Sunshower Heathcliff once I figure out a proper method to analyzing IDs, but that day isn't today.

#limbus company #limbus company project moon #outis #outis lcb #yi sang #yi sang lcb #sunshower ego #lcb analysis #lcb canto iv #lcb spoilers #ask #runn1ngn0se #lu speaketh

[lost-walmartbag]

Stan X Reader S2 Pt. 7

Warning: N/A

Background: Making a game plan and step one

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

'Game plan'

While you had no idea what you were doing and had no way of knowing if planning would help you at all you still decided, after your 4th glass of wine, to figure out the best course of action.

So here you are in the kitchen scribbling down things on the whiteboard on the kitchen. Kyle was watching you quietly trying to pretend as if he was fully understanding everything you were mumbling to yourself.

"Ok so." You said pointing to a stick figure drawing you made in the top corner. "This is Sarah."

"Yeah...um I can definitely see the resemblance," Kyle said in a deadpan voice.

"We do what's best for her always. So I wrote a five-step plan." You said tapping the end of your marker on the list string of words next to the number one. "Step one. I reach out to Stan and talk in private. I make sure he's good for Sarah to be around, we work around his schedule"

Kyle nodded and you continued on, so distracted you didn't feel him taking away your glass of wine.

"Step two. We slowly introduce Stan to Sarah but we don't tell her right away who he is."

"I trust your judgment but is that best?" Kyle asked raising a brow.

Your brows knit together as you look over at him. "Yes. Look I know Stan came all the way here the second he found out and that should prove how into this he is, but what if after two playdates he decides it all too much and disappears again? Then I have to explain to Sarah why her dad doesn't want her"

"He will want her though. There's no doubt about it. You know I have criticized Stan for years, but I'm vouching for him. How many times is she going to be with him until you tell her?" Kyle's voice was soft and while you know he didn't mean any harm by it, it stung a bit.

You let out a sigh and run a hand through your hair. "I was thinking a few months but now that you say it like that it sounds stupid."

You felt like a child who was just told by the teacher that the math problem they answered was wrong. Sure you weren't operating on your normal 100% sober mind but this plan was still good. But Kyle was right and you hated admitting it.

"If you think you should do it, do it." He said with a shrug and paused knowing what your answer would be, because that stupid look in his eyes was already there.

"Fine. Two weeks. Minimum." You said turning back to the board but even with your back turned you could hear him smirking. "Step three. They go on one outing alone together. After which we will ask Sarah what she thinks and if she comes back in one piece, he has my full trust."

"Sounds good," Kyle said with a nod. "What's four and five?"

"If Stan makes it past three, then we are going to lay down even more rules." You said biting the inside of your cheek, preparing to say what you want out loud. "I don't want him bringing other women around her."

"Why?" Kyle didn't sound curious when he asked it. It was more of a question he asked just to hear you say your answer out loud. Not because he didn't know it, but because he was making sure you did.

You take a shaky breath and look down at your feet, god you need to get your toes done. "I... I can't trust them. I don't know what they'll be like. What if they do stuff around her that I don't want to happen?"

"And?"

"...and what if Sarah likes being around them? What if Sarah likes them more than me and wants to be with Stan more and he ends up fighting for custody or something and wins because he has like a gorillion dollars and I still drive a crappy honda civic." You're a bit out of breath from pushing all of those words out as fast as you could, but Kyle still doesn't seem satisfied.

"And what if... Stan likes them? What he marries them and every time Stan gets to be alone with Sarah... they get to be a family together." You whisper as if it was some shameful secret you didn't want anyone to know about.

"OK," Kyle said, finally satisfied. "Step five?"

"Step five... we tell Sarah that Stan is her dad and she gets to choose how often they see each other." You said finally looking back at him.

He was watching you closely. It was humbling in a way, but when he gave a small smile and a thumbs up you knew he would support your plan. "So when do we start?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Ok, maybe this was a bad idea." You whisper to Kyle as you take a huge step back from the hotel room door. "You know I don't have good ideas when I'm drunk, why would you let me do this? Why are you encouraging this."

"I'm starting to understand why you never dated," Kyle said rubbing his temple. "Look you're a grown woman. Put on your big girl pants and knock already."

"He has to be sleepy I wouldn't want to bother him, plus what if he already checked out and isn't even here anymore and the second I knock an old man in his underwear comes out and starts yelling at me and-"

Before you could finish your rambling Kyle knocked on the door loudly and then ran down the hall, not even stopping to give you a second glance. You were frozen stuck in place and once your brain finally comprehended what was going on, the door was already opening. Maybe if you stand still he won't see you?

A sudden whiff of aftershave and mint hit you. Stan was standing there in a scratchy bathrobe, his hair wet and perfect water droplets dripping down his neck. His blue eyes ran down your body and then up to your face. He blinked a few times as you gathered the courage to say something.

"H-hey.."

SMACK

You look up seeing the moment his hand makes contact with his own face. You gasp and immediately start stroking his cheek. "Why the fudge would you do that?"

He stares down at you a small smile on his lips. "I'm not dreaming."

"You smacked yourself to see if you were dreaming or not? God, you're so dumb." You scolded gently pushing him into the room and closing the door behind you. "I swear do you think before you do anything?"

"Not most of the time, no." He said still staring at you with that stupid smile on his face. Suddenly his eyes widened and he gently grasped your shoulders. "Wait why are you here? Is everything all right? I-is Sarah ok? Does she need a kidney? I-i have two!"

"What? No. God just-" You said with an exasperated sigh. You guided him to his bed and sat him down.

He didn't seem thrown off by it. You could probably twist him like a pretzel and he'd stay that way until you told him to untangle. You took a step back and stood in front of him.

"We need to talk. Last time we got nowhere. This time Sarah isn't here so if you want to yell at me go ahead." You said closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm not going to yell at you. I'm sorry I did last time." You opened your eyes seeing Stan looking down at his hands in his lap as he continued. "I was angry. I was upset, but you're the mother of my child and I shouldn't have treated you that way."

He should apoligize, but why is this apology making your stomach cartwheel and move around like it's on an episode of Dance Moms? You rub your sweaty palms on your jeans and nod.

"I'm sorry too. It was a lot all at once and I don't blame you for being upset." You said softly looking down at the ground.

Everything the past few days has made you feel like a child and this doesn't help.

"I just want what's best for everyone. If that means getting on a plane and never stepping foot back here again, I'll do it." He said biting the inside of his cheek.

"I... I don't want that Stan. I want... I want to try to make this work." You said sitting down on the bed next to him and staring at the white wall across from you. "I was thinking last night. It would have killed me if Sarah looked at me and just... didn't know who I was."

"It was so hard. She's so big already." He said with a small sniffle and it just broke your heart.

"I'm so sorry Stan." You said in a shaky voice. "You would have been a great father and I had no right to keep that from you."

"I understand why you did. It's all my fault." He said and the floodgates immediately opened for both of you.

"You're here now and I want to make it right. You put your life on hold the second you found out and that means so much. For years I didn't know how you'd react and I was so terrified you wouldn't want us." You said trying to wipe as many tears as you could, but they wouldn't stop.

"There was never a day in my life where I didn't want you Y/N... and now with Sarah." He said choking on a sob. "I don't know if I could breathe without you both."

Grieving would be the best way to describe what's happening. You both lost so much. So much time together. So much time trying to function as anything that resembled a family. Every major first, Stan missed out on killed you but sitting here you can see he felt the same.

His hand reaches for yours and you don't stop him. As your fingers intertwine you know this is where they're supposed to be, filling in the gaps of his.

A/N: I'm sorry ok? I'm so burnt out but I really love doing these I just have no time. I'm trying to do better but I make no promises. I love you all so much thank you for being so patient you have no idea what it means to me. Especially @nwjn-z they are so sweet every time I come back. I literally love you sm. Thank you guys so much for reading I love every single one of you 🩵🩵🩵

Taglist: @jessiegerl @corpseinpink

#south park #south park x reader #fanfic #x reader #south park x you #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #stan marsh x reader #south park fanfiction

[miracleandplagueau]

So, here's a thing about Marinette.

She is a kind, rather cultured person, agrees to a lot of things, but also knows when to stand her ground and say no. The averagest of average protagonist models you can write with the exception of her obsessive personality trait. About Derision later, but she might possibly be one of the blandest characters I've seen in popular media

While watching Demon Slayer's finale yesterday, I realized something. Marinette is very much like Tanjiro. She can be both kind and badass when needed, be humble and be confident whenever the writers need her to be. Marinette is like Tanjiro -- written to be liked. She wasn't written to be unique or stand out from the crowd nor was she ever supposed to make a breakthrough in how to write a compelling protagonist to root for. She is a vessel. An empty vessel to watch in the background, because once you start analyzing her, it's over for your sanity

But why is she so hated then... She's so kind, so extremely helpful. A person everyone can get along with (famous people count too I suppose), but she also has her own frustrations like deal with brats who apparently targetted her as their victim for no apparent reason!! She has struggl-- It's nothing new. Look at it a little closer, go in depth and tell me that she has a consistent personality. She's more of a big pile of clay that the writers will model and shape according to their mood and how they want a certain storyline to end. Even Chat Noir has more consistent personality than her despite being neglected by both his own father and the writers. I guess more isn't always the merrier.

Is it actually hard to give YOUR PROTAGONIST a DAMN CONFLICT?! HER ONLY CONFLICT IS WHETHER SAYING "HI" TO ADRIEN WILL RUIN THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER. GIVE HER FLAWS GIVE HER CONSEQUENCES MAKE HER LEARN THE LESSON THE HARD WAY

Actually, I take it back. There is one conflict. Well, "conflict" or rather a turning moment for her is when she loses all miraculouses, which is followed by a nasty panic attack. That's it. That's all I could think of from the top of my head.

The only thing that really makes her stand out is her obssessive nature towards Adrien and we got some insight on why in the season 5 episode Derision and you know what I have to say about that? Fucking BULLSHIT. In a very short summary, Marinette crushed on Kim, but he humiliated her whilst working with Chloe. After that event, she decided she will only confess to someone when she knows them through and through. Putting aside the fact that we only then found out that Marinette had a friend that wasn't Alya, It's actually a total asspull in terms of Kim's behavior. Why would Marinette be friendly to Kim in Dark Cupid when he did something like THAT to her? Why is he potrayed as a funny, a little misguided himbo in the friend group - did nobody actually know about what's happened? I mean obviously they had to so why is everyone pretending like everything is fine? Why is SHE pretending everything is fine? Did she forget?! The answer is no, because Derision was not planned from the beginning. Thomas heard that his beloved protagonist isn't liked and went back to the drawing board to cook up some fake depth to her. Despite what I said, I'd actually love to see an episode like that, maybe Chloe IS the bitch we're lead to believe she is and I could've accepted it as a valid explanation to both Marinette behavior and her cruel, unchanging nature....

IF IT WAS IN SEASON ONE OR TWO

Putting a lore piece like that in the final season of the story is actually fucking ridiculous. Do you really expect me to care NOW?! When we're like 15 episodes from the FINALE OF THE SHOW? Na-ah, absolutely fucking not

Everytime I see a post praising Derision for how well written it is my stomach does a fucking cartwheel this is not an exaggeration

Marinette is like Zoe except Marinette is actually an asshole sometimes. It would be good If she was! I want to see an asshole protagonist where I'll have to see them change before I start rooting for them, but Marinette is neither changing, evolving or facing consequences. Using a miraculous for her personal gain and lashing out as Ladybug on Lila? it was a good fucking moment. I found it uncomfortable and embarassing to watch AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. IT HAD LONG LASTING CONSEQUENCES in form of Lila being a menance in return. Then again, I can't exactly praise Lila because she's equally as stupid- sorry, everyone's brains and common sense seem to evaporate when they're in Lila's closest proximity, but that's where they're similar. Everyone seems to lose their awareness when Marinette does her puppy eyes to break into a house too.

She is genuinely getting harder to watch and don't even get me started on season 5 because I've seen the leaks alright

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