#and posting ab my graduation ;;

[potential-fate]

“It’s a beautiful house, don’t you think?” his mother looked at him excitedly. He wasn’t sure she’d ever been this excited about real estate before. 

“Uh… yeah. It’s great.” 

“You don’t like it…” She frowned slightly. 

“No, mom it’s a great house,” Abe bit his lip, “I was just… expecting something…. Smaller?” 

Abe tried not to grimace. Smaller wasn’t right. ‘Less permanent’ was more accurate. When his mother had told him he needed to come home to help her with business, he couldn’t really refuse. 

When he tried to say he couldn’t afford it, and that there was no room at her house with the three younger Chun kids, she’d said she’d house him. And when he’d attempted to use Callum as a scapegoat to get out of it…

#arkhelios #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #the sims 2 #ts2 #my posts #Arkh Ch4 #So you have an idea #the fight between Roman and Callum happened mid-late June #Very end of the semester right before graduation #Abe Chun #Elaine Chun-Helios #ChunR4

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)

Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.

He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).

Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.

After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve. 

Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.

“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.

“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”

“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.

Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before. 

Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.

“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.

“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”

Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”

“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”

“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”

“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”

“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.

And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.

“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.

“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”

Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.

He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–

“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.

“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”

‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..

“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach. 

Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.

“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.

His very well sculpted shoulders.

And arms.

And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..

Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”

“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”

Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.

He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.

When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.

The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.

Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.

“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.

Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.

“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.

Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”

Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.

“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”

“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.

Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”

“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”

Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”

“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.

They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.

He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.

He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.

“Eddie–”

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.

He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.

“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.

“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”

“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.

Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”

“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”

“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.

Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.

He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.

“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back. 

Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.

“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.

“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”

Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”

Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.

He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.

“I think that sounds amend—-”

Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.

“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”

Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”

“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”

“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”

“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.

Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.

“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.

He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”

“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”

“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Very.”

“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”

“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”

“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.

“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”

“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”

Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”

He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.

“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”

part 2/2 here | and on AO3!

definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #st #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington having a crush on bon jovi is canon okay? #noelle writes

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey,  @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #coryo snow

[ilygetou]

CHEERLEADER STUDENT GOT CAUGHT FUCKING OLD PERVERT! ft. toji fushiguro

PA1R1NG$: pervert! toji fushiguro x fem! cheerleader! reader.

$YNOPSIS: you have been a cheerleader for so long, and your highschool finally, decided to open a cheerleading club just when you were about to graduate but that still didn‘t stop you from joining the club (and fucking the club leader). the person who runs the club was a old man who looked like he was in his mid forties, you took a liking to this old guy, so you promised yourself that you won‘t be graduating until you get his attention, and you did, way more than his attention though.

C/W: you got caught, creampie, blowjob, cum swallowing, slight degrading, slight nipple play, age gap (toji in his mid thirties while reader’s age is not mentioned but is an adult), groping, spit, fingering, clothed sex (?), dacryphilia, rough sex, overstimulation, no after care, little bit of crack at the end.

N0TE: this is nasty, i‘m sorry. (kinda rushed).

last post until kinktober!! :))

your highschool had just opened an cheerleading club—it was finally your time to shine, you‘ve been practicing cheerleading every since you were young. You‘re mom seemed to like it, so she had you practice it, at a very young age.

you were planning on entering this new cheerleading club, to show off your moves—but the problem was, you were in your last year of highschool, meaning you‘d only get a short amount of time to participate in this club.

you didn‘t care though—not anymore, now that you saw the person who runs the club. your excitement came rushing straight back.

it was an old man with the name of; ‘Toji fushiguro’ he looked like he was in his mid forties but was very good looking, very attractive for his own age. He has black hair that suits him very well— a big scar on the side of his lips that he got from god knows what. he wears a tight black shirt that hugs his abs so well, flexing them and showing them off, he wore an oversized white pants along the shirt. His fit was very basic but it looked so hot on him.

Now— it has been two weeks since you joined the club, and not once has toji every praised your moves, despite you being the best out of all the girls.

You thought that you were doing bad, so bad that you didn‘t deserve to earn a single praise.

you weren‘t upset about it though, because you know you‘re good, and this was just Mr. Fushiguro‘s cold personality. So, you decided to ask him to watch you play, the two of you, alone.

“you want me to watch you practice?” you nodded your head “and why should i do that?” you let out a frustrated sigh, hesitant to talk, you looked on the floor before letting out another sigh.

“it‘s because you don‘t seem to approve of my moves, i‘m trying to do my best—but not once has you praised my moves and it makes me feel like i‘m not doing good enough to earn your approval.”

toji snickers causing you to furrow your eyebrows, “its cheerleading y/n, not that serious of a sport—i don‘t have to praise you or comment on your moves, you should be the one who knows whether you‘re doing good or bad, not me.”

you shook your head, this was not the reason why you want him to watch you practice. “Mr. fushiguro, could you please just watch me?” you pleaded, eyes batting and lips forming into a pout.

toji clicked his tongue and then let‘s out a frustrated groan, “fine.”

you dragged toji to the empty cheerleading club room and then seated him on one of the seats, “m‘kay! ’m gonna start now.” You first started with little stretches, giving toji your back and stretching your hands till they reached your ankles.

flashing toji your ass — due to you giving him your back. your baby pink panties hugging your fat pussy lips so well, a wet damp on your panties that was visible to toji.

toji couldn‘t help but stare, cupping his crotch in his hands in order to hide his boner.

you then turn to face toji, and start with a simple motion, moving your hands up and down. And then you started doing a high V and a low V.

so far, your were doing so well — doing basic cheerleading moves. you then started doing the clasp, your arms by your sides you then bend your arms at your elbow, and then cup your hands together and clap.

your panties were being flashed to toji with every move you made, making it uncomfortable for toji to sit as his boner kept getting bigger, his boxers getting tighter — making toji shift uncomfortably.

toji knows what he‘s doing was wrong, staring and eyeing his students private areas. what kind of fucking teacher would do that?

despite you moving and focusing on your moves, you noticed tojis very obvious bulge, turning your back again — and bending over, flashing your ass once again to your teacher.

you were getting close to where toji was seated, moving teasingly and slowly with your ass on full view. from what toji can tell, this was not a cheerleading move.

you started rubbing your ass against toji’s crotch, moving up and down on his clothed dick as he threw his head back — not complaining or scolding you, not telling you that what you‘re doing is wrong. because, he‘s enjoying it. just like the pervert he is.

toji placed both of his hands on the flesh of your ass, your round ass that felt so soft. you stopped your movements and turned to toji, getting on your knees before tugging down his pants and freeing his hard cock, “Mr. Fushiguro, you‘re soo big” you said, looking up at toji with doe-eyes.

you gave the tip of his cock a lick before sliding his whole length into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you played with his balls.

“f-fuck, what a fucking whore — sucking on your teachers d-dick–! shiiit.”

toji was letting out low grunts — pulling on your hair to push his cock deeper inside your mouth, his cock twitching as he came deep inside your throat. making you swallow his cum.

“m-mr. fushiguro, w-will you fuck m-me? p-please?” you slide down your panties and spread your pussy lips apart, revealing your tight hole to toji that was dripping with slick — begging to be filled and fucked with toji‘s dick.

toji let out a groan before running his fingers on your wet folds — and spitting on them, pushing one thick finger in, which made you let out an audible moan. thrusting his finger in and out of your tight pussy, in so much speed.

“a-ah!” your moans echoed throughout the club‘s walls, wet sound also being heard.

“c-cumming!!” you came all over toji‘s digit, white fluids covering his fingers. toji took ahold of your waist and seated you on his lap, he cupped your breast and started groping them, pinching your nipples from above the fabric of your shirt.

you were letting out low whimpers as you bite the bottom of your lip, trying to surpass any type of sound from slipping.

toji rubbed your nipples — occasionally, pinching them and twisting them.

you had your face covered with your hands as you were too embarrassed to show toji how drool was dripping down your chin from his teasing.

“mmm, your tits so fucking soft — shit – your nipples so hard too, would be bad if i didn‘t suck on em’ right?” you eagerly nod your head, slurring “please” as toji licked your nipples.

you were squirming in your place as toji licked your nipples so roughly, biting on them gently — causing you to let out a loud whimper of his name. your cunt getting wet by the second, making a huge mess on toji’s lap.

“fuck baby — your pussy is makin’ a big mess on my lap, how do ya’ think we should solve this problem?” toji said, a sadistic smile on his face as his hands went in between your legs and pinched your clit which made you let out a muffled sob.

“p-please” you pleaded, toji chuckled at your desperateness, “please what? can’t understand if all you’re going to say is please.” you let out a sob and gripped tojis shirt as you looked up at him with teary eyes, “please fuck me, t-toji.”

toji stared at you with awe, you saying his name turned something within him because without wasting a second toji got up & picked you up before pinning you against a wall, so roughly.

moving his hips, toji slides his cock against your folds, throwing his head back and groaning, he rubs his cock along your pussy a few times, teasing you both as the veins of his cock throb and glide through your puffy folds.

toji slowly pushed the head of his cock inside your dripping cunt, your slick coating his length before he fully pushed in.

the sharp pain of being stretched made you let out a muffled scream, and the tense squeeze of your insides making toji lose all self control.

he begun his rough and fast thrusts, jolting his hips against you as he threw his head back the warmth of your cunt getting toji closer to his climax.

“s-so hot, so tight, fuckk”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head with ever jolt of tojis hips, your mind was fuzzy, you couldn’t think or comprehend anything, the only thing eating your mind was the feeling of toji’s big dick abusing your cunt.

“c-can’t — can’t anymore, tojiii”

you felt your orgasm hit faster than you’ve expected — milking toji’s cock dry. calloused hands making their way to your neck and slowly squeezing them.

rutting inside you despite you just cumming making you let out uncontrollable moans and whimpers, his cock hitting your g-spot, repeatedly. getting another orgasm out of you.

“fuckin’ greedy bitch — cumming twice now, f-fuck, what about me? huh? you were the one who started this after all.”

toji tightened his grip on your neck, thrusting inside you more roughly, “t-tight pussy takin’ me so well, oh fuckk—!”

with just a few more thrusts toji felt his orgasm hit him, his cock twitching inside you as ropes of thick cum filled you up.

tojis grip on your neck loosened up a bit, he was panting — trying to regain his breath before he slowly pulled out of you, his cock softened, nicely.

before toji could tuck his cock back in a loud thud of the clubs door was heard, causing both you and toji to jump.

“huh?” there stood a guy with a darkish hair color and spiky hair, he looked so disgusted and so confused. “oh! m-megumi!” you spoke, a unintentional smile plastered on your face as you waved a hi to megumi.

“what the fuck were you doing?” toji didn’t have any reaction, he didn’t even have a shocked expression he just sat there, emotionless.

“what do you think?” it was tojis turn to speak, megumi felt himself boil up with anger and disgust — without arguing any further he just left.

“what is wrong with that boy?” toji muttered, you brushed it off and looked up at toji with a huge grin on your face, “Mr. Fushiguro, can i have your number?”

toji looked at you confused, “no? of course not.” your brows furrowed and a pout covered your lips, “but you just fucked me!”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader smut #toji scenarios #toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jjk toji #toji thirst #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[joshlmbrt]

Beautiful Boy. truck driver!dad! e. munson x mom!reader.

w; this one is long - i apologize, r is intended as a female but i try to be nondescript as best as i could ( i use the pronouns she/her BUT you can always change if you’d like <3 ), i don’t know much about soccer so pls ignore how i absolutely demolish it, mentions of cheating - not eddie, jason is mean - as always - but this time it’s uncalled for, chance is non-verbal, little injury, eddie absolutely loses it in front of parents and kids - but it’s needed honestly, eddie’s self-deprecating thoughts, fluff ending

thank you @reidsbtch & @officerrrfriendly for beta reading !!! i love u both.

an; thought about this little idea and i love the idea of truck driver!eddie so im continuing the alt au! i hope you guys love him just as much as i do 🧸 (if u seen the post ab me taking a small break - no u didn’t … jk, after this i won’t post for a while </3 just wanted to post this.)

Eddie hated being around people.

Not just people. But people he knew and went to school with - the ones that called him a freak.

Although, Eddie had found you and he was the first one out of anyone - when he finally put his mind to it and graduated - to get married.

So, everyone who made fun of him, suck it!

“Hun, can you get his duffel bag out, please?” You slip out of the car, opening the back door. Sometimes he missed his van - the one you despised and desperately told him to trade in for this mini van - but then he realizes how much it actually came in handy.

You hold Chance’s hand when he hops out of the car, kneeling down and tying his shoes. Whenever Eddie would tie them, he would immediately walk away and find you, wordlessly holding his foot out - Eddie never got them tight enough. They would always untie in the middle of the game.

“You’re gonna do so good, baby! I just know it.” You switch to tie the other shoe. Eddie circles around the car after locking it, placing a hand on Chance’s head.

“Absolutely. He’s a Munson.” He smirks down at the boy. It took a little time for Eddie to realize that being a part of the Munson Bloodline wasn’t all bad like people had made him believe.

Sometimes they would lose - but in the long run, they somehow always win in the end.

His win - you and Chance.

There’s a whistle that had been directed towards the small group of you, Chance, and himself. It caused Eddie to look up quickly. It wasn’t the type of whistle to catch someone’s attention that you had been friends with for a while - no - it was a whistle little boys did when they seen a woman they thought was pretty.

“Oh, my bad.” The smirk was familiar and made Eddie’s blood run hot.

Jason Carver.

Divorced three times and had two kids (They both are the same age - you can be sure what had happened there and why they both are the same age) . He's married again, but she’s at the car getting the chairs out and small cooler with capri-sun’s for the little tots and beer for Jason.

It wasn’t allowed, but it was Jason Carver, and sometimes someone’s privilege was so blindingly noticeable.

You peek up at Eddie, watching as his jaw clenches. “Eds,” You say. “Eddie,” He finally looks down at you. You shake your head. “He’s not worth it. Don’t waste your breath.”

He can distinctly hear Julia - his new wife who was most likely about to hit him with divorce papers - complain as she shoves the chairs into his arms. His eyes peek up, watching as they both walk away. He only nods, looking back down at you.

“Breathe, Eds.”

And suddenly, he could breathe again. There was a shudder to the first breath he took - but it felt nice. Rather than holding it in anger until he passed out.

You give him a small smile before fixing Chance’s green shirt. You press a quick kiss to his forehead, standing and holding a hand out for him. He immediately slips his hand into yours, following you towards the field.

Eddie glances around, scratching at his neck when he passes a group of people who peaked in high school - better known as the basketball and football team.

There were a couple of them that were fine - not as rude. And he was sure that the whispers he heard wasn’t about him in particular, but there’s some side of him that feels as if the hushed conversation was about him - or worse, his little mini me.

Chance had been quiet. He doesn’t know why or if it will ever change - a part of him hopes it does because he wants to hear his tiny voice. But if it never changed, Eddie would still love him either way.

And if anyone - including a kid - said anything about it, he’s not afraid to go to jail after knocking out some teeth and lose his job over it.

He drops the duffel bag, kneeling down in front of Chance. “Remember what I told you?” He tilts his head. “This is supposed to be fun, just remember that.”

Chance smiles and nods. He looked grown - the tooth that he had lost making a slow comeback.

“Now, go get them, Champ.” He stands, clapping as he runs to meet the rest of his team.

You peek over at him, smiling softly with a fluttering heart and pink cheeks. He peeks over at you, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and crossing his arms over his chest, lifting a brow at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckles a bit nervously. He still gets a bit nervous when you stare at him like you’re falling in love all over again - which you are, even more than before.

Of course, Eddie’s had relationships - even situationships - and even if they didn’t last that long, he always felt confident in the relationship, never boyish and giggly to where he could swing his feet like a school girl.

But with you, he feels shy, excited, nervous, and loved.

You shrug, slipping your arms around his, resting your chin on his bicep. “I just think you’re so handsome.”

He flushes and suddenly feels hot in the cool air. “Even with this scuff.”

“Especially with the scuff,” You grin. “And I thought I wouldn’t like your haircut, but I do.”

“I’m glad,” He nods, leaning over and pressing one, two, three pecks against your forehead. “It was just getting in the way when I would roll the windows down to smoke,” His scruff tickles against your forehead. “Especially when I would forget or loose the rubber band.”

You nod a bit and lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to go get the mini cooler out of the car.”

“I can do that.”

“No, I got it. Stay here and make sure no one gets our spot.”

He smirks. “Yeah, because you’ll end up feeling bad for someone and move.”

You roll your eyes and pat his bottom before walking off. He smiles and turns back, watching as they Hawkins and the other team - Defenders - give high-fives before the game starts.

“So, Munson,” He feels someone brush up against his side, his nails dig into his skin that was covered by his black sweatshirt. “How’s the married life?”

“You mean the same married life I’ve been in for 5 years now?” Eddie rocks on his heels. He doesn’t know if that would help, but he’s hoping it does so he doesn’t cause a scene in front of all the kids and parents who already judge him enough even if he’s not that same, hyperactive person anymore.

“It’s wonderful. How about your third wife? Or… is it the fourth?” He wonders out loud. Jason chuckles, blue eyes turning to stare daggers into the side of his face. “Or do you already have the fourth one picked out?”

“You’re such a-”

“Hi, Mr. Carver,” You cut the conversation short. You didn’t like Jason at all, but it’s better to kill him with kindness than to egg him on with words. “Seems like James and Aj are getting the hang of soccer.”

He watches as you bend at the waist, Eddie moving slightly to cover where ever his eyes might land, pinky circling into the belt loop of your jeans.

Jason rolls his eyes at that, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Learned from the best,” He nods. “What about Chance? Since… Eddie’s gone most of the time.”

“Dustin, Lucas, or Steve comes and practices with him. Jonathan does sometimes as well, and Robin,” You shrug. “He has a bunch of people who help him.”

“I bet it gets lonely sometimes.” Eddie’s ears ring when he hears the words and the whistle blow.

“What?”

“You know… When Eddie’s gone. How many days is he gone?”

You lift a brow, eyes staying on Chance’s jersey. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You step closer when you feel Eddie’s finger tug on the belt loop of your jeans.

“Well… I could keep you company sometime, you know,” He tilts his head. “It’s not okay for Chance to have a father that disappears a couple of days and then pops back up for a day.” There’s a pause. You both were going to ignore him.

Jason is the type of guy who wouldn’t back out of an argument until there’s a physical altercation between him and whoever falls into his trap. Eddie knows this because it’s happened before.

Jason wouldn’t stop pestering him - and the next day after seeing his father on the news for a physical altercation, breaking-an-entering, DUI, and Drug Holding, it only made it worse.

“Looks like you might actually have something to look forward too - seeing your Daddy behind bars when you get locked up with him.”

He can’t remember when his fist went flying and when it broke Jason’s nose, but after that, Jason would say something’s and Eddie would retaliate with words.

Jason would back down because he remembered the pain that the rings had caused and the cracking noise he had heard.

But now, he didn’t seem to remember what that felt like - and maybe he needed to be reminded.

“Maybe that’s why he’s a bit slow.” Especially now when he said those words. Jason Carver officially sealed his fate.

“What did you just say?” Eddie turns to him.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Jason shrugs. But he did. “Just… you know, he doesn’t talk. He’s not that smart with his-”

“You don't want to finish that sentence, Carver,” Eddie grits out. There’s a hot flash that keeps going down his whole body, the feeling of breaking that nose again, ruining the nose job he had to have because of his rings. “You remember what happened before. I’d hate to ruin the nose job you had to have in 10th grade. Then you’d have to spend another thousand just to get it busted again.”

Jason’s brows shoot up, a small teasing smirk on his face. He notices some parents’ eyes looking at them. Eddie’s voice had raised a smidge and he didn’t even notice.

“Is that a threat, Munson?”

“Try promise, Carver,” His eyes narrow at him. “You peaked in high school and can’t let it go. You even work there.”

Jason’s jaw clenches at that. “I didn’t-”

“You did,” Eddie cuts him off. There’s a small smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips knowing he’s got under his skin now. “You just don’t want to admit it. And it’s honestly sad. So, what you’re going to do right now is turn around, walk away from my wife, and stop talking about my son. Because it won’t be pretty if you don’t.”

“Eddie.” Your hand grips his arm. He looks at you and shakes his head before looking at Jason.

Jason clicks his tongue, darting his eyes out at the field as he nods a bit. You look between the two. “Alright… I’ll let you win this one,” He hums, hands on his hips. “Because at least my kid isn’t a freak.”

Eddie flinches at the word, fist clenching at the usage and who it was shot at. He wouldn’t have minded if it was meant towards himself, but his kid? One who couldn’t even defend himself?

His hands land on his chest, pushing him away. Jason stumbles on his Nike’s. “Carver, I mean it. Walk away before you say something you’ll regret. I’m so close to beating you into the ground.”

Jason stares at him and he believes him. Eddie’s staring at him with eyes that were dark, his hands balled into fists at his side - so tight that his knuckles were white.

Jason’s eyes glances over at you. And just because he needs to get in the last words so his ego isn’t hurt and knocked down a couple of steps, “Call me if you ever get lonely, babygirl.” His lips pucker and smack together before he gives Eddie one last grin, turning around.

Eddie almost swings at the back of his head to knock him off guard, his arm raising. You grab his arm, pulling it down quickly. “Not worth it,” You say, hand resting between his shoulder blades. “He’s not worth going to jail, Eds.”

Eddie watches as he makes his way towards Julia, plopping down into his fold out chair. He grabs the can, taking a gulp and wiping at the corner of his mouth where some had slipped. His blue eyes turn and meet Eddie’s, a small smile that curls at his lips.

“Just one punch?”

“No,” You turn him towards you. “He’s just trying to get a raise out of you and it’s working - don’t let him win this time like he always does.”

Eddie glances around, eyes meeting with some of the parents that quickly look away. His eyes then connect with yours and suddenly he feels his inside soften and his face slowly release its tension, the lines disappearing from his face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

You shake your head, giving him a small smile. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

He opens his mouth but is cut off by the whistle, eyes cutting over to the field. He sees number 8 sitting on the ground, his heart dropping.

His mind was wondering else where and his son is hurt.

He’s walking out onto the field before his mind even registers what his feet are doing and kneeling down. Chance had tears rolling down his cheeks, his small hands covering his knee.

“Hey, Champ,” His heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes when they quickly dart up at him before looking back down at his hands. He flinches when he feels your hand on his back, rubbing up and down. “Can mommy and I take a look?” He whispers.

He feels a bit claustrophobic when he feels the two coaches looming over his shoulders along with the small kids staring at him.

Chance nods slightly, removing his hands from his knee. Eddie’s hand reaches out and holds his leg, looking at the scratches. “Looks like you just need a quick wipe and bandaid.”

Chance sniffs and slowly stands, bending his leg.

“You wanna wait til we get home? I accidentally forgot the first aid at home.” The little boy nods, sniffling again.

Eddie reaches up and wipes away his tears softly. “You’re so brave. I’m proud of you.”

This causes Chance to smile, cheeks lifting a bit. Eddie gives him a swift peck to the top of his head before standing. “Go get ‘em.” Chance nods quickly.

Eddie grabs your hand, walking off the field and standing on the sidelines again. You lean your head on his shoulder.

“Eds?” He hums a bit. “I love you.”

He smiles a bit, nodding. “I love you.”

⭒

Eddie plops down on the bed, rubbing at his face. Chance’s knee was taken care of, a fresh shower, some nuggets, then he was out like a light when his little head hit the pillow.

Eddie feels like he could pass out when his own head hits the pillow, but there’s a feeling that keeps tugging at his chest.

He doesn’t know if it’s anger, sadness, or confusion.

anger because he couldn’t put Jason Carver into place like he absolutely wanted to. Anger because he missed half of Chance’s game because of him.

Sadness because Chance has to deal with people already laughing at him - it’s much worse when a grown up does it.

Confusion because he doesn’t know what he did in wrong his life to deserve what people say about him and his family.

Eddie always felt like he was nice enough - not judging others and including them in a conversation when he felt as if they weren’t being heard or he noticed the look on their face when they felt left out of the conversation.

And there’s a constant nagging in his mind that he always hears in his subconscious.

You’re not cut out to be a father - you’re going to go downhill soon.

And the worse part about it, he actually believes he’s going to go down hill. His father once was a nice man, caring. Then Wayne said when his mom got sick, he turned bitter and mean.

And the worse part about that was she got sick when she was pregnant with Eddie. So that bitterness was because of Eddie.

Edward Munson - the person who caused people to feel bitter when he showed his face. The person who only seemed to give people bad luck when he showed up.

Sarah, his mother who was a soft person with kind words, should’ve saved herself. Not him. She should be here. Then maybe his dad would’ve been okay.

Everyone would’ve been okay.

“Babe?” He blinks, glancing at you. He didn’t realize that you had finished getting ready for bed and had snuggled under the covers. He hums slightly. You frown, lifting your hand and wiping at the tears that he didn’t realize had fallen.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on in your mind?” Your thumb traces over his cheekbone. You pay attention to the scar he has nearing his eye. He shakes his head a bit, lip quivering.

He’s afraid that if he talks, it will cause him to sob, then if he sobs, he’ll wake up Chance. He’s already had a rough day today and he needed his sleep.

You frown and move closer to him, pressing a kiss next to his eye, they flutter closer. “Whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t true,” You whisper. “I know you and I know that you’re very hard on yourself - and you shouldn’t be. You know why?”

He turns his head to stare at you, shaking his head a bit.

Your hand splays out against his cheek. “Because you, Eddie, are the absolute best person I know with the biggest heart. And I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and achieved.”

He smiles, although it’s a bit shaky. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shrug, nudging your nose against his softly. “Just being the absolute best version of you.”

🎸 eddie tags; @lavendermunson, @hazydespair, @whisperingwillowxox

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is always welcomed, encouraged, & deeply appreciated. 🧸

#cherry writes ✿ #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn x reader

[biibini]

Hii!! After mizu graduates college, what type of job do you think she'd have? Would it have to do with sports or maybe something way different? (I absolutely love your writing and headcanons !! 🩷🩷)

modern!mizu post-college life headcanons

tags: post-grad life, engineering mizu, stable work life, a woman in stem, moving in with reader, basketball with mizu, mizu join fencing club, peaceful post-grad life (the dream)

a/n: ngl the thought of post-college life is tripping me out,,, im a junior in college rn and the thought of it just kinda doesnt?? exist?? also ive heard too much info from my friends' rants ab their engineering degrees and switching majors from mechanic to electrical back to mechanical engineering,, theyre fucking nuts

modern!mizu would prob be in the engineering sector of jobs

wooo stem baby (i am a digital marketing major i should not be talking)

bc hello?? money???

also let’s use that mechanical engineering degree to good use

she didn’t leave home for nothing

with her technical skills from eiji

modern!mizu would probably be a CAD engineer

CAD aka computer aided design

technically speaking, it would allow her to work from home or hybrid

and she can easily transfer her mechanical and on-hand knowledge to a digital format

like she’s smart yall

she just got some troubles w procrastination

but dont we all?

(coping so hard)

this job would also allow her free time and flexible hours to do her job

and i feel like modern!mizu opts for a good work-life balance

if she wishes, she can take the day off snd just go out with u or go to the gym

the freedom of choice while staying comfortable at home?

sign her tf up

she can have her tea time, gym time, spending time w u time, and her self care time

the self care in question: enjoying the silence

and realistically, its a well paying job thatll keep her and u afloat while helping eiji financially if need be

modern!mizu hopes her work and smarts can help her provide for others and herself

its ab time she doesnt let herself depend on a man for money

yeah thats a fuck u to u, m*k*o

shes made the mistake once

shes not gonna make it again

just bc postgrad modern!mizu isnt in sports doesnt mean she’ll stop playing

she needs to get her exercise and movement some way some form

basketball with taigen

and always aim for the three-pointers

and is successful most of the time

and then proceed to aim for the half court shots

and fail most times

fencing with eiji whenever shes back home

she’ll def try to teach u

and its fun at first but

she wants to stretch her wings out

modern!mizu would prob join a fencing club

it would be a great for her to fully practice and spar

not just against her old man

or go soft w u

but also go against ppl her age

modern!mizu would move into a place w u

nothing grand but a small apartment where u could refresh and build the place to be ur own

ringo is a good friend

a true best friend she could trust

but it was time to move in w u

and not be wary of ringo hearing u when he comes home

modern!mizu would be more adventurous in hobbies

yeah she has basketball and fencing and her tea collection

but now she has a stable job

no need to worry about grades

and just to live life one step at a time

she would probably try out pottery with u

definitely practice her cooking with ringo's and ur help

all in all, a very patient life

(she deserves it)

#mizu bes #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #bes mizu #blue eye samurai #mizu x y/n #mizu headcanons #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #modern mizu #modern mizu headcanons #modern au #blue eye samurai modern au

[kaypeace21]

Alot of the plots were good - but some aspects just really made the season overall awful . How dare they do that to Max. I'm livid about that. You really had venca's curse represent su*cidal thoughts- which we see Max overcoming in part 1 . Then part 2: bam vecna k*lls max- the girl who str*ggled with ab*se, a horrible home life ,and throughout the season overcame her su*cidal thoughts but got an awful ending . And while dying she says over and over she doesn't want to d*e. It's cruel. Even if she does wake up from the coma - is she blind and or paralyzed and never able to skate again? Play videogames watch movies ?And for what- vecna is alive , and hawkins was still destroyed. Her sacrifice wasn't worth it. And Eddie's death was not only cruel but pointless too. He didn't even save anyone during the scene. And he literally mentioned how he did not want to become like his criminal dad . They kill him and the whole town thinks he's a worse criminal than his father. And he never graduated - it was "not his year". Aka part of his last words.The erica and lucas scenes of being attacked- honestly deserves it's own post. Also the romance is still low key one of the worst cringe parts of an otherwise great show.

I'm sorry m*leven is still so sus to me. Like besides all their relationship issues, it's weird s1-s4 parallels m*leven to family members. Like seriously side eyeing the Duffers just for those weird family parallels- if m*leven is romantic endgame. I mean ...nancy called herself "ruth" and el was in "Ruth, nevada" (and that's like 1 of 20 examples). Just to name one of many of those weird family parallels. Like why do that?? And yeah if it's an actual romantic declaration - you'd think they'd kiss like they did in the beginning of s4 . Not even getting into retcons like mike saying meeting Will at age 5 was "the best thing I've ever done". But now he says his "life started" at age 12 when he met el- cause "love at first sight" bs trope. Love at first sight isn't real. And mike literally the day they found her was suggesting ways to send her away so they could go back to looking for Will, and when he thought el lied ( about seeing Will alive) he slapped her hand and yelled "what is wrong with you?"2x then later said lucas was right to not trust her. Ummm... love at first sight? That?! Ok?And wow glad Will could hear mike's confession about how the 1st day he was reported missing- mike's " life began". Mike be like : "I knew Will for 7 years , before I met el . And all my friendships prior to meeting el- meant nothing to me- because my life only began when I fell in love with El instantly and rushed into a relationship after 1 week of knowing her (and when we finally Date- we just fight for 2 seasons straight). True love. "

Honestly they parallel robin/vickie/her bf to will/mike/El - which is also sus. Given how (supposedly straight) Vickie and her bf breakup- and Vickie seems into Robin at the end of s4.

But regardless I'm so sick of just getting "crumbs" whether byler is a queer bait or s5 makes byler canon. I'm just tired- especially after how the socials /cast and crew constantly pumped up byler during pride month- before part 2.

Not to mention the fact we have to just see Will lie to mike to help m*leven. Even though he hates lying to mike. Like no that was Will's painting -el thought it was for a crush of Will's (she didn't commission it for Mike at all)! He was just trying to be a good friend and brother by trying to fix m*leven (and lying to mike to fix m*leven's failing romantic relationship).like think about it- mike literally thinks that d&d painting /"heart" metaphor was El's creative idea and something el made as a gift for him . When it was all Will!!! That "heart" line Will says to mike is used again later by Will- to encourage mike to confess he loves El. Will literally uses his own romantic words for mike- to encourage mike to confess to el instead. Gross. If m*leven is endgame- could they do it in a less awful way to Will? Not to mention mike finally says he loves el-partially because he's moved by Will's painting (he thinks is from el). Which is also messy for m*leven endgame. All those words in the car to mike were Will's confession (he literally just replaced his pronouns for "El" and "she/her" ). Even jonathan saw it that way. Will to mike: " you're guiding- inspiring . That's what you do. you're the heart, without the heart (i'd) fall apart. These past few months (i've) been lost without you.(cough mike said the "lost " line to Will first) .When you're different from other people ... when you're different ... sometimes you feel like a mistake. But you make (me) feel like (I'm) not a mistake at all. And that gives (me ) courage to fight on. If (I) seemed like (I) was pushing you away. It's because (I'm)scared of losing you. "

And the fact we're just left with Will sulking in the corner - and being a trope of "sad gay character in love with his (supposedly straight) best friend". And have Will low key fix that the dysfunction het couple - who have trivial convoluted drama/dysfunction every season they date. But never actually resolve any of their fundamental issues - lying, spying, neglecting all their friends for eachother ,etc. Because you know the trope: gays always have to step aside and sacrifice the romantic love they have for a friend -so that same friend can instead live " happily ever after" (in a het relationship). Even if that het couple is dysfunctional and poorly written. I'm gay ... and just so tired of this type of stuff , repeated over and over and over again in media. Do writers not realize bad-rep is much worse than no-rep?Like if byler isn't canon these scenes right here are literally just rubbing salt in the wounds of Will and other gay/queer fans who empathize or relate to him.

It's like i've mentioned in the past a lot of straight writers LOVE the 'sad gay - trope' . Alot of those straight writers don't empathize with us as people, they infact "romanticize our pain" and find it "beautiful" . And just find our suffering "dramatic and angsty" decoration to their story- where they can also add bragging points of being "inclusive". They don't actually care about how problematic the queer rep is -and how it negatively affects us.

Even Will said he'd rather "pull the bandaid off" in regards to romance drama between him and mike. But duffers didn't do that- or give any closure for Will. Nah they forgot his bday and did this instead. Heck, no romantic closure for Will or even the whole st*ncy/j*ncy drama. Which is a whole other can of worms in itself (i'm saying this as someone who doesnt ship either st*ncy or j*ncy). Regardless of what could happen in s5. I'm just tired of how poorly some (frankly most) of the romance is handled in the series.

If m*leven is endgame they did it in the most reductive , stereotypical, predictable, and also hurtful way possible to lgbt fans. Without actually fixing m*leven's real issues to make us like them together as a couple. Heck (not only do they have problems that were never fixed ) : like lying /spying/ mike still hero worshiping her - which were never fixed ). They're now just a cliche ("love at first sight couple", who ever since they started dating have artifical convoluted drama every season ). Literally s3 and 4 are the same: m*leven neglect their friends for eachother, lie to eachother , fight with eachother, then say they're in love. There's no change , no progess they just repeat the same problematic pattern. Forget mike saying in part 1 this was a fight the pairing "couldn't get past" or mike nodding to Will saying maybe he's afraid to tell el the truth, cause she may not like it. Ummm - part 2 doesn't connect to that, why would El not like his confession? Not to mention mike only can say he loves her in s3 and 4 when her life is in danger (and in s4 when Will encourages him to keep talking)- not sus at all. The whole season Mike shares dialogue with brenner - even in the love confession (ick). And lol after his love confession- el won't talk to him. (purposeful hinting it won't work out ? or just horrible writing for an awful romantic pair who always have had poor communication?) Straight-mike narratively just makes mike a sh*t friend too- going from a great , considerate,and observant friend in s1 and 2. But , then the second he starts dating El in s3 :he neglects his friends for 2 straight seasons in favor of El (all while being a not good bf to her for 95% of their relationship). And also he literally said his life didn't begin until el (this is literally insulting to all his prior friendships which were established long before meeting el ). Straight-mike isn' t the "heart" of any party as Will claimed - not anymore (he straight up says his other relationships don't matter. Will, lucas, dustin- pfft his" life didn't even begin " until el ). Some of the worst days of Will's life - pfft mike, his bff, doesn't care about Will's tra*ma cause it gave him the chance to meet el. And he'll say it -right infront of Will. Iike mike could have said he's grateful to have met el in so many ways - but bringing up the day itself like that. Ugh. But in the end, both seasons his friends are the ones who have to help mike retain this supposed perfect romance. And let's get real they have no chemistry as a pairing- Mike just doesn't seem genuine in his love . And the confession incorporating mike's desire to be "needed" and having mike call her a "hero" and "superman'.yeah- hero worship from mike and dependence from el (winning romantic combo) . Also yeah , weird how El's "hero' is her dad and mike's is El. Given again all the family parallels. Heck terry(mom)/ mike saying "I love you" to El- is what gets her to defeat vecna.

And If byler is endgame in s5 - the duffers are overestimating how much bs they can put queer fans through- before they give us a happy ending . Like wow thanks for ending the season with mike & Will standing together, in between 2 other romantic pairings. After you made Will suffer through a bunch of problematic queer tropes (that you may subvert in s5- in like... 4 years). I'd say that framing at the end is a hint of byler- but they did the same framing in s3 only to do this in s4. So they may just leave those hints in the show to string and queer bait us longer. But honestly even if byler is canon in s5 (i actually think it has a decent chance of being endgame ): the Duffers sabotaged themselves. Becuse now bylers are less engaged in wanting to watch s5, and in s5 you'd piss off the m*levens . Cause mike would have lied to El and led her on (or just said it cause he didn't want her to d*e/ he meant he loved her in a non romantic way). But also when mike did his romance speech to El- he said the most messed up stuff right infront of Will ( aka the day Will was k*dnapped is when mike finally felt alive- cause he met El) . THAT'S SO MESSED UP. most bylers probably won't even bother to watch s5 - assuming the worst again too.

So my point is - regardless of whether mike is straight, gay or bi (they wrote themselves into a corner where mike looks bad either way). And his relationships with both of them are messy af.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #max mayfield #eddie munson

[rush-the-stars]

RUIN

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+ only.

pairing: suguru getou x afab!reader

summary: after your family has fallen out of grace in the sorcerer world and you lose everything, it is decided by the higher-ups that you'll marry someone worthy for you; suguru getou. a troublesome sorcerer with no prominent family lineage, sway, or power in your world. it is a punishment, a laughing stock, and a badge of disgrace.

| arranged marriage au. mostly smut. a little angst or comfort if you squint. |

word count: 5.7k....this is a drabble to me ://

tw: smut, loss of virginity, dub-conish, one slap from the reader to getou and he kinda likes it, strange and unhealthy dynamics, getou has a corruption kink, slight blood? overstimulation. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: first time posting writing on this blog!! this has been plaguing me!! this was supposed to be a little drabble!! and here i am!! anyways…this could be and i have thoughts on it being a whole fic. it could potentially take place somewhere before volume 0 and after he’s graduated from jujutsu tech. maybe. i didn’t think hard enough ab it so you shouldn’t either. is this out of character? likely!! enjoy!! let me know what you think!!

The night of your wedding to Suguru Getou, you are filled with ire and contempt.

The crescent moon is a sickle arch in the sky to look down on you, the curve of it as sharp as a mean smile, as a hooked knife. You glare hard at it through the window, hold tight to the silk robe you had been ushered into after the ceremony. All pearly on your skin and loose, shiny, smooth to the touch. Wrapped like a present for you new husband.

You grit your teeth.

("So proud for such a disgraced girl," Suguru tsks, your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up into the darkness of his eyes. You look up your nose at him defiantly. His thumb moves to your bottom lip, swipes there boldly, in a way that makes heat race over your face. It flusters you terribly. It makes you furious. It makes you shake.

You jerk your head from his grasp and he allows his hand to fall away, flutter down by his side.

"And so stubborn."

You sneer at him, gripping your skirts to hide your tremble, "what were you expecting? For me to simper and posture for you?"

His eyes dance bemusedly over you, the corner of his lips quirking up in the most horrible way. You have half a mind to strike him with nails and palm and bitterness, swipe the look right off his face.

"I'd hoped for someone a little sweeter, I suppose." He tells you and for some reason, this stings worse than it should, makes your anger grow teeth and claws inside of you.

"A good wife." You spit.

"Yes," he admits, "something that is finally mine. Only mine."

Later, he will tell you he always wanted something Satoru Gojo couldn't have but wanted. He wanted something everyone wanted. Instead, he got you. Instead, you got him.

"I will never be yours." You hiss through your teeth like a little asp. A warning sound, the way a dog growls before it bites.

"You'll be married to me whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not." He says coolly, gazing down at you in a way that you can't place, in a way that makes you shiver.

"I may marry you, but I will never be yours–"

And when you catch the gleam in his eyes now, plum dark and glimmering, you know he took it less as a warning, and more of a challenge.)

You steel your courage. You breathe through your nose.

You untie your robe and let it slip from your shoulders.

It pools on the floor in a decadent swath of fabric. It looks like a swan, like a dead dove at your feet.

When you turn to look at Suguru over your shoulder, you are at least pleased to see that he is mildly surprised, brows arched upwards slightly, mouth parted.

He recovers quickly, "my, isn't this a surprise–"

"Don't." You snap. Your bottom lip trembles and you sink your teeth down into it to stop it. When you don't fear what your voice will sound like, you say defiantly;

"Do what you want. I'm not scared of you."

And you jerk your chin up again, too proud, too stubborn. Even when you are bare, even when your defenses have been stripped from you, even when his eyes are lightless, bottomless like the sea, infinite like the night sky as he gazes at you.

He approaches slowly, almost lazily, a predator that lopes closer to his prey. The breeze from the window makes you shiver.

"Look whose being brave," he coos, reaching out with his knuckles to touch your cheek, a brush of his skin. It's the first touch he gives you of the night.

He savors it. You try to hold still.

"Are you sure?" He asks and there is something unreadable in his face now, something monstrous at the edges, the flicker of it, of that hunger–a maw, opening wide in front of you to swallow you down like his curses, "I was going to let you have tonight."

"How merciful," you say, all heat and viciousness, all teeth. You jut your chin up, glare up into his face and say, "it doesn't matter. Like I told you; I will never be yours in any meaningful way."

The touch at your cheek becomes bigger, a palm that slides to the nape of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair. He holds you in a way that makes you feel the control, so you can feel the strength of his broad hand. The power in it. Horribly, it makes you feel small, too, to be cupped in his hands like that, to be guided.

His smile is lazy, almost aloof, like the sickle curved moon, but the burning of his eyes tells you differently. All violet heat, like the night sky swathed around that moon.

Tenderly, he promises, "I will strip you of your pride tonight. It will be the first thing you have to put down if you want anything good from me."

"I'll make you bleed," you promise back.

He laughs, low and soft and heated, before he says, "I'll tame you someday."

And he sways forward, lets his nose brush along yours, tilts your head up at the neck so your lips are offered to him like sacrifice, like a lamb.

"I'll kill you someday." You vow, just a whisper that brushes against his lips.

You can feel his smile when he kisses you, deep and slow and horribly burning. Leisurely, he forces you open, rolls his tongue into your mouth, forces you still, forces you to like it.

You feel your hands come up to tighten in his clothes, ruining them. You feel yourself go slack in his hold. You feel yourself warm to his touch, to his mouth, to his tongue.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if he's trying to devour you, too, if he also thinks of you as his curse.

He bands an arm around your waist, forces you to press your bare body to his clothed one, fits his big hand along the curved cage of your ribs. And you feel–

You twist in his arms when you feel how hard he is, when it makes your stomach flip and then frightens you, when it makes heat swim up your chest and neck.

He can feel your shyness, moves his arm down to the dip of your waist to force your squirming still. He makes you feel him.

You part from his kiss, panting a little, pushing against him fitfully. He tightens like a snake around you, until you go still for him again.

"Undress me," he murmurs.

You swallow hard.

But with shaking fingers, you move to begin stripping him of his layers. Tanned, bare skin is revealed to you; silvery scars race and arc over his chest, along his shoulders and biceps. His stomach is toned, dark hair running down, further into–

You look away stubbornly when you get to his lower half. Your hands work blindly, until he says, "ah, ah, ah–" and he grabs your chin, makes you look at his face, makes you look down at your little hands near his stomach, near his hips– "Don't look away."

You swallow hard. You glare at your hands, heat rising swift and harsh to your chest, up your neck, to your cheeks. His clothes come away beneath your hands, leaving him bare, too.

You fight the urge to look away again.

"Touch me," he murmurs, watching your face, and you don't–you don't know why you listen. But as if possessed, you obey him.

He's hot to the touch, heavy in your hand, and you realize you can hardly breathe.

His intake of breath is sharp, coupled with your forced little exhale. You glare up into his face, jaw set tight with ire, face on fire. Embarrassed. Angry.

"Oh, if looks could kill." He hums, pressing his hips up into your hand. Uncertain but trying, you stroke slowly, carefully, get used to the feeling in your hand. "Such contempt on your face right now, wife."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," you try to snap, but your voice has gone thinner. You've lost some of your bite.

He laughs when he kisses you, meaner this time, teeth in your tender lip, his brutality like a slow ambling leopard. It's still leisurely, intimate in a way that is frightening, in a way that makes you feel like he's got you between his jaws.

He starts walking you back to the bed, crowding you, guiding you. And not for the first time, but certainly the most concerning time, do you realize how big and broad he is. Blindly, you let him urge you back. You let him lay down first, you let him take your hand, you let him–

"You want me–" on top? Your voice has a tremble in it.

"Scared?" He asks, tugging your hand, tugging you onto the bed. Over him. Holding your hand in his, laced fingers, palm to open palm.

"No, I just thought you'd want to–" You don't finish the sentence as you ease into straddling his waist, keeping up on your knees, away from him.

"Want to what? Say it."

You can feel your embarrassment come back up to strangle you.

"In what ways did you think I'd want you? Underneath me? Belly up and vulnerable? On your stomach with your back arched? On your side?" He asks and his voice is low, soft to your ears, but dark. One large hand of his grips your waist, fits itself around the curve, and forces you forward. You stumble a little, catch yourself on his chest.

"How did you think of this night? What way did you hope for?"

"None of them." You snap. "I don't want you."

"Liar." He says back, and he moves so his palm is on your lower abdomen, thumb moving dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, "if I touch you here, what will I find?"

You jerk away from his touch as if burned.

He readjusts his hold on your waist to force you still again as if dealing with an unruly child. This time, when his thumb swipes between your legs, it is through silken folds, slippery and gentle.

You strangle the moan that dares to bubble up, stifle it with an even smaller noise. He is so embarrassingly slow and careful with you, almost loving with the way he strokes, that you want to hide. You want to cling to him. You want to kill him.

"Ah, see? That's what I thought–" Suguru's thumb dips barley inside, and even that, just one finger, is bigger than what you're used to. His whole hand spans wide across your body. "–so wet for me."

You look away, attempting to bare it, teeth firmly stuck in your bottom lip. He never breaches you. Just strokes, slow and soft, painfully good and sweet, enough to make your hips cant a little. He doesn't say a word now, just listens to you breathe, to the small, slick sound between your legs.

It's so–

"I won't prep you more than that." He finally says and you feel your heart rabbit hard in the pit of your chest, like it might take off and run away from you. You look at his face. He must see your fear. "Unless you'd beg for my fingers inside you. Unless you'll beg me to be kind."

As if to emphasize, his thumb pauses, just outside, barely inside.

You can't bring yourself to ask for it. You won't beg. Even if you're shaking in his hold, even if you want to drop your hips a little, squirm until his thumb slips inside.

"Do what you want." You say again, stubborn and furious.

Suguru sighs lightly the way adults do with children. Have it your way, he seems to say, before he takes his hand away entirely. You watch as he fists himself, as he strokes himself easily. And then he's there, at the crux of your legs, and you panic a little because he's big and you remember the weight in your hand and–

"Wait–"

He forces you down onto him with one large hand gripping your waist. Your nails sink into his shoulders, body bowing forward as pain spasms through you, in you. You hiccup a breath, strangled, tears pricking your eyes sharply.

His mouth falls open, brows drawing together in mock sympathy for you. "Oh, you should've swallowed your pride, wife."

You whimper. He hisses.

"Maybe there is something you're useful for," he breathes, fingers flexing in your waist, moving to your back and then lower to grab and ease you up, ease you back down. You can feel him now, through the pain, deep and heavy inside of you. It's so raw, so strange and vulnerable, that you can't help the sudden swell of emotions.

Searing anger. Shameful arousal. Lingering fear. They all blend and blur.

He curses softly against your temple, "–knew, if nothing else, that you'd be good for this–"

Bastard.

You strike him with an open palm.

It cracks against his cheek, whips his face to the side. His cheek blossoms all hot and pink with it instantly. Satisfaction sinks into you. You feel him twitch inside you, feel your stomach flip with the look on his face.

He laughs, seizes you in a kiss, forces you down deeper onto him, "–knew you'd be perfect. Knew for how wretched you were that you'd be perfect for me." He says against your open mouth.

He lifts you, drops you onto him even slower, not to mitigate the pain by suspend it. You can tell he's being cruel, grinding you down onto him, trying to etch the feeling of him like this inside you forever.

You can't even speak and you force any noise that might come out of you down, down into the depths of you. You can feel your walls cling to him, latched tight, fluttering desperately. You can feel the way he burrows himself so deep inside you that you might be sick with him. You try so hard to breathe, to bear it, to take it. But it's too much–it's too much–

A small sob finally bursts out of you, shameful and tender.

"Wrap your arms around me." He commands, soft, almost a coo.

You don't know what to do but obey, wrap your arms tight around his neck, chest to chest, press yourself as close and desperately to him as you can. You tuck your heated, angry face into the crook of his neck, tears finally rushing hot and quick down your cheeks.

"I hate you," you cry into his skin, mouthing there, teething there. He controls you as you go limp in his arms, lifting and dropping your hips onto him like you weigh nothing. "I hate you."

"I know," he hushes, consoling you, one hand soothing over your back, "I know."

He tries to pull away fractionally, just to look at you, but you whine and cling harder, nails digging into the skin of his back.

"Look at me, darling," he says again and tentatively, you peak at him through your angry tears, brows furrowed, glare firmly marring your sweet face. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, burning into you, and says;

"I will be the only person to hurt you like this. I will be the only person to soothe you like this."

It's a command. It's a vow.

You let your hand slip into his long, dark hair, tangle in it until it's a small fist. You pull to tilt his head back up to you, move your hips on your own finally, rock them tentatively, a small, aborted motion. And then you say, through your tears, through your anger and shame;

"And I'll be the only one you ever want like this. The only one you can't have fully."

"I have you now." He rasps, a little enamored, a little slack jawed.

You shake your head fractionally, lip curled, maybe in pain, in anger, "I don't love you. I won't ever love you."

You can tell this does something to him, hurts him in a way that he isn't prepared for. You aren't prepared for it, either, the look on his face. The way he kisses you after that, like he's trying to win you over, like he's trying to soothe you, just like he said he would.

"I don't need your love," he murmurs, spit-slick against your lips. Your hips stutter a little.

"Liar," you echo him and it's your turn to smile a little against his lips, the curve of it mean, your eyes still glossy with tears as the next roll of your hips becomes more sure.

You finally let out a little moan and he hums, "there, that's it, starting to feel better?"

And then, "maybe. Maybe this is all you're good for–"

A moan punches out of him.

He thrusts up into you this time, hard, a little spiteful. You yelp, tears stinging, and he kisses you as if to half-heartedly apologize.

You curl around him again, though, and he doesn't even need to guide your hips anymore. It still aches, in the core of you, throbs in pain, but it's beginning to feel syrupy and warm, the feeling of fullness becoming familiar. Almost welcome. A burning type of pleasure that you start to ease into.

You bite into his throat. You tell him how terrible he is, you dig your nails into his back, you warn him not to get used to this.

He kisses you hard and slow. He tries to own you. He let's you ride him, take from him, give to him. He draws his tongue over his teeth marks in your skin.

He builds you up, finally touches your breasts, your body, his hands feverish and scorching over you. He finally gives in to what he wants, gives in to your pleasure, lets you roll your hips in a way that has you crying out–in pain, in pleasure, in some horrible combination of both.

You can feel it all build in you, feel it all balloon beneath your skin, hot and too big for your own body. Too much. You need more, need just a little more–

You get just shy of begging, but don't, bite your tongue until it bleeds, let him lick into your mouth and taste it.

"So stubborn," he grunts against your throat, "I know you like this. I know what you want from me." And then, "is it everything you thought of? Or should I fuck you on your back? Press you down into the bed and–"

"You're vile," you moan brokenly, half cry, "you wish."

And when he forces you down into his lap, digs his face into the crook of your neck, into your hair, and comes deep inside you, you think it might be over. He groans into your skin, grips you so tight you're certain you'll bruise.

Whatever pleasure that had been growing inside of you comes to a frustrating halt. Your hips twitch, unsatisfied, seeking.

You can't decide if you're disappointed or relieved. You hold him against your chest, hands in his hair, body shivering. He holds you back, let's you squirm a little, let's you get used to the feeling of him filling you like this.

You try to move first but he tightens his hold on you and once more you are reminded of a snake constricting it's prey into stillness. You go limp again and that seems to appease him. He lays you back, into the bed. Into your wedding bed.

He pulls out of you slowly, gently this time, and it still makes you whine in pain. It still makes you wince. You're going to be so sore tomorrow–

At this point, you expect him to roll over and go to sleep.

But he kisses you tenderly, open-mouthed, tongue soft and pressing into yours. Seeking. Heat rekindles. He teases, drowns you in his lazy sort of affection; like he has forever to please you, like it is all he was meant for.

And then his lips cascade downwards, with his tongue trailing over your chest, and right over the bud of your breast to catch it in his mouth. So warm and soft, enough to make you arch a little, enough to make your hands come back up into his hair. You bite your lip but your hips twitch.

Dissatisfaction builds in you, squirms under your skin. It makes you become fitful in his arms, beneath the attentive warmth of his mouth. He moans a little around your breast when you pull on his hair. He rolls his eyes up to you lazily, half-lidded, almost asleep.

He is strangely content now, for all his unnerving, crackling energy. That restlessness that seems to live deep inside of him is soothed for the moment, with you beneath him, in his mouth.

His lips travel lower, over your stomach. You know it's a mess, can't imagine why he would ever–

"Suguru," you say and the fear in your voice is palpable. He pays you no mind, "Suguru–"

When his mouth opens against your core, warm and soft and wet, you aren't expecting it. You jolt a little but he's got his arms around your thighs, forces you open.

"Hold still for me, darling." And the lull of his voice does something to you, coaxes you to relax in his hold again. He hums lightly, "that's my girl. Going to let me enjoy you now? Suddenly quiet, aren't we?" he muses.

You glare down at him but it's lost a lot of the heat of your anger. Still, you say stubbornly, "just do what you want."

His lips quirk up and you feel it, feel it against your core when he drops a brief open-mouthed kiss there. A noise works out of you, small and desperate and unable to be kept down.

He tongues at you slowly, through soft ribbons of flesh, gentle and sweet. Adoring. He looks up at you with plum dark eyes, lashes fanning over his cheek.

He does what he should've done first.

You realize dully, faintly, through the haze of your mind, that he's done it purposefully. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to soothe you after.

And you are sore, aching horribly, but his mouth is so warm and soft, so eager and strange as it moves against you.

“I’ll make you feel better now,” he murmurs, “I’ll chase away the pain.”

He licks long and flat stripes up and down, making a mess, making you burn. Making you love it. Making you hate it.

You twist a little in his hold, start to get desperate for it. You fist your hands in his long hair, twine them around your fingers to pull, to feel the rumbling purr of his moan against you.

You try to resist maybe, at first, the peak he's bringing you to. The pleasure he's giving you. But then it sneaks up on you and suddenly your breathing hitches all tight.

And he stops.

You look down at him. His mouth is on your inner thigh. His eyes flick up to you. He watches you keenly, like a cat, and waits.

He bites into the flesh of your thigh, sucks a love bite into it. Leaves the marks of his teeth in your skin. And when your breathing has slowed enough, he moves his mouth back to your center.

His tongue lolls out again, sliver of pink muscle darting out to taste you again. You whimper. You throw your head back. You give in to this one easily. He works harder, gets a little rougher, tongue moving quicker.

But then he's gone again, when you're about to fall over that edge. This time, you sit up onto your elbows to look at him. He quirks a brow at you, mouth all over your thigh again.

"Something wrong?" He asks, dropping a messy kiss to your core.

"Suguru, stop it–"

"Stop what? You said do as I please and I am."

He opens his mouth against your center again, scorching hot, dirty in a way that makes you keen sharp and high. You tilt your hips up into his mouth this time, offer yourself willingly, open yourself to him. His tongue delves inside, squirms and pushes and slides through you. It's almost gross– too vulnerable, too close, and makes your eyes slam shut.

He muffles a soft laugh, you can feel it against you, can feel the flush of your embarrassment and annoyance.

He pulls away. This time your glare is pointed. Sharper.

"Say what you want." Suguru says. "And I'll give it to you."

You stare hard at him, chest heaving, face overcome with heat. Your pleasure ebbs away, held back.

He does it again. Mouth on you. Thumb holding you open, dipping inside barely again. He pulls away when you move at all, when you allow yourself to give in.

You come down again. You get built up again. Until he finally presses his thumb inside, makes his tongue roll slow and tender against you.

His name comes out, desperate, almost pleading–

He stops.

And this time, frustrated tears rush back to your eyes.

"Stop it," you try to snap, but its wet and soft sounding, a little cry.

"Poor thing," he coos, "but you know what you have to do."

"I hate you."

He smiles like the cat that has got the canary between his sharp, sharp teeth.

"C'mon, it's not so bad–"

You grit your teeth. You try to breathe. He tongues at you again, slow and soft and teasing.

"Just let it go, let go of your pride and ask me. I'll indulge you. I'll give it to you." He opens his mouth against you again, adds pressure, adds suction, adds a finger inside you again. You twist, desperate, so close it hurts.

He draws off you again.

"Let go of your pride and I'll give you everything." He murmurs.

And again he builds you up and again you refuse to give in. Again and again until you're outright crying, until you're heaving with it, until you're just a live-wire, an aching, open wound.

And again he does it, adjusts so he sits up with you, so you're near bent in half, so he can look down at you now. It's so horrible, it's so embarrassing–

One more. He knows it, can feel it, hear it in your little hitching sobs.

And then finally, finally;

"Suguru, please–please, I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry–"

It hits you so hard that all you can manage is a strangled gasp. Your peak is a head rush, a full body surge, a wave that goes still for a moment before crashing hard and fast. You cry openly, twist in his hold, let him lay you back down, let him guide you through it. You pulse and burst on his tongue, throbbing, aching in a way you've never felt before.

"Good girl," he rumbles, and it's so–it's so proud. It's so condescending. You want to be mad. You want to push him away and scratch and kick and bite, but when he holds you, you just cry. And cry. And he kisses you hard on the mouth again so you can taste yourself. He says it again while you're still mindless, "good girl. That's it–that's my girl. My good little wife."

"You're the worst," you get out, even as you let him bundle you into his arms.

"I know–I know." He hushes. "And I'll be worse still."

When you feel his fingers prod gently at your entrance, you start fighting him a little, "no–no, I'm done–I can't–"

"Yes, you can." He hums, "because I said so. Because I want you to."

His fingers slip in gently, so big, bigger than your own. Two feel like such a stretch and all he does is move them slow and crooked. You whimper, tears leaking out, cascading down your cheeks.

And he makes you come like that, too. And again on his mouth. The next all he does is fit his thigh between your legs, while he kisses you slow. Humiliates you. Strips you of all your dignity. For the last time, he lines himself back up, let's his length slip through your folds a few times. He watches himself against you, admires how deep he must reach in you, how wet you are for him.

You're so swollen. So sore and tired. You barely realize it at first. And then you feel the head of him catch and you stir, "wait–no, no–please, I can't–!" You hiccup.

He fills you in one smooth thrust. Makes you claw down into his back until you're sure you've drawn blood. You wail a little, embarrassingly, into his throat. You claw and fuss and fight him this time, renewed a little, feeling him root down inside of you.

He kisses at your tears, tastes them, "Look at you–" he husks, "crying like this for me. Look at the mess I've made out of you. Not so proud now, are we?"

He kisses your palm that tries to push his face away.

He bites your tender lip. He takes your hands in his own and laces his finger between yours to force them down onto the bed. He quells your fight. He ruts into you deep and hard.

He does that until you come again, so brutally around him that all you can do is tremble in his arms, that you feel as if you've fractured apart into little pieces. Your walls get so tight that he can't help himself, starts to babble a little, thrusts growing reckless;

"I'm never letting you go–you'll be mine if it's the last thing I do. I'm going to covet you. I'm going to ruin you, I'm going to fucking ruin you–"

You bite his shoulder so viciously that you start to taste blood.

He grabs your jaw, he squeezes until it hurts. He squeezes until you release.

"I'm the only thing you have now." He growls, thrusts turning mean, ruthless. Desperate. "I'll be the only thing you'll ever have now."

You glare through your tears, and get out his name, and then you croak, "I've already ruined you–look at you. Look at you."

A few more artless thrusts and he comes with a broken groan, raw, against your jumping pulse. You feel him fill you again, deep, and warm. Strangely soothing after everything, after all of it. You go slack for a moment as you heave, as you feel him breathe against your chest.

And this time he is done. This time, he holds you, even when you try to weakly push him away.

"Stop fussing," he scolds softly, stroking slow over your sides, petting you, soothing you. You feel so boneless that you listen, settle down into the bed, into his touch, into his weight still atop you.

He's weakened you to him, stripped you down so you're limp and exhausted, and in need of care. His care.

He bathes you. And before that, he makes you wrap your arms around him to carry you to the bathroom. He doesn't carry you like a bride but with your arms around his neck, with your legs around his waist, wants you to nose into his throat, to be pressed fully to him. He doesn't allow you something so dignified as being carried like a bride.

And he doesn't allow you privacy, either, not to use the bathroom or to clean yourself. He does it for you. You think about asking him to leave you. You think about begging him. You swallow it down and can't decide if it's pride now that holds your tongue or something else. If it's worse to beg now or if it's worse to be cared for like this. You can't decide if it's more embarrassing to ask him to leave or to let him stay and see it all.

He sits in the tub with you and wipes your tears. He runs the warm water over your shoulders, along your arms. He cleans inside you, even when you make a noise of protest.

He shushes you gently as his fingers delve into you again, "just settle. Relax." And when you go limp against him, head on his shoulder, he praises you in low, soft tones, "that's it–there. That's all, darling."

He is surprisingly gentle. Surprisingly subdued and at peace while he cares for you.

He dries you. He carries you back to bed. You're sore and tender, can feel all his marks and bites and the ache between your legs now very acutely.

He lays atop you, head on your chest, limbs thrown around you. You allow your hands to delve into his hair and you realize much of what he said is true;

He is all you have now. And the sorcery world is to blame, the ones who outcasted you and your family. Him.

Shyly, you draw a finger over the line of his brow, the slope of his nose. He is all you have. He is who you're stuck with, for better or for worse. You let it settle in you, deep and unmoving.

He is all you have.

You hold him tighter, know that maybe he could ruin you or that you could ruin him. You hold him tighter and know that he'll be yours. Or maybe you'll be his.

But more importantly, you know that he could ruin for you. He could ruin all of them.

As if possessed, you whisper it.

You whisper what you want him to become in his ear, as you trace over the scratches and the bites and the wounds. As you hold him to you. As you willingly wrap you arms around him. You tell him you want him to become a monster. You want him to avenge you, avenge himself, to tear it all down. You give him all your ire and contempt. You give him everything ugly while he sleeps and dreams and sighs into your neck.

You poison him. You curse him.

You will ruin them all. You will be something powerful. Something horrible. You will change everything. You will ruin everything.

All I have to do is ask, you think. All I have to do is ask.

And he will give you everything.

#getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru getou x you #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #cielo writes

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! ORIGINAL CHARACTER PROFILE : MORI BAN

PROFILE STATUS: UNEDITED

Elements of this Character Profile is STC.

Keep in mind that all my OCs in this blog are from a shared universe and that the story/character elements might change as I work on the series. Some works here are also non-canonical to the character, and as such may contain a different plot/setting/character backstory entirely.

GENERIC INFORMATION:

NAME: MORI BAN

ALIASES: BOSS, BOSS MAN, THE DELINQUENT, WIFEY, STALKER, ALBINO LION, FAILURE, MOP HAIR, MULLET MAN

GENDER: MALE

SEX: TRANS-MASC

PRONOUNS: HE/HIM

BLOOD TYPE: AB

AGE: 21 (As of 1896)

BIRTHDAY: AUGUST 28 1875

HEIGHT: 6’8” (203cm)

WEIGHT: 250 lb (113kg)

HAIR COLOR: PALE TURQUOISE

EYE COLOR: MAGENTA

SKIN COLOR: IVORY

RELATIVES : The Ban Clan

— Ban Gabrielle (Descendant)

— 11 Siblings

— Parents

OCCUPATION: MILITARY STUDENT (formerly), REGULAR STUDENT.

Featured In:

Tumblr Works / As a Yandere Character :

— Hairpin | Popped

— 1K Celebration | Underwear

(note that the earlier stories are separate from his actual lore and are the connected at all to the comics he’ll feature in nor his backstory in the overview)

Comic Series :

— Make Money Not Love!

— Midnight Darling

OVERVIEW

Main Storyline ( In the Comics ) :

Mori comes from an extremely poor background. He’s the 8th out of all 12 siblings, and was only ever given attention to due to his hair and eye color presumably given to him by Celestial Tower [more on that in future, will link a separate post explaining the Tower].

As such he was forced into school despite wanting to help out by working instead. He’s faced with great pressure to graduate and eventually join the new Reconnaissance of the Otherworld • Special Unit ( RO•SU ロ•ス ). However, his mana was found out to be corrupted and he’s quickly dispatched (killed) on site.

He is reborn many centuries earlier as a delinquent, back before the Celestial Tower’s appearance. His arc on the comic “Make Money Not Love” is about his struggles with finances and the expectations of an Asian society that places value on monetary success.

Mori is abnormally tall. He used to be AMAB in his original timeline and his height (along with his hair and eye color) carried over despite the new biological sex. His height is presumed to also have come from the Celestial Tower since such an incredible height is rare not just from his family but the country he lived in.

Due to the value put on his looks (i.e. hair and eye-color) he abhors people touching him. Afraid that even the slightest change, or damage would affect his value as a person. Even in fights he makes sure that neither gets in harms way.

As a Yandere (for x you/reader people):

Now as a Yandere, Mori is extremely materialistic. Whether consciously or unconsciously, he likes when he’s given objects of value. He’s also extremely masochistic, as he likes to get into fights or annoy people for the sake of attention.

Mori has extremely low self esteem. The slightest bit of kindness will have him falling, but that feeling is usually fleeting unless the other person maintains their affection towards him.

If you’re to be his darling, you’d need to be extremely patient or at least be resistant to teasing. He can’t help it, he does it out of love, you see?

His ideal darling would be the type to be rude when it comes to words but soft when it comes to actions. A tsundere one might say. He’s also into the cool, collected types (but it would be even better if they insulted or beat him up once in a while)

His worse match would be a shy, demure, compliant darling. He enjoys challenges, thrills. His previous life basically wired him to enjoy hardships. If the Darling gave into him easily he’d find them boring.

Is probably the only yandere I’ll ever write that’s okay with being cucked. Might even like it a little too much.

Mussy.

Sub leaning switch.

[to be added upon]

GALLERY:

[to be added upon]

©️ hana.no.seiiki | yun. please do not redistribute, repost, translate this written / painted work without credit or permission.

#hns.txt💬 #hns.ocprofile🪪 #hns.moriban #make money not love #midnight darling #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere oc #original character #yandere original character #oc x reader #oc profile #original character profile #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc imagine #yandere original character x reader #yan oc #yandere harem #yandere harem x reader #sub yandere #oc #oc art #original character art #illust #oc illust #artists on tumblr

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

hi! what do you think are the best/most tolerable episodes in season 4 of community? it’s widely regarded as the worst season and I never know which episodes to watch each time I go through a community rewatch binge lol. so, I figured I would consult the encyclopedia! (this is my first time using the ask feature so I apologize if I am not using it correctly)

heyo! this is a great question. I actually have an abbreviated season 4 watchlist that cuts out the worst episodes (in my opinion), while staying comprehensible and making sure you're still able to follow the season's overarching plots:

4x01: history 101

4x03: conventions of space and time*

4x05: cooperative escapism in familial relations*

4x06: advanced documentary filmmaking

4x08: herstory of dance

4x11: basic human anatomy*

4x12: heroic origins*

4x13: advanced introduction to finality

the episodes with asterisks* are the ones I actually really enjoy watching. the others on the list are pretty mid, but are, in my opinion, important enough to the overarching plot and character development to be worth watching. when I'm showing other people season 4 for the first time, I adhere to this watchlist lol.

I’m going to do some (hopefully quick) explanations of how I came up with this list, but you don't have to read it if you don't want to lol:

✅ history 101: it's the first episode of the season, so it really does set the tone and establish some important details (jeff wants to graduate early, troy and britta are dating, this is their last year at greendale, etc.) as with most of season 4, the weirdness seems really contrived and unnatural, but it does have its moments of being genuinely funny. it's also a pretty abed-centric episode, which is always a bonus lol

❌ paranormal parentage: I don’t hate this episode, but it's just kind of boring and doesn't really add anything to the season. I love megan ganz but... yeah. a lot of the jokes seem forced, and there's way too much pierce for my liking. there are a couple good one liners ("you should probably tell your boyfriend's boyfriend" "I remember when this show was about community college") and it does help set up jeff finally contacting his dad, but imo it doesn't quite make the episode worth watching

✅ conventions of space and time: I’ve heard that some people hate this episode? couldn't be me. way too much trobed for me to hate it lmao. there is a lot of jeffannie in it too, but that resolves with the conclusion that annie is just a romantic who loves to fantasize, and doesn't actually have real feelings for jeff. it actually fuels my lesbiannie agenda tbh, because she is evidently just in love with the idea of a man but doesn't actually put that into practice. but that's another post lmao. we have some great one-liners, we have britta helping troy through his jealousy, we have "troy will find me :)" we have some more inspector spacetime lore, etc etc. I love this episode and rewatch it frequently.

❌ alternative history of the german invasion: for me, this episode has almost zero redeeming qualities. the jokes are lame, I hate professor cornwallis, there is so much discontinuity, it has zero importance in the bigger picture of the season and the show, it's out of character, etc. the one thing I like is the end tag.

✅ cooperative escapism in familial relations: this is a big one for me. I never see people talking about it, but to me this episode is one of season 4's saviors. we have HUGE jeff development, jeffbritta moments, some much needed shirley screentime and development, some great jokes ("-to eat garbage dip WHY DID I HAVE TO GO THIRD), classic trobedison shenanigans, and the shawshank redemption homage is very funny to me. plus! adam devine cameo! I like this episode more every time I watch it. unsung hero fr.

✅ advanced documentary filmmaking: okay so I won’t lie, I fucking HATE the changnesia arc. I think it is so incredibly stupid and uncreative. there are a million different and better ways they could have brought him back. but, this episode is just too important in the season's development to skip. and, honestly, if I ignore the whole premise, there are a lot of funny bits and jokes in this one. troy constantly smiling at the camera (read: smiling at abed), troy and annie being the silliest ever, jeff's trust issues, and ken jeong is truly very funny, I just hate this arc so much. but ultimately it's too important to cut. imo.

❌ economics of marine biology: I basically feel the same about this one as I do about alternative history of the german invasion. it's boring, the premise is stupid, it's out of character, it's unfunny, the guest character is lame, and it's pointless to the overall plot. abed and the delta cubes is a little bit funny? and I guess you could argue that the jeff and pierce development is important? but I’d refute that very quickly. it's pierce, who cares. not. worth. it.

✅ herstory of dance: this episode is honestly the upper end of mid, but it has enough good jokes and development to make it worth it. it is also Very abed-centric, which we've established is always a plus imo, and his whole bit with going on two dates at once is very in character. he also meets rachel, who comes back in season 5, so that's important. it also has some great jeff & britta development!!! which is sort of few and far between in the later seasons!!! yippee!!!

❌ intro to felt surrogacy: tied for my least favorite community episode of all time. it's clear they tried to do something similar to what they did with abed's uncontrollable christmas, but it is so incredibly contrived that it is physically painful to watch. I hate the puppets. the hot air balloon story is so stupid and out of character. the songs are bad. how dare they sully the legacy of my third favorite episode (lmao). the only redeeming qualities are troy as a whole (all of his lines are good, and that moment when he pretends his puppet is falling asleep is very funny), and the fact that pierce is not physically in it. but those do not make up for how horrific the rest of it is. in my opinion. haha.

❌ intro to knots: once again! Tied For My Least Favorite Community Episode! they're right next to each other, how convenient. and again: bad jokes, bad premise, I fucking hate professor cornwallis, the changnesia shit is back, the plot is ALL over the place, there is little to no actual character development, the dialogue just goes in circles, and it ends with a random litter of kittens that are never mentioned again??? I guess the only mildly important thing is the end tag with the evil study group, which comes back during the season finale. but yeah. not worth it. disgusting.

✅ basic human anatomy: and here we have a HUGE jump from the last one. this is my favorite season 4 episode, and is probably in my top 15 from the entire show. I could talk about this episode for hours. the troy development alone is so so so good and important. add abed into the mix and Oh Boy!!! britta is great in this one, jeff and the dean's whole thing is so fucking funny, shirley and annie competing against leonard for valedictorian on a technicality is very in character and silly, danny and donald's acting in this one is commendable, etc etc etc. there really isn't much, if anything, I dislike about this episode. jim rash being the credited writer makes me love him even more. legendary. outstanding.

✅ heroic origins: I actually really like this episode. it does still have that sort of unnatural and off-putting vibe that the majority of season 4 has, but I think it holds up. it's in character, it has some great jokes and one-liners, and although it does have its moments of discontinuity, it does a surprisingly good job of staying compliant with what has already been established. certainly much better than alternative history of the german invasion. abed's whole bit with the star wars prequels makes me laugh, the annie's boobs lore, footage of annie and troy in high school (surprisingly well done if you ignore the discontinuity of troy's injury), etc. it's also massively important for the overarching season plot, and we finally get to the conclusion of the stupid changnesia arc. I could go on and on, there's just a ton of really cool callbacks (including one to the pilot, which I only noticed a few months ago and am obsessed with), and I just. wasn't expecting this one to work out as well as it did. pleasantly surprised, all in all.

✅ advanced introduction to finality: this one is not great tbh, but it's too important plot-wise to skip. and, I mean, it does have some good moments. abed immediately recognizing evil jeff, the whole thing being in jeff's head a la remedial chaos all being in abed's head (insert something about how this being yet another demonstration of how fundamentally jeff and abed understand each other, which I could expand way more on but won't in this particular post), season 2 of the cape, "one of us is out of bullets" "is it you" "...yeah" "why would you tell me that," and more. overall, yeah, worth watching imo.

I do also want to say that I think season 4 is a bit overhated. I do agree that it is the worst season, I think most of us can agree that that is an objective truth, but it does have its moments and I do get slightly frustrated when people write the entire season off.

I’m also happy to hear anyone else's opinions on what you think is/isn't worth watching in season 4, especially if you really strongly disagree with me. I’m curious to what your reasoning is lmao.

okay! this is definitely way more elaboration than you needed, but I hope this was helpful 💯💯💯

#sorry again for the long wait on a response #thank you for your patience :) #community #nbc community #community nbc #media analysis #community encyclopedia

[ebdaydreamer]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by the lovely @buddiearemydads

im so close to being done with the hook up fic, I've just been so busy recently. interact with this post the be tagged when I finally post it

So, when he bounded into work one day, having just got the results of his latest DXA scan, he was practically floating.

“Oh, yeah? They measure the fat in your head?” Chimney teased.

But not even that could bring him down. “Ah, see, that would be funny, but we’re about a week away from submissions being due for the Hot Days, Smouldering Nights: Men of the LAFD wall calendar, and I’m already at my goal weight, so it seems like my head is clearly working perfectly.”

Predictably, Hen rolled her eyes.

The four of them bickered about the calendar, and Buck couldn’t help but tease Bobby and Chim a little. Younger sibling habits never die.

“I mean, sure, let’s be real. They are only picking one candidate from each station.”

Chim pointed behind him. “Ok, that is a beautiful man.”

Hen followed Chim’s finger and saw her eyes widen. “Where’s the lie? And I like girls.”

Buck turned slowly, wondering who the hell they could be talking about. Stevenson, from the B shift? Was he working today? He was fairly handsome.

Then he saw who was shirtless in the locker room, and he couldn’t help but agree. He was perhaps the most beautiful man Buck had ever seen in his life. And he knew what the others didn’t. He remembered the feeling of those abs under his tongue. He remembered his mouth pressed to his skin, a mark still adorning his collarbone. He remembered the taste of his come in the back of his throat.

Eddie. Eddie was in the locker room, putting on a LAFD uniform.

“Who the hell is that?” Why the hell is he here?

“It’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit.”

Hold on. A probie? Bobby had hired a new probie?

“Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at Station Six were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us.”

“What do we need him for? Um…” Buck tried to bite down his panic and was met with laughter.

“He served multiple tours in Afghanistan as an Army medic. Guy’s got a Silver Star. It’s not like he’s wet behind the ears,” Bobby told them.

Army. That must be where he got those scars.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you. He likes to be called Eight Pack.” Bobby is definitely teasing him, but Buck’s ears are ringing.

Eddie was here to replace him. He had to be. With a guy that competent on the team, what use would Bobby have for him?

Buck grimaced as Chim patted him on the stomach. He locked up that amazing night far back in his brain. Eddie might be the hottest man Buck has ever seen in his life, might have had sex with him that put him on cloud 9, but none of that mattered. He meant it when he told Bobby this job was all he had even more so as Abby drifted further and further away. But it wasn’t just the job, it was this team. Chimney, who cracked jokes and teased him like there was no tomorrow. Hen who rolled her eyes and gave great hugs. Bobby, who gave him advice and taught him how to cook and was already more of a father to him in the past year than his own father had been his whole life. He couldn’t lose it, no matter what. He’d fight and cling like his life depended on it.

He followed the group into the locker room and saw Eddie’s eyes flicker in recognition.

The team could not find out about them sleeping together. For one, they’d all think that he had returned to his Buck 1.0 days, and then all the respect he fought for would disappear. Respect that they just seemed to be throwing at the new guy. So he stuck out his hand. “Evan Buckley.”

Eddie gave a slight nod of understanding. He shook his hand firmly, and Buck briefly remembered that strong hand around his cock. “Eddie Diaz, nice to meet you.”

Buck snatched back his hand and tried his best to not storm off.

He’s pretty sure he failed.

tagging: @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @911onabc @gayedmundodiaz @wh0re-behavi0r @heartbeatdiaz @alyxmastershipper @gentoodiaz @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @buck-coded @wildlife4life @shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1

#the hook up fic #ellie writes #ellie talks #wip wednesday #911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 on abc #911 abc #tage games

[potential-fate]

#sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #the sims 2 #ts2 #my posts #Arkhelios GP #Abe Chun #Callum Walton #ChunR3 #I really love this cinematic #and I rarely see it since I don't normally throw parties for graduation #God Callum what an ugly ass suit

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] A dish best served cold

(Posted on AO3)

-

Iruka's just about done. All that's left for him is to hand in the files on the last genin graduates, and then he's off.

He can already taste the freedom.

In the Hokage's office, Shizune greets him absentmindedly, looking harried. It's Kakashi who holds out a hand for Iruka's folders, distinctly amused for his part.

"Anything of note?"

Iruka shrugs. "Not since we discussed it. Mind Aburame Miko, and Kuroki Abe needs a stable, reassuring jounin teacher--don't look at me like that, I told you about him, I'm not coddling--but other than that, it's all in the files." He watches Kakashi skim through the folder then close it with a decisive nod. "Will that be all?"

"Y--"

Not even looking up from the pile of documents she's setting aside on her desk, Shizune cuts in. "Actually, Iruka-sensei, could I trouble you with bringing these to T&I on your way out?"

Of all the places...

Iruka balks. "You want me to go to T&I?"

His tone makes her look up at long last. "Yes? Is that a problem?"

She's not the only one who takes notice.

"Do you have a problem with T&I?" Kakashi asks, posture suddenly tense.

"Ah, no, not at all," Iruka says in a rush.

That seems to do the trick, because Kakashi relaxes, eyes curved in a smile. Then he stands. "Good. I'll come along. I need to stretch my legs."

Damn it.

Shizune appears to share that line of thought. "Rokudaime-sama! We've still got--"

"--to go home and rest, you are absolutely right. We'll finish tomorrow."

"But--"

Head cocked to the side, Kakashi gives her a most cheerful smile. "Hokage's orders." He picks the T&I documents from her desk and shoves them at Iruka, who's too polite not to catch them when they slap his chest. "Lead the way."

*

"Is that Iruka?"

"Oh, Iru-chan!"

"Long time no see!"

Iruka holds in a snarl at the greetings that follow them all the way down the T&I wing. Kakashi gives him a few sidelong looks but stays blessedly silent following Iruka's threatening hiss of "Not. One. Word."

The man doesn't have to speak anyway. He's radiating enough hilarity to make up for it.

Ibiki's office is wide open, a sure enough sign the man was awaiting them. He waves them over.

"Ah, Iruka!" He says with a shit-eating grin. Then he tilts his head at Kakashi, who nods back. "Rokudaime."

Kakashi pulls out his book and picks a wall to lean against. "Please ignore me."

With a disgruntled huff, Iruka strides up to Ibiki and slams the documents on his desk. "Here. From Shizune-san."

Instead of taking them, Ibiki steeples his fingers and smiles deeper.

Iruka groans. "Come on, you can't keep holding me accountable for something I did when I was twelve years old!"

"Says who?"

"Says common sense, Ibiki. Come on!"

"I'm not holding you to anything, Iruka. Do feel free to leave."

"You know it's not that easy," Iruka says through gritted teeth.

"Do I?"

Even Iruka's dirtiest look, honed over years managing children, doesn't sway his composure.

Eyes closed on the threshold of the office, Iruka takes a deep breath, steels himself, and walks out.

*

The hallway is empty and the quiet, ominous.

Iruka sighs.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a hand here."

Behind him sounds the rustling of a page being turned. "Hm?"

"...Right."

Iruka takes note of their surroundings and the variety of subtle differences between now and their arrival. 

There’s a shimmer on the ceiling and a tilted emergency sign with evacuation routes. The fire extinguisher underneath has been bumped. A few feet over, one of the tiles is of a subtly darker tone, parallel to a line of translucence.

Iruka side steps it carefully and then lifts his feet high over the following chakra wire.

To the left, on the wall, he spots a mild explosive tag. He pats himself in search of a pen that Kakashi ends up handing him, nose still too buried in his godawful book to merit any thanks. Iruka scratches a few signs off the tag and then a few more off the twin tag hidden behind the evacuation sign, before pulling both off.

At best the fire extinguisher was left unaltered for safety reasons. At worst, it’s bait. Either way, he doesn’t touch it.

A hurled shuriken is quick to take care of the paint balloon hanging off the ceiling.

Iruka takes great pleasure watching the paint spread to the tile joints.

Until he realizes with dawning horror it's not just the joints that the paint is spreading to but sealing runes scratched into the tile itself, and he hurriedly drops one of the deactivated explosive tags to soak up the paint while he reactivates the other one. The pen almost tears through the paper as he scrawls an alternative trigger but he manages, and he's fast enough that when he slaps it on the tile, it's on time.

The focused explosion leaves a scorch mark and shards of ceramic behind, breaking the seal.

"Nice work!" Ibiki yells from his office.

Iruka should've slammed its door closed.

"Fuck you!"

Laughter is his only answer.

The rest of the journey happens in a similar fashion. Even the water dispenser is rigged, which he finds out when he has to dodge its sudden spray of ink as he makes to walk past it.

Behind him, Kakashi seems perfectly content to hop over the chaos Iruka leaves in his wake.

Though he does put his book away with a grin when they finally reach the exit door.

"Ah good, we're done," he says, taking the lead with a hand on the handle. "Allow me..."

"What, no, Kakashi wait --"

Light flashes, chakra flares and a burst of slime erupts from the door.

It flies everywhere. The ceiling drips, the floor slips, and the walls ooze in the radial shape of a filthy explosion. Nothing near was spared but Iruka, who happened to be shielded by Kakashi’s initiative and the wide shape of his robes.

Horrified faces poke out of the previously closed offices along the hallway.

"Oh no--"

"Rokudaime-sama!"

Grey hair dripping green sludge, the man himself turns around to stare at them, decidedly unimpressed.

"Shit--"

*

"Why the fuck didn't you evade that, Kakashi?" Iruka asks him later while Kakashi’s rubbing his own hair dry with a towel.

They're at Kakashi's place, takeout kept warm on the kotatsu. Having made tea while Kakashi washed up in the shower, Iruka's in the process of setting the tableware.

Kakashi throws his head back in a laugh. "Are you kidding me? Why should I have?"

Iruka's pointed look at the still dripping hair is self-explanatory.

Kakashi grins.

"Sure, but have you seen the look on their faces?"

#my scrawl #kakairu #umino iruka #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kkir #naruto #morino ibiki

[barb-depression-arc]

I AM MAKING A VILLAIN AU

I’ll be making a separate post with my ideas so far but basically Aizawa is technically the UA traitor though he’s rly more of a double agent.

Listen, Aizawa a criminal overlord dusts off his hero license to work at UA to get the backing of Nedzu.

Shouta absolutely despises the hero society as it is, he figured that if he wants to enact lasting change he has to start infiltrating the government and hero commission itself until he pulls all the strings. (Which he does in a big part of the criminal underworld)

He joined UA at 25, 7 years after he graduated (top of the class, he hasn’t joined any agency and bc he went into underground heroics the commission doesn’t give a shit ab him not being active for 10 years), so it will be his fifth year teaching when 1A hell class arrives.

He hasn’t reconnected with Hizashi and Nemuri after disappearing off the face of earth. Until the events of this year he’s been keeping them at arms length.

Idk if anyone will care but I wanted to do a villain!Aizawa for weeks and I finally have a pretty solid idea, it’s perhaps a bit unbelievable but why are we here if not to have fun??

#mha aizawa #aizawa fanart #my hero academia aizawa #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #bnha #aizawa shouta #barb’s aizawa art #people are so unnerved by him having the mask constantly at the school grounds #like no one (expect the ppl who knew him when he attended UA) knows what he looks like under that mask #barbs v!Aizawa au #villain!aizawa #villain aizawa

[spacelazarwolf]

i know ur getting a ton of asks ab the same post but id like to say considering how close to home your post hit:

im a 17 y/o transmasc and i live in mississippi. i was gonna go on testosterone THIS MONTH. my family has spent thousands of dollars that we do not have on getting me appointments with the only gender clinic in the area (who do not take our insurance btw) so i could start T. right before my appointment they signed the bill to outlaw HRT under 18. this is fucking infuriating. i will never be able to leave this state, im poor, disabled, and very far from graduating high school because of my health. even if i could, i still love my local queer community and my family and i don’t WANT to leave them. theres so many fucking factors to not being able to leave a red state, if people would look past their limited life experience it would be so apparent that the proper form of action is not to fight southern trans people who are already FIGHTING FOR OUR LIVES; the proper form of action is to shut the fuck up with your ‘and’s and ‘buts’ and fight against the people who are actively targeting and killing us. i dont get how people have so few thinking skills they can’t possibly imagine the hundreds of possible factors as to why we aren’t leaving. it feels too obvious.

!!!!! not to mention if you’re seeking gender affirming care, if you move you will likely have to start the entire process over again with new doctors and hospitals.

#ask avishai

[team-sanvich2]

Keeping up with my series, and do not worry, I have plans on making a master post with all of the Mercs and a summary of how each team operates as a sort of reflection of Redmon and Blutarch feel and treat their staff.

Anyway, onto the post, story is under read more and warning, this is all being written on mobile

Also, some information might not aligned with the ones presented on the drawing above.

Mr Ludwig, first name unknown, was born in Germany and raised by a brilliant Scientist named Ada and a shy but hard working field doctor name Alice.

The two women fell in love after Ada had a accident in her lab and was greeted by a kind and beautiful woman who nursed her back to health...without a license.

Alice had gone through med school despite how against it her family was but she did not care, she went to med school and graduated but once back home, her family kicked her out and she wasn't able to get a license, but in her heart, she believed that medicine should be for everyone, even if you cannot afford it.

Ada was so touched with the story that she offered to let her use her own laboratory as a facility to house and treat her patients, and in return, those who she treated would have their DNA samples given to her, blood, organs, bones, anything, as unlike Alice, Ada had a right to perform her experiments, she was trying to create life, but needed the right materials, this was all so she could create her own child without the need of a father, as she had no interest in them and in her eyes, they were only useful when she dissected them for materials for her experiments when In life, all they ever done was question her intelligence.

And so the Two worked together, Alice would sometimes comment that perhaps she could extract just the sperm cells of some of her subjects, but Ada said no, that it felt easy to simply get pregnant, she wanted a challenge, show mother nature what she could do with the pieces she had. And Ada would ask her how come the hospitals would not accept her, she was not only doing a good job for the community but without charging a nickel, Alice repeated that she believed Medicine should be for everyone, and sadly her family was one of power, so any hospital would get the risk of being shut down if they took her in, no matter how good at her job she was.

One time while Ada was looking over at blood samples, Alice accidentally cut herself, and in a act of impulse, Ada asked Alice for a blood sample from her, surprisingly, she agreed. As she looked over the sample, Ada Screamed Eureka and Ran to Alice and called her a angel from above, only to lock herself in her lab for days, Alice had no idea what she had done, but she argued that the scientist was the Saint, letting her using a facility that was basically her home with the threat of being put in jail and not having the child she wished to? She was putting a lot on the line for a stranger.

The days were over and Ada called Alice to her lab, and there, inside a glowing glass container was a embryo, she looked over the monitors and saw that it was in stable condition, the two women hugged but Alice had to ask who's blood she took, and Ada responded that her blood was the answer, she was trying to get a good sample that had AB type in it, as the other types aside from Ada's were not stable enough, and that played a bigger part than she expected, the organs weren't the problem, blood was, and thankfully, with Alice's help, she managed to make a stable embryo.

As the months went by and the embryo developed, Ada would sometimes see Alice checking the vitals, putting in the formula she helped Ada make for the future baby, and even buying a stuffed animal and blanket, even if it did not need it, Alice felt like giving those to them.

As time passed, Alice and Ada grew closer from simply best friends, and it all started when Alice said hello to the 4 month old Embryo saying

"hi there little one! I'm your other mommy" and Ada just stood there and asked

"You want to be that for him?"

She found it adorable when Alice kept saying sorry but Ada was not offended in the slightest, in fact, if she could ask anyone to be the other parent of her child, it would be Alice, and so the Two started dating.

However, disaster struck when police found the lab facility, Ada and Alice ran away with the baby still in the capsule, ready to be born. They traveled far until they reached the empty wagon of a train, where Ludwig was born. The conductor did not apprehended the two women once the train stopped, as he believed that Ada had just given birth and Alice was her best friend who ran away with her to help, instead he called a cab for them to go find a hotel and stay there for a while.

The years went by and Ludwig grew up to be a fine and respectable young man in his neighborhood, however he had one quirk that he shared with his mother Ada, a fascination for human anatomy and biology.

It started small, although it could be seen as a big step, Ludwig would go to the nurse's office and ask questions about how to treat injuries, the nurse thought it was okay and even decided to take him in as a assistant so he could learn, however she regretted as soon as Ludwig was left alone with his first "patient", when she was back, she screamed in horror as the boy was about to saw the arm of the other boy who was crying.

Once he was suspended, his moms grounded him but Alice could not deny that she saw potential in him, Ada did the Same, but not on his wants of treating humans, but the desire to experiment

Alice taught him about medicine and it's importance to the community, that at that time, free health care wasn't available yet, and Ludwig kept that code of never letting a patient die, EVER.

As for Ada, she introduced her son to her line of work, even showing him how he came to be, the blueprints for various machines as well as various chemicals with odd properties.

As time went by, Ludwig enlisted himself in world War 2, as a field doctor like Alice, who had sadly passed away by the time he was at the battle field, the news bring delivered via a letter sent by his mother Ada.

The man was distraught and in so much pain due to grief and guilt for not being present to mourn with his mother, that he did not notice that his base was under attack, and shot right in the head.

In his short time in the heavens, he met his mother (is canon in the TF2 universe, no joke) once more, he told her that as much as he wanted to stay, he wanted to keep helping the men in the battlefield, but he knew he couldn't just go back, so Alice confided in him a secret, a passage that went from heaven to hell, and the Devil would probably want something in return, she said it was the only option, he took it and hugged her while saying goodbye, hoping he would get to see her once more, one way or another.

The Medic walked down the Golden stairs that soon turned into silver, then bronze, then coper, and finally obsidian. He found the Devil rather quickly and decided to strike a deal, bring him back to earth, and in return, he could take the soul on each soldier he operated, the Devil was pleased, so much so that he took the doctor out for dinner. It felt like years passed there, but when Ludwig was finally brought back after a messy break up, the war was still going on.

The soldiers were frightened when he simply spat out the bullet that was lodged in his head, sat up and got out of the morgue and put back his uniform to act fast in the fields.

However, something was different about Ludwig, maybe it was his psyche from being in the Underworld for what felt like a year without seeing his mother, or perhaps he now saw himself as a God because of the same reason and the fact that he was back from the dead, or both, but he had become unhinged, he would request various organs to ensure the survival of the soldiers, some not even belonging to humans, and the soldiers would come back stronger...and unstable.

The Medic was kicked out near the end of the war, when he took out the skeleton of a perfectly healthy patient for the sake of experiment. He got back home and was happy to see his mother Ada, she even commented that he looked younger somehow, but he couldn't tell her that he got the Devil's touch.

Once Ada Passed and was buried next to Ada, Ludwig decided to move to New York, his small town felt too peaceful, he wanted a challenge, so he took the first boat he saw that would take that route and arrived in the city that never sleeps, and in the pier, he saw a individual that looked quite lost , his name was Misha.

The man that would become the Heavy had arrived in America to look for work to help his family, but he had never been to the city before and his English wasn't that understandable to the locals, but Ludwig managed to understand the man well enough to offer directions, they were staying in the same hotel in fact, and from there, they went from strangers to friends, to best friends, to lovers...but it did not last, as Heavy feared for the Doctor's life, some men he recognized from when he and his family ran from their home were now walking around the city, he wasn't sure that they were looking for him specifically, but he could not risk it, so he bid goodbye to the Doctor, who instead said "this doesn't feel like a goodbye...this feels like a see you later", as both had hopes to see one another again and about 3 years later, Redmon from Mann.Co hired both of them for the RED Team, and Ludwig and Misha were full of joy upon seeing each other.

They caught up in any news in their lives, they learned to work together as a team, and re-learned to work together as a couple, and by the end of the first year, Ludwig proposed, and Misha accepted, of course, in their contracts that just meant they had access to each other's contracts and other benefits, but they did not care.

Some time passed, and the Medic had a desperate experience, most of his team was either injured or dying as the BLU Team invaded the abandoned hospital they were taking as refuge, and during the despair, Ludwig discovered a new element, a mixture of blood, Jarate, and a Sandvich.

The element in question was one he recognized from his stay in Hell, a liquid that would keep sinners alive as they went through lethal acts of torture. On earth, it was formed of 1 Atom of Gallium, and 2 of Oxygen, he called it GOO.

He the proceeded to design a new model for his Medigun, and with the help of the engineer, not only was the new and improved Medigun was built, but also various other gadgets that would be later used in various adventures the RED and BLU team would encounter.

Ludwig made quite a lot of money after selling the rights and the composition of the formula to Mann.CO, which led to the mass production of Medkits, he gets paid a lot and is the main reason the RED team arguably has a more comfortable life compared to the BLU Team.

#art fortress 2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #tf2 red medic #tf2 #tf2 au