#cause it's like calling the kettle black

[laney-rockin]

It's canon that Spock likes to fuck with people and pretend he doesn't know human sayings just so he can make people explain it to him.

And then Kirk just knows when Spock is serious or is just being difficult and obtuse on purpose. They're married your honour.

#star trek #jim kirk #spock #star trek tos #tos star trek #tos spirk #star trek novels #double double #tos kirk #tos spock #this book is so fun so far #the plot is interesting #and the spirk is also kinda spirking #which it always should be #kirk calling spock 'difficult' is so funny #cause it's like calling the kettle black

[writingoddess1125]

Pot calling the Kettle Black

Mihawk x Reader + Alucare OOC

Just some domestic Fluff stuff and light violence.

Saw someone requested this! But when I went to answer the answer got deleted cause my laptop overheated and shut off ;-; I'm so sorry! (If you were the person please DM me I do apologize)

Anyway Enjoy!!

"For goodness sake" You sigh as you watch the comb snap from your sons hair. Tossing the ruined item to the side to later be thrown away.

You sat there trying to brush through Alucare's thick hair. It seemed the salty air had decided to reek havoc on his dark locs and render them a crusty tangled mess.

"This is humilating-" He grumbled sitting on the floor of the cabin you and Mihawk shared, Wincing everytime you ran the now 4th comb through his hair and encountered a knot.

"Sorry honey but you're too tall for me when you sit in the chair" You admit, needing the upper angle in order to even attempt to manage his hair.

You rinced his hair in more fresh water but it seemed no matter how much you used it was not helping in softening the hardened locs.

Yanking more on his hair which earn another pained grunt in discomfort from the boy- Both of you not noticing the door opening as Mihawk watched calmly from the doorway lf the cabin.

"Struggling?" He finally spoke, revealing himself to the both of you as you pulled the comb from Alucare's hair.

"Yes, His hair is so dry was the sea air that it's a wavy mess" You say gesturing to his locks with a defeated sigh. Alucare glancing back at his father who seemed amused by the sight, Mihawk walking into the room fully and taking the comb from you as well as reaching into the bag he personally carried and grabbing a jar.

"I'll help, Come" He said calmly and gestured to the chair in the room. Alucare turned his nose to this but sighed in defeat as he stood up and sat in the chair. Mihawk going behind him and taking the hair product he used began to comb it through his hair- Softening it enough to take out the knots.

You looked on in surprise at the two- It was a very cute father son moment in your eyes as you watched Mihawk with care detailed his sons hair.

"The salt from the sea will dry out your hair and stick to you. Add more conditioner" He grumbled, Alucare nodding at this as Mihawk with gentle hands detailed the boys hair.

"Why bother keeping your hair so long to begin with?-" Mihawk asked, raising a brow noting that when continuing it was just past the center of his back. Far too long for his taste.

"Cause when it was shorter I got mistaken for you and almost scared a Marine half to death" He said calmly, Mihawk freezing in his actions before he cracked a small smirk and continued his task at hand.

"I see" He said calmly continuing the task at hand. However was forced to stop just halfway through and pulled Alucares hair back in a low ponytail for the time being.

"Out of product.. We will be stopping in a village soon for your mother to stretch her legs- we will gather more hair product for you" he said calmly as Alucare stood from the chair and gave a short thanks.

Standing in the little general store Mihawk turned his head to see Alucare speaking with a girl- A pretty girl. How her cheeks were red and she was clearly swoon- Alucare also flirting back with a charmed smile on his face, he knew that look well.

It wasn't long till the three of you (four on the way) made it to a tiny village to get some supplies for the journey. Deciding a small store near the docks would have the hair supplies for the teen.

The young girl played with a lock of her dark brown hair, her ebony sparkling as Alucare clearly wooed her and she gave a shy nod. Earning a smile from his son and he nodded walking back towards you two- Noting that Mihawk had clearly noticed.

"Mother, they are having a summer festival in a few days, Would you like to attend?" Alucare asked, seeing how your face lit up at the idea. Chattering excitedly at wishing to do this as Mihawk stared at his spawn- Clever.

"What do you saw Mihawk? Wanna stay for the festival?" You ask softly, he looked in your eyes and knew he wouldn't refuse you. So he gave a soft nod to you. Alucare smirked at this as he clearly got what he had wanted- Grabbing the hair stuff he needed quickly he smirked. The Warlord hummed, knowing damn well what was to come soon.

In less then 5 hours his son was off running around with this girl- Mihawk saw how this girl and Alucare ran around the island together clearly he had wooed her a bit too well. Knowing that his son was plotting to win her heart and win something else before departing- The adventurous feeling of the sea clearly infecting him with wonder and interest. He had done the same, it came with being out on sea.

The day of the festival Mihawk was excited for all the wrong reason- Sure he was happy to get to spend the festive day with you but really he wanted to see the blow up that was about to happen-

A stolen kiss and a blushing of a innocent girl had Alucare confidence up and bolstered, even if he knew it may be cruel to do. On the second night Alucare snuck onto the ship, not expecting Mihawk to still be awake waiting for him as he cleaned his blade.

"You lied to her I take it?-" Mihawk asked, Already knowing the answer to the question. Alucare nodding silently-

"Her heart is going to be broken when she finds our you're leaving" He said calmly and met his sons gaze.

"That's why I won't tell her. Goodnight" He said shortly and headed to his Cabin on the ship. Mihawk shaking his head at this- Not under his watch.

Was this his live soap opera? Hell yes it was.

"Ready to head out back to sea Alucare? We need to leave by morning. Who is your friend here?" Mihawk said quite louder then his normal tone, purposely making sure the girl heard every word he said.

Once at the festival Alucare separated from you both rather quickly, most likely to enjoy himself elsewhere with the girl. Leaving the two of you alone to enjoy one another. The dancing, the food and even the drink had been fantastic. Seeing you dance and dress up for the lovely festivities had been worth every Berry he spent, the pretty festival clothes complimented you well and he couldn't help but keep his hands on you.

Truthfully having spent the day with you he had forgotten the whole ordeal with Alucare. Till he son his son running up a scenic hill for the firework show.

Staying for the fireworks with you he silently plotted what he would do. Knowing they would probably still be on that scenic hill once over- You were also pretty tuckered out and he didn't want to stress you or the baby. Getting you back to the ship to rest after the fireworks Mihawk set in his plan and went back out to the festive grounds to find his son and burst his little bubble.

"Ah there you are my Son" Mihawk said calmly as he walked towards the kissing teen couple- the two pulling away as Alucare eyes were as wide as saucers at being caught.

"Wait you're leaving?- You're family didn't move here?" She asked sharply, Alucare sending a murderous glare at his father. Not expecting the old man to not only catch him but also absolutely call him out on his bullshit.

"Seems so" He said nonchalantly, clearly trying to play it cool for being caught so bluntly. "It seems some things have changed so I will be leaving"

"You lied to me!" She hissed angrily, clenching her fist.

"I did-" He said calmly which made her angrier.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she fumed, Alucare stepping back as he tried to clearly step out of the emotional situation. However neither Mihawk nor Alucare expected what happened next- In a second she pulled back and pushing cheddar him square against the jaw with a bone bending strength.

Alucare stumbled back so hard Mihawk had to catch him and both their eyes were wide at such a hard punch from the little lady. Her eyes narrowed at both of them in anger and Mihawk had a wave of deja vu.

"I will not forget this Asshole!" She yelled, huffing as she stormed away angrily down the scenic hillside back to the village.

Mihawk standing Alucare up fully as both of them seemed a bit dazed. The two Dracule men walking back to the ship where you were waiting for them.

As Alucare boarded the ship he glanced to the side seeing his father with a amused gleam in his eyes as he waited for him to board.

"Was it fun heartbreaker?" He teased, earning a glare from the teenager as he grumbled and went on the ship. Ignoring the ache from his cheek which was sure to be blue and purple by the days end.

"Oh shut it-" Alucare grumbled as Mihawk gave a noise which was as close to a chuckle he got. Before the family retired to bed.

Once out to sea you had prepared your small family a meal and all seated in the ships small breakfast you scolded you son and gave him a ice pack for his swollen cheek.

"That was very unkind Alucare, I raised you better then that" You warn and he sighs at this, Accepting the verbal lashing he was getting from you.

"By the way- What was that poor girl's full name? You are going to send a apology to her" You tell him, still disappointed in your son for stealing that girls first kiss and lying to her.

Alucare paused his eating for a moment, thinking back "Beckman.. Lyra Beckman I believe-"

There was a mild choking noise from the older man, Mihawk sighed heavily at this as he rubbed his temple... Of fucking course it was...

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader

[thot4ellie]

oh sweetheart pt 3

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 5.4k!!! longest part yet yay

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol, boxing, kissing, joel is dead in this, talk of abusive relationship, smoking, they’re drunk but eveything is consensual ofc! lmk if im missing anything

summary: you and ellie share a moment and both of you admit it :)

author notes: hi everyone thank you for all the love on this series <<<333 this is a good one! not all the way edited yet but i wanted to post cause i finished it 20 minutes ago! sorry for the wait but i think maybe some smut in the near future ;) requests are open and id love any feedback. thank you for 200 followers and over almost 2000 likes!! this is unbelievable and im so grateful! pls let me know if u want to be added to the taglist!!!

part 3 | part 4

series masterlist | main masterlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

finally friday is here, it feels like you’ve been counting the minutes until you see her again. you woke up around eleven am and put water in the kettle to make yourself some tea as you went to the bathroom to get your morning routine done, paramore playing over your speaker in the bathroom. your routine is something you’ve started to build since you moved to try and keep your anxiety at bay, not all the time it works but its a good way to get your day started. you started with washing your face, brushing your teeth, then brushing the bedhead out of the mess you call hair.

a couple minutes later, you hear the kettle hiss and you make your way back to the kitchen and turn off the stove. you picked your favorite mug out of your cabinet and make your tea. leaving the kitchen, you went back to sit on the couch and think about a million different outcomes that would possibly happen tonight when you see her. you wonder if you’re reading too much into the way she talked to you, was she even flirting with you at all? or just being nice? did she just feel bad about seeing what happened outside her gym?

your phone buzzed in the mist of your thoughts on your and you read a text from dina telling you they’re leaving for the gym around 7 and if you wanted a ride. before responding you pulled up the weather app on your phone and decided you could walk there, its a warm summer day out again and by the time the sun fell, it would be cool enough to walk and it was only about 15 minutes from your house, that and leaving open the possibility that she would want to drive you home again.

you texted her back saying that you would just meet them there. you looked at the time seeing its about eleven thirty so you still have a while until you have to leave. you decided you were gonna be productive today. you did laundry and washed your sheets, did the dishes, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and made a sandwich for lunch even thought by now it was 4 o clock. as you were walking around your apartment, you made a mental note to try and find some nice thrift stores around to help you decorate your place. you made your way to your bathroom to shower for tonight.

you love taking long showers, its your guilty pleasure. thanking god that your landlord pays your water bill as you dried off from the shower, put on your strawberry lotion, a big black t-shirt and fuzzy socks to hang around in while you did your hair and minimal makeup. you couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her tonight. new girl was playing on the tv in your room as you finished the final touches on your face. doing light everything since its hot but still wanting to look nice for the occasion: finally seeing her again.

four episodes later and its 6 o clock so you change into a pair of black levi shorts and a green top. your hair and makeup still looked good from earlier so nothing to touch up but you still triple checked yourself. you wish you could have smoked today to help beat the nerves but you wouldn’t have anything until tonight, smiling to yourself thinking of you and her on the phone both laughing when you asked if she was bribing you. you slipped on your converse, grabbed your bag, and locked the front door behind you and started making your way to ellie’s gym.

you got there around seven and you didn’t see jesses car yet but you did see hers. ellie’s beat up 2000 green honda cry sat in a spot towards the back of the parking lot. memories of you leaning on her window practically admitting you liked when she called you sweetheart and the peaceful feeling of comfortable silence you both held.

you heard someone call your name in the distance to turn and see dina getting out of the car, you were so concentrated on ellies car you didn’t even see them pull in. you made your way over and greeted them with a hug as dina wrapped your arm in hers and dragged you in with her, jesse following behind. you tried to calm your nerves but it just wasn’t working. not nervous about being here, even after what happened outside with the man last time, but of seeing her again. you’ve only spoken to her a handful of times but you thought of her more times than you can count.

as soon as you made it closer towards the front door, it was loud, like the first time you were here. loud people, loud lights, loud everything but now knowing it was ellie’s changed it. jesse held the door as dina went in first and you both followed. florescent lights beamed from above you, shining on the sweaty bodies in the gym. it was just like it was the first time you came. your nerves followed you everywhere, but it was worth seeing her again.

you went in and dina guided you guys to the same table you had last time. you wonder if they sit here every time. you looked around for ellie but you didn’t see her anywhere. you saw her car so she has to be here.

dina and jesse got up to go get drinks from the makeshift bar while you sat and waited for them to bring back your drink. you looked over to them waiting their turn when you heard something behind you.

“hey sweetheart,” she whispered close to your ear, and before you could respond she pulled out the the seat next to you and sat down.

“hey ellie,” you said almost startled. she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a black t shirt and all her tattoos were showing this time. it was almost mind blowing seeing her and you couldn’t even explain what it did to you. you don’t understand why a girl you barely know has this effect on you.

“i told you to call me el,” she said and laughed kindly towards you, “i have the stuff for you” she finished.

“oh thank you, i’d hope so considering that’s the reason i came,” you joked.

“wait you mean you didn’t come to see me?” she said sounding fake hurt.

“that was just a plus,” you flirted. dina and jesse came back to the table with the drinks before she responded to you and they both greeted ellie as they sat.

“hey els we didn’t see you before we ordered the drinks, i can go get one for ya?” jesse asked her.

“nah i’ll wait til the next round, thanks though” she told him. she smiled at you and the conversation started between all four of you, before you knew it an hour and a half passed, you had more three more rounds and just enjoyed your friday night. the match started and you find it so convenient that you can still see the ring from where the table is so theres no need to get up and watch considering its not ellie up there.

you watched for a bit until it was coming to the end, cheering erupted and ellie told dina and jesse that she was going out for a smoke, before she got up, she leaned over to you and whispered “you coming sweetheart?” softly in your ear, her face inches away from yours, then she moved back and smiled. she held out her hand and you held it as she pulled you up with her as you blushed so hard, you swear you turned into a tomato.

your eyes stayed on her hand holding yours and the beautiful moth tattoo covering her arm, not believing that she’s actually touching you again. you followed behind her as she moved with you through the gym towards the door, as you walked out still hand in hand you saw the side of the building, it was the same place she defended you the first time you met her.

she lead you over to a bench that you never even realized was there. your hands broke as you both sat, she went pull out her cigarette pack and the lighter from her back pocket when she noticed you were staring at her still. she smirked as she opened the pack, and surprisingly pulled out a joint. she put it in her mouth and brought the lighter up to it before telling you “its not polite to stare sweetheart.”

you blushed and looked away as soon as she said it. she laughed and she passed the joint to you, you told her you just couldn’t help it. and you really couldn’t, she’s breathtaking. the way her freckles danced across her whole face, her eyes had a small tint of brown circling her iris, the scar on her right eyebrow, the way her lips just sat perfectly on her face. you so badly want to reach out and touch them again.

you hit it a couple times, you are sure your cheeks haven’t been back to normal since you saw her and you wonder if she’s noticed. you passed her back the joint and she staring at you taking in every detail of you too as she brought it to her mouth and took a hit. blowing out the smoke she smirked, and said “i can’t either sweetheart.”

she leaned back against the bench, legs spread a little as she handed you the joint and asked, “so what brought you here besides jesse?” she acquired. you told her about living in brooklyn, above the cafe you worked and how your time spent there wasn’t totally great but the real reason was running from a shitty past, you weren’t ready to tell her specifics but you told her that’s why you left, you had to get away from what happened there but it was more like who. she told you she understood and then she told you “well i’m glad you’ve made your way here sweetheart.”

you don’t know if it was the alcohol or weed but you sat outside on the bench for another 20 minutes, smoking and laughing as you talked about so much: you talked about the tv shows you’re both watching, the albums you had on repeat, the guilty pleasures you both had and what you both did in your free time. you spoke to one another like you’ve known each other for years. it just feels so good to talk to someone like this again.

she learned that your parents live in portland, so moving coasts was a big deal but you felt like you were on auto-pilot growing up and you knew you had to get out when you could, she learned that you dropped out of college two years and haven’t made any plans to go back but you would like to. you told her a couple funny stories about you and jesse growing up and she laughed at them all.

you found out that she plays guitar and that she spends time drawing and journaling. you learn that ellie was adopted when she was 14, she grew up in boston, and she has an older sister named sarah but that she doesn’t come around much anymore since she gotten married. she told you that her dad passed away from a heart attack about a year ago and since then, her and her uncle tommy.

“im sorry to hear about your dad els” you sympathized.

“its okay sweetheart, just fucking sucks sometimes.” she responded softly as she put the joint out next to her and slipped it back in her cigarette pack. instead this time she pulled out a cigarette and lit that this time. she slid it in her pocket before she stood up off the bench, offering you her hand again and said you should probably head back inside.

you grabbed her warm hand and stood up to follow her, you started the walk towards the side door but before she opened it, she turned around to you and faced you.

“hey sweetheart?” she asked.

“yes els?” you waited for her to continue, her hand still covering yours.

“im glad you came sweetheart, this was nice, i mean as nice as it gets sitting on the side of this place,” she laughed softly, you felt like she was closer than ever but maybe because you just wanted her to be, “you know, id love to do this again.. and maybe play you something on my guitar.. if you want.” she said almost nervously, feeling the urge to look away from you.

“i would love that els.” you said, looking up from staring at your hands together to smiling in her face. you cant believe she asked you, part of you prayed she would, you knew there was a connection here. she realized it too. your eye contact never faded as you stood here.

“great, im looking forward to it more than you know,” she told you sweetly. she let go out hand and you felt slight disappoint in your heart as you assumed she was going to turn around and open the door and this moment would be over. instead, she brought her hand up to your face and let it rest on your cheek as she brushed her thumb over it. the touch of her warm hand sent sparks through your body this time and you couldn’t be bothered moving as she grew closer to you.

“you have no idea how much i wanna kiss you right now.” she whispered, from only what felt like two inches away from your lips. fuck, you thought silently. she was so close to you, you could feel her breathe as she spoke.

“please do it.” you practically whined, you couldn’t take this anymore. all you wanted to do was feel her lips on yours. after you spoke, you felt her thumb move from your cheek to brushing your lips softly. the drinks you had definitely brought out your confident and the want you had for her.

“oh sweetheart,” she purred towards you, “how badly i want to but it has to be more special than this.” she said moving her thumb back to your red cheek.

“just as long as it happens el,” you responded, breathing heavier as your nerves grew in anticipation.

she nodded as she slowly moved her hand off your face and brought it down to your hip and gave it a squeeze, still smiling at you as she reached to open the door and let you through in front of her.

you walk back into the gym and went to find jesse and dina. you saw jesse at the bar and ellie went over to him, telling you she was getting more drinks. you went over to dina at the table and took a seat next to her. you asked her how the match went and she told you same as always and nothing crazy this time.

“you guys were out there for a while, whats up with that?” dina asked while smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“dina…” you laughed, “we just smoked and talked for a bit.” you replied to her.

“sureeee that’s all, we see the way you look at her!”, she squealed, “and the way she looks at you, it just seems pretty obvious.”

you laughed and told her that nothing happened yet but you did admit to her that you wanted it to.

“stop we knew it!” she laughed loudly and hit the table in excitement. you pulled your hands to your face that was full of embarrassment.

“what do you mean you knew it, was it obvious?” you gasped. your eyes darting towards ellie at the makeshift bar.

“to me and jesse yes.” she told you still smiling over the fact that her two friends maybe starting something new soon.

as you went to reply, the drinks were on the table, jesse and ellie were back already at the table pulling their chairs. the conversation between you and dina came to a halt as you all started talking. you all sat, conversing and finished your last round by the time it hit around 11 pm. you were getting tired and you were definitely drunk after all the rounds of drinks everyone bought. the matches ended an hour ago and you guys were the last few people left besides the lady behind the bar and a couple stragglers paying their tab and chatting.

“hey i think me and d are gonna head out,” he said looking over to dina, who was definitely feeling all the drinks she had, he laughed and said, “this one needs to make it home into bed. can you make it home okay? i can take you now if you need” he asked talking to you.

“no i’m gonna take her home.” ellie cut in before you could respond. you looked at her and smiled as jesse told you to text when you both got home safe. he helped dina up and they made their way to the door. your eyes followed til they left and then you turned to ellie, who was already staring at you.

“that okay sweetheart? that i take you home again?” she asked smirking towards you.

“yeah els, that’s okay.” you blushed as she stood up and put her hand out for the third time tonight. you connected your hands again. touching her had your skin was burning up. you followed her into a back office. paperwork, receipts, and random things littered the room. as you looked around and saw a decent couch, a safe in the corner and a coffee area on a little table and a large desk with folders and boxes of things you didn’t know.

you watched as ellie disconnected your hands to go over to pick up her backpack from the side of the couch and then she grabbed a jacket she had hanging over the deck of the chair to the desk, she slid it over her shoulders then grabbed a piece of paper, writing something non legible from where you were standing. she smiled when she turned towards you and held her arm out motioning to the door for you guys to exit.

the stragglers were gone and the bartender bid ellie goodnight as she walked out the front door. you walked the distance of the gym and made it to the door with ellie, she leaned over and turned the lights off and then held the door opened for you.

you told her thank you and she nodded towards you, “i think we should walk, it’s not far from your apartment.” she spoke looking towards you for confirmation as she turned and locked up the gym for the night.

“that’s okay but how are you going to get home without your car?” you asked. you didn’t want her walking home alone either, you knew she could handle herself but still, the thought made you worry.

“i’m only 5 minutes away from you actually so its not far, ill be back for my car tomorrow.” she told you. you nodded and both of you continued to walk the sidewalk in a comfortable silence next to each other. you glanced up at the sky, noticing the stars and the way the moon beamed over the city. it was so much cooler now than it was earlier and you moved to brush over the goosebumps that covered your arms. ellie noticed your movement and took off her jacket. you turned when you noticed what she was going and told her, “no its okay we’ll be there soon i don’t need it.”

“sorry sweetheart, got to make sure you stay warm.” she smirked as she put it over your shoulders and watched as you put your arms in. you smiled to her as you readjusted it and continued the walk to your place. the smell of her engulfed you and you’ve never felt so comfortable.

“its so beautiful.” you whispered, “and quiet, new york was never like this. they don’t lie when they say the city never sleeps ya know?” you finished.

the city you moved to that you wish you could escape from. the shitty and abusive relationship you wish you could leave behind. the things you tried the most to forget. you never spoke about it, you just ran. the city you wished had better memories connected with it. but now all you want is to create new memories.

when you moved across the country, you told yourself that you’re not getting into anything here because you know you need to heal from the those years of abuse and insecurity so the last thing you expected was to meet ellie and end up feeling this way about her. you don’t want this to happen and you ruin it because you aren’t okay but with her, you feel like you could be okay one day.

“i could only imagine, boston was a busy place too but not the same, it always is quiet here.” she chuckled softly.

“i love it, things finally seem calm now.” you smiled as you looked her. she took in the sight of you in her jacket and she loved it. she can only imagine seeing you wear her t shirts… or nothing at all. she shook the thoughts from her head but she just couldn’t help it. you were the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. you were breathtaking. she couldn’t believe she’d met someone like you in this shitty small town.

the town where her dad and her moved, and the memories of them together haunted her. now that he was gone, she knew a piece of her was missing. things were incomplete without him. he was all she thought about, the guilt of what happened and how she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

the only time ellie wasn’t thinking about joel was when she was thinking about you, she was grateful that she met you. she didn’t know what this was going to turn into but she hoped it would be something. she sees the effects she has on you and she wishes she really knew how to communicate with you that she feels the same way about you.

you continued the walk in a comfortable silence, both of you wrapped in your thoughts of each another and eventually made it to the front of your building. you turned to face her with a smile,“here i am,” you spoke softly to her, not wanting the night to come to an end.

“here you are, thank you for letting me take you home sweetheart, call it peace of mind,” she admitted.

“thank you for walking me els… do you want to come up?” you said without a thought. you didn’t know if this is was the alcohol talking but you know you didn’t regret it when you said it and you wish that’s what you could blame it on but you knew you wanted this even sober.

“if you want me to sweetheart” she smirked as she responded.

you stepped closer to her as you looked at her, only a couple inches away from her face, watching her eyes move from your eyes to your lips. you knew you both could feel the tension.

“please just say yes.” you sighed wishing you could feel her lips on yours already.

“okay sweetheart, lets go.” she pulled away but connected your hands and it took you a second to recognize that she agreed. you turned around, suddenly nervous about the fact that she’s going to see where you spend your days. you opened the door to the lobby, and ellie held the door as you both walked in. she followed you up the stairs by the front, and you made your way to the front door as you held ellie’s hand in one and used the other to pull your keys from your bag.

you unlocked the door and you brought ellie in with you before the door was shut and you were locking it. you took off her jacket and put it on your coat rack and turned to look at her.

“okay it’s kind of a mess so i’m sorry but-“ you started before she cut you off.

“sweetheart, your place is practically spotless, you should see mine.” ellie laughed.

you laughed as you pulled ellie over to the green couch that took up a lot of your living room but it was a dream purchase and you loved it. you told ellie to take a seat as you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed some water for you both. as you were walking back towards her, she was digging around in her backpack. as you placed the waters down and took a seat, she pulled out weed in a jar and handed it to you.

“here this is yours.” she said.

“oh thank you! i totally forgot, do you want to smoke now- fuck i don’t think i have anything to roll with.” you told her as you went to open the windows in your living room.

instead of saying anything, she reached back into her backpack and pulled out a jar of already rolled joints.

“i came prepared.” she laughed, “and you won’t owe me anything for that.” she said, motioning to the stuff she gave you as her hands were cracking open the jar of pre-rolls.

“ellie- no i’ll give you the cash,” but she shook her head no and brought the lighter to the joint between her lips.

“no, it’s on me, don’t worry about it.” she responded as she took a hit.

“do you give other people weed for free?” you asked, looking at her as she was smoking while sitting next to you on the couch. you wish you could stay like this forever.

“only pretty girls that i like…” she said sweetly as you held eye contact as she handed you the joint.

“oh so you think i’m pretty?” you teased her as you took a hit.

“sweetheart, i think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” she told you. you instantly blush and look away from her, trying not to choke on the smoke you held in your lungs.

“thank you els, i think you’re beautiful.” you said to her. when you looked up, you saw her cheeks tint lightly as she grabbed the joint you held out to her.

“thanks sweetheart.” she said as she put the joint down on a cup at the table you’d been using as an ashtray and she brought her hand up and held your cheek like she did earlier. you couldn’t help yourself as you nuzzled your face into her warm hand. your eye contact only made the tension in the room worse.

“you really are beautiful… sweetheart, can i?” she asked as she looked down at your lips. you nodded and as she came closer, your lips just barely brushing, as she asked, “i need to hear you pretty girl.”

“yes please els- please just kiss me already.” you begged.

her lips were on yours before you could even realized this was actually happening. your lips moved slow together at first but you couldn’t help yourself from deepening the kiss as ellie brought her other hand up and tangled it in your hair as you moaned, her tongue slipped into your mouth, both of you tasting the weed and alcohol you consumed.

one of your hand rested against her chest and the other gripping her arm as you melted into the kiss. both ellie’s hands were in your hair now as your tongues continued to fight for dominance but you let her win and moaned again and she swallowed it as she kissed you.

ellie pulled your leg over her lap so you straddled her, never breaking your lips apart. your lips continued to move in sync as you grinded against her. her hands on your hips moving with you. your lips stay connected until you broke the kiss to come up for air and rested your forehead on hers.

“you okay sweetheart?” ellie panted as she caught her breath too.

“yes els just need a second.” you said as your eyes stayed shut while you tried to control your breathing. you couldn’t believe that you guys finally kissed. the tension was killing you both and now it’s finally happened.

“hey it’s okay, take your time sweetheart.” ellie said as she rubbed a hand along your thigh at a comfortable pace, brushing the cloth from your shorts as she moved it. she brought the other one up to your cheek and lifted your head to look at you. you looked tired and ellie didn’t want to take full advantage of you after you guys had been drinking and smoking all night.

“hey sweetheart, lets get you to bed, we’ll finish this another time i promise.” she said sweetly as you mumbled an “okay els thank you,” and moved off her lap to sit back on the couch. ellie stood up and offered her hand. you stood up and walked both of you to your bedroom.

you moved to sit on the edge of your king sized bed and ellie stood in front of you still holding your hand as you asked her if she wanted to stay the night because it was late and you didn’t want her walking home.

“sure sweetheart i’ll sleep on the couch, and only for your peace of mind.” she chuckled, thinking back to the conversation earlier.

“els we can share the bed, it’s okay, i’ll keep my hands to myself.” you joked and she laughed.

“i don’t think i’d be complaining if you couldn’t but i’m okay on the couch.” ellie insisted.

“els please just lay with me.” you said looking up at her as she moved her hand to rest on your cheek again.

“okay sweetheart.” she finally agreed.

you smiled up at her and you took ellie’s hand from your face and guided her into the bathroom connected to your room. she watched as you bent down and opened the sink cabinet and grabbed a toothbrush. you turned around and handed it to her with a smile. you guys brushed your teeth and then went back into your bedroom.

ellie stood here as you moved across the room to your dresser, and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts from your drawer and handed them over to ellie. she told you thank you and you smiled at her. ellie walked into the bathroom to change and you walked back to the dresser. you stripped yourself of your shirt and bra before throwing on a different oversized tee and changing your underwear. you didn’t even realize you were soaked after what happened on the couch.

ellie watched you as she leaned against the bathroom door frame as you untangled the sides of your underwear after you pulled them up.

“you’re perfect”, she thought in head before speaking out loud. “thanks sweetheart.” you turned around when ellie spoke, sending her a smile before you moved to your side of the bed, you grabbed the duvet and moved it so you both were able to get in your bed.

you and ellie laid facing each other in a comfortable silence as you were both growing incredibly tired. you felt your eyes starting to get heavy and felt ellie’s hand brush your hair back from your face so you kept your eyes open to look at her.

“el?” you whispered.

“yes sweetheart?” she spoke quietly back to you.

“i really like you… i don’t know if this is too early but it just feels right.”

“i feel it too sweetheart, i like you too so don’t worry,” ellie said softly, hand still holding your face, “now get some sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning pretty girl.”

“goodnight els.” you whispered.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou game #tlou series #ellie tlou #tlou2 #pedro pascal #ellie williams series #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams angst #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie #jesse the last of us #dina the last of us #the last of us part 2

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.  

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.  

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

.

.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.  

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

.

.

.

[TAG LIST] CLOSED

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 3

[dellalyra]

𝙔𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙇𝙖𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 - 𝘍𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

A/N: submission request from my dearest darling @soraya-daydreams, coming in clutch with the cute ideas.

CW: like one suggestive sentence, almost crack, hints that pixie loves her fashion

“Y/N!” A scream (clearly Nobara) echoed down the corridor of the school as you organised some books in the Jujutsu High library.

“Y/N!” Yuuji, this time.

“Mom!” Unless Akio had miraculously learned how to speak at 6 months old then that was Megumi.

Three figures skidded around the corner, through the library door and landed in a heap of limbs and black, brown and pink hair. You just raised your eyebrows.

“I’ve heard walking slowly causes less injuries, but hey, what do I know?” You smirk, as the kids untangle themselves.

Nobara is clutching a bundle of fabric in her hands, creamy white and brown - clearly something stained.

“Y/N, this is a DEFCON level one emergency - we screwed up like, majorly.” Nobara uttered, hand on her hip.

“You screwed up majorly, Itadori and I were just sitting there.” Megumi pointed out.

“But ‘Gumi! We were witnesses, that makes us like - accessories to murder!” Yuuji scrambles.

Your heart skipped hearing Yuuji call your son ‘Gumi’, something he only let you and Satoru and Tsumiki call him beforehand, you also don’t miss the blush on his pale cheeks - reinforcing your idea that the feelings these two had for each other were not simply platonic.

Wait -

Did Yuuji say murder?!

“Okay, who’s dead? Where’s the body? Have any of you touched anything at the scene? Megumi I need you to -” you immediately went into practical mode and all of those true crime documentaries and podcasts come flooding back.

“Jesus, mom, no - not actual murder. Yuuji is just exaggerating.” Megumi says, eyes rolling.

“I really fuck with the ‘act now, questions later’ vibe though, Y/N. Queen behaviour.” Nobara says, throwing a peace sign with the unoccupied hand.

“We were just having coffee! Well, Megumi and Nobara were having coffee - I was having orange juice.” Yuuji adds.

“Guys. What’s broken or who’s injured?” You say, mom voice appearing.

“Um… so! I was drinking my coffee, and Ijichi left something on the table, because he’s dumb!” Nobara starts frantically explaining.

“No - ah ah, we love Ijichi, this school wouldn’t function without Ijichi. Don’t listen to your Sensei.” You butt in because there will be no Ijichi slander in your presence.

“Sorry, Y/N. Anyway! I was drinking my coffee! The coffee got knocked over and spilled! It spilled onto this!” She says, holding up the ruined white fabric in her arms, as both boys grimaced.

You gasp.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper.

“That’s what I said!” Yuuji interjects.

“Shit.” You say again, examining the fabric in your hands

“That’s what I said.” Megumi groans.

“Motherfucker.” You toss your head back.

“That’s what I said!” Nobara nods.

“Okay. Let’s fix this. Eh… Megumi! Go to see Ijichi - ask him for washing detergent - he lives in the staff accommodation, so he can get us some. Nobara, I need you to boil the kettle and get some boiling water and cloths, okay? Yuuji, do you have vinegar in the kitchen? Because we need that.” You list off, desperately trying to remember what gets rid of coffee stains.

Megumi nods and leaves, Nobara rushes from the room and Yuuji salutes and darts to the kitchen.

This has to work.

Because the coffee flavoured thing in your hands is your husbands tailored white silk Yves Saint Laurent dress shirt, which he adores.

Which he also bought for ¥250,000.

After a moment the three kids come back with the required equipment and you combine all three and dunk the shirt into the mixture to soak for 15 minutes.

As the timer beeped on your phone, you took out the shirt and quickly realised it was absolutely no better.

You looked at the kids.

Then it all went to shit.

“Princess! Are you being a dork and organising books for fun again? Yaknow if you’re bored you can always come into my office and get on your kn-” The boisterous voice of your love echoes as the man himself rounds the corner and finds the kids and you tussling by the table. In a flash, you all turn to him - wide smiles.

He quirks his eyebrows.

“Princess, I saw you an hour ago and I’m pretty sure that a baby bump doesn’t grow that fast in an hour, and thanks to modern contraception and a 6 month old son I’m guessing you’re not pregnant.” He smirks, knowing you’re hiding something, probably covering for the kids.

Before you can react he’s swooped you over his shoulder as the kids all grab your ankles and you become a tug of war between two warring factions.

Satoru eventually wins by teleporting you both to the other side of the desk and sticking his tongue out at the teenagers and shoving his hands under your sweater and taking out the offending lump.

He studies the fabric for a minute, as four people hold their breath.

That’s when he burst out in hysterical laughter.

“Baby, were you covering for these delinquents?” He asks, hand on your cheek.

“Covering?! No! They were helping me! I spilled the coffee!” You say, stuttering.

“No you didn’t princess, you drink mochas, and this is just coffee.” He says, still laughing and you curse how well he knows you.

“I don’t drink coffee!” Itadori adds.

“You don’t need the fucking caffeine.” Megumi nods.

“Well don’t leave your silk designer shirts on the table -” Nobara starts and they’re all speaking at once.

Satoru just smiles and opens his phone, tapping it a few times and then he spins the phone around, showing it to the kids.

“I just bought 5 more of the same shirt. I don’t give a damn about the shirt, seeing you three running around trying to fix it was a years worth of entertainment for me. Truly - high quality comedy.” He laughs, tossing the shirt into the trash near him.

It’s moments like these the ‘Gojo heir’ in him shines through.

“Say sorry to your mom for worrying her.” He says, winking at them all.

“Sorry, mom.” Megumi shrugs.

“I’m sorry, mom!” Yuuji adds.

“Yeah, sorry mom.” Nobara sulks.

“I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!”

#submission #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #dad!gojo

[undeadcannibal]

Hey thought of some cute and funny Headcannons for Ghost, Gaz and Price teaching their s/o on how to make a “proper cup of tea.”

Summary: Ghost, Gaz, and Price show their S/O how to make a ‘proper’ cup of tea.

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Ghost, Gaz, Price

Warnings: None!

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon! I hope I didn’t botch this one. OTL Hopefully y’all enjoy ‘em!  ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost―

Depression was a bitch. Even the simplest things like making food for yourself turned into arduous tasks. Much like today. You were trying to get something - anything, really - into your system just so you didn't feel even worse later on.

Grabbing a mug, you filled it with tap water and set it aside on the counter so you could rummage around through your selection of teas. While you were browsing, you could hear Ghost entering the kitchen thanks his heavy booted footfall, prompting you to glance at him over your shoulder.

"Hey, hon."

Ghost nodded silently as he strode over so he could place a kiss to the top of your head.

"Doin' alright, love?"

Pursing your lips, you hesitated responding before eventually shaking your head. "Not really, no. Having one of those days, I'm sorry..."

He shook his head. "Nothin' to be sorry for."

Looking over towards the counter, he gestured to it silently with a jut of his head. "Making a cuppa?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I was looking through the teas just now."

"What'd you settle on?"

"Mm," You shrugged your shoulders. "Maybe some Earl Grey?"

You watched Ghost squint his eyes down at you, causing you to laugh softly. "What? Don't tell me..."

Ghost's chest puffed up as he took a deep inhale and exhaled slowly as he nodded his head eventually. "No offense, love, but I know when you're not feeling well you tend to throw things into the microwave more."

"I'm 'fraid I can't let you do that. Let me take care of it. I'll make one for myself, too."

Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you nodded your head in agreement anyway.

"Fine, fine." Snorting softly, you'd also comment. "Brits and their tea." Shaking your head for good measure.

Reaching around, Ghost delivered a light pinch to your backside, pleased with himself once he saw you jump and yelp in response. Smacking your smaller fists against his hard chest. "Watch your mouth, brat."

Afterwards, he walked away so he could grab the kettle he brought over just because he preferred it over other methods.

"Here," After he filled the kettle with water, he placed it on the stove top to heat up. "I'll teach you how to make proper tea."

Feeling a little better with Simon's company and attention, you couldn't help but nod and smile at him. "Yes Chef~"

Gaz―

"What tea did you wanna brew again?" Kyle asked as he picked out cups for each of you; his was a royal blue with a union jack on it, yours was molded after a black cat with the tail curled up for the handle.

"Oolong, please."

He nodded and took the loose leaf tea bag out, choosing his own shortly after while you took care of putting water into the kettle, setting it aside for it to boil. While you waited for the water to heat up, you walked over to him, pressing yourself into his back as your arms wrapped him up in a loose hug.

"Doin' alright, dove?"

"Mhm." You nodded against him only to jump shortly afterward when you heard the kettle going off, causing him to laugh at you.

Reluctantly pulling away, you'd reach over to take off the kettle from the heat. Readying it to pour straight into your mug before Kyle called out to you.

"Wait!"

Your eyes widened as you halted in mid-air, whipping your head to look at Gaz like he was a mad man. "What? What's wrong?" You asked in a concerned tone, shaking your head at him.

"You're brewing Oolog tea, right?" He waited for you to nod in confirmation before carrying on. "You've gotta let the water cool for a bit before adding it in. Over-boiled water will make the taste turn a bit off. Also," As he rummaged around in the drawer for something, he'd pull out a thermometer shortly after, smirking at you cheekily. "You've gotta let it brew for two to three minutes."

Staring at him with a deadpan expression, you couldn't help but sigh.

"You've got to be kidding me..."

Kyle shook his head. " 'Fraid not, love. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"It's just tea!" You exclaimed with a chuckle. "I doubt the difference in taste is that noticeable."

"We'll see about that." He'd reply as he took the liberty of checking the temperature of the water.

You ended up just letting him do whatever he wanted so he didn't fuss over how you made tea.

After the two of you were done, you didn't really taste much of a difference than how you'd normally make it, but for his sake, you acted as if it was the best damn cup of tea you'd ever had. Taking pleasure in seeing him light up with pride at his success.

Price―

"How do you take your tea, sweetheart?"

You were currently making breakfast for the two of you while he tended to the tea. In the time you'd spent together, you'd learned that when he wasn't busy with work, he tended to prefer having tea over coffee when he could.

"Um," Scrambling the eggs in the pan, you hesitated in answering. "I guess sweet is fine?"

"Just... sweet?" John asked, turning to look at you with an amused expression on his face.

Meeting him with a glance of your own, you squinted your eyes at him as if daring him to say something. "Yeah? Don't tell me you prefer unsweetened tea." You teased.

John shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. Leaning back against the counter. "No, no. Not sure how they do things in the States, but we've a few ways to make a cuppa here."

"For example," He continued, gesturing vaguely towards the empty cups waiting on the counter top. "The kind I prefer has a bit of milk to it, few bits o' sugar as well."

"Oooh," You laughed softly, stirring the eggs in the pain as you joked with him. "My apologies, Gordon Ramsay, apparently I forgot to brush up on my tea knowledge."

Huffing, he'd glance off to the side with a disbelieving shake of his head. "The nerve of this one..." He mumbled to himself with a smile.

"I'm just saying," He'd begin, pushing himself off the counter so he could step over to stand in front of you. Towering over you with the height difference between the two of you. "Your poor taste buds deserve better, dear."

"Pfft, get out of here!" You laughed, waving at his face with your free hand. Before your hand fell to your side, he captured your wrist in a gentle hold, pulling it towards his face so he could kiss the back of your hand. The rough scrape of his facial hair coaxing a shiver to course up your spine.

"Never~" He spoke against your hand before he began to kiss his way up your arm. Stopping once he was close enough to you he could whisper just loud enough for you to hear. "Let me make you a right cuppa?"

How could you ever say no to that?

#call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #opened mail #anonymous #requests #my writing

[joelscurls]

fallen into place

an epilogue to my feel it in your bones series (part i | part ii)

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.3k

summary: It's the one year anniversary of the day you & Joel met. Your plans to celebrate are soured by poor weather - but Joel doesn't let that ruin your day.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), fluff, smut (allusions to piv sex, but nothing explicit)

a/n: thank you a million times over to everyone who left nice comments on the first two parts of this series; every single one has made me smile like an idiot :') and ty as always to my beta & muse @caffeinated-validation <3 enjoy this lil epilogue!

The windows of the old farmhouse groan, rain pelting the glass and an angry wind jostling the frames. A draft slips in through a gap in the wood, the one Joel’s been meaning to fix, and you reflexively pull the blanket that’s wrapped around your body tighter, snugger. 

Through fogged panes, you can barely make out the sheep in the pasture where they’re huddled together, their bodies distorted by bulbous raindrops. You watch as a couple break off from the herd, blurs of white floating toward the fence line like grounded clouds.

The kettle on the stovetop squeals, quiet at first, then louder, and you pad out of the dining room, into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. The percolator on the nearby counter gurgles away, still working on Joel’s coffee.

The day has been all but thrown away, thanks to the weather.

You and Joel had planned to celebrate your anniversary: one year since meeting under the fluorescent white lights of the lecture hall, all fidgety hands and warm cheeks.

He’d wanted to take you out, back to the lounge you’d gone to that first night, to sip whiskeys again and reminisce.

You’d wanted to cuddle up together on one of the large, leather armchairs and kiss him the way you had then, just with a bit more purpose, this time.

But a tree had fallen at the entrance of Joel’s dead-end road early this morning, the fractured trunk stretching from one shoulder to another. 

The loud thud of it had jolted you from a sound sleep, causing you to seek refuge in Joel’s strong, impregnable arms as he’d continued snoring away.

It was only when he’d stirred a few hours later that he’d called the town and learned they wouldn’t be able to remove it until later today, at the earliest.

And so, you’re stuck at his house — at least for the time being. 

When the percolator seizes, you pour the contents into Joel’s favorite mug, the one Sarah had gotten him as a housewarming gift. The speckling on the dark green ceramic makes it look as if it’s been handmade and fired in a kiln. The front is appropriately adorned with the Vermont state seal. 

You leave the coffee black — his preference — and bring it, along with your tea, into the living room where Joel is splayed across the couch, reading some book about the history of homesteading. 

You’re quiet when you enter. It gives you the opportunity to marvel at his concentrated face, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he scans the pages. He traces under the words with his thumb, so as not to inadvertently lose his place.

He finally notices you when you sink into the cushion by his feet and place his mug down on the coffee table in front of him. He swings his legs around and sits upright to make more room for you. 

“Thanks, baby,” he says, dog-earing the page he’s on and setting the book down on the arm of the couch. 

He buries a gracious kiss in your hair and reaches for the coffee, not bothering to let it cool before he takes his first sip. He hisses. Curses under his breath. 

You shake your head in amusement as you settle into plush upholstery, your cup still steaming away on the table. 

Joel grunts. He puts the mug back down in defeat and resumes reading

You decide to sift through your emails. You grab your laptop from your nearby work bag and settle back into the couch with it propped atop your knees. 

You open your inbox. A new message from your well-intentioned, but neurotic colleague sits at the very top, received 20 minutes ago. She’s requesting any final advice for facilitating a fun and informative Open House, since you aren’t volunteering at Homecoming this year. 

You don’t have any fresh insight to provide, so you just copy and paste the last email you sent to her, which she’d never responded to, and add a see below to the top of the message.

Most of the remaining unread emails are from students, a few begging for an extension on their midterm that’s due Monday, another asking how to access their assigned reading for the nth time.

You check to make sure the link to said reading in the syllabus is still working. It is.

A garbled, frustrated sort of noise forms at the bottom of your throat. Joel looks up from his book. Cocks a brow at you in silent question: you okay?

You groan. “Sorry, I’m fine. Just stressed. Annoyed. I can’t believe I’m checking emails right now when we’re supposed to be celebrating.” 

He leans forward. Presses the laptop shut before you can protest. “Then stop,” he offers. 

Joel is a perceptive person, more so than most people give him credit for. His usual persona, the one everyone else sees, characterized by indifferent grumbles and petulant grimaces, is a facade. Because in truth, he’s observant. Caring. He can read you better than the book in his lap with just a scan of his eyes.

He knows just what you need at all times. And right now, he can tell you need to relax.

“Darlin’,” he starts. Waits until you look at him. Until your muscles slacken and he knows you’re listening. 

“I know this isn't ideal. But we’re gonna make the best of it, okay?” 

You nod. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” You watch him think for a moment, gaze fixed absently on the far corner of the room. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a bath. Put on one ‘a those cucumber things-” 

“A face mask?”

“Yeah, that. And you’re gonna stay upstairs until I tell you to come down. Alright?” 

You want to crack some wise remark about feeling like Rapunzel. But a bath sounds good right now. Great, actually. So you nod again. Say, “okay”. 

“Okay,” he repeats. “Go relax, babygirl.”

You bring your untouched cup of tea with you. It rests on the windowsill next to the clawfoot tub as you wait for the basin to fill with water. You undress, apply a few squeezes of the facemask you keep stashed at the back of Joel’s medicine cabinet just in case. Then you get into the bath, sighing immediately at the feel of warm water lapping at your skin. 

You sink into it, let your head rest against porcelain as your eyes fall shut. 

You stay there until your fingers prune and sweat begins to bead on your forehead. When you stand, the water draining at your feet, you glance out the window and notice that the rain has let up, at least enough that you can actually see the pasture below. 

Joel is there, you realize, his stocky figure leaning against the fence, observing the sheep as they graze. He remains there for a few minutes, and you watch, entranced by him even from a distance.  Water drip-drip-drips off of your body and circles the drain.

When he retreats back toward the house, you step out of the bath. The floor below you vibrates as you towel yourself off, the way it does whenever the front door shuts. You hear the clomp of Joel’s boots against the hardwood as he makes his way inside.

He doesn’t come up. Which means you can’t come down yet, according to his instructions. So you wash your facemask off before wrapping yourself up in Joel’s bathrobe, the bottom hem grazing the floor as you saunter into his room and flop down onto the bed. 

You spend the next hour scrolling mindlessly on your phone, bookmarking recipes that look appetizing slash easy, and cute cat videos to show Joel. You figure if you show him enough, he’ll break and get himself one. 

You need a barncat, you’d told him. You can’t have a barn without a barncat. 

He’d questioned your logic. But he hadn’t said no, not explicitly, anyway.

You refresh your feed for what must be the tenth time this afternoon. Another video of a cat. This one tries to jump onto the top of the fridge from its place on the floor and misses by a longshot. Your laughter fizzles quickly. You’re getting bored. 

You lug yourself off the bed with an exaggerated huff and tiptoe out of Joel’s room to the top of the stairs. He’s playing music, the faint notes of a Johnny Cash song filtering up the balustrade. The smell of garlic follows on its heels, wafting directly into your nostrils and your stomach growls. He’s cooking. 

Joel isn’t a chef by any means. But ever since moving to Vermont, he’s really embraced farm life, sourcing eggs from a neighbor and milk from another. You’d even gotten him a book full of farm-to-table recipes for his birthday, and he’s cracked into it more than once already.

The thought of him referencing it right now to prepare an anniversary dinner for you makes you swoon. Suddenly, you’re very impatient. 

“Can I come down yet?,” you call out. 

You’re not sure if Joel will hear you over the music. But he appears at the bottom of the stairs less than ten seconds later, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. It’s marked with an orange, splotchy stain.

“Nice robe,” he smirks. Leans against the railing. “Two minutes, okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your heart rate quickening at the sight of him looking so domestic. “I’ll go get changed and come down.” 

“Or you could just keep that on,” he drawls. “Look good in my clothes.”

Warmth blooms at the base of your neck. 

“Wait,” you say. “Stay there.”

You feel his eyes on you as you turn and slink down the hall, back to his room. 

You change out of the robe, into one of his flannels and a pair of sleep shorts that you’d stuffed at the bottom of your overnight bag. Then you return to the top of the stairs. 

Joel groans when he sees you. “Get down here,” he growls. You feign innocence, toying with the buttons on his shirt. 

He tracks you like a wolf as you descend, his love for you in his clothes visible by the growing bulge in his pants. You move to grope him when you reach the bottom step and he stops you with a large hand wrapped loosely around your wrist. 

“Dinner,” he reminds you. His voice comes out pained, like if he hadn’t been slaving away in the kitchen for the past hour, he wouldn’t be so adamant. 

“Wait here for a sec,” he says. He adjusts himself and disappears into the kitchen. There’s a series of worrying clangs on the other side of the wall. You hear one of the burners on the stove click off. 

You stand patiently, soundtracked by the sounds of footsteps and clattering dishware. 

And then Joel reappears, outstretching a hand. You take it. Follow him.

It’s dark in the house, the sun having set by now. You try your best not to trip over your own feet and wonder why Joel hasn’t turned any lights on. 

Your question is answered sooner than you can voice it, when you round the corner to the dining room and see what he’s done.

He’s gone all out, two small candles lit at the center of the table next to a bouquet of wildflowers from the edge of his property, arranged in a clear glass vase. On either placemat are steaming plates of pasta, garnished with tomato sauce and fresh basil. You’re practically drooling as you sit down opposite him.

And then there’s the bottle of wine, red, label turned away from you. You twist it around. The name is illegible in the dim candlelight. 

Joel clears his throat. Takes your hand in his on the tabletop. 

“It’s uh – it’s the same one I brought to your apartment that time. The first time.” 

You blink hard. Your brain works to catch up with what he’s just said.

And then you’re all but leaping across the table, catching him in an earnest kiss. 

“Joel,” you say, gesturing to the plates, the wine, the candles. “This is amazing.”

You swear you catch him blush. It’s difficult to tell in the dark.

“‘Ts nothin’,” he retorts. “Less than you deserve. I know you were lookin’ forward to celebratin’ properly.” 

“Hey,” you squeeze his hand. “This is perfect. Better than perfect.” 

Now you know he’s blushing. He attempts to cover it up by bringing the bottle in front of his face, pouring you both a glass.

Joel’s pasta is delicious. You devour it, have to stop yourself from licking the plate clean when you’re done. After dinner, you retreat to the living room where Joel throws a few fresh logs on the hearth and lights it.

He tires quickly of his flannel cloaking your body, and plucks the buttons open one by one until you’re on display for him. Then he lays you down by the roaring fire and makes love to you, heat from the flames licking at your exposed chest as he takes you apart.

You’ve never felt so loved. 

It dawns on you in the afterglow, heart rabbiting in your chest and thighs soaked with arousal — Joel is everything —  your past year, your present, your forever. An immense contentedness settles in you, deep in your being. Unshakable; impenetrable.

As Joel lays next to you, stroking calloused fingers lazily along the length of your arm, forehead shiny with sweat, you sigh. 

“What is it, darlin?,” he asks. 

“Nothing,” you say. “Just feel really lucky.” 

“Nah,” he whispers. He caresses the curve of your jaw gently, like he thinks you’ll break if he’s any less tender. Like he’s forgetting the way his body just ravaged yours. “I’m the lucky one.”

You let him have this one — at least on the outside. Inside, you’re making a list of all the ways Joel has sweetened your life: his kind soul, his expert touch, his deep, unwavering love for you. You add to it until the slowing of his heart and his loosened grip on your face distract you.

And then you lose count.

end notes: ty for reading! please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you liked it <3 til next time!

series tag list:  @anoverwhelmingdin, @joelalorian, @lol-im-done, @bensonispunk, @sereindreams, @survivingandenduring, @stevie75, @vee-bees-blog, @brittmb115, @cassiopeia, @bbyanarchist, @janaispunk, @barbellpedro

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel x reader #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #fiiyb

[tokidokitokyo]

ことわざ 17/?

ことわざ are Japanese proverbs, and I have listed some basic proverbs, their equivalents in English, and a rough translation of the meanings of the Japanese phrase.

There is a test for ことわざ called the ことわざ能力検定 (ことわざのうりょくけんてい) and these are some of the phrases that appear in level 9 or 9級 (10 being the lowest level). For the time being, try one or two of these out the next time you speak with a native Japanese speaker!

ことわざ (こと検9級): 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 More ことわざ (こと検10級): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

眉を顰める

まゆをひそめる

to furrow your brow

furrow your brow

緑の黒髪

みどりのくろかみ

lustrous black hair

black hair with a greenish sheen

身に染みる

みにしみる

to be deeply moved; to have wind/cold pierce the body

a feeling that permeates the body

身につまされる

みにつまされる

to be touched by another's plight

feel a pinch of guilt on your body

身の毛がよだつ

みのけがよだつ

hair-raising; spine-tingling

have your body's hair stand up in fear or from cold

耳が痛い

みみがいたい

hitting close to home

accurate criticism that is painful to the ear

耳が早い

みみがはやい

in the know

ears are quick to receive new information

耳に入れる

みみにいれる

to inform

put into someone's ear

耳に胼胝ができる

みみにたこができる

to hear ad nauseum

told something so much it creates calluses in your ears

耳に付く

みみにつく

irritating or annoying (sound)

a sound that sticks in the ear

耳寄りな話

みみよりなはなし

a topic of interest

talk that makes ears approach

耳を疑う

みみをうたがう

to doubt your own ears

doubt your ears

耳を貸す

みみをかす

to lend an ear

lend an ear

耳を傾ける

みみをかたむける

to listen closely

tilt your ear over to listen

耳を澄ます

みみをすます

to focus your attention (and listen)

clear out your ears

耳を揃える

みみをそろえる

to get the money together (to pay a debt)

arrange the ears (edges) of your coins

身を入れる

みをいれる

to give it your all

put in your whole body

身を切られる思い

みをきられるおもい

heartrending

a thought that cuts your body

身を削る

みをけずる

to work yourself sick

whittle away your body with work

身を粉にする

みをこにする

to work hard without complaint

work your body into powder

身を立てる

みをたてる

to make something of yourself; to make it on your own

raise up your body

胸が痛む

むねがいたむ

to feel great sympathy

chest in pain

胸が一杯になる

むねがいっぱいになる

to be overcome with emotion

chest like a cupful of joy or sadness

胸が躍る

むねがおどる

excited; psyched up

chest dancing with joy or in anticipation

胸が騒ぐ

むねがさわぐ

to feel uneasy

chest disturbing you with feeling something bad is going to happen

胸がすく

むねがすく

to be relaxed, worry-free

chest clear of worry

胸が詰まる

むねがつまる

to feel uneasy

chest stuffed with sadness or worry

胸に刻む

むねにきざむ

to take something to heart

engrave on your chest

胸を痛める

むねをいためる

to cause someone emotional distress

cause pain in another's chest

胸を打つ

むねをうつ

to touch someone's heart

strike someone's chest

胸を借りる

むねをかりる

to train with a superior

in sumo, to borrow someone's chest is to have the honor of training with them

胸を撫で下ろす

むねをなでおろす

to let out a sigh of relief

rub down your chest and let go of worries

胸を膨らませる

むねをふくらませる

to be wide-eyed and full of hope

inflate your chest with hope or joy

目から鱗が落ちる

めからうろこがおちる

to have the scales fall from your eyes

to have the scales fall from your eyes

目から鼻へ抜ける

めからはなへぬける

sharp as a tack

from a story where a craftsman enters the eye of a Buddha statue to affix the eye from inside. since he’s trapped he has the brilliant idea to escape through the nose of the statue.

目から火が出る

めからひがでる

to see stars

sparks coming out of your eyes

目が利く

めがきく

to be discerning

effective eyes

目が肥える

めがこえる

to be discerning

eyes grown fat with experience and knowledge

目頭が熱くなる

めがしらがあつくなる

to tear up with emotion

eyes and head warm with emotion

目が高い

めがたかい

to be highly discerning

so learned, it's as if your eyes are surveying from high above

目が無い

めがない

① to have no eye for something; ② to lose objectivity

① have no eye for something; ② no eye for, or blind to, reality

目が回る

めがまわる

to be extremely busy

so busy your eyes are spinning

目くじらを立てる

めくじらをたてる

to needlessly nitpick

raise up the speck in the corner of someone's eye for all to see

目糞鼻糞を笑う

めくそはなくそをわらう

the pot calling the kettle black

eye crud laughing at snot

目と鼻の先

めとはなのさき

extremely close together

as close as the space before your eye and nose

目に余る

めにあまる

to be unforgivable, unable to be overlooked

too much for your eyes to handle

目に物見せる

めにものみせる

to teach someone a lesson; to show someone what's what

show something before someone's eyes

目の色を変える

めのいろをかえる

to put on your game face

change the color of your eyes to indicate seriousness or anger

目の上の瘤

めのうえのこぶ

a thorn in your side; a pain in the butt

a person whose existence is like a lump above your eye

目の黒いうち

めのくろいうち

while you still live; while you still draw breath

while your eyes are still black (grey/white pupils indicate death)

目の毒

めのどく

something you really don't need to see right now

poison for the eyes because it will trigger craving/desire or cause discomfort

目も当てられない

めもあてられない

a sight that is too much to bear

so horrible, eyes can't hold witness to it

目もくれない

めもくれない

to completely ignore

not give an eye (attention) to something

目を疑う

めをうたがう

to not be able to believe your own eyes

doubt your eyes

目を奪われる

めをうばわれる

to be captivated

have your sight stolen and held captive by something

目を覆う

めをおおう

to cover your eyes

cover your eyes in fear

目を掛ける

めをかける

to show favoritism

place eyes upon, watch over someone

目を配る

めをくばる

to keep an eye on

distribute your gaze around the area

目を皿のようにする

めをさらのようにする

to widen one’s eyes in shock

make your eyes like plates

目を白黒させる

めをしろくろさせる

to be shocked and flustered

eyes darting so fast they look white and black

目を付ける

めをつける

to fix your gaze upon something

attach your eyes

目を盗む

めをぬすむ

to do something in secret

steal someone's eyes, act outside their vision

目を光らせる

めをひからせる

to keep careful watch

shine your gaze upon someone/something

目を引く

めをひく

to draw attention; to create a distraction

pull someone's gaze

目を細める

めをほそめる

to smile warmly

smile so that your eyes narrow

目を丸くする

めをまるくする

to open your eyes wide in shock

make your eyes round

目を見張る

めをみはる

to be impressed or moved emotionally

eyes open wide in pleasant surprise

目を剥く

めをむく

to have eyes wide in shock or anger

eyes peeled wide open

#日本語 #japanese #japanese language #japanese langblr #langblr #studyblr #ことわざ #japanese proverbs #こと検9級 #ま #ま～も #tokidokitokyo #tdtstudy

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

For drabble ideas: MQF and SQH feat. rare medicinal plants.

(I feel like SQH doesn't know it but on MQF's side they're totally friends)

Hope you like this one, thank you for your hard work! ^-^

I LOVE THIS. and i liked it so much that i didnt answer for like 3 weeks im s o so r r y. HOWEVER it is also twice as long as my usual prompt fills so i hope you enjoy pt 1

—

As the Lord of Qian Cao Peak, there are few things which cause Mu Qingfang to make anything like a ‘walk of shame’ across his peak. He is an esteemed scholar, a competent fighter, and a doctor who is considered by many to work miracles. People come to him to solve their problems, and when he must consult his sect siblings, it is with the self-assured confidence of an expert in one field seeking the wisdom of an expert in another.

It is with a heavy heart that he is forced to trudge across Qian Cao, over the rainbow bridge, through Ku Xing Peak, around Xian Xu Peak, and up to An Ding to knock at the Peak Lord’s door in the middle of the night. 

Shang Qinghua answers on the second knock. He appears in the doorway, backlit by the lanterns behind him, accompanied by a wave of cool air and an anxious smile. The man is still fully dressed, guan in place and ink turning his fingers black and smudging darkly across his jaw. No—a bruise, blooming purple. Mu Qingfang’s hands itch to check it, but instead he folds his hands in a shallow bow as Shang Qinghua’s eyebrows go up at the sight of him. 

“Shang-shixiong, this one apologized for disturbing you so late.” 

“Mu-shidi! A pleasant surprise. Don’t worry about it, there’s no way I would be asleep at this time. I thought you were gonna be one of my disciples telling me something was unexpectedly on fire, so really, this is an improvement. What can I do for you?” 

Mu Qingfang sighs. He really hates doing this.

“I’m afraid I must ask your expertise on a sensitive matter.” 

“Oh—? Ooooh. One of those nights, huh? Come on in.” 

Shang Qinghua steps aside, waving lazily over his shoulder for Mu Qingfang to follow him. He calls out, facing his sitting room, 

“Make yourself at home, Shidi. Sorry about the mess, you can push some scrolls over if you need to.” 

Mu Qingfang steps into the front room, taking in the familiar papers, scrolls, and cushions scattered around the floor, the desk, the shelves… he sees one booklet poking out of a plant pot. A Snow Lion Bush, red berries gleaming and viny tendrils swaying as if in an invisible breeze—maybe that is what’s responsible for the unusually cool temperatures Shang Qinghua always seems to keep his rooms at. Mu Qingfang almost wishes he’d worn an extra layer. 

Shang Qinghua starts making tea, and Mu Qingfang moves to take the kettle from his hands.

“Please, allow me. I’m the one who is disturbing you so late.” Best to step in before they both end up sipping bitter tea. 

Shang Qinghua chuckles and raises his hands in defeat, stepping away to ease himself down at his overflowing desk. Mu Qingfang makes a note—stiff, moving gingerly. Fatigue, muscle strain, or an injury he’s avoiding aggravating? He roots around Shang Qinghua’s cabinets until he locates slightly stale dried danshen and curcumin, makes a note to bring more by later as a thank you. 

“So… who’s the lucky victim?” Shang Qinghua asks. 

Mu Qingfang nudges some scrolls aside with his foot and sits in front of the man’s desk, pushing more paperwork aside to set down the pot and two cups of tea with Shang Qinghua’s consenting hand-wave. 

“You know I can’t tell you that, Shixiong.” 

“Ah I know, I know. Can’t blame me for asking. I really want it to be that one guy from Qiong Ding who keeps denying my funding requests for—anyways, it doesn’t matter. What are you looking for, exactly?” 

Mu Qingfang knocks his tea back like downing a cup of wine. “I have two victims of a spring plant. Contact based—their clothes were coated in an opalescent pink powder, fine grained. I spoke with them both individually. One described it as ‘vine like,’ the other ‘bush like.’ Both said the flowers were white and pink, with green stems and leaves and a darker pink tear drop shaped metal emerging from a soft, fur-like white bud.”

“Ahh, ‘Drawstring pulled tight upon sweet fragrance pent within’1?” Shang Qinghua asks, quoting something Mu Qingfang doesn’t recognize. He tilts his head, and Shang Qinghua waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. Those sound familiar! Should I assume the sect members in question are, ah, feeling some effect?” 

“They have refused the… ordinary methods of relief from a trained service worker, myself, each other, and any other member of the sect who might be asked. One of them has a fever that’s making them hallucinate, and the other has developed an unusual rash.” 

TBC...

1王文英 (Wáng Wényīng) Poems of a Hundred Flowers: number 70 - Purse Peony

玲珑奇巧涎欲滴

#svsss #sqh #mqf #shang qinghua #mu qingfang #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #mqf/sqh #sex pollen #Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky's Plot Devices #an ding peak #qian cao peak #wine drunk drabbles #burywrites.pdf #prompts #askbox #my fics #my writing

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

This is like.... The peak of the toxic zutara everyone talks about like it's too cliche to be real.

• Username : oedipus kataang

• a ZK complaining about kataang having rape fics like- need i say more?

• Saying shippers only care about her if she births aang's babies

Like nichya, this was literally handcrafted for you to roast lmao.

Okay, SO MUCH incorrect stuff.

For starters, not only is Kataang not a mom/son ship, Katara doesn't see herself as his mother, and he doesn't think of her as his mom (and no, him acknowledging she has motherly traits/is the "mom friend" is not the same as thinking of her as a genuine parental figure in his life) so it makes no sense to pretend there's an Oedipus Complex going on.

That claim also ignores that the Oedipus Complex isn't just about excessive attachment (not necessarely attraction) towards the mom, but also a TON of rage towards the father, which leads to, worsens or causes them to compete for the mom. Aang's father figure is Gyatso, who never met Katara and would NEVER make her a "co-parent" since the main thing we're told about him is that he thinks kids should be allowed to act like kids.

(Sidenote: Poor Oedipus, man. He fled his home to AVOID killing his dad and marrying his mom - that he didn't know had adopted him. And in doing that set the prophecy in motion because HE DIDN'T KNOW the guy he killed was his dad and the woman he fell for was his mom. Oedipus did not have an Oedipus Complex so it's a REALLY stupid name and that legit angers my autistic brain to insane degrees).

For the "Kataang has rape fics" COME ON, Zutara only exists because of non-con smut, and two of the most popular tropes in Zutara fics are Katara being forced into an arragend marriage with Zuko so the Fire Nation has claim to the Southern Water Tribe or flat out being his slave. This isn't even just the pot calling the kettle black, this the pot calling a fluffy white cloud black.

(Sidenote 2: those tropes are fine by the way, as long as the writer isn't under the delusion that it'd be okay in real life, or has the balls to criticize other people for also being kinky)

And again, THE IRONY of zutarians insisting Kataang fans only care about her giving Aang airbender babies, when Zutarians are infamous for disregarding EVERYTHING about Katara's character that doesn't connect to Zuko (see them trying to make bloodbending her whole personality just because she used in the Southern Raiders, trying to claim her feeling empathy for that Fire Nation village means she wants to LIVE in the Fire Nation, refusing to accept she doesn't want to be queen especially not of the nation that destroyed hers, etc).

Also I NEVER saw a Kataang fan hate on Katara for rejecting Aang. I'm not saying it never happened (god knows this fandom has all kinds of hateful people in it) but to pretend it's some wide-spread problem is ridiculous and dishonest.

#anti zutara #pro kataang

[coffehbeans]

Gt WAC Day 23

"A story with a nonhuman/ monstrous character"

THIS, this was a challenge to write ahsushus I'm so nervous cause it took me SO long and as per usual I'm still unsure about it.

This story is based on a dream I had a month ago, I was writing it since then so i could post it on day 23 of gtwac. So yep, new character. It's different from what I've wrote so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Depending on the reception of this story I will continue it, but fair warning that it'll not be a happy one (IF I continue it).

I'm not sure if I'll rate this chapter in particular as above PG-13, but general warning for overall spooky, unsettling vibes.

Enjoy!

........................................................................................

Edward Becker has not seen his wife in seven years.

People called him crazy for waiting for her return. "She's done for", someone mentioned. "Why don't you find another one?", someone suggested, all falling in deaf ears as every single day, he'd go back from work, sit by the porch, and wait for her until the sun went down. A useless effort, as they said, a delusional hope, or the sign of going mad. But for Edward, it was his strength. The only support for his failed attempts at finding her. His last pillar of sanity that made him get up every morning and wait for her until nightfall. His wife would come back, like she always did. She would come back to his open arms, embrace him gently like she used to, cover him with kisses as he pulled her close. They would giggle and enter their home, enjoy a nice meal they cooked together, talking about their day during dinner, about plans for rebuilding their house, plans for a new job he wanted to get, plans about their future children. When night falls, they would sleep holding each other tight, relishing in their shared warmth.

All he had to do was wait for her by the porch.

...

One day, she did comeback.

It was past midnight. So dark and cold outside, most animals have gone to sleep, making the woods around his remote home dead silent. The cows and chickens of his small farm uttered no sound as they slept, and the wind billowed the wheat fields outside, his plain wooden house colored pitch black by the late-night sky. It was a weathered home, well kept indoors but in need of repairs, with ripped, dingy furniture and leaks on the roof. It was protected by a measly three-feet-tall fence that threatened to fall apart, and over the backyard, where the overgrown grass was blown by the wind, laid a simple wooden shed meant for storing farming equipment. Tossing and turning on his bed, Edward sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping on his face as anxiety threatened to eat him whole. He sighed, holding his face in his trembling hands, and letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't fall asleep in those nights, where the memory of Cordelia haunted his mind in his dreams, ones where she wore desperate expressions as she's dragged away from him by detached, withered hands, and no matter how much he ran, he didn't reach her. Nightmares where he found her dead body, pale and laying limp, lifeless eyes staring at him. Nightmares where he found her hurt, bleeding and beaten up, face covered by bruises ­– in most nights, those visions would plague him.

With a shiver, Edward got up, lighting up the oil lantern. He trudged for the kitchen, on his way to do the same as usual: put some water over the wood burning stove, boil it, try this new tea his friend had brought for him, and drink it aimlessly, hoping in vain for sleep to come back.

He sluggishly put wood pieces inside the firebox, reaching a hand for the lighter on the table. A flicker, two, and the fire was lit. He put the kettle over the stove with a clank, and stared at it blankly, waiting for bubbles to form. The house was pitch black, only the flickering flames of the stove and the lamp’s dim glow illuminated the room.

A loud sizzling of the kettle snapped Edward out of his torpor as the water boiled. He picked the hot handle, feeling its heat burning his skin, lifted it from the fire and — THUMP. A loud thud by the window behind him sent him jumping, fumbling with the kettle in his hands, heartbeat skyrocketing. He banged it on the table. Hot droplets prickled his hand. He turned around with rapid breaths. A blurred shadow dashed away from the window, sending a cold chill down his spine, the wind howling and heavy thuds echoing outside the house’s walls. Rhythmical and constant. Pounding on the ground. Edward sucked in a breath, head ringing against his skull. He stomped towards the cabinet containing his shotgun. There were thieves? In the middle of the night? Were they finally coming to steal a poor and mad man's house? He wouldn't allow it.

He can’t die yet. Not until Cordelia comes back to him.

Loading the gun with precise clicks, Edward aimed it at the window, darting his aim from window to window until he reached the door, the last place he heard the strange sound. With trembling hands over the trigger, his eyes focused on an invisible target. He held his breath, standing still. Not a single sound. Ears trained on any disturbance. THUMP. THUMP. A shadow passed by the window to his right. BANG!

He twisted his body and shot, missing the shadow by an inch.

"W-who's there!?" He shouted in a trepid tone.

No answer. Not even a sound. Maybe the sound of breathing. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell if it was someone's breathing or his own.

The “sshhhs” and “thuds” echoed around him, heading towards the backyard. Edward adjusted the position of the gun in his arms.

He took a deep breath.

Edward ran to the back door and slammed it open with a kick, pointing the trembling shotgun towards the field. The sky was pitch-black outside, engulfing the horizon with its inky tint, and the stars didn't dare approach the darkness. The faint moonlight was partially obscured by the clouds, its glow too weak to lighten the outdoors. He huffed, feeling the weight of his gun, and headed further into the backyard with measured steps. His shoes crunched the grass below, the dry air amplifying the sound of his stride. Deadly silence filled the field. A puff of smoke left his nostrils as warm exhale met with the frigid air. Tightening the grip around the gun, he aimed it at the decrepit shed. Waiting for movement. Eyes trained forward. The dark blur of a large silhouette shifted behind it.

BANG.

He shot. Once. Twice. The sound of the bullets making his ears ring, metal creating holes in the aged wood. A loud, high-pitched, and definitely human scream cried behind it.

He stopped shooting, heart leaping to his throat. A weight plunked in his insides, making him loose the tight grip on his gun. Behind the shed, he heard it. A gasp. A whimper. A sob. Clearly feminine. Edward lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as the cries made a lump form inside his throat. A trick to let his guard down? A trap? It must be a trick for sure. No way an innocent person would show up in the middle of the night. No, there's no way. Goosebumps trailed down his back as the cries reached his ears. Why was there even someonehere?

The sobbing got louder, echoing in the cold, dark night. He shivered when the shrill voice reverberated in his ears, an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach at the thought he could have shot an innocent woman.

"Who... Who's there?" He repeated, cautious this time, as if talking to a cowering animal.

The sobs dwindled little by little. He didn't dare move. The figure was hidden behind the shed, not even the faint moonlight giving a glimpse of its appearance.

Finally, he heard it: that feminine voice. Frail, faint, and so utterly scared.

Its familiarity so potent, something clogged in his throat.

"... Ed..."

That voice. The voice he waited for so many years by the porch. The voice he dreamed of in his sleep. Screaming. Crying for help. Calling for his name.

"... Edward..."

The same voice that recited sweet words of so much care, so much love and adoration to him every day. The voice that followed a gentle embrace, the smell of perfume and a prolonged kiss. The same voice that said "I do" by the altar over 12 years ago, that whispered close to his ear, giggling with joy. The voice that chatted to him relentlessly, which he couldn't get enough of. The voice that laughed, cried, shouted, only to say sweet words of gentle love again. That melodic yet striking voice. Edward didn't notice the tears falling from his face. Didn't notice the gun falling to the ground. Didn't notice his feet moving on his own, towards the shed, towards the faint possibility that she was behind it. He stumbled faster towards it, raising a trembling hand. "C-Cordelia?!" "NO! DON'T COME CLOSER!" The powerful shout made him stop dead on his tracks, ears complaining from its sheer force. He never heard his wife sound so... Desperate. In panic. "... H-honey...?" "Pl-please... D-don't come closer yet." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, but shaking with trepidation.

  "W-what's wrong...? Did I –"

Then he remembered it. The gun. The shootings. The fact he almost killed his own wife. His heart sank, face turning pale, his voice hoarse.

"Oh God. It's - it's really you, it was you and I almost, I-I a-almost... A-are you hurt? Are you bleeding? I –"

Edward took more shaking steps towards it, the nightmare of his dead wife still clear in his mind.

"NO!" - He stopped again. - "I-I'm fine! I'm not hurt, you d-didn’t hit me."

Edward covered his face with a hand and stopped himself from wanting to vomit.

"Cordelia I'm- ... I-I'm so, so sorry I thought it was a thief, I..."

He lowered his head, and took a shaky breath.

"Am I going crazy? Is – is it r-really you?! I, I waited for s-so long – I thought you were dead —!"

Tears poured desperately from Edward's eyes, his attempts to stop his sobs coming in vain. He hiccupped under his cries, breathing rapidly as reality came crashing down and years of restrained emotion leaked out. The voice sounded just like her. The voice could really be her.

‘Then, if it’s her, why is she hiding?’

"Please, d-dear, if it's really you..." - he whispered, his voice croaky and dry. Tears continued to fall.

"Please let me see you..." The shed grew eerily silent. Cold air made him quiver. A silent second spread throughout the night, the sounds of his sobs echoing through the pitch-black darkness. "I... I can't."

She whispered back in a shaky voice. Unsure. Afraid. Edward raised his head, glancing to the fallen gun on the grass, a realization hitting deep inside his stomach. "Are you scared of me...?" A pause. He heard her sucking in a breath. A long, deep exhale was carried by the wind. Her voice faint and trembling. "N-no... Dear, I... I'm not scared of you." The shed's wood creaked, like something was gripping it and scratching it down. "...I'm scared of myself." Edward's guilty expression changed to confusion. He furrowed his brows. A part of him wanted to giggle. His adorable wife, scared of herself? Why? She always had some impatience and anger she was discontent about, but even so... That made no sense. The way she acted, hiding from him, made no sense. Another part of Edward felt an odd sense of dread. As if something was not right. "Honey, why are you hiding from me? I... I waited for so long... I-I searched everywhere for you, and when I couldn't find anything, I waited. And when I couldn't wait anymore, I prayed. I hoped. I-I never paid attention to what the others said, even if they called me crazy." He took a step towards the shed. She sucked in a breath. Edward didn't notice more tears started to pour from his face. "And it's you, r-right? It's you who's behind here, right? Alive and well? Please dear... Don't let me think I've gone crazy!" He took another step closer. Then another. She whimpered behind the decrepit barn. Edward's vision was blurry from his own tears, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to see her, even if it wasn't true. Even if he died.

Gosh, he just wanted to see her.

"Honey, DON'T!" The sheer loudness of her rigid voice made him stop dead on his tracks again. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Cordelia interrupted him.

"It's n-not... It's not that I'm not alive and well, Edward..." "So why are y-"

"...I-it's that I don't know what I am anymore..." He paused. That uneasy sense of dread sank heavier inside him. "What...? Cordelia, what do you mean-" "If I," – She interrupted, taking a deep breath. – "If I really come out of this shed, Will you promise, promise me that you will not run?" A shiver ran down his spine. Heartbeat rocked harder against his chest. Something's not right. Something's clearly not right. But Edward planted his feet firmly on the ground. It was his wife's voice. He lost her seven years ago. He doesn't know what happened to her in that time. She could be different from how she looked back then, hurt and bruised from whatever abuse they inflicted on her. Rage bubbled up inside him. Whoever did anything to her, he would kill them in cold blood. They would pay for taking her away from him. Being hurt and disfigured by her captors… That was probably what Cordelia meant.

There was no need for him to feel so nervous.

"You know I love you, dear... No matter what. You know I'd never run away from you... So why would you even ask that?"

"Please, Edward." She said louder than he expected. Desperate. Too desperate. "Please promise you won't run." The moonlight cast over the shed, the little gaps between the wooden plates showing a faint shadow behind it. A hulking mass, piled up like a bundle of hay, a head peeking out of the lump as if there was no body attached to it. Edward's eyes widened, heart drumming faster in his chest. Cold sweat scurried down his forehead. 'What is that?' And yet, he couldn't deny the pleading voice of his wife, sounding exactly as she did seven years ago. It couldn't possibly not be her. Something grave must have happened when she was gone, and that's why she was so afraid. Yes, that's most likely it.

So Edward gulped his nervousness down, and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Honey... I promise I won't run away from you... I would never run away from you."

A light, quiet wail whispered in the cold night, slowly dwindling down. A sniff sounded behind the shed. A long inhale and exhale belonging to powerful lungs.

Silence.

"... Alright."

And the heavy sound of something dragging over the earth.

A form encased in shadow peeked from the wooden walls over fourteen feet above him. Edward took a while to notice the large silhouette was a head. His wife's head. It was truly, truly her! Looking just like he remembered and – pale. So sickeningly pale. A dark and somber expression covered her face. Her eyes were baggy and downcast, white lips trembling. But more importantly, he couldn't understand why she has so high up.

"P-please..." - she uttered, almost to herself. - Please don't run..." Gargantuan claws appeared next to her, black, sharp nails curling over the creaking wood. A long, bony hand covered by charcoal scales. His wife pressed her eyes firmly shut. Edward took a step back, his mouth going dry. The sinking feeling in his stomach cut deeper. And then he saw why she was so high up.

The rest of her appeared under the pale moonlight, her form triple of a human size. A gigantic torso loomed over him like a small tree, covering him in her shadow. She wore nothing on her, long, mahogany hair covering her chest.

Then he looked down.

Black and yellow scales jutted out of her skin, covering her lower half, legs attached together in a single, cylindrical body that twitched and writhed as it came closer. The thick tail uncoiled behind the shed, extending further and further to Edward's right, so much so it could envelop around him if it moved. With loud thumps, Cordelia's massive form fell on the ground, hair obscuring her downcast face. Black talons gripped the soil as she pushed herself forward. Rough and coarse scales scraping against the earth as the hulking, round tail crunched the grass and lugged over it like a corpse dragging on the dirt. Rocks broke with a sickening "crunch" under its weight.

Edward's face contorted in shock. He took one, two steps back, eyes widening in horror, shaken to the core as his heart jumped in his throat. Pounding harder against his ribcage.

It was a gargantuan something, half snake, half something that resembled human. Resembled his wife. He mumbled incomprehensibly. Primal fear took over him. A crying, shaky voice resounded from the creature's mouth. A clawed hand the size of his head reaching out to him. "P-please... Edward..." He ran. He screamed bloody murder and dashed back towards his house, hearing it holler back his name. Tears fell from his eyes, desperation taking hold of his body. A deafening sound of thumps and scratches came from behind him, growing closer, coming for him.

"WAIT–!" Tha thing can’t be his wife. Whatever it was it could not be his wife. It shouldn't be his wife. It shouldn't be human. He ran through the house's corridors, left became right and up became down and the crunches behind him grew louder and louder and he had to hide, he had to hide but there was nothing in his room aside from the cold, old bed so he bolted, ran and ducked under it, mumbling shaky prayers, begging to heavens for his life. Begging that he was hallucinating. To not die to someone who looked so much like her.

That couldn't be real. He heaved. It can't be real, can't be real can't be real it can’t – He's gone crazy. Yes, that must be it. He's finally gone mad and that’s why.

But the cracks of the floorboards under the creature's weight sounded far too real for him to doubt. The scratching of the claws over the ground as it dragged its gargantuan body caused a fear too intense for him to doubt. The cracking of the walls as it squeezed itself inside felt too real for him to doubt. Edward clamped his mouth shut with a shaking hand, curling up under the bed and closing his eyes tight. If he remained immovable, if he remained silent, maybe it wouldn't find him. Maybe he wouldn't die. He gulped down a whimper that threatened to escape from his throat. Cordelia's voice resonated from the creature's mouth again. Weak, raspy, and grieving. It was a strategy to lure him out. Yes. That was probably it. It couldn't possibly be something else. Because that huge monster with crude scales couldn't be his wife, with soft skin and flowing hair, with her dress that billowed in the wind when they walked over green fields together. No. That thing could not be her. "Edward... Please, I-I..." She whispered under her heavy sobs. Loud thumps echoed outside the room. "I won't hurt you... Please believe me!"

The sobs that sounded so much like her broke his heart in half. But he remembered to what it belonged to. He would not fall for it. Even if he wanted to scream for help, knowing that no one would come. Even if a part of him wanted nothing more than believe it was all true and run towards its scaly arms. He gulped down his screams of fear, and remained silent. Frozen. Unmoving. He would not fall for it

The scrapes and scratches got louder. Scales hissed over the floorboards that chirred in protest.

"I'm not a monster. I'm not –" A claw unhinged itself from the floor and the creature raised itself up. A loud bump thundered on the ceiling, a shocked gasp echoed in the dry air. Edward clutched his eyes shut. Dust and debris fell on the ground. The monster laid down again, a heavy bang thundering in the silent house. The floorboards groaned as it settled on the ground.

"If you... If you look at me like that again, I-I think I'll go crazy... I can't stand it!"

Loud sobs filled the house. Edward flinched and clutched his eyes shut, breathing heavily, curling further inside himself. He resisted the urge to break down into tears.

The dragging and shuffling got heavier. The floorboards of his bedroom, the ones he was currently laid over, creaked in complaint of the weight being placed upon them. The sound got louder. Closer.

It was entering his room.

He sucked in a quivering gasp. Heart threatening to escape his throat, he shook as if the room was freezing cold, tears cascading down his face at the thought that he really could die now. He would die. He would die. Maybe he should. Maybe she should just end him.

He saw it. The black and yellow scales, shimmering as it moved. The snake body crawling as it reached the door, so massive it got stuck in the door frame. A push or two and it got free, the walls around it cracked, dust fell around him and a crunching sound reverberated in the room. Black claws scraped the ground, wood screeching in the deafening silence. A towering human body, pale torso as tall as him, laid down, auburn locks of hair trailing on the floor. The face obscured by its raised head.

It stopped moving. He looked at its skin with heaving breaths and widened eyes.

They remained still for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was his own heartbeat, his breathing and the creature's. The tail twitched and thumped against the walls with a loud noise. He flinched as his eyes darted back and forth, hearing the friction of scales against wood.

Silence.

She sniffed. And spoke first. "... When the civil war happened, we hid here once. You would wrap your arms around me, and we'd curl up together under the bed, praying that it'd protect us." – she whispered.

"– But even when I cried, even when we thought we would die, I still felt safe with you. Do you remember that, dear…?"

The sorrowful voice spoke of memories that a monster should not have. Edward felt cold. So cold, alone under that bed.

He closed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe, after a while, he wouldn't see her when he opened them. Hugging himself, Edward shuddered as a shiver crawled up his spine. Maybe he could still return to a normal life, where he didn’t hallucinate. Maybe he could still pretend none of this happened.

There was a shifting sound, and he sucked in a trepid breath. A thud, right in front of him. With his lips trembling, and teeth grinding against each other, Edward wondered if his death would be quick. But time stretched as the room fell into stifling silence, the monster's breathing ruffling on his face. It was right in front of him. He knew. He knew that he should just keep his eyes closed, waiting for his death. He knew that. His heart hurt inside his ribcage from pounding so hard, and his stomach sank lower with fear. He should close his eyes more firmly. He should just wait a while longer.

But instead, he opened them.

Her face. Her same crying face, if not for the magnified size and its greyish blue eyes with slitted pupils. A shadow of what once was her. His wife. The one he waited for so long. The one he imagined walking back to him as he sat by that porch every day. It did come back, as a monster, a ghost ready to haunt him, blame him for the pathetic man that he was, for not being able to prevent her from going missing. A reflection of what he lost. Evidence of his cowardice. A sign that he has gone mad.

That's what he wanted to believe.

But the face that resembled his wife so faithfully mirrored his expression of dread and grief. It covered itself in such humanity, with the exhausted eyes dripping with tears. With the mouth, when its pale lips parted as it sucked in a shaky breath, even if it revealed sharp teeth underneath. With its thick, auburn hair as it clung to her sweating face. It looked so distinctly human. So distinctly real. Not at all like a ghost. Not at all like a monster out to hunt him.

In that closeup by the gap under the bed, it just looked like his wife.

Edward’s breathing got less exasperated. His heart rocked less inside his chest. His tears dried as his widened eyes remained frozen on the figure before him. He glared at its mouth, as it opened to speak.

"Edward..." It whispered. So silently, so tender yet certain, just like the time when he had her by his side.

"... I am real."

The tears resurfaced, a mix of fear, hope and despair turned into quiet, then loud sobs, then muffled screams as Edward cried and curled up further under the bed, letting out years of frustration. Years of guilt as it made his chest hurt and his breathing to narrow. He couldn't hear her, who was sobbing on her own, as he drowned in the sorrows that leaked out of his weathered body like a dam that has been broken. Did he have her back? Could he really put a stop to this? He felt guilty. So guilty. Was that his fault? If he found her, would she have turned out like this? No, she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t and that was why the tears wouldn’t stop. If the monster wanted to hurt him, Edward wouldn’t blame it, not even a little.

When he started to calm down, he didn't realize the creature was still there, in front of him, with tears gathered on its enlarged face. He regained his breath, steadily and gradually, refocusing his eyes on the grey blue irises. Her gaze softened, just like when she greeted him home after a tiring day, eyes inviting him for peaceful rest.

He needed that rest. More so than any other day.

"If I... If I move away, will you come out?"

She whispered so quietly Edward struggled to hear it. But it still sounded the same, that sweet, honeyed voice that said “I love you” with so much earnest and ease. But a part of him still doubted. His body still trembled under her alien gaze. Doubts echoed in his mind, and adrenaline pumped in his veins. If this was her, then how? Why? What kind of degenerate devil would do this to her?

But still, he wanted to believe... He did, but... He didn't want to die.

"Dear... If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I'd already done so?"

There it was, her bolder side, the one that always made her win an argument, that scolded him sometimes but he always loved it when she did. The one that now made him snap out of it, and helped Edward realize that he didn't have any power in this situation from the very beginning. The creature was huge and could see him. Indeed, if it wanted it would have hurt him long ago. Edward repeated this in his head over and over until it was enough to clear his mind.

In a glimpse of calmness, he managed to speak in what was left of his hoarse voice. "Yes... You're right, honey." And she smiled. A relieved, sad smile, one that did not have any hope in it, but that was glad he at least spoke to her like a person. Like his wife. Even if it was only for a little bit.

  She got up, the long claws visible for a second in Edward's field of vision. They recoiled towards the snake creature's chest as if it had touched a burning kettle, knowing he had seen its intimidating appendage. It shifted its body away and the scales glistened as it slithered towards the door. After a while, it stopped. The area in front of Edward was free to move now.

His heartbeat rocked louder. What if the moment he leaves it slices him open with those claws... – No. 'Snap out of it. Snap out of it.'  he repeated in his head, recalling the events and the fact that if it was a predator after its prey, he was already too difficult to be bothered with. He would be fine, Edward assumed. He had to be.

And if all of that was a lie, then it was better that he died anyway, granting the sweet release of death instead of sinking into his madness.

Because if all that he saw this night was not real, then he really has gone mad.

Edward took a deep breath. One... Two... The snake creature remained still.

Three.

He scrambled away from the bed and sat up in a hurry, heaving like he had run a marathon. Eyes closed. Waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

So he opened his eyes, coming face to face with the creature's scales stretching in the distance. His heart throbbed.

"I-it's okay, honey... You're doing great." She whispered, voice clogged by her own desire to break down into tears.

Edward took another deep breath. In… And out. No closing his eyes now. And slowly, he raised his head up, searching for the face of his beloved. Even if he was shaking from head to toe.

His eyes trailed up her body. Nervous and slim hands, covered by black scales, interlaced over her lap. The scales of her tail became thinner and thinner as he looked up, their color contrasting against the ivory skin of her human upper body. It was ashen, slim, the torso alone was as tall as he was. He looked to the chest concealed by her hair, mahogany and wavy, just like he remembered, although the strands were much longer and thicker than before. And finally, he reached it. The same sweet, tender face, looking down at him. The trembling lips struggled to show a reassuring smile, forcing her mouth shut in order to cover the fangs underneath it. Those elongated eyes, with thick eyelashes that fluttered, blinking away tears. The same straight nose. Those previously beautiful blue eyes, now a greyer shade and with pupils like a reptile's, yet with that human, longing glance, darting around Edward's face as she analyzed his every expression.

It was her. No doubt about that now.

Edward opened his mouth and closed it, struggling to form words. Thoughts spiraled inside his mind. Feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, indignation. Fear. Sorrow. Pain.

Yet hope. Above all it was hope.

Edward got up, not taking his eyes off hers.

That was no monster. It was, indeed, his wife.

"Oh, Cordelia, what have they done to you?"

His voice whispered, thick with sorrow. He looked up to see pools of tears splashing from Cordelia's face, a clear expression of relief. She sobbed, burying her face in her clawed hands, relieved that her husband called her by her name again. Relieved that he was here. Relieved that he didn't see her as a monster, at least for that moment. A piece of humanity she lost, a piece of her previous life that she missed, a piece of hope that was snatched away from her seven years ago and that she never thought she'd have again. It was returning for her.

He was returning for her.

Cordelia was surprised by a warm touch over her scaled lap. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the rough back of her hand, looking down with a gasp. Her husband was rubbing his hand over it, tiny and shaking, comforting her. An attempt to reach out.

"D-don't. They are hideous..." Tears flowed on her face.

‘Indeed, they were’, Edward thought. He never liked snakes, their scales always making his skin crawl whenever he found one in the farm. The feeling wasn't any different as he trailed his hands over her, goosebumps raised the hairs on his skin and he shuddered with each motion. Edward exhaled shakily. No matter how much he looked at it, even if everything felt unreal at the moment, he couldn’t deny who was in front of him.

"They are still you." He said.

Cordelia widened her eyes and Edward looked up at her with compassion on his face. Love, longing. They both yearned for that. For the same feeling to return to them. For the same life, that was so cruelly snatched away from them, to return as if nothing had gotten between them in the first place. Even if it was a pointless dream.

They fumbled awkwardly at what to do.

Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. His mind conjured images of him holding her tightly, back to her human form, like a dream manifesting. Yet the reality loomed over him and the long tail that filled his bedroom in multiple coils covered his skin with goosebumps, a knot tightening on his throat.

He looked up and confirmed it, Cordelia's unsure face was there. He’s not crazy. All of that was still her.

She looked away under his apprehensive gaze, turning deep red and ashamed of herself. Edward took a deep breath; she didn’t feel well and he needed to fix this. He looked down. Then looked up again.

"Can I hold you?"

The question took Cordelia aback. She backed away from him and widened her eyes. Her tail bumped on the cabinet and he twisted his neck towards the source of the sound, clearly flinching from the movement.

He was still terrified of her. Then, why...?

"You don't need to do this, Edward. You did great already –“

"No. I want to do this. If you're really you, I want to do this."

Cordelia looked down and saw Edward's determined face. Her heart broke silently inside her. Why he was so adamant in dealing with her, Cordelia didn't know. But gosh, if it wasn't for his fear and for her disgusting claws, she'd have held him close a long time ago. She missed it so much. How much she missed his strong embrace.

So she nodded, and he came closer.

Edward couldn't quite contain how much he was shaking. Couldn't contain his jolt when he touched her frigid skin, chills crawling down his spine. But despite this, he pushed on forward, kneeling over her scaled lap, glancing at how they shone even in the partial darkness. With silent fascination, Cordelia let her arms hover around him.

A moment hung between them.

And Edward latched onto her. He rested on her torso and enveloped his arms around her, as much as he could, as they barely reached her back. Cold. She was cold like a corpse. He rested his cheek against her stomach, shivering upon contact. Gosh, it was so cold. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to hold her closer. Cordelia didn't remember the last time she sensed so much warmth. She felt herself getting hot inside even when she thought she was not capable of feeling warm anymore. Edward snuggled closer to her chest, and she sighed, relishing in his contact. Gently, like she was cradling an injured bird, Cordelia enveloped her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight or not to loom over him, either. Gosh, the way her arms completely engulfed him... She felt monstrous. Edward shrank upon contact and she started to let him go, fearing this was a bad decision, but the feeling of his hug getting tighter made her arms remain still.

They stayed like this for an amount of time, taking in each other’s presence. Edward heard his wife's strong heartbeat against him, which grounded him in his current predicament, but still... Maybe he'd blink and she'd be gone, or maybe something would finally reveal that he'd made all of that up. Cordelia's embrace got a little tighter, not in a way that was hurting him, but she shifted around and her shadow loomed over as she curled around him. Her arms closed the hug in, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I missed you." she croaked.

She leaned over Edward, pulling him closer. He sighed in sweet relief upon hearing her melodic voice, feeling exhaustion weighing down on him as his body relaxed. He sank in her gentle embrace, kissing the surface of the freezing cold skin.

"I missed you too, dear."

...

They were laying on their backs under the early morning light, on the floor of the same bedroom where everything happened. Cordelia's tail stretched way further outside the room, disappearing through the door. Edward rested on top of her, not after much insistence that he wrapped a warm blanket around him. He ran his fingers through her hair, dazed, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He wasn't exactly afraid now, but the memories of the night made his heart twist with a mix of dread and guilt. Edward needed to know. How bad was everything that happened to her? Too much happened, she was gone, and now he had her back. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. And yet, Edward needed answers. Maybe, just for a few minutes, he thought, they could stay like this, and pretend that nothing had happened, but he knew that curiosity would get the best of him. Cordelia looked down at her husband with tenderness, watching as he caressed her hair, as she avoided touching him with her claws. She noticed his pensive expression and frowned.

“Is something wrong?

Edward hesitated, looking for ways to phrase his question. "What happened that made you turn into this?" He asked finally, tone even, yet with seething rage building up inside his chest. "Who did this to you?"

Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes. All the memories surfaced in her head like a messy conjecture of disfigured images and sounds. She took a shuddering breath, and spoke.

"I regained memories of you first before I remembered my own name..."

#this was my attempt at suspense #giant/tiny #g/t #hope y'all like it! #I've got some goosebumps while writing this so I hope y'all get some too lol #coffeh writes #story #writing #sfw g/t #g/t story #g/t writing #oc: cordelia #oc: edward #g/t angst #g/t hurt and comfort #gtwac #wacprompts

[inourtownofhawkins]

𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: Hawkins, Indiana, 1986. A dead end town where nothing happens. One night, Eddie Munson goes missing without a trace. He turns up two weeks later on your doorstep, covered in blood and no memory of the last two weeks. When you notice him acting strangely, you follow Eddie into the woods and discover his terrifying secret. But the most terrifying part to you? You can't bring yourself to stay away from Eddie. Whether you've realised you're in love with him or you're under his spell, you don't want to be away from Eddie for a single second and a deadly love affair begins.

Author's note: I doubt anyone's read it but this is a revamped (no pun intended) version of the fic of the same name on AO3 I wrote last year. I love that fic so much and felt like people on here would miss out on it as I haven't posted it here. If you'd ever like to read the original version, you can find it here! If any of you do choose to read it in it's entirety, please don't spoil it for others!

CW: 18+, swearing, character death, sex references, potential smut in later chapters, vampire!Eddie, blood, scenes that people may find disturbing.

Word count: 4.3k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

The alarm went off at 6:15 AM on the dot, its obnoxious and short beeping noise was the worst part of waking up, yet it was a necessary evil. You groaned as you reached out to turn off the beeping and hide back under the covers. You really weren’t in the mood to face the world or school.

You laid under the covers for another five minutes until you sighed, reluctantly pushing the covers out of the way, and sitting up. Rubbing your eyes, you groaned once more as you realized the glass next to you bed was empty. “Thirsty,” you frowned, climbing out of bed, and grabbing your glass to go downstairs and refill it.

Once you reached the kitchen, you stared out the window as your glass began to fill with water. You were completely lost in your own thoughts, distracted by a bird pecking at the grass. Suddenly, your felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to shriek and drop your glass.

Turning around to confront the culprit behind you, you punched your older brother in the arm. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!”

Stephen laughed loudly, giving you a quick hug. “I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry. You’re so easy to scare.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You laughed, picking up your glass to drink what little water was left in it before turning off the tap. “How was work?”

Stephen sighed, filling the kettle, and setting it to boil. “Same old, same old. Jamie’s gonna take you to school if that's alright.”

You frowned as you put your glass down in the sink for washing. “Why can’t you take me?”

“Because, pipsqueak, I’m fuckin’ tired.” He poured himself some coffee before leaving the kitchen and disappearing upstairs.

It had just been the three of you for almost three years; your mom had died of cancer and dad was nowhere to be found. To keep food on the table, all three of you worked. Stephen worked nights at the powerplant, Jamie worked days at the general store, and you worked weekends and the odd evening at the diner.

It wasn't much, but you made it work.

“Y/N!” Jamie called out. “I am leaving in exactly seven minutes! If you’re not ready then, I’m leaving without you!”

“Shit!” You sprinted upstairs to hastily get ready for school. You frantically threw on an Evil Dead t-shirt, dark plaid mini-skirt, and old grey socks, forcing your feet into a pair of black boots. Additionally, you grabbed your denim jacket off the floor before picking up your backpack and hurtling yourself down the stairs.

Jamie stood at the front door, looking at his watch. “Only thirty seconds to spare, I’m impressed.”

You pushed past him to get out the front door, giving him a death glare before smiling. “Oh shut up, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But for how long?” Jamie's expression went sinister as he opened the door for you before climbing into the car himself.

After climbing into the car, you punched his arm. “If you kill me on the way to school, you’d be doing me a kindness. Surely, you want me to suffer as much as possible.”

Turning the car on, Jamie pressed play on the stereo, Bronski Beat began playing throughout the car. “If I can't kill you, I'll just leave you with my terrible music.”

You groaned, sinking down into your seat. “You're too kind, sparing my life and giving me the gift of whatever this is.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I am nothing but merciful.”

The rest of the car ride was silent as you tapped your thighs to the beat of the music, watching Hawkins fly past you. Yawning, you leaned your head against the window and tried not to fall back asleep. All the late nights were definitely catching up to you and it was probably time to sleep early for once, not that you’d ever actually do it though.

The car pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot and came to a halt, with you climbing out and grabbing your backpack.

“Stephen will pick you up tonight, as usual. I'll be home probably at about 6 with dinner, alright?” Jamie leaned over to make sure you could hear him.

You nodded, putting on your headphones and grabbing your Walkman out of your backpack. “I’ll see you at home.” You didn't bother waiting for a reply as you walked into school, pressing play on your music, Shout by Tears for Fears filling your ears.

Arriving at your locker, you ignored the “Hellfire’s Bitch” plastered all over it. You’d long since given up trying to rub it off as it would appear again the next day, you were used to it anyway. When it first started to happen, you’d always scream and cry about how much you hated it and how it wasn’t true, but now you wore the name like a badge of honour.

Better to be known as Hellfire’s Bitch than a slut, right?

While you weren’t an official member of the Hellfire Club, you were still pretty good friends with the members. After your mom died, they’d more or less taken you under their wing. They made you laugh again and remind you that you always had someone looking out for you, no matter what.

The only downside was being teased for being associated with “freaks” and having to deal with the constant fear of being beaten up by Jason and his band of loyal cultists. While you hadn’t been attacked yet, you knew it was coming at some point – you were 5’1”, you didn’t stand a chance against Jason’s 5’8” frame. You’d be toast in seconds.

You shrugged off those thoughts, grabbing the necessary books out of your locker and walked to your first class, not bothering to take off your headphones. You weren’t in any classes with any of your friends anyway, so there was no point in taking them off.

You breezed your way through the classes, never putting your hand up and taking notes if you needed to. Before your mom’s death, you’d always be engaged in classes and would always ask questions. But now? You didn’t see a point in doing anything but getting your work done so you could get out.

Once the lunch bell rang, you rushed into the cafeteria and looked around for your friends, only to have Eddie Munson stand on his table and stretch his arms out towards you. “But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

Blushing deeply, you laughed and made your way over to his table. “Alright, Romeo, you can stop with the theatrics now.” Placing your tray on the table, you flattened the back of your skirt and sat down closest to Eddie.

Eddie moved his chair slightly closer to you. “You’ll never guess who I’m gonna ask to prom.”

You looked at him and then at the rest of the table before back to Eddie, knowing that everyone except you knew who he was talking about. “I’ll guess Nancy Wheeler.”

Gareth almost choked on his food from laughing. “Close but not quite.”

You went silent for a few moments to think, the smile slowly growing on your lips as an idea came to your head. “Chrissy Cunningham? Fuck off, even I wanna sleep with her.”

The entire table sat up straighter at your comment, all of them instantly thinking of you and Chrissy making out in very little clothing. Several of the boys coughed awkwardly as they readjusted their jeans, causing you to roll your eyes and turn back to Eddie. “You’re such a bullshitter, Munson.”

Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not bullshitting, I swear.”

You laughed, opening your carton of juice. “I’ll believe you when I see it for myself.”

Eddie gave you a slight smirk, his eyes focused on your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. “Don’t you worry, Juliet, I’ll prove it.”

You raised an eyebrow, licking your lips. “I’m betting on it.”

Gareth sighed, slamming his fist down on the table, causing you and Eddie to jump. “Either kiss and get it over with or stop eye-fucking each other, there’s kids around.”

You and Eddie moved slightly away from each other, coughing awkwardly as you took a sip of your juice. Talk at the table went to the usual next D&D session, you just sitting and listening to the excited boys, not knowing, or understanding anything that was being said. But listening to the excitement in their voices always made your smile.

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully and ended with you waiting outside the school for Stephen to pick you up. As usual, he was late. Everyone else had already gone home, leaving you to sit on the wall in front of the school with your headphones on, staring at the road and waiting for Stephen’s car.

A person stood in front of you, causing you to take your headphones off and look up at them. “Well well well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Juliet."

You sighed, folding your arms over your chest. “Why are you still here, Eddie? School’s over.”

Eddie almost frowned as he sat down beside you on the wall, ignoring your question. “Why are you still here?”

“Stephen’s supposed to pick me up. I guess he forgot,” you shrugged, grimacing.

“What’re you listening to?” Eddie took your headphones, pressing play on your Walkman before you could answer. You watched his face show little to no emotion as he listened to your music, his eyes focused on something in the distance, or probably nothing at all.

After a few minutes, he took the headphones off and handed the Walkman back to you. “Because you didn't give me a chance to answer before you listened, it’s Modern Talking.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “It's… different.”

You shook your head, laughing a little. “It’s okay, you can say you hate it.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning his head in closer to yours. “Whoever said I hated it?”

“Oh please, I know you, Romeo. You don’t wanna be rude by saying my music is terrible, so you call it interesting, you’ve said that about anything you don’t like that I like.”

Eddie smirked. “So you think you know me?”

You raised an eyebrow, getting closer to him. “Of course I know you, we know each other very well.”

“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t.”

You moved away, brushing him off. “You never answered my earlier question, why are you still here?”

Eddie shrugged, fiddling with the ends of your hair. “I was about to leave when I saw you out here alone, I didn’t think you should be waiting for your bother alone... if he even turns up.”

You frowned. “He’ll turn up, he’s just running late.”

“I’ll tell you what; if he doesn’t turn up in the next 10 minutes, I will take you home.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before slowly nodding your head. “Okay, sure.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had offered to drive you home; he’d even done it a handful of times over the past few years. But you always felt guilty over him having to stay later after school to wait with you and then eventually drive you home.

While your brothers tolerated Eddie and accepted that he was a friend, they were still wary of him. Not because of any of the Hellfire “cult” nonsense, but because of Eddie’s reputation for dealing drugs and smoking almost constantly. It was the typical overprotective older brother routine that you’d had been forced to live with since your parents died.

Eddie lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke, being careful to not blow it in your face. You looked in his direction, taking the cigarette from him and taking a long drag, blowing out the smoke as you handed it back.

Almost hesitantly, Eddie took the cigarette back. “Okay, that was the hottest thing you've ever done, who knew Juliet could hold a smoke?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “Surprised, Munson?”

He took another drag, processing everything he’d just witnessed. “I just pictured you as the good girl, never doing anything like this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We crash parties all the time, I’d hardly call myself the good girl.”

Eddie took one last long drag before throwing his cigarette away. “In that case, Juliet, the not good girl, I think it’s high time I take you home.”

You sighed, nodding as you picked up your backpack and jacket, making your way over to Eddie’s van with Eddie wrapping an arm around your shoulder. His arm dropped to open the passenger side door for you before disappearing to the other side of the van and climbing in.

You tossed your bag and jacket in before climbing in yourself, closing the door behind you. The van smelled of thousands of cigarettes, beer cans and cologne; while you wouldn’t call it horrible, it certainly took you by surprise every time you smelled it. You were sure the smell was strong enough to burn some hairs off your nose, not that  you’d ever say anything to Eddie about it.

The car ride was silent between you two, the only sound was Eddie’s stereo playing Master of Puppets by Metallica, Eddie’s hands tapping against the steering wheel. You’d heard him play the song a thousand times since it was released, it was cute in a way.

People always saw Eddie have this tough and scary exterior but once people ripped the surface away and go deeper, they’d see that he was one of the softest and kindest people in the school. Fiercely protective and loyal to those closest to him, he’d take a bullet for them if he could.

All too soon, Eddie had parked his van outside of your house and was waiting for you to make a move. You awkwardly picked up your belongings, knowing you should say something… anything but nothing came to mind. “I’ll see you later?” You blurted out without fully thinking beforehand.

It came out more like a question than anything else, and if Eddie could hear your thoughts, he’d be bombarded with loud screaming and being told you were an idiot repeatedly. You couldn’t understand why today of all days, you couldn't act normal around him.

Just say goodbye like a normal person, you complete loser.

Eddie nodded, giving you a gentle smile, clearly not fazed by your strange reaction. “See you later, Juliet. And please don’t tell your brothers I let you smoke.”

You nodded, your insides melting at that damned smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” You nodded as you opened the door and climbed out. After closing the door, you gave him a salute before racing inside.

Once the door was closed, you instantly began banging your forehead against it repeatedly, cringing at every hit until you felt a hand on your forehead, moving your head away from the door. “If you wanted to crack your skull open, you’ll have to hit harder than that.”

You frowned, moving your head to see Stephen grinning beside you. Once you realised who it was, you instantly began punching his arm. “You were supposed to pick me up from school, asshole!”

Stephen raised his arms in defence before grabbing your fists to stop you from attacking him. “I know and I’m sorry, my alarm didn’t wake me up. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You stopped fighting, your eyes narrowing. “Make it up to me how?”

He let go of your hands. “You can have whatever you want for dinner all weekend, and Eddie Munson can take you to school and pick you up for the rest of the month.”

You thought about his offer for a moment before nodding. “You got yourself a deal, you’re lucky you get to live another day.” You held out your hand and Stephen shook it, sealing the deal.

He smiled as their hands shook before his smile dropped almost as quickly as it appeared. “Did you smoke?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment before you bolted for the stairs, Stephen hot on your heels. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down as soon as you reached the top step. “I’m gonna kill Munson!” he yelled.

“You said he could be my ride for a month! We had a deal!” You yelled back, trying to hold in your laughter as you lay on the stairs.

“That was before I knew he got you to smoke!”

You were just about to kick him in the balls to get him off, but the front door opened, revealing Jamie had come home with burgers. Stephen looked down at you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “This isn’t over, you’re grounded for the rest of the semester,” then he walked downstairs to greet his brother.

Rolling your eyes, you turned over and stood up, slowly making your way down the stairs. At first, you thought it was all a joke but hearing your brother’s voice sound so threatening made you realise that perhaps he wasn’t joking at all and maybe you were grounded after all.

Arriving in the kitchen, you grabbed your Styrofoam box of a burger and fries from the greasy bag and grabbed a Coke from the fridge before sitting down at the counter to eat.

The three of you ate in silence, until Jamie spoke up through a mouthful of fries. “How was school?”

You shrugged, finishing the rest of your burger before answering. “Same old, same old, Stephen forgot to pick me up, so Eddie brought me home.”

Stephen shook his head, clearly annoyed that you brought it up. “I didn’t forget, I overslept. Do I need to bring up how you’re grounded for the rest of the semester?”

You looked down, playing with a fry. Jamie frowned, turning to the eldest sibling. “Why’s she grounded?”

“Would you like to say why you’re grounded?” Stephen asked, you shook your head. “She’s grounded because she smoked.”

Jamie raised his eyebrow slightly, directing his next question towards you. “Was it drugs or just a cigarette?”

“Cigarette,” you almost whispered, hanging your head.

“What do you mean “just” a cigarette? She shouldn’t be smoking anything!” Stephen almost yelled.

“You were her age once! You did far worse than her! Do I need to remind you why all your girlfriends were banned from the house? Or why none of mom’s jewellery was left to us?” Jamie fired back.

“It’s because I did worse shit that I want to stop her from continuing!” Stephen towered over Jamie. “If she isn't careful, she’ll ruin her life!”

“OH MY GOD, STOP PRETENDING TO BE DAD!” You screamed, getting off your seat. “No matter how hard you put on the persona, you’ll never be him.”

Stephen moved around the counter to stand in front of you, looking like a giant compared to you. “I don’t know if you noticed, kiddo, since that deadbeat left, I have to be. My life ended the day mom died. Both of our lives did, we had to look after you.”

“So this is my fault?” You laughed bitterly. “If you didn’t want me, you should’ve just shipped me off to England when Aunt Clara fucking asked.”

His eyes narrowed, his voice getting quiet. “You know what? Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I wouldn’t be stuck in this fucking shithole with a little brother who’s a pushover and a little sister who thinks the entire world revolves around her.”

Before another word could be said, Stephen stormed out of the house and sped away, leaving you and Jamie to stare at each other and wonder what in the world had just happened. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, you darted towards the door and shakily grabbed your coat and put it on.

“Where are you going?” Jamie asked, walking towards the door after you.

“Out.”

“You’re grounded, remember?”

“So stop me from going out then.” You waited for a few seconds before nodding your head. “I’ll be back later, I just wanna clear my head.”

Jamie pulled you in for a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not a burden to me, okay? Stephen’s just got a lot resting on his shoulders and I know he shouldn’t take it out on you, but he just wants the best for you.”

You nodded, hugging him back before letting go. “I love you, Jamie, and I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

Jamie brushed you off. “Nah you didn’t, don’t worry about it. I love you too and go see Eddie.”

“How did you know I’d go see Eddie?”

“I was eighteen once before, I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t-” you stuttered, completely taken aback by your brother’s comment.

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. Now go before it gets too dark.”

You gave him a smile before walking out into the dusk. It wasn’t too far to walk to Eddie’s, but it still probably wasn’t a good idea to walk it at that hour and alone. You shivered a little and wished you’d put on tights or jeans before leaving but it was far too late for that now; you’d probably borrow a blanket from Eddie when you were there.

After almost an hour of walking, you arrived at Eddie’s trailer. With a shaky hand, you knocked on his door. As you waited, you could feel the anxiety rising within you, almost making you cry; not over seeing Eddie, but the weight of the argument and what Stephen had said had finally hit you and it hit like a tonne of bricks.

Eddie opened the door with a wide smile. “Well this is a surprise, Juliet.” His smile dropped once he noticed you were on the verge of a panic attack. “What happened? Who do I need to kill?”

You shook your head, hugging him tightly, burying your face in his chest. Eddie closed the door behind you and hugged you back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before gently scratching the top of your head, soothing you. “You're okay, nothing will hurt you here.”

Keeping your head in his chest, you breathed in the smell of cigarettes and cologne, both smells and Eddie’s words helping you calm down. Slowly, you came out of the hug. “I got into an argument with Stephen.”

Eddie nodded, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. “You get the blankets; I’ll get the beer.”

You nodded, grabbing blankets from the sofa and Eddie’s room before making your way up to the roof of the trailer, arranging the blankets to be comfortable to sit on and resting one on your lap to warm your legs up.

The pair of you always sat on the roof whenever you came over, staring up at the sky, looking at clouds and smoking during the day and looking at constellations, talking about your dreams and drinking during the night.

Eddie brought up a box of beer, passing it up to you as he finished climbing up the ladder himself. He settled next to you, getting two cans out and opening one before handing it to you and opening his own. “You wanna tell me what actually happened?”

You sighed before taking a sip of your beer, reluctantly nodding. “There isn’t much to really say. Stephen grounded me for the rest of the semester because I was smoking with you. He also basically said that I ruined both his and Jamie’s lives when our mom died, and he wished he’d sent me off to England.”

Eddie took a massive chug of his beer, clearly trying to contain his anger. “Your brother is an asshole, I’m sorry but he is. If he doesn’t apologize for saying what he said and ungrounding you, I’ll get my uncle to beat his ass.”

You shook your head, taking a long drink. “Don’t worry about it, Jamie has my back.”

“The offer’s always open, Juliet.”

You smiled at each other as you both fell silent, drinking your beers and staring up at the stars, the silence of the trailer park occasionally broken by a couple arguing or a dog barking. To you, it was nothing short of heaven to be under the stars with Eddie and dreaming of being away from home.

“Let’s get out of here.” Eddie said, breaking the silence.

You looked at him before looking at your watch. “The diner should still be open.”

“I was thinking more somewhere overseas.”

“So my brother shouts at me, I should flee the country?”

“This place is a dead end; we’ve been saying it for years.”

“So what’re we gonna do about it?”

He shrugged slightly. “You know I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go.”

You downed the rest of your beer. “What if I wanna go to Antarctica?”

He laughed, shaking his head slightly as he opened another beer for you, handing it to you. “In that case, Juliet, I’d better get my winter coat.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip. “Did you mean it? When you said you’d take Chrissy to prom?” You asked quietly.

Realising your change in demeanour, Eddie stroked your cheek with his thumb. “There’s only one girl I’d take to prom, and it’ll never be Chrissy Cunningham.”

With watery eyes, you looked at him. “Who’s that?”

Eddie smiled gently, leaning into you, as if he was about to kiss you but he stopped just before you lips, his forehead resting against yours as his dark eyes bore into yours. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over your lips to stop you before continuing. “And since I do wanna take you to prom, there’s one very important question I must ask you. Y/N, my Juliet, may I take you out on a date tomorrow night?”

A tear fell down your cheek as you smiled, taking a few seconds to answer. “Edward Munson, my Romeo, you may take me out on a date tomorrow.”

#spilled ink #who wants to live forever #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie #vampire!eddie x reader

[ssentimentals]

hoshi + cuddling

'i feel fine, really! i'm not sic-' right at that soonyoung sneezes loudly, almost jumping out of the bed. he falls back on it with a loud groan, covering his face with a pillow.

'right, you're not sick at all,' you deadpan, rolling your eyes. you reach over for the salt and pepper, turning to look at him: 'bless you. you want me to add more black pepper or salt?'

'salt,' he replies, sneezing again. 'god, this is awful.'

you add the salt and then check the taste of the soup, nodding to yourself. 'soup is ready, come out.'

soonyoung says that he fell sick two days ago, but you suspect that in reality he felt off for an entire week, managing to somehow stove off the inevitable by being extra busy. you should have known, really, from the first bell when you two facetime'd each other and he had a runny nose. his stubbornness sometimes knows no limits and arguing with him about this leads to nothing, so you go along with his 'it's been only two days, i promise!' with a long sigh and a reluctant nod. carefully you place the bowl on the table, also putting the kettle on. 'tea with a lemon sounds good?' you ask loudly. you pause as no reply comes out within the next seconds. 'soonyoung?'

'come here please!' he calls.

you walk towards the bedroom and find your boyfriend wrapped in the blanket in a burrito way, only his head can be seen. his pout is more visible than anything else though - soonyoung hates being sick, hates feeling useless and especially hates when he can't spend time with you cause he doesn't want you to get sick as well. you shake your head fondly, stopping right at the door, leaning on it. taking care of soonyoung is not an easy task considering how he despises chicken soups and taking pills, but after battling one flu with him, you now consider yourself a professional at it. at the sight of you soonyoung lights up like a christmas tree and you can't be mad at him at all when he uses his famous eye smile. you don't move and seeing how you're not coming closer, soonyoung pouts even harder. 'why are you standing so far away?'

'soup is ready, you need to eat something,' you say instead of replying to his question.

'come cuddle me first.'

'you haven't eaten anything since you woke up,' you press, not moving. it is hard to do so, when he looks so cute all wrapped up like burrito, but someone has to be responsible. 'eat first, soonyoung.'

'cuddle me first.' he repeats, reminding you again who is the king of stubbornness here. in order to make his point even clearer, he opens up the blanket and moves to the left side of the bed, making space for you. 'right here.'

arguing with him is a losing game. you know it, you knew it from the start but you still are trying to be stern, not wanting to give in this time too. you frown, taking one step closer. 'but you really need to eat.'

soonyoung's expression softens and he smiles gently, tapping place next to him. 'i will eat after cuddles, i promise,' he assures you in a serious tone and then smiles, opening the blanket even more: 'now come here, please.'

admitting defeat, you shuffle towards him and smile, when he sighs in satisfaction as bed dips under your weight. you don't even have time to get comfortable before he wraps around you like an octopus, blocking you any route to escape. plastering his chest to your back, soonyoung giggles happily, tucking his face into your neck. his arms loop around your waist and he makes sure to intertwine your legs as well. it's not the most comfortable position for you at first, but you relax as he starts pressing small kisses on your neck, mumbling how good you smell.

'this is so nice,' he lets out, content. 'thank you.'

your hands rest on top of his and you smile secretly; soonyoung's warmth is something you also missed during last two days so being back in his arms feels like coming home. his breathing tickles a little but it feels so familiar that your eyes close on their own accord. 'do not let us fall asleep,' you mumble, pressing closer to him.

'no promises here,' he mouths into your neck, yawning. 'missed having you like this.' soonyoung hands get under your t-shirt and rest gently on your stomach, caressing it. 'let's just stay like that, please?'

there's so much longing in his voice that rejecting him feels like a crime; you nod and he kisses your neck once more before relaxing. laying in his arms like that you don't think about any of the errands that you are supposed to do, choosing to concentrate on him instead; how each part of your bodies seems to be connected, how warm it feels, how you instantly feel less anxious. you turn your head to the side and peck his nose, making him smile. 'love you,' you whisper before turning back.

'you're too cute,' he mumbles, tightening his hold. 'i love you too.'

a/n: don't come at me but i genuinely hate spooky season so nothing on halloween theme will be written, have a cute hoshi instead!!

here is the link to my other works and let me know if you liked this oneee <3 - nini

tag list: @pearlygraysky @woozionascooter @smalliechelle @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n (let me know if you want to be added!)

#hoshi seventeen #hoshi x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #kwon soonyoung #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #seventeen reaction #hoshi fluff #seventeen kwon soonyoung #svt x reader #svt fluff #hoshi is in top3 best cuddles in seventeen!!

[kikirahkikiaye]

official first look at the first chapter of INFERNO!

Or, the prosenna centric f1 fanfic with drivers from different eras all thrown into one grid, in the y2k!

out in about a week, enjoy<3

sneak peek, below the cut

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Schumacher and Button slip into friendly banter about this year’s WDC, and despite himself, Ayrton’s mind is distracted elsewhere. It’s caught up trying to trace the trajectory of Rosberg’s gaze. The better one (aka, not Keke). The disco lights make it a hassle for Ayrton to figure out what's gotten Nico’s knickers in a twist but this is his territory after all. So what would usually take him a few seconds to put two and two together, takes him a few minutes. 

It’s a moppy look, Ayrton thinks, and for his sake and that of anyone and everyone that had to put up with him back in the day, he hopes he wasn’t this down bad.

This is about the time his inner monologue would go: You’re fooling no one Ayrton.

With a light smile on his face, he approaches the barstool Nico has had his ass planted on since the start of the party. It isn’t until he’s within a 1-metre radius of the blond when details hit his mind like tetris blocks. He can practically hear the wineglass’s cries of agony, what with the way Rosberg’s fingers are snaked around them in a vise-like grip, all white from the pressure and Senna’s surprised he went this long without breaking it five minutes into the party. Or, after Lewis arrived with a girl in his arms.

With a soft ahem to clear his throat, he claps on Nico’s shoulders, calling him in a way he hopes is casual. Nothing I’m sorry your man is fucking up, I know how it feels “And how’s my favourite Rosberg tonight?”

Under his palms, he feels the tautness of his shoulders melt. 

“I’m glad I could win the position. It was a real tough competition with my dad,” he tries to deadpan. Tries being the keyword, because his voice doesn’t sport the extra decibel of calm  it does when he’s not overworking his brain with maybes and what-ifs, Ayrton notices.

“Oh I bet,” Ayrton humours him, before continuing a smidge softer, “he kept looking at you, y’know?”

Nico scoffs before throwing Ayrton’s own words back at him, “Oh, I bet.”

Sighing, Ayrton turns to face him completely. If the recessed lighting from the mirrorball was an excuse for not reading the room quite right before, the proximity does the job when he’s greeted with his-usually bright eyes droopy. From what, he knows all too well. Something something pot calling the kettle black.

“Look, hey,” he starts, “it’ll be-”

“Save it.” 

He does. 

He still remembers meeting Keke’s son in the holidays. “Nico” he’d enunciated the name, who was only 7 at the time, had been ecstatic. Apparently, meeting Senna was his birthday present (alongside the Ariel Atom 4, which he only later discovered). 

The image is as clear as if it were yesterday. Hell, he practically sees it flash before his eyes like some movie.

Wide eyes and flushed cheeks had accompanied the kid’s remark, “One day, I want to be like you.”

He’d smiled at that, all warm and soft. The way he only did with children.

“Shush, see your old gramps over there?” he pointed at the older version of the little blond he kneeled down next to, “He’s going to be a petty little shit and give me hard time come next race,”

Little Rosberg (or the Better Rosberg, as Ayrton would rather say) chuckled, and Keke smacked Ayrton’s head lightly, warning him, “Don’t curse around him, motherfixer.”

“Aw, look, you're finally turning into a dad! The ‘92 Rosberg could never,” 

His face softened, “He could never.”

“If someone ever told me you’d be the one to get into the role of the mushy father the first out of all of us back then, I would have laughed in their face,”

Keke’s own chuckle resounded across the waters of Lake Como, “That’s the only valid response I suppose. Which is still better ‘cause I’d have punched them, trust me,”

“Absolutely zero qualms about it,” 

The telltale rays of crimson kissed the waters at long last.

And then, in a voice that’s all too soft, he said with a weird look on his face, “And I’m glad I can say that now.”

Thud sounds the push to the chair that precedes Nico’s evasion and brings Ayrton back to Beleza and while inherently, he knows that if words had human counterparts, Nico’s would be “prudent”, he also knows a thing or two about unrequited longing himself.

And well, what do they say about burnt children dreading the fire?

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 rpf #ao3 fanfic #prosenna #alain prost #ayrton senna #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #jenson button #michael schumacher #f1 fanfic #f1 fic rec #ao3

[hbnjhgv]

What subject AOT vets would teach

(Erwin, Levi, Hange, Miche, Pixis, Hannes, Nile)

Erwin: He teaches English and AP Government. He has first, second, and third period English and teaches fourth period AP Gov. He also wears a tie to school every day and does Sudoku or cross words during class and passing periods. Has the lunch ladies put his lunch in the fridge since it's colder than the mini fridge he has in his classroom, and everyone says hi to him or talks to him on his way back to class. Watch the history channel after school and during lunch.

Levi: Slightly strict History teacher that everyone loves. If you ask him a stupid question, he'll respond with, “I'm not answering useless questions.” Doesn't hesitate to send people to the principal, but never really gives detention because he doesn't want to stay after school with a bunch of teenagers in his classroom. But if you ask him for help or tell him you don't understand something, he will stay after school to help you understand the work. Has the best test scores in the school.

Hange: Biology teacher that somehow still has a job. They've had so many accidents during experiments that they have a helper teacher (Moblit) in their classroom to keep them from blowing up the school. Yes. They do experiments that could cause explosions. In a biology class. Don't ask. Has an entire snack drawer, microwave, coffee machine, and kettle of water with hot chocolate packets in a basket next to it, in their classroom. Is seen as the 'cool teacher' and always has people sitting in their classroom during lunch.

Miche: Super cool math teacher whose class students always request to switch into. Teaching style makes it super easy for everyone to understand and is super nice. He also gives great advice and when girls spray themselves in body mist before class ends, he doesn't get upset. When grading tests, he writes little notes like 'your shoes were cool that day' or 'I liked your shirt that day' Also has the best test scores and grades out of all the math teachers.

Pixis: Law teacher who uses his own charges as what not to do. Also gets a lot of parking/ speeding tickets and complains about how cops are dicks. Never gives a grade below a C- because "at least you tried” Has something called 'movie Thursday and Friday' where at the end of class on Wednesdays everyone votes for a movie then the last half of class on Thursday and all class Friday (sometimes all of Thursday and Friday depending on the movie length) he puts of a movie for everyone to watch.

Hannes: "Teaches" Statistics, but he actually just uses it as a free period and everyone passes his class. Since he's good friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin's parents, the three of them hang out in his classroom the period before lunch since their teacher lets them out like half an hour early so she can go on her own lunch break early. His entire chalk board is covered in drawings, and for some reason has a fridge with every juice you can think of. (He says it helps with hangovers)

Nile: Finance teacher. Strict grader and gets asked about Erwin since people know that they went to high school together. He may be a strict grader and give a lot of homework, but his tests and pop quizzes are a piece of cake. Has a box of saltine crackers on his desk for some reason and always has Werther's Originals with him where ever he goes. Has the WORST coffee breath and only drinks one cup of black coffee all day.

#aot #attack on titan #aot fluff #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin

[rebouks]

Previous | Next

Transcript:

Victoria: Tonight, yeah? Tristen: I already told you I’m busy. Victoria: Bullshit.

Tristen: [sighs] Fine, but-… Victoria: Shh, I’ll bring some-… Tristen: Don’t!

Victoria: I’m fucking with you, lighten up. Tristen: You-… Victoria: Save it for later.

…

Oscar: Girlfriend? Tristen: Yikes-.. no. Oscar: No?

Tristen: More like an old friend, y’know..? I’m not so sure I should be hanging out with her again, to be honest. Oscar: Well, be careful. You’ve come too far to throw it all away for some random fuck buddy.

Tristen: I will, it’s fine. Oscar: Alright.. call me if you’re suddenly not fine though, yeah? Tristen: Thanks, man.

Oscar: I mean it, middle of the night-.. whenever, I won’t mind. Tristen: [laughs] Yeah, ‘cause you never sleep! What’s up anyway? Oscar: I’m waiting for someone.

Tristen: You don’t seem happy about-… Oscar: Long story. Catch you later, dude. Tristen: Alright, see ya.

Norma: I can tell by the look on your face that you were expecting someone a little more polished. Oscar: I mean.. pot kettle black n’ all that. Norma: [chuckles] Fair. Are you okay with dogs? I’d leave him in the car, but-…

Oscar: Nah, it’s fine. Norma: He won’t bother us. [Oscar smiles tightly, clearly unsure of the woman stood before him]

Norma: There’s no need to be nervous. Oscar: I don’t know what you want from me… Norma: [shrugs] Your story? If you’re willing to part with it, that is.

Oscar: I guess we’ll see. Norma: Let’s walk. I can blather about myself first, if it’d make you more comfortable. Oscar: Sure…

#somnium #sims 4 #storytelling #ts4 story #sims story #simblr #oscar finch #tristen burks #victoria crane #norma forbes #roland is the doggo's name eheh