#actually now that I think about it it’s kind of like writing cursive

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

drawing Eph’s hair has a really calming effect on me (especially when I’m drawing it long). It’s like how some people draw mandalas to feel more relaxed

#roadie rambles #I love it most when I’m just casually doodling and I just let my hand do all the work #the scribbly fluff #actually now that I think about it it’s kind of like writing cursive #(which /also/ relaxes me!) #neato

[myerssimp21]

Knife's Canvas (Pt. 1)

Yandere Poly!Ghostface x Reader

warnings: mention of torture (not reader), planned stalking.

prompt inspired by @jadedstarlight03 's prompt to @creepyyanderegirl on yandere stu with artistic reader. I liked it and took my own spin with it since I simp for Billy too.

"I admired your sketch!"

The cursive note, adorned with a smiley face, stared back at you, earning an A+ grade on your inaugural in-class creative writing assignment at Woodsboro High. As a newcomer, you had hoped your depictions of characters like Garfield and Scooby Doo would endear you to the teachers, and it appeared they did. Sketched in red pen and colored with pastel pink highlighter, your drawings grinned up at you, surrounded by tiny glitter hearts.

"Oh, those are wicked!"

The cute blonde girl seated behind you leaned over your shoulder, her minty breath fanning into your face as she praised, "Do you draw a lot? Did you do those in class? It's pretty fast if you did."

"Yeah! I started doing art last year, but you get better and faster with practice," you replied with a warm smile, eager to make your first friend. "I think these took about 3-4 minutes each."

Your face warmed as she leaned closer, her chest lightly pressing against your back as she inspected your paper. She pointed to the little hearts, "Those are so cute!" Her approving face turned toward you as she introduced herself, "I'm Tatum."

"I'm ____," you replied, pleased to make introductions effortlessly. The teacher's allowance for 5 minutes of free time before class's end was a welcome opportunity for socializing.

"You should join my friends and me after our next class for lunch; maybe some of us will be in your classes!"

"That would be so nice," you said, relief evident in your voice. "I'm honestly pretty shy, so making friends can be intimidating."

Her dazzling smile accompanied her words, "Perfect! If you have Chemistry next with Mr. Scott, I'll show you where it is if you don't already know."

"Um," you leaned down to your backpack, sifting through your new student documents to find your schedule. "Oh, it's actually history with Ms. Johnson."

"Hmm," Tatum leaned back, crossing her legs as she thought. "I think Billy has that class. Maybe if you leave a little early, you can catch him. He's the guy with the, uh," she seemed to struggle for words, "grunge hairstyle? I think he's wearing a dark red t-shirt today if that helps. He's a little grumpy sometimes, though, so if you're too nervous or he's mean, we'll look for you at lunch."

The bell rang, and students not already congregating by the door got up to leave. You neatly tucked your graded paper into its designated folder and stood, slinging your backpack over your shoulder as Tatum rose in tandem.

"I'll try!" you said with a giggle, even though meeting Billy made you nervous. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Tatum said, pulling a pack of gum from her bag and offering you a piece before you left. "I think your next class should be in that building, right? I’m not sure if you had it yesterday or if it’s a Tuesday-Thursday class."

Thanking her again, you made sure your Discman had the CD you liked the most before connecting your headphones and heading off in that direction. You'd only have a few minutes of music, but it was worth it!

After finding your next class, you lingered around the door since you were early, hoping to at least place who Billy was from Tatum's description. After a moment of trying to not look awkward as you stood around, you spotted him.

He did have a grungier hair style, reminding you of a movie star you'd seen on TV recently. It threatened to fall in his eyes as he stalked towards the door, a bored look on his face. Now that you noticed him more, it was hard to ignore that he had a pretty face. Trying to not overthink it now that you realized you thought he was kind of cute, you pulled your headphones down from your ears until they hung around your neck as he came closer to the class.

When he noticed you looking at him as he drew closer, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, the scowl on his face deepening and making you feel even more nervous.

"Hi," you said somewhat sheepishly, "I'm ___. I'm new and met Tatum in my last class. You must be Billy."

His eyebrow raises and his eyes soften, but the scowl remains, “Oh?”

“Yeah…” you trail off a little, unsure of what to say since his response was sort of dry, “I’m from the more southern part of the state and we moved up here for my dad’s new job. I hear you guys experience the seasons up here so I’m excited to see them! The leaves never change in the fall where I’m from.”

His dark brown eyes have been boring into yours as you speak, making your face feel warm for the second time today. They dart down to the folder in your hands and he smirks as he says, “That’s cool.”

For your history folder, you’d tried to paint torsos and busts like the ancient historic statues from Greece and Rome you’d seen in a National Geographic magazine on the cover. They were naked torsos, but you had tried to make the nipples on the women look less prominent to avoid getting into trouble. If you had any sense, you’d have depicted something else to entirely avoid the possibility of getting into trouble, but you’d gotten irritated at the idea of censoring art.

“Oh, thank you! I hope I don’t get shit for the nudity, but I guess I could probably give them all clothes if I need to.”

He nods towards the classroom and you notice the hallways are getting quieter, “We should head in. There’s a couple empty seats near me.”

Ms. Johnson's strategy to get the kids interested in history was to start with the brutality of the medieval age, it seemed; with diagrams of the torture methods they created being the highlight of her second class after syllabus day.

The history class, guided by Ms. Johnson's unwavering enthusiasm, delved into the unsettling corners of medieval history. As the lesson progressed, she took a moment to present an image of a haunting artifact, projecting it onto the screen for the entire class to see.

"Now, can anyone tell me what this is?" Ms. Johnson asked, gesturing to the screen. It was a grotesque device, an iron contraption with a cold, heartless design. Sharp spikes protruded inward, forming a cage around the wearer's head. The unsettling silence lingered as the class peered at the image, growing discomfort palpable.

To everyone's surprise, ____ confidently raised her hand, her eyes betraying an unexpected depth of knowledge.

"It's called the Scold's Bridle," she answered, her voice steady. "An oppressive device designed to silence women who dared to speak their minds. The spikes prevented any speaking, ensuring their voices remained stifled."

Billy arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "How do you know about that?"

____ shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on her lips. "I read a lot. History isn't just about dates and battles; it's about the struggles people faced, especially women, and respecting the challenges they went through."

Billy's skepticism softened as he nodded slightly. "Guess history is more twisted than we think."

____ leaned towards him slightly, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes and made his spine tingle slightly, "Oh, you have no idea."

"Ah, ____," Ms. Johnson said with genuine admiration and ____'s attention snapped back to her, "Impressive knowledge there. I'm eager to see your thoughts on this in more detail, perhaps in an essay. It's always refreshing when students connect with the material on a deeper level."

"Now, let's delve further into the complexities of medieval society. How these devices were not only instruments of physical torment but also symbolic of the societal norms of the time."

The lesson continued, and ____ slowly flipped through her sketchbook to find a fresh page, seemingly reviewing her previous art briefly as she did so. Billy faced the board, but his eyes were turned downward, toward ____'s hands. He caught a glimpse of previous drawings – a mix of cartoon characters and a few creepier depictions.

Angry faces splattered with red marks resembling blood and figures wearing intimidating masks (or just freaks with the scariest faces ever) caught his eye. Intrigued, he discreetly watched as she began absentmindedly sketching the torture devices described in class as she listened, switching out her pens to smear red ink on them. He caught his scoff before he uttered it when he realized she was drawing the devices in glitter pens, her eyes flickering from the images on the screen to back down at her paper.

He must have been too obvious, leaning in too closely or being too pointed with his staring now because she had flipped to a fresh page and locked eyes, an unreadable expression across her face. There was a pause before she tucked her sketchbook into her bag and turned her attention back towards the board.

Billy felt a mischievous idea forming in his head as he let his eyes linger on her, knowing she could probably see him staring in her peripheral. If she wasn't thrilled about him seeing her portfolio, perhaps there was more hiding in that sketchbook than just cutesy cartoons. It could be amusing for him and Stu to explore her place once they found out where she lived, hunting for more art she wasn't ready to showcase while they scoped out their new potential victim. If the glimpses of what he saw when she had flipped through it implied there was anything more beneath her vanilla exterior, Billy was confident that he and Stu could uncover it.

As the bell rang, she turned to him with what he'd call friendly eyes, the strange demeanor now gone, "Are you hungry or what? Is the cafeteria food at Woodsboro High edible or would I be better off hunting a bird?"

He huffed, "You'd be better off starving." Nodding towards the door, he started towards it, hardly waiting for ____ to collect her bag, "Maybe Randy will be enough of a simp to offer you whatever his mommy made for him."

Noticing the disdain Billy seemed to have for Randy's mother but feeling too tentative about the potential for conflict to ask more about it, ____ decided to leave it alone and hurry after him into the now bustling hallway.

#yandere ghostface #yandere stu #yandere stu macher #yandere billy loomis #yandere loomis #yandere!ghostface #yandere!stu macher #yandere!billy loomis #yandere!slasher #yandere slasher #fanfic #scream 1996 #artist!reader #poly ghostface #poly!slasher #ghostface smut #billy loomis x reader #yandere x reader #slasher x reader #horror x reader #poly ghostface x reader #scream x reader #scream smut #yandere male #poly yandere #yansmut #yandere fanfiction #sidney prescott #tatum riley #billy loomis

[lilyrizzy]

sorry to post so much everyone, promise i will resume to writing fic only like, once every three months after this lol

“That is a very nice watch, Max.”

It’s Victoria who is the first to notice it, the two of them sat out on his and Daniel’s balcony, the August evening warm. Between them are two empty bottles of wine and a quarter full bottle of gin. Inside, her babies are sleeping on the pull out beds, and Daniel has taken Tom into their ‘hobby room’, where Max’s sim lives also, to show him the newest addition to his camera collection. Apparently the one Tom had been using to document their children as they grow died a smoky death last week, losing all the photos of baby Lio in the process.

“Daniel got it for me,” is all he says, glancing down at his wrist.

It’s Tag Heuer of course, because Max has to wear those kind with the sponsorship rules, but this one is much nicer than the big flashy ones he usually gets for free. More you, Maxy, Daniel had explained nervously when Max opened the box to see it for the first time. A classic, smooth black leather strap instead of the usual shiny silver metal, the face a little smaller, round. In the middle, where the two hands of the clock meet, a tiny little diamond that you can only see if you look close enough, like a secret. The real secret is, of course, the inscription on the back, the engraved cursive words, for my world champion.

It’s so lovely. Max hates it a little bit.

Victoria lets out a laugh that bounces loudly through the too-still night air.

“Oh no,” she says, voice teasing. “You do not like it?” When he looks up from where he’s been staring at it, her eyebrows are raised.

Max has had maybe a little too much to drink, if he’s letting his complicated feeling about the watch show on his face, but it is the summer break of course, so it’s okay, and this is his sister. Maybe he can tell her what he is sometimes too afraid to think about on his own.

“I like it,” he insists, “but-“

“Max it is okay,” she says with another laugh, her cheeks bright pink from the wine she has drunk. She says it like she is trying to help him by telling him how he feels. “Sometimes they do not always get these things right, yes? The nice thing is that they try.”

But that isn’t it. This isn’t like the time Tom brought Victoria a pair of shoes for her birthday and she had telephoned Max to ask unhappily, “do I look like the type of person who would wear Michael Kors,” like Max was supposed to know who that was. Daniel is good at presents. He is very good at making Max happy.

“I do like it,” he tries again, a little defensive now on Daniel’s behalf. His words slur together a little, and without realising it, he’s switched back to Dutch. “It is lovely, I- It even has something written just for me on the other side, so of course it is special, I just- I thought-“

He thinks back to that night, two weeks ago now, the first of summer break that they got to be alone together. The first of their break, five nights to spend in some outrageously flashy Ibiza villa that Daniel booked, 120 hours stretching out in front of them, almost too sweet like toffee.

By the pool, laughing together, as they twirled pasta around their forks. Daniel had made it for Max, one of his ‘sabbatical projects’, to get better at cooking. That way you can hire me as your chef Maxy, if I don’t get a seat, yeah? It was so nice because the rich tomato sauce almost tasted the same as Max’s favourite kind of soup, and when Max had told Daniel that his face had gone all soft the way Max loved to see it, like he’d said all the right words in the right order.

“I’ve got something for you actually,” Daniel had said then, and he’d leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth before getting from his chair to go and get his present.

When he’d come back with a black box and a shy, nervous smile on his face, Max’s heart had fluttered like there was a bird inside his chest, beating it’s wings against his ribcage. Daniel wanted to-

But then it had been a watch.

Looking at Victoria now, he can feel the wonky line his attempt of a smile makes of his mouth.

“For a moment, when he gave it to me,” he explains, thumbing over the smooth glass of the watch face, “I thought it was- I thought, maybe, a different kind of jewelry.”

It takes a few seconds for realisation to spread across his sisters features, but when it does it doesn’t make him feel any better the way he’d hoped it would to share this.

“Oh Max,” she says, reaching for his hand across the table, and he wants to recoil at her pity, “I did not- I did not even know that was something you wanted.”

Which to Max, seems like a silly thing to say, because of course it’s what he wants. He and Daniel have been together for so many years now, why would he not? It’s what you do when you love each other and want to be together always. He’d thought, maybe, now Daniel was happy again and not racing, but-

“Maybe it is not what Daniel wants,” he says with a shrug, but just saying the words out loud make his eyes sting and his throat ache. He is probably just too drunk for this conversation.

Victoria hums, like she is thinking. Over the balcony, Max can see the shimmer of the moon bouncing off the sea. His face feels so hot suddenly, like he is melting, and he imagines diving into the cool water.

“Have you two ever spoken about this?” Victoria asks, and Max just shakes his head, not looking at her. “Then how can- How can you know he does not want to? Why- You could always ask him too, you know.”

She’s right, of course. It’s just- Max doesn’t know how to explain it. That he wants it to be simple, for Daniel to want Max so much that he can’t stand to not ask him. That Max is afraid if he is the one to ask, Daniel will say yes just because he wants to give Max what he wants, and not because he wants Max.

Behind him, he hears laughter, the sound of footsteps, and Victoria’s face looks up, worried, to the sliding glass door behind him. It opens. Max wipes his eyes quickly, feeling even more foolish than before as Daniel runs a hand through his hair, presses his cheek into the top of his head, just as drunk as the rest of them and asks, “what are you two gossiping about then?”

#i scrolled for so long in my ask box seeing if there was an ask prompt this could answer but #i wrote this silliness all by myself lol #anyway there is a sequal! in my brain! where they acc are adults and talk about this and everything gets resolved if anyone is interested #but for now there is only angst lol im sorryyyyyyy #fic #max/daniel

[anniemika]

Lost and Found

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Chapter 11: Consequences

Chapter summary: Realizing the damage he’s caused, Eren learns about the life he has missed out on and tries to reflect on his mistakes, with a few bumps accompanying him along the way.

Chapter warnings: explicit language, aggression, mentions of blood

Words: 4.4k

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

…..

That night, Eren couldn't sleep. All he could think about was you and the encounter you two had the day before. Well, not that he spent his time thinking about much else before, but now he found someone else nestled inside his mind.. Lily. He tried to focus on a song he’d been writing for some time, go to the gym, do anything to distract himself. But no matter what he did, his mind kept coming back to the two of you.

When morning came, he realized he couldn't take it anymore. He had to see you again, talk to you, find out if what he’d been wondering about was true. He knew that it was a risk, that you might not want to see him, but he had to try. He couldn’t just go straight to your house, though. He didn’t even know if you lived there anymore.

But anyway, who would tell him anything about you? He was sure that many people were aware of what happened all those years ago, the whole ugliness of it. It wasn’t a big town, and there was no way anyone would tell him any kind of information regarding you. People loved you, and he was sure no one gave jack shit about him.

The only person that could tell him anything was his dad, although he didn’t know if you kept in touch with him after all that had happened. Nevertheless, he was going to ask.

He knew that Grisha was at work at the hospital, but he couldn’t wait a minute longer. He dialed his father’s number while nervously pacing around in his hotel room.

The moment he picked up, Eren was on it, “Hey, dad. Listen, sorry to call you at work, but I need a favor to ask.”

“Okay,” his father said, a little taken aback by the urgency in his son’s voice, “What is it?”

“I saw Y/n yesterday.”

His father went quiet, and Eren knew why. He couldn’t even imagine the shame his dad must’ve felt when it all happened.

“And I know you probably think that I shouldn’t bother her, but I really need to just talk to her. To at least have the chance to apologise properly.”

Grisha stayed silent for a little while. But then, much to Eren’s surpirse, “I think that’s a good idea.”

The younger man furrowed his brows in confusion, not expecting his father to agree so easily, “Really?”

“Yes, really. She owns a flower shop downtown. It’s on Saint John’s street, first corner on the right. It closes around 6p.m.”

Eren couldn’t believe his father was actually supporting him in this. He quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper to write the address on it, “Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it.”

“Be gentle with her, Eren. It’s the least you could do. That girl has gone through a lot.”

Eden nodded, even though his father couldn’t see him, “I will, I promise. Thanks again.”

In a flash, he put his phone inside his leather jacket, put his black combat boots on, tied his hair in a messy bun, and went out the door. He knew that it was probably best not to disturb you at work, but how could Eren explain to you that waiting would drive him completely nuts? How could he explain that he’d been waiting for so long, his body wouldn’t allow another minute to pass by without him taking action? His heart pounded like it wanted to jump out of his rib cage as he drove like a complete madman, acting on pure adrenaline. He knew he had to calm down before meeting you, but the emotions he felt were just too strong to hold down.

After he parked his car down the street from the given address, his eyes went to a periwinkle sign a few meters from where he was standing. “Lily’s flowers”, it read in elegant cursive writing, that drew a tiny smile across his face.

Eren couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Facing his past was something so distant before, like a dream that was never going to happen, even though he desperately wanted it too. But now, as he stood outside the shop, there was a glimmer of hope blooming inside his heart.

He took another deep breath and pushed the door open. The sweet scent of roses and lilies filled his senses as he looked around your workplace with awe. The shop was small, but cozy, with colorful bouquets arranged in vases on every surface. The walls, adorned with beautiful floral paintings, added to the ambience of the shop. They were painted in soft pastel shades, providing a soothing backdrop for the vibrant colours of the flowers. It was breathtaking.

And then, behind the counter, arranging a colourful bouquet, were you. Dressed in a simple white tee and a floral apron, you were still too beautiful to be true.

“Good morning, how can I help yo-“, when you brought your head up and saw him standing before you, your mouth fell slack.

"Hi," Eren spoke, his voice low and unsure.

He saw your face go through a few different emotions in the span of seconds, first surprise, then a mix of nervousness and vexation, "What are you doing here?"

Eren took a step closer to you, but he didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly, a child’s giggle was heard and Lily appeared from behind you, holding a pretty flower in her hand. She ran in front of the counter, almost bumping into Eren’s leg.

"Mommy, look! It's the man from the grocery store!", the little girl exclaimed, pointing her tiny finger at him.

Eren looked down at her, a knot tying inside his throat. Now that he could really see her up close, it was undeniable. Her brown hair, her eyebrows, her radiant teal eyes.. the signs were all there, "Hi there. Lily was it?”

"Mhm!," she replied with a smile.

Eren knelt down next to her level,

“You’re as pretty as a lily, Lily.”

She let out the cutest little giggle, “That’s what my mom tells me.”

"Lily, honey, why don't you go outside and play for a bit?" You said, visibly trying to compose yourself.

“Okay. Bye.” She waved her hand at Eren, but before she could go, he stopped her.

“Just a second, Lily.” The little girl turned back to him, her eyes wide with curiosity, “How old are you?”

“I'm six and a half, but all my classmates tell me that I look smaller, and that really annoys me!”

Eren’s smile disappeared. Six and a half.. which meant-

“Go on and play, honey.” You pressed on, voice trembling.

Lily nodded and ran outside, leaving Eren alone with you and the silence.

When he rose from his position, his eyes turned to you, and when he saw the way you avoided his gaze, with tears brimming your eyes, he just knew.

"Why are you here, Eren?"

"I...I wanted to see you. I've been thinking about you a lot lately," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh,” he could hear the lump inside your throat from trying to fight the tears, “how nice of you.”

Eren cautiously moved closer to the counter,

“Do you think we could perhaps.. talk?”

Your hands were shaking, and you just hoped he wasn’t near enough so he could see them.

"Eren.. I really don’t know how you have the nerve to come here after everything.” You always knew that seeing him again would stir up old feelings that you had buried deep down, but this was too much.

Eren felt like he could let the whole world swallow him, "I.. I know."

You shared a look with him. Seeing those eyes again was like diving into a pool of memories, each one flooding back with a force that made your heart ache.

“Y/n, I'm so sorry-”

“No.” You’re quick to silence his attempt, “No, no, you can't do this right now. I'm working.”

“Please, just.. Just give me 2 minutes-”

“Two minutes!?” You raised your voice, hot tears threatening to spill again, “Two minutes.. Is that going to sum up years of.. of-”, the frustration you felt couldn’t be described with words. You were helpless, and at the same time, desperately trying to find the words. You hated how weak you looked right now.

Turning around, you tried to distract yourself by fixing the stems of a few red roses, “You should go.”

Eren didn’t know what to do. On one hand, the last thing he wanted was to upset you this much. On the other.. he needed to ask. If he didn’t do it right now, he’d probably go insane.

“Y/n..”, he said your name cautiously, “Lily.. Is she mine?”

You froze in place. You couldn’t bare to look at his face right now, or you’d probably faint, “What?”

“I'm sorry, I just really need to know. Please.” Eren thought he could go into cardiac arrest soon, “Is she mine?”

Silence fell like a heavy weight, suffocating, as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving a vacuum of soundlessness that pressed down on you both.

And then, with your back still turned against him, you spoke quietly, “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Seconds turn into hours, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. It was true. Hearing it from you just cemented it in stone. Lily was his.

Before Eren could open his mouth to say something, a doorbell ring was heard throughout the shop.

“Good morning!” An elderly woman greeted.

“G-good morning!” You swiftly wiped your eyes, before turning and sending a final look his way, “You have a nice day, sir.”

Eren stood there, staring at you helplessly. He knew he had to leave, but god help him, that was the last thing he wanted to do. All he wanted was to just whisk you away and talk, tell you how fucking sorry he was, how much of a piece of shit he was.

But he knew that wasn't possible right now. You were at work, and he knew he’d made it hard enough as it was. He had to go.

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave, emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he walked away. When he reached the door, he turned back to steal one last glance of you. You were talking to the older woman, happily showing her different kinds of flowers, like the previous conversation never happened.

The thought of you putting on a brave face and hiding your pain from the world, and him knowing he was the reason for that, made his heart sink with much earned guilt.

…..

Eren replayed your conversation in his mind throughout the whole day.

Over, and over, and over again.

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

He wanted to punch a wall. Or better yet, himself.

He could only imagine the hardships you must’ve gone through, raising a child alone at nineteen years old, while he was touring and drinking and living his life. A life that was definitely not worth living. Not knowing that you were pregnant.. not knowing just how much you needed him. Thinking that leaving you was the best option for you both.

Hatred. That was the feeling Eren felt for himself.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you’d realized that Lily didn’t need a person like him in her life. A fucking failure of a person.

Lily…

She was so beautiful. And she looked so much like him, it was insane. But her smile.. her smile was yours. So infectious, it lit up the entire room and filled his heart with warmth. Just like you did.

Eren wondered if you were ever going to smile at him like that again.

He buried his face in his hands as he laid on the uncomfortable hotel mattress. His eyes were hot with tears, and he bit his lip in an attempt to stop a sob from escaping.

What the hell was he going to do?

“Fuck you, Eren.” He cursed audibly. He needed someone to scream at him, and he needed that person to be you. He wanted you to let out all the anger and frustration he knew you were feeling towards him. He longed to hear you yell at him, to let him know just how much he had hurt you. The need to take it all in was enormous, to feel the weight of his mistakes and the suffering he had caused. Knowing it wouldn’t be easy, he was ready to face it all if it meant that there was a slight chance he could still make things right with you and Lily.

The beeping of his phone interrupted his thoughts, and he reluctantly pulled his attention away from his inner turmoil to check the notification. It was his dad. He was inviting him to dinner.

As much as Eren wanted to get a bottle of whiskey and just drawn himself in his sorrows, he knew he needed to tell Grisha what happened. He needed to tell him that he had a granddaughter, who was living just mere minutes away from him.

As he drove to his father’s house, his mind was spinning with all the possible outcomes of the impending conversation. Would his father be angry? Would he be happy? Would he even believe him? Or.. did he know already? No. He would’ve told him. There was no way he would keep that kind of information from him.

As he came closer to his old home, his anxiety only grew, but he knew that he had to push it through.

Finally, when he saw the white picket fence his father and him painted all those years ago, he inhaled deeply, and walked to the front door. Before he could knock, his father had already opened it.

“Eren,” Grisha said, a little surprised, “that was fast.”

Eren clenched his sweaty palms, “Dad, we need to talk.”

His father nodded, “We sure do.”

…..

“Made your mother’s favourite,” Grisha told his son while holding a ceramic dish with his oven mittens, positioning it at the center of the dining table. But that comment fell on deaf ears. Eren’s foot was bouncing nervously under the table, while his mind was preoccupied with how best to serve the news. With the intent to calm his nerves down, he tried to focus on the present moment.

“That looks delicious, dad.” He said, trying to sound casual, “Thanks.”

Grisha gave his son a small smile, but he could tell that something had happened today. It was written all over his face.

After plating the food, his father finally took a seat. He then positioned both elbows on the table, looking Eren straight in the eyes.

“So.. how’d it go?”

This was it. He had to tell him now.

Eren fixed his posture before clearing his throat, “Dad, I.. I have something to tell you.”

Grisha didn’t speak, hiding the lower part of his face in his hands.

“Y/n, she.. she has a kid. I suppose you already know that. I met her today.” His fingers were trembling, “Dad, that kid.. she’s mine. That’s-“, he cleared his throat again, already fighting back tears, “That’s my daughter.”

The older man’s face was unreadable, which made Eren’s heart pump even more rapidly. Bracing himself for his reaction, he watched as the older man lowered his hands, revealing an impassive expression.

“She has your mother’s eyes, don’t you think?”

The words sank in the younger man’s years, but his mind couldn’t grasp them.

And then, it dawned on him.

“Wait-“, his mouth became dry, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

His father turned his eyes on the meal in front of him, mixing it around with his fork.

“So.. you knew.” Eren’s disappointment was painted all over his face and voice.

After taking a bite of his food, Grisha looked up at his son, “Of course I knew.”

Eren’s confusion bubbled up like a boiling pot of water that was dangerously close from spilling. He couldn’t fathom how his father wouldn’t tell him as soon as he first saw him. As if there was anything more important than telling him he had a whole kid.

“Why.. why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His voice raised with every word.

“Do not curse at me, boy.” Grisha’s tone turned stern as he laid his fork beside his meal, his dark eyes fixed on his son, “You think we didn’t try to tell you? You think we didn’t blow your phone up? Guess what, you never picked up. And then,”, his voice grew quiet, “when she was born, I drove to one of your concerts. Nobody believed I was your father, but I somehow managed to persuade one of the bouncers to let me see you.”

Eren’s heart skipped beat after beat, failing to remember any of what his father was telling him.

“You told me to go away. I don’t think you could even comprehend what I was telling you. I don’t know what you were on.. but the guy I saw in that dressing room wasn’t my son.” The finality of Grisha’s words felt like a knife being stabbed inside his son’s heart, “Lily deserved better than that guy.”

The shame Eren felt was overwhelming. The need to let his anger out was so immense, his whole body began to shake. Without saying another word, he stormed out of the dining room, grabbed his keys, and left the house.

When he got inside his car, his fist repeatedly slammed against the stirring wheel.

“Fuck!”

After all this, he knew what he needed. A drink, and he needed it bad.

…..

The building of the old bar was aged and weathered, with a peeling paint and a faded sign that read “The Dusty Boot”. The windows were grimy and the door creaked as Eren pushed it open.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. The walls were lined with old photographs and memorabilia from the town’s glory days, while the bar itself was made of dark wood and looked scarred from years of use.

Still, it felt like home.

Eren sat down on one of the stools, the weight of today’s emotions pressing down on him hard. His head hurt, and he was tired, more tired than spending a whole day on stage. The bartender, an old man with a bushy white beard he remembered from years ago, approached him.

“What can I get ya, son?” He asked while his hands were busy wiping a pint glass with a cloth.

“Just a beer.”

The old man nodded and pulled out a cold bottle of beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off and placed it in front of Eren, “Tough day?”

Nodding once, he took a sip of the cold liquid. The man seemed to understand, so he just continued cleaning glasses, occasionally glancing over at him. The bar was quiet, with only a few patrons scattered around the room. Hushed old country music played in the background, adding to the calm atmosphere.

Eren drank beer after beer, trying to rid himself of some of the guilt he felt, even if only for a little bit. After a few rounds, he understood that it was a task impossible. His thoughts were like little needles prickling at his heart and brain, and the alcohol he consumed only seemed to magnify them.

He thought.. He though about so many things, and they all concerned you. He wondered about what had gone on right after he left you. How alone you must’ve felt, how betrayed. He thought about his dad, and how helpless he must’ve been, knowing you were suffering because of his son. He cursed himself inwardly for storming off earlier, but had he stayed, he would’ve probably said things he didn’t mean. Let anger out that wasn’t directed at anyone else but himself. Anger that only he deserved.

“Hey, aren’t you the singer from that band?” The bartender asked after some time, pulling Eren from his somber thoughts. Great. That was all he needed right now. Usually, he didn’t mind people asking him about his career, but tonight he was hoping to stay unbothered. “Yes you are. Eren Jaeger, was it?” The old man continued, “Grisha Jaeger’s son. Been a long time since I’ve seen you hang around here.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been home.” Eren replied, keeping his tone neutral.

“My daughter, she’s sixteen-“, the bartender continued, much to Eren’s dismay, “she’s a big fan of yours. She’d be so stoked if she knew you were here.”

Eren managed a small smile. “That’s nice to hear.”

“Hey, uh..”, the man reluctantly began, catching onto Eren’s reluctance to talk about his fame, “do you think maybe you could sign an autograph for her? If it’s not much trouble.”

Eren hesitated for a moment, but before he could agree, a voice was heard from somewhere behind him, “Now, are you sure your daughter needs an autograph from a man like him, chief?”

Eren became rooted in place as he recognised the voice of the man who was now standing inches beside him. A man with whom he once shared a friendship.

“Well, well”, there was amusement, but also hostility in his tone, “look what the cat dragged in.”

Eren swallowed another sip of his beer, then, without having much option, turned to inspect the man the voice belonged to.

Jean Kirstein. He was different than Eren’s last memories. Tall as ever, his ashy-brown hair was now slicked back and at his nape. He had a bit of a goatee, but still the same annoying smirk that Eren remembered all too well. It was a smirk that conveyed both confidence and arrogance, as if he knew something that Eren didn’t.

“Jean,” the green-eyed man nodded in greeting before turning back to his drink.

“Eren. Long time no see.” Jean sat on the stool next to him, ordering a drink of his own. “I heard you’d come back a few days ago.”

“Yeah?” Eren kept his tone casual, but guarded.

“It’s a small town. Didn’t believe it at first.” He could see Jean take a swig of his drink with the corner of his eye, “I thought “What would the great Eren Jaeger be caught doing in a place like this?” A place he so desperately wanted to run away from.”

Eren’s grip on his beer tightened, body tensing. Despite all the alcohol in his system, he managed to keep his cool, replying curtly, “I came back for personal reasons.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, ““Personal reasons?”” A patronising laugh filled the space between them, “That’s not like you. You always seemed to be running away from something.”

At that sentence, Eren shot him a sharp look. His nerves were already heightened enough today, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Sure you’re not.” Jean brought his glass to his mouth before saying, “There probably isn’t a pregnant girl to run away from now.”

It happened in a second. Eren’s fists curled around Jean’s shirt, his stool on the ground.

His emerald eyes blazed with fury as he pulled Jean towards him, their faces inches apart. "Don't you fucking dare," he growled, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

“Hey, hey, now calm down boys!” The old barman shouted, bringing his hands in the air, “This ain’t no place for this.”

Jean's smirk disappeared as he registered the intensity in Eren's eyes. He tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong. "Let go of me, Jaeger.”

Eren's grip tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. "You don't get to bring her up like that," he gritted through his teeth.

“Oh, did you finally remember she existed?”

The final button had been pushed. Eren’s fist landed on Jean’s face with a loud thud, causing him to stumble backwards and fall off his stool. The other men in the bar gasped and murmured, some of them getting up to leave, others standing to get a better look at what was happening.

The barman rushed over to the two men, trying to separate them. "That's enough, boys! Take it outside if you have to, but not in here!"

Eren was heaving with anger, anger so radiant, it was like steam coming off of his body. His eyes were still fixed on Jean, who was now holding his bleeding nose. For a moment, the two men just glared at each other, until the taller one stood up from the ground, trying to regain his composure. Straightening his collar, he looked at the blood on his hand, a provoking smirk crossing his lips.

“You can still pack a punch, I’ll give you that.”

“Okay, you go now, come on.” The bartender tapped Eren on the shoulder, “we don’t condone that kind of behavior around here.”

“It’s alright, chief,” Jean put his hand in the air as a sign of protest, “It was my fault. I’ll be the one to leave.”

Eren’s fists were clenched so hard, his veins were visible. His head was spinning from the mix of the alcohol and the adrenaline the whole encounter brought. As he watched Jean pull out his wallet to pay for his drink, he tried to calm himself down by taking a deep breath and unclenching his fists.

“Oh.. one more thing.”

Sharp pain was felt throughout his whole left side, most notably in his eye. Eren hit the ground, his hand flying to his temple, which was now throbbing uncontrollably. His vision was blurry, the pain quickly traveling to his whole head.

“That was for her, you piece of shit.” Jean spat before he turned around to leave.

Eren tried to get up, but the pain was too severe, and the beers he’d drunk didn’t make it any easier.

It became all blurry after that. The last thing he heard were the bartender’s and his father’s muffled voices, and then a car engine starting.

But the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.. was Lily.

And you.

And as much of a drunken fool as he was, that night, he still fell asleep with a smile on his face.

…..

A/N: Hi🥹 I can’t express to you how happy I am that there is interest in this story. This chapter was a little tough to write and I hope I did it justice as much as I could. I’m going to try and post a chapter every week or two, so stay tuned!

Ps: if you want to be tagged, just say so<3 reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Tag list:

@vlsquuu @love-is-sick @shima707 @6sakusa @p4lli @intimacywithcelestine @docufanfic @jaegersdiary @xcelestina @fvckingeetar @theforest @roronoazorosbxtchh @hannaburnout

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger angst #eren angst

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 17

word count: 648

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

January 19, 1989

Dear Will,

I’m so in love with you. Okay, now that that’s out of the way… Last night was a Party movie night, and it went really well. We watched that Harrison Ford movie, Frantic. It was okay, as far as I can recall, because I was much more focused on the fact that you were being so affectionate with me the entire time.

It started with you putting your hand on my thigh, which isn’t really out of the ordinary, but still— it made me blush. About ten minutes in, you leaned your head on my shoulder, and pulled the blanket that we’d draped over our legs a bit closer to your chest, sighing as you relaxed into my side. 

I got kind of lost during the French speaking parts, and luckily, you’ve been taking French for a few years now, so you essentially became my translator, leaning up to whisper to me whenever they said something I couldn’t understand even after attempting to use context clues. Your breath was warm against the shell of my ear, and I felt myself turning red yet again— I’ll be forever grateful to the dark room for making it unnoticeable. 

About halfway through the movie, we shifted into a position on the couch where we laid down side by side, with your arm wrapped around my waist. I was filled with fucking butterflies and had to refrain from obnoxiously giggling at our proximity. If I were to have shifted only slightly, our faces would have been inches apart, and I could have just gone for it and pressed our lips together. But I didn’t, of course, because that would be suspicious. I mean, a lot more suspicious than we were already behaving; Max fake-gagged at one point and yelled at us to get a room, to which neither of us replied. I think you actually pulled me even closer into your chest. I felt so… safe. Protected. Loved. I know that’s impossible, but it felt nice, at least, to dream for a little bit. Just a little bit.

My favorite part of the night, though, was when I felt your breathing even out and came to the realization that you’d fallen asleep while holding me. I eventually felt myself nodding off as well, and graciously accepted my fate as your Cuddle Buddy™. You should know that I cringed while writing that. Ew. But anyway. Everyone else had fallen asleep by then, so I reached down to your hand and clasped it in my own, relishing in the feeling of being yours. And if you were to wake up, I’d just chalk it up to doing it in my sleep.

I woke up this morning and checked my watch to see 09:34 displayed on the face of it, and I couldn’t stop myself from fucking beaming, because we made it through the night without either one of us waking up from a nightmare or flashback. I woke you up, probably because I was literally buzzing with joy, and you returned my sentiment, because this was monumental for the both of us. This was the first time either of us had slept for a full night in years.

You went home several hours ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it. We fell asleep, together, on the couch last night, cuddling like we had during the time that you lived with me, and I felt something similar to homesickness. Nostalgia. When we woke up, I was resting my head on your chest, and I shifted my eyes upwards to look at your lips, which were slightly parted by the soundest of sleeps. I wanted to kiss you. I really, really wanted to kiss you, Will. And I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.

Love,

Mike

-

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#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

More Facts About the Goths!

Henrietta:

- Her favorite season is actually Spring!

- She’s in tune with nature, and seeing all the leaves on the trees grow back and the animals that become more plentiful just makes her so incredibly happy

- She doesn’t like animals of her own, but if her S/O says something about wanting a pet, she’s got a bad habit of giving in and getting a pet to make S/O happy

- Speaking of her S/O, Henrietta is a very devoted and loyal person

- When she loves, she loves hard, and she hates to be taken advantage of or have her heart broken

- When she’s sketching up designs for clothes and gets bored, she begs her S/O to let her draw on them

- It’s soothing to Henri and opens up bonding time with her lover

- She hates to be called anything other than Henrietta, but her S/O has all permission to call her Henri, Etta, Baby Girl, Darling

- She’s a big fan of her S/O

- Probably that girlfriend who gets a t-shirt with S/O’s face in it

- And gets S/O one with her face on it

- She enjoys walks. Down the road, up and down the beach (only at night), hell, even the walk to her car

- Owns a 2 bedroom apartment

- Drives a purple Lexus 450h she named Bettie

- Likes to write and will spend all day writing in her journal, writing in a notepad, on sticky notes

- Her penmanship is very beautiful. Small, cursive letters that lean a little to the right

- Her birthday is November 13th, and she’s a Scorpio

- She’s 5’5, and 5’10 when she’s wearing her signature heels

- Henrietta is very in tune with her S/O, she’d bend herself over backwards to please them

- Cuddly

- So fucking cuddly

- She’ll share a bottle of wine with her S/O and then tuck herself right into their side

- Has to be touching S/O every chance that she has

- Has days where she goes silent, but she always bounces back

- Is in college for fashion design, models as a side gig to help pay through college

- Very good girl and I love her so much I would fight the sun to make her happy

- (26)

Pete:

- Pete had heterochromia, but it’s just a patch of green on one of his brown irises

- He had braces late in highschool, and now just has the permanent retainer on the backside of his teeth

- He’s more often than not hunched over, but he just doesn’t realize it, so he has a few back problems

- Likes to lay on the floor in his room because it helps with his back pain but also because he just wants to

- Stargazes almost every night

- Is really into space, reads facts about space, horror stories about astronauts hearing knocking on the rocket’s exterior, knows every single constellation and planet and their moons

- Incredibly smart, made all 100’s in school and almost got a perfect SAT score (1560 out of 1600)

- Pete has ADHD, and he can barely keep still if he’s just hanging around and not doing anything

- His birthday is 4/20 (HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETE BABY ILYSM) and he’s a Taurus

- He’s 5’10, and kind of self concious he didn’t hit at least 6’

- He lives with his uncle, but his uncle is almost always gone on business trips

- His uncle is his best friend, they do almost everything together when Unc’s in town

- He likes to cook and bake, and he’s always whipping something up in the kitchen for his S/O

- Always painting, anything and everything he can think of

- Prefers to paint his S/O, he’s obsessed with them and wants to memorize every dimple, freckle and curve of their form

- Likes when his S/O does his hair, does his skin care, or when his S/O just does anything with him

- He’s not the type to be all up in his S/O’s business, but he does like hearing from them once a day at least

- Owns a PT Cruiser he’s had since we was in highschool

- He calls it “Miranda”, after a long inside joke from when all the goths hung out together

- Likes decorating with stickers, and you can normallly find stickers on his car, on his laptop, one his phone and on his Emotional Support Water Bottle ™️

- Likes to cook and help run the food shelter

- BLEEDING HEART. EMOTIONAL BABY BOY. IF S/O CRIES, HE CRIES, IF S/O MAD, HE MAD

- In tune with his emotions, and believes it’s very healthy to share how you’re feeling

- Unironically listens to 2000’s club music. His favorite is Wobble by V.I.C

- Writes poetry, and does so extremely beautifully

- He’s a nerd I love him so much he’s my little baby doll

Michael:

- Kind of an asshole, but more in the endearing way and not in the jerk way

- Michael has moments where he forgets what he’s doing and he ends up just sitting down and not doing the original task

- Has definitely ruined dinner quite a few times because of his forgetfulness

- He likes knitting, something that he picked up in highschool and perfected a few years later

- He’s always singing, making a beat, or writing down things he thinks would be good lyrics

- When he’s busy with a recording session, he will stay at the studio for hours on end until everything he and his bandmates do is just right

- Back to being an endearing jerk, his S/O is always bullied by him just so Michael can make them feel better by kissing them and giving them everything they want tenfold

- Sends flowers to his S/O’s job, or really, wherever S/O is

- Kind of possessive, not in the “Oh no” way, but in the “Okay, that’s hot” way

- He’s 6’7, and loves leaning on his S/O because he’s a shithead who thinks it’s funny to just prop up on people shorter than him

- His birthday is April 21st, which he is so excited about because that’s Robert Smith’s birthday, and that makes him a Taurus

- Speaking of, he really is as stubborn as a damn bull sometimes

- If S/O wants to do something, they have to practically beg on their knees for Michael to go and do that thing with them

- Sometimes, S/O debates whether Michael really is stubborn or he just takes pleasure in seeing them beg

- DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS Michael’s guilty pleasure is spoiling his S/O and he never takes no for an answer when he asks if you’d like to go out with him

- Owns a black 1990 Cadillac Brougham

- He’s a really big fan of vintage cars, he just thinks they’re so unique and they looked better before the 2000’s

- Big sweet tooth, and is constantly eating something sweet

- Owns a hairless cat named Boo that he likes to dress up

- Has a secret want to own all kinds of hairless mammals, he just thinks they’re so cute

- Has scary dog vibes, but he’s honestly more like an edgy golden retriever

- Likes to pick on his S/O, just so he has an excuse to hold them in his arms and smother them with love and affection

- He’s never actually mean to his lover, but if he’s mad, he does prefer to stay away from them until he calms down

- Michael’s got some issues he needs to work on, but all he needs is a healthy support system and he’ll be good

- Would never forgive himself if he did something that actually upset you

- He’s a butthead but a sweet butthead and he deserves everything in the world I love this man

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #sp michael #sp henrietta #sp pete #south park michael #south park henrietta #south park henrietta biggle #sp henrietta biggle #south park pete #south park pete thelman #sp pete thelman #sp pete x reader #south park pete x reader #sp henrietta x reader #south park henrietta x reader

[luwritesomething]

DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!

ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did. 

requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.

damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language... 

because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.

he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.

he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.

words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age. 

can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.

he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.

damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now. 

he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.

also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)

listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).

taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.

doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.

too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.

damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day. 

he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.

likes the addams family. what a surprise.

doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.

they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.

can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(

texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)

like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.

has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-

plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.

will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.

“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.

has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.

has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.

damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about  E V E R Y T H I N G.

cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.

he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.

“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).

believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.

reads A LOT.

never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.

barely sleeps, if he ever does. 

sleep is for the weak™

(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.

acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.

at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.

jon kent is his Best Friend™

(^^) damian told me himself.

he’s very handsome (canon lolz)

no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’

damian thinks selina is cool.

has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.

because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.

he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.

secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.

#damian wayne #damian wayne headcanons #damian wayne headcanon #batfam #jon kent #!!!! #batfamily #damian wayne fic #robin #fifth robin #fourth robin #ask me for a part 2 #im begging

[aivoryyy]

"Important"

pairing : tom riddle x fem! reader

contains : fluff, pure fluff, no smut, modern au, modern tom riddle, highschool or college au (you decide), kind of short

summary : highlight the important stuff. or people 😋

word count : 861

It was Aivory's last period of classes, the teacher was discussing and telling the students to highlight all the important stuff. Since it was the last class of the day, of course the students were tired. Some were asleep, some were daydreaming, some looked like they were paying attention but they were just zoning out. There was only one person in class who was genuinely paying attention. You looked at the person beside you, Tom riddle. His notes were neat, the information the teacher was telling to highlight was highlighted, he was organized, meanwhile Aivory's notes were a mess. She compared her notes to Tom's as a scowl showed on her face. At first her notes were neat but as you read further, it has become a mess. From the cursive and neat handwriting to an ugly and unreadable one.

The teacher was talking and moving on too fast; she wasn't able to catch up. While tom was only highlighting the important words, Aivory highlighted almost everything. As she suddenly zoned out on Tom's notes, he noticed and glared at her “what?” He said, his voice cold as ever, a tone not even once had softened. His gaze fell onto her notes, his brows furrowed as he looked at her then back at her notes. It was as if he were judging her by how she highlighted everything, but he didn't speak of it as he went back to taking notes.“I mean everything is important. The fuck?” She thought, while highlighting every word in the page was with her blue highlighter.

She soon gave up as she prompted her arms on the desk and rested her head on her forearms. The darkness caused by the shielding of her arms surrounded her gaze, not a single area where light was able to go through. Now she wanted to fall asleep. But as she was about to close her eyes, an idea popped up in her head. She rose up and sat properly, grabbing her highlighter again, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed tom glancing subtly at her as she suddenly sat back up as if she just had recharged and is now at full percent.

Then he scoffed and rolled his eyes. She looked at tom, staring at him for a moment before opening the cap of the highlighter and quickly drew a heart with the highlighter but before she could complete the other half, he flinched and brought his arm away from her “what the fuck do you think you're doing?!” He whisper-shouts at her “highlighting you. Now stay still.” She said, innocently, as if she had done nothing to annoy tom. “No-! What?!..” he looked at his arm, seeing a drawing of half a heart. He glared at her while she frowned at him, “now the heart looks ugly.” She stated, “why did you just draw on me?!” “I highlighted you.” The words rolled from her mouth calmly while he was annoyed as heck. He sighed and rolled his eyes at her sarcastic words, it was making him look dumb now. Tom's mouth opened, “you know you cant just fucking highlight on people. Can't you see i'm writing? It's rude to do that without permission.”

He said, continuously scolding her. He looked for his alcohol as he sprayed it on his arm. He attempted to rub it off and it worked, though there was still a bit of it there. He scoffed and just ignored it as he went back to taking notes. He noticed her frown through his peripheral vision, not caring. “tch” she rolled her eyes before the bell had rang. Everyone got up instantly and left. Aivory was one of the students who had escaped this hell of a class.

It was now dismissal, aivory would always stay and read in the library before actually going home and she'd bump into tom on some days. Right now she didnt want to see him or even hear his name come from anyones mouth but to her luck, as the library doors open, a tall, black wavy haired man walked in and looked like as if searching for someone. She sighed as she tried to ignore him and covered her face but to her surprise, the footsteps approached her. She didn't need to look at who it was. She knew who it was. Tom. Not even knowing how she knew but as she was about flip the page, a hand grabbed hers, causing her to put her book down.

“What?”

the word leaving her mouth as she tried to make it sound like she was annoyed but the soft tone of her voice ruined it. He said nothing, her hand in his as he highlighted her. She raised an eyebrow, “what are you d-” Then it hit her. Her cheeks heating up and without a word he left. He left her with her own thoughts. She even saw a small, faint smile even appear on his lips as he walked out and disappeared behind the library doors as it closed behind him. The lips that never stretched to smile. But he did. He smiled for her.

#fanfic #tom riddle #harry potter #fluff #tom riddle fluff #fluff fic #fluff fanfic #fluff fanfiction

[zuucc]

MORE THAN A VANVOUVER SUNSET: What if…

… Mat had given in?

Summary: What If Mat had given into Emma, that night in his car? What if he’d thrown his principles out the window and given into what they both wanted so badly? This story is a spin on what would’ve happened in Mat’s car that night after their trip to Sunset Beach - the trip that definitely was not a date - if Mat hadn’t been so stubborn, and so adamant about taking her on a date first.

Warnings: Smut, more cursing than actual sentences

Word Count: 3600 (including excerpt)

Author’s note: I wrote the first 50.000 words to More Than a Vancouver Sunset when I was supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis. That´s just about three years ago now, which is just mind blowing on its own. The fact that this story still spins through my head still, is maybe even worse? Anyways, I’ve got a week long exam and just like before, that makes me want to write everything but that. It´s not like MTAVS doesn’t have enough smut as it is, but banging my head against table has got me coming up with all kinds of shit. Needless to say - it’s spicy. I know I’m not really on here anymore, and for most people I’m just someone you’ll occasionally see on someone’s Mat Barzal, Tyson Jost or William Nylander fic rec list. I don’t even think half the people I used to talk to on here back then are still here, but I hope this finds someone who’s interested. And this could be read as a stand alone, you do not have to have read the 80k nightmare that is More Than a Vancouver Sunset to read this.

I hope you enjoy.

In cursive, you will find an extract from More Than a Vancouver Sunset, with what leads up to this story. If you haven’t read the full story - Mat has previously stated that Emma is not the kind of girl he’d just fuck, he would like to take her on a date first. He’s brought her to watch the sunset at the beach, but didn’t call it date out of fear. Though it really feels like a date to Emma and he did end up kissing her.

~

His hand started laced with hers, their fingers intertwined, resting in her lap as they began the drive back home. The conversation flowed freely, and it hit Mat square in the chest that though their lives had taken completely different paths after high school, they still shared many of the same experiences and they still had so much in common – hell they’d even ended up in the same city. Soon, his hand was gripping her thigh lightly and Emma’s own hand curled around his wrist, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. 

“I have to admit, my crush on you came back pretty quickly,” he hummed, looking over at her for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road ahead, causing Emma to laugh. 

“Yeah, a little faster than I’d like to admit,” she agreed, and Mat nodded along. He was pulling onto her street, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. The digital clock on his dash had pushed past eleven and Emma’s parents’ house was dark when he pulled into the driveway. He turned the car off, already knowing that he wouldn’t just be saying goodbye and backing out again. He looked over at the beautiful girl sitting next to him, and she was already looking back at him. They both smiled, looking at each other for way too long before they both burst out in giggles. They’d talked non stop all the way back and now it seemed that they were both out of words. 

“Come here,” Mat chuckled, pulling her closer by her hand and meeting her halfway. They both smiled into the short kiss, their eyes meeting for a second before their lips did, though this time the kiss was loaded with all the sexual tension that had seemed to make the air thick all around them. Emma’s nose brushed against Mat’s before the kiss deepened, the open mouthed kiss sending warmth through both their bodies. While Emma slid her hands up his chest, Mat’s dropped to her thighs, his grip a bit tighter and moving a bit higher than where it had been on the way home. 

Mat hummed into the kiss when her hands slid back to his neck, her fingers instantly moving into his thick hair and curling into fists. Their tongues met in a slow slide against each other, sending a wave of want crashing between Emma’s thighs, as she moaned into the kiss – not even embarrassed at the sound, simply just wanting his lips on hers, or anywhere else on her body – that’d be fine too, and his hands roaming. Mat could feel his pants getting tighter with every kiss they shared and Emma seemed to get more impatient; little moans slipping past her lips, her fingers clenching in his hair, doing everything she could to press herself closer to him, only to be stopped by the center console. Mat reached for the little button on the side of his seat, taking his seat the last few inches back. 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, not pulling far away, her lips still moving against his while she spoke. 

“Just come here,” he hummed, kissing her hard but quick as he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and the other sliding across her back to curl around her waist. He pulled her body closer to his before he simply lifted her over the center console with very little help and effort from Emma, letting her straddle his lap. That in itself had Emma grinding her hips down onto his immediately, making a groan escape his throat in unison with the moan she pressed against his mouth. 

“Fuck, Em,” Mat said, groaning into her kiss, his hands on her hips as she ground against him. The shortened version of her name falling from his lips along with his hardening member under her, hit her perfectly between her legs whenever she rolled her hips over his, and it was pushing her further along the road to desperation. His hands moved slowly up her sides as their lips slotted together, so slowly it nearly had Emma placing her hands on his to push them to where she wanted them most. He pulled away from her lips, his own glistening and swollen as he looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. Emma looked back at him with the same look on her face, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Mat’s attention was caught, his hands finally covering her breasts. He kissed her deeply, but only for a few seconds before he started a trail down the side of her neck as Emma pushed her hair back out of the way for him. 

“Let me take you out on a date,” he spoke, his lips moving against the sensitive skin right beneath the line of her jaw. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other stayed on her boob, massaging it in his hand. Emma’s neck craned back to let him have as much space as possible, her hand fisted in his dark curls. 

“I thought this was a date,” She breathed, her body pressing against his, desperate to be with him – desperate to have him naked against her, desperate for him to be inside her. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head against her as he kept leaving kisses down her neck. Emma moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She rolled her hips into his and she could feel him fully hard beneath her. She was sure the particularly nice thong she’d decided to wear was soaked through. 

“You don’t have to take me out first – before you fuck me,” she moaned, clenching her fist in his hair. The words falling from her mouth along with the pull of his hair had Mat groaning and pulling back from where he’d been leaving kisses on her skin.

“I’ll take you out – tomorrow,” he said, making Emma swallow hard. He really wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t know how to deal with the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. They were both breathing hard. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she sighed, brushing her nose against his. Matt chuckled, kissing her lightly, but long enough to leave a tingle on her lips. 

“I’m sure you can feel what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her against him. A breathy moan fell from her lips, making a soft smile tug on his. 

“I’m so wet right now, I’ll probably leave a mark on your pants,” Emma told him, not even embarrassed about it. He was wearing a pair of dark green cargo pants that did wonders for both his ass and his thighs, so no, she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about leaving a mark on them. Not when he was making her feel like this. 

“You can’t just say that,” he groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Emma smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, towards his abs. Mat locked his gaze to her fingers, following them down his torso all the way until it slipped under his t-shirt. He looked up at her again as her hand flattened out over his abs. 

“And you can’t just look like this, and kiss me like that, and expect me to not be wet for you,” she dared, feeling brave and risky now. She was horny, and she’d practically begged for him to fuck her already, so she had nothing to lose. This time it was Mat who smirked.

“What made you decide to wear this dress tonight?” he asked, his smirk turning cocky as his hands moved from her hips to her thighs. Emma smiled, looking out the window for a second to compose herself. 

“I like the way it fits around my hips,” she grinned. He somehow managed to look even more smug than he already was with his fingers curling around the side of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer. 

“So, you did this on purpose?” he asked then, his hands moving back to her hips, but this time under her dress. His thumb rubbing back and forth on a spot right beneath one of the double bands on her thong, and then slipping under it just to tease. 

“I did – I even put on nice underwear for you,” she said. He could hear the hitch in her breath when he pulled his thumb away and let the band smack back on her skin. 

“You’re not even wearing a bra,” he smirked, having already figured that out when she climbed into the car hours ago now and he’d sure gotten it confirmed when he had his hands on her earlier, only feeling the thin material between his hands and her boobs. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing a nice pair of undies, though,” she smirked back, finding his smug expression faltering just a little bit. With his attention fully on her, Emma moved her hand out from under his shirt, finding the hem of her dress instead and lifting it just enough for him to see the white lace covering her most intimate part, and the two bands sitting high on her hips. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, letting his hands fall back down to her thighs, his thumb sliding underneath the lacy fabric. He looked up to meet her stare, keeping eye contact as the finger slipped further down to where the material was actually soaked. Pushing the thong to the side, he let his finger slide through her slit, watching her as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed. 

“I thought you had to take me on a date first,” she breathed, letting her head fall to rest her forehead against his, her fingers finding their place in his hair again. 

“That was just before fucking you,” he smirked, though through his tone it was clear that he was nearly as affected as she was. Emma moaned as he slipped closer to her hole, almost falling against him. Their noses brushed against each other and their lips met just as he slid one long finger into her. The desperate moan vibrating against his lips sent blood rushing towards his dick, even if he’d been hard for a long time already and he could feel himself twitching in his pants. The moan that followed when he pressed another finger into her had him wondering what sounds she was going to make when he’d get to push his length into her. He would’ve fucked her right there in the front seat of his car if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. But there was the fact that he didn’t want to have sex with her for the first time in his car in her parents’ driveway. He wasn’t really much of a romantic, but he’d like to take his time with her – in a bed. 

“Fuck, Mat,” she groaned, her lips capturing his before she pushed her tongue against his. Oh, what she’d do to have his tongue between her legs right now. Mat loved the way she said his name, and he looked forward to hearing her moan it again as he placed his thumb on her clit and started rubbing circles. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, her juices running down his fingers and making him want nothing more than to lick it all up. Her mouth fell open as he curled his fingers inside of her, her head falling back as a string of moans left her lips. 

“Just want to taste you, baby,” he mumbled as she gasped at the loss of his fingers, her eyes heavy as she followed them into his mouth, his lips locking around the two long fingers dripping with her arousal. The pet name sent another wave crashing through her body, and that, along with the sight of Mat licking her juices off his fingers, had her falling forward, her lips and tongue against his as soon as his fingers were pushing back inside her. The taste of herself mixed with what she learned was the taste of Mat, was something she could definitely get used to. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned against his lips, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her too much, yet far from enough all at the same time. She pulled away from his kiss and immediately reached for the straps of her dress that were tied in little bows on her shoulder, tugging at their ends and letting the front fall down to expose her bare chest.

“It’s too fucking hot in here,” she whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Mat’s lips hung slightly open, lips burning red and and glistening from kissing her. His eyes were dark and lustful, alternating between her face and her naked chest, her pink nipples begging him to touch them.

“You are unbelievable,” he mutters, more so to himself than to Emma. She grins, unsure if it’s her body or her persistence he’s referring to, but happy with herself either way. She grips his t-shirt in her fist and pulls him closer, pushing up on her knees in order to let him fit his mouth around her nipples. The moans erupting from her throat were so desperate that she’d normally be embarrassed, but she was desperate and she couldn’t care less in that moment.

“Fuck, Emma,” he cursed again. She’d started meeting him halfway as she fucked herself onto his fingers, meeting his knuckles as he thrusted the length of his fingers into her.

“You’re really making me do this, huh?” He asked, more so rethorically. His words were barely audible as he dragged his lips from one of her boobs to leave a trail of wet kisses up to her collarbones.

“What?” Emma breathed, too focused on the feeling that was filling her body and gathering into a big ball of pleasure in her lower stomach, begging to explode.

“You’re making me break my promise, baby,” he whispered, his lips having made their way up her neck, stopping right beneath her ear. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside her. Never before had he wanted something so badly. Sure, he could make her come with his fingers, and she would be somewhat satisfied, but the way she was begging for him? It did things for his ego that he couldn’t really explain and he needed to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted. He’d never felt so wanted by anyone. And truthfully, it was starting to hurt with how incredibly hard she was making him.

“Fuck, really?” She nearly cried, gasping as he pulled his fingers out of her. His fingers were wet with her arousal, but neither of them cared when he placed both hands on her hips and pushed back on his thighs. He nodded to answer her question.

Emma hurried to get her hands on the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper as fast as she could. Simultaneously, Mat slipped his thumbs into both his pants and his boxers, ready to pull them down as soon as she’d gotten them open. Emma cursed again as his erection finally sprung free and slapped against his abs - his t-shirt having ridden up ages ago.

“Fuck, Emma, come here,” he begged, reaching out to grab her hip to pull her closer with the one hand and finding the button on the side of his seat, reclining it in order to make the ordeal easier. It would’ve been easier to move to the backseat, or just sneak into Emma’s bedroom, but right now this just needed to happen as fast as possible. He needed to be inside her as fast as possible.

“Oh god,” Emma breathed as she maneuvered her legs in the tight space, watching him spit into his hand before wrapping it around his dick and lathering it up.

“Come,” he demanded, and Emma felt herself fall towards him. Her hands found his sturdy shoulders and she lifted herself up from his lap for him to finally line himself up with her opening.

“Fuck, Mat,” she sighed as he pulled her underwear aside and let his tip run through her slit. They both moaned in relief as she finally sunk down onto him.

“I just need you to know- fuck,” Mat started, but interrupted himself as she lifted herself off of him before quickly sinking back down. Emma wanted nothing more than to cover his lips with hers and just get lost in it, but it seemed like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I want you, in every single way,” he went on, stopping to breathe and curse to himself. His hands had found their way back to her, one hand on her hip and the other was gripping her ass, helping her keep a steady rhythm as she rode him.

“Not just like this. But god do I want this, too,” he managed to tell her. Emma’s lips spread into a wide smile, feeling full in every single sense of the word.

“Me too, Mat, me too,” she agreed, leaning her forehead to his and very willingly complying when he pressed his lips to hers. Everything that had happened between them up until then had happened fast, and so had this. But Emma knew it was right, even if it was absolutely terrifying at the same time. Emma’s fingers fisted into the thick locks of hair on the back of his head, and their tongues finally met. They made out desperately as their hips met repeatedly, Mat planting his feet into the floor of the car to be able to meet her hips every single time she came sinking down on him.

“I’m so close, Mat,” Emma sighed, adjusting her feet on the side of the seat to be able to up her speed.

“Me too, baby,” Mat agreed, letting his head fall back to watch her as she sat spread out on top of him, her chest glistening with sweat and her arousal having spread out on her inner thighs and Mat, too. One of her legs were extended over the middle console and into the passenger seat and that way Mat could see the way he was buried inside her, how he was covered in her juices. His thumb found its way to her clit and he watched her close her eyes in pleasure, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.

“Oh, god, now,” she cried, pushing herself forward to fall against him again. They’d never done this before, but somehow Mat knew what she meant. His arms wound around her, holding her close to him, as he thrusted up into her with all the power he had as she moaned and clawed herself to him - leaving marks on his shoulder as she finally came. He didn’t let go himself until he could hear her moans slowing down and coming to an end.

“Fuck, Mat, that was just… Wow,” Emma managed to say, still breathing heavily. She lifted her head from where she’d collapsed into his shoulder, a wide smile spreading on her lips when she pulled back and saw the one already on his lips.

“I know, I’m… I’m glad we did that,” he admitted, even though he had been so adamant on waiting til after he’d taken her on a date.

“Me too,” Emma laughed, relaxing into his lap again. The feeling of his softening dick inside her was warm and comfortable.

“To be fair, I really thought that was a date,” she grinned and Mat shook his head with an embarrassed smile on his lips. A blush crept up his already pink neck - Emma might not be able to see it with how hot they both were, but he could feel the blush settle on his neck and cheeks.

“It was supposed to be, but when I saw you this morning I just didn’t have the balls to call it that,” he admitted, his hands were running up and down the outside of her thighs as they spoke.

“You didn’t have to call it that, Mat. You didn’t have to say the word date for me to understand that the guy who’s been flirting with me for weeks and even told me that he wants to take me on a date and then fuck me, is asking me on a date when he’s asking me to come watch the fucking sunset at the beach. Like, I thought we’d established that I am quite smart a long time ago,” Emma laughed, and Mat had to cover his face with his hands as he laughed along. She was right, it definitely sounded like a date.

“So, if it makes you feel better, we can just say that it was a date,” she shrugged, smiling that gorgeous smile that Mat had been falling for every single time he’d seen her since he was assigned seats next to her in high school.

“Okay, fine. But I’m still taking you out tomorrow,” he grinned.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Emma mirrored his smile, leaning forward to press her lips to his again.

“I meant it though, what I said about wanting everything, not just sex,” he reminded her, struggling to keep eye contact as he said it. It was important to him that she knew how he felt. She was more than just a one time thing.

“I know, Mat. Me too,” she said, kissing him once more.

“But I really do want the sex, too,” he smiled cheekily, making Emma throw her head back laughing.

“Me too,” she agreed, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

#More than a Vancouver sunset #Mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fanfiction #Mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #New York islanders imagine #Hockey #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey imagine #Definitely not writing a barzal fic

[absolutebl]

Random ask game asks

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

What's one thing that's stereotypical about you?

I have the remnants of a british accent + I drink tea. 

Play any instruments? 

Piano, badly 

A music artist everyone criticizes that you like: 

Last show you watched: 

Last movie you watched

Senior Love Me? 

Last song you listened to

The Arc - The Light 

Last book you read

Old Fashion Cupcake manga 

Your top five most listened to artists this month on Spotify

Stray Kids

BTOB

Young K & Day 6

Kang Daniel

TRENDZ

Ever drank alcohol?

Every Friday and it’s Be My Favorite’s Fault 

Every smoked anything?

Fish, mostly 

Do you prefer to eat-in or take-out?

Both 

If you could time travel what decade would you go to first

Am I invisible or do I look the way I do now? If #1 then the past, if #2 then the future. 

An actor everyone loves that you don't like for whatever reason

Speak any other languages?

4 none of them well, including my ostensible original 

Have any tattoos? Want any tattoos?

no

Have any piercings? Want any piercings?

yes

Do you prefer the hot or cold weather?

cold 

Cats or dogs? Or some other pet?

none but those owned by others tend to adopt me (the house has a cat and he think’s i’m his)  

Trendy over comfortable or comfortable over trendy?

trendy and comfortable, why choose? 

Say one thing bad about something you love

the singing is terrible and the acting is usually pretty crap too

Do you prefer to read digitally or from a physical book?

digital 

Do you put milk in your hot tea?

yes 

Do you know how to play any popular gambling games?

no

A character you relate to for whatever reason?

A quote (from anything) you really love

How many pairs of shoes do you have

maybe 10? 

Do you have trouble saying any words because of your accent/speech problems?

no, i’m good at words and public speaking 

Earbuds or headphones?

buds 

Showers or baths?

Early bird or night owl?

insomniac 

Candles or scented spray?

fresh flowers 

How often do you change your clothes?

as often as is necessary 

Chess or checkers?

all board games bore me 

Something you can do that you think is cool?

Perfume or body spray?

body oil 

What's something that genuinely scares you

other people’s unhinged obsession 

LED lights, the room light, or sunlight?

diffuse natural light 

What's something you do differently than everyone else?

peel and chop fruit 

If you have hair how often do you style it in some way?

spiky if i bother at all 

Nail polish, press on nails, or acrylic nails?

short and tidy but nothing else 

Do you have any fidget toys? If so what's your favorite?

 I learned to sit still or get whacked, and i’m fine with the outcome 

Do you drive?

yes 

Your go-to genre of music?

Are you a good multitasker?

no one is a good multitasker 

Silence or background noise?

kpop 

A famous movie/show that you've never seen

i don’t know i haven’t seen it 

Any sport you would like to play?

i don’t like sweating with other people around... 

actually, i don’t like sweating at all 

Can you write in cursive?

yes & calligraphy 

Is your handwriting neat or at least easy to read?

yes very 

Colored pencils, markers, or crayons?

black 

How many pillows do you sleep with?

2 

How many blankets do you sleep with?

3 (if the top sheet counts, ALWAYS top sheet) 

Do you ever plan to get married one day?

fuck no 

Do you ever plan to have kid(s) one day?

fuck no 

Do you subscribe to any religion?

fuck no 

Something in your room that you think is funny for whatever reason

the hotel room i am in right now has a teacup the size of my head painted with parrots and I have no idea why. 

Would you rather be an actor, singer, comedian, or would you do something on YouTube/twitch/some other site

i would rather gouge out my own eyeball than be a celebrity of any kind 

Are you scared of the dentist?

not at all, my dental hygiene is fucking amazing, they often get mad at me for wasting their time 

(before you ask: good genetics + fucking flossing = the answer, just floss while watching your favorite bl, it’s not goodamn rocket science, take care of your teeth you slackwits) 

Do you wear makeup?

sometimes 

If you could be any character of the opposite sex, who would you be?

i already am 

In the literal sense, are you an introvert or extrovert?

both 

What's something in your room that makes no sense without context

aside from that dumb teacup, i don’t know, i’m not in my room, i’m rarely in my room 

Favorite subject in school?

If you could visit any place in the world where would you go?

right now, i wanna get to taiwan before it isn’t anymore 

A show/movie thats been on your watchlist forever but you for some reason keep putting off

Is the name you use online your real name? (Real name does not mean deadname)

never 

Do you have a favorite sibling?

If you were to have a kid what names would you have in mind?

no fucking children, not mine, not anyone else’s, i am not interested, yours is NOT the cutest nor the smartest (trust me) and i don’t want to hear about them 

Do you think things like anniversaries are a big deal?

no

Mobile games or PC/console games?

no games 

Do you believe in things like ghosts?

no

Long sleeve + shorts or short sleeve + pants

depends on the weather and culture 

Can you do any voice impressions?

no 

What was the first fandom you were genuinely into

star trek 

Do you prefer womens or mens products?

depends on the smell, price, and effectiveness  

would you be fine having your partner completely provide for you?

never 

Plain clothes or vibrant and eye catching clothes?

neither, i’m usually just stylish and quirky 

Movie date or restaurant date?

food 

Do you split the check or expect only one of you to be paying it?

split or I’ll pay if my friend isn’t holding 

Favorite fast food place?

i’d rather not 

How do you make your coffee?

in italy 

Do you pay attention to the music or the lyrics more?

music 

Are you more energetic or tame?

energetic 

Are you witty?

only by accident  

A show everyone criticizes that you like

[lucero-is-here]

Waltzes into the room in an outfit similar to Diego’s

Good afternoon, evening or morning ladies, gentlemen and folks. It’s headcanon time. Presenting- Diego Alejandro Montoya Esteban del Lobo. Also, the only reason this is being posted earlier than the tons of other requests I have is due to the fact some of this was written a long time ago, and I haven’t posted for a while. I will get to your other requests as soon as possible!

Here he is:

Requested by:

Now I know this man, so let’s get to him!

- he had high heels and can definitely walk in them with no issue.

- usually wears boots or loafers. Occasionally high heels to look more fancy.

- his hair takes prayers, genetics and some washing every now and then to look as good as it looks now.

- Hat collection. He has a bunch of different hats for different outfits, and he loves all of his hats equally (that’s a lie he likes his black hat the most)

- bisexual

- when he first joined the flying squad, he definitely tried pulling pranks on Arthur Wright. Some were successful, some backfired.

- he’s a prankster in general. He likes pranking people. It’s always harmless pranks, but they can escalate sometimes to being really annoying.

- cold hands. His hands are kinda cold, so he wears gloves.

- he flirts a lot- he flirts with people for fun or keep them on their toes, or just to fluster them. He finds it funny when they get flustered.

- sometimes, his flirting backfires cause the person flirts back, and somehow flusters him more than he flusters them and it’s so so funny watching him turn red with embarrassment.

- coarse hands. His hands are kind of rough…Not the smoothest definitely.

- he likes hugs a lot- or basically physically affection. If he has any lovers, he’s kissing them on the forehead or cheeks on a daily basis.

- they bailed him out of jail temporarily so he could visit Charles Dupont’s grave- (and also to diss off Lawson’s grave)

- He can DANCE! and he dances really well.

- he wanted to be a painter when he was younger. And technically, he is. He is.

- Evie let him meet her brother, Nicholas, once. Diego definitely tried flirting with him, and it definitely worked well on Diego’s side.

- He hides everywhere. If you see a laundry basket somewhere, and it’s quite big, there is a chance Diego is hiding in it waiting to jumpscare you or someone else.

- cursive handwriting, that is a bit hard to read.

- he can copy other people’s handwriting and writing style, and impersonate as them.

- when Arthur fought Malcolm, he stood aside cheering at Arthur and yelled: “HIT HIM IN THE BALLS!” While eating popcorn. It was very funny.

- He likes popcorn.

- Super good spice tolerance. He eats everything spicy- and loves it.

- parent issues. Grew up in an emotionally unsafe household, and struggles to express how he actually feels about certain things.

- he did a backflip once, and swore to himself never to do it again because he almost failed-

- flexible. Flexible as hell.

- wardrobe is mainly made of suits, and he has a lot of suits.

Okay that’s it. If I think of more a part 2 will be posted!

#criminal case #headcanons #diego del lobo

[idealspawn]

hey..... i must say. this has been the best week of my life. and im filled with utter joy. ive had like a.. rebirth? every once in a while i feel like im born again. the transition is really emotional but they are moreso growing pains than destructive pains. im suddenly surrounded by so many great people and possibilities and i finally feel like life is rewarding me, treating me the way i should be treated. in a way im reluctant to owe it to "faith" and see myself as a passive subject rather than an active agent in this but in a way i think i am powerless in some factors regarding this change. next month its my debut in like a culture (?) newspaper! at least they said they are very interested in my analysis but i havent heard back yet about the second version i sent them. i wrote my favourite poem ive ever written. and ive seen so many movies recently that have served as this transitional border. like as this extremely active sphere of both "death" but also birth. like metaphorically. ive been so vulnerable and i love it. ive cried my eyes out like i havent in such a long time and done like... meta analyses about my underlying beliefs to bring change and new energy into my life. you see.. i get really stuck on like.. nominal labels. at first they describe me but it tends to go unnoticed when it no longer fits or serves me and im only living a certain way just because of this nominal structure. but all these nominal structures are made for us. not that we are made to fit them. ive re-evaluated things now.. also out of nowhere people have been reaching out to me. maybe it truly does show up in my energy when im more open. like that it attracts other open, honest, vulnerable people. ive met so many new people and truly felt seen. this is a big thing for me. for the longest time ive struggled to enjoy time with people because ive struggled to find people who i share some kinds of values. i like diverse people but for example people who are open to explore communication on an emotional and relational level rather than only informational. thats important to me. ive been more confident in sharing my opinions too:) and participating in class and in life. going to places where i know id feel a bit uncomfortable and end up surprised. going to places alone is massive for me. it opens me up to new people and experiences because i simply dont have a choice to close myself off with friends im already close with. a woman came to talk to me after a lecture. she said she had been watching how i take notes in class (i write really fast.. i tend to transcribe literally everything the professor says). she said she has studied palaeography and asked to see my notes to analyse my handwriting :) she said its very unusual for people to still write in cursive if they write with the pen very much pointed upwards, however i manage to do so :D. it really made me want to also just reach out to people... like whenever and for whatever reason. and ive noticed people actually like talking to you when youre authentic and awkward. ive restricted my communication with people SO MUCH only due to the fact that i feel like i might not be insanely flawless in my self-expression. the nature too. the season is such that i see birth and death all around me. and its very refreshing. i like seeing change and being reminded of it constantly. it feels liberating. its a season that many people dislike in my country but im in love. i love people. i love physical touch. i love eye contact. i love emotions. i love ideas. i love agency in breaking boundaries. i love feeling seen and important and useful. i love authenticity and vulnerability.

[flippythedoodle]

hey can u give some tips for a beginner ambigrammist to refine her ambigrams and make the process easier?

i'll just put what ive learned from others and my own experience (i kinda put a lot so imma put it all under a read more)

1. you need to really know what letters look like

one of the talents an ambigrammist needs is to know the details of what makes a letter a letter, and what strengthens or weakens this reading. for example:

on the right are what i would say are very readable letters, almost instantly recognizable. on the left however are essentially the same letters, but missing the core elements of what makes them them. i recommend looking at fonts if you really want to fully understand, but as long as you know the glyphs, you can ambigram them!

additionally, there are so many other forms to choose from. we're all used to the simple, elementary alphabet we were taught, but there is a vast sea of different forms of letters you can try! things such as style, form, and mutations if done correctly will look cohesive in a design! experiment with cursive, square, fancy, blackletter, capitalization, italicization, the world is possible! for example, here are the many ways to write an r that i've collected:

14!!

14 for the LETTER R ALONE. the modifications may be subtle, but in the world of ambigramming where totally legible ambigrams are far and few between, every possible form counts bc you'll have more options at your disposal to choose from. as you see more ambigrams (and trust me, you probably will), you'll learn more about what's possible with them!

2. get feedback!!

the unique thing about ambigrams is theyre made to be seen by others, to be read and gawked at by onlookers, and so any outside feedback means the world to development. let family members, friends, preferreably people that mostly read normal words, try to read them, if they missed any letters, try and improve it. reiteration and tiny modifications help so much, even the tiniest of changes can help. sometimes we may be tunnel-visioned into thinking our ambigram is legible, because we know the word already, we see what it's supposed to look like. but when you get opinions from others, its almost like getting a new perspective, the ambigrammists equivalent of flipping a canvas. there are also communities dedicated to creating good ambigrams out there! (to name some, Ambigram Aficionados the discord server and ambigr.am the website, both of which are linked if you want :3)

3. know the methods!!

there are two main methods that ambigrammists "officially" recognize, downstroke matching, and shape matching

shape matching

this is the more freeform of the two methods, providing more space to do whatever, and thusly, maybe come up with either cool new stuff or bad new stuff. this matches "shapes" of letters, straight, curvy, half curve, spirally, etc etc. this one takes more experience to master, but if done well works wonderfully. heres an example with "greener"

(hey, look! weird R from earlier!)

downstroke matching

is one of the easier of the two, and most often than not yields the best results. in essence, letters are broken down into their vertical strokes, which are then "cut in half" and aligned to each other. this comes from the notion that people read the top parts of a letter more than its undersides. so, when flipping, all that crazy stuff that used to be on the top is now on the bottom, becoming flourishes and designs. this is kind of a precursor to shape matching, as if pretending all letters are squarish before actually taking into account their shape. an example with the word "Basket" would be:

this of course, has its downfall in curvy letters like b and o, as these have specific curves to follow, which may get lost in how strokes are made straight. i got lucky here with the e curving the same way the B would normally, but this isnt always the case.

the best ambigrammists tend to find a good balance between the two, making sure both form and style are as optimized as possible!

finally,

4. not all ambigrams are possible*.

*as a normal rotational

unfortunately, jojo, hello, uwu, and many more words aren't (currently) possible just because of how theyre built at words. so don't be disappointed if some seem impossible, because (like chloe *wink wink*) they might just be. you can then resort to different types of ambigrams, or different modifications!

here jojo works okay as a lake, uwu works perfectly and naturally as a mirror, and chloe and hello work as chain rotationals! another somewhat crucial element of making an ambigram work is flourishes. these help hide the modifications made to a letter, almost like camouflage, or even to hade a letter itself. here are some examples:

this one uses a curvy flourish for the hoops of the Ps, tiny dots for the i tittle and the Es midline, and a bit more flourishes to hide them like serifs and extra curves

this one turns a C into a drawing of a cockatoo! the flourish being the cockatoo, hiding the otherwise awkward C

this one's rather extreme, S and e being turned into flourishes. these are then surrounded by more flourishes to hide them, which works semi-okayly

thats all i think i know about ambigramming, i hope it was semi-useful!

(find me on ambigr.am at chump, and discord as shin_dig :3)

bonus resources: John Langdon (ambigram god)'s advice: https://www.johnlangdon.net/thoughts/advice-on-ambigrams/

Write Words Make Magic (who's also on here @writewordsmakemagic! makes much more in-depth videos on downstroke matching and ambigrams in general on youtube and tiktok)

#ambigram #art #calligraphy #digital art #my art #rotational #ambigrams

[idiotlovesongs]

The Letters pt. 5

tw drug use

Will flipped the page to the next letter and was a little taken aback by how messy the handwriting was. Mike already didn’t have the best handwriting; It was loose and sharp all at the same time and the letters were kept tightly together, huddled for safety and warmth. Now, Will looked down at the words and frowned. The letters were connected, but not like in cursive. It was more so like Mike just didn’t pick up the pen when he moved on to the next letter. It was careless. He also noticed how much more often words were scratched out. It made him nervous about what Mike had to tell him.

Dear Will,

I have something to tell you. It’s a secret though. I’m seriously praying the government, or, even worse, my parents, doesn’t open this letter.

I’m, like, really high right now.

I made friends with a dealer a while back. Really he’s more of Dustin’s friend and he runs a DnD group. Dustin and Lucas were here with a few of his friends, but they went home. His name isn’t super important right now. Whatever. 

I’m here with him, so you don’t have to worry at all. It’s all good. 

There was a little burn mark at the edge of the page between these two lines.

Should I be writing to you right now? Would it even be a good idea to send this? This is a bad idea, but I’m committed now. Fuck it. 

The night started out good. He set up a one-shot for us. Don’t hate me for playing DnD without you. Honestly, that was the closest thing to being with you without actually flying to you. I kept looking at where you would sit in my basement (next to me) and getting pissed when it was some random guy. Why couldn’t it have been you? You should have known we were playing and then teleported. Will the Wise would have been able to.

Anyways, this DM is fucking brutal. He shows absolutely no mercy. I think he gets a kick out of watching us fail saving throws. I got a nat 1 at some point! Will, I feel like I brought shame to our party. We really needed you back here. You should sneak out, hop on a plane, and meet us here.

Do you even want to? You have a good life in Lenora. All that’s left is to find a new party, right? How hard could that be? Just hang out in a comic book shop enough and one will walk in looking for a cute wizard or cleric and there you will be, looking at the newest issue of Daredevil.

Promise you’ll come back for at least one game? God, I sound desperate. Ignore me.

Okay, so something not about DnD.

After the game, we were offered some weed. It wasn’t like he pressured us or anything. It was really casual. He pulled out his metal lunchbox and asked if we wanted to smoke. Lucas can’t because of basketball and Dustin was too freaked out to try. Most of his friends had to head out so they declined too. Now, I’m here with his bandmates, and the air smells really fucking bad, and I’m kind of freaking out, but that’s normal. He said weed either makes people loosen up or freak. 

I hate how it feels. Kinda. It’s like all my limbs are corkscrewing at different speeds, in different directions, and through different dimensions. He tells me I have to relax and lean into it. ‘It’s like floating in a pool. You have to relax or you’ll drown.’ It’s really hard to let go. I keep trying by just thinking of stuff, but my train of thought keeps veering off the tracks. I feel like if I don’t correct its course, it’s gonna just crash and burn. I don’t think this is for me.

I can’t really go home right now either. I’m pretty sure I reek. Although maybe my parents wouldn’t notice. I can imagine exactly how me walking in would go down if they couldn’t smell it on me. 

“Hey, mom, dad,” I say as I walk in.

“Hi, sweetie. How did hanging out with your friends go?” My mom is on the couch with Holly while my dad is on the recliner. He doesn’t even bother to look up, just hums.

“It was fine. I’m tired though.” I’m already on my way to the stairs so she can’t trap me in a conversation.

“Okay. Goodnight, honey.” She looks over to my dad like she’s trying to make him lift his head up with his mind. 

“Goodnight.”

And then the smell of marijuana reaches them and I’m sent to live on a farm with my uncle Eric in Montana. I think they would just ship me over in a cardboard box. 

Whoa. It just started pouring out of nowhere. Maybe if I stood outside in the rain, the smell would wear off faster. He said it wouldn’t and laughed. I think I want to die.

Will, Will, Will, Will, I don’t know what else to say. I’m spacing. I’ll just call my parents and stay here I think. It’ll be embarrassing in the morning, but that’s a problem for the future. I don’t think I can write another sentence. I just did. And another. Okay, I’m done. Don’t tell anyone about this. I hope this letter doesn’t also smell.

Will leaned down a moment and sniffed the letter. He winced and confirmed that it did smell vaguely like weed.

Love, Mike

P.S. I think the munchies might be fake. I’m nauseated right now.

P.P.S. Don’t be worried. I swear I’m fine. I just really need to sleep this off.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

#byler #byler ficlet #byler fanfic #mike x will #will x mike #mike wheeler #mike wheeler centric #will byers #miwi

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 21

word count: 966

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

May 17, 1989

Dear Will,

Today started out pretty rough, since one of my tires on my bike popped when I was halfway to your house. And given how quickly Hawkins has become a fucking sauna over the past few weeks (thanks, rural midwest), it was not a blast to push my bike the rest of the way on foot. Again, I could have taken my car to begin with, but I think in some way shape or form, we crave that element of our childhoods, riding bikes through the neighborhood like old times. Plus, Lucas and I are the only ones who have cars right now, so majority rules. Anyway, I still wound up at your house about half an hour early, and we spent that time trying to figure out how to patch up and refill my tire. No dice, unfortunately. But our hands brushed a few times, so it wasn’t too inconvenient.

Jonathan ended up coming into the garage at one point to grab a few tools (he’s been helping Hop out with some home projects, like a new shelving unit for your living room and a deck out back— but you already know that, why am I going on about this?) and suggested I just share your bike with you. You laughed so loudly that I thought I was gonna puke. I forced my anxiety back down and reminded Jon of how tall I am (last time I went to the doctor they said I was 6’3”– no, I’m not kidding), and he insisted that I, “just try and sit on the handlebars, or something.” I thought the idea was insane, but you seemed to be pretty entertained by it, so I shook my head with slight embarrassment before I motioned for you to mount the bike.

You swung your leg over the bar and rested your feet on either side, a huge grin on your face. “Do your worst, Wheeler,” you told me. I was so tempted to dramatically fling myself over the handlebars like a ragdoll, but then again, I didn’t feel like throwing out my back at the ripe age of eighteen. I turned so my back faced you, reached behind me to grip the handlebars, and hoisted myself up as best as I could, while you reached a hand out to hold my side and keep me steady. I must’ve looked like a fucking praying mantis or some shit, with my knees almost hitting my chin because of how I was balancing my toes on the front fender, but I didn’t care, because your reaction was fucking priceless. You were hysterically laughing, and I couldn’t help but begin to laugh as well.

Before I knew what was happening, Jonathan had disappeared and come back within record speed, and a bright flash hit my eyes as he clicked the button on his camera. I glanced back at you, and thankfully, you didn’t look fazed at all. In fact, you said to Jonathan, “please tell me I’ll get a copy of that,” while catching your breath from laughing so hard.

After that whole debacle, we actually tried riding the bike with me in front, but you couldn’t really see on account of the top of your head barely reaching my shoulders. So we eventually gave up on trying and just walked to Dustin’s to meet the rest of the Party, since his house isn’t too far away from yours, and Jon was still busy with his project and couldn’t drive us. Which I was totally fine with, because… duh, time alone with you is time well spent. We played D&D, and I kind of got a little too invested in your campaign. I think I just love seeing you so happy. I don’t think I could ever get tired of watching you in your element.

Once the session ended, Lucas gave us a ride home (I love how I just referred to your house as my home, I might’ve gotten a little emotional just now while writing it). We walked into your living room and saw Jonathan sitting on the couch with a bunch of photos spread out across the surface of the coffee table. Apparently, he’d gone and processed all of his films at Melvald’s while we were at Dustin’s; there were two copies of the photo he’d taken earlier.

He gave me one before asking if I wanted to stay for dinner. As much as I would’ve loved to, I actually did need to take care of Holly tonight, since our parents are in Ohio right now at some conference for my dad’s job. You offered to drive me back to my house, and I tried not to look too excited as I said yes.

Once we arrived in my driveway, I leaned over the center console and hugged you, telling you I had a great time with you today. You hugged me back (you hadn’t for the first few seconds and I nearly had a panic attack) and said you had a great time with me too. I went inside, holding the freshly printed photo of us in my hand.

So… I might have framed it. I know, it’s weird and frankly kind of stalker-y, but… deal with it. You’ll never actually know about this anyway. Not unless I leave the frame sitting in plain sight when you come into my room, or if I recklessly forget to hide these letters detailing where exactly my copy of the photo went, as well as the countless times I’ve talked about wanting to kiss you. For now, I’m keeping it under my pillow. 

Okay, I’m gonna stop writing now in order to stop myself from sounding like even more of a creep than I already am.

Love,

Mike

-

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#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[dmwrites]

The rift, forever a source of mystery and chaos, was shrinking. Yeah. Shrinking.

It had been, what, like a week since the hermits had come back through the rift, and the empires guys had followed? Well, no rest for the rift, apparently, as it was very clearly shrinking now.

When Grian had noticed the change, he’d done what any normal person would do- he noped out of his basement and simply ignored the issue, instead going to prank Scar and drinking so much of Bdubs’ seasonal hot chocolate that he got kicked out of the coffee shop.

The rift investigation procrastination only ended when Grian seriously considered working on the back of his megabase, having done everything else possible to avoid said rift issues. That shook him to his core, and he headed down to his basement, a cold dread washing over him.

“What are you up to?” He asked Grumbot, landing in front of his machine, purposefully avoiding looking at whatever state the rift was in now. He looked up into Grumbot’s face, but there was nothing to be disconcerted from it. Just aimless flashing lights and buttons.

Gritting his teeth, Grian turned around to a blank stone wall. His heart sank for just a moment, before he caught sight of the one-block hole right near the ground, which still shone with that purple portal stuff.

“Oh no.” Grian whispered. He thought of the empires fellas, of the beautiful lands that were on the other side of that portal somewhere. If the rift was gone… what then?

And then, there was a faint squeaking sound, like metal wheels turning. A faint rumbling, one that was all-too familiar to any person who has, at the very least, loved villagers before. And through the one block of rift that remained came a minecart, which stopped with no rail to continue.

Grian slowly walked towards the rift and the minecart, heart racing and that awful curiosity-killed-the-cat (or bird, in the case) feeling that always seemed to get him in trouble.

There was a chest inside the minecart, and Grian opened it. Inside was a note, which read:

Hello?

-Mumbo Jumbo

Grian gasped. “No way! What? I- Mumbo?” He dropped the note and began mining at the wall where the rift had been. But it was just crumbling purple and black material, and lead nowhere. “No, no! Mumbo, are you here?” He called, but there was no answer. He looked back to the minecart and the rift. A sense of déjà vu rushed through him, and he knew what had to be done. He dug around in his chests and found a scrap of paper. In shaky, quick handwriting he wrote:

Mumbo? Is that you?

-Grian

He placed his note inside the chest, closing it and pushing the minecart through the rift. It vanished at once, and Grian sank to the floor, holding Mumbo’s note to his chest. Mumbo! His Mumbo! Well, okay-

Now that he had a moment to actually pay attention, there was something… odd, about the note. It looked like Mumbo’s handwriting, a kind of scrabbling cursive mess, but there were minuscule differences that no one would notice, unless that person was Grian, who had spent a good part of season seven sending notes back and fourth to the man. There wasn’t that unnecessary loop in the “e”, and his signature looked nicer then Mumbo’s ever had.

“This is ridiculous.” Grian said. “Someone’s got to be playing a cruel joke on… me…” As he said it, the minecart came back through the rift, landing neatly in front of him. He opened the chest without really thinking about it, so desperate for that new note.

Yes. It is me. It’s been a long time, Grian.

Grian shut his eyes tight, letting out some kind of choked laugh-cry. It had been a long time. It seemed less and less possible that this was some kind of prank, or perhaps it was just the desperation clinging onto any hope. Grian found another bit of paper and began to write.

It has been. I miss you, Mumbo. Where are you? Are you in the rift?

He sent it off with his heart in his throat, trying to remind himself that Mumbo was a slow answerer, to remember the disappointment in season seven where he rarely answered at all.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, notes came back within fifteen minutes of Grian sending one, each one as engaging as the last. Grian lost a week sitting in front of the rift, just staring into the small, swirling remains of the rift, waiting for Mumbo’s responses, with a stack of paper ready to go.

They talked about many things, mostly reminiscing and Grian telling him all about the empires server and the king and even the diamond pillar war. Mumbo kept saying he missed Grian, that it wasn’t the same without him.

Perhaps Grian should have seen it coming, what Mumbo was really after. But he was so caught up in it all that it came as a surprise when a note came that read:

Come through the rift in the minecart. Notes aren’t enough anymore.

Grian looked at the note in confusion, then at the one-block high rift opening.

I won’t fit. And how do I know this isn’t some kind of trap?

He sent the minecart back, a sudden clarity shooting through him, like someone had dumped water on his head. He was sore and cold, the hard stone of his basement floor having sapped the heat from his body a long time ago. He looked at the dozens of notes laying around him, all in that almost-Mumbo handwriting.

He looked to Grumbot, who was just as still and quiet as he’d always been. Not exactly Mumbo and Grian’s son. Perhaps this Mumbo was the same? Mumbo was mayor in Grumbot’s world, and Grumbot had come through the rift…

The too-familiar rattling of wheels on rails broke through Grian’s thoughts, and he scooped the new note out of the chest without a moment’s hesitation.

I would never hurt you, Grian.

Grian stood up, sucking in a painful breath. It was Mumbo, Mumbo would never hurt him, not in ways that mattered. In every world, they had to be friends, right? And friends would never lie to each other, right?

Perhaps it was desperation. Or the person on the other side, Mumbo or not, was more manipulative then Grian could imagine. But either way, Grian was never known to fully flesh out a plan, much less with his own safety in mind.

And so, with the final note from Mumbo clutched tight in his hand, he sat in the minecart, scooting it forward until the heavy feeling of the rift was upon him. He closed his eyes, not knowing who or what was going to be on the other side. All he could hope was that his Mumbo Jumbo, however he was, was waiting for him.

#December 17 2022 #fic #hc9 #grian #Mumbo jumbo mention #the rift #Grumbot mention #long post #hiii sorry for vanishing off the face of the earth I got sick:( #feeling better now tho