#he sort of loses himself at times like this

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart. 

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME 

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment. 

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week. 

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines. 

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other. 

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal. 

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past. 

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past! 

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile. 

YOU: i hate you 

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do. 

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer. 

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms. 

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead. 

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in. 

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.” 

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.” 

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!” 

“Am not!” 

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place. 

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back. 

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.” 

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider. 

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream. 

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence. 

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?” 

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?” 

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.” 

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other. 

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week. 

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues. 

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.” 

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line. 

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously. 

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends. 

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?” 

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?” 

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications. 

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius. 

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night? 

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest. 

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now. 

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. 

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come. 

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING. 

Oh.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him. 

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable? 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen. 

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you. 

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” 

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” 

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.” 

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?” 

“It’s for safety.” 

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?” 

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.” 

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.” 

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of. 

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized. 

“We can go helmet shopping another day.” 

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you. 

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that. 

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy. 

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street. 

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again. 

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?” 

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.” 

“You say that to every girl you bring here?” 

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.  

“Only the prettiest ones.” 

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week. 

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you. 

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him. 

 The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy. 

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his. 

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver. 

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race. 

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” 

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands. 

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch. 

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide. 

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away. 

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.” 

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.” 

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. 

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me? 

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.” 

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?” 

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Does it really matter?” 

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking. 

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him. 

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on. 

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse. 

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light. 

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.” 

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away. 

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.” 

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?” 

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?” 

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.” 

“Like you have been?” 

“Burn in Hell.” 

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill. 

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish. 

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen. 

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of. 

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.” 

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends? 

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends? 

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter 

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that. 

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again. 

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.” 

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.” 

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.” 

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist. 

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly. 

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.” 

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce. 

“I did.”

“I believe you.” 

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much. 

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much. 

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.” 

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play. 

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead. 

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song. 

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember. 

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot. 

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you. 

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?” 

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.” 

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?” 

“Maybe.” 

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer. 

You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him. 

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly. 

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care. 

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him. 

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up. 

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter. 

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.” 

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter. 

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others. 

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet. 

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply. 

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were. 

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer. 

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.” 

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.” 

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.” 

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time. 

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile. 

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind. 

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing. 

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect. 

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.” 

“I have an answer.” 

“You sound very sure there, big guy.” 

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?” 

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though. 

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness. 

“Yeah. Dating.” 

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye. 

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating. 

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him. 

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it. 

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.” 

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.” 

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed. 

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #beyond the hours #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest #i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves #i might revamp the masterlist #also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike #eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her

[dark-night-hero]

"So it's true! You and her- Guizhong were a thing. Then what the hell does that make me Morax?!" "Can you just drop it of? We're in a hurry." He was tired. And their friend was in danger. "No! Knowing you'll be out there to save your other lover, tell me the truth Morax! Is it true?!" It was the same topic of argument for some time now. He had been denying it over and over again, he just cannot seem to understand why you kept insisting even after hearing him say that was not the case. And he was getting tired of it.

Guizhong was just a friend and that very same friend is now in danger if they do not arrive at rhe right time and here he is getting hold up because of your questions. And knowing you would not let him go even if he were to deny it because that was the truth. Maybe he should give in for now to avoid further more questioning and leave as fast as he can so he could come back to you in now time, knowing that he could easily resolve the misunderstanding and his lies. "You know what. It's true. Now if you just get out of the way, I need to save her." "Wha-what? Wa-wait! Morax-!"

He did not mean to be harsh than he already is. He was just mad, mad because he saw no reason why you should get jealous of a friend, a common friend of yours. Mad because he was running late and a little more than to it could possibly result the death of a dear friend. At the same time, he was mad at himself for leaving that way. But he knew he could always explain when he came back into you. The two of you could always sort it out after the battle like you two always does.

So why? So why in the world- celestia were everything was on fire. And you were in the middle of it, leaning on your weapon for support, blood running down all the way from your temple into your chin. It was not just that. You are bleeding, bleeding all over. Why. Why why why why why? Just what the hell happened in here?

"Don't come." You utter, despite the fact that you could barely stand, you painfully look forward to your lover... heh, can he still be called a lover when he already admitted that he betrayed you? "Some..." you pant. "Some beings came into the city while you were away... hahh, I manage to defend the city until all the people manage to flee but- cough! Hahh, the god manage to escape."

"No. No no no no no." It was getting hard to breathe, nevertheless you should see Morax from afar, running towards you. "Bastard- I told you not to come he-!" You stagger forward, for a moment losing consciousness, still, you embrace yourself with the thought of you hitting the ground. But you never did.

"Let go." "It was a lie. There was no one else." "Morax- I said-" "I was in a hurry, I did not mean to say those words. Guizhong was only a friend. Believe me. God- Celestia. There is no one else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." He was hugging, cradling you in his arms. His tears rolling down his cheeks, into your own but you were feeling quite numb to notice that.

"It's..." You tried to hold up a hand but you could only feel the pain and the more it drains you. In the end you could only hold on into his arm. "It's okay... you don't have to lie to make me... feel better." You tried to smile to make him feel better, so why does it look like he was about to lose his whole world? "No. No please. It's nothing like that. I was a fool, I am a fool. Please believe me there is no one else but you. (First name). Please."

You knew he was talking, you can see him talking despite how things were slowly starting to go blurr, you can hear a few words but cannot seemed to focus on it when there is a high pitched ring that makes you unable to focus on what he was saying. Also, "It's cold." You mumble, fighting everything you can to stay conscious.

"Fuck!" Morax can feel your body slowly but surely cooling down. Suddenly his heart dropped as he panicked, he was getting anxious. He felt fear for the first time in his life. "Hold on, please hold on." He tried, he tried his best to fix you with his powers but it was no avail. You have so many wounds, you have already lost a lot of blood. You were dying all ago. "Fuck." He cursed once again. "Fuck, fuck! I told you to hold on (First name)!" He was getting mad again.

Morax felt like he was going mad, he felt like he was about to get crazy. Specially when he saw you starting to close your eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine. "Don't you dare close your eyes (First name)!" Not like this, not when you seemed to sure that he never loved- love you. "Fuck!" His amber iris were glowing with that presence of a dragon. "Don't you dare fell asleep (First name). I'm begging you please-?" He felt a light squeeze on his arm.

"Its.. okay." Taking your last breath, Morax felt the heavy weight of your now dead body in his arms. Your hand falling to your side as your head rest in his chest. At that very moment a rain drop fell from the sky, Morax arms were trembling yet still manage to pull you closer to him as if trying to find a little warmth. "Hah, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA."

That day, the dragon lost his mate. His one and only mate as his anguish cries were heard all throughout their land.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: bye, may klase pa ko ng alas quatro sa hapon.

: Also, why is it always zhongli who become the victim of my angst ideas. Tho I might make a same promt with ???

#dark night hero #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #genshin drabbles #genshin zhongli #genshin guizhong #zhongli headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli angst #zhongli x you #zhongli x yn #morax x you #morax x y/n #morax x reader #genshin morax #genshin impact morax #morax #genshin x y/n #genshin impact imagines #hatdog

[artytaeh]

. . . this is a silly thought, but indulge me!

( i might write more elaborated headcanons about it, though. let's see, let's see. 🌷 )

thinking about reader having kids with mattheo or theodore. and despite these two being so similar in some things, they'd be the opposite on this:

because there's a vital part of your baby growing up, where they start babbling, threatening to say their first word. the silent expectation to see which of you the baby will call for first— their mama, or their papa.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT is a mama's boy; even at his adult stage, having left hogwarts with you and putting a ring on your finger, it's inevitable that theo's mother always had, always will have such a special place in his heart.

theo looks at you, looks at the baby created from the strong love you feel for each other— and his heart aches, somewhat bittersweetly, as theodore imagines his mother there with his little family; making the scenario even more perfect on his eyes. theo constantly thinks about how much his mother would absolutely adore you, and be the best grandmother possible for your baby.

so, being a mama's boy— and seeing the tenderness you have for your child as a parallel of the unconditional love that theo's mother had for him...

... theodore nott isn't competitive for the first time on his life, because truly, theo wants your child to call out for you first.

not because he's uninterested or doesn't care for your child! no, it's the opposite— theo loves you both so, so much, that his heart feels like bursting from so much love, so much tenderness and happiness. it's just that you deserve it more!

both of you made the child, of course; a human being isn't made alone. yet, as much as theo supported you as much as he could— it was you whose body developed this little human that theo adores so much. you went through all those morning sickness, all of those cravings and body changes; it was you who spent hours in labor to bring that child to the world— it was you who fed them on their first weeks of life.

so, seriously, with all his heart: theo felt like it was only fair for this little human of yours to call for his beloved wife first.

and he even makes sure that such a thing happens!

on a sunny day, you'd find theodore sat on the garden; during these first months of this little human's life, it was a joint decision to spend them in theo's childhood house— where he grew up with his mother, on these beautiful grounds of italy.

sat with his back against a tree, theo uses his knees to support the baby's back, as the little human giggles and trashes both chubby arms and legs, amused by the tenderness of their father; theodore nott. he makes sure that the baby has their beautiful eyes looking at him— pronouncing the syllables with patience.

'ma-ma. mama. maaaaaa... ma.' he'd say, slowly for the baby, exaggerating the movement of his mouth, so that in a way, it would be easier for them to imitate.

it didn't matter how long it took for the baby to properly say those two simply syllables— theo would keep mouthing 'mama' over and over again, carrying the baby on his arms, to then point at you: with a cheeky smile (proud to be the father of this little human, whose also your child. you're their mother. and his wife.), theo gestures to the baby.

'mama. that's your mama; the woman i love the most. ever since i saw your maaaa-ma, i knew that she would be la mia futura sposa.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE, on the other hand, doesn't know how to lose; unless his loss brings some sort of benefit to him, obviously.

however this time... no, there wasn't much of a benefit, of a reward to let you win this time. it was a question of honor, of duty! to get this child of yours to call for mattheo first. (as silly as it is, mattheo needs a way to subconsciously assure himself, that he'll be a better father than his. that he'll offer support and unconditional love to this baby— not fear, resentment, and vicious bad habits to deal with the damage.)

and despite this tiny human being days, weeks or few months old— that doesn't really matter to mattheo, because he'd sooner than later teach your child about this corrupted world you live in. that this society, the human beings are nothing but weak meat, meant to fall into temptation, to indulge corruption and...!

long story short: mattheo tries to bribe the tiny human into loving him more.

and mattheo riddle is a creative man, you see; bribe is not just made with money, no, no. bribe comes in various ways:

demanding to be the one to mostly change the baby's diapers, so that mattheo could have more time alone with them, to manipulate that little brain to find it easier to babble the letter 'p' instead of 'm'— and one day, he might oh-so-dramatically say that he was the one to bear with the smell, who had to do the dirty work of changing diapers! because this being said, he deserves more acknowledgement, seriously!

encouraging this tiny human to talk. and when i say encouraging, i mean that mattheo indulges all those gibberish as if they were proper words, ones that mattheo assures to understand, and so mattheo and the tiny human engage a serious conversation. when the baby is quiet (which is rare), mattheo disturbs the peace and quiet, so that he can trick the tiny human into saying that simple, easy word. 'paaaaaa.... paaaa... papa. paaaa! pa!' he sing-songs.

by playing so much with the baby, be it with the amount of toys they have on their nursery, or by tickling, making sounds, already teaching the tiny human how to throw punches (just like his father! 🎀)— mattheo believes that he's associating himself to the feeling of having fun. so if not him, who else would they call for?! (you. because you're the most amazing mother, and mattheo knows that; he tells you that every night, so proud of this beloved family of his.)

another silly thing he does is pronouncing the word 'papa' really slowly, mouthing with such a dramatic and exaggerated movements, that it always makes you laugh when you testify it. however, when mattheo points at you, he says the word 'mama' in a faster way, purposefully making it sound very confusing for the little human on his arms.

and when you caught mattheo doing all of these things, so that he gets to be called by this baby of yours first— well, mattheo is already expecting a lighthearted slap on the nape of his neck, but oh well, the punishment and the effort are worth the prize.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻’

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm on a huge slytherin boys brainrot. no, seriously, i have so many drafts about headcanons and drabbles about them; the comments and reposts of theo's drabble melted me into a puddle, i swear. :( tysm!

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#theodore nott #mattheo riddle #hp fanfic #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott dating #headcanons #theo nott headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle headcanons #fluff #dating #slytherin boys react #hp drabble

[tnt-kokoo]

Best friend

pairing: Alexis Ness × fem!reader

summary: After befriending Ness even after getting warned that he was 'weird', he started to develop feelings and a slight obsession.

warnings: a little stalking, obsession, bullying, MANGA SPOILER (kinda but still), No kaiser in this

"Leave him alone?!" A small spoke as the German boy got bullied by his classmates again. The voice belonged to the new girl in school, you. You were around 6 and yet so brave.

Ness looked up and saw you walking towards the little group that formed around the poor boy. He was amazed by how fearless you were. While you were arguing to the bullys his eyes couldn't help but widen as they finally decided to leave Ness alone to avoid having to argue further.

The boy was looking at you like you were his hero, what you clearly were. He really wanted to repay your kindness to help him. So that's why, after all these years after you saved him, he stood by your side.

Ness liked to look back at the day you two met. He thought of it as some sort of fate. And you saving him bonded your twos souls together, so how could he ever leave you after that? It's not like he ever thought of leaving either. He enjoyed his life to the fullest with you. You were always there to listen to his problems about his strict family and how he should stop liking all that 'childish fantasy stuff'. He was alwady there for you, as you were for him and nothing could change that and even when the two of you parted, Ness somehow managed to convince (threatened) people to either change with him to partner with you, or just simply went to you before anyone else could.

He was always with you.

Growing up you came to see how much football means for Ness and that it's something that his family can't take away from him. You couldn't help but feel sad when he was doubting himself, but after you looked into his eyes and told him that you'd be his number one fan he was over the moon and felt his heart beat faster (something he only ever experienced with you).

Today was the day where his school football team went against another school. You could feel how anxious Ness got. He didn't wanted to disappoint his team, school and especially not you. So when the students were all seated down and the players got changed into their school match uniform, you went down to where your best friend hid.

Putting a hand on top of his shoulder pulled the purple eyed boy out of his self doubt as he looked up into your warm eyes. He could feel himself fall for you every time he looked into your eyes whole you gave him that smile that said 'don't worry, I will be here'. Oh man, he loved you.

With new motivation he stood up and walked towards the field.

____________________________________________

After the game, Ness couldn't wait to talk to you again, maybe you woudk hug him, maybe even kiss. He was so sure you were proud of him. After all, all the goals he made were only for you.

You must know that, right?

Ofcourse he couldn't go back to his beloved still smelling like sweat so he choose to take a quick shower.

After getting out of the shower, he practically ran to find you like a dog searching its owner and when he did find you, he saw a player from the other school trying to flirt with you.

'Who does he think he is??'

Walking closer he started to hear him talk to you.

"....honestly think you deserve better." The guy said smirking when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around he saw the German boy and his smirk grew, "Just who I was talking about. Why would you willingly stay with that lose-" Ness pushed him away and he stumbled. Your old friend held your hand and pulled you with him away from that guy. He really wanted to hurt him but he couldn't...not with you here atleast. He would never want to ruin your view on him. He wanted to stay forever your favorite and only boyfriend bestfriend.

"Are you okay, y/n?? He didn't do anything right?? RIGHT??" He looked like he would lose it in just seconds if you wouldn't answer him.

"Don't worry Alexis, nothing happened." You calmed him down by putting both of your hands on his shoulder and pulled him closer to embrace him. "You did so well I the game by the way." You smiled at him as he could feel his heart explode. His head fell on your own shoulder as he could smell your perfume that he just so loved.

____________________________________________

Hours later when the sun went down and the moon took over the sky, Ness was still outside walking... and following.

He wouldn't have done this if the guy earlier wasn't so stupid to try something with you. He knew that Ness liked you so why even try.

Following behind the player, he got slowly closer and closer to him as he finally was close enough to pull him into an ally and hold him up against a wall. "Leave Y/n alone." The guy finally nodded at Ness as a way to show that he understood.

With the threat and the slight choking the player, Ness walked away and made his way to a house he knew all too well. Yours.

____________________________________________

ᯓᝰ Okokk that's the chapter

-I will also update the chigiri file a bit later, I I thinking about tmmr (Hopefully) 😭 also, I had my communication exam in French today and got a 2 lol

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x female reader #ness alexis #alexis ness #ness x reader #Ness x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you

[yuri-is-online]

Sorry for making you explain all the yutus but can you do Jades? Bros gotta be so overprotective 😬

Jokes on you I am always down to talk about Jade Leech (my beloved)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. I think I typed up way more for this than anyone else up to this point, I'd apologize but it has been a second since I brain rotted about Jade, so excuse me for feeding myself (づ_ど)

Put yourself in Jade's shoes for a second.  He is a merfolk from the coral sea, only able to appear human through the use of a potion but still retaining his inhuman features.  He tries hard to appear human, he goes to a boot camp where so many things have to be explained that he is able to mimic but doesn't fully understand.  There's no reason for you to like him, he knows that better than anyone; he doesn't fully understand why he's attracted to you himself but he is.  And he longed after you for so long, he was drowning in his desire that had such a little chance of being reciprocated but by some miracle it was.  You stay in Twisted Wonderland, you let him take you under the sea and agree to be kept there.  You're going to give him a family, he's beyond excited and filled with feelings of love he didn't think he'd ever get to have.

And then it's gone.  There's no evidence as to why, no one to tell him where you went.  Azul starts off confident, excited at the prospect of revenge and encouraging Jade.  They'll find them, between him, Jade, and Floyd they'll find Yuu and someone will have a very bad day.  But there's nothing, they're being lied to and stonewalled at every turn and when finally (it's been 10 months 3 weeks and two days, he could count down to the hours and seconds but who would listen?) Riddle of all people contacts them with a lead, he's dead almost immediately.  Turned into a phantom, all of those friends of yours he was so jealous of too… no one is telling him but he knows.  You're not coming back, he's never going to meet your child, he failed at a moray's one job of protecting his cleaner shrimp.  When he's alone he talks to you both sometimes, nights when you can see the stars are becoming increasingly rare as the sky flares up with ink but he likes to think you found your way up to the sky.  

When he loses Floyd and Azul he sort of loses his will to live.  The only thing that keeps him going is the promise of one day being able to lay them both to rest eventually, but until then he bar tends at NRC and listens to all the little things people talk about when the world is ending. If he was in a better place he'd probably find it funny how lose people's lips are getting, Azul’s business would be doing so well if he were here now…

That's what he's doing one day in September when one of the mage students runs up to him out of breath, Sherish he thinks her name is?  

“The headmage needs you in the hospital wing!”  She sounds scared, out of breath like she's run the whole way and Jade is just curious enough to go.  Something spurs him on to run himself, through the mirror and into the wing and-  

He doesn't even hesitate, his body acts before his brain does launching him towards you and grasping desperately at your hands.  They're cold, you're going cold and he doesn't have the warmth in his body to give you.  Something has mercy on him and let's your eyes open just the bit as you reach just as desperate to be close to him as he is to you and he feels your strength pass into him.  

“Don't apologize.”  He manages to whisper.  

“But I'm sorry.”  You cry.  “I love you so much and I couldn't forget even though they wanted me to.”  

“Who did this.  Who took you just name them and I promise you my pearl-”  he gets to kiss you one more time before your gone.  Jade doesn't move, he thinks Crewel is yelling for his attention but he can't move, he wants to stay here forever he has to protect you, why wasn't he able to protect you?!

“Oh holy fuck that tastes bad.”  There's a dazed voice Jade has never heard before, heavy with sorrow, and though he doesn't quite have it yet, Jade feels purpose begin to return to his heart.

Jade! Yutu is a menace.  I like the idea of him being some form of punk or goth, with piercings and a few tattoos that Yuu doesn't know anything about.  He grew up with a small group of close knit alt friends who would come over to Yuu's house and shoot the shit.  Yuu was really popular with Yutu's friends actually, he had mixed feelings about that. (No, his parent isn't accepting step-father applications, Joshua, keep running your mouth and see what happens)

Has a mixed ranged of emotions about his parent's amnesia. When he was younger not knowing who his dad was made him really sad, he'd listen to other kids talk about doing things with their fathers and he'd dream about doing them with his dad, but the picture was always blurry and felt just... wrong somehow. As he gets older and starts forming his world view he starts to think his dad might have left Yuu for any number of reasons. Did it happen before or after their amnesia, that's what he wants to know.

He has a pretty big problem with authority, residual trauma from the trip across worlds he thinks now… but back in your world he just didn't see the point of respecting someone just because they have more money and power than him.  Almost everyone does, that doesn't make them special!  But he's so sneaky about it, if it weren't for his clothes or his friends Yuu would hardly know what he gets up to in his spare time. It put a bit of strain on their relationship, Yutu sees his lies as something he does to protect his parent, while Yuu sees themselves as well.  A parent.  Who is the one who should be protecting their child not the other way around.  

When he tries to pull similar stunts with Original Timeline! Jade he gets a rude awakening. He tries sneaking out to meet up with some friends only to find his dad sitting with them, polite smile on his face clearly reveling in how awkward he is making this.  Oya, did Yutu think he was being slick?  He's hurt, no really this is the first time Jade has had to fake cry in years, he'd almost forgot how.  Didn't Yutu ever wonder where he got this from?  Because he had to know it wasn't Yuu.

Jade! Yutu also played in a band in middle school and also played bass, it just wasn't a jazz trio or an upright bass.  He would have liked continued to play in bands, but he shares his dad's issues with stage fright which makes it sort of difficult. He has tried his hand at writing his own music from time to time, but he's waaaaay too shy to ever play it for anyone other than the woods.

He really likes horror stories and cryptids, so he wasn't super afraid of the monsters when he first arrived in Twisted Wonderland.  One round with Phantom Riddle changed that nonchalant attitude quick, and while he still is very attached to the stuff he read about back in your world he hates blot monsters and Twisted Wonderland fiends in general.

Speaking of those monsters, Jade hates Yutu fighting them.  Father and son are an absolute nightmare for Crewel to deal with, one is threatening to drown him if Yutu is allowed to fight, the other is screaming curse words and saying it doesn't matter what Crewel does, he's going anyway.  He needs a drink (but not from Jade's bar he's going to get poisoned) 

I don't think Yutu actually told Jade he was planning on going back in time because he was angry and just assumed that he would try and stop him.  He's really proud of himself for the first few weeks he spends in the past thinking he got one over on his old man finally (he didn't, but he did hurt him quite a bit), but the more he interacts with the younger version of his parents the more he starts to regret that decision.

Past Jade is so… fun.  He thinks his dad is fun?!  His weird obsession with mushrooms was never something they talked about beyond a few compliments his dad gave to a mushroom patch he had on his jacket; watching his old man prattle on now he never would have guessed any of this.  Yutu never doubted that Jade loved you, but he didn't really think about what that looked like, or what you might have meant to Jade.  They just didn't talk about it, now that he's forced to think about it Jade was probably trying to focus on having him back and how lucky he was to even have that.  And instead of being honest about how angry he was to have lost you he lied and said he was fine.  With how good his dad was at knowing when he was lying Jade had to know that's how he felt, but respected his boundaries and didn't push. All those comments about being there when he's ready to talk, all the times Jade said he loved him, and those long nights he watched from afar as Jade sat with tea next to your grave, just talking to you as if you were still there are put into context. Yutu isn't able to sleep for a few nights after that.

Jade finds Yutu interesting.  He's a potential source of information about Yuu, a lot of his quirks remind him of himself and he finds the new kids blatant disrespect for authority to be hilarious! And hilariously good blackmail material, now now don't be afraid he really is just here to help...

"Nice try old man you won't pull shit out of me." Yutu sounds smug, but Jade knows when his spell has worked and when it hasn't; how delightful he doesn't seem to remember someone ever being so cocky about it before.

"That's a shame." He makes sure to make his face fall to keep the new kid off his guard as he continues his questioning. "It's just I am curious where did you come from? I thought Yuu's world doesn't have magic."

"I mean it doesn't, probably never would have been able to come back in time if I was still stuck there." Yutu blinks, clarity starting to come into view as Jade pushes through the surprise to ask a final question.

"Oya? And just why did you come back in time, were you worried about Yuu?"

"Of course I'm worried about my parent what sort of stupid question is-" Yutu returns to himself and treats Jade to a look of shock so rare and downright delightful he can't help but smile himself. "Hey just what did you do?"

Old man? What a disrespectful thing to call his father, no wonder his future self never told his son about his unique magic. Jade doesn't have time to doubt his affections for Yuu, once Yutu realizes he's fucked and can't get out of admitting that was the truth he tells Jade who he is and a bit about what the future is like. Jade can tell he's keeping a few details back, but he knows himself well enough to know that everything Yutu is describing would have changed him to a degree that he might not have been in the best mental space to help his son through the loss of Yuu.

Speaking of Yuu, Jade asks Yutu to keep his existence to himself for a bit. He wants to win over your affections without the help of the future looming in your thoughts, he only gets to have this part of his life with you once and he intends to savor it. But the confidence boost he gets from knowing you do end up as his mate does have him acting a bit goofy for a bit. Floyd and Azul are legitimately scared.

They are brought up to speed as Jade insists on introducing Yutu to them "properly" and he is every inch the proud father showing off their new baby to the relatives even though Yutu is practically his height and has a bunch of piercings. Floyd takes a liking to him immediately while Azul is a bit more awkward, not that he doesn't like Yutu he's just a lot different from anyone Azul has ever met before so he's unsure how to sell himself. Luckily he doesn't have to because Yutu appreciates his genuine self just like Floyd, Jade, and Yuu do.

Jade gladly invites Yutu to join the Mountain Lover's Club and is very excited when he says yes. Yutu finds a lot of enjoyment in helping his dad work mushrooms into Azul and Floyd's food by pretending to agree with their complaints. Floyd is so mad he calls Yuu and tells them to come get their kid.

The over protectiveness doesn't end exactly, but Yutu is more willing to understand and Jade is more able to explain himself. They're both extremely protective of Yuu and in sound agreement that nothing like Yutu's future can ever be allowed to come to pass. Jade wanted a family, so to learn that he got that and someone took it away from him? Future him was overwhelmed with grief but current him is overwhelmed with rage. Remember book four? He described what he would do to someone who betrayed him, and it wasn't pretty. His plans for whoever did this to his precious mate and child is going to get so much worse.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu

[actuallysaiyan]

Waiting For The Miracle(Villain!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

I dreamed about you, baby It was just the other night

Let's see if we're that strong Yeah let's do something crazy, Something absolutely wrong

warnings: Dark themes, murder, violence, abuse, blood, smut, unprotected sex, weapons, swearing, choking, rough sex, Yandere themes pairings: Villain!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader word count: 3.5k summary: Nanami Kento has a rage that builds deep inside of him for years. The minute he finds out that you are the victim of abuse, he snaps...and what ensues is the madness that you both descend into. taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @benkeibear @namikyento @adharadotcom @anonimusunnoaniswriting @erebus-et-eigengrau

I cannot stress this enough, this is a VERY VERY VERY VERY dark piece of writing. I do not condone these actions, but I just want everyone to know that this isn't for the faint of heart. If you cannot deal with any of the warnings mentioned above, please you should skip this. Heavily inspired by the film Natural Born Killers.

Nanami was outraged. He’s been holding these feelings deep inside of himself for years. They threatened to spill over so many times, but he was so good at keeping himself in check. So many times he clenched his fist and bit his tongue. Losing his best friend and watching his upperclassman defect, it made the fire deep in the pit of his belly become even more heated.

Kento took lots of comfort in knowing he always had you. You, the bright eyed smiling girl of his dreams. You worked hard to become a sorcerer that was at his own level. Both of you became Grade One sorcerers in no time. But what Kento never knew was that you were hiding your own secret. He had no idea that you harbored just as much pain as he did. Maybe you harbored even more pain than him.

For years, you endured the abuse of your family. The minute they found out that you could see curses and that you weren’t just mentally ill, they found it so repulsive to keep you around. During the summer vacation, you always wished you could go somewhere else but home. They tried to hide you like some dirty secret, but you always found solace in coming to school.

Meeting Kento and Haibara has been your saving grace. Having two best friends who would do absolutely anything for you made you feel like a normal person. It’s why you hid your secret from them for years. Neither of them had any idea that your family was treating you like some sort of pariah.

After the loss of your sweet friend Yu Haibara, something broke deep inside of Nanami. You watched him shift from calm and collected to sullen and deep inside himself. Then both of you felt so helpless losing Suguru as well. You, Satoru and Kento tried to pick up the pieces, but it all just seemed to be too hard. Gojo became too strong for any of you to match him, and Kento grew increasingly angry at the world.

It started with one mission gone wrong. Kento found himself in a conundrum where he could save someone at the cost of losing the curse. The curse taunted him one too many times, and so he allowed the victim to be hurt to be able to exorcize the curse. 

The blood that splattered from the victim ended up on Kento’s face. He shuddered at the way it suddenly excited him. His eyes rolled back and he smeared that blood. The victim watched in horror before their life was snuffed out. He used his Ratio technique, hitting them right in their weakest point.

From that moment on, Kento finds himself growing addicted to the spilled blood. He knows it’s wrong to allow innocent people to die, but he also knows he can’t stop the anger that fuels him. He’s gone too far down this path, and he doesn’t think he could ever deviate from it.

So the moment he found out that your family had been abusing you, Kento grew even more angry. It was like his whole body was crying out to end this madness. You were his everything. The apple of his eye. His sweet angel. He knew he’d kill for you if he had to. And he would stop at nothing to keep you safe…

It’s late one night when he knocks on the door of your family home. You open it to see him, and you swear you’ve never seen this look in his eyes. It’s pure rage that you can see. It excites you in a way that is confounding and eerily comforting. 

“Are you home alone?” he asks, his fists shaking from being clenched so hard. 

“N-no.” You reply in a quiet voice. 

You know that you shouldn’t let him in, but you feel it in your heart that this could be your way out. As you shut the door behind him, you hear your father calling out from his spot on the couch.You wished that he would just leave you alone for once in your life. 

“Who the fuck is here?”

You shudder and cower when you hear that tone of his voice. Tears sting your eyes, and Kento is quick to notice the way you’re reacting to this. He gently cups your face in his hands and he leans in closer.

“I’m here to deliver you from this pain,”

His words make your heart skip a beat. Your eyes widen and you try to understand just exactly what he means when he says he’s going to deliver you from this pain. What does he plan to do? Your heart races as you watch Nanami pull the carrying case from his back and unsheathes his blunt blade.

“K-Kento, what are you—”

But you’re interrupted by your father coming in to investigate what’s going on. His eyes narrow at the blond standing in front of you. You can tell your father is beyond pissed off at this point. You make no move to intervene.

“I knew it! You really just let any man into this house,” your father spits out. “Who’s this scumbag anyway?”

Kento sneers, “You’re never putting your hands on her ever again.”

Your father is about to laugh in his face, but you watch in surprise as Kento uses his ratio technique on your father. There’s a split second where your father doesn’t quite realize what’s just happened. Then the blood begins to gush from his throat.

You blink and squeal in surprise when some of the blood splatters on your face. With shaking hands, you try to wipe it off your face. Yet all you manage to do is smear it, and just like Kento some time ago, something changes inside of you. You look at the man you love.

“You…you killed him,” you say in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I did it for you. Nothing’s going to take you away from me. Never again,”

Kento wraps his arms around you, ignoring the gurgling noises that your dying father makes. Then you feel Kento’s lips on yours in such a heated kiss. Neither of you know where this passion has come from, but it feels like it’s growing with every second.

“I don’t know why you hid this from me,” Kento says as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I was ashamed. I was scared you wouldn’t see me the same way.”

Kento growls, “You are my one and only, do you understand me?”

You’re about to reply when a blood-curdling scream interrupts you both. Your mother is pointing at you, trying to convince you to move away from Kento. Then her eyes widen in horror as she sees the blood splattered and smeared on your own face. You begin to laugh as she’s piecing it all together.

“Oh sweet mother of mine,” you coo mockingly. “How many times did I ask for your help or for you to lay off me?”

“I-I-I-” she tries to get the words out, but she’s so terrified.

“I-I-I…what? You’re too scared to fucking talk to me now? After all this fucking bullshit?!” You cry out. 

Then you grab Kento’s blunt blade, imbuing it in your own cursed energy. It glimmers with red energy, pulsing and glowing. You spin it around, catching it with a scary precision. 

“Go on, darling. Show her just how strong and powerful you are,” Kento coaxes you, knowing you’ll do what you need to.

Your eyes flare with rage as your mother begins trying to reason with you. She tells you that she never meant to hurt you. She gets down on her knees and begins to beg for forgiveness. You slowly slide the blunt blade down her cheek, making a cut from the imbued cursed energy.

“What kind of mother hurts her own flesh and blood?” you ask her, tears in your eyes. “What kind of mother lets her little baby become the victim of years of abuse?”

Your mother tries to defend herself, but it’s too late. Kento watches you proudly as you slash the blade. Blood pours out of her wound, and she grasps at her neck pathetically.

“You let him hurt me for years. You let my own father— you let him touch me. You let him do anything he wanted, and all you did was watch.” You finally tell her.

You hand Kento his blade back, and he can see it on your face. You never knew that you’d be capable of doing something like this. But after being hurt so deeply by the two people who were supposed to protect you and raise you, your heart had been filled with so much rage.

“You’re free now,” he whispers softly before kissing you.

“We’re free.”

You hold his hand, and he leads you out of the house. You look at your childhood home one last time before Kento lights a match and throws it at the building. It goes up in flames within seconds, making you cheer loudly. 

Then he guides you to the car he managed to acquire. You jump into the passenger side, and Kento gets behind the wheel. He starts it up, winking at you. You never knew you could feel so liberated in your entire life.

With the music cranked up, Kento drives you far far away from all of this…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

In the hotel room, Kento’s hands are all over you. After a long shower to clean the blood from your skin, you feel new. He kisses you hungrily. His tongue wrestles with yours for dominance, his saliva filling your mouth sweetly. You moan at the taste of your lover. When he pulls away you watch the strings of spit keeping you both connected.

“You’re my angel,” he whispers gruffly. “Nobody will ever take you away from me.”

Your eyes widen, “Nobody will ever take you away from me either.”

His hands pin your wrists above your head. You let out such a cute moan for him as his knee spreads your legs. Kento’s eyes are alight with passion as he leans in to kiss you once more. Your lips meld together with heat and desire. Your whole body shudders as he tightens his grip on your wrists.

“I fuckin’ mean it, angel. Nobody’s taking you away from me,”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice. His words are genuine and true. He’d do anything to keep you safe. One of his hands comes up to your throat, squeezing just a little to have you gasp for him.

“You are all mine,” he growls in your ear. Then he squeezes your throat harder. “I’d rather fucking die than to be on this earth without you.”

You let out a strangled moan as you feel his hand dragging down your naked body. He smirks as he tweaks one of your nipples, then the other. Then he presses a kiss to your breast, his teeth gently biting down on it. 

“Shit!” you cry out, your hands gripping his hair.

Nanami chuckles darkly as he licks the deep bite mark he’s left on your sensitive flesh.His eyes flicker up at you as his large, calloused hands cup your breasts. You let out passionate gasps and whimpers as he begins to suckle on your nipples. His teeth graze them, making you jolt into his touch.

Eventually he gets fed up with waiting. He spreads your thighs wide, spitting onto your already wet cunt. Using two fingers, he smears your arousal and his spit all over your weeping hole. Then he stuffs you full of his fingers, making you buck up.

“That’s it,” he coaxes you. “Think you’re ready for me?”

His cock rests against your mound and he pulls his fingers out of your cunt. You nod eagerly, begging for him. With one fluid movement, Kento bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, slamming into you over and over.

The air from your lungs is forced out, making you gasp and pant from the intense pleasure. You’ve never seen him look at you like this. It’s like he’s trying to bound your souls together. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down with each harsh thrust. 

“Don’t worry about anything,” Kento growls against your ear. “Never going to let anyone touch my fuckin’ angel ever again.”

You cling to him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. “I love you so much. I never want to let you go.”

Kento picks up his pace, nibbling at your neck. With every thrust, he tells you about how he’s never letting anyone come near you anymore. You’re always going to be right by his side where you belong.

“You belong to me, and only me…” he pushes his cock deeper inside of you.

The coil inside of you snaps and your orgasm comes crashing down over you. You cry out, your nails digging deep into the muscles of Nanami’s well-toned back.

“Fuck that’s it,” Nanami grunts as his hips go faster. “Good girl, my good girl.”

He grips you even harder, his fingertips surely going to leave bruises into your skin. His eyes are boring into yours, a flame of desire building between the two of you. It’s going to consume you both.

“Nobody’s taking my baby away from me!” Thrust. “All mine, you got it?!” Thrust. “Gonna claim you and keep you safe!” Thrust.

And with the final thrust, his cock is nestled bruisingly against your cervix. Shots of his thick potent cum begin filling your awaiting womb. You let out another sweet cry of love, making Nanami growl loudly.

“Mine!”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The days and weeks that follow are a whirlwind of pain, pleasure and killing. You and Nanami find yourselves unable to contain the bloodlust that seems to have infected the two of you. The rage that built so deep inside both of you has become uncontainable. It grew so fast.

Each and every little village you go to, you find yourselves unable to stop killing. With you seducing the worst types of people, Nanami is right there ready to attack them. Doesn't matter if they are men or women, you two get your fix together.

One night you’re in a small bar together, enjoying each other’s company. To anyone looking at you, nobody would be able to tell you’re the infamous curse users. Nobody knows who you two are. 

The music starts up on the jukebox and your eyes light up with excitement. You get up from your seat, getting closer to the source of the music. 

“This is my favorite song!” You exclaim, losing yourself to the music.

Nanami watches you, his eyes full of nothing but pure love. This soon turns into something else as a few men begin to take notice of you. His eyes are narrow and precise as one of these scumbags approaches you and tries to place his hand on you.

“Hey fuckface! I’m just tryin’ to dance here!” You spit out, pushing him off of you.

“What’s your fucking problem!? Stupid cunt!”

He’s about to hit you, when you slam him into the wall. The man’s eyes are wide as he notices how you are much stronger than you appear. Everyone is looking at the display, but Nanami’s got his eyes locked on just you. He thinks to himself how proud he is that you’re his girl.

“Now, now…let’s settle this calmly, little miss.”

You spit in the man’s face, “I told you, I was just dancing. You’re the one who got fucking handsy with me!”

The man’s eyes widen when he sees you pulling back his fist. Nobody in the bar can see the cursed energy imbued in your fist. The guy tries to reason with you, but it’s much too late when your hand connects with his fist. Everyone screams in horror as the blood comes flying out of the guy’s nose and eyes.

“Holy fuck!” Someone from the crowd exclaims.

Before anyone else can do anything, you watch as your true love pulls the blunt blade from his harness concealed beneath the cream blazer. Everyone watches you both as you begin attacking the people in the bar.

“Think you can just watch as a couple of scumbags try to take advantage of a young woman?” Kento asks the scared patrons. “Is this really what you want to see happen right in front of your eyes? How disgusting!”

One of the men comes over and tries to reason with him, which makes Nanami swing his blade while pairing it with the Ratio technique. You squeal in delight as you watch your lover dispatch these evil people.

Soon it turns into an all-out brawl. The bar was packed with so many people, and here you and Nanami are trying to teach them all a lesson. All you wanted was a night out for fun, but they showed you their ugly side. 

“Don’t even think about touching my pretty little angel,” Nanami sneers as he grabs someone by the back of their neck.

And he holds the person steady for you, causing you to use your cursed energy to set their nerves alight. They foam at the mouth from the intense shock to their system. Their eyes flutter shut, and then you strike them with your fist.

The last person alive is a writer named Genevieve. She pleads for her life, telling you she’s nothing but a lowly writer. You look over at your lover, smirking playfully. Then Kento sheathes his blunt blade back into the holster.

“Take your swing, honey.”

The last thing the writer sees is your fist coming straight for her face…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The car slows down on an empty bridge. You’ve been driving for a long time. Kento looks at you when he cuts the engine. Then he gets out of the car, coming around to open your door. He takes your hand in his, leading you towards the railing.

“Look at that beautiful river,” Kento whispers in your ear. “The water flows endlessly…just like our love.”

Your pupils are blown wide with love. Kento cups your face gently, kissing you so tenderly. It’s been such a wild ride already, but you’re ready to continue this life with him. You know you’d happily die for him. You’d happily kill for him again and again and again…

“Let’s do this properly, yeah?”

You nod your head. Kento leads you back to the car and you gather up some stuff from your past life. He helps you push it off the side of the bridge. Mementos, pieces of clothing you’d never wear again and even family photos scatter in the water.

“Goodbye bitch,” you say to your former self. “I’m a free woman now!”

You climb onto the railing, raising your arms up and letting out a loud cry. Kento looks at you like you strung the stars in the sky just for him. He places his hand protectively on your back, keeping you steady.

“Let’s get married,” Kento finally announces.

You look back at him, your eyebrow cocked when you finally take in what he’s just said. You laugh wildly.

“Right here? I mean…we got no priest. No officiator. No church…no temple.”

Kento helps you down onto your feet, pulling you into his arms. Your face nuzzles in the crook of your neck as he begins to play with your hair. He then leans in to whisper in your ear, his voice deep and full of desire.

“No need for any of those things. Our church is right here. We are our own officiators. Our own redeemers.”

You look deeply into his eyes, your heart thumping wildly in your ribcage like the wings of a hummingbird. Then you nod, unable to properly form the words just yet as you are overwhelmed with so much happiness.

“Give me your hand,” Nanami asks, and you do as he says.

You watch as he pulls a small buck knife. Then he makes a small incision in his hand. You gasp when you feel the cold metal on your palm next, whining softly from the pain. Then Kento clasps your hands together, holding it out over the flowing river.

“There we go,” he whispers huskily. “Now we’re husband and wife.”

You tear up, “Y-yeah! Yeah we are!”

Kento then uses his other hand to cup your face. He kisses you with all the love he can muster. Then he leans his forehead against yours, keeping your hands together and dripping blood into the river.

“And there we go…flowing in all the rivers and oceans and lakes and seas of the world. We’re everywhere all at once.”

You look into his eyes, then you wrap your arms around him completely, kissing him so sweetly. You never knew that life could be so free. You know that things aren’t going to be the most normal with this relationship, but you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

“I love you forever, Kento.” 

He smiles, “And I love you forever, darling.”

#bacon.writes #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #yandere!Nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami #nanami kento

[goingmerryfics]

Law x mute S/O?

(Also love your fics <3)

Mute/Selectively Mute S/O w/ Law

Content: Gender neutral reader & SFW, Corazon mentions so spoilers for Law's backstory

Notes* I started writing for this, thought I was done, then came back to add more things because I remembered that Law used to know someone who was selectively mute…

Law

The minute he met you, he would want to know if your condition was something medical related. Whether selectively mute or not, he'd immediately be interested in finding out if there was a medical or psychological reason for you to be unable to speak

He may come off as insensitive because of this, but he doesn't mean to, and he would quickly apologize if you indicated that he'd insulted you

Speaking of insensitive, Shachi and Penguin try endlessly to ‘trick’ you into speaking

Even if you try to explain that you physically can't speak, they think it's a challenge

Bepo wouldn't mind, he'll chat away and appreciate that you're a good listener

Either way, Law knows sign language and he communicates with you that way if you are able to understand it. Being a doctor, he tries to have all his bases covered if there's ever an emergency with someone that can't talk

Otherwise he always keeps a notepad and pen on him if you need to talk to him

He may be a grump, but he's patient and understanding. He finds ways for you to communicate that work the best for you, especially for missions where he can't keep an eye on you

Best believe that if there was a way to cure you, he'd make that a top priority. If it was medical, he's got that down

But if it's related to anxiety or PTSD or stress, he'd take care to be more cautious around you to try and help you open up a little easier. He's not on you all the time in full therapy mode, it's actually the opposite. He gives you the space you need to choose to speak when you're ready.

He's at peace with knowing that he will/may never hear you talk, but in his opinion, your voice doesn't matter as much as the rest of you does

If you do have the ability to speak though, you would eventually find him working away in his office as usual

You smooth your hands over his shoulders and lean down to kiss his cheek, and he sighs out his tension and smiles a bit

“Are you trying to convince me to take a break?” He shifts so he can get a good look at you and kiss your cheek

You whisper that you miss him and even though his eyes widen, he doesn't want to spook you by making it a big deal that you spoke.

It's easier to pull him out of his chair that day and drag him to bed so he can rest his eyes

Spoilers below

Even though you'd spoken once, that doesn't mean you'll do it again and he understands that- but as time goes on, creeping memories begin to surface and haunt him

You weren't that similar to Cora, but the muteness was starting to remind him of the man he'd lost long ago, and slowly he starts to feel like maybe this was a sign that he was cursed and might lose you, too

All of the sudden, his plans against Doflamingo don't involve you anymore

He's stuffed himself in his office more, researching your condition and trying to come up with some sort of cure or treatment

He's so worried about losing you that he doesn't realize he's losing time with you

He's started to avoid you, finding it hard to stay around you when he's this anxious about your fate

Eventually you get him to open up about it and he does so teary eyed, but after a long conversation he agrees to relax a little and you assure him that you're not going anywhere

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #trafalgar law #law one piece #op law #harleyasks #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar op #trafalgar one piece #one piece spoilers #one piece x reader

[madaqueue]

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 9

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, smut. kissing, praise, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.6k

a/n: y'all idk what happened i swear i was in heat or smthn writing these last two chapters i promise we'll get back to plot soon enough

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You awake the next morning to Satoru softly snoring, his arms wrapped around your body and your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Tilting your head up at him, he looks truly angelic: the sunlight casting a glow over his white hair like a halo, his face flushed a soft pink in sleep, his lips parted ever so slightly through peaceful breaths.

Almost as though he could sense you, his eyes flutter open, long eyelashes batting against sleep as his gaze focuses on you.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he purrs through his low morning voice, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you closer to him.

“Morning, ‘Toru,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his warm cheek.

The two of you have shared a few mornings together, but always in the unfamiliar setting of a hotel room, never daring to stay at your homes. And yet, here he is, in your bed, looking more perfect than ever.

His free hand reaches across you to run through your hair, stroking your head while you lean into him. The arm that wrapped around your body moves to your hip, inching further down ever so slightly.

Seeing you like this, all cozy and warm, waking up in the morning sun, does something to him: he simply can’t help himself when you look so sweet. In the past when you’ve spent the night with one another he’s planned something early the next morning, whether it be breakfast, picnics, massages, or any other way he could think to pamper you. Yet, today, your only responsibility is to soak in each other’s presence. He smiles to himself, knowing he can take his time.

Burying his head into your shoulder, he kisses along your neck. The faint scent of vanilla hangs on your skin, drawing him in as he nuzzles his face further into you. While he starts with soft, fluttering motions, they quickly become rougher as he sucks and nips against your skin with enough force to leave pretty little bruises.

“‘Toru?” you try to stifle your moan at the sensation through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

“You just look so pretty,” he coos.

Before you can quip at his non-explanation, you feel his fingertips brush between your legs, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

However, his hand stills with nothing more than a faint glide over your panties. You whine at the lack of stimulation, moving your hips down to try and grind against his palm.

He chuckles at the action. “So needy already? You went months without me, and now can’t even go a few seconds?”

You want to taunt him, glare at him, prove him wrong, but your body has other plans. Instead, you just continue attempting to get any sort of friction from his hand, imprecisely rubbing against him.

Pulling away, he shifts so he’s looking down at you through his long white eyelashes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not that cruel. All you have to do is ask,” he smirks, knowing how much he loves to hear you beg for him.

“P-please,” you whisper, voice shaky as you squirm in his hold.

He cocks his head to the side. “Please what?”

Trying to roll your eyes sarcastically, they instead nearly roll back as his thumb presses against your clit.

“More,” the only word you can moan at the sudden pressure.

He sighs through a smile at just how easily you lose yourself under his touch. Of course, he knows he’s not much better - he couldn’t even try to count the number of times you’ve grazed his crotch while on a date and immediately gotten him hard, having to take you to the nearest bathroom to fuck you then and there - but it still makes his heart flutter to see you this needy for him.

“As you wish, princess,” he breathes before roughly inserting two fingers into you. He enters easily, your insides warm and wet, all for him.

Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, his fingertips curling up to that sweet spot that has you seeing stars and makes you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure.

His voice is airy above you as he speaks. “Open your eyes.”

Complying, you are met with the sight of him smiling down at you, his white hair falling over his forehead and nearly covering his blue irises.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, the praise making your cunt flutter around him.

He pumps his hand into you, his slender fingers reaching into deeper places than you ever could. Soft moans and gasps continue to leave your lips as you stare up at him, eyes becoming increasingly glossy as he continues.

While he watches you, a sudden pang of jealousy hits him; he can’t believe he went all those months without this, without you. He’s angry at himself, and angry at anyone else who dared touch you, when you should have been his.

You sense the shift in his demeanor as he gets rougher, faster, his wrist moving irregularly as his palm begins to rub against your clit.

“M-mm, ‘Toru,” you whine, trying to grab his wrist but unable to steady his motions.

“Can anybody else fuck you like I fuck you, hm?” he asks, his voice low and gravely.

Shocked at his question, you try to stutter out an answer. “N-no, no one,” you answer truthfully.

In the time since you met him, the only other person you hooked up with was Toji, and it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as anything with Satoru. He had that tender roughness you loved, the way he always and easily took care of you like it was second nature to him. While you were seeing each other he learned the intricacies of your body, knowing exactly where to kiss, rub, suck, press, to get the sweetest little sounds out of your mouth until you were both left panting messes.

While you were apart, you were only able to think of him on those nights where the throbbing between your legs became overwhelming. You’d think of his hands, his lips, his cock, anything that reminded you of the way he’d bring you wave after wave of pleasure. In fact, the only way you had been able to get yourself off was to imagine his fingers inside of you instead of yours. You couldn’t seem to replicate the way his fingertips pressed into that perfect spot, and having him here now was better than months of your imagination had proved.

Yet, Satoru didn’t know this: all he knows is that he never should have let you go, never should have let you be with anyone else. You were his best, you always would be. And he needed to hear you say it.

“Bet no one else makes you feel this good,” he growls, trying to hide his desperation as he awaits your answer.

You shake your head, biting your teeth into your lower lip as you look up at him with watery eyes. The pressure pooling in your stomach was almost too much to bear as he beckons you closer and closer to your release.

“Say it,” he hisses.

“No one, f-fuck, no one like you,” you choke out through moans. “N-ngh, the best, only finished, a-ah, thinkin’ about you,” you confess.

His eyes light up, sensing the truth in your words. “Yeah?” he whispers breathlessly. The idea makes his cock twitch, knowing that you thought of him just like how he thought of you.

“Mhm,” you nod, trying to cling to the conversation as you feel yourself getting pulled to the edge.

With new fervor, his fingers inside you speed up, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When he feels you begin clenching around him he knows you’re close, and his mouth crashes into yours, locking you into a passionate kiss. Sucking gently on your lower lip, his tongue slides against yours.

Your nails dig into his arms as you feel yourself come undone on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as your vision goes white from pleasure, body shaking beneath his.

He separates his lips and looks down at you as you pant, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air as your head spins from the power of your orgasm.

He grins proudly, recalling your words. “So, you really thought about me when we were apart?”

Thoughts still fuzzy, you can only nod in response, staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes.

“Well in that case, guess I better give you somethin’ else to remember,” his smile becoming more devious as his gaze moves down your body.

Your eyes widening in surprise, you shake your head weakly. “C-can’t, ‘Toru, s’too much.” You still feel spent after last night, but you know that once he starts he can’t stop, especially now that he’s making up for lost time.

Tilting his head mockingly, he coos, “Aw, c’mon now sweetheart, you’re the one who asked for more, remember?” He shifts so his face is above your chest, trailing kisses across your breast as his tongue flicks against your hardened nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “I know you can take it, such a good girl, like always,” he whispers before continuing his path downard, settling between your legs.

His breath is hot against your core as he places his lips teasingly along your inner thighs. Your hands move to his hair, unknowingly pulling him towards you; your mind may not know it, but your body understands it needs him.

A chuckle escapes his lips as he feels you tug him in, his tongue licking a wet stripe up your folds. An unashamed whimper leaves your throat as you arch off the bed, holding him against you as you grind up his face.

“See, ‘knew you wanted more,” he whispers into you.

He once again dives into your sopping cunt, desperate to please you. As he coaxes an immeasurable number of orgasms out of you with his tongue and fingers, he laps up every ounce of your essence, slick coating his mouth and down his chin. He relishes the way you moan each time, chasing the high of hearing his name leaving your lips.

What feels like hours passes with him never relenting until you both are sweaty messes. Your grip in his hair is loose, barely holding onto any piece of reality, when he finally pulls away from you.

He adjusts to lay next to you in bed, taking in the sight of you as he peppers your face with kisses. Your pupils are blown, nearly black from lust, mouth hanging lazily open in a fucked-out grin, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, too weak to wipe it away.

As he looks at you, his heart swells with love - how lucky he is to have you next to him, so content, all thanks to him.

“‘Toru?” you whisper, his name the only word you’d been able to utter, hell, the only thing you’d been able to think, for the past few hours.

He brushes hair off of your forehead as he gently presses his lips against your skin, hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Yes, princess?”

It takes all of your concentration to find the words you want to express, wanting to make him feel as good as you do in this moment. “You didn’t get to finish,” you manage to choke out, voice hoarse from moaning.

Laughing softly at your concern for him, he smiles, continuing to stroke your hair. “It’s my only job to make you happy, don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You pout, knowing that you’d be even happier with his cock down your throat, the desire to please him becoming overwhelming.

He chuckles again until he’s cut short by your hand reaching down, your fingertips gently stroking the underside of his dick as he inhales sharply. “S-shit,” he breathes shakily, not realizing just how sensitive he had become while going down on you.

Looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, your hand grasps weakly around him, gingerly spreading the precum that had pooled at his tip down his length. “Please?” you whisper.

God, he needs you.

Without another word he adjusts in bed, sitting so your head rests against his thigh, his back hot against the cool wood of your headboard.

Now level with his cock, you loll your tongue out, lazily licking up the smeared precum. Parting your lips, you slide his flushed red tip into your mouth, creating a gentle suction against him.

His hands find their way to the back of your head, guiding you further down his length. He’s normally not this needy, this desperate, but with the taste of you lingering on his tongue, the warmth of your mouth around his cock after months without it, he can’t help himself.

When you near his base, he thrusts his hips up into you, pushing his tip to the back of your throat. A helpless whimper escapes his throat at the feeling, holding you in place.

“T-that’s it, just like that, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in response, the vibration along his sensitive cock almost enough to send him over the edge.

Slowly pulling your lips up his length, your tongue slides along him, his legs shaking as the cool air hits the space where your mouth had been.

However, your lack of urgency drove Satoru crazy. “Can I…fuck…” he barely manages to choke out, his entire body begining to tremble from temptation.

Your half-lidded eyes flit up to his, and the sight of you, lips parted around his cock, drool now making its way down your chin, the pure filthy mess you are, makes him shudder.

Understanding what he was asking, that he needs more control, that he needs to fuck your throat, you hum again in confirmation. You barely had the energy to get this far, so it was truly a blessing when he grabs the back of your head and neck, steadying you in place.

He bucks his hips up into you mindlessly, only knowing that he craves the warmth of your mouth. The lewd sound of hills balls smacking against your chin, coated in a mix of saliva and his precum, echoes through your apartment.

The only other sounds are his pathetically sweet whimpers, praises falling from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall. “Takin’ me s’good,” “S’perfect,” “Mouth was made f’me,” the constant stream of words filling the air.

Without warning, his movement stutter as a guttural moan escapes his throat. His whole body trembles as he pumps thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat, holding you against him as you swallow it, grounding yourself to reality as you savor the taste of him.

His shaky hands release their grip on you as he collapses into the pillows, eyes half-open, staring at the ceiling. Your lips finally separate from his cock as you lean up to him, his chest heaving under your hand as you rest your body against his. Your fingers trace along his jawline and he shivers at your touch, opening his eyes slightly more to look down at you.

Both of you now absolutely fucked-out messes, glazed-over eyes scanning each other’s faces as you melt into the bliss of the moment. He kisses you softly, breath still unsteady as his arms loosely wrap around you, holding you to him.

This is what you had been missing for all those months without him - the warmth of his embrace, the tender love, the peace in your heart. As you drift back into exhausted sleep, you hear him whisper something as he places his lips against your forehead, something that sounds an awful lot like “I love you.”

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#q writes #dripping in gold #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[mrsjellymunson]

Turning P!nk

Written for the @steddiemicrofic April prompt ‘Fool’

WC: 454 | Rating: T | CW: none | tags: and then they were roommates, friends to lovers, idiots in love, love confession (sort of), ficlet based on song lyrics

“So if you're too school for cool,

And you're treated like a fool-

Treated like a fool!”

Eddie watches as Steve, in his own world, folds laundry, singing along with one of his favourite tracks. He’s a little flat in places, probably because he’s wearing headphones, but he has a surprisingly nice singing voice, and is even doing the harmonies.

He’s bending his knees and wiggling his shoulders to the beat, but it’s when he starts swinging his hips in time that Eddie nearly loses it.

He’s the fool if he thinks he can carry on like this, sharing an apartment with his friend who he’s developed a massive crush on.

If only there was a way to tell him that didn’t involve, y’know, actually coming out and saying it…

A few weeks later Steve’s come to watch Corroded Coffin at The Hideout. He notices Eddie’s antsier than usual, hands running through and frizzing his hair, a crease between his eyebrows that Steve’s doesn’t often see. Unusually for him, he’s repeatedly checking in with the rest of the band, who are valiantly trying to chill him out, reassuring him that everything will be fine.

The gig goes really well, Eddie looking fantastic on the stage and absolutely killing it. Steve wonders whether he’ll ever get used to that. Seeing Eddie like this always makes him… feel things, things he hasn’t yet allowed himself to properly process.

Steve’s in the crowd, as usual hanging towards the back in his yellow polo so he can avoid the disparaging stares of some of the other patrons and the flailing limbs of the mosh pit.

He’s nodding his head and swaying a little, but he never lets go like he does at home.

They finish their standard set, and along with the rest of the crowd Steve claps and cheers and then starts to move away from the stage.

But to everyone’s surprise they start playing something else, Steve hearing the chords of a song he recognises.

Of course, the style is very different. It’s relentless, driving guitars and Gareth’s thumping drums, but it’s so familiar. And when Eddie starts singing, Steve can’t believe it.

“Right, right, turn off the lights,

We’re gonna lose our minds tonight,

What's the dealio?”

The band gives it their all, but Eddie especially. He’s scanning the crowd, seeking Steve, and when he sees him, laughing and dancing in the middle of the floor and smiling widely because it’s his favourite song, he smiles right back.

And at the end, where they’ve tweaked it so it’s literally just Eddie’s voice on the final two words, he sings them straight at Steve.

“Just come on and come on and, raise your glass,

For me…”

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx

#I may have made myself cry a little #I love them your honour #steddie microfic #steddiemicrofic #steddie microfic April #fool #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #Eddie munson x Steve harrington #prompt challenge #steddie #and then they were roommates #love confession #rockstar!eddie munson #p!nk #p!nk lyrics #Pink #Pink lyrics #raise your glass #ficlet based on a song #steddie minific #steddie ficlet #Spotify

[borzoilover69]

I *need* the 3 paragraph essay on davejake. They give me brainworms, please

Alright here it is, me rambling at length about davejake to some person, now copy pasted on tumblr!

So as you already know (or dont) i often frame dave and jake hanging out as clubbing buddies. That's all there is to their relationship. My personal headcanon is that dave is such a loser postgame. I think he would fall out with karkat because he doesnt know how to clean up after himself and gets more aloof and sort of a jackass down the line (count it on bad parenting!!) and it pisses off karkat so bad they dont have a tumultuous breakup they just sort of fizzle out bcus both of them dont have the balls or the energy to tell the other its over they just sort of stop talking. 

It doesnt just impact his relationship with Karkat, I imagine he'd fall out with a lot of his friends because it's okay to be an insufferable prick when youre 13 or 16 but less so when youre in your 20s. This would especially impact his relationship with John. If you look at it from a subjective opinion, its a wonder they ended up friends in the first place. They have different interests, contrasting personalities, and different ideas of fun. I like the idea that John would have depression postgame, and I think that Dave just wouldnt know how to handle it at all, doesnt really know how to connect. Theyd be stuck in this thing where they can't think of a single good thing about the other when they're apart, but when they're togehter it's fine. You know its bad when you dont have literally anything to talk abt with your best friend. hes totally indifferent to any of daves comments on politics or the ilk. 

Dave understands that time and relationships dont go well at all he cant stay in touch with old friends, but also doesnt really desire cant new friends, stuck perpetually in limbo.

and thats the thing sort of the same with jake. jake hits it off big but realising so many people want him and desire to be around him makes him lose touch with his old group so hes grown distant too, theyd get along because they dont care enough to know the other on a deeper level and it suits them just fine.  like they might wonder but thatd open a pandoras box.  

For Dave it’s the fact that Jake doesn’t show outward opposition to his brand of bullshit, and doesn’t ask nor desires to get deep with him, so it’s fine. Here for a good time not for a long time.  They can do all the things that dirk is too much of a shut-in prude to do. (Same goes for John) and just hangout. Hookup a few times. 

For Jake, Dave is a strider (something he likes) and again, doesn’t ask and isn’t someone who wants to get deep with him which suits him just fine because Dave can be fun if they’re doing something fun and Jake doesn’t want to go alone. Which he doesn’t. Jake English is the type of guy to fill his entire schedule just to avoid talking to people one on one that hes known for a long time (doesn’t want to get intimate just wants to have a lot to talk about with no qualms.) 

Like he also doesn’t want to know Dave on a personal level but he can convince the guy to go on benders because Dave has nothing really going for him and they can bitch about their selective friend groups w/o it coming back to bite both of them in the ass due to them obviously not going to tell the others about it.  Which is great. For them. 

Its funny as hell to imagine them helping each other but they genuinely do not give a fuck about that at all. Funny In the glaringly not endgame our friend groups both sort of ditched us but we sort of also enabled that to happen (we lack the ability to try hard at it for too long without getting uncomfortable) and base level of similiartiy that doesn’t show signs of fluctuating so as long as they’re generally entertaining and on board to party and do fun things they are friends and or in relations (complicated and a sworn open secret) to each other.

Honestly it’s likee canon. To me. Im a big fan of less than conventional relationships. A lot of the fun comes from exploring the lengths they would go to stave off boredom in the face of immortality and  trying to stave off having a deep conversation or revelation while tiptoeing around issues they have with others and with themselves through a safe haze of vices. Like they’d get close to it but get interrupted. 

Dave and Jake are silly as heck. Love those goobers. Their relationship to Dirk is purely they know to not fuck with each other because it’d genuinely upset dirk really bad but they do it anyway. And it’s true they see attributes of their best friend in the other with added benefits of them not being so uptight as their best friends from childhood. 

#davejake #dave strider #jake english #homestuck #home2t4ck #borzoi meta #borzoi talks #asks

[freya-fallen]

Little Dove 3/?

Part 1

TWs for this part: smoking, manipulation, grooming

Dabi knows what he's doing is wrong. He's not blind to his own backwards morality. In fact, he revels in it. He's murdered without a second thought, for no more than a flash of annoyance. He's a consummate monster. 

But this… the plans shaping up for Hawks’ sweet little sister are truly demented. They're sick, twisted, the sort of evil that leaves a stain and never washes out. He can't wait to share what the hero will do. No doubt, Hawks will try to defend himself. Endeavor will find out what his lost son made the hero do, and he will be filled with disgust for both his son and his second. 

It's all due to an accident of fate. Hawks losing his phone was the best thing to happen to Dabi. Thanks to the idiot’s affectionate contact name for his sister, Dabi was going to trap the two birds in a cage of his own twisted design. 

You and Dabi text every day after that. He’s funny in a dark, sardonic sort of way, but you suppose that’s normal for someone in his line of work. He convinces you to meet up the following weekend. You’re nervous to meet him again. 

You’re also worried about Keigo finding out, but your brother is absent in the few days leading up to your “date.” You don’t think it can properly be called that because it’s not as if he likes you, right? He’s just being nice to his peer’s little sister who never gets out.

Either way, you’re super excited. You spend entirely too much time picking an outfit, lamenting your lack of girlfriends to ask for advice. Last time he saw you, you looked like a kid. You were in your school uniform. This time, you want him to see you looking more adult.

Eventually you settle on a black t-shirt and jeans, both of which hug you flatteringly. You wear black shoes good for walking just in case, and even put on what you consider an artful application of makeup. You think you look much more mature like this, though the butterflies in your stomach belie your cool facade.

Soon enough, you trek to the cafe where you agreed to meet. Dabi is already sitting back in one of the outdoor seats. He nods in acknowledgement and his eyes flick over you; you flush at his clear appraisal, and wish you could figure out what he’s thinking. 

“C’mon,” he says, rising to throw an arm around your shoulders.

He’s so warm and the scents of smoke and tobacco waft from him, as well as something that else that reminds you of fiery nights, but you can’t quite pick out why. It doesn’t matter; the smell isn’t necessarily bad.

“Where are we going?” 

He steers you toward an alley and a writhing mass of darkness appears. “This is a friend’s quirk. It’s safe,” he assures you as you step through. You cling to him through the darkness and he squeezes you close.

When you come out the other side, you’re in a small apartment. It must be his place. There’s a futon, a mini fridge, a sink, what you guess is the lavatory, but the focus is a decent sized flat screen hooked up to a few different consoles. A cardboard box is filled with folded clothes, but that’s the extent of the furniture. It’s like he just moved in.

“I figured we should hang and get to know each other,” Dabi says by way of explanation. He sprawls on the futon and gestures for you to join him, turns on the television, and begins scrolling through apps via one of the consoles. “Do you game?”

You shift from foot to foot before finally taking a seat on the edge of the futon. “A little.” Most of the games in the apartment were chosen by Keigo and you’re not big on those.

He nods. “What d’ya like to watch? I’ll put something on.”

“I don’t know, I watch pretty much anything.”

His head rolls toward you and he deadpans, “I’ll put on some porn.” Your expression must be comical because he bursts out laughing. “Relax, I’m not trying to break you.” He settles on Netflix and sticks on some Korean show about zombies. “This one’s pretty good.”

You nod, actually familiar with the show. “Oh yeah, I like this show. It gets pretty dark though.”

You watch and slowly become more comfortable, leaning back on a pillow propped against the wall. You’ve almost forgotten to be awkward by the time you see fumbling out of the corner of your eye and you glance toward its source.

Dabi has taken down his mark and sports a cigarette between his lips. The bottom one is charred, scarred all the way down into his t-shirt. He lifts a brow at you, then flicks up a finger. A blue flame dances atop it. He uses that to light the cigarette. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“You have a fire quirk?” It’s about the dumbest thing you can say, but he nods. 

“Yep. And you can thank that for all these fuckin’ scars. Pretty, huh?”

The thing is, if it weren’t for the scars, you’d think Dabi is pretty. Even with them, he has a rough, edgy look to him that probably pulls women anyway. 

You shrug. “I like all your piercings.”

“Yeah?” He tugs your ear lobe with the hand not holding the cigarette and you giggle. “You should get some yourself. I bet you’d look pretty hot.”

“Keigo would flip.” The words are out before you can think twice. Your hand slaps over your mouth, eyes wide.

Dabi watches you keenly with those sharp blue eyes of his. “Keigo, huh? Don’t worry, Dove, I won’t tell his secret identity.”

“Thanks.”

“As far as what he likes… well, I bet he wouldn’t like me flirting with his little sister either, but here we are.”

You fall still, unsure you heard him correctly. “You’re flirting with me?”

Dabi laughs again. “Sure am. You’re too damn cute. Why, did you think I asked you to hang just to be nice?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, suddenly shy under his gaze.

Dabi’s tongue skirts his lips and he leans in close. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, but it doesn’t both you. “Sweetheart, you have been running through my mind like a goddamn train since the second I saw you.” He pulls you against him and kisses the top of your head. “You okay with that?”

You smile and speak through the fluttering pulse in your throat. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

want to be added to the taglist? Just ask

@im-just-a-simp-le-whore

#darkfic #yandere #mha #hawks #my hero academia #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #smut #dabi is a creepy #possible dabihawks

[candyheartedchy]

Just a short little fic about Todd and his lost memories regarding my sona.

Todd kept sneaking glances over at the woman sitting across from him, studying her almost as he ate, almost missing his mouth a few times from being distracted during their meal.

Something about this woman felt familiar to him. The way her hands would gently reach for something, her soft spoken voice that always had a trace of caution to her words, and the way she would sneak shy glances back at him felt like he seen this all before. Did they meet before? Was it so long that he couldn’t remember her due to leaving Brighton to travel the world? Was his age finally getting to him? He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but there was no denying that something about her drew him in like a moth to a flame.

The two would constantly find themselves crossing paths in town. Almost as if they were playing some sort of game with each other. A game he felt like he was losing. At first it was amusing to him, seeing this younger woman getting flustered no matter what he did when they meet. He would tease her at every chance he had because of this, making jokes about their meetings being some kind of destiny, which he now regretted after realizing his playful words on the whole situation soon felt real. The way the woman’s dark eyes would light up every time see saw him. The way his heart skip a beat each time he noticed it. And it didn’t help she was cute too which made it worse for him.

He kept finding himself always touching her in some form or another. Accidentally bumping into her when they walked too close down the street, or tucking loose strains of hair behind her ear without warning to see her face more. He would end up apologizing in shame because of these actions, but the woman would just smile softly each time and reassure him that it was okay, placing a soft pat on his arm, which made him shiver at these touches even more. He was sure this was a crush, and he was scared by it. That someone like her with so much time ahead of her wasting it on some middle aged man who kept finding himself almost pathetically flirting with her non stop. But after a while, she started to flirt back. And HARD. He would find himself having giggling fits, almost toe to toe with her on who can fluster the other the most, until it got too much and they had to pull back, smiling uncontrollably at their own excitement. So much so that his childhood best friend would soon poke fun at the pair and their unique situation.

It wasn’t until he uttered that familiar nickname one day that something shifted.

“Chy-Baby.”

The first time he said it, Todd froze like a deer in headlights, realizing what he just said. The woman on the other hand not only froze as well, but out of hope, eyes glistening at the idea that he might remember her after all. That there was some form of his old self coming back to the surface. But as fast as he said it, Todd quickly apologized, smiling in awkwardness, waving it off as a joke.

The woman sighed with a weak smile. She would see glimpses of his old self, slipping through here and there, of what they had before, what he had with her. But the way he smiled shyly and scratched at his arm made her just remember why she fell for him in the first place. Falling in love all over again with him. He was happier now, more spirited, ironic to how he was before returning back to his body. And she couldn’t help be feel happier around him, remembered or not. She missed his voice, the way he would chuckle and how his smile would curled up at times when he was being playful. It was all still there.

But Todd felt frustrated. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind about her. He would stop himself each time from trying to hold her hand, knowing he shouldn’t rush into this, that from what he knew they were still strangers, and yet he reached over the table, gently grabbing the woman’s hands and squeezed it.

The woman looked up, blushing as Todd could only smile at her, uncertain what to say or act on next, but all he knew that he wanted her in his life.

#mostly wrote this to destress #📝 my writing 📝 #❤️ scratchyenne ❤️

[se4son-of-the-witch]

pretty when you cry pt 2 - matt sturniolo

in which matt gets a much needed wake up call

based on this request !

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Enough was enough. You had come to this realization a few days ago. Ever since that night after the bar, you've been ignoring Matt. He's been begging to see you. To come over and fuck you then act like you weren't anything special.

However, this time you actually answered him. He had texted you, saying how much he had missed you and wanted to come over. Little did he know you were going to cut ties with him. Completely.

You've had enough of feeling like an object. Like you were just one of the many girls he could come to when he needed to get off. You were more than that. And you knew deep down Matt wouldn't want you seeing any other guys.

As you awaited his arrival, you paced around the room. You stopped in front of your mirror, taking a good look at yourself. You brushed your hair out of your face as you let out a deep breath. This was going to be a difficult thing to do, but you knew it was the best thing to do. 

A knock on the door thankfully took you out of your thoughts, making sure you were getting any second thoughts about your decision. 

You made your way down the stairs, bracing yourself for how awkward this whole interaction was going to be. You waited a second before opening the door, your hand hesitantly reaching for the handle. Behind the door, Matt stood on your front porch. He was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants, which he knew made you go crazy. However, you had to push those thoughts aside and stand up for yourself. 

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted in a low tone. 

"Hi.' You kept your greeting short, not wanting it to go south before you had the chance to shut down your little situation. You closed the door behind you, making Matt's eyebrows raise in confusion, and took another step towards him. 

"What, did you wanna go back to my place or something?" He smirked at you, trying to get some sort of reaction from you. 

You let out a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore, Matt." You made short eye contact, trying to keep yourself from backing out. 

"What?" You didn't say anything which made his face slightly fall. "We don't have to have sex. We could just watch a movie or something." He shrugged his shoulders, not even sounding remotely interested in just cuddling with you.

"No, Matt, I'm saying," you paused, "I can't continue this." You pointed between the two of you. He looked down at you with his eyes slightly squinted. 

"What did I do wrong?" For some reason you couldn't place it, his tone was off. Like he didn't actually care to hear what he did wrong. Almost as if he was trying to pity himself and turn the whole situation on you. 

"It's just unfair." A deep sigh came from your mouth, making him take a step back. The confusion on his face was now replaced with annoyance. 

"I don't understand." He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head at you. "You're the one who keeps coming to see me, yet it's unfair to you?"

His words made you scoff. "Don't even go there, Matt." The two of you stood in silence for a minute, anger beginning to boil in your blood. "I know I'm not the only one, Matt." His mouth slightly gaped, making you scoff. "You were literally talking to a girl the other day after we came home from the bar." 

"What? I can't have other friends? It's not like we're even together," he shot back.

"That's just it, Matt. We're not together, yet you talk to me like we've been devoted to each other for years."

"Well, how was I supposed to talk to you?"

You laughed. He sounded like a complete idiot right now. "That's not the point. And you know damn well if I was talking to anybody else you would lose your shit." He scowled at you, really letting your words sink in. "It's just unfair." 

"You don't know that."

"Trust me, I do." He looked away, knowing deep down you were right, he just didn't want to admit it. "I just can't do this anymore. I'm more than someone you use to get off when you're horny." 

He shuffled back and forth on his feet, trying to think of what to say next. "You know you mean more than that, Y/n." He stepped closer to you, trying to caress your arm. However, you took a step back, brushing him off. 

"Do I, Matt?" When he didn't answer, you confirmed that this was the best thing to do. "Look, I can't just be an object. Not to you or anyone else." You took a deep breath. "So after you leave tonight, don't try to reach out, because I'm not going to answer." 

Although it didn't show on his face, you knew how hard your words hit him. It's as if all of his blood drained from his face, leaving him pale with slightly wide eyes. 

"Okay, okay. I can respect that." 

"Thank you, Matt." 

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, Matt spoke. "Well, I wish you the best, sweetheart. Maybe one day I'll see you around?" His tone was hopeful, which made you slightly smile. 

"I can't say." And you were telling the truth. As much as Matt made you feel special, you knew it was an act. However, he was a great guy. He just didn't know how to properly show you that. "Good night, Matt." You headed towards your front door, stepping inside. 

"Good night, Y/n." You watched as he walked off your porch, and headed to his car with his head low in defeat. Although it was an unusual sight to see, it took a big weight off of your shoulders. You were no longer his sweetheart and you couldn't feel better about that.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: no happy ending this time 😛😛

tags: @chrattstromboli @imwetforyourmom

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader

[alllsunday]

A few thoughts on how Portgas D. Ace is the epitome of the Tragic Hero. For one, his entire life was a tragedy.

“A tragic hero is the protagonist of a tragic story or drama, in which, despite their virtuous and sympathetic traits and ambitions, they ultimately meet defeat, suffering, or even an untimely end. They are often imperfect or wounded with some sort of fraught experience, and typically have some sort of fatal flaw.”

He fits the criteria :

1.) “High status/noble”

Ace is the sole heir of the notorious Pirate King and the only known female Will of D carrier. Yes, he’s not a noble, but he is obviously a high status pirate and a person with the “noble” qualities Aristotle was talking about even if he wasn’t literally one. Honourable, generous, polite.

2.) “Flawed”

The fatal flaw (hamartia) that brings about the hero’s downfall, destruction caused by their own hands. In Ace’s case … well, if I had to narrow it down, I’d say wrath, arrogance, and never backing down were the most key to his downfall, but the title of #1 has to go to his hubris (excessive arrogance/pride). It was because of this he went to Wano to challenge Kaido, the monster not even Oden could slay. Izou himself pointed out Ace’s arrogance. It was because of this he challenged Whitebeard, went after Teach, and ultimately ended in tragedy. Ace had been the strongest almost his entire life, losing was.. new. Even in the face of Teach’s power, he underestimated him, thinking that he’d win, which brings me to my next point :

3.) “A reversal of fortune”

“The character should suffer a terrible reversal of fortune, from good to bad. Such a reversal does not merely mean a loss of money or status. It means that the work should end with the character dead or in immense suffering, and to a degree that outweighs what it seems like the character deserved.”

Ace was a traumatised and heavily wounded character who spent his childhood suffering. It was not quite a childhood. As an older teenager, he was tearing up the world of piracy (the first pirate of the new generation, super rookie, all at an insanely fast rate, even much moreso than Luffy) before joining Whitebeard and settling down. Though not eradicated, his internal struggles cooled down slightly. Maybe by the time he was a fully wisened man and not a boy fresh out of his teenage years, he could have been on the road to healing - but his belief that he could obviously beat Teach, his subordinate, was the catalyst for the events that were to come.

It was seemingly going alright - Ace had fit in, made friends, had the family he had so needed.

That flipped over almost instantly, and ended in his painfully premature death. During the fight, Ace realised he’d been overconfident. But this time he couldn’t back it up. Teach had won.

On his deathbed, Ace finally realised that he wanted to live. Death was the thing he’d wondered about for his entire life, and now that he was actually on the brink of it - he had changed his mind. After 20 years, he genuinely wanted to keep going for the first time. Yet it was snatched away from him.

To add insult to injury, Sabo’s death, one of Ace’s many traumatic experiences, ended up being a misunderstanding. Sabo was alive and didn’t remember him… until he had died.

#portgas d ace #one piece #asl brothers #sabo #monkey d. luffy #character analysis #ace one piece #whitebeard pirates #spade pirates

[yuri-is-online]

ruggie to (unknowingly) his kid: imma flirt with your mom and potentially erase your existence, sorry not sorry

*cracks knuckles* nothing but the best for my favorite hyena.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here.

The entire Yutu situation gives Leona a headache.  He sees the portal, takes a sniff, rolls his eyes, and goes looking for the only hyena he (or to be more accurate Yuu) knows.  He doesn't outright say “congratulations you're a dad” because he doesn't know if that would be too much to believe but Ruggie takes the whole "time traveler related to Yuu" idea fairly well.  I mean, Yuu’s from another world and Ruggie was pretty convinced that was impossible until .  What bothers him is Leona's saying Yutu is a beastman.  That can only really mean one thing, but Ruggie doesn't want to bug Leona for any more details because what if his first thought is wrong and all his hopes are crushed?  I mean he never said that Yutu was Yuu's kid... just that they are related. Maybe it's an ancestry thing and he can just adjust the streams a bit?

Meanwhile Yutu is thrilled to see what a great partner to his parent his dad is. It makes him feel very warm and safe, something Yutu hasn't felt in a very long time.

Ruggie! Yutu is a bit oblivious to certain things.  He tries to socialize with people, really he does but things always just sort of come out wrong and leave him upset, lonely, and embarrassed. He doesn't have Ruggie's charisma or ability to schmooze, but he does have his laugh. Something that endears him to Yuu which is all he really cares about at the end of the day. Hyenas tend to be more solitary and stick to their clans/family units, and while he might not have his ears and tail in your world he still has his instincts.

Yuu remembers Ruggie as someone who took care of them and took a great deal of pride in that. They tell him about how Yutu shares his laugh, and how they know in their soul he would have loved Yutu to bits. Ruggie has a voice line about how he used to make flower crowns for the neighborhood kids back home, and I can see him teaching Yuu how he made them when they were preparing for Yutu so they "could make some for the kid when they get here." Yuu might not remember that's why they know how to make the little crowns Yutu loves so much, but it makes them nostalgic to watch their little dandelion prince run around their backyard in his crown.

Dandelions are his favorite flower from how often Yuu uses them to make flower crowns, and he quite likes making wishes on them.  When he was a child he used to bring them up to Yuu and insist on them making wishes too, he never told them but he was convinced that one day Yuu's memory loss and pain would go away if they just kept wishing on them. He still makes wishes on them sometimes, but he feels very silly about it now.

He likes being useful, especially to Yuu, and is surprisingly good at negotiating for someone who isn't as unflappable as his dad.  People tend to think he comes off as a bit stupid, so they're very blindsided when he knows all his figures and what to charge for his work.  He doesn't fully realize this which tends to annoy people, which he does pick up on but he's too stubborn to let that affect negotiations.  He needs that money more than whoever is dunking on him.

What does he use that money for? Well he wants Yuu to use it on bills, but you keep saying no so he spends it on fabric and yarn. If he's going to spend so much time alone he might as well be able to clothe himself. And you always praised him when he made you something new. Like I said, he wants to be useful.

As described here upon being transported to Twisted Wonderland, Ruggie! Yutu found himself transformed into a hyena beastman. His hearing is overwhelmingly sensitive, Crewel has to speak to him in whispers for the first few weeks, and still finds himself doing it sometimes. Losing Yuu clearly struck a massive blow to Yutu's sense of self, and now Crewel has to tell him about what happened to his dad.

Yutu really likes the idea that the dead in Twisted Wonderland become stars. He starts stargazing to cope with missing his parents, even picking out where in the sky he thinks you and Ruggie are watching over him. It evolves into an interest in stargazing that he keeps up when he travels back in time.

Now Ruggie. Ruggie. When Yutu meets him he's surprised at how accurate Yuu's memories of him were. He loves showing off how good he would be at taking care of Yuu while providing them the room to take care of themselves too. Ruggie has so much respect for what Yuu can do without magic it makes Yutu a bit teary eyed, he had always worried about Yuu feeling alone in Twisted Wonderland since he knows first hand mages can be very judgemental so seeing one not like that-

"Well it's just nice to see." His father can't see it but his tail his wagging underneath his hoodie. For some reason, Ruggie doesn't seem proud of himself though, he's just staring at the ground long and hard like he's thinking about something.

"Are you sure you should be thanking me?" Yutu thinks that Ruggie sounds sad, and he's instantly worried that he's said something wrong somehow but has no idea what it could be or how to explain himself if he had.

"Um- is is there a reason I shouldn't?" Please don't make him guess that's his least favorite game and he always fails-

"Well I mean I'm flirting with your parent ain't I? That could potentially erase your existence." Ruggie is so serious about it that it shocks Yutu out of his spiral.

"Oh. I don't think that will be an issue."

Listen the instant Ruggie learns he can flirt with Yuu to his hearts content without causing timeline issues he gets three times as "insufferable" (Yutu thinks it's cute) with how direct he is to Yuu. He's still more reserved than some of the other boys, he wants you to make the first move, but he's happy that he wasn't misinterpreting your relationship up to this point. Really happy.

He is significantly LESS happy with what Yutu tells him about the future. Ruggie was raised by his grandma and while he loves her to death the last thing he ever wanted for his child was to A) have to struggle like he did and B) have to struggle alone. Don't get him wrong, he trusts Yuu to have given Yutu the best childhood possible given their circumstances but those circumstances never should have existed. It's literally the one thing he has been working for all this time and vowed never to accept failure for.

Very worried about Yutu's health now that he knows he's been a Hyena beastmen all this time under that hood. He uses his new found freedom to take up Yuu's time to keep them away from Ramshackle (until Yutu is ready to tell Yuu) so Yutu can have a bit more time to relax outside of his disguise. he's very impressed by Yutu's sewing skills and takes the time to teach him how to alter his clothes to be more friendly to his tail and ears.

From the bit of reading I did on Hyenas, and some of Ruggie's voice lines, bringing back food for the cubs is very important to them so Ruggie starts being very concerned about seeing Yutu eat enough. He won't even charge for it if he thinks his kid didn't get enough to eat, Rugginald is going to find that boy a sandwich if it's the last thing he does (but not really he's not going to die on Yutu again.)

Surprisingly, Ruggie is more than fine with Yutu's lack of charisma and social awkwardness. It takes all sorts of peoples to make the world go round and Yutu clearly has a good head for figures and a strong work ethic. He knows what his weakness are and he tries to make up for them, what else could a survival minded guy like Ruggie ask for? (One of those sweaters he made Yuu, a matching one preferably he wants to take holiday pictures he's heard rich people do that.)

Ruggie is another one who has no idea how to fix the future, but he's sure Leona will be willing to make it his problem if he learns just how much more work is waiting for him in the future if he doesn't stop things now. In the meantime he tries not to think about the death that could be awaiting him in favor of working to maintain what he has now, and that's you, your not cat, and your star gazing son from the future. Ruggie's never been one to take stock in the idea that a person can be poor in wealth but rich in friends, but damn if he doesn't feel like it every time Yutu asks him to show him something new.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi x yuu #future kid au

[kkatastrophic]

role-swapped: sokka, and either fire sibling

made an account solely for this, but i feel like sokka role swapped with either sibling (either zuko or azula) makes some sort of sense. call me crazy (if anyone is even seeing this to call me crazy at all, then hello) all you want, but i don't know, i feel like it makes sense. though to be fair, i do really um, overanalyze things and might just be making my explanation sound really ooc and weird and too 'he's me i'm giving him my issues'. not sure. just here to be overdramatic i guess. sorta relate to all three of these characters so. take my 'it makes sense!!!11111!!11!!' with a grain of salt. also scared i got the characters all wrong. so. yeah

firstly, the similarities.

sokka and zuko:

sokka and zuko are both insecure fellas who want to prove to someone that they are honorable and worthy people; zuko wants to show his father and his nation that he is a worthy prince that should return to his rightful place for the throne, and sokka wants to show his father and his tribe that he is a strong and manly warrior, that he can protect katara and the tribe. they both have something to prove, something they want to become. they are both overshadowed by their prodigious sister and they both find themselves feeling lesser by it, just in different ways. sokka doesn't feel as useful as he wants to be and zuko feels like a failure compared to azula. they both don't quite like the fact that their skills aren't the best they believe they could be. the two of them both solve an issue between themselves: sokka learns how to overcome obstacles without bending, and zuko learns how to follow his own destiny and stand up for himself. they both have lost their mother, they both have distant fathers (except hakoda isn't distant because he wants to be, nor is he abusive, but that doesn't mean he isn't distant), and these similarities made me write this whole thing. it would be interesting to see how much would change and how much would stay the same, what life would be like for zuko and what life would be like for sokka. would their personalities swap as well? sokka's would change drastically, but i think zuko's would not change extremely.

sokka and azula:

don't get me wrong, sokka is insecure and everything, but he's also much like azula, at least, in my eyes he is. azula and sokka are both crippling perfectionists, excelling at a specific thing: azula's firebending and battle (plus regular) intelligence, and sokka's skillful planning, his own battle (and regular) intelligence, and inventing. they both see their father in a bright light, they both were heavily affected by his actions and again, they both lost their mother. due to their need to succeed and win, they both become irrational and heavily emotional when they do not. sokka blames himself for the loss during the eclipse raid, and azula has a mental breakdown when she loses against katara and zuko during sozin's comet. when they've been defeated, they break down in one way or another. and back to the first sentence, azula is insecure too. she feels unlovable and has major trust issues, and more that if i said, would make this already somewhat long thing even longer.

—

now: onto what i feel like the characters would be with roles swapped. zuko role-swapped with sokka: an insecure sixteen-year-old, angsty boy with a crippling need to be useful for his family. he misses his father dearly and wishes he could have spent more time with his mother, whose face he can't even remember. he looks like a trash bender compared to his younger sister, azula, who has blue fire and a natural, raw talent. he wants to be a warrior like his father, fighting against the monstrous water tribes. he's insecure about his unimpressive bending but learns to improve his skill and find new techniques instead of letting his self-hatred get the best of him. he helps aang, the avatar, defeat the water tribes, and while on adventures with the gaang, he learns to accept himself. he becomes more than just a planning, brooding, awkward guy; instead of making himself feel worse with his less-than-average firebending skills, he focuses more on using double swords, becoming very good at it. he rarely uses his firebending because of it, realizing that he doesn't need to be a good bender to be a good fighter/warrior. sokka role-swapped with zuko: a self-hating fifteen-year-old who misses his tribe and misses his honor. he is worthless, weak, and a failure, horrible at waterbending, unlike his gifted sister, katara. his father gave his left eye frost burn, and he is partially deaf and blind on the left side of his face due to it, but he deserved it; he spoke out of line, disrespected his elder, disrespected Ice (or water) Lord Hakoda, his own dad. ever since he was twelve, he has been looking for the missing avatar to bring back to his tribe to make his father (and tribe) proud and love him again. he travels with his honorary uncle bato, who helps him eventually turn a new leaf. bato helps him learn new skills and new techniques that help him improve his waterbending quickly, being patient with him and supporting him through his darkest moments. he realizes that what he is doing is wrong and he abandons his home and his father to help aang, the avatar whom he had been hunting constantly, learn waterbending. he learns from his mistakes and successfully becomes the Ice / Water Lord, helping aang defeat his father and simultaneously helping azula defeat his maniacal sister, katara. —

sokka role-swapped with azula: either thirteen or fifteen-year-old.(katara as zuko is aged up if sokka is fifteen, sokka as azula is aged down if he is thirteen) he is an extremely impressive waterbender, gifted and prodigious, unlike his poor older sister, katara. if he wants something he gets it, and he will go at any length to win, to defeat, to conquer. he, much like his talented father, never fail, they never fail, and they never will! he doesn't need anyone's trust or love; spirits, he doesn't need anyone. sokka'll use peoples' fear of him to get whatever the hell he wants, no matter what. his mother was right; he is a monster, and he- he takes pride in it! after his so-called 'friends' betrayed him, one for looooove and the other for, well, the one in love. ((can you tell i have no clue who to make his friends? maybe suki and yue?)) he saw her once again, taunting him while he grew furious with his stupid long hair. (stupid wolftails.) he messes his hair up, messes up once again, and throws the scissors in the mirror to try and make his dead, naive, stupid mom go away. but that's not all: even though he's perfect, even though he's supposed to be, he fucks it up. his father was supposed to be the Ocean King, and sokka himself was supposed to be the new Ice/Water Lord, but of course, his stupid sister and her stupid fire-bending friend got in the way of the water tribe's supposed-to-be success and defeated him, humiliated him. and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. he breaks down, crying nonstop and feeling utterly defeated.

azula role-swapped with sokka: she's the genius. she's the one who does the planning, it's azula. not zuko with his amazing firebending, not aang with his... dumb avatar-ness, not toph with her scary earthbending; no, it's sixteen-year old ((aged up to be oldest in the gaang like sokka is, but she can still be fourteen if u want i don't know.)) azula, the bad bender. agni, she's basically a non-bender anyway, with the way her fire can barely light a torch. but her uselessness doesn't stop her from trying to be perfect, of course it doesn't! she's useful, she knows it, she just has to figure out how. she can't strive to be anything less, not when she wants to protect her brother and her friends. not when she wants to be the next chief of the fire nation when this is all over. instead of wallowing in her own self-hatred, she decides to try something new; she decides to try bows and arrows. and agni, she's good. she decides that she doesn't need to be a master bender like zuko, aang, and toph are, because she's a master in her own way and doesn't need her firebending to be useful. she can still protect her friends and brother without relying on her bending. and while azula sometimes wishes that she were as talented as zuko is with firebending, she also understands that she is just as talented as he is without firebending, but with her bow. she accepts herself and her flaws.

—

while i think zuko and sokka's role-swap would make sense and works better, i also think that azula and sokka's role-swap works too, just a little... reachy. i guess. i don't know!!!! i just. sorta been thinking about this for too long. ahaaa i don't think this is gonna be read at ALLLL so hey guys! hey fruity gang! #awesome!

might post art idk? blegh ... SORRY TO WHOEVER READS THIS LIKE THIS IS SERIOUSLY DEF OOC IDK.

#sokka #atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #role swap au #hi... #first post #hello tumblr #whats cracka-lackin'