#and i can only assume that they had never read an actual newspaper in their life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undiscovered-horizon · 4 months

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Hi, I read a few of your posts and I really liked your writing. May I ask a hcs/drabble/one shot of ONE PIECE with Shanks (and Mihawk if it’s possible) who are in a relationship with a woman who have her own crew and the woman flee away in their sleep, leaving them behind, with her crew after years of relationship? A bit angsty 🙊 and they never found her again, seeing her in newspapers or rumors only.

Thank you if you made it and sorry if It doesn’t suit your blog! Have a nice day <3

At first, he though he read the title wrong. But no matter how many times his eyes glided across the black ink, the newspaper headline said the exact same thing: BLACK TOOTH GRINS: A NEW SCOURGE?

There was a picture attached underneath the title. Part of him thought that maybe the familiarity in the woman’s face was just his longing; a product of a mind too lovesick to hold on to sanity. Alas, this time, too, his senses were not deceiving him.

It is your face. You're alive and well as it seems. Looking exactly the same as the day you had left.

The heartache comes back to him tenfold. Not it has ever left but the pain and anger are now suffocating. So many months have passed when he hasn't heard from you as though you've suddenly ceased to exist. No one has heard about you, no one has seen. How can a whole person just vanish? At some point, he told himself that maybe you've met your end. It was entirely possible.

But nothing has prepared him for this. To realize that he was abandoned by the one he loved.

The anguish slowly fades into numbness like a radio falls silent after piercing ears with static. Everything stands still as he recalls the day some part of him had died:

"Greatest swordsman in the world" is a quite hefty title to carry. It is also quite a hefty title to be overshadowed by. Wherever the two of you showed up, you'd always be perceived as a decoration to Mihawk rather than his partner. Like a pearly white Maltese carried by rich ladies in their purses. Having voiced your concerns, Mihawk knew that you feel in some way inferior to him. He just never thought it was that severe.

He was woken up that night, actually. The sky was still black and starry, morning long hours away. You were getting out of bed and your stirring woke him up. But he quickly went back to sleep when you whispered that you were just going to the bathroom. By all means, it was just another night. Like countless others you've spent together. Nothing unusual.

In the morning, everything was gone. All of your belongings had disappeared as though you had never been on his ship in the first place. Like a ghost he's grown to love had simply become bored of haunting him.

Only one thing, however, suggested that you were not a figment of imagination: a laconic note that vaguely explained the situation. In a few words, you told him that you're tired of being seen as an accessory to someone, a pair of gloves that will be out of season when snow thaws. Knowing that you're more than the Maltese in a purse, you ventured into the wide world to become an infamous name of your own.

Throughout many years, every day has he thought of that night and the morning that followed. What if he hadn't fallen asleep? Was he too calloused to notice how much you've been suffering? Was there something he could have done but decided not to for some reason?

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to the same, heart-wrenching conclusion - he was just abandoned in the middle of the night. Whether it was his hurt pride or respect towards your wishes, he's never gone on an escapade to find you.

As years went by and he hadn't heard from you or about you, Mihawk simply assumed that you'd died. It seemed the most probable. Part of him wanted to take the blame: if he had noticed your pain earlier, had he taken your worries seriously, you wouldn't have left and you wouldn't have died. It was his responsibility to protect you, to ensure that his beloved is safe and sound. Alas, he had failed. Quite utterly at that.

He grew bitter and vicious. What good is his swordsmanship if it failed that one time it could have mattered? What good is he if he was too blind and oblivious to ease your burden?

But all of those painful thoughts disappeared today.

Mihawk tears the newspaper and throws it away. He's grown almost used to the weight of bereavement on his shoulders but now he's absolved of it. One shouldn't grieve someone who is still alive. But contrary to his expectations, he doesn't feel better because of that. In fact, he feels a lot worse. Even if your death had been brought by your own choices, it is not your fault. Your death, however, hasn't occurred as of yet, so the time you've spent building infamy was just time you chose to leave him broken and aching.

He mourned you! Turned his grief and misery into a fury that burned entire towns. He became a shadow of the person he used to be. And for what? To learn that he was disposable to you? That his love for you was less important than your pride and ambitions?

Now that you've made it on the front page with an equally hefty title "A New Scourge", perhaps you're a danger big enough to be hunted down by none other but one of the Warlords. Was it not what you wanted? To be truly someone among pirates?

Oh, he will find you. Even if you told him not to look for you. Mihawk will find you and make you take responsibility for the damage you've done - for the man you've irreversibly changed for the worse; the heart you've forced to turn into stone.

Is it revenge or is it justice? No matter. It is right.

If the butterfly effect is true, Shanks, or rather his tendencies, would be the said butterfly that causes a tornado down the line. He's been known as a man with no commitment and certainly not a devout monogamist. It didn't matter that for a few years he's been exactly that - happily wrapped around the finger of one woman. Most of his men "respectfully" disregarded the relationship status as something temporary.

"Shanks thinks he's in love. Like a thousand times before her."

Which was probably why you've gone years being called a variation of "Shanks's girl". Whether they meant it or not, people around you made sure that you know you're disposable. A fling.

But you never were. Gods above! You never were.

Shanks thought it was quite obvious that he didn't consider you a fling. All the jokes and jabs at his previous love life were just that - meaningless jokes among friends. Even when you explicitly told him that they start to make you uncomfortable and that you want to be taken seriously, the pirate captain never quite took you as seriously as he probably should have. "They're just joking".

The jokes stopped one day and, seemingly, so did Shanks's humour altogether. All of your belongings were gone. You were gone. Nowhere to be found, disappeared like fog on a spring morning. The only thing he had from you was a note, hastily scribbled in the corner of a map lying on his desk as though you were too rushed to take your time to write a proper letter.

He's read that note every day for years. Naively hoping that one day he'll somehow be enlightened as to where you've gone. Maybe one of the letters is strangely pointing towards an island? Or maybe the fact that you've written your message in the North-East of the map was a sign? No matter how many asinine guesses he's made, all of them were wrong. You just... disappeared.

Despite asking him not to look for you, Shanks couldn't help himself. Each village he has visited, he would ask about you. Has anyone seen you? Or heard about you? A few times he thought he had seen you in the crowd, only for the woman to turn out to be a stranger vaguely fitting your description. But this investigation, too, proved to be in vain. For better or worse, it seemed as though you had never existed in the first place.

To put things simply, Shanks had given up. If no one across the seas had seen you or heard about you, it seemed the most probable that you'd met your end. Somewhere far away, among unfamiliar waters and surrounded by strangers. Were you in pain? Were you afraid? Did you wish he could have been there? Or maybe you thought-

No. He shouldn't be thinking like that.

Shanks is locked in his cabin. If his crewmates believed he had an alcohol problem after you disappeared, their captain's state right now would be "alcohol catastrophe". He hasn't been sober since he saw the newspaper.

At first, he was excited, yes! You were alive and well! But then the realization set in: you've left in the middle of the night, asked him not to look for you and never once reached out to him. Telling him that you don't love him anymore would have hurt incomparably less.

He's sitting on the floor. His clothes reek but he doesn't care about that. A shaking hand has trouble lifting another bottle of strong alcohol. The front page of the newspaper with your face on it is lying in front of him. He's just blankly staring at it, letting tears fall down his cheeks.

Among the darkness of the room, there's just him, the bottle and the dull, unbearable ache in his chest.

Shanks wishes to find you. To ask what in the Hell you were thinking. Then ask what he can do to have you back with him. But beware, as whatever you demand he will do. Even if it costs him his other hand.

That is, if his liver won't kill him first.

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

The Buffer

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!Reader (no gendered terms/pronouns)

Genre: fluff, tiny little smut mention at the end

Word count: 5k

Summary: Chrissy just wants to play wingwoman. If only the two people in question weren't so clueless.

A/N: Writing Chrissy is so fun. I hope I've done her justice.

Being friends with most of the school newspaper had its perks and its penalties. Pro: you get all the hot gossip before it hits the shelves of the school store. Con: whenever there is a big scoop and they have to work through their lunch break, yours becomes far more lonely. Usually you can find someone to sit with, but today you just so happen to prefer your own company.

Coincidentally, today is the day Chrissy Cunningham decides to sit at your table. "Hi!" she beams, setting her tray down, sitting down and then offering her hand out to you. "You don't mind if I sit here, right?"

Eyes narrowing, you take her hand warily. You've never heard anything bad about her, but you wonder why now, in your senior year, would she finally extend the olive branch? "You already made the trek all the way out here," you muse, and she giggles.

"Yeah, it's not my table but I thought, it's been a minute since we last talked and since your friends aren't here, I figured I could keep you company!" You can't get a read on her. She's the human equivalent of sunshine.

"That's sweet of you," you smile. "Yeah, it's the one downside of being on the outskirts of the school paper team," you shrug, and Chrissy nods in understanding. "Normally I'd find someone else to hang with, but I dunno, something told me to just sit here anyway."

Chrissy's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, if you need some alone time I totally get that, I'm so sorry I assumed -"

"It's fine," you hold your hand out with a reassuring smile. "I'm actually glad you joined me."

She gasps exaggeratedly, pressing her palm to her chest and putting on a voice, "Who, li'l ol' me?!" You laugh, and she joins you. "Well, I would offer for you to sit with more of us, but some of the other girls are…"

"Say no more, I know how a lot of cheerleaders feel about me," you roll your eyes. "Nah, usually I'll go and sit with, like, the theatre kids, or those Hellfire boys, if I need a good book to read, they'll know."

"Oh my god, can I tell you something so bad?" She asks you with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth.

You look from side to side. "Bad, like… Like, scandalous or -?"

"Oh, no! Not at all! This is about me," she giggles. "Did you know that, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that Eddie the Fr… The one who plays Dungeons and Dragons," she quickly corrects herself before leaning in to whisper to you, "I had no idea that was Edward Munson from middle school."

"Girl," your eyes widen as you lean back and she holds her cheeks, laughing silently. "You mean to tell me you couldn't tell that Edward the metalhead became Eddie the metalhead?!"

"He had buzzed hair, I don't know!" She presses her fingers to her temples as her face cringes. "When he started talking about his band, it all came flooding back, and I felt so bad!" Her face starts to soften, though. She rests her elbow on the table and sits her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers curling against her cheekbone. "He's kinda cute now, wouldn't you say?"

Of course she'd say that as you were taking a sip of your drink. Taken aback, your breath catches at just the wrong moment and you start sputtering and coughing. She grimaces, though you can tell she's trying really hard not to laugh. When you finally catch your breath, you say, "Can't say I've noticed any difference."

That's not technically a lie. You liked Eddie in his buzzed phase. You liked him in his half-grown-out phase. You even liked him in his irons-his-hair-straight phase, though you're grateful that it looks far healthier now that he keeps it curled. And sure, maybe your heart skips a beat or two when he calls you over personally to sit with you, or points to an empty spot next to him (provided one of his "baby sheep" hasn't taken it already). So there's never been a difference to whether or not you'd thought him cute. But if Chrissy Cunningham is into him? Any shot you might have had if you'd had the confidence to do something about it is definitely out of the window.

And so you come to your conclusion. Clearly, Chrissy has seen that you and him are still somewhat friends, and clearly she wants you to play wingman. It'll sting, sure, but it's not like you were planning on making a move anytime soon.

"You don't think he is?" she asks with a slight frown. You're perplexed. Do you chase her off his scent, would that make things too obvious? Or do you encourage it, and risk her questioning your enthusiasm? Either way, the risk is there, and at least now you can live vicariously through her.

You shrug, "I mean, I didn't say that, he's just… I dunno. He's always been Eddie," you allow yourself a small, wistful smile for a few seconds, which is cut short by Chrissy noticing something behind you.

"Oh my god, shh-shh, there he i- Eddie!" The tonal change from being so hushed when she started talking to yelling and waving by the end hurt your ears.

Tray full of food in hand, he saunters over to you both. "Well, hello to you both," he balances the tray in one hand while doing a funny salute-bow motion with the other. "To what am I owed this pleasure?'

"Well, we were just catching up, since someone was sitting here all alone," Chrissy starts with a pout, and Eddie frowns, turning to you.

"Well, hey, you know there's always room for you with us, right? I know the boys tend to… Get excited and forget other people exist, but you just gotta be just as loud," he explains, his head shaking slightly.

You giggle, "It's been fun, actually, just me and Chrissy here. She's real fun to be with." You didn't realise quite how much saying things like that would sting, but you're here now. Hopefully it'll get easier with time.

"You should come sit with us!" Chrissy pats the table at the spot next to you. You turn your gaze quickly to your own meal, poking at the parts you're yet to eat. You conveniently miss Eddie and Chrissy's silent conversation of eye flashes, tiny gestures and facial expressions.

Eventually Eddie caves and slides into the seat next to you. Chrissy waves her hand towards her, "No, no, come closer! I don't want to have to yell." Even when making her demands, she's adorable. He should be putty in her hands within seconds. Then your work will be done.

Eddie slides his chair over, so his leg barely grazes yours. If you lean even the slightest amount, you can feel the chain on his jeans press into you. "So, what hot topic are we catching up on, then?" he asks.

"I was -" Chrissy collapses into laughter, which makes both you and Eddie smile. There's that sting again. "I was just talking about yo- how I didn't know you were you from middle school!"

"I mean, can you believe." Eddie deadpans, looking at you while gesturing with his open palm to Chrissy.

"Even you said, didn't you!" Chrissy continues, now also talking to you. "You said even you knew he was the same guy from middle school, it was just me!"

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's just the hair that fooled you! I remember you in middle school having to move your ponytail so you didn't sit on it! This doesn't even look half as long!" You gesture towards her hair, and she giggles even more.

"Yours doesn't seem to have changed much though," Eddie muses, mouth half-full of food as he points his fork at you. You hate that you don't even find that repulsive.

"Nah, I've pretty much looked the same since the age of six, just stretched out in certain places," you shake your head, to a chorus of laughter from the other two. "Except for the few months I was missing a chunk out of it because I tried to bleach that one part with toilet cleaner." The pair of them hiss through their teeth in sympathy.

"I can do you one better than that," Eddie smirks. "Though it's not my story, guy I met at the Hideout one time. He had tried to bleach his hair at home, was told to wrap it in plastic and heat it up. So he takes a grocery bag -"

Your hands fly up to your face in shock. "Not one that had a logo on it!" Eddie presses his lips together and nods.

Chrissy whines, "Oh, no! So did it transfer onto his -" Eddie interrupts with another nod. "Noooo!"

"I so wish I could have seen it," Eddie laughs. "In Chrissy's defence, though, I didn't think I was all that memorable," he glances over at you.

You shake your head. "I’ll never forget the day you dressed up as a Hobbit for Halloween wearing sneakers with hair taped to them," you laugh, and Chrissy looks at you wide-eyed.

"Sorry, what?! Where was I?!"

Eddie laughs behind his hand. "Oh god, I thought nobody had noticed that! So - I wanted to give the outfit my full devotion, which meant walking around barefooted with extra hair on my fe- You asked!" Eddie exclaims as Chrissy cringes. "But the teacher told me I couldn't not wear shoes, so I had to keep it canon somehow. God, that teacher sucked," he groans under his breath.

"Oh, yes. How terrible it must have been for you to get dress-coded," you deadpan, and Chrissy joins in, once again trying not to laugh.

"You poor thing, Eddie. Having to be told to put shoes on, so oppressive."

"You guys are really coming for my jugular, huh? Last time I join you two." Thankfully, his tone doesn't sound serious.

"Aww, but who else is gonna come bowling with us after school?" Chrissy pouts. You give her a wide-eyed stare and she simply bounces her eyebrows up and down at you in response.

Eddie blows air between his lips in a rasp. "I dunno, you drive a hard bargain..."

"I'll buy you a portion of loaded fries," you offer, clearly understanding your place as the buffer, the third wheel.

Eddie slaps the table, "Now I'm sold!"

He and Chrissy set up a time and a place and you simply nod quietly in agreement. It’s their date, after all. You’re just moral support until it’s your cue to leave them to it.

Once he’s finished with his food, he nods over at his usual table. “S’pose I should go see my herd. I guess I’ll see you later on this evening,” he smiles before leaving you to join his friends.

Chrissy grabs your wrist, looking all excited. “Isn’t this awesome?! I thought that’d give us time to go to the mall first - don't sweat it, I'll drive us - find something cute to wear, and then we can start the journey over to the bowling alley!”

You’re not sure why you have to dress cute, too, but you assume she doesn’t want to potentially appear overdressed, so at least if you’re there and he’s underdressed, he’s in the minority. You let her have her little makeover moment - as much as it all hurts to help Chrissy live your dream, she's just too nice to direct any ill will towards.

When you meet up with Eddie, he has smartened up a little - he's wearing a plaid button-up, though you see his homemade Hellfire shirt peek out beneath it, and a leather jacket. He's absolutely beaming at the sight of you both - which if course he is, you're stood next to the most infectious smile in Hawkins. He greets you with the same motion he did in the cafeteria, “Long time no see,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

Eddie turns his nose up at swapping his Reeboks for “clown shoes”, while Chrissy notices that hers squeak if she slides her feet in just the right way and obsesses over it, trying to get a sound out of every step.

Chrissy insists on "ladies first" as she writes her name without hesitation. She writes yours next, then Eddie's. It goes about the same as any other bowling game - though when you revel in getting the first strike, Chrissy pulls you in for a hug and practically throws you at Eddie to also hug him.

He smells nicer than he does at school. You feel his laugh rumble in his chest, "Thank you? I'd put that down to Hawkins High smelling worse in general."

Shoot. You'd said that out loud. You play it off with a semi-awkward laugh and a, "Yeah, that's probably it!"

Eddie gets the next strike, and Chrissy ushers you forward first to praise him. This tactic, admittedly, just genuinely puzzles you. Does she just want to be the most recent physical contact of his? But then why wouldn't she do the opposite when you got your first strike? None of it seems to make sense. Is this why she needs a wingman? Do you need to step in and intervene? You offer him a hug identical to the one he gave, and as much as you try to keep it as brief as possible, you can't help but linger just a little.

You try your best to not play your A-game, giving Chrissy the chance to try and impress Eddie all by herself, but she keeps hyping you up just as much, if not more. You try and play off like you're at least mildly disappointed, and Eddie ruffles your hair sympathetically. You glare at him and he chuckles, "C'mon, you promised me fries, didn't you?"

The three of you share the food between yourselves, Eddie eating the most, which he'd predicted and already "repaid" for by buying all your drinks. Chrissy excuses herself to the bathroom, and Eddie spots you eyeing a nearby claw machine. "You know there's a trick to those, right?"

Your brow furrows. "Isn't it, like, random? When the claw actually grips or whatever?"

Eddie taps his nose knowingly, "Trust me. C'mon," he gestures with his head and you follow him over to it. "Pick one."

You raise your eyebrows. "You're that confident?!" He nods, and you press your forehead to the glass as you choose, "That one. Teddy bear, black and curly hair."

"Just like me," Eddie smiles, taking a final loud slurp of his drink followed by an equally loud gasp. "Stand back, please." You comply, hopping back to watch over his shoulder as he explains his actions. "See, you're not wrong, but you can increase your chances, thanks to a handy little friend called physics. If we just keep, it, moving," he punctuates every pause with the press of a different button, aiming the claw so that it starts to swing, "so that it still wants to swing even as it comes up," his voice drawls a little slower as the claw descends, clutching your preferred toy in its grasp, "and then when it does," he pauses for effect to show you the claw swinging on its ascent, "gravity should keep it central enough as it swings back and forth that it should… Fall…" He extends each word until it drops into the shaft, where he extends his hands out proudly, "Right where you want it."

Your eyes are wide, fixated on where the best now sits. "And yet it's taken you how long to get a D grade?!"

He laughs, "Listen, if physics was taught through hotwiring cars and figuring out arcade game mechanics, I'd be running that class. Same as how I can count a 7d6 roll in seconds, but long division? When am I ever going to use that again, you know?"

“You’re a smart one, Mr Munson,” you smirk as he takes the bear out and hands it to you. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers brush against yours, and you chide yourself for getting so flustered, not only over someone who a separate person has sought your help to set them up with, but over an action so basic.

Chrissy suddenly appears, bouncing between the two of you. “Ooh, what are we up to?” she asks in a delighted sing-song.

“Just showing off my mad skills," Eddie beams, leaning against the machine and holding his arms out to point at himself proudly.

Slightly dejected, you hand the bear over. "Yeah, look, he won this for you!"

Chrissy looks at Eddie with a face you can't quite read. Like she's questioning him. He returns the expression, and Chrissy shakes her head. "You hold onto it for now, come get another drink with me!" Less of an offer, more a warning as she takes your wrist and pulls you over to the vendor again. "So, talk me through this," she says when you're both definitely out of Eddie's earshot. "How could Eddie have won something for me when I wasn't even there?"

You shrug, "I dunno, but it seems to be going well, right? So, you want me to get out of you guys' hair now, or…?" After that brief contact, you're ready to go home and just scream into your pillow for all eternity.

"Why would - Oh! Oh. Oh, no," Chrissy goes on a whole journey of expression, from curiosity to surprise to realisation to bursting into a fit of giggles. "No, no, oh my god. Did you think that I was - that you were -?"

You look at her, totally lost. "I'm going to need you to please finish at least one of those sentences."

Chrissy holds back a snort of laughter before ordering just two drinks. "Oh god, you two are just precious little disasters, aren't you?" Your eyes narrow, and she holds your arm gently. "Okay, so I'm going to be the one to go, now, because my role here was to try and push the two of you together."

Chrissy's words echo in your head. So many thoughts consume you. She notices this and, after taking both drinks, guides you over to one of the designated booths for food, also waving Eddie over. He walks up to where you both sit, opting for sidling into your side. "Do I get to be filled in on whatever's going on here, or…?" Eddie asks, waving between the three of you.

"So, debrief time," Chrissy starts, placing her hands on the table. "Maybe I'm not the wingwoman I thought I was." Eddie's eyes go wide for a second before his expression becomes one of confusion. She continues, looking straight at him, "I, uh, accidentally led your date on to believe that I was the one who wanted to come here with you. So,” she slides the cups over to your side of the table, “I'm going to go now, you two finish these drinks and go play the one more game of bowling I already paid for, and I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?" With one more slap of the table, Chrissy stands up, slides out of the booth and leaves.

Eddie sucks on his straw nervously while you play with the teddy bear sitting in your lap. You're the first one to break the silent tension, "So. Never thought to just, ask me out?"

Eddie chuckles humourlessly. "You live the life that I have, and matters of the heart become an unattainable luxury." You rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. "Although," he smirks, "if you had just asked me out, I wouldn't have been caught longingly gazing at you from afar by Chrissy Cunningham, of all people."

You laugh, "Shut up," But Eddie shakes his head, his hair tickling your face in the process. He notices, and tucks it behind his ear.

"It's true! Since all cards are on the table, Chrissy caught me looking over at you last week, before your theatre friends caught you, and then next thing I knew, I'm being flagged down by the two of you, who are suddenly best pals," he crosses his fingers together.

"And… How long before that?" You ask tentatively.

Eddie shrugs his shoulder to gently jolt your head. "Nuh-uh, your turn first, I've already embarrassed myself enough." As you lift your head, you notice a flush of colour adorning his cheeks.

You, too, immediately turn red enough to blend in with the Coca-Cola sponsored furniture. "Um, well… We never really talked in middle school, but I remember thinking you were really cute, with your hair just growing out and the - the handwritten shirts you used to make, I always thought they were cool. I told my best friends at a slumber party, and they said you probably wouldn't even give me the time of day; I was younger and not skilled in any way to play in your band, so they told me you wouldn't care." Eddie's brow furrows, but he lets you continue. "Then, freshman year, I'd tried to join the school paper with my friends, but it was so not my scene. And I didn't know where else to go, but you just… Took me in, just like that. I told myself I wouldn't screw this up, that I'd only act on stuff if I knew it wasn't going to make things weird. And now, ironically, here I am having the weirdest conversation of my life."

"So, good news about that, weird is kind of my thing," Eddie starts, amused. "You really liked me for that long, huh?" You nod, and he laughs. "So, whenever you would sit next to me on the bus, even when there were empty seats…"

You nod, cringing, "I thought that might be something, like the start of some kind of epic middle school love story, but you proved my friends right. You wouldn't even talk to me,” you shrug.

He smirks, "Because my freshly-teenaged brain had no idea how to approach the very first person he felt attracted to."

If this were a cartoon, there’d be steam blowing out from your ears, you’re that red. “Shut up,” you mutter with a shy smile, looking back down again at the toy in your lap.

“It’s true!” Eddie beams. “I just kinda thought that… I don’t even know,” he shakes his head. “I thought maybe you might be the one to bring up the fact that you would always sit next to me.”

“And I would always sit next to you in the hopes you would bring that up to me,” you giggle.

Eddie moves his knee to rest next to yours, “God, what a pair of idiots we were, huh.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m the one who didn’t even realise I was being set up on this date,” you admit sheepishly.

“I mean, there were moments today where I thought maybe I was the third wheel all along!” Eddie laughs. “So, I kinda get it.” He reaches over to gently poke at the bear. “Got a name for him yet?”

You hold it up onto the table. “Yeah, Teddy Munson, after his dad,” you gently nudge him with your shoulder and he laughs. “He’s got your hair.”

“Yeah, but he’s got his mom’s cuteness,” Eddie looks sideways at you, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

Taken aback, you scoff, “Oh sure, now he’s smooth!”

Eddie’s loud laugh fills your ears, causing your smile to reach them, too. “Well, now he knows he’s got a shot. Better late than never, right?”

“In that case, you should know that I totally botched that last game on purpose,” you nod.

Eddie leans back in his seat, a cocky half-smile adorning his face as he looks at you with head cocked and an arm draped across the back of the booth seat. “Oh, yeah? Sure you did.”

“Sorry, remind me, uh, who was it that got the first strike? And then suddenly got way worse? How do you explain that?” you lean back to match his energy, the adrenaline of a half-lifelong crush finally being actively reciprocated charging you.

“I’d call that a fluke, but it’s okay. Whatever helps you sleep tonight,” Eddie’s arm reaches up to once again ruffle your hair. In doing so, he ends up at a closer proximity to you. Oh, you could just lean in a fraction and simply smooch his smug face clean off of him right there and then, but your competitiveness just gets the better of you.

“Fine. Chrissy said she bought us a game, right? Let’s go,” you gesture to the alleys, and he hops out of the booth by pushing himself up to perch his feet on the seat and then vaulting over the back. You clap at his acrobatics and he bows his signature bow at you, before offering his hand to help you out. You take it, carefully shuffling out of the booth while also holding the teddy to your chest, explaining softly, “I’m bearing precious cargo, here.”

Eddie snorts, “Bear-ing,” while pointing to him, and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, you love it,” he drawls as you jokingly start to walk towards the exit, but he tightens his grip on your hand and instead pulls you over to the counter. Apparently, Chrissy had already explained the situation to the girl who was working, having given her a brief description of who to look for.

You take on the responsibility of writing your names on the card beneath the projector, while Eddie drapes himself over you. With a laugh, you ask, "You good?"

"Who, me? Sorry, my presence isn't too distracting for you, is it?"

"So is your tactic to annoy all your dates, or am I just the lucky one?" You ask with amusement.

"Oh, yeah. you mean the absolute hordes of people just lining up for a night with ol' Eddie, you're gonna have to beat them all off with a stick if you want a shot!" He yells sarcastically as he dramatically prances around you, making you laugh harder.

"Right, but I can't be your first date, surely?" You ask. You've never seen him with anyone, but you never know. Maybe he's more of a casual guy. Maybe even this is casual. Maybe, considering how wrong you were about Chrissy, you should stop making your own assumptions and wait for him to tell you.

He shrugs, "I've been on plenty of double dates where I've been the buffer-slash-distraction, but I've never really clicked with any of those. Let me put it this way - I bully the people I hold dear to me, and you're the only date I've bullied."

"I think there's a compliment in there somewhere," you pull a face, eyes darting around as you try to piece his sentence together.

"Alright, hotshot, let's see what you got," Eddie smirks, patting your back.

"Ooh, he's a poet! Can I expect a Corroded Coffin song about me, soon?" You grin, picking out your preferred ball.

"Yeah, it's gonna be called Humble Pie, 'cause that's what you'll be eating soon," he pinches your nose between his index and middle knuckles before gesturing towards your lane. "The floor is yours."

Taking aim and bending low, you take the shot and nail it, watching all the pins fall with glee in your eyes. You swivel round to grin at Eddie, "See?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think I'm not onto your little distraction technique, bending that far just to bowl," Eddie raises his eyebrows.

You narrow your eyes, gesturing to the other lanes, “It’s a legitimate strategy, Eddie, look at everyone else.”

Eddie barely glances over at them before stepping towards you. “No, I think you’re definitely doing it on purpose.” He closes the gap between you, looking down as he drawls, “I’m onto you, kid.”

Yet again, you could just give into temptation, grab his face and kiss him. Let him think of nothing else for the rest of the game. But then, perhaps that’s his plan for you. Regardless of how the game goes, your flirting’s become a competition in itself now. And you’re going to win.

You do lean in. You watch his eyes flicker down, his lips twitch. And then you pinch his cheek, “Your turn, big boy.” You walk back to the bench, and take a little extra pride in the oooh you can hear as he blows a breath out while he watches you.

On every good shot you get, you gloat. On every bad shot you get, you completely avoid Eddie, despite him chasing you around to goad you. On every good shot of Eddie’s, you pull a sarcastic look at his celebrations.

On a particularly bad shot of Eddie’s, you pout as you tease condescendingly, “Aww, could somebody not keep the ball out of the gutter? Poor thing.”

“Alright, now I am gonna have to stop you there, unless you want all this to go to waste,” Eddie points out with another drawl.

“And why would it go to waste?” you ask, folding your arms. “That’d only be the case if we both forfeited, which isn’t -”

Eddie stands close to you to murmur, “Keep that tone of voice up, and I’ll be forfeiting us both into the back of my truck, if you catch my drift.”

Normally an admission like this would render you floored, but you’re competition-fuelled-adrenaline-filled now. You narrow your eyes, “Using theoretical sex as a distraction technique, Munson? A low blow, even for you.”

“God, you are doing so many things for me right now,” he growls. “And I’d show you how non-theoretical that promise is but, uh, I think Gramps and the crew might have something to say,” he jerks his head over to the team of older bowlers in the lane next to you.

You bite your lip. “Loser of the game has to get the winner off?”

“Deal.”

When Chrissy calls you up the next morning, you tell her of how you and Eddie kissed for the first time as a celebration of the result of that second match. You opt to leave out the part that took place inside the van, where Eddie came in his pants while moaning your name between your legs as he devoured you to your climax.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

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thorns-and-rosewings · 2 months

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In light of the most recent TSAMS episode, how about some funny Ruin craziness from the Home Sweet Bar AU? 🍻

Now here's the thing with Ruin, in spite of owning a bar he has never really been much of a drinker, he openly prefers tea to alcohol.

The man is a living British stereotype

But on this particular day, a few of the customers at Infernal Machine actually offer Ruin a sip of their quite potent alcoholic drinks, this was a mistake...

Turns out the British twink cannot handle drinks...

Ruin gets WASTED practically off of one drink. His behavior quickly becomes erratic, random and weirdly hypnotic to nearly all of the crowd at his bar. He maintains still being mostly his harmless self... For a bit...

Before Eclipse can grab his business partner, Ruin escapes from the bar. Standing outside with spirals in his eyes and surrounded by the merry bar patrons.

Ruin: LETS... ROB A BANK!!!!!

The crowd cheers and follow Ruin as he races down the road... However one singular patron and Eclipse stand in the steampunk bars entrance just watching the group disappear from view.

Patron: Hey um... I'm not cool with robbing a bank.

Eclipse: Don't worry there's about two hotdog stands and a zoo between him and the nearest bank, he'll never make it.

Patron: 0_0

Eclipses words were prophetic...

It's the next day in the complex that functions as the duos home underneath the bar; Ruin is in his cute shark onesie pajamas with his face in the kitchen table. While Eclipse sits across from him in his silken Yukata that he uses as a robe, counting out what looks to be a vast amount of cash.

Eclipse: (Sarcastic) Have fun last night honey?

Ruin: (Groans)

Eclipse: So what happened during your little adventure?

Ruin: I... I believe I spent quite a bit of time feeding hotdogs to a giraffe...

Eclipse: How'd that go?

Ruin: He wasn't too keen on it first but he eventually came around. After that I... I fear it's become very blurry...

Eclipse: Want me to fill in the blanks?

Ruin: You know? Oh... H-How bad-?

Eclipse: After you gave a giraffe a taste for meat... Or as close to meat as whatever hotdogs actually are... you hopped onto its head, slid down it's back and the proceeded to ride it out of the zoo screaming 'Viva la Revolution!' while many of the zoo animals chose to escape their enclosures. You rode the giraffe into the center of the city while the other animals released untold destruction upon the area. Your adoring fans, many of which I am guessing were either drunk or just outright under your spell, started blaring the song Wannabe by Spice Girls... Which prompted you to put on what I can only assume to be... An impromptu strip show.

Ruin: Oh no...

Eclipse: Yeah... Where'd you think all this cash came from? Maybe the bar business isn't the business you should have gone into.

Ruin: How did I get home?

Eclipse: At some point you just passed out and right as the police were starting to show up, everyone scattered and I grabbed your drunk ass and dragged you home. You put on your stupid pajamas and then...

(...Ruin spent all night hugging onto Eclipse who was unable to free himself from his partners insane grip. So he had no choice but to just let him sleep next to him all night...)

Eclipse: ...you spent the night on the couch...

Ruin: (Doesn't remember) Bloody hell... Well... At least it's over.

Eclipse: (Reading the newspaper about a man-eating giraffe loose in the city) Uh huh... Sure it is...

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b0g-b0y · 1 year

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Price x M reader ✨NSFW✨

Warnings?

Dom reader, a little bit of age difference but you’re just a year or two younger then soap, drinking, breeding.

A really rough draft really rough…

Anyway I’m never going to finish it so you can have my trash. I got the idea from a post from someone but don’t remember who. Also I’m posting this on my phone so it might look funky.

Also I know I said it’s a really rough draft and it is however I do struggle with writing and reading at times due to a disability please don’t be to mean to me.

———————————————————————

Y/n was new to 141 as well as the youngest y/n should have realized this wouldn’t go well when Ghost left the room quickly, that should’ve been his warning sign. But here he was playing a stupid game of truth and dare with Gaz and Soap that went too far too fast. It was Gaz's turn to ask truth or dare his eyes were on you. “Y/N truth or dare” Gaz spoke as he had a glint in his eyes and a smile that matched. Feeling confident you chose dare in full confidence you said it as well. “ I dare you to tell Price he looks submissive and breedable,” Gaz said. Soap let out a snort almost instantly. Y/N's face got a little red as he thought of his Captain in a way he most definitely shouldn’t be thinking of, however, this was most definitely not the first time he thought of Captain Price in such a way. And Gaz most definitely knew Soap probably didn’t make the connection that y/n liked Price in a sexual way and thought Gaz was just playing a cruel funny joke that would have you in trouble for sure.

After the laughter died down all eyes were on you and it was dead quiet all that could be heard was Gaz opening another beer or two. You snatched the whisky from Soap and took a big sip. “ Fuck you and I’ll fuck your mom's but I ain’t gonna back out I for sure ain’t no bitch “ you said as you stood up. Gaz was surprised he was actually going through with it, Soap on the other hand was a little hurt you would say that about his mom.

Y/n was now searching for Price. Gaz and Soap followed a bit behind him. Y/n found Price he was having tea with Ghost and reading a newspaper, Ghost gave you all a glare, and Price just looked up at you all and raised an eyebrow in question. You stormed over to your Captain and looked him dead in the eyes as you leaned slightly over the sitting man. “Y/N” was all Captain Price spoke. “ Captain… has anyone ever told you that you look really submissive and breedable sir” you said. Price couldn’t believe what words spilled from your mouth but Price being Price he reacted calmly. “ Y/N I think you should go to bed I can smell the boos on you we’ll talk about this in the morning yeah” was all he said. He stood up and led you out of the room to make sure you really did go to bed and had some water. But before he left he asked, “ Ghost take care of those other two blokes ”. You could only assume Ghost did what he was asked.

When it was just you and Price you didn’t dare speak you weren’t drunk but you were getting nervous and the realization of what you had spoken to your Captain sank in. The realization also set in with you that Ghost would chew you up for what happened without remorse. “I’m sorry Captain” left y/n’s lips as a mumble. Y/N couldn’t bring himself to look up at the Captain’s eyes as his confidence was all gone by now. All Y/N got was a pat on the shoulder and a sigh. “ You just had too much to drink yeah” Price looked at y/n. “No sir… I’m 100% sober” y/n sighed his eyes slightly watering. “ Please don’t kick me out of 141 Captain I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have gone through with it we were playing a game and it went too far” the way y/n spoke you could tell he choked down the tears that threatened to spill. You stop walking and Price stopped soon after. Price turned to look at y/ns smaller form. “ y/n I’m not mad just disappointed you're young and you're not the only bloke to blame for this incident I won’t kick you out but you’ll be struck with a light punishment probably laundry duty for a few days” Price was being too kind about this y/n believe he was being too nice and to calm about this. “ Is that all?” y/n asked him.” Yes, should it not be solder” Price was looking dead at you. “ Yes Captain, I think I need something more brutal, not no slap on the wrist for that shit the words I spilled tonight should’ve never been spoken to you especially with your rank” Price let you keep talking he wanted to know what you had to say. “ Sir, no Captain Price I believe you should chew me out and leave me for the dogs for what I said” y/n stopped there he was expecting Price to say something back. “Why do you think so? Why are you taking this to heart soldier?” Price asked. Y/n didn’t dare answer.”Speak soldier I’m talking to you”. His stare hardened.” Yes sir!” you managed to bark out before swallowing hard. “ Captain, I think I need a harsher punishment not only for what I said but because I meant it. I would bend you backward and breed you like a bitch in heat if given the chance hell some nights that’s all I’ll think about is you underneath me whimpering and whining hell what I would give to hear you beg”. Y/n's eyes locked with Price's gaze with every word spoken. John couldn’t believe what you said. All he knew was that you were young and he had to be the bigger man at this moment. “ y/n I truly don’t know what to say how about we finish this tomorrow” Price said. All you did was nod your head before retiring for the night. That night Price would lie in bed thinking about what you said he couldn’t help but think about it very vividly in fact as he did his pants were getting tighter John was conflicted, y/n was definitely a lot younger than him. “ Bloody hell” he felt too old for you yet your confession left a fire in his stomach. John felt guilty for his sinful thoughts and felt even more guilty that his hands sunk into his joggers and found their way around his cock and he only stopped the rough jerking of his cock when he was about to cum. Price only stopped when he realized what he was doing guilt was what he felt. He turned over and tried to go to bed.The next day Price was tense and wasn’t as calm as usual but whoever stopped by his office probably thought it was just from all the paperwork he had been doing. Later that day when you came into his office only after knocking did Price really start to show how pissy he was really feeling. “Y/n I know damn well why you’re here and I’m about bloody fucking sure you’re new punishment isn’t going to be bloody one” Price spoke deeply well giving a look that could kill. “Captain Price?” That was all y/n said. “ Boluks kid, I want you to show me what your thoughts are about me at night. This is an order to meet me in my office at 19:40 sharp understand soldier” you couldn’t believe what Price had said all you did was nod and then leave, you would train and do chores until that time came.

When sparing Ghost didn’t beat you to a pulp surprisingly! He didn’t go easy with Gaz or Soap, however.

Later that night y/n showed up right on time and came into Price's office. “Captain” y/n said. “Y/n” price spoke. Y/n walked closer to Price until he had a leg between his Captains, his hands on Price's hips making small circles and hot breath landing on his neck. “ you sure about this sir” you spoke against his neck making a shiver come from your Captain. “ No I’m not… this is wrong in so many ways. I fear I’m using you like I’m a desperate old man” Price's words didn’t match his body’s as he couldn’t help but lean in. “ Price it doesn’t have to be right, hell I feel as guilty as you. Just being here touching you is such a privilege we can always stop. All you have to do is give me the order my Captain Price my pretty boy hmmmm”. Price gave you a small hum In response and that was all you needed. You moved quickly pushing him down on his desk, your knee against his crotch, and pulling him up by the shirt to give him a messy kiss. After a while of hungry kisses and rubbing Price through his pants with your knee you couldn’t wait much longer. You flipped him around and pulled him to the edge of his desk and yanked his pants down you made sure to run your hands all over his body and give his ass a nice squeeze your hands on both cheeks that soon made circular motions that just got rougher by the minute, Price let out a sharp breath followed by a moan. Your hips pressed against him allowing him to feel your still-clothed cock right at his entrance Price moved closer wanting more of what you were giving, he was now letting out wipers he wanted more he wanted you. “That’s a good boy captain hmmm are you a good boy for me letting me use you as I please? I know you want more but I don’t know if you can handle it. can you captain can you take me can you” the rough handling got harder his captain would be black and blue tomorrow.” Fucking hell mmmmhaaa I need more I want more I’ll be good please, please I I need mmmmha”. Price was babbling pleads for more. He’s been so good for you so you give the man what he wants you pull your pants down and run your cock up and down his ass an pressing the tip in slightly Price was sweating and crying he was so close he wanted to cum he needed to. You grab his cock as you push all the way in and it hurts. The only lub you had was pre cum and spit which only helps so much.” Please wait I” Price never finished he was cut off by his own sobbing moans. “ That’s not an order Sir is it?” You spoke as you slammed into him harder, you rubbed his cock just as hard as your thrusts so much lust and power filled your head. It didn’t take long for John Price to shoot his big load out so much was given and you made sure to milk him dry. He was crying sweating and tired but you weren’t done. Your harsh thrusts didn’t stop until you were close to unloading your cum, your hands spreading his ass and the tip of your cock still inside as you watched your cum slip out and run down the Captain's leg.

#captain john price x male reader #price x male reader #cod x male reader #x male reader

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lemon69lol · 9 months

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Ok. so.

Here’s my Jane Doe isn’t real theory<3

Apologies in advance because this is all over the place

First and foremost:

Karnak read the entire choir's hopes, thoughts, and dreams. The man knew everything about them down to their deepest secrets and you're saying that none of them even so much as had a passing thought about this “last-minute addition to the choir”?

You know Ocean's micromanaging ass would be all over that.

Plus Jane is nowhere to be seen in Fall Fair Suit, You’d think at the very least theird be a gap in the choreography where the 6th member of the choir should be but no.

So then how did “Jane Doe” come about?

I think there was a misprint in the newspaper. We already saw in the 2016 Chicago production that there was a misprint in the way that she was blotched out of the photo, so who’s to say it wasn’t supposed to originally just read “our 5 saints' “.

So now imagine you're in a small town that just went through a horrible tragedy and now the papers are telling you that it was actually 6 children who died. Not the 5 you knew. So who was this 6th kid? How did nobody know about them? And why are you only now hearing about them? Naturally, people are going to start to speculate and make up rumors

(Her story literary sounds like an urban legend your bother tells you to scare the shit out of you before you co to the fair)

Nobody was able to identify her because she was decapitated (how tf do you not find a whole ass head). No parents stepped forward to say their kid was missing or to claim the body. And the only person who would've known for certain, Father Markus, died of a heart attack 7 hr after the fact.

There are even inconsistencies in it. Karnak says himself “Some say she joined the choir at the last minute, others say she was never even in the choir at all”.

I think Karnak continued to read people's fortunes and learned about the rumor of a Jane Doe through them and just assumed they were true. Karnak probably assumed he just didn’t read this mystery 6th kid fortune and that's why he didn't know about her.

Flash forward to when Karnak's bringing the choir into temporary limbo. He gets the main 5s souls easily enough but the 6th? How do you bring back the soul of a girl that doesn't exist? You can’t, but you can unknowingly bring back some weird ass creature that’s been chilling around the carnival.

And so Karnak unknowingly created a Jane Doe, gave it a body in a stcassinas uniform, without a proper head that she had to substitute with a doll's head, Scripted her story and song based off of the little he knew, and bam. We got our Jane Doe, a girl with no clue what’s going on besides what Karnak scripted with a bunch of kids she doesn't know, and is left to figure out what’s going on right along with us.

Right off the bat the choir knows somethings wrong with their “mystery contestant” to the point that ocean straight up calls her a freaky monster and refers to her a a “thing”

She has the head of the doll( obviously), and she moves and walks like she’s never been in a body before. Her voice has an echo/ sounds almost disconnected from her body. And she flies around in her song and in the ESU production she even just straight up had a moment of telekinesis.

Meanwhile, The wildest thing about the choir is that Ricky can speak/ his disabilities are lessened

Tldr the choir accidentally chose some creature to be brought to life as some weird teenager named Penny lamb

#rtc #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone musical #rtc musical #rtc theory #rtc jane doe #jane doe #ride the cyclone jane doe #ride the cyclone the musical #ride the cyclone theory #rtc karnak #the amazing karnak

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nerinefy · 2 years

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. . . HOW WOULD YOU DEFINE YOUR IDEAL GUY? ; FT. THE OLDER BROS.

- FIC INTRO - PART I [YOU'RE HERE] - PART II

— summary: with MC's noticeable influence on RAD's student body, the newspaper club had to get a scoop on what the infamous human had to say about a few things, although one question definitely caught them off guard. let's just say a lot of hidden feelings were revealed afterwards!

— details: pronouns: you/yours | headcanon | crack + fluff | obey me! swd

— tagged list: @my-perfect-machine , @aijlin , & @pleasureoftheclouds

— author's note: guess who got a deadly fever the other day and can't move even a muscle? but seriously i'm very sorry for the late update :') i didn't expect it either.

LUCIFER !

He was in his office working on a few tasks Diavolo had given him that day when he suddenly heard a low buzz from his phone. Not caring much about it, he continued his work, that is when notifications kept popping that it became too much of a distraction. Reaching out to grab the phone, deciding to keep it on silent, he then saw what the fuss was all about.

- Asmodeus: "Hey guys, I think you really need to see this"! (insert pic.)

- Leviathan: "Huh? Oh, they interviewed (Y/N)? What about it?"

- Satan: "It seems that there's one interesting question to be seen below."

"How would you define your ideal guy?"

- "Well, it's hard to make words for it but to keep it simple, he's hardworking and caring. Quite stoic at first but he's a soft and sweet person."

Out of all the things he could see that day, not saying he's complaining, quite the opposite actually. For a while, he thought he might be assuming things too hard. It's all too hard for the old man, why can't you just say it in person, not that he needed any clarifications of course! (No, he does need clarifications, please give this lad answers.)

Bonus! Might invite you for dinner (or to his room lol) that evening— expectedly the only way he can think of to get things straight with you.

MAMMON !

He had just finished a modeling shift and was scrolling through Devilgram when he saw the post. Reading through it, there's one question that certainly caught his eye.

"How would you define your ideal guy?"

- "As weird as this may sound, he's somewhat of a slow person, yet in a fun and chaotic way, it's his charm. He's a kind and sensitive man and is always willing to sacrifice for the sake of others."

It takes him a very long while to process it so it's likely that he'll suddenly squeal like a high school girl while he's in bed (Surprisingly that's how my brain works too.)

Will reread that specific text over and over again, and will automatically assume— not saying that he's wrong.

You should just expect a giddy Mammon to meet you just right after you open your bedroom door the next morning. You can see with just the first glance that this man barely got any sleep, but who cares, he's only happy to know that that's how you see him.

LEVIATHAN !

Just to let you know, even if he sees it, he will never have in mind that you're talking about him— even in any universe out there I assure you. He sees himself in not the best light, so it takes more than that for him to get the message.

Will most likely see it on Devilgram too, as he only scrolls there to see if there are any updates about the new game he's been playing, and he so happens to stumble upon the post.

"How would you define your ideal guy?"

- "Well he's generally shy and a bit out there at the same time, but I love his passion for the things he enjoys and find it quite cute too."

The only question is, when does it click on him? Well, let's just say it's not only him who saw the post and he was definitely getting teased for it that night.

- Belphegor: "It's all to obvious, I can't believe you didn't notice."

- Asmodeus: "Oh (Y/N), I never knew you were that bold to say that, how very passionate of you!"

Cue two goofballs who are too much of a shy blushing mess to even say something. He's not that stupid to not get that. I'm sorry, but he's for sure going to hide from you for a bit after this, there's just too much to take in!

[♡︎] — WILL BE SPLIT INTO THREE PARTS BECAUSE I'M LAZY <3

©nerinefy don't plagiarize, repost, or translate. | reblogs are appreciated!

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farabruh · 5 months

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Leon BPD post

Now, a little disclaimer beforehand: I'm not an expert in mental diseases nor personality disorders, I'm not a psychiatrist or even a psychologist, my knowledge is pretty surface-level. I'm not affirming anything and understand that this is a children's cartoon so the following is nearly impossible to be true, and I'm definitely not trying to offend anybody on purpose. It's just me mumbling about my headcanons, and I'll be interested in hearing your ideas about Leon's mental state, cause he's truly a character tbh.

First of all, what is BPD or borderline personality disorder? It's a mental condition in which person's has drastic mood swings, instability in relationships and self-image.

One of the biggest signs of BPD is fear of abandonment, which Leon clearly shows in s1e8. Actually this is the episode that makes you question his mental health state the most, but I digress. So, in this episode he struggles with feeling left out because of all the lies of some dude, though he never had a good reason to even consider this. That could be connected to paranoia, as he most likely assumed the worst about others and how they view him if his initial thought is that his friend are ganging up on him.

That also leads us to another sign of bpd: unclear self-image. In the same episode Leon has these moments where everyone saying that they should leave him behind and kick him out of the group. Thus, we can assume, that deep inside Leon is not that confident. Furthermore, he always does something to make himself seem to be the best. For example, s1e2 where he wants to be the one to score the final goal or s2e12 where he almost leaves the team to live his dream.

Those moments mentioned above in the 8th episode can be considered as a sign of dissociation too. That is when he breaks down after reading "Marlon's" letter. The voices he hears and the whole change of the surroundings into gray, which, I guess is an artistic choice, however, it still represents him being at his lowest and losing touch with reality.

Another very important sign of bpd is instability in relationships. That often goes along with black and white thinking, which means there's no gray area for those people. It can lead one to either adore or absolutely despise a person. And sometimes the switch can happen in the blink of an eye. Now I don't really remember Leon having a "favorite person", but he does change his attitude towards people who do not what he's expecting from them. Take s1e9 for example, Leon changes his opinion about Markus after finding out he was playing for the other team. While it seems reasonable at first, later on he still refuses to change his mind and even acts as if he doesn't know him. Or in *guess what episode* 8. Marlon immediately becomes his enemy after some lies in the school newspaper. And it's not only about his brother, but the whole team, since all of them were saying bad words about him in his delusions. Also s2e4, a moment with Willi. Yes, everyone thought he abandoned them, but Leon was the first to jump into conclusion...again.

What can also outline bpd is mood swing. Honestly, I can’t remember Leon having those, but I remember one moment from s1e3 where they all came to the field and Leon was like «screw it, I’m out». Maybe that counts as a mood swing? Also, perhaps, the way he acted in the 8th episode can also be considered as a mood swing

Speaking of impulsiveness, it’s definitely s1e1 when he challenges Siegers without thinking. Plus he gets in verbal arguments a lot, though it's more about anger issues.

Now let’s count how many BPD symptoms he has:

Fear of abandonment - yes

Unstable relationships - yes

Unclear or shifting self-image - yes

Impulsive, self-destructive behaviors - yes

Self-harm. Suicidal behavior – no, but obviously you can’t put that in the kid’s show

Extreme emotional swings – mmm, even though there are some moments with it, I wouldn’t say so

Chronic feelings of emptiness - no, not really

Explosive anger - yes

Feeling suspicious or out of touch with reality – yes

6/9 which is enough to get diagnosis.

Another question that can occur: why is he like that?

Well, things that cause BPD can be different, but we wanna look at the child neglect. I’ve already talked about Wessel’s family, but I feel like I need to mention it again. So my theory is that their mother left when they were still at the young age, so their dad had to raise his sons by himself. That could’ve caused trauma for Leon, which later progressed into BPD.

In conlusion,

And I think that’s all I wanted to say. Idk, if you liked this stuff I might do a similar thing with the rest of the gang.

#die wilden kerle #dwk #dwk animated series #die wilden kerle animated series #dwk leon #long post #analysis

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khepiari · 2 years

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One Piece 1053: The three-Three Billon Bounty Dilemma! And my birthright to comment on it! [Contains Spoilers]

{Okay, I have read chapter 1053. First of all Green Bull is scary. Secondly, Robin is safe, phew. Third, Pulton is on Wano.}

Since last night I have been laughing at Captain Buggy-Sama becoming the New Emperor! Underneath Buggy meme tweets I have been seeing people getting miffed about Luffy sharing same Bounty amount with Law and Kid, and how it makes them angry when Luffy defeated Kaido alone, and Law and Kid defeated Big Mom.

I am sorry, but you are reading the situation of the bounties is wrong. To World Government bounties were never method of power scaling, bounties are a means to judge their enemies’ threat level. They hyped Luffy up with his first bounty of 30 million to catch the attention of bounty hunters, they had assumed Luffy would be eradicated if his bounty was higher, either by them or pirate hunters! But that backfired, instead it gave Luffy the attention that made him an enigma from east blue.

We as a reader are getting the story told from an aware narrator perspective. But the events in One Piece universe are not linear or widely talked about. We have been with Luffy from the beginning, but the people of One Piece world hear about Luffy only when something drastic happens, and the bounties and the newspapers are the best means to explain this broken information trail.

Since the beginning of story other than us the readers, the only other people who know Luffy’s potential is World Government and Marines. Luffy, took down marines, pirates, kings, warlords within months of his debut on the seas. World Government knows he is a/the illogical invariable in their grand scheme of equations of ruling. Hence they placed the credit of Crocodile’s down fall on Smoker and Tashigi.

Similarly they must have hidden his actions with Captain Morgan, Captain Nezumi and more. By the time World Government realised Luffy was not a easy fly to catch he had already arranged an admirable crew, they jumped his bounty to 100 million, this time to attract other pirates who liked taking down rookies. Latest example of it being Kid trying to immediately eliminate Luffy after learning about his Emperor status!

And the 100 million bounty worked, Blackbeard came all the way to Jaya to catch Luffy, because offering his head to Marines would earn him shichibukai aka warlord title. Marines and World Government have always used bounties to spread the message they wanted the world to see. They hid the D. In Roger’s name, because Germa paid them or used their influence, they removed the wanted DEAD from Sanji’s poster, they can freeze bounty. Each poster is a message and threat and a boast that no matter how powerful a pirate is World Government can measure it in berries.

The world outside Wano will never learn of Luffy’s contributions, very much like, Alabasta, Dressrosa, Thriller Bark or Drum Island. At best Luffy is a legend; Lucy to Dressrosa, a cocky pirate friend of Chopper’s in Sakura, Luffylando to fairies or a warrior from Noland’s world to Skypiea people. The world knows of Luffy more is because of the den-den mushi mishap of Marineford, the entire world got to see him in action on the light scrolls. It is after Ace’s death that Luffy used World Government’s methods to trick them into believing he is ringing the ox bell to start new era, but it was actually to deliver his message to the crew.

Now let’s come to 3 billion berri new Emperor.

World Government wanted to remove the D. from the posters, the photograph printed of Luffy’s was not the approved one. Right now we are witnessing the display of 800 years of utter incompetency of the World Government, lack of communication between the five elders aka the Gorosei and Marines. Marines or World Government actually hired the same guys to print their posters who print the newspapers! A twittering Media Moghul Brid, who has been covering Luffy’s story since Marineford, named him the Fifth Emperor of Sea weeks back It shows us two things, World Government’s own network is broken and they have been in power for so long is all because of Mighty Marine Manpower.

Luffy, Law, Kid sharing same bounty amount is nothing but an attempt to cover up Luffy’s potential from the world. Why call him an emperor and not the other two or why is his bounty same with other two when he fought thrice them; all these thoughts are redundant when seen from narrative context.

The title of emperor comes not based on who you defeated or what you did, it comes from what your name holds. Blackbeard earned the warlord title, but he became Emperor only when he began taking over islands under his banner. Shanks has territories and allies all over grandline and he can stop WAR. We may laugh at Buggy-Sama, but he filled the arms trade void left by Doffy, Buggy also has cult like followers, may be it is by fluke, but influence is influence.

Luffy at this point is the most chaotic element in the world; a walking god that can communicate with sea kings and a cursed depressive elephant, a D. with a Grand Fleet of reputed captains with 5640 people, an Island under his flag, three allies from worst generation, a handful of kingdoms who are supportive of him, a diabolical grandfather, a criminal father, a dead notorious brother and another revolutionary brother, has amicable alliance with two worst generations. As for crew members he has a woman the only one in the world with knowledge of poneglyphs, an exiled prince, a former bounty hunter, a cyborg who knows the mechanics of Pulton, an ancient musician who has mysterious past, a liar who swayed the population against Doffy. These are few feathers on Luffy’s hat.

But World Government also doesn’t want Luffy to stand out much, and their intel collection is flawed. They believe what they hear and photographs they received. In their eyes, three worst generation rookies teamed up to defeat two emperors. Not only that, it is also a way of discrediting Luffy’s name, he maybe an emperor but he is not any better than his fellow peers, they have been trying to co-opt Luffy for their propaganda for days. But the initial aim of this decision backfired, the poster was meant to convey Luffy is just another Pirate who shot up the ranks, by omitting his D. and using his regular photos. Now people can clearly see he is not another rookie from his white bright as bulb, photo, people who know about DFs will understand he has awoken and people and creatures who have been awaiting the return of Joyboy/Sun God Nika might connect the dots! So new allies and new enemies will both come for Luffy now!

The three sharing same bounty amount is not Odachii undermining Luffy, it is World Government who has been repeatedly trying to erase Luffy from the existence of the narrative they have been trying to tell. Justice belongs to the victor, Luffy has with a steady speed been countering the story, it began with Marineford, the world saw there is no good or bad in violence. World Government and marines are meant to protect people, but throughout the story they have proved otherwise their goal is to maintain power, it never mattered if a country was brought to ruins. Fujitora is the first to accept responsibility of World Government’s failure, negligence and incompetence, the doubt in justice began with Kuzan, Koby wants to protect true justice that’s why he joined marines, Tashigi cried when she realised her job to protect people of Alabasta was done by Pirates, the marines who care follow their own code of justice, biggest example being Garp. There is going to be a fall out between the World Government and Marines in coming days, as the ruler and the execution bodies are no longer in sync. The three billion bounty poster is a last desperate attempt by World Government to control the narrative.

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unhonestlymirror · 8 months

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I actually find funny how Gojo asks Geto, "You're gonna kill all the non-sorcerers and create a world with sorcerers only?" That's the "Aliens and America" trope.

Cause, as long as I remember, thanks to Tengen's barrier, about 99% of all sorcerers are in modern Japan. According to manga's map, there should be no sorcerers on occupied by russia Chishima and Karafuto territories, which is also funny: geopolitics influence the number of sorcerers. Although everyone behaves like it shouldn't.

I think what Gege tried to say by that American military arc is that if they tried to occupy Japan and "liberate them from evil spirits"... would Tengen's barrier update? XD How would it change, and by what logic? Does Tengen sit in her barrier reading newspapers and like, "Oh shit, non-sorcerers occupied Chishima and Karafuto, update the data!!!"

I don't believe it should work like this. Why? The answer is imperialism. Imperialism for countries is like Candida albicans for humans: it's present in everyone in small quantities, but if you neglect your health and let it multiply - not only will you ruin the mood of those around you, but you will also be in danger of death.

Every country is this or that way imperialistic, and Japan, as former empire, should be thrice as such. And it actually is. They draw Chishima and Karafuto as occupied territories on school maps nowadays. I highly doubt a state that draws its territories as occupied in school textbooks would remove Tengen's barrier from them. Unless a higher-up Tengen has higher prorussian higher-ups than her.

If Geto studied history a little better, he would know that genocide never ends good for those who genocide. Hitler killed around 30 million people - and it's about 2-3% of the world population. It's like modern Texas. Did Hitler achieve his goal? No. Did Hitler make himself a non-human who is perceived even worse than Satan? Yes.

Maximum any genocider can reach is to clean a certain territory AND fill it with someone else. Look at russia and Ukraine. Look at russia and Belarus. Look at Azerbaijan and Armenia. Look at Mongolian empire, Roman empire, Conquistadors, etc, etc.

Did Geto want to methodically, with understanding what he wants to reach, kill all non-sorcerers? As far as it seems, no. Because of Tengen's words about Japan being the main curse energy producing factory, it's not very clear to me whether Geto wanted to kill all non-sorcerers in Japan's borders or in the whole world. In the whole world, it's just NOT POSSIBLE to do. Not even empires with billions of people were able to do that. A one person just can't do it without destroying the planet completely - and it wasn't Geto's goal to destroy the planet completely.

I suppose he wanted to kill all the non-sorcerers in Japan at first. But once again, there are Chishima and Karafuto (status unknown), and there are AXILLARY MANAGERS who are non-sorcerers who can control their cursed energy. Let's assume that Geto wanted to clear Japan's territory at first - whom was he gonna fill it with? As Belaruthians say, Nature abhors the void. Whom was he gonna fill the world with if LOTS OF SORCERERS come from NON-SORCERERS FAMILIES, like Haibara Yu, like Ijichi Kiyotaka, like Nanami Kento, like Yuta Okkotsu who didn't know he had a far sorcerer ancestor.

Yuki Tsukumo said that killing all non-sorcerers is a decent plan, the easiest way to create a world without curses. Yuki Tsukumo lied to Geto Suguru, and I still don't understand why, considering she also mentioned she's chasing the second option - make all of humanity control their cursed energy - which is actually the fastest and easiest way, with many possible solutions: from inventing a some kind of "vaccine" or something to simply widespread by government programs to teach the population how to deal with curses. Or actually all of that. If you see that the sorcerers are not coping with their task, well, involve the average people. It's like with a drowning person. If you know that a child is drowning, you won’t go looking for him alone across the sea. You ask all the people on the beach to join hands and walk along the shoreline a few meters into the sea.

However, as we can see, Japanese government, including sorcerers higher-ups, didn't give a single fuck about less and less sorcerers being able to do their job and remain alive and healthy. Why? Because the JJK Japanese government was a financed marionette by someone who wanted Japan to collapse. I would bet on Kenjaku and China. Otherwise, I have no idea what that chapter was with Kenjaku speaking Chinese for. Yuki Tsukumo, as someone who cared, must have noticed that. Maybe she tried to involve herself in politics, by "fucking around taking trips overseas", maybe she even played political games with Kenjaku. But she was unguarded, and she relied too much on "impotent UN" Tengen, for which she payed.

Yuki lied to Geto, or rather shifted his focus, and it was very easy to do because he was 1)clearly traumatized teen, with vulnerable mental state, 2)on the verge of the mental illness, 3)most likely already with hidden xenophobic beliefs. What for? I suppose the goal was to separate him and Gojo, considering that highlighting on "the three of us special grades" - Yuki is not dumb, and she must have guessed that Geto would have questioned his own special gradeness after Toji incident:

The whole conversation Yuki&Geto is such an obvious taking "on a dare". Unfortunately, people are not very good at expressing why they find Yuki suspicious, which ends in demonising Yuki Tsukumo. I suppose those people who know how it is - to be vulnerable mentally - dislike her the most.

Did Yuki cause Geto's fall? Nah, I think people exaggerate her role in Geto's character. Geto would have fallen anyway, she just made it happen faster, for her own unclear motives.

A world without non-sorcerers simply can not exist, just like the russian empire can not exist without Ukrainians and all the other people they genocided because it was built on them. They have been killing so many people with such pleasure that most of russia's territory is now simply empty and is about to be partitioned and consumed by countries that have overpopulation because the Nature abhors the void.

I love how Gege highlights the well-known drama of fighting a villain by dynamic action, awesome artstyle, some civil stuff and "WOW SUKUNA VS GOJO SATORU" while hiding the fact they are technically going through war, through partitioning of JJK Japan by other states, which fight for resources like that Gojo in a box, and maybe something more. JJK Japan is, in fact, alternative universe Ukraine, which was occupied by russia for 3 days. That's why JJK manga is very important to me. Gege doesn't use straightforward language, and that's why people are so confused and say, "Gege is so dumb, why would he include American military?" - Gege is actually very smart. He just believed more people would be interested in the background, I guess. Maybe that's why he gave up and decided to finish this manga asap with EPIC FIGHTS only.

P.S. Anticipating questions like, "JJK China would not fight for JJK Japan, JJK Japan is too small" - my brother in Ra, China fights for fucking Taiwan, have you ever seen the size of Taiwan?

#rambling #jjk thoughts #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #yuki tsukumo

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savemewattpad · 11 months

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Wicked and Divine: Part 1, Chapter 2

all her life, she’s bound to lose…

Summary:

When John Winchester gets a call from a thirteen-year-old girl claiming to be his daughter, he and Dean go to investigate, bringing them into a complicated web woven by a charismatic cult leader named David Elwood–who also claims to be the girl’s “husband.”

Or, how Esther Smith became Leila Winchester.

Chapter Summary: Dean and John attend a cult meeting.

Warnings: Sexual Abuse, Religious Abuse, Cults, Child Marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage

Pairings: None

Last Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Read on AO3

There’s a tension in the silence between John and his son as they sit on opposite sides of the diner booth. It’s this endless loop of quiet understanding: Dean isn’t happy to learn about his father’s dalliance. John knows he’s not happy. Dean knows John knows he’s not happy, and John knows Dean knows that John knows that he’s not happy. And nothing is said about it.

The diner they’ve found themselves in is crowded with the breakfast rush, and Dean is pensive as he stares out the window. John can’t fault him; he’s just found out he may or may not have another sibling who may or may not be in danger.

If John wasn’t as good at compartmentalizing as he is, he’d be consumed with the same topic of thought. He is that good at compartmentalizing, though, and he flips through the newspaper as they wait for the waitress to take their order.

John’s mind is always on alert, always making connections, and he often has to scan his own thoughts for paranoia, to discern whether the alarms going off in his mind are a real sign of a case or just the result of living the way he has for fifteen years. The obituary section has the alarm ringing. Multiple mysterious deaths from the last few months, all young. A few cops, an FBI agent, a reporter or two. All died of hypothermia.

One thing at a time, he tells himself.

The diner is in Carolina, Oregon. It’s the same place he met Melisa Candan almost fifteen years ago. He chose a booth on the opposite side of the diner. It’s the paranoia again. Part of him thinks something about that case must have been cursed.

The waitress arrives, middle-aged but energetic. “Good morning, boys, what can I get you?” Two black coffees, two classic breakfasts, burn the bacon for John’s. She leaves. The coffees come a few minutes later, and within minutes John’s mind is awake and thinking clearly.

The obituary observation was not paranoia, he feels, and then sets it aside. One thing at a time.

“Woodscross,” he says without preamble. “What did she mean by Woodscross?”

“Maybe she was wrong about what state she’s in. Is there a Woodscross in Washington, maybe?”

John shakes his head. He’s actually not sure that there’s not; he just knows that he never met a woman named Melisa in Washington. It has to be near Carolina. Too much of a coincidence otherwise.

“Maybe there’s a street called Woodscross,” John muses.

“What’s this about Woodscross?” the waitress asks as she sets their food down. John doesn’t get snuck up on easily. Maybe he’s not as good at compartmentalizing as he thought, at least when it comes to this.

Dean looks up at her, smiling charmingly. “We got a call from a friend asking us to meet him there,” he lies easily. John wishes, not for the first time, that he could’ve given his son a life where he didn’t have to learn to lie so well. “Do you happen to know where it is?”

“The only Woodscross around here is the Gibborim community that lives out in the woods.”

“Gibborim?” Dean repeats incredulously. “That new-age cult?” And then John remembers the Gibborim bible on Melisa’s nightstand. Of course. How could he not realize?

Well…he knows why. Over the past fourteen years, on the rare occasion that Melisa Candan has crossed his mind, he’s always assumed–hoped–that she’d made it out of Gibborim. The cult had reached its peak in the mid-nineties, and most sects had died out by the new millenia.

Apparently not all of them, though.

The waitress shakes her head. “This is an offshoot. They’re more old-fashioned. And I wouldn’t call it a cult around them, but…”

“Where can we find Woodscross?” John asks her, trying not to sound as urgent as he feels.

“It’s about ten miles north into the woods by Clinton street,” the waitress replies. “You have to go off the trail about five miles in. But between you and me? I’d call your friend and ask to meet somewhere else.”

John and Dean look at each other.

“Can you bring us the check?” John asks.

The ground is surprisingly level even off-trail, and they find Woodscross late that afternoon. It’s almost militaristic looking, surrounded by tall fences with barbed wire at the top, a stark contrast to the wood cabins, gardens, and farmland inside.

When they reach the gates, the guards ask their names. They’re dressed in handmaid clothes, but John can tell they’re carrying guns.

Dean opens his mouth to give them their current aliases, but John’s instincts advise otherwise, and he gets in before Dean can speak. “John and Dean Winchester,” he says, ignoring the look his son shoots him. “We were hiking. New to the area, got lost a few hours ago.”

He expects them to give his directions back to the road, to have to push back on that and ask for more help. Instead, one of the guards runs into the compound to “ask for guidance.” When he returns, he’s not alone.

John knows he’s the man in charge even before he identifies himself as such. He’s tall and thin, with gray hair and military posture and an unsettling calm about him.

“Hello,” he says, in a voice that feels smoother than it should be. “I’m David Elwood. I hear you’ve had trouble navigating the woods?” He holds out a hand. John shakes it, and then Dean does the same.

“You heard right. Would it be an imposition if we stayed and rested awhile? It’s been a long day.” John smiles in a sort of apologetic aw-shucks way.

“A long and hot day. I imagine you must be hungry, too. We have a church service starting soon, you’re welcome to attend; after that, you can join us for dinner, and then we’ll drop you off back in town, if you’d like.”

Cars, guns, phones–they’re not averse to using technology when it suits them. John files it away for future reference.

“That’s mighty kind of you,” he says.

The church is another log cabin, but this one with a steepled roof covered in solar panels. The service is strange and Dean understands, now, why they call Gibborim a cult. David’s sermon is vague and emotionally charged all at once, emphasizing obedience without specifying what that entails. It’s about Jesus, and about David himself–their prophet, their leader, God’s servant–and sometimes it seems like David might be hinting at aliens.

There’s a girl in a chair behind the pulpit, scribbling something in a book. She’s got dark, curly hair and olive skin, with two beauty marks, one above and one below the side of her mouth. She’s clearly young, fourteen at the absolute most. Too young to be as pregnant as she is. And as hard as Dean tries to pay attention to everything else going on, trying to file away as much information as possible for later, his attention keeps coming back to her. There are angry red marks on her wrists, barely visible below the sleeve of her shirt.

Dean doesn’t realize the service has ended until people around him start standing up. John stands, too, and then Dean follows his lead, but his eyes don’t move from the girl behind the pulpit. David goes over to her, takes her hand and guides her to her feet, and kisses her on the forehead. Then he gestures towards Dean and his father, and the girl turns wide, curious brown eyes onto them.

David leads her over to them. “Gentlemen, this is Esther Elwood. She’s my wife and helpmeet.” He has this smile on his face–calm, small, casual, but it feels like he’s daring them to object to their marriage, to her pregnancy, to her age.

Dean can tell John is seething with as much rage as he is. He stays calm. Dean follows his lead. But he could swear that David can tell they’re angry, that he’s delighting in it.

John smiles and extends a hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Esther,” he says. “I’m John Winchester. This is Dean.”

Something clicks in Esther’s dark eyes. Recognition, and something like hope. This is the girl.

“I’m sorry, women aren’t allowed physical contact with men outside of their families,” David says apologetically. “You understand.”

That’s not a woman, that’s a child.

“Entirely. My apologies, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Not at all,” David says. Then he looks down at the girl. “Go ahead.”

Esther smiles a little. “This is for you,” she says quietly, and holds out the book she was writing in to John. The marks around her wrist are more marked close up, and they look like rope burns to Dean. It doesn’t escape his notice, either, that this is the first sentence Esther has said to them directly. He wonders if that’s how it always is, David speaking for her, or if David is creating a wall between his “wife” and the outsiders.

John takes the book, careful not to let their fingers brush. It’s a Gibborim bible.

“Thank you, Esther,” John says politely. “That’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, again in that soft, hesitant voice.

David looks down at her. “Go and study with the other women,” he says. Esther nods and looks at John and Dean. “It was very nice to meet you both,” she says politely, and then leaves.

“You’re welcome to join us for the Patriarch’s class,” David tells them. “We usually have dinner after that.” It doesn’t escape Dean’s notice that this isn’t the original plan he’d invited them into.

“That sounds just fine,” John says, and Dean nods, following his lead.

David leaves to go talk to the other church-goers, and Dean finds himself watching him. Something about him feels sinister, like at any moment he could pull the rug from under their feet in a way they’d never see coming.

“Dean,” John says, and Dean’s attention snaps back to his father. “Look.”

John is holding the Gibborim bible open casually, like he’s just curious about it, but Dean can tell that he’s seething again. He looks down at the book.

The words “HELP ME” are written in large, childish handwriting on the first page.

#marvel oc #supernatural oc #spn oc #ocappreciationtag #winchester sister #wicdiv1 #mine

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