#hope that abbreviation’s okay

[saintartemis]

how did you get into the history field ? :)

Hi Anon!

So one of my earliest memories is from when I think I was 7 and I was watching a documentary on the Pyramids of Giza (back when the History channel had real history) and I think that’s what set me up in part for a career in history.

I originally started off as an archaeologist, but it ended up not working out, so I switched to working in museums and now I get to teach people about topics in history and hopefully inspire them to want to learn more about the past!

Thank you for the question!

#I gave you the abbreviated verison anon hope that was okay #ask #history #artemis answers

[piplupod]

hoodie painting progress under the cut!

ignore how weird i am holding it fhdksl i have a hard time holding things sometimes bc my hand joints are fucked up or smth but !!!! the painting is coming along well!!!

the only issue is that i am struggling with like... the whole colour theory thing of what the paint will actually look like next to the black bc rn its surrounded by tape, so I can't actually tell if it'll look stark enough against the black or if i need to do a third coat of paint fhdjksl

#for some reason i just realized how much i type using abbreviations and now feel very self conscious about it dhdksl #do my posts look silly ... i cannot tell #do other ppl use abbreviations this much. am i doing smth wrong dhdjdkl #i use less abbreviations when im typing on my laptop but on my phone my hands get cramped so i try to type less overall #and thus. abbreviating. #anyways the hoodie is cool and i hope it turns out okay fjdksl i am so nervous #pippen needs 2nd breakfast

[mphountitled]

𝙄𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙀𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji is intent on ruining every other man for you

Warnings: Language, Toxic Relationship, fwb, Age Gap, Minor Gaslighting, Jealousy, Slight Angst, Coercion, Manipulation, Manhandling, Possessiveness, PDA, Threats, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Toji Filming You, Video Sex?, Humiliation Kink, Exhibition Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Neediness, Mutual Masturbation, Humping, Spitting, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Massive Praise Kink, Threats, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation, Forced Breeding

A/N: Please proceed with caution, I beg

Perhaps your first mistake is assuming you could open his message, glance over it with hooded, glossy eyes, and swipe out, with the blatant intention of ignoring him.

Toji is rarely someone who fancies wasting time. He types like the old man he is, with messages devoid of emoji's or textual abbreviations.

He had simply and succinctly written:

I miss your face.

His message is unambiguous with the expectation that you are now supposed to drop every commitment you might harbour on this thunderous Thursday night to accommodate him and his nighttime hard-on that probably hit him in a slump of boredom.

It irritated you to imagine how secondary you always seem to be in his mind's eye. It pissed you off to think that his words when he fucked you, his blatant degrdation, may hold a sliver of truth. Perhaps you really were just a sex toy he only makes use of when he wishes for a break from the rest of the world and its obligations. That piercing thought that he used you accommodate all his kinks, while he continuously failed to claim you amongst his associates... it broke you. It left you feeling cheap and ragged and worthless and-

another message peaks over your home screen:

I know you're seeing this. Tell him to fuck off.

"Everything okay?" Your head snaps up from your phone, immediately meeting the eyes of the man you had just kissed under the awning of your Townhouse patio. His warm eyes which had stayed warm throughout the duration of your date are now hooded in concern.

"Everything's perfectly fine," You attempt to reassure your coworker who had just taken you on a fantastic date. There is an inflection in your voice which you quickly attempt to clear, "Just a message from one of my students-"

You're interrupted by another incoming notification which you instinctively check.

I miss your cunt. Need to see you touch yourself.

Swiping out of that particular message had been significantly more difficult, and it took all your willpower to ignore the slew of notifications.

"My kids tend to send messages outside office hours too," your date soldiers on, bending his tall frame hoping to draw your attention once again. "It's like they don't understand the concept of school time and downtime. Teachers have lives too,"

Your eyes narrow infinitesimally at the strain in his voice when he says, "I like seeing you in academic work mode, though. It's hot." You immediately notice his words as a veneer to mask the irritation at having your date interrupted by your notifications. All that hangs between you two now is the rites of passage one is expected to complete at the end of every date.

'Ask me up' his eyes practically pleaded, as you noticed him send tiny glances at your front door, 'Ask me up and let's get this over with',

And perhaps, maybe you would have invited him up. Lord knows your own arousal had been building with the steady stream of Toji's messages, one more quick glance revealed the final message:

Do you honestly imagine yourself calling that puny little thing, Daddy?

A shuddering breath leaves your throat as a million questions bombard a million other statements racing through your mind. Questions of how the fuck Toji knew you were on a date were overshadowed by the realization that you are going to sleep with this stranger tonight. You are going to find a new anchor and a brand new distraction.

"Would you like to stay for a drink-" You asked, or would have asked, had it not been for the sheer shock at having your own door open behind you. You spin around, utterly speechless as you and your date both watch Toji answer your door.

"She doesn't drink," He says, leaning his bare, muscled shoulder against your doorframe, the rest of him is clad in his sweatpants, the drawstring left lazily to hang, "So finding any beverage alcoholic enough for her to negate the fact that you're not going to make her cum, will be quite the feat." Your coworker bristles at Toji's remark, but you're corralled into silence. It is as if your brain can not comprehend what your eyes are seeing in front of you. Your voice is dwindling as you attempt to ask,

"Where did you… How the hell did you get my keys?" But Toji disregards you as easily as he has been doing for the duration of your relationship. Arousal be damned, all you allow yourself to feel in this very moment is red, white, and hot, anger.

It is so easy for him to look past you, so easy for him to pretend you're not there when his cock isn't forcing you to take his cum. The anger pulsates through you, straining your tear ducts. If it weren't for his sudden, inexplicable movements you probably would have cursed him out with tears streaking your face.

With his eyes still on your date, Toji pulls your limp body against him. He dips his head to splay a calloused kiss at the side of your head before letting his hands drift over the curvy outlines of your body. He rubs you soothingly, in a way he knows would get you into a compliant, likely sated state as he pushes your head onto his bare chest.

"You're still standing here?" His head tilts as he stares down your date; a scarred lip curling at the end. "Would you like to watch?" By this point, you're so deep into detangling your own conflicting emotions that you're not even sure who Toji is speaking to. What you are aware of is his bulge rubbing against you from behind. His grip on your hips are concrete as he looks at the now utterly angered man, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to," Toji's lips graze your ear, "She does enjoy putting on a show,"

You're utterly horrified that his words and raucous display have your colleague lumbering away from your doorstep and racing to his car, never looking back.

"That is an utter shame. I think he would've liked to see how needy you get when you wanna cum-" But you've finally gained enough sensibility to push him away from you. Your heart is beating loud in your ear as you push past him and into your living room.

"Where is it,"

"My dick? It's in my pants and it wants your attention-"

"Your shirt!" Your voice thunders up into the rafters of your living room's ceiling, likely in vicious combat with the thunder groaning outside. "You're going to get your shirt and you're going to leave my house and you will then proceed to leave my fucking life!" You're pushing over cushions and decorative pillows as you search frantically for Toji's shirt, "Give me my fucking house keys and leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I'm serious!"

In the tempest of your movements, frizzy hair wild from your outburst and your manic movements, you are utterly seething to find him directly behind you. His head, dipping into the nape of your neck, deposits a row of kisses as he pushes himself up against you.

"I really need to fuck you." He says, completely reducing your earlier words into nothingness, "I need to hear you make those needy little whimpers of yours and I need you to call me Daddy, okay? I need you to tell Daddy you want him to make you a Mommy," He is utterly delirious as he fists your breasts over your buttoned shirt and thrust his hips into your backside. He is deluded by his own fantasies, guided by his own arousal with little to no thought for your own feelings. You hated that his desires flowed parallel to yours. You hated that you wanted exactly what he wanted. You hated that your panties were already steadily getting soaked at just the thought of him needing you so much he started humping lazily into your ass. "Daddy needs you to take care of him, hm? Can you do that, pretty girl?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, afraid that it might bleed into a horrendous moan, "When have you ever taken care of me, Toji? You fucking humiliated me-" He spins you around until your chest is facing him. You fight to evade the sight of his cock straining against his grey sweatpants as you stare blankly up at him.

"You like it," Toji says, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, "And I like that you like it." And perhaps, maybe a sick, emotionally damaged part of you did enjoy it when he made you suffer a little. His words bring revelation, as you think back to seconds ago, how him touching you - disrespecting you in front of your coworker brought on a heightened state of arousal.

"Make yourself cum." He commands as he hurriedly undoes the buttons of your blouse. You quickly notice that his patience has finally cracked, and a vexed scowl now dances on Toji's face as he discards your blouse on the floor, "No more questions. Make yourself fucking cum-" He growls, as he forces you down onto your couch with a hand gripping your scalp and another, pulling a wayward pillow in front of you.

"Make yourself cum because when I touch you, your pleasure is going to be the least of my fucking concerns."

You eye the pillow with slight trepidation while Toji eyes you from above. His hand is still firmly placed on top of your head, lightly craning it backwards to see every emotion running through your face.

"Keep the skirt on," He orders, and watches with hungry eyes as you slowly take off your underwear and mount the cushion in front of you.

"Give me your phone," he is already grabbing at your device, fumbling for the camera.

"Toji, please-"

"It's Toji, now!?" He asks, laughing breathlessly as he presses record and pushes the camera into your face, "Who the fuck is Toji to you?"

Your eyes snap shut, hoping to get away from the invading insectile lense or fresh coat of arousal betweenyour thighs. Your mind is utterly fried by the stimulation you're getting from every output. Your hips have started languidly moving against the pillow, feeling pathetically satiated by the friction against your soaked little clit,

"Look at you- Fuck!" Toji removes his hand on your head to lightly paw at the bulge so deliriously close to your face, "Look at what a fucking slut you are! Do your little work friends know how stupid you get when you're on the verge of cumming-"

"Toji-"

"I said who the fuck is Toji to you!?" The sheer and utter cruelty in his tone has you humping the pillow faster, while you clumsily raise a hand to paw at your breasts. Unable to keep his composure any longer, Toji's hand descends into his sweatpants as he begins to stroke his aching dick in unison with your hips. You watch with hooded, fucked out eyes. Your pillowy lips pull in between your teeth as a pornographic moan bubbles from within your chest.

You decide to give in. "P-Please Daddy, Please fuck me- I fucking need you to cum inside me- p-please-" You're unable to stop, feeling your wetness spread along the pillow, as you watch him stroke intently, "Fuck me- I need you to fuck me, fuck me please, Daddy-" You're utterly breathless, repeating your words like a wanton, desperate whore, "Please… Daddy," you continue to whisper, "Daddy,"

"Fuck-you look so fucking sexy, baby," He doesn't know whether to look at the video of your hips moving greedily against the pillow, or to watch the real thing: your hips making a web of sticky trails of arousal on the couch.

"Apologise to Daddy, like a good girl," He really wants to fuck you but his own pride, the curse of his averous stands in his way, "Tell Daddy you're sorry for being a foolish little whore. Tell him you'll never ignore a message from him ever again-" your shoulders flinch at the sound of your phone being discarded on the floor but still, your hips are unrelenting as you say, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry." Drool drips from the side of your mouth, falling along your exposed breasts, which Toji squeezes recklessly. "Never! I'll never ignore another message from you ever, ever, ever," you're operating on autopilot, as you watch him release his cock from inside his sweatpants, his fingers prod and twist at your nipple.

"I miss your mouth," He utters drunkenly as he bends down, "Kiss me," And you obey as you rise to meet his lips. The soft roughness of Toji's lips only has your hips humping desperately against the pillow once more, his tongue forcing its way inside until you're both kissing with lewdity and ferocity. "Fucking slut-" he says, pulling back to push you backwards,

"My horny humping girl is so ready for Daddy to fuck her isn't she?" You're completely flooded with anticipation, it flows through your arteries, alerting every part of your brain. You feel as though you're about to taste euphoria as Toji roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the couch, lifting it to meet his cock which he hurriedly slams into you.

He fucks you, hard and rough and as needy as you feel- hovering above you so every stroke has his pelvis pushing against your clit as you fucks you into your own couch.

"You thought you could just fucking get away from me, hm?" There's a heavy condescending tone in his voice, one that has you arching your back with your lips pulled between your teeth. You're striving to get away from his harsh thrusts because the pleasure is way too much . It's all bubbling inside you, threatening to spill out everywhere and anywhere.

"I fucking told you, didn't I!?" Droplets of water fall from his hair as he watches you so intensely. You think you might cum on the spot, "Daddy fucking told you that you can't ever say no to him- you can't ever tell him to stop- Stop fucking moving!" But your movements have him more turned on than you'd initially thought, allowing him to use the advantage of his brawn, to lock you down with his iron grip at your hips. You're trapped on the couch underneath him, as he continues to fuck you like you don't exist,

"If you keep moving like that- fuck! If you keeping fucking trying to get away Daddy will have no choice but to cum inside you," Your legs tingle with the nearness of your euphoria, it only expands as he brings his lips directly onto of yours as he mutters, "Daddy's going to cum inside you, okay? Maybe that's what you need to realise you can't talk to other men? Maybe getting you fucking pregant will make sure you'll stop being a fucking slut-"

His cock is shallow and relentless inside your soaked, gummy walls, it pushes against everything it can find and is utterly relentless on that one sensitive bundle of nerves that only he seems to be able to find.

"Are you going to cum!?" He asks, "Because I'm so fucking close baby- I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Be a good girl for once in your fucking life-"

"FUCK-" You're a screaming, wet mess as you cum so violently, it disrupts the flow of your entire body, "Thats it… Gonna get you pregnant- oh fuck-" he exclaims, his white hot seed exploding inside of you, prolonging the overwhelming sensation of your own orgasm. It completely takes over your mind - feeling so completely full of him. Toji's hips lightly shudder as he attempts to milk as much of himself up inside of you, before pulling away. He is utterly mesmerised by the sticky, white cum oozing out of your puffy vagina. He watches, transfixed, as he brings his fingers up to slide as much of his cum inside you but it all comes sliding back.

"What are you," You're barely able to find your voice, "What are you doi-"

But he already has you upside down. His muscles flex he holds you carefully by your hips, with your head grazing the carpet. You recognize the movement as a relic of the old wives' tale. The second his cum is swimming inside you, you need to lay upside down to help it along.

No scientific evidence that this guarantees any sort of pregnancy, of course, but Toji strikes you as the superstitious type.

"Making sure the job's done." He says, "You think I was kidding about getting you pregnant?"

I can explain...

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x black reader

[soapsbaby]

Hi! Can I request silly horny autocorrect texting headcanons with 141 and whoever you wish to add? I couldn't stop laughing at Soap's "baby gorilla" so I hope my request is okay. Thank you! 🧡

Love your request! I couldn't really come up with enough autocorrect headcanons so I made more general texting ones! Hope you enjoy anyway mwah!

Summary: 141 + König silly texting headcanons Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, König all in relation to the reader (some romantic, some friendly) Rating: slightest bit nsfw Word Count: 500ish

Simon

Simon texts you like he hates you all the time. One word answers, no emojis, no anything and then gets confused when you wonder whether he is mad at you. 

“Hey love, do you want me to get you something from the store while I’m there? love you!!” “no” “Simon, are you mad at me?” “no” “Promise?” “yes” 

He understands your point but he would rather be caught dead than use emojis

You have him saved in your phone with the ghost emoji as his name, he has you saved as your full legal name even though you’ve been dating for years now, just isn’t a big phone guy. 

Johnny

He types like he just slams his hand onto the keyboard and hopes for the best and there are more words with typos in his texts than there are ones without. Even autocorrect can’t save this man. 

He once, to your horror, told you about this “super cute rubber dick” he found at a store and how he’d bring it home to you so you’d have something to remember him by when he goes on missions. It took about an hour and him sending a picture until you realized he meant to say rubber duck. 

He’s been saved in your phone with the little duck emoji next to his name ever since.

Price

Old man texting all of the time. Does not understand memes (but laughs about them to make you happy), does not understand emojis and their meanings or any abbreviations. 

Is obsessed with the ability to send you gifs. You ask him a yes or no question? He won’t type it out, he’ll send you a gif of someone giving a thumbs up or of someone shaking their head.

If he gets the chance he will always prefer calling you over just texting.

Gaz

He makes typos all the damn time but god beware you ever mistype a single time because he will mock you for it until eternity. God beware the one time you told him you wanted to grab some food from “Windy’s” instead of “Wendy’s”. Now every time someone suggests to get takeout he’ll have this smug look on his face. “Oh, I think y/n would prefer Windy’s actually”.

Is the type to send you 6 minute voice memos about whatever he has been doing that day, get distracted halfway through and  then start the story over. 

Has like 7 hours of screen time on days that he isn’t at work. He’s the type to refuse to download tiktok and then scroll instagram reels for hours. 

König

He has German autocorrect on and it’s a mess. He can’t type to begin with but the autocorrect makes him borderline incoherent.

He is also a big user of emojis when it comes to texting you, he loves all of the smileys and hearts

“I am ging to the größere Story, do you nieder anything?” “Sorry what?” “Going to the Wal mart do you need any thing?” “No, thanks” “Ok Love you!!! 💕💞💖❤️”

Will send you pictures of everything that reminds him of you "Look at this flowers 😄💕"

#this is so silly i hope you like it #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader #könig x reader #cod fanfiction #cod headcanons #konig x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #ari writes #cod #anonymous

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏

✧   PAIRING: BANG CHAN X FEM!READER ✧ PLOT: listened to STUCKINMYBRAINAGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?" ✧   CW: fem!reader, overthinking, dating rumor, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms (using alcohol to cope), themes of cheating (there is no actual cheating), reader is written to be of drinking age but age never mentioned, ✧   WC: 1.5K ✧   NOTE: this was kinda sitting in my drafts with a rough idea of a plot then i got an anon requests and it clicked so enjoy

     It had to be a rumor. Right?

     Y/n scrolled through her Twitter, seeing her boyfriend trending wasn’t new but, curiously clicked it to see what he did this time. Only to find it was a dating rumor. 

     At first, she thought that Stay or div-1 caught them out on one of their dates but, as she scrolled, she found that it didn’t even involve her. It was another woman. Photos from afar— like most dating rumor photos were— but Y/n could believe this was her boyfriend and someone else, but it wasn't. Was it?

     Chan was friends with half the K-pop industry and she knew he had female friends. Could it be one of them? Maybe they were just hanging out?

     The longer she looked at the tag, the more her heart ached. Chan spent long hours at the studio working on music for 3RACHA and the kids. What if it wasn't music? Just an excuse to go out with someone else?

     The angel on her shoulder told her Chan would never. He was loyal. The best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But the devil was louder. 

    She got up from the couch and tried to busy herself with anything around the house. Chan had a packed week of schedules and had already told her he was going to crash at the dorms but he promised would text her when he had time—one week of not seeing him. 

     She couldn't even talk to the guys since they all had promotions to do. What if it was a staff member? She felt like she was going to be sick. Turning on their speaker and blasting a playlist— one without any songs her boyfriend had made, which was a hard feat.

     Cleaning the whole apartment while the random Spotify playlist played. She drowned out any noise in her head for as long as she could. Even made dinner for herself and turned on a movie. Silently eating as her phone pinged with a message. She looked at the screen to see the name.

Channie♡: hey baby, just got back to the dorms. How was your day? Y/n♡: okay. Just cleaned the apartment and made dinner. Channie♡: I’m glad you got something to eat love! Are you doing alright without me so far 😉 Y/n♡: yeah. The apartment feels a little empty though. Channie♡: I’m sorry baby 😣 I’m hoping this week goes by fast. I already miss you. Try and get some sleep tonight, okay? Y/n♡: You too. Talk to you later. Channie♡: Yeah, I’ll try and text you more throughout the day, yeah? I love you ❤️ Y/n♡: ily2

     Chan looked at the last text, he knew his girlfriend. She wasn’t one to abbreviate an “I love you”. Maybe she just wasn’t having a good day? Tired maybe? She did say she cleaned the whole apartment. He wished he could at least be with her at night but with all their promoting at the moment, it was just a little easier to stay with the kids at the dorms. He’d check in with her when he woke up, maybe send her some food tomorrow.

     But he noticed the time between her responses got more and more spaced out and cut down to one or two-word answers. He tried asking her what was wrong but she always said she was fine. It was at the end of the week when one of the guy's managers told him about the dating rumor. 

     He immediately thought the same as her. Their relationship was caught by fans or div-1. The staff showed him the photos and immediately knew it wasn’t them. Yeah, the guy had the same height and build as him, dressed similarly, and had his face hidden. He thought it was him too for a moment but it was the girl he was with. Complete opposite of Y/n. 

     He took a closer look at the guy. “That's not me or Y/n. How long has this been out?”

     “All week. We knew it wasn’t either of you but we wanted your confirmation.”

     All week? The same amount of time Y/n had been acting off. “Fuck,” he sighed

     “We can put out a statement denying it and announcing you and Y/n’s relationship,” The manager suggested 

     “Let me talk to her first. I think she already knows about the rumor.” Chan was thankful it was the end of the day and he finished the last schedule. 

     He hurried to make his way back home, calling his girlfriend along the way. No answer. 

     “Hi, you’ve reached Y/n L/n. I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

     “Hi, baby. I’m on my way home. We need to talk when I get there. I love you.”

     Y/n listened to the voicemail but did nothing. One week had her spiraling. She ended up taking out one of their bottles and pouring herself a drink. Just wanting the thoughts to stop at this point. 

     She didn’t know how much she had actually been drinking, just that her world was getting blurry a bit. She didn't even register the front door opening.

     “Y/n?” Chan’s voice called

     He looked around the living room before spotting her in the kitchen. Both kept eye contact before Y/n broke down. Tears slipped from her eyes as she put the glass on the counter. 

     “Baby,” Chan ran over to her and pulled her into his arms.

     “Is there someone else Chan?” Y/n said through tears.

     He noticed the bottle of alcohol and felt worse. She’d known about it all week and said nothing. Thinking worse to the point of drinking. 

     “There’s no one else baby. Let’s get you some water and sit down, okay?”

     “Is she an idol? One of the staff?”

     God his heart broke hearing that. He should have checked Twitter or social media sooner. Slowly he sat her on the floor and quickly grabbed some water from the fridge for her. He sat down across from her and soothed her tears as best he could before getting her to drink the water.

     “Can you look at me, baby?” Chan asked softly

     Y/n looked at him, sniffling as she hugged her knees to her chest.

     “Let’s go take a nap okay? Sober up a bit and then talk. Okay?”

     “Okay…”

     Chan reached his hands towards her to help her up and walk with her to the bedroom. “How much did you drink?”

     “Don’t know. Just wanted to stop thinking about the rumor,” Y/n said as he got her under the covers. “Things are a bit blurry.”

     “Get some sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up and then we can talk.”

    Y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him close. Chan did the same. Not wanting to let her go at the moment. Y/n let his warmth lull her to sleep.

     Both ended up falling asleep till morning. Not intending to but that's what happened. Chan woke up first but refused to get out of bed. First time in a week he got to wake up next to his girlfriend and he wasn’t missing out on anything. 

     He ran his hand through her hair as he looked down at her sleeping form on his chest. Slowly she started the stir, waking to her pretty boyfriend looking at her with stars in his eyes.

     “Good morning baby.”

     “Morning,” she grumbled, cuddling into him more, “I’m sorry.”

     “It’s okay baby. I almost believed it too.”

     “Doesn't excuse me for accusing you of cheating. Should have talked to you when I saw it.”

     “Hey. The company didn't even tell me till yesterday and I knew you had already seen it. I know you get in your head sometimes but, next time you see a dating rumor about me, talk to me.”

     “Don't want any more rumors about you.”

 ��   “They asked me if I wanted to confirm our relationship. Think that’d keep the dating rumors at bay.” Chan smiled and tilted her face up to him, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “If you don't want to, that's fine baby. But I love you either way. You’re the only one I see a future with.”

     Y/n teared up a bit hearing him say that. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him back into a kiss. Chan smiled and pulled her closer to him, moving his lips in sync with hers before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers.

     “Tell Stay about us. I’m okay with the world knowing about us.” Y/n told him

     “Think you're just being possessive baby,” Chan joked.

     “Says you,” Y/n laughed at him

     “I’ll call them later. Right now I need to make up for not being around for a week.”

     Chan kissed her again and rolled her onto her back, smothering her in kisses and cuddles.

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

T A G S ✧ @soulphoenix1618 @hanniemylovelyquokka @hyuneline @scarletbedlam @lillithathecat @cosniffee @caravm @queen-in-the-shadows @moonlight-the-writer @skzhoes @ultimatestayandminoronce @watermelon2319 @poody1608 @iadorethemskz @goblinracha @weakforskz @scallywag1299 @2mins-world @iloveksmohsomuch @stickycrusadecollective @lacie220900 @your-platonic-gay-lover @lvlnijiro @smally97 @lynlyndoll @bbokari711 @liknws @nicora04 @hrskt @lookitsjess @5starlee @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @mini-mews @red-airhead @minhwa @soupbinlily @caitlyn98s @alex--awesome--22 @emyferra08 @yeetmehome @hyunjinswifeee @greyyeti @beautifulcolorgarden @ylixbok @tinyelfperson @mixtape-racha @lovesunshinefelix @princelingperfect @slay-and-gay @the-sweetest-rose

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

#: ̗̀➛karmic writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader angst #bang chan x reader fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #stray kids x reader fluff #stray kids x reader angst #skz x reader fluff #skz x reader angst

[myuminji]

Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]

[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.

Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.

Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.

He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.

The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.

Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"

He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"

Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."

Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."

A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."

Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"

Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"

Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."

Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."

He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"

Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"

Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"

Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"

Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"

He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"

Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."

The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."

Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"

Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.

"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]

[link to Image ID reblog post!]

#''if you can't go to see the world I'll bring the world to you instead'' post trimax vash who often comes back to ww bringing things he foun #and it piles up. alot. #i have up to 8 chp of these tho idt i can draw them all haha #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #trimax spoilers #trigun maximum spoilers #vashwood #centric #/p

[w0rmm1lk]

Texting.

Reader: not mentioned.

characters: all characters i write for (besides kota and eri)

type: can be read as both platonic and romantic

sumarry: how i think the mha characters would text.

warnings: possible swearing, denki being denki.

👾Mina Ashido👾

she abuses her emoji privledges. like nobody will ever receive a message from her that doesn't have an emoji. lots of all caps.

👓Tenya Iida👓

oh you were texting him? bitch writes as if he's writing a formal email. your ass is lucky that he doesn't start that shit off with "I hope this message finds you well.". not even kidding will proof read every message he sends at least twice.

♾️Ochaco Uraraka♾️

will end every message that isnt on a serious topic with :D. its so sweet tbh.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

this man uses so many abbreviations that even if you think you use a lot just know you're learning a new one everyday. not even kidding makes up his own shit. once sent mina "lmkiydthesicci" and nobody could figure out wtf he meant. lowkey flirting with every mssg he sends. every single person in the class, girl or not has received a message from him that just says "hey bbg ;)". he received a very long lecture from iida and a very confused reply from todoroki. todoroki didn't actually know wtf bbg meant. thought he misspelled bbq at first.

🪨Kirishima🪨

unironically sends messages that just say "rawr". uses the :} face a lot bc he thinks it looks like his unbreakable.

🐙Mezou Shoji🐙

i feel like he has such a low screentime that if anyone needs to text him he's only available for like an hour a day. accidentally leaves ppl on read. messages seem very bland usually.

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

another bland person but tbh hes the worst out of them all. like he can look at a whole paragraph asking him if he wants to go to the movies with the rest of the class and all he will reply with is just "ok." uses periods at the end of every message but I swear he's not mad.

💥 Bakugo💥

if he receives any messages past 8pm the "reply" will be you getting left on delivered even if he's still up, or a message just saying "shut the fuck up and go to bed.". also bland but he's more of a "k" bland rather than a "ok." bland.

🥦Izuku Midoryia🥦

he will not even kidding receive a message that just says "hi" and will send a whole paragraph that is basically just a lengthened "hi! how are you?". uses the smiley emoji a lot.

💫Momo Yaoyorozu💫

lots of ! at the end of messages, you can feel the happiness through your phone screen. uses heart emojis at the end of messages and memorizes the meaning of each color so she can use them accordingly.

🖤Shihai Kuroiro🖤

another :} user, sometimes uses :] but mainly :}. only ever texts ppl at hours like 2-4 am. you cant convince me he gets enough sleep.

👔Neito Monoma👔

you think hed text you?/j kinda just an average texter, any message about class 1a will be in all caps.

😈Dabi😈

oh look. another bland ass texter, at least he takes the time to actually type out "okay," only sends emojis if he's talking about how weird the emoji looks.

🔪Himiko Toga🔪

uses :] all the time. not :}, or :). just :]. if anyone texts her, even if its just a simple "hi." and she isn't busy, congrats you've agreed to a 3 hour face time call.

✋Tomura Shigaraki✋

he leaves everyone on read. if you question why he left you on read all you're getting is an "if its so important then talk to me face to face."

🃏Mr. Compress🃏

so you know how earlier i said you were lucky Iida didnt start with "I hope this message finds you well,"? your luck ran out. he writes it like you're a long distant friend who he is sending some fancy ass shit letter to. not even kidding ends each message with "--Compress."

🪽Hawks🪽

types so fast his phone doesnt even register his hands. half his messages be looking like "se tht ouds ood". he doesn't even bother to edit it or correct himself.

👁️Aizawa👁️

he texts like a dad. texting this mf be like:

"ok👍"

"*photo of a weird boat*"

🌙Midnight🌙

miss girl uses so many ;) that its hard to tell if shes suggesting something weird or not. ended every greetings message with that one kissy emoji.

🙂Mirio Togata🙂

uses the 🙂 all the time because he thinks it looks like him. it does.

🌀Nejire Hado🌀

lots of !!! and :D, also uses the :> a lot lol. lots of blue heart emojis aswell.

🦋Tamaki Amajiki🦋

sends articles about different butterflies he likes or thinks the person he sends it to would like along with a message along the lines of "I think this fits you :]". rarely texts first but when he does he clicks send and sitts on the other side of the bed as his phone while staring at it intensely, just waiting for the reply notif. wont actually read the reply for a good minute.

🐈‍⬛Hitoshi Shinsou🐈‍⬛

sends photos of random animals he sees while out and about. usually just cats. (no way this man doesn't feed the strays around ua) another person that only texts at night time.

🛠️Mei Hastume🛠️

uses >:D a lot, shows blueprints of her new babies all the time, ngl they are usually rlly messy. texts are just :

"LOOK AT THIS NEW BABY IN PROGRESS >:D"

"* incomprehensible image of a blueprint *"

⭐Yo Shindo⭐

uses the thumbs up way to much but like in the passive aggresive way yk? but also if you send him a photo of something ur proud of he will reply with a simple "oh that's cool!" but there's so much fucking emotion behind it ur just kinda like ???

🛡Melissa Shield🛡

her messages are so sweet. sunset pictures of the ocean every other day. lots of :).

wrote this is one go and now my hands hate me. i think this was at least 20 characters-? idk I'm struggling to count.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #mina x reader #iida x reader #denki x reader #uraraka x reader #kirishima x reader #shoji x reader #todoroki x reader #deku x reader #momo x reader #shihai x reader #monoma x reader #dabi x reader #toga x reader #shigaraki x reader #mr. compress x reader #hawks x reader #aizawa x reader #midnight x reader #mirio x reader #tamaki x reader #nejire x reader #big three x reader #shinsou x reader #shindo x reader #mei hatsume x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 • alpha!eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 • eddie's chances of being an alpha are quite small. your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none. almost.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 • 10k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 • SMUT (18+ only, technically dubcon due to heat, omegaverse, unprotected sex), knotting, possessiveness and protectiveness, mentions of pregnancy/slight breeding kink, size kink (alpha!eddie is Large in every way), brief trypanophobia warning, mentions of/implied deceased parent (not reader's they're fine),

“The official term is enhanced sexual dimorphism, sometimes abbreviated as ‘ESD’,” Mrs. Mittelman explained, “but, you’re probably all more familiar with the names for the two enhanced sexes: Alpha, and omega.”

You sighed as you rested your chin on your fist.  Health class was always boring, and awkward.  Most of all, it didn’t seem very useful.  In all of Hawkins, you knew of six omegas and eleven Alphas.  Why did the curriculum need to dedicate a whole month to this when you, and everyone you knew, were going to end up not presenting at all and just be betas?

“Due to modern fertility advancements, these sexes are becoming more and more rare,” she continued to explain.  “Alphas and omegas, when in a mated pair, are significantly more fertile than a beta pair.  However, times are changing: after all, I think all of you have beta parents, don’t you?”

You didn’t even know anyone had raised their hand, until Mrs. Mittelman pointed behind you to someone in the back.

“Yes?” she prompted, and you turned around.  You were pretty sure his name was… Freddie?  No, wait— Eddie.  You’d seen him around, and he was sort of hard to forget with his… ostentatious styling, but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him talk in class before.

“Uh, actually,” he cleared his throat, “my mom was an omega.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Mittelman nodded, looking a little wide-eyed.  “I didn’t realize that.  Well, then maybe some of what we’re talking about today will be more familiar to you.  I hope you’ll bear with us.”

Was.  There’s no going back after presenting, of course, so she must not be around anymore.  You saw him look down, and wondered if he regretted bringing it up at all, before you returned your focus to the board where the teacher was pointing to some particularly uninteresting charts.

“The window of development for Alphas and omegas is actually very narrow: about ninety percent of enhanced sexual presentations take place at age twenty-one,” she continued.  “The odds of presenting after age twenty-two are so astronomically low, that anyone who turns twenty-three without presenting is immediately registered as a beta.  Can anyone remember from this week’s assigned reading—”

Everyone groaned, realizing she was about to spring a pop quiz on the class.

“— what an individual’s odds are of presentation if their parents are an Alpha and an omega?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and the teacher pointed to her.  “Um, eighty-two percent?”

“Correct!” Mrs. Mittelman smiled.  “Okay, what about the odds of presentation if one’s parents were one Alpha and one beta?”

The boy that sat next to you on the right— James Richey, which you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t been paired with him on far too many assignments— raised his hand.  “Forty-five percent,” he answered.

“Ohh, a little lower,” she winced with her gentle correction, “anyone else wanna give that a try?”

Intimidated by James’ folly, it took an awkward pause for someone else to take a guess.  It was your closest friend in class, and likely in the whole school, Helen.  “Thirty?” she proposed.

“Well, twenty-nine, but yes,” Mrs. Mittelman.  “What about if the pair is one beta and one omega?  Mr. Munson, you should know this one— since it applies to you.”

The whole class turned back to look at Eddie, who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.  “You see,” he began, “I agree with you that I should know that but, uh, I didn’t exactly… read the chapter.”

Mrs. Mittelman sighed slowly.  “Right, um, well… maybe someone else who did can tell us?”

“Twelve percent,” somebody behind you, from the other side, announced, and the teacher smiled.

“Yes!  That’s right,” she replied.  “Okay, last one: how likely is one to present if their parents are both betas?”

You raised your hand, because this one was the easiest to remember.  When you were called on, you answered: “The odds are less than one percent.”

“Yes, good job,” she smiled.  “Congratulations!  You all passed today’s pop quiz.  Your prize is… not having a pop quiz tomorrow.”

The bell rang; everyone reached for their backpacks and sighed with relief.  

“Tomorrow, we’ll be covering the rest of the chapter, so if you forgot to read it,” she said pointedly, “now’s the time to do so!”

You didn’t know a lot about the guy— hell, you’d forgotten his name— but you figured Eddie Munson was not going to read the chapter, even when given a second chance.  You don’t end up on your third senior year by reading the assigned material.  I wonder if it bothers him, being twenty years old and still in high school, you wondered, it would sure bother me.

But that was the last time you thought about Eddie Munson for about two weeks.  You didn’t plan on thinking about him again until maybe graduation, which you did hope to see him at, but you were forced to wonder about him when he was absent from class for an entire week.  Frankly, you were pretty sure he couldn’t afford a vacation.  A rumor had spread that he was in jail for dealing marijuana, but that was all you had to work with.  Helen thought maybe he was gone for good, moved back in with some other family— you hadn’t even known before this that he lived with his uncle, so maybe his dad was somewhere out there and he was spending time with him.

All the rumors were dispelled in an instant when Eddie returned.  As near-impossible as it seemed, it was even more impossible to deny when you saw it for yourself.

You were ten minutes into the midterm exam for Mrs. Mittelman’s health class when the door opened; in a silent room, it was instinctive to look up, but you choked when you saw him come in.  It was Eddie, for sure— that hair and Hellfire Club tee were unmistakable— but he was… different.

Completely different.

He was taller, to the point that Mrs. Mittelman was craning her neck to look up at him (though to be fair, she was already pretty short).  He was… bigger, specifically more muscular— his body was straining against his clothes, the half-sleeve of his shirt exposed the prominent veins of his forearm, even his ripped jeans struggled to hold him in anymore.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly to the bewildered teacher, and even when he deliberately spoke softly, his voice was clearly deeper.  She handed him a blank exam and he attempted to slip through the rows of desks to find his own seat.  You certainly weren’t the only pair of eyes following him across the classroom, or the only one noticing the way he struggled to fit back behind his own desk due to his radical change in size.  He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair, starting to take his test— and either not noticing, or successfully ignoring, the stares he was receiving.

At the same time, you and Helen looked at each other with wide eyes, and she mouthed something to you: What the fuck?!

Your entire class was specifically prepared to appreciate the anomaly of probability that this was.  Still, statistics be damned, it was clear that in the time Eddie Munson had disappeared, he’d become an Alpha.

Three months later…

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “that’s bull and you know it.”

“I’m not sure if you really believe that that attitude is going to help you in any way,” Principal Higgins frowned, “but to be completely clear: it will not.  Three dress code violations add up to an after-school detention.”

“But these are stupid violations!” you insisted.  “It’s not like I was walking around in a mini-skirt— look, this one says my sneakers were untied!  That’s ridiculous.”

“Arguing with me is considered disrespect of authority,” Higgins reminded you, leaning in closer, “which is also punishable by after-school detention.  I’d recommend that you stop now before you end up with two dates with me this week.”

You shut your eyes to stop yourself from rolling them, but relented.  That said, you were playing the interaction over and over in your mind as you sat at that desk in detention, arms crossed and lips curled in a sneer as you imagined really telling him off instead of laying down at taking it.

You jumped when the opening of the door startled you out of your fantasy, and there was Eddie— wow, he was even late to detention.

You looked down sheepishly as he crossed the room and took his seat, but once he was settled in front of you and off to the side, you had your first chance to get a good look at him after his… transformation.

It was a good thing his jacket was sleeveless, because it didn’t look like his arms would’ve fit through the sleeves if it had them.  It wasn’t that he was just outrageously ripped now or something, or that he was specifically some outrageous height… he was just big.  Alphas were built that way.  He towered over nearly everyone in school now; he stopped getting bullied immediately after he came back, that must’ve been a nice perk.  Still, for a guy who got so massive and so well-known practically overnight (or in this case, overweek), he didn’t seem that… happy?  

You looked down into your lap again.  Who were you to judge his emotions?  You didn’t know anything about him.  It was just that, well, he’d had a reputation for his antics and dramatic behavior before, but lately he was uncharacteristically quiet.  He never made a scene in the cafeteria anymore, he never talked back to teachers (which he’d apparently done plenty before, you’d seen it once or twice and Helen said it happened near-daily with Ms. O’Donnell), he was just… existing.  Maybe he was finally being normal.  The only problem with that theory is that, while you didn’t like to buy into stereotypes, you were confident that Eddie Munson would’ve been among the first to become better behaved after presenting as an Alpha.

You weren’t trying to be sexist, really!  Alphas were hormonally predisposed to aggression and impulsiveness, it was just a fact of the matter, especially when omegas or other Alphas were involved.  To be fair, that wasn’t really an issue in his case, in a school where literally no other students had ESD.  Technically, there was one other Alpha here, but he was a teacher… he was not only mated, but mature, and no one was exactly worried that he and Eddie were going to end up brawling on the lawn or something.  Alphas were always fighting over unmated omegas anyways, of which there weren’t any in Hawkins.

It made you wonder why Eddie stayed, if he had no chance of finding a true mate here.  Alphas and betas didn't get together very often, for reasons that weren’t explained in much detail in your health textbook.

Torn from your thoughts by the Principal clearing his throat and addressing the room, you looked up quickly.  “Now,” he began sternly, “all my regulars know I believe in working detention— labor is good for the soul!  And there’s lots of work to do on campus today so you three,” he gestured at some boys in the front, “you’re gonna be in the garden out front with our landscapers.  And you four in the back, you’re sweeping up the wood shop before you give our gymnasium a good mop.”

The other students stood, and you glanced at Eddie as you realized he was the only other person left sitting.

“Uhh, you two,” Higgins noticed, “you can go clean the cafeteria.  But we’re all out of mops, so, just grab some rags.”

“Rags?” Eddie noticed.  “We’re cleaning the entire cafeteria floor with rags?”

“Oh, not just the floor.  Table and chairs too.”

“Hopefully not in that order,” you breathed.

“Get to it,” he snapped, and Eddie gave you a quick look over his massive, hard shoulder before shrugging— god, his neck just seemed thicker when he did that.

Your eyes still found themselves lingering on the hulking mass of his body as the two of you were on your hands and knees wiping the laminate cafeteria floor.

"So," Eddie broke the silence, "you, uh… I haven't seen you in detention before."

"No," you agreed, "this is actually my first time."

"Oh wow," he smiled, "a detention virgin!  Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

You snorted, shaking your head as you looked at the floor again, but the off-color joke made you feel a little strange.  You blinked quickly and tried to get the image of Eddie being gentle out of your head.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"Dress code," you nodded.

"Woah!  Something skimpy?"

"Not at all," you chuckled, "just, like, ripped jeans and a visible bra strap?  Apparently?"

"Aw, that's a shame," he smirked.  "I was thinking I missed you showing up in some sweet little number."

You raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, mainly because your throat was suddenly a little dry.

"A-anyways," he mumbled, "I'm sorry you're here."

"Ditto," you offered, "but I know you're here kind of a lot."

"Yeah," he sighed, focusing harder on one spot that he rubbed with the rag intensely, "not as much as I used to be, but yeah…"

"Used to be… before…" you pressed.

"Before I… got big, yeah," he nodded.

An interesting way of describing it.  Certainly an accurate way.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "I skipped class, that's what they popped me for this time."

"Which class?"

"Shop."

"Oh god, I don't blame you, that's my least favorite class," you hummed.

"Really?  People always say they like it cause it's easy," he shrugged, "thought I was the only one that hated it."

"No, it's so annoying!" you assured.  "First of all, most people aren't being safe and I'm always on edge thinking somebody's about to lose a finger— and the assignments are so stupid!  Building birdhouses and clocks?  Like, isn't the whole point of a high school education to be able to get a job so I can afford to just buy a birdhouse for a dollar?"

"I don't mind the part where we build stuff," he admitted, "I just don't like that we have to build it exactly like he says.  Why can't there be some room for creativity?"

You nodded in agreement, clearing your throat quietly but not quite getting the catch in it; you were looking at the floor, and noticed that you were seeing spots, but simply tried to blink them away.

"I hate it even more now that I keep accidentally breaking stuff…" he continued, trailing off.

"Accidentally?"

"I'm still getting used to it… I'm stronger, you know."

Was it warm in here all of a sudden?  When you first came in, it was a little chilly— normally this room was filled with warm bodies to heat it up, so it was pretty cold when it was empty… or, it had been.  Now you were starting to feel your clothes cling to you, face beginning to flush. 

"I broke a hammer.  Splintered the handle— I guess I was holding it too hard…"

That was when you lost your balance and had to sit on the floor, leaning back against the leg of a table.  The orange light of dusk, coming in through the blinds in stripes, was blurry and disorienting.  A numb heat started to rush through your body, and the quick shallow breaths that filled your lungs did little to keep you from getting dizzy.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice— his hand was hesitantly holding your shoulder now, and just that made you soothe slightly.  “You okay?”

"I…" you began, but you didn't know what to say.  “Eddie,” you said softly, “I don’t… I feel weird.”

His hand moved up to your forehead, and you sighed and shut your eyes to savor every moment of his touch.  “Christ, you’re burning up.”

Your hands reached out blindly, grabbing onto his thick thigh through his jeans.  You heard him cough slightly.  “Something’s wrong, just… just need you to stay with me,” you breathed.

"Um, o-okay," he agreed hesitantly, kneeling in front of you.  

It was like a sharp pain— a tightness that twisted inside you— and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as your sneakers slid on the tile.

"Do you need some water?" he wondered, and when his hand cradled your face for a second, you shuddered and relaxed against the table leg behind you.

"No, I just need… I…" you panted.  Just touch me more, you thought, though you didn't understand why.  Another pang hit your gut and you clutched your stomach, hunching forward with a wince.

"I-I'm gonna get the nurse," he promised, but you suddenly grabbed onto his arms tightly, stopping him from getting up.

"No, don't go," you panted, "don't leave— you can't leave me here, Eddie!"

"Okay, okay!  I'm not gonna leave!" he promised, frustrated at first but softening up when he saw how scared you were.  "I'm not gonna leave, I swear."

"I don't know what's happening," you whispered under your breath.  "God— what's happening to me?"

"You're just…" he began, trailing off, "you're— fuck, I don't know.  But I think it's… I don't know how, but I think you might be—"

"Just tell me!" you sobbed.

You were clawing at his jacket, desperate to touch his skin, desperate for anything he would give you.  That was when you first felt the heat gather between your legs, a pulse inside you just before a gush of wetness that almost made you worry you were wetting yourself— until you felt it, felt that need arch your back and throb in your channel.  It felt like being turned on, it wasn’t like you’d never felt that before, but it was so much more intense that it almost felt like a new sensation entirely.  Even though your mind didn't understand what was going on, your body was calling out for him: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—

Something changed in the air then.

"What did you call me?"

His voice was just as dark as his eyes, and suddenly you stilled.  Oh god, you'd said it out loud.

"Say it again," he ordered; for what little you knew about all this, you knew why your body gave into his demand like it couldn't do anything else but obey. 

"Alpha," you whimpered, looking up at him.  But you knew what he was already— right then, you were realizing what you were.  Only omegas were susceptible to an Alpha's voice like that.  This isn't possible, this is not possible… I'm too young, my parents are betas, how is this happening to me?

"You're going to be okay," he promised, "I know… I know it hurts.  But I can make it better, I can help you."

You nodded, panting, going along with it because you just needed him, needed the help he was promising.  You felt dizzy and delirious, but somehow the feeling was sort of addictive— like you craved the cure as much as the sickness.  With Eddie here, it was tolerable, even though the waves of pain made you shudder and whine through your teeth.

“I’m gonna help you,” he whispered, again.

You blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes, and saw the dark shimmer in his own— his pupils had blown out wide, his nostrils were flaring; he kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts, and it made his fluffy hair rustle.  “How?” you finally asked.

His hands tightened as they gripped your shoulders, and you clutched at his chest, whimpering under your breath as you felt the strong muscle under his thin shirt and hot skin.  “Do you trust me?” he replied instead of answering.

You nodded.  “Anything, Alpha, please—”

“Fuck,” he choked, and you gasped as his face buried in the crook of your neck.  His nose brushed against your jaw, his mouth was right up against your pulse as he spoke.  “I can smell you, you know— I can smell what you are.  It’s… I read about it, but I never knew…”

Your eyes had already fluttered shut as you hung off of him, and you could smell him too; you were so overstimulated that it was hard to focus on it, but it was sort of musky and warm and smoky— and sweet.  Like a Christmas fireplace with roasted chestnuts and caramel just starting to toast on the stove; it was like a memory you hadn’t lived yet, nostalgia for a home you never had.

You whimpered slightly as he pulled away, reaching out for more of his touch, but he just looked at you with his mouth open a bit to let his heavy breathing pass through.  “I— I can help you, I’m gonna help you,” he kept insisting, speaking hurriedly as he opened his belt and jeans.  It was slightly disconcerting, but your need was growing and you were in no place to reject his help— not when searing pain bloomed from your gut, crawled up your back and into your mind where it demanded the touch of an Alpha.

Still, you had some sense left in you.  As well as plenty of fear; your eyes nearly popped out of your head when they caught a glimpse of his cock.  "No— no way," you shook your head, trying to scoot away, "it won't… it can't—"

"It'll fit," he insisted, his grip tightening for a moment on his concerningly-massive erection, "you're an omega.  You're made to take it."

Even as terror clawed at your mind, arousal was coursing through your veins; hearing him talk like that, seeing his body, it all called to something incredibly primal inside you.  Something you didn't even know you had… technically, maybe you didn't until just now.  Or maybe it was always there, waiting for Eddie— after all, you'd presented after being around him for the longest (and closest) you ever had.  

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he breathed, but you could hear his desperation, too.  It must be hard, presenting young in a town like Hawkins where all the omegas are already long-since mated and married— and maybe a little mature for a twenty-year-old anyways, if that mattered.  And as for betas, well, you'd heard that it was… difficult, for Alphas and betas to mate.  Now you saw directly why: it could kill them, trying to take this.  You were still afraid it would kill you.  "It won't hurt, it's… it's going to feel good.  It's natural."

"Okay," you nodded, "okay, just… talk me through this, please— Alpha, I'm scared…"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.  It should've been awkward, hugging a relative stranger, but it was so comforting… you sighed and held him, too, a bit of the ache inside you stilling.  And yet, your anticipation was growing: you felt another wave of slick start to leak out of you, and you whimpered slightly.

"Please," you whispered, "help me… I want you to."

"Shit," he blurted out, letting you go just long enough to peel his jacket off quickly.  "Just lay down, okay?" he offered as he put the jacket down on the floor behind you, not much padding from the hard tile but at least some protection from the coldness of it.  

You laid back, shivering as he climbed on top of you.  "Have you ever done this before?" you asked suddenly.  "Not just sex— helping an omega, specifically…"

It was kind of a stupid question, because where the fuck were these hypothetical omegas Eddie might have been with?  But you weren’t exactly thinking straight at the moment, understandably.  "Well, uh, no," he mumbled, "but I think I know how to do it.  I mean, I think I've always known— I couldn't tell you how, but… I can feel it."

You swallowed nervously.

"Trust me," he insisted.  "I know how much it hurts, I… just trust me.”

He was alone when he presented, after all; you finally put that together, and the thought of it inexplicably made your heart twist.  You knew nothing of the perils of presentation for an Alpha, but if anything like this… and he didn’t have anyone to hold him like he held you, to tell him it would be okay, to take the pain away… god, how did he survive it?

When he started to lift up your shirt, you did your best to help him— the wave of cool air on your overheated skin was almost a relief, until suddenly you were freezing.  You pulled him down close to you, feeling the warmth of him even through his shirt, and sighed happily.

He helped you out of your pants next, and you should've felt incredibly strange being completely naked in your fucking cafeteria.  But you didn't, you felt better even, you felt more natural than ever as his eyes drank you in and his hands carefully parted your thighs.

"See, all this— this is your slick," he explained, dragging two fingers through your swollen folds until you jolted from his touch.  

There was so much, you'd nearly soaked through your jeans, and just one swipe had soaked his thick fingers with clear, shiny arousal.

"It's gonna help you," he continued, panting slightly as he stared at his glistening hand.  "Fuck, you can smell it, right?  It smells so good."

You could smell something, but you wouldn't necessarily call it good… it was sort of earthy and sour, not like a perfume or candy or something.  Maybe it smelled different to him, or maybe he was just attracted to it anyway.  

"I think if Mr. Maxwell was here, he'd be able to smell it— from anywhere in the building," Eddie explained.  Mr. Maxwell was the only Alpha teacher at Hawkins High… you were suddenly very thankful he wasn't here.  He certainly didn't seem like the type to go after his own student for being a brand-new omega, but what did you know?

"What would happen, if he did?" you mumbled.  "If he smelled me?"

Eddie considered that for a second.  "I… I don't know.  I think he's able to control himself."

Well, that response begged a new question: "Can you?"

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his gaze still trained on where your thighs glistened with your need.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "If you asked me to go now…"

He tensed his jaw, and met your gaze.

"I don't know if I could stop," he informed you sternly.  "So don't ask me to, and we won't have to find out."

You shuddered and nodded; you wouldn’t ask him to stop, not when you needed him this badly.  Not when the idea of being alone, of being away from him, made your gut sink.

Still, your heart was racing— you wondered if he could hear it, too, since it was deafening inside your own head— as he reached for you, that intimidating cock still curling up from his opened jeans.

He gripped it with one hand, petting your thigh with the other, guiding himself right up against you; your quivering cunt flexed against itself, another wave of slick leaking down to the floor under you— coating him, before he was even inside.

“Trust me,” he breathed, “trust me— please, let me do this.  Tell me I can fuck you.”

“Y-you can fuck me, Alpha, please,” you whined.

Holding on tight to your hip, he pushed his thick head inside; you were crooning and gasping already, trying to push down for more even though it was already almost too much, but his strong grip kept you still and perfectly helpless.

“More,” you begged under your breath, “god, please?  Wan’ everything, need all of you— Alpha, my Alpha…”

His tongue and lips were all over your neck, hair tickling your chest and face.  “So good, omega, you’re doing s’good, just stay still.”

It didn’t hurt until he was halfway in, and you whined loudly as you grabbed at his thigh under your own, hoping to slow him down.  He was breathing just as hard as you, hot air spreading over your skin that was wet with his spit now, sensitive from the assault of his lips and teeth.

He didn’t warn you that he was going to give you the rest, he just pushed it in all at once and groaned as you choked out your sob.

"Fuck," he said with a gasp, "I— ah, god— I didn't know it would be like this…"

And neither did you, you didn't know how quickly your pain would fade and your body would give in to him.  He was right, it didn't hurt much… there was a sting, yes, and a stretch, but it was good pain.  It was pain you were made to take, like he said.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.  You could only nod; words had abandoned you.  Well, except one.

"Alpha," you moaned, and you heard him growl beside your neck.

"I'm here, omega," he promised.  "I'm gonna give you what you need… you're gonna be okay, you're safe."

You held on tighter to his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck, and he started to move.  The stretch was so intense that your legs were shaking with every movement, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything, you wouldn’t give up this friction inside you for the world right now— it was a salve for the pain that had been clawing you open from the inside out, but just as intense as the pain had been, now you had this hunger instead.  This… need.

“Feels so good,” you heard him whisper against your ear, “fuck, omega, you feel so good inside, you were made for me.  You were made for this, I know— I know you’re mine.”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip.  As he held you close and moved inside you, time moved differently— slower, but all at once, like you were stuck in a dream.

Everything else faded away— the fear that someone would walk in, the awareness of where you were and how this happened, anxiety and confusion and pain— and you were just drowning in every sensation: his tongue laving at your neck, his fingers holding your waist tightly, his cock inside you and stretching you.  He didn’t say much at first, he didn’t need to, but when you shuddered and another wave of slick leaked out around him, you felt him smirk.  “So wet,” he praised, “so good for your Alpha.  Do it again.”

You were almost self-conscious about how wet you were, maybe you would've been if it wasn't for Eddie being enraptured by it— he was looking down at where your bodies were joined, amazed as he watched you soak his cock over and over with more of your arousal.  You could hear it, the filthy wet sounds somewhat distant and fuzzy in your ringing ears, and your face was hot— your whole head was feverish, really, and your eyes were teary just from how overwhelmingly wonderful it felt.

"Fuck," you heard him grunt under his breath, "it's so— god, how do you feel?  Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to try to tell him that it was perfect, he was perfect, but only a pathetic moan came out; you nodded quickly instead.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.  "You look beautiful like this— so pretty for me."

A pained whine jumped out through your teeth— even though you felt good, his words brought back some of that ache from before, and your back arched up off the floor dramatically.

You were about to relax a bit and lay flat again, until you felt his hand move up your thigh, over your mound where his palm rested while his thumb brushed over your clit.  Your body jolted; you were confident you'd never been that sensitive there before.

"Alpha!" you whimpered.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "you need to come— it's gonna help you.  You trust me, right?  Let me help you."

But the feeling inside you was already pushing you to your limits— his cock was already so deep that it felt like it was going to hit the back of your brain or something.  

He rubbed your clit as fast as he could, holding your hips steady with his other hand so you couldn't try to buck away from his touch.  You convulsed and moaned, holding onto him with all your fading strength.

“Alpha, Alpha, please!” you sobbed.  “It’s— too much!”

“No, you can take it,” he promised roughly under his breath.  “Just come for me, let go, little omega— please, let go for your Alpha, this is what you need.  You need to come for me— come, right now.”

Shivering and crying loudly, your body went limp— except for inside, where you were pulsing uncontrollably, bearing down on his thick length.  It was so intense, it almost hurt, and yet it was your favorite pain you ever felt.

You hadn’t noticed that your hands were grabbing his arm until they let go, leaving just a bit of moisture on his sleeve from the clamminess.  “Did you…?” he began to ask.  “I mean, is it better now?  It hurts less?”

You tried to process his questions, but you were still coming down from it, still catching your breath.  “It’s… it’s a little better.”

“You need more?” he asked, and fuck, it was a totally genuine question, but the way he said it…

Nodding, you pulled him down on top of you and buried your face in his neck.  “Just don’t stop,” you pleaded, “Alpha— don’t stop, m’gonna be good for you…”

It was impossible to define what compelled you to say that, but it didn’t really matter.  Your first orgasm had numbed your body and mind enough to let you just submit to your instincts, to trust not only your Alpha, but your own body and its ability to do what it was made to do.  It felt better, when you stopped worrying and accepted your place.

And no, despite what some sexists might say, your place was not beneath.  Your place was not serving, pleasing, obeying.  Your place was simply in his arms.  Your place was with your Alpha.

“I— fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admitted lowly.  “You just… you feel so good, omega, you’re my omega, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you promised.

“Loved feeling you come on me,” he grunted through his teeth, “can you do it again?  If I tell you to?”

“I’ll do— I’ll do a-anything you tell me to,” you stuttered as you tried to swallow past the dryness in your throat from panting so hard.

“Then come,” he demanded again, renewing the movements of his thumb on your clit— but honestly, you didn’t even need it.  Just his voice, just an Alpha’s voice ordering you (as well as the overly-sensitive feeling your last orgasm had left behind) was enough to send you over the edge in just a few moments.  He praised you all the way through it, every kind word like another shock of ecstasy through your body.  “So good,” he said again, rough and deep as he rested his head on your shoulder, “so good for me, omega— feels so good when I make you come.”

You smiled through your exhaustion because it felt so good to make him feel good— to know you were pleasing him.  

"You know what's gonna happen, don't you?" he whispered.  "I'm gonna… knot you."

"Fuck, please," you choked.

"It might hurt a little," he warned, "but it's gonna— fuck, s'gonna be so good, if you just trust me."

"I trust you, Alpha," you promised.  "Want your knot, please…"

“Beautiful,” he grunted as he fucked you harder and faster, “my beautiful omega— mine.”

You whined through your teeth, clutching his shoulders tighter.  “Alpha!”

“Whose omega are you?”

“Y-yours,” you choked, “yours, Alpha, Alpha…”

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours!  Yours, Eddie—”

He cut you off with a rough kiss right away; you didn’t even question it.  You felt him coming inside you and your mind went blank, your body went crazy, your senses went haywire.  He was coming inside you, and nothing had ever felt so good.  You sobbed with joy, holding onto him tighter as you felt the base of his cock swelling— you already thought you were at your limits, and yet his knot kept growing inside you and you just kept taking it.

“Alpha,” you whispered with the last of your breath.

He couldn't move as much with the knot growing, keeping him buried inside you, but he still ever-so-slightly rocked your body, grinding his hips against yours.

You fell back onto his jacket on the floor with a sigh, panting so hard you thought your chest might not fit all the air you were gasping for.  Finally you felt almost like yourself again, almost lucid, though still sort of numb all over; which, considering the incredible fullness inside you, was a good thing.

You tried to adjust your hips, wincing as it disturbed the delicate balance within you.  Your bodies were interlocked now, and your returning logical mind remembered that this part might last for a while— that was the whole point, evolutionarily speaking.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, finally stilling completely and propping himself up on his arms above you.  You watched him catch his breath, admiring the shape of his jaw, the way his lashes looked extra long when his eyes were shut and they fell over his cheeks; you reached up and brushed some hair away from his face, and that seemed to get his attention.  “I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“What?  Eddie, no— thank you, thank you so much,” you sighed, “the pain’s gone.”

“For now,” he warned.  “It’ll come back— if it’s anything like mine was.  You’ll need more… a lot more.”

You worried, for a moment, that he was telling you that you needed more than he could give.  You couldn’t imagine anyone or anything else helping you now— you needed him, that much was clear.  You grabbed a handful of his shirt, and he looked down at that hand on him before he looked at your face again.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“Like this?” you panted.   “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

“N-no, my home,” he corrected, and you were surprised, yet somehow you soothed at the same time.  “I-it’s not much, just a trailer, but you can nest there and I can… I can take care of you.”

Your heart was singing; you’d never been cared for before.  You never wanted to admit that you needed it.

~

You were sort of on autopilot; you’d been gathering random linens and clothes of Eddie’s and piling them on the corner of the bed.  You couldn’t say exactly… why, but Eddie explained it was natural.  At least when you were doing this, you weren’t so needy that he had to stay and hold you— he could actually go out and get some provisions for the both of you.  

He told you that this whole thing could take up to a week, but you could stay here and Wayne was going to find somewhere to crash until you were done; he told you it was going to get worse before it got better, and come and go in waves.  Most importantly, he told you that he would do whatever he could to help you.

You could hardly believe he was a near-total stranger to you this morning.  There was still an awkwardness there, especially on his part, but you felt this impossible connection with him now— you felt so safe with him, in fact you never felt safe without him.  Which was why you smiled with excitement the moment you heard his van pull up outside.

By the time he was at the door, you were already opening it for him.  “Hi,” you beamed.

“Hey,” he smiled back, a bit more hesitant.

You reached for the grocery bags.  “L-lemme help you with those—”

“Nooo way,” he denied as he lifted them over your head while he stepped past you, “let the big strong Alpha do it, sweetheart.”

The door swung shut and you thought you could swoon.  Sweetheart.  This kind of shit would’ve made you roll your eyes yesterday.  Now you were such a sucker for it, and he was just being friendly.

“Plenty of food for the next few days,” he explained as he sorted the contents of his bag into either the pantry or fridge.  “Nothing, you know, fancy, but… it’ll keep your energy up.  And mine.”

You watched him, clutching your hands together in front of you, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were waiting on.  You just liked watching him, really.

“Oh!  I got some ice packs too,” he remembered.  “You might get really hot, o-or crampy, so those can help a lot.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling.  He shut the pantry door that he’d been leaning behind and looked over at you.  After a quick moment, he stepped up in front of you, and you tilted your head back to look up at him; he smiled, and reached up to hold your face in his hand.

Looking straight forward, you were right at eye-level with his Hellfire Club shirt.  You reached to where it ended, just beside his black faux-leather belt, and you started to lift it up off of him.  Smirking a bit, he helped you take it off of him— you immediately held the ball of fabric up to your face, inhaling his scent.  You hardly even noticed his toned chest dotted with hair and tattoos, you were too busy realizing you’d just found the perfect final piece for your nest.

You ran to the bedroom and pounced onto the bed, stuffing the shirt in with the other clothes and things, smiling contentedly as you buried yourself in them.  A long, deep inhale filled your lungs with the smell of Alpha, and it made everything feel alright.

You felt the bed dip as Eddie climbed onto the mattress with you, and you poked your head out from your little cave.  “Doin’ alright in there?” he asked, and you bit your lip as you nodded.  “I’ll just leave you be until you need—”

“No,” you interjected quickly, grabbing his guitar pick necklace and tugging him closer.  “No, stay here… you were just gone for so long…”

“Yeah, we needed food,” he reminded you.

“But I didn’t like you being gone,” you breathed.

“I thought you were okay with it!  You said I could go,” he remembered.

“Y-yeah, but then, you know…” you trailed off.  Your eyes wandered over his bare torso, over his arms and shoulders…

When you looked at his face again, he was smiling a little, and he reached up to push his hair out of his face.  “But then?” he prompted.

“I just missed you more than I thought I would,” you sighed.

“Yeah?” he hummed, scooting up on the bed to be even closer to you.  “I missed you more than I thought I would, too.  I probably still reek of you— and your slick.”

You whimpered.  “Do I smell like you?”

“You fucking better,” he said plainly, like it wasn’t so hot that your thighs quivered briefly.

He pulled you close to him, pressing your face against his chest; when you breathed in, you got a big whiff of his skin, of the heady scent of your Alpha.  It silenced every anxiety in your mind and body, and you realized you’d never felt this comfortable— this safe— in your life.  Something instinctive told you that you were going to be protected and loved; you felt whole.

You snuggled into his arms, nuzzling at his chest, and he sighed as he kissed your head.  “You’re cute,” he informed you quietly, and you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Really?” you hummed, and he nodded.  “You’re… big.”

He laughed.  “I’m still getting used to it,” he admitted.  “All of it.”

Your eyes drifted to his chest in front of you, and your fingers drew random shapes in his thin body hair— then moved to trace his tattoos.  “What’s it like?” you asked.  “Going through all this…”

"It's… honestly, it sucks," he laughed lightly.  "It's like puberty all over again."

"Fuck."

"But worse."

"God," you whined, letting your head fall onto his chest.  "Tell me I'm not gonna have to do this alone."

His hand reached up and pet your head.  "You're not gonna have to do this alone."

Your heart hurt as you imagined him doing this alone— of course, presenting is different for Alphas and omegas, they have ruts while you have heats, but it must be similar compared to everything else.

"Are we gonna… do we need to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"About how we woke up this morning as basically total strangers," he replied.  "About how I wasn't even sure if you knew my name.  And now we… now I…"

You nodded against him.  “It’s weird how right it feels.  Like, I know I should be questioning it.”  You tilted your head up to put your temple on his shoulder, so you could look at his face.  “I know it shouldn’t make any sense.  But it does.”

“Maybe it’s always like that,” he wondered.

“Maybe,” you offered.

He kissed your forehead.  “Or,” he breathed, “maybe it’s just that you really were always supposed to be mine.”

You didn’t reply to that with words, just a shiver and an arm slipping around his torso to hold onto him tighter.  As much as it was far too romantic for anything you were willing to believe, there was a growing mountain of evidence that implied he was right— that you were his from the start.  First of all, you presented early, and suddenly, when you were close to him for a while.

His gentle kisses moved in a path down your face, finding your neck and teasing you there carefully.  “Do you like being mine?” he asked softly.  You nodded as you held onto him tighter, moaning when he dragged his teeth over your skin.  “I’m so fuckin’ lucky, got this pretty omega all to myself.  Every Alpha’s dream— sweet little cunt in heat to breed.”

He rolled you onto your back and descended on you, pressing his body weight into you, and you spread your legs without even thinking about it.  

It wasn’t as bad as the first wave, but it still made you hot and needy, it still robbed you of logical thinking and turned you into a desperate, mewling little thing beneath him.  You were too caught up in the dreamy fog of it all to even be embarrassed, to care about begging for him so pathetically— he didn’t even have to make you beg, he never teased you, he gave you everything you wanted.  Still, you were a broken record: please, Alpha, fuck me— need you, Alpha, please, please—

“Knot me,” you begged, too, and he groaned as he held you tighter.  “Please, s’the only thing that makes the pain go away, please?  Alpha, give me your knot, wanna be full—”

“Shh,” he soothed, “I know, I know, baby… but maybe— fuck, maybe I should pull out this time.”

“No, please!” you sobbed.  “Feels so good when your knot’s inside me, Alpha.”

“You could… you can get pregnant,” he reminded you thinly, even though it was sort of obvious— that’s the point of all this, biologically.  “It’s not as likely your first heat, you’re still just presenting, but… you could.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed, “just please, Alpha, come in me again, please please—”

“Okay,” he promised with kisses all over your face, “it’s okay, I will, m’gonna help you.  Just need you to come one more time first.”

“Can’t,” you shook your head, but then again, you’d said that last time and he still made you do it.

“C’mon, omega, just wanna feel one more?  You can do it,” he cooed, “you can leak a little more slick with that pretty hole, I know you can, I know— it’s gonna hurt but it’s worth it, just one more…”

You were about to tell him you really couldn't do it, that three was your official limit, even though your heat-brain hated the idea of saying no to Alpha.

"Just one more," he pleaded, "for me, sweetheart?"

And before you knew it, you were nodding and bracing yourself, letting every sensation wash over you even though you might explode from being so overwhelmed.  You didn't explode in a literal sense, but you almost felt like you did— it hit you like a train and you sobbed out his name pathetically as you tried to take it all.

His knot swelled inside you a moment later, bringing the only real relief you got from this.  Eddie seemed to think that your orgasms were the key to staving off your heat-induced delirium, but it was his that soothed your body and mind the most.

Those moments you spent forced to be near him as you both waited for the swelling to go down enough for him to pull out… those were the moments you could think clearest, but your sanity was wasted on simply laying there letting him coo at you gently, praising you, kissing your face and neck.  Those were the moments you really remembered that this was Eddie Munson, that guy in health class, a relative stranger— and everything you needed.

"Oh, it’s all messed up,” you mumbled as you looked up at the pile of clothes you’d carefully arranged on the bed, seeing it had toppled over in the heat of the moment.  You tried to reach for it to fiddle with it, but Eddie laughed softly as he guided your face to look at him again.

“Welcome back,” he greeted, pecking the end of your nose with a kiss.  “The nest can wait— just talk to me for a minute, please?”

You smiled and kissed him back on the lips— just for a second, until he held your face tighter with both hands and kissed you harder and longer.  You hummed into it, feeling him smile against you, and he finally let go to nuzzle his face into your neck.  “Your hair is tickling me,” you complained as you tried to sputter enough to get one wayward wavy strand out of your mouth, but he shook his head just to make it even worse; you giggled and turned your face away, still getting pelted with hair as you laughed harder.  “Stop!” you whined, feeling his hands hold you at either side to keep you pinned under him.

He only stopped when he suddenly rolled onto his back, holding you tight and pulling you with him— you still couldn’t separate from each other, and so you were laying on his chest and straddling his hips with your weak legs.  “I can feel it when you laugh, you know,” he told you, still smiling.  “Inside.”

You shivered, holding him tighter.  Why was that so hot?  You clenched, intentionally, to see if he’d react, and he hissed in a little breath.  “You can feel that?” you realized, and he nodded.

You did it again, and he hissed and gripped your hips.  “Don’t do that,” he warned, “unless you want me to fuck you again.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, he grinned back at you.  

“Okay, wait,” he breathed, “that was basically asking you to do it.  Just… wait until the knot goes down, okay?  I don’t recover as fast as you.”

You nodded, resting your chin on his chest and blinking up at him as he sighed and relaxed under you.  His hands stroked your back, mostly mindlessly, while you found yourself reaching up to play with his hair.  

“Are you still gonna want me around?” he asked suddenly, looking down at you again.  “When the heat’s over.”

You hesitated, opening your mouth and then shutting it again.

“I shouldn’t ask that now,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if frustrated with himself.  “You can’t know yet.  I guess what I’m trying to say is… if you just want this to be… this, that’s okay.  I can help you out and then we can go our separate ways.”

You swallowed thickly; he made it sound easy, but imagining it was impossible.  You couldn’t be separate from him, it would be excruciating.

“But, you know, if you wanna… go out sometime,” he stumbled over his words, “a-after this is all over, and we can leave the house again—”

“Are you asking me out?” you realized, eyes widening.

“Um,” he stalled, laughing slightly, “yeah.  Trying to, at least.”

“You’re literally inside me right now,” you reminded him, “and you’re hesitating to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Woah, woah,” he scoffed as he raised his hands, “I just said a date, let’s not rush things—”

You laughed and shoved his face away in punishment, but he held you by your wrists and sat up, keeping you perched in his lap as he kissed you— both of you still giggling a bit as you moved your lips together.

One week later…

"You understand why your case is so important to us," the doctor explained, smiling politely as he looked at you.  "Presenting at eighteen is rare enough, even for someone with a much higher likelihood of having ESD.  But with two beta parents… those odds make winning the lottery seem likely."

Eddie had already joked about buying some Powerball tickets, but you still weren't sure if this was all incredible luck or misfortune.  That said, you did feel better with his arm around your shoulders; he'd insisted on coming into the exam room with you, despite the exasperated nurse explaining you were meant to come in alone.  You were impressed she stood up to an Alpha for as long as she did, but she gave in eventually, and you were thankful for it.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to run some tests," the doctor continued.  "If we understand your unique case, we may understand the entire concept of dimorphism better.  Would you give your consent for our research?"

You were swinging your legs as they hung off the exam table, watching your bare feet brush against Eddie's shoes; the hospital gown wasn't enough to shield you from the coldness and sterility of the air, and you leaned harder into Eddie for warmth.  Looking up at the man in the white coat, you only hesitated a second before nodding.

"We'll need a few blood samples," the doctor enumerated as you sighed through another understanding nod, "and a cervical sample."

"Cervical?" Eddie repeated.

"Yes, from the cervix?  It's—"

"I know what the cervix is," Eddie frowned.  "How would this sample be collected?"

"Um, well, I would insert a brush up the—"

"Nope," Eddie interrupted firmly, "no, no way."

"I—" the doctor started.

"Nothing's going up anything, okay?  Nothing's going… in her."

"I understand that you're feeling protective at the moment," the doctor sighed.  "That's a normal hormonal reaction."

You blinked and stared down into your lap, where Eddie's hand was holding yours tightly, just under the plastic bracelet that had your information on it.  Name, birthday, patient ID number, and of course, sex.  You expected to see an F there, like you always had on any form or ID or paperwork.  You were still getting used to what you saw instead: O.

A normal hormonal reaction.  Does that mean it's not really real?  That it's a phase that passes, and you'll just be strangers again?

You squeezed Eddie's hand, feeling him squeeze yours back; it felt so real now, though.  You couldn't imagine life without this, even though that's exactly what your life had been until just a week ago.

"That said," the doctor continued, "she needs to make her own medical decisions.  If we feel that your presence is putting her under any duress, and therefore interfering with her right to informed consent and medical privacy, we will have you removed from the premises."

You almost wanted to see them try, three beta security guards versus one Alpha running on mating instincts.  But you shook your head and spoke up instead.  "It's alright," you interjected, "I— I don't want an internal exam, please.  But you can take as much blood as you need."

Even that seemed to frustrate Eddie, who huffed a little and gently squeezed your shoulder, but kept his mouth shut.  The doctor smiled.  "It won't be that much," he assured, "just a few vials.  And a cheek swab, if that doesn't count as internal."

“That’s fine,” you nodded.

When the doctor left to get the tools needed to draw your blood, you laid your head on Eddie's shoulder as he gently played with your hair.

"I don't think that guy likes me too much," Eddie whispered, making you smile and tilt your face into the crook of his neck.

"He's just trying to make sure you're not controlling me," you assured.

"But compared to your parents he's, like, my biggest fan," Eddie added, and you smacked him lightly on the chest as you laughed.

"Shut up," you mumbled, "they don't hate you… they're just trying to understand all this.  So am I, honestly."

One of his strong hands came up to hold your face, thumb petting your temple, as he kissed the top of your head.  Wayne had been the first to deliver the news to your parents, and you would never have enough money in your life to repay him for being the one to knock on their door and say hey, funny story, your daughter's an omega and she's currently getting her brains fucked out by my nephew, anyways see you in a week when she gets her logical reasoning back and also might be pregnant, toodaloo.

(You figured he found a better way to say it than that, but still, that was probably what they heard.)

It was a couple days before you were stable long enough to go over there yourself, Eddie close by your side the whole time, trying to explain it as best you could in a way they would understand.  They, too, had made Eddie leave to speak with you alone— even though it made you feel like you had to leave your heart in the other room— and asked you if somehow he was making you do this.  It seemed like no matter what you said, people had trouble believing that Eddie saved you, that you needed him now and that he needed you, too.

Not that you could really blame them, because it wasn't something you could put into words, either.  You just felt it.  It was basic, natural instinct.  It's like trying to explain why you eat multiple times a day or why you have to get up and walk to be able to cross the room.

You were snuggled up in Eddie's arms when a nurse came in, rolling a cart with the essentials for a blood draw on top.  You bit your lip when you saw four vials, knowing how those were going to get filled.

"Are you afraid of needles?" she asked.

"I… have a healthy respect for them," you replied, making her laugh a bit.

"That's fair," she nodded, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling your arm so she could wipe down the area she was going to prick.

You turned your face into his chest, closing your eyes, since you figured looking would only make it worse.

As she tied your arm and searched for the vein, Eddie held your head to his shoulder tightly, soothing you gently.  "It's okay," he whispered against your head, "you're okay…"

He winced almost as hard as you did when she finally did it, and you knew that this was hurting him, too.  You felt the same way when he accidentally cut his finger, or when he told you about some of the more difficult stories from his past; his pain was your pain.

"All done!" the nurse announced with a little too much chipperness as she untied the tight rubber from your arm and taped down a cotton ball to the small dot of a wound.

You exhaled slowly, and Eddie kissed your cheek.  "You did so good, sweetheart," he praised.

"That's sweet," the nurse cooed, sweetness quickly slipping into condescension.  "I guess you two are mates, huh?"

You wished you had the guts to blurt out the first snarky thing you thought of: No, he's my tax attorney.  Of course he's my mate, are you blind?

"Yeah," you offered shyly instead.

"How long have you been going out?" she asked, making conversation half-heartedly as she cleaned up the rolling cart and threw away what she didn't need.

"We haven't actually, uh, had a chance to go on a real date yet," Eddie interjected, making you wince and look down.  "Unless this counts— but I was thinking something a little more traditional for our first date than a drive to the hospital and a blood draw."

The nurse made a little face, like she was trying to be nice, not even looking at you.  "Well, that's… sweet… I'm surprised they let you back here together."

"Doctor Ali knew it was important to me," you explained quickly.

She nodded.  "You're young… everything feels important when you're that age."

"What does that mean?" Eddie snapped.

"Well, it's just that… you know, first love and all," she shrugged.

"You don't get it," Eddie laughed coldly.  "You're a beta, you could never understand.  It's different for us— we mate for life."

Your throat caught.  If that was true, it never came up in health class…

You waited until Eddie was driving you home to bring it up— but you’d been imagining asking about it ever since he said it.

"Do we really…?" you asked, looking down at your hands in your lap as you sat still in the passenger seat.  "Are we mates for life now?"

He swallowed, glancing down.  "We don't have to be.  It's not like every omega stays with the first Alpha they meet— actually, maybe most of them don’t.  But that’s how it used to be, back in the day— mates stayed together, always.”

That sounded nice; your heart beat a little faster just imagining it.

“I just…” he began, trailing off and starting over.  “I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't a coincidence.  Even if it seems pretty random— we didn't know each other at all, before— I think it happened for a reason."

You shivered, but nodded in agreement.  “I think so, too.”

"I think you're supposed to be mine."

You smiled, looking down into your lap shyly once again.  “I don’t know about supposed to, but… I know that I want to be.”

“Let me remind you, one more time,” he smirked, “that we barely know each other.”

But you knew everything that mattered about each other, and so you smiled to yourself.  “I don’t care,” you insisted.

You blinked quickly, looking at him and out the window, when you realized he was pulling the van over.  When you were parked on the side of the road, he leaned over the console and held your cheek in one hand as you looked up at him.  His face was determined, yet soft; his eyes were even bigger than you remembered.  “Do you wanna be my mate?  Really?”

“Eddie,” you sighed, “of course— can’t you tell?”

“No, I know,” he shook his head, “I just mean that if we do this— if we really do this, the whole mated pair thing— it’s just you and me, for the long haul.  Together.”

You reached up and put your own hand on top of his.  “That’s what I want.”

“And I should warn you now,” he added, “that if you let me… I’m gonna breed you.”

You shivered.  “I… I want that, too.”

He growled, quiet but enough for you to hear and gasp as it seemed to rattle through your body, as he pulled you into a kiss.  You whimpered into it, clutching at his jacket needily until he smiled at you.  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, and you shivered again.

“F-fuck, Eddie, can we…?  Now?” you asked.

“Here?” he smirked.  “In the van?”

You glanced at the back for just a split second, but he noticed, and laughed lowly in that way that made your thighs clench together.  

“You wanna get in the back?” he noticed, and you nodded, looking at him again with half-lidded eyes.  “I really don’t deserve you— it’s not fair, you know, me having the sweetest omega in the world all to myself.”

“Just take me,” you pleaded, sick of the teasing, desperate for him to make good on that promise to breed you— logic be damned.  “Alpha…”

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your neck instead as you melted into his arms, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #alpha!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson a/b/o #stranger things a/b/o #stranger things omegaverse

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if you already wrote about this so forgive me if this is a repeat question but, what do you think about Leona’s depression? I feel it’s pretty obvious in game and yet it’s always glossed over as him being ‘lazy’ idk but I don’t find many talking about his really shitty mental health with any seriousness.

Surprisingly I haven't addressed this (at least not in detail)! So thank you for bringing this to my attention; I definitely feel like I've heard people (especially Leona fans) discuss this quite frequently. If you look in the right places, you’re sure to find insightful commentary on the subject! I know I certainly have, but I've yet to say my own piece on it yet.

Now, before I actually get to actually rambling, I want to preface this post with a few points so we can walk in knowing the perspective I'm coming from. Analysis isn't a "one size fits all"! My experiences and background will color the lenses through which I view Leona’s mental health.

First and foremost, I usually don't go out of my way to claim, "this character has X condition" beyond what is outright stated or implied in canon. That does NOT mean that I disapprove of fans who may have their headcanons that say otherwise or project onto or relate to characters' mental health. You can consume the media you like however you want! I am just saying that I don't have this preference so I feel somewhat uncomfortable speaking on this matter.

Secondly, I am trying to approach this situation from a very clinical viewpoint (as I do have knowledge in this area). This means that when I look for “implications” or read between the lines, I am doing so as objectively as I can. It’s how I choose to process and understand characters from a health angle. This does not mean that my opinion is certain; you could very well find someone else in this area that gives you the opposite opinion. As always, I warn you that my response is for fun, it is NOT meant to be taken as medical advice.

Lastly, PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST before you comment or share your own thoughts. I'm up for having a discussion, but I ask that you not do so without getting the full context of my thoughts. It’s a lot of information, and I did my best to break it down in a way that (I hope!!) is easy to understand.

CONTENT WARNING: due to the nature of the question at hand, I will be discussing or mentioning potentially triggering topics such as ***depression, suicidal ideation, dieting, homophobia, and substance abuse.*** Please look away if you are not in the right headspace to read about such topics.

Okay, let's rip the band-aid off now: I don't think Leona is clinically depressed.

Pause. Rewind. Take note of my careful wording there: clinically depressed. I don't think Leona is clinically depressed. What does that mean, and how does that relate to "being depressed"?

I think when people describe Leona as "depressed", they commonly mean that he "has depression", not that he is just feeling sad or has low self-esteem. By "having depression", I'm going to assume they are referring to "major depressive disorder", which is the technical term for the condition.

"It's just an abbreviation of the longer term. What's the issue with using 'depression'?” you're probably wondering. “You understand that we mean major depressive disorder.” Well, equating the two does NOT a diagnosis make.

Mental conditions such as major depressive disorder are documented in a handbook known as the DSM (or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). The latest version, the DSM-5-TR (5th edition with text revisions), was published in 2022. The DSM is a manual that sets forth criteria for each diagnosis in its pages. Of course, this includes major depressive disorder—and it may surprise you to learn that Leona does not meet its diagnostic criteria.

A diagnosis of "depression" (the term I will henceforth be using as shorthand for the disorder) is much more than having persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, being unmotivated/lazy, and wanting to sleep often. (I bring up these three things specifically because they are the ones I see being pointed at most frequently to “prove” the diagnosis.)

In order to be formally diagnosed, an individual must be experiencing at least 5 or more of the following symptoms during the same 2-week period:

Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.

Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.

A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).

Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.

Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.

Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.

Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.

At least one of the symptoms should be either 1) depressed mood or 2) loss of interest or pleasure in activities they previously found enjoyable. Furthermore, the symptoms must cause what is known as "clinically significant distress", which is defined by impairment in important areas of functioning. This includes, but is not limited to, socialization, occupation, and/or education. The symptoms must also not be the result of substance abuse or another medical condition, and the individual must ever have experienced mania or hypomania.

Let’s briefly go through each criterion + additional documents and see what evidence there is or isn’t to support it:

We do not have his medical records to cross reference, so for the sake of convenience let’s assume no underlying or additional medical conditions.

We must consider additional context about family, lifestyle, etc. which can confound his symptoms. For example, as a prince, Leona has grown up having most things done for him by servants. This is what he is used to. So when we observe Leona not doing basic things for himself (getting food, doing laundry, making his bed), how much of this can we truly attribute to an underlying condition and how much of this can we attribute to Leona being accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle?

Leona (at least from what we know of) does not experience mania, nor is he depicted as taking mind or behavior altering substances.

Of the first two criteria, Leona must fit into one: either 1) depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, or 2) markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day. These depend on how you interpret his actions and behaviors. Personally, I don’t think Leona strongly fits into 2 because he still has an interest in his hobbies like Magift/Spelldrive and playing chess (though his involvement in it varies depending on the context). I will concede that there is stronger evidence for 1 over 2, as Leona has definitely expressed sadness and despair regarding himself and his future prospects. It is these thoughts that drive him away from home and keep contact with his family at a minimum. It is these thoughts that prevent him from seeing himself as worthy or even capable of change—a sentiment he shares in book 6, when he encourages Jamil but does not grant himself the same kindness or optimism. For this reason, we will go with the first criterion.

He has not experienced notable weight loss nor gain, nor a notable increase or decrease in appetite. Regarding his general diet, Leona has expressed a preference for meat and rejects vegetables. This by itself does not really provide any useful information in of itself; many people have this preference.

Leona does not experience a slowing down of thought. He is still very sharp and quick-witted in responding to his surroundings, especially in potentially dangerous ones, and coming up with an appropriate plan to counter. It can be argued that Leona has had a reduction in physical movement, as many characters often make remarks about how they perceive him as lazy or not doing much. However, this criterion actually refers to the speed at which one completes an activity and as far as I know, Leona is not said to be moving sluggishly, he only conducts himself in a manner that can be described as "lazily elegant". Even if we stretched the definition to encompass long-term goals he is putting off (like graduation), this criteria is still not counted for Leona since the wording used in the DSM-5-TR states “slowing down of thought AND reduction in physical movement” must be present. In other words, both must be true, not just one of them.

Leona does seem to experience some level of fatigue or loss of energy. This could be one way of interpreting his desire to sleep excessively instead of tending to more meaningful matters (like class). Fatigue, in this case, can also refer to emotional or mental fatigue. The sleep, then, can serve as a means of escape from reality for Leona, but it does not indicate actual physical tiredness. Rather, the tiredness can be intangible. This is also a potential explanation for his lack of motivation when it comes to some activities, especially those that demand him to take charge.

Leona does appear to experience feelings of worthlessness, though perhaps not excessive or inappropriate guilt. In fact, I would wager Leona does not demonstrate the latter, although this could be attributed to the fact that we are not in his head and he does not open up to others about his feelings. For example, we still don't know what his feelings are on almost killing Ruggie in a fit of rage. This does not discredit this criterion though, as the wording in the DSM is “feelings of worthlessness OR […] guilt” meaning one or the other suffices. It is no secret that Leona seeks recognition for his skills—something he was denied as a child and even put down for. While he is aware of his strengths, he has moments when he doubts himself (stating that he can’t change, or giving up when he realizes his plans won’t work so what’s the point in trying?), the contributions he can make (even when his older brother reassures him he can help their country), and encouragement from others (Jack telling him his play inspired him).

As I've said before, Leona does not have a diminished ability to think or concentrate. It has been shown to us time and time again that he doesn't do schoolwork not for lack of trying or lack of understanding, but because he thinks of himself as above it. Leona has already been tutored by the finest teachers royal money can buy, so he believes there is not much else for him to learn. He is also not shown to be indecisive--he can make decisions very quickly and can guide others or at least convince them to go along with him.

Leona does not have suicidal ideation or have recurring thoughts of committing suicide/death. While it's true that this is a game rated for ages 4+ (and therefore has restrictions on what content is and is not allowed in it), TWST has demonstrated to us that there are ways to imply suicidal ideation and other dark themes without explicitly saying it. (One notable example is Idia in late book 6, where he drops lines like "I'll go with you" and expresses dissatisfaction with "this world" to Ortho, who is known to be dead. To this, Ortho reassures him and encourages him to keep living. In fact, I could go on a whole tangent about how Idia better fits the criteria for major depressive disorder, but we're not going to get into that here.) The fact that TWST does not really imply this about Leona makes me think this is not true of him.

It can be said that the symptoms Leona does have are clinically significant, as his behavior is shown to have significant impact on his studies to the point where he was held back a grade. This was not because he did not know the material, but because he failed to find the motivation to attend class and to do his assignments. It also appears that Leona didn't really make an effort to work toward his future until book 7, when he actually talks his internship plans and about wanting to graduate.

We may guess that the symptoms persisted for two weeks or more (given Leona’s history and involvement in the main story), but the frequency of the symptoms is unclear since the game controls what we see of Leona and what we don’t.

Taking all of that into consideration, Leona does in fact exhibit depressive symptoms, but only 3 at most (I say “at most” because we have no idea about the true frequency at which some behaviors occur; we aren’t with Leona 24/7, nor has he reported it to us) out of the 8 total criteria. That’s 2 short of a diagnosis.

“But wait, there’s a lot of information missing here! We don’t have medical records, his weight and appetite changes, etc.” That’s true—but see, the main issue I take with diagnosing fictional characters in the first place is that we oftentimes do not know a character in detail enough to understand the full scope of their lives and symptoms. Noticing a few details is one thing and valid to an extent, but to evaluate an individual is not purely observational. This is particularly true for TWST characters, as even though there is plenty of content to refer back to for behavior, there is still a lack of really going into daily activities or deep feelings (beyond the one post-OB flashback for the OB boys). We cannot observe their behavior extensively. Because of this, tons of key criteria may not be visible to us from the audience’s perspective, let alone a medical history or other data to consider for assessment. We will almost always have an incomplete profile of a fictional character. Health is holistic and not entirely based on what we as individuals see or on all anecdotal evidence.

Just as health considers all parts of the individual, we, too, must consider individual cases of depression. It is possible for depression to exist without a diagnosis—many people (especially older adults), unfortunately, go undiagnosed for their condition. At the same time, it is possible for Leona to have depression which manifests in an atypical way. Each person with depression presents differently than the last, so I so not intend to make any blanket statements about the general population with this condition. The only statement I am making here is that based on my own interpretation of the current lore TWST has granted is, Leona Kingscholar does not satisfy the criteria for a formal clinical diagnosis, at least not for major depressive disorder as is defined by the DSM-5-TR.

Interestingly, Leona does fit the diagnostic criteria for a subclinical form of depression in a 1994 version of the DSM (IV). Minor depression or minor depressive disorder, colloquially known as “everyday depression”, is defined as having 2–4 depressive symptoms persisting for more than 2 weeks. One of these symptoms must be either depressed mood or loss of interest. It should be noted that this terminology is no longer recognized, as new information is added and dropped from the manual all the time. The information is flexible based on the consensus of a panel of hundreds of experts. Older versions of the DSM can be horribly outdated and it is not advised to reference them over newer ones. (As an example, "homosexuality" was legitimately listed as a mental illness in the very first version of the DSM. Yikes. Thankfully, this was dropped from the DSM-II. Other conditions like "multiple personality disorder" are granted new names like "dissociative identity disorder" or reworked altogether as our studies and understanding of mental health and science improve. It is important to keep up with the research coming out and update our approaches accordingly.)

We do not currently have a label for Leona’s situation aside from perhaps experiencing depressive episodes (periods of notable sadness lasting under 2 weeks) and exhibiting some depressive symptoms. I must stress that just because we lack a full-blown diagnosis, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact his life. Leona is shown to very clearly be struggling with his mental health. He spends a lot of time in bed, typically cannot be motivated to attend class or do complete assignments, and has moments where he thinks very lowly of himself in spite of the confidence he exudes to others. What's more is that because Leona does not speak to others about what he's going through, it comes off as laziness or arrogance to his peers. Think of it this way: if you have a bad day and snap at a stranger or an acquaintance, the stranger/acquaintance is far less likely to grant you grace or forgiveness for your behavior compared to, say, a friend. They are not as familiar with you, so they will have less patience and are less likely to consider what you may be going through on a personal level. This also applies on a fandom level; if a fan is not actively reading between the lines, they, like Leona's peers, may miss the depressive symptoms he is displaying because they aren't looking for it. How many people can we say are close friends with Leona for him to open up to them about his circumstances? I would say Leona barely even lets his own dorm members be intimate enough with him to let them know about this part of himself. He has Savanaclaw backing him, but he probably does not talk to the mobs extensively. Ruggie is his errand boy, but I doubt Leona pours his heart out to him. And Jack is the newbie who did technically betray their dorm, so Leona might not trust him. Forget about people beyond his dorm. Even his family is not much better off; we've seen that Leona tends to brush off his brother's friendliness and attempts to make amends. There is no strong support system in place for him, which is tricky because Leona perpetuates it by keeping others at bay. In the light novel adaptation of book 2, Leona has an inner monologue about how he is afraid of letting others give him hope because it will encourage him to try again, only to fail another time. I imagine similar logic applies here; he is afraid of showing his vulnerable side because it might give him hope for change when he as late as book 6 expresses that he has given up on himself. I think that this is the detail about Leona most look to when they consider his mental health. The hallmark of depression is, after all, the feeling of perpetual sadness and despair itself. Most do not realize that other factors are considered.

From a clinical lens, it is not “obvious" that Leona is depressed. However, I understand why the prevailing sentiment tends to skew in the opposite direction. For the layman, it may be difficult to distinguish what is and is not clinically significant enough to warrant an actual diagnosis. Again, most will cite the same three pieces of information to support the depression reading: Leona's irritability, his unwillingness to participate, and the rejection he experienced as a child (which has now manifested as self-doubt and low self-esteem). Characters are often judged based on fans' own experiences, and this naturally comes with biases and subjectivity. Thus, some fans may project their own understanding or preconceived notions of what the "typical" depressed person acts like in their head onto Leona. This is normal human empathy at play. I believe that other fans see depression in Leona either because they experience it themselves or are familiar with someone in the same shoes. It can be difficult, and at times we can find solace and solidarity in fiction, especially if we find a character that “speaks to us” and seems relatable. That character may be Leona for some people. If you see do see him in this light or relate to his situation, I’m not invalidating your feelings. On the contrary, I'm happy that you were able to find comfort in him and that a piece of media you love can serve as a coping mechanism. You keep on doing you!

It is at this point that I will reiterate what I said at the start with a little extra nuance: I do not think Leona clinically depressed BUT I do believe he has depressive symptoms and poor mental health as the result of his cumulative circumstances. It is possible for him to have major depressive disorder, but we cannot determine this for certain with the information available to us right now. We are still missing several key components that would typically be considered in the evaluation process.

I think it's important to step back from focusing on labels and instead focus on the individual experience, and how you can still grow as a person and not let a perceived label define you. Leona is definitely working on himself! Changing, particularly changing a deeply ingrained mindset, takes much time and effort. We may not see the progress since Leona tends to hide it and/or we have limited intractions with him. We may not always see giant strides because the process is difficult. Even so, Leona is trying to jump over those mental and emotional hurdles. He's putting his all back into Magift/Spelldrive training. He's attending classes and doing the assignments. He's going home for the holidays. He has an internship planned. He wants to graduate. I've enjoyed following Leona's journey of growth and self-development and seeing all the intense discussion surrounding that. It all comes from a place of love and wanting to support the characters we care about, no matter how we may individually view him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #notes from the writing raven #question #tw//depression #tw//suicidal ideation #tw//suicide #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #Cheka Kingscholar #Falena Kingscholar #Farena Kingscholar #tw//substance abuse #tw//dieting #Jamil Viper #Idia Shroud #Ruggie Bucchi #Jack Howl #Savanaclaw #tw//homophobia

[eardefenders]

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 2 Transcript

00:00-00:30 Intro Music

00:27-00:34 *Sounds of a violin playing fade in*

00:34 Sherlock: You see? You see what I mean?

00:37 John: I…don’t.

00:39 Sherlock: Listen! *scoffs* Listen, closely this time. Shh. *resumes playing the bit from the fade in*

00:43 John: Argh. *pause* For God’s sake.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:46 John: Sherlock, please mate. We’ve got questions to get through here.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:52 John: Maaaate. Matey, mate mate mate mate.

00:55 Sherlock: Did you hear it this time?

00:57 John: Yeah. Sure. Uhh, right. So let’s dive into the discord chat. The brand spanking new discord for Sherlock and Co members. Brimming with Stamfords, Irregulars, and Diogene-sohmy God. There’s thousands of messages. Um, right. Should probably been keeping tabs on those questions. All right I’m going to scroll up and pick one f-from um the sssixteenth of January. Here we go! Come on down…IdleVice! Uh, your question is, “If you could make a Spotify playlist for each other of your own favorite songs, what would some of the highlights be and would you be willing to share the playlists with us. Ooh hoohoho. Uuuhhm. I don’t know if I’d ever get around to actually, y’know, putting the playlist together, as, as such, but what I-I would get Sherlock to listen to. Ummm mmmm probably Elbow? Elbow are a band from the north of England. Uh, Salford I think. But they have, uh, a few strings sort of. I-I don’t know what it’s called-but, elements that involve violins. Um, and all that jazz. Heh. Uh well not jazz! Uh, literally, not jazz. Uh, yeah, Sherlock, what about me?

02:07 Sherlock: Hm?

02:08 John: If you could make a playlist of songs for me what would it be?

02:12 Sherlock: I probably would never do that, Watson.

02:16 John: Okay. Uh, could you expand on that?

02:19 Sherlock: It’s a task that I wouldn’t find that fulfil-Vivaldi.

02:23 John: Uhh, right. Vivaldi. Yep. Anything else pop into mind?

02:29 Sherlock: Pop.

02:31 John: Pop? Is that-what’s that?

02:33 Sherlock: It’s a genre of music.

02:35 John: Uh, right, you’d make a pop playlist for me?

02:38 Sherlock: I’d probably enlist Mrs. Hudson to do that.

02:41 John: Fair enough. And why pop?

02:43 Sherlock: Because it’s an abbreviation for ‘popular music’.

02:45 John: No, I know that.

02:47 Sherlock: You like popular culture, therefore pop music could very well be your cup of green tea.

02:54 John: It’s, it’s just cup of tea. Bu-uh-uh, well, okay, uh, thank you for that. Uh, back to the discord dudes and dudettes. Um, not that I was implying any kind of masculine energy to the use of the word dudes. Dudes will remain, uh, um, an-an-an-androgynous here. My…dudes. Bit like the word mate! I do throw it around. Ummm. Some people just think it’s for blokes. Don’t know why. Uh, anyway. Here we go. Leaf-onk, layff, layfonk? I hope I’m saying that right. Uh, Leif-Leif*onk* asks, ‘Has Sherlock ever hit a vape?”

03:28 Sherlock: Yes.

03:29 John: Lovely. They’d also like to know the flavor.

03:31 Sherlock: Menthol.

03:32 John: D-do you want to expand?

03:35 Sherlock: Mm, not really.

03:37 John: Did you like it?

03:38 Sherlock: It was satisfactory, I suppose.

03:41 John: *sighs* Another thrilling q and a session with the master detective. Here we go! Number one archie fan-He-he-heeyyy! Archie! Found your number one fan mate. Heh. Think they also go by potpourri. Not sure. Don’t really know how discord works because I was born in 1989. Anyway! Number one Archie fan asks, do you have a favorite classical piece? Or a favorite composer, perhaps?

04:05 Sherlock: Mozart, generally. Can often be tied to my mood. What about Vivaldi? You said Vivaldi earlier?

04:12 Sherlock: That was a recommendation to you.

04:14 John: But not you?

04:14 Sherlock: Definitely not.

04:16 John: Great.

04:17 Sherlock: Uh, Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky. But I am often driven by whatever phase I feel I’m in.

04:23 John: And we’re in a Mozart phase now, are we?

04:26 Sherlock: We are indeed.

04:27 John: Fab. Right, uh, Reeonk asks-ohkay, ok, I see what you’re doing now. Cause of. Cause of Jonk. Okahaha. Let’s all laugh at Jonk-John, I mean.

04:40 Sherlock: *laughs*

04:41 John (affectionately): Oh, ge-Shut up, you big idiot.

04:44 Sherlock: *still laughing*

04:45 John (affectionately annoyed): Shut it. Ha. Uhhhh, we’ll cut that bit. I swear to God. Right! Reonk, who I think also goes by Perfo, if I click here. But yes, as I was saying, millennial at the wheel. Sorry. Reonk’s first question, “Hey John, if you were an animal, what animal would you be?” Uhhhum, *clicks tongue* look, I’ve got to be something airborne. Um, uh I’m sorry, but I have to. Y-y-you can’t have the chance to fly and turn it down, so, uh, I’m a bird.

05:09 Sherlock: Or a bug.

05:10 John: S-s-sorry?

05:11 Sherlock: Bugs. Insects. They’re airborne. Hm, as is some bacteria.

05:16 John: Great, yeah. Let me just decide between a gnat and a germ.

05:19 Sherlock: By all means. Take your time.

05:21 John: I’m being sarcastic. I’m not a bug and I’m not bloody…germs. I’m. *sighs* I mean it’s too much pressure being an eagle, isn’t it. Um, *clicks tongue three times* I don’t want to be something that’s crap at flying, like a swan or a goose or something. Shoutout to Heather, by the way. Ehhh, aw come on John, come on John. Um. Ooo! Tell you what. Now this is going to sound stupid, but if it was my brain in the animal-

05:47 Sherlock: Yes, this is going to sound stupid.

05:49 John: Shh-sh-shh. Yes, if it was me. In the animal. I’m going pigeon.

05:54 Sherlock: Pigeon?

05:55 John: Pigeon. Ehh? Right, listen, ok. I can still live in the city. I cou-I could even live in my room, really.

06:01 Sherlock: You absolutely cannot.

06:03 John: What? Why not?

06:04 Sherlock: I’m not flatsharing with a bloody pigeon, Watson.

06:06 John: It’s me.

06:07 Sherlock: Yes, in the body of a pigeon.

06:09 John: Listen, let me finish my point. I’m a pigeon. I’ve got my room. I can fly about London, y’know? See all the sites, dive bomb some tourists, do a little poo on the House of Commons. I could nick a bit of decent grub. Yeah, go on walks with Archie and Mariana in the park. And no one is the wiser. If I was an eagle or a, y’know, like an albatross, I couldn’t do that, could I? No? It’d be great flying across town, even take the tube. Saw a pigeon on the tube the other day.

06:39 Sherlock: Yes, you said. Twice.

06:41 John: I could look through people’s windows, you know go in their gardens, on their patios….That makes me sound creepy, doesn’t it? Ah, pigeon! *clears his throat* The answer is pigeon. Second question, “What kitchen appliance would you be?” *clicks tongue twice and sucks air in thorough his teeth* Hm. Not being a microwave. No way, don’t get cleaned enough and, uh, having curries and bloody pizzas blowing up inside me, geezus. Uh, fridge. Maybe. Mmm, but I’d see a lot of rotting food, wouldn’t I? Especially if people are away for a while. Probably go with something fun, y’know something where I come out of the pantry or the, y’know, the cupboard or whatever, and all the family go ‘yaayyy, heyhey here he is!’-Wafflemaker, I’d be a wafflemaker. Everyone loves waffles. No one’s getting board of me. I’m getting cleaned. Perfect. Pigeon and a wafflemaker. Ha! That’s not a bad name for our band, eh Sherlock?

07:32 Sherlock: We’re not making a band.

07:33 John: Yeahhh, it was a joke. Right! It’s biscuit time! Saren says ‘Question for Sherlock: What kind of biscuits are, in your opinion, the best?

07:42: *sound of someone walking away*

07:43 John: Uhh, what’re you doing?

07:44 Sherlock: Answering the question.

07:44 John: Well, that would involve sitting down and talking into the mic.

07:48 Sherlock *sound of papers*: Here.

07:49 John: This…is an essay….on biscuits.

07:52 Sherlock: Yes.

07:54 John: By you.

07:55 Sherlock: Yes.

07:56 John: Okay.

07:58 Sherlock: Well, read it. My findings are in there.

08:01 John: Whaaa…it’s thirty-nine pages long.

08:03 Sherlock: Indeed.

08:04 John: Thi-this is supposed to be a snappy question and answer segment. Y’know it’s supposed to be a patreon reward, not a bloody punishment. *sarcastically* ‘Aww thanks for giving six quid everybody, here’s an eleven hour lecture on biscuits.’

08:15 Sherlock: They asked the question.

08:16 John: Right, ok. So, uh, he was eating a lot of custard creams the other day. Um, for those of you who aren’t British, uh, a custard cream is, uh, a sort of sandwich structured biscuit, wouldn’t’cha say?

08:26 Sherlock: Correct. Yes. A sandwich in structure. Two light shortbread pieces acting as the bread. Often stamped with a Victorian inspired Baroque design. And the filling was once a buttercream, but now is a custard flavored cream based on vanilla custard. Not egg custard.

08:43 John: Right, yeah. It’s, it’s that. Um, they’re nice. They are nice. Very moreish. Um, Ellionk, or Ellie, I think, when they’re not ‘Onk’ified, want’s to know ‘Favorite Supermarket: Tesco or Sainsbury’s?’ Um, well, both have gone downhill in recent years, I have to say. So, I’m going to go for neither and say co-op. Yeah, cause every now and again you find a really really good one. But if I’m in fantasy land, it’s M&S Foods or Waitrose. *clicks tongue* Yeah. Uh, there’s a chemistry question here from Ranger Pip which I don’t even begin to understand, so I’m going to move on. Sorry, Ranger Pip.

09:18 John (cont.): Right, last one! ‘Question for possibly John or Sherlock, not sure, lol. What is the story behind the theme tune. Just have to say whoever composed it, the musicians need an award and a shoutout on the podcast.’ Uh, yeah, well it’s a great theme tune, isn’t it? It really is. It’s called ‘Mad Prodigy’. *clears his throat pointedly*

09:39 Sherlock: Why are you making that noise?

09:41 John: Ah well, just saying mate.

09:43 Sherlock: I’m not mad. Or a prodigy.

09:46 John: Hey, uh, I-I’m not saying anything. Um, yeah, it’s it’s by a guy called Jody Jenkins. Uhhh, the reason why I don’t release it like some people asked me to is because it’s owned by a royalty free site. Um, *clicks tongue* the reason why Jody Jenkins doesn’t release it, is the same reason. I-it’s owned by a royalty free site. Uh, that’s generally how they work. I-I pay a fee. Well. Goalhanger pay a fee, use the track, and it belongs too…yeah. Audio Network. Um, I think he’s fab, yeah. But as far as crediting him out loud on the podcast, um, some artists don’t want royalty free work assigned to them. Um, they just do it for a paycheck. Some do. I don’t know him obviously and of course, I-I could piss off the company that actually owns the audio if I just mention him and uh, not-

10:34: *phone vibrates*

10:36 John: Message from Mariana. ‘You’re waffling. These people are paying us their hard earned money.’ Right! Soundproofing in these old houses aren’t what they used to be, are they? Um, *clicks tongue* yeah that’s the reason songwise. Nothing for or against Jody Jenkins. I’m just playing it safe cause these things s-scare me. *chuckles* Corporations and blech, yeah. Uh, horrible stuff.

10:54: *phone vibrates*

10:55 John: Um, message from Mariana. Right, yeah, I’m gonna wrap this up. Uh, thanks for your questions my lovely friends, we’ll be back soon. And, now to play us out, the one and only, Sherlock Holmes.

11:08 Sherlock: What?

11:08 John: Play! Play a song!

11:10 Sherlock *pleased*: Oh. Excellent! Uh, okay. Here we go!

11:14: *violin playing starts up*

11:17 John: Bye bye guys!

11:32: *sherlock’s violin playing cuts into Mad Prodigy

11:32-12:02 *Mad Prodigy carries us out to the end*

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #transcripts #transcript #mine #mailbag 2 #sorry for the delay on this #month ends are always a bit busy for me #also once I figure out what sherlock is playing at the end I'll fix this to reflect it

[rizsu]

gossip girls: dumbass edition oikawa, sunarin.

sum. when they reveal their gf for the first time.

contrary to the rumors, oikawa isn't quite the womanizer you'd believe he is. he's cute, tall, charming and athletic but his personality? it's okay — certainly not what his fanbase makes him out to be. in front of others, oikawa is a master at sweet-talking. he can joke his way out of trouble any time, any day. in front of his newly founded crush? he has back-up on speed dial.

oikawa is absolutely concerning at flirting. yes, he can flirt but that's up to a certain degree. he's all "wanna kiss?" until you agree. astonished is he at anyone that flirts back. dump all blame onto his fangirls that gush and faint over his presence.

and to that, we reach the current scenery: iwaizumi hajime versus oikawa toru — the trilogy. aoba johsai's male volleyball team knows no peace whenever their seniors step foot into the gym.

"what happened again..?" kindaichi's confusion results in a group-sigh. clearly he hasn't been here long enough.

"dunno. oikawa probably instigated it," munching on his straw, kunimi continues to become one with the floor, entertained by the personal television that blessed the gym today ( oikawa and iwaizumi ).

on another note, it's guessing game time! the reason behind their current bicker is:

a) oikawa toru

b) oikawa toru ( offender )

c) oikawa toru ( mildly offended )

d) oikawa toru ( victim )

answer? there isn't a single wrong one. in that exact order, oikawa unleashed the beast in iwaizumi. at first, 'twas a simple conversation; hanamaki and matsukawa gossiping at the sidelines while oikawa and iwaizumi did some warm-ups. all-in-all, hanamaki was the perpetrator here — curiosity dominated him which lead to him questioning oikawa, not caring about the consequences.

"say, toru, who's that girl you've been walking home with these days?" with his hands on his hip, hanamaki made sure to lace his question with attitude.

"oh right — who's the unlucky girl?" matsukawa joins.

stopping himself mid-jump, iwaizumi narrows his eyes at oikawa, "is this the reason for you slacking off?"

oikawa holds another volleyball, bouncing it on the floor as he whistles, "whatever could you possibly mean?"

and cue the dramatic background music as four teenagers stand in silence. one person thinks that someone's lying while the other three believe that the one person is feigning confusion.

"now don't play dumb, idioikawa," matsukawa teases.

"what the fuck is an IDIOIKAWA?!" offended, oikawa throws the ball at matsukawa — to which had failed to fulfill its purpose of hitting him.

"idiot oikawa but abbreviated — if that's the correct word," throwing back the ball, matsukawa high-fives hanamaki as he scored his goal ( oikawa's head ).

iwaizumi, however, is still confused. this must be the after-effects of having the group chat on muted. raising the net, iwaizumi crosses under the net and stands with both hands on hip. this stance means business.

"well. get to explaining," iwaizumi demands.

"you're so rude! no wonder you get no girls," oikawa's offended expression did not go unnoticed; but to him, he thinks that his insult went by smoothly. too smoothly. usually he feels the energy of iwaizumi towering over but.. it's calm.

both matsukawa and hanamaki share their gazes — a silent conversation occurred where matsukawa raised his eyebrows and hanamaki nodded. he's gonna get it, they both agree.

suna rintaro, osamu miya and atsumu miya sit in a tense silence. it's intense — the fate of their friendship lies in osamu's next move. what will he do? will he throw away 10 years of trust or will he save it by dumping the choice on atsumu?

the two hold their gazes on osamu — applying more pressure onto him. he's sweating, heaving, heart racing at what he should do as his next move. deciding to bet on doing something devious, he only hopes that the two can forgive him.

"literally fuck you, 'samu," suna curses, shoving a middle finger to osamu's way. after osamu, suna was to move next. now he's stuck because of his friend's move.

"BLESS YOU, TWIN!" atsumu cheers at osamu's move. he can only thank god that he wasn't after osamu.

suna's face sours as he looks at the amount of cards in his hand. he was close. he was so close to yelling "UNO!" yet osamu — osamu just had to drop a "+4" card on him. talk about fake.

"i'm sorry rin — i couldn't give you that win," osamu tries his best to diffuse suna's anger. when it comes to uno, osamu will do anything to be the winner. anything.

"yeah, okay. and you wonder why i talk to y/n more," suna grumbles.

"oh —" stopping himself, atsumu slaps a palm over his mouth. he is shocked — how can his twin counter this!?

osamu's eyes bulge. the forbidden truth has been revealed. he must — at any cost — tank and counter suna's attack.

"you finally got a girl, huh? you're catching up to me!" osamu teases, giving himself a pat on the back for his comeback.

atsumu's hands goes behind his head. his mouth opens in shock, "oh... if i was you, rin.."

suna's clenches his jaw. he knows he cannot heal himself from the -10 HP lost. gearing up his weapon ( a pillow ), suna slaps it on osamu's face. if he can't win verbally, he'll win physically.

what in god's name are they doing? suna's mother judges from the kitchen. she decided to make some homemade snacks for the boys but it seems like they're too busy to eat them..

i am forever a sunarin girl dont forget

#+ rizsu: haikyuu. #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #suna x reader #oikawa toru x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu drabbles

[dreamsontheirway]

Ain't Easy | J.M.

Summary: in which you have an asthma attack, but JJ is there to help you. Warnings: description of asthma attack Word Length: 1.4k Abbreviations: Y/N = your name, Y/N/N = your nickname

Navigation

Join Taglist

You had suffered with asthma for as long as you could remember, but it was mostly manageable at this point in your life. You had a couple inhalers that you carried around when you remembered, but you rarely had to use them anymore.

JJ had witnessed you have an asthma attack only once before. It was when you were running away from Rafe and the physical exertion had gotten to you. Luckily, you two were able to hide out of view and you pointed towards your backpack, guiding JJ to place the inhaler against your lips. He had been frantic, his eyes wide and terrified. After you caught your breath again, you reassured him that you were alright. He insisted that you teach him what to do if, god forbid, this happened again. You had taught him the basics, and he listened intently with caring blue eyes.

This was several months ago, and you had yet to have another one since. One thing many people don’t know about asthma, is that it can be caused by many things other than physical exertion. Asthma attacks can be triggered by allergies, pollen, dry air, humidity, and even storms.

Unfortunately for you, the others had chosen a very humid day for a much needed, relaxing boat trip. Relaxation was the goal, at least, but this humidity was making it difficult. You felt like you were trying to breathe in something solid, rather than air. At least you and everyone else were suffering together.

"Ugh," Kiara exasperated. "It's so gross I am literally sticking to my shorts." She pulled at her ripped jean shorts and sure enough, they peeled up as if they were stuck with tape.

You sat in the back of the boat, fanning yourself with a magazine and wiping the back of your neck, feeling it slick with sweat. The attempts to cool yourselves were futile. No matter how many times you splashed into the water you still seemed to dry off instantly, the scorching sun blazing on you and your friends.

"Should we jump in again?" Offered Pope, whose sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Yes please," JJ countered, taking his flip flops off in preparation.

"I'm gonna stay here," Sarah spoke, pulling her dirty blonde hair up into a bun.

"Me too," you agreed. "Feels pointless. I might go in again later, though."

"Suit yourself," JJ winked at you and leapt into the twinkling water below. The others followed suit, causing a few stray beads of water to spray on your legs.

"Want a drink?" Sarah asked, peeling herself from the sticky boat seat and drifting towards the cooler.

"Yeah, just a beer is fine, thanks," you muttered, beginning to feel a light stinging in your chest.

She handed the cold can to you, and you smiled in appreciation before opening it and taking a sip in hopes it would calm your quickly beating heart and heavy breathing. You breathed out; it came out shaky and unsure.

"You okay?" Sarah offered, peering at you from under light lashes as she dug through her backpack for her phone. Finding it, she sat down next to you.

"Yeah," you choked out. "It's just so hot." You laughed, trying to ease the worry in your chest.

"I know, right," Sarah started. "It's at least like 95 degrees right now. I've never wanted AC so bad, like..."

Sarah's voice seemed to trail off and dissipate as your throat began tightening, strangling you. You gasped, trying to find air to fill your dry airways.

"Y/N?"

Sarah's face appeared in front of you. You couldn't hear her through the ringing in your ears, but you read your name on her lips.

"Inh-" you tried to speak, but only a squeak was able to come out from your sun-baked lips.

Sarah looked confused; she didn't understand what you were trying to say to her. Then it hit you. You had forgotten to pack your inhaler today. Shit! Usually, you were more careful than this, but when you had an attack maybe once every 6 months, it was easy to let it slip your mind.

Sarah noticed your eyes widen, hers becoming frantic. What is happening? Is she having a panic attack? She thought to herself.

"J-" you choked out, hoping Sarah would understand. She did.

"JJ? You want JJ?" She popped up then, dashing to the other end of the boat.

"JJ!" She hollered, desperately.

"What?" JJ said casually; he was floating on his back in the water. "I'm relaxing."

"JJ, it's Y/N! Hurry!"

This got JJ's attention. He crawled up the boat ladder swiftly, racing towards you.

"Baby?" He probed, blue eyes wide in worry. Then he realized -- he had seen this reaction from you before. You were having an asthma attack.

"Where's your inhaler?" He urged you, lake water dripping from his strands of blonde hair and onto the floor of the boat. Both his large hands were placed on either side of your arms.

"I don't," you choked out, "have it."

"Shit," JJ hollered, looking away for a moment. Then his face lit up. "Hold on."

He began rifling through his backpack that was sat next to yours and pulled out a small object. Your extra inhaler. He had it?

"Here baby," he cooed, holding the medicine up to your dry lips, willing you to breathe it in.

It took a couple pumps of the contraption for you to start to breathe normally again. JJ stroked the sides of your arms with his damp hands and watched you intently. The others had made their way back onto the boat, watching silently, concerned for you.

You sighed loudly, finally able to catch your breath. You leaned your head back against the edge of the boat behind you.

"You're okay," JJ spoke softly, pulling the stray strands of hair away from your face. He recalled from the last attack that you lost all your energy from the exertion it took to try to breathe.

You coughed then, your head shooting up. You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your thighs. JJ's hand reached up to rub your back soothingly, and he looked at the others as someone spoke.

"Is she-" Kiara's voice spoke.

"She's fine," JJ barked, knowing you didn't want to be pitied, "just give her a second."

As a child, you had asthma attacks more frequently. You could still feel the sorrowful gazes from your classmates throughout grade school and you hated it. You were a strong person, and you didn't want your asthma to define you in the way that it once had.

"Thank you." You were finally able to choke out a coherent reply to your caring boyfriend, who still sat, crouched in front of you.

"Yeah," he grinned lopsidedly at you, a smile you adored more than practically anything else in the world. "Do you need anything?"

You ignored his question, your own suddenly returning to you.

"Why did you have my extra inhaler?"

"Oh," he started, "I hope you don't mind. I snagged it from your place. I figured it might come in handy." He grinned again, a subtle nod to your current state, and wiggled the inhaler in his hand.

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Fuck, thank you," you muttered. You felt grateful, but also guilty that your boyfriend had to be the one to take care of you. "God, how did I forget it the one day I needed it? I'm so stupid!"

"Hey, hey," he became more serious, but still had his typical joking undertone. "C'mon, Y/N/N. You barely get 'em anymore. We just gotta make sure at least one of us has one for ya from now on."

You groaned, knowing he was right, but you still felt so stupid. JJ could tell.

"C'mere," he declared, and plopped down next to you. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple.

"Ew, you're gross and sweaty," you blanched dramatically, pulling away.

"Is that any way to talk to me?" He joked, pulling you closer. "Look, I know it ain't easy bein' wheezy, but I kind of saved your life."

You groaned playfully and leaned your head into the crook of his neck. Luckily, the rest of the group had resumed their normal pursuits, leaving you to relax against JJ and get some much-needed rest. His other hand rubbed your thigh comfortingly as the boat advanced back towards the mainland.

-----

Join Taglist

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank flangst #jj maybank fluff #obx fluff #outer banks fluff #outer banks hurt/comfort #jj maybank hurt/comfort

[missn00tson]

Yoo Wooin headcanons

Hi, the Wooin landscape is barren af, so Im here to offer my headcanons abt him.

Hope you enjoy!

Nb!Reader

Sfw:

He's Bi, or def fruity in some shape or form.

I once read abt him being in a poly relationship and it has been ingraved in my mind ever since.

Def the type of guy to do a lot of pda. He likes to slap your ass in public, a lot. He's not the type of guy to be gentlemanly and open the door for you, but when he does he will slap your ass as he enters after you.

How comfortable he is with you changes a lot about how he acts with you. When you've been a thing or sortof thing for a long time he will get less... annoying? Dont get me wrong, he's still a litle shit but shows more of a caring side of his. It also ups his aftercare, like, he doesn't leave u or kick u out right after sex.

True to the story he's a little shit always up to somthing, and up for anything. He'd prolly not think twice if you suggest to do smth strange or dangerous.

Would spoil u excessively w gifts. I cant promise u theyre pretty (you have seen his fashion style, its not for everyone) but they will be expensive for sure.

Buys you matching clothes and expects you to wear them so he can show you off.

Will ask you to draw anything and get it tattooed. No mater how good your drawing skills r, if u can hold a pen you're good.

He's pretty good at drawing himself, but just like the rest of him his drawing style is rather... unique. He had been interested in becoming a tattoo artist for a while, and would become one if he didnt get as much money from illegal activities as he does.

Would do drugs and other types of substances with you for fun. He especially loves doing it before and after you've fucked.

He has the most obnoxious alarm ever (if he even feels like getting anywhere on time) and takes too damn long to turn it off.

Types with the most incoherent text messages ever. His texts r abbreviations from hell and as short as they can be. The only emojys he uses r 😎 and 🖕🏻

If you use the middle finger emoji tho he'll tell u it means u have a small dick just to annoy you.

Leaves you on read when you dont ask for a specific answer. He wont answer with an "okay" or anything either.

Would randomly call u at 3am and ask u if he was with u last night when the cops ask him for an alibi. It doesnt matter if he did it or not, he'd lie.

Dont expect him to cook. If you're eating at home it's just simple cupnoodles, otherwise he goes to eat out for every meal.

The guy walks so. Tremendously. slow. Like, showing off walking all badassly but walking slow like a SNAIL

Has the most annoying morning alarm ever (if he even feels like getting somewhere on time) and takes an eternity to turn it off.

Doesn't include you in his job, but isnt super secretive or apologetic abt it at all either.

He's total shit at talking about his feeling other than "annoyed" and "horny", same goes for consoling you about yours.

When you're not close yet he will most likely leave you to yourself as he has no clue how to deal with it other than letting it pass. He might offer you to do something you like to put your mind off it.

If you're more of a serious (for how serious it can be) thing he will try to console u in his own way. He will stay by your side, most likely uncomfortably staring in the distance until u tell him what you want him to do.

Strangely so, these are the moments where he's uncharcyeristicallt distant. Usually he's a guy with 0 personal space but then he just lets you be until he gets told otherwise (sounds submissive to me ahEm-)

If your just a bit down (and he has outruled the possibility that you're mad at him, so you wont atack him outta nowhere) he will try to cheer u up with stupid dirty jokes.

Nsfw:

Would be into crossdressing. More so himself than his partner, but I can see him wearing a short skirt for shits nd giggles once and realizing things abt himself.

Looooves doggy style. Esp when he tops. He loves watching himself sliding in and out of you while you fuck, it just awakens something inside of him.

Would be the type to push u deeper while youre giving him head.

As an adrenaline junky he loves the idea of fucking and teasing in public. Even better if someone else watches.

Def some sort of sadist. He esp loves hour long edging followed by overstimulation. (I dont make the rules. I do but I dont :)

Loves the idea of phone sex, until he gets too horny and wants to do it himself.

But moments like those r the easiest moments to dom him. Yes, he's a switch, a brat for sure.

Even if he doesnt like to admit it, during spicy time is the only moment ur allowed to order him around and having a chance of him listening.

Dont overdo it tho, if he doesnt feel completely at ease w u yet he'll snap right out of it again (esp when he was planning on domming) and rail u even harder.

His rythm is slow and teasing at first, trying to tick you off, but as his own high nears he rams into you with short but quick thrusts.

Continues to fuck you even after you both came, enjoying the pain it gives him and the strangled moans and grunts tou let out.

Loves it when you beg. He loves feeling superior and being worshipped.

Though when hes subbing. Degradation kink. Im telling you. D e g r a d a t i o n

Hes not a gentle guy, he get turned on by seeing your tear stained face. He'd lick off the drops while he's pounding inside of you, wishing you'd cry more.

When he praises you he'll always degrade you at the same time, often using degrading nicknames. "Such a pretty slut for me" "This pathetic doll is taking me so well, aren't they?"

Loves when you bite and scratch him. It sends him straight over the edge when you scratch his back while he's fucking you.

Especially when he's bottoming he loves it when you leave bite marks allover him. On his neck, hut also his inner tighs make him weak in the knees.

You can bite down pretty deeply. If it draws blood, he'll slightly spread his legs further for you to lick it off.

Loves it when you moan around his cock.

Def a hair puller while recieving head, bobbing your head forcefully up and down making you gag.

He asks you to show your tongue after you've swallowed.

Loves calling you "my good slut"

Enjoys having his hands tied back while you ride him. He loves the way you body bounces while you move atop of him while he strains his hands in his cuffs.

He loves when you use him, ignoring his needs and pleasuring yourself.

The idea of his partners useing him while he's tied up and gagged, unable to stop them from edging and overstimulating him. One on top of him and the other eyeing them like a predator. Man that's maybe even better then drugs for him.

He loves hunting. Whether it's chasing you in a haunted house before taking you against the wall or you chasing him before making him crumble under your fingers.

Even though he's a shit, he knows the importance of knowing what your partner wants, and he'd make sure to get to know your prefrences beforehand. After all, what fun would it be if you're not up to do what he wants?

Aftercare after quickies is rare but when you have played a scene with him he will help you clean up and ask you about your opinion of the scene.

He knows no personal space. He cuddles with you until you both fall asleep, but leaves in the morning after showering and eating. (ofc depending on how close u are. If it's just a one night stand he leaves for sure, unless u put some magic on him. If youre more of a regular thing he'd make himself comfortable until u wake up and leave afterwards)

I have no clue how many words this is, but thank you for reading! :)

IHis lips also look so pink and juicy in the newest chapters, did he buy him some lipgloss or smthh?? I love itttt

#Yoo Wooin #Wooin #wooin windbreaker #Wooin headcanons #Woonin #windbreaker #windbreaker wooin #Windbreaker headcanons #nb!reader #Sfw

[hiro-doodlez]

LIST OF ENGLISH ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS (the random letters that people use sometimes)!! FEEL FREE TO USE AS A REF (reference) SHEET!! In alphabetical too!!

Tone indicators at the bottom!

GENERAL:

AFK- away from keyboard

AKA- also known as

ASAP- as soon as possible

ASL- American Sign Language

B4- before

BC- because

BF- boyfriend

BFF- best friends forever

BTW- By the way

BTS- Behind the scenes/back to school / that one band

BRB- be right back

CW: content warning

Cya- see ya

DM- direct message

DW- dont worry

EZPZ- easy peasy

FB- Facebook

FW: flash warning

FAQ- frequently asked questions

FYI- for your information

GF- girl friend

GG- good game

GJ- Good job

GL- good luck

Gnite- good night

GTFO- get the fuck out

GTG- got to go

Gud- good

H8- hate

HBD- happy birthday

Hella- really

HMU- Hit me up

HW- Homework

IDK- I don't know

IDC- I don't care

IG- I guess / instagram

IK- I know

IKR- I know right

K- okay

Lmao- laughing my ass off

Kewl- cool

Kk- okay

Lol- laugh out loud

ILY- I love you

ILYSM- I love you so much

IMO- in my opinion

IRL- in real life

IYKYK- if you know you know

JFC- Jesus fucking chrkst

Jk- just kidding

L8R- later

LMAO- laughing my ass off

LMK-let me know

LOL- laughing out loud

Mkay- mm okay

NE- Any

NE1- anyone

NGL- not gonna lie

NM- Nothing much

NP: no problem

NSFW- not safe for work

NVM- nevermind

NW- no worries

Obv- obviously

OFC- of course

OMW- on my way

OP- original post(er)

OTP- one true pairing

Ova- over

Pic- picture

Pls-please

Plz-please

POV: point of view

Ppl- people

Prolly- probably

QOTD- quote of the day

R- are

RB- reblog

Ref- reference

Rly- really

RN- right now

RP- role play

RPG-role playing game

RT- retweet

Sec- second

SH- self harm

SMH- shaking my head

SMP- survival multiplayer server (Minecraft) / social media platform (?)

S.O- significant other

Sui- suicide

Sus- suspicious

STFU- shut the fuck up

T- testosterone

TBA- to be announced

TBF- to be fair

TBH- to be honest

TF- the fuck

Thnks- thanks

Thx- thanks

TLDR- too long didn't read (usually a summary)

TMRW- tomorrow

TOS- terms of service

TTYL-talk to you later

TW: trigger warning

Vid- video

WTF- what the fuck

WYD- what are you doing?

YOLO- You only live once

YT- YouTube

YW- you're welcome

—————

If the one youre looking for isnt here, either i forgot or its a fandom! Id suggest looking it up if youre confused!

Extra note: if you see 8 in one of the acronyms, then it usually is used as an “ate” sound. So h8= ate, gr8= great ect.

—————

TONE INDICATORS:

/aff- affectionate

/c- copypasta

/cb- clickbait (?)

/f- fake

/gen- genuine

/genq- genuine question

/half joking

/ij- inside joke

/j- joking

/lyr- lyrics

/lh- light hearted

/lu- little upset

/neg- negative

/nf- not forced

/nm- not mad

/npa- not passive aggresive

/nsrs- not serious

/p- platonic

/pa- passive aggresive

/pos- positive

/q- quote

/r- romantic

/ref

/s- sarcastic

/srs- serious

/t- teasing

/th- threat

I HOPE THIS HELPS!! and if i forgot to add one feel free to send an ask ^^

#hiro.txt #abbreviations #english help #tone indicators

[genericpuff]

Okay, what the FUCK is Inklore?

My ULO pals and I have been deliberating on this one since it was announced. "Inklore", the brand new imprint from Random House Worlds - which is, in and of itself, an imprint of Penguin Random House - and Rachel Smythe Presents, an in-house program of sorts that's dedicated to graphic novels, specifically those that "tell updated, romantic versions of classic stories and mythologies, and caters to readers looking for bingeable, relationship-driven stories with a distinct visual voice."

Basically it's exactly how it sounds - they're creating an imprint for works like Lore Olympus, and using Rachel as the leading lady.

But let's dig a little deeper. Because the more I searched on Inklore, Rachel Smythe Presents, and Random House Worlds, the more it started to paint a picture of what's really going on here.

INKLORE

I talked about this in my recent analysis of LO's pacing problems, but Inklore launching in Spring 2024 conveniently lines up with what would seem like a reasonable end point for LO. Rachel's always lined up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays - even when it's been at her comic's own expense - and while we've kept our minds open to the possibility that it could end later than Spring, there's no denying at this point that LO itself is dragging itself out, which gives me stronger reason to believe it's just trying to make it to March, specifically March 20th, which is the first day of Spring in the northern hemisphere. Because of this, our best predictions right now is that LO's series finale will either release on FP or unlock for free readers on either the 16th or 23rd of March (if it unlocks for free on either of those dates, that means we can expect the series to end behind the FP paywall on either April 6th or 13th, assuming they're aren't any more hiatuses, but at this point I doubt there will be.)

Moving on, let's look at the actual Inklore site-

Already you can get the vibe of what kind of work they're looking for through their imprint. This is for people like Rachel. Now, I'm definitely not going to rag on anyone's tastes, I myself am a weeb of epic proportions, but considering you're about to see what's really the highlight of this site, you'll get what I mean when I say this isn't for people like Rachel, this is for people like Rachel. Specifically Rachel.

RACHEL SMYTHE PRESENTS

Inklore seems to be just an imprint specifically for Rachel Smythe Presents, with a couple extra series tacked on to give off the impression of it being more credible than it is. It means the whole site can be dedicated to it, rather than having it shoved in haphazardly alongside Penguin Random House's other works. You'll see what I mean in a second, but let's magnify those questions real quick, shall we?

As soon as I saw the "we are not accepting unsolicited pitches for Rachel Smythe Presents", it dawned on me that Rachel's own fans don't know how imprints work. Why do I say that? Look no further than the comment sections on her announcement posts for RSP (which I'm abbreviating, but I assure you, it stands for "Rachel Sex Party"- /j)

Of course, there are plenty of "congratulations" comments and "please do xyz myth", in which case, please, don't let her touch more myths I beg you-

But then there are also the odd comments of people asking how to get involved themselves. People who are just, by all accounts, regular people on the Internet.

But wait, how do you get involved? Thankfully there's a handy URL in that FAQ telling us how.

And holy shit, it's hilarious.

Guys, it's so easy to get into Rachel Smythe Presents! All you have to do is finish a manuscript, find an agent who's willing to work with a new unpublished author (and hope that they're not a scammer), get your manuscript prepared for publishing and submitted to editors, and then hopefully land a book deal! Wasn't that so easy?? Thanks for demystifying the process, Penguin Random House!

Listen, okay, there's something to be said about how difficult it is to navigate the publishing world. While some of those difficulties are for good reason - to ensure that not just any piece of crap thrown on paper can get published - many more are rooted in privilege, racial gatekeeping, and sexism. It is still an industry being run by a lot of nasty old fucks who take full advantage of people desperate enough to get their book published.

All that aside, it's kind of hilarious - in a sad kind of way - to see fans of this comic assume that this project and its opportunities were ever made for them. It wasn't. It wasn't made for the Canvas creators, it wasn't made for the Wattpad writers, it wasn't made for the people who work in the medium that Rachel started out in to get where she is today. It was made for the people who are already 3 of the 4 steps into Penguin Random House's "helpful" guide on publishing. It was made for the Cait Corrains and the wannabe Rick Riordans.

At best, Inklore is simply a home that's been manufactured for Lore Olympus after it's done on Webtoons. It may remain on the WT platform forever - or maybe not - but Inklore gives it a way to be seen and acknowledged outside of its niche. Because, despite Webtoons attempting to make Lore Olympus a global phenomenon, it really hasn't sold well in other countries, especially those where it was translated which people from those countries have stated it's not translated well at all.

It goes to show that much of LO's claim to fame was manufactured within North America by Webtoons itself, and Inklore is just another one of those manufactured attempts.

Still don't believe me? Still think I'm wearing too much tinfoil?

There are still only two series that Inklore has to show for itself - and remember, it launches in two months - and of course the ones leading that charge are every single volume of LO, even the ones that aren't "new and upcoming" anymore.

And then there's their Instagram, which is just more of the same-

(wonder if they ever found a Marketing Manager? Not exactly the role you want to be left empty leading up to a launch, oop-)

But wait, doesn't that site layout look a little... off? Almost cheap, maybe? Am I being too harsh-

Oop, nope, it's the exact same template used for the LoreOlympusBooks.com website.

Wait a minute, what about the imprint that Inklore is attached to? Random House Worlds?

RANDOM HOUSE WORLDS

... Uhhuh. I'm not entirely convinced that Lore Olympus is in any way on the same level as fucking Star Wars but to the average onlooker, this would make Lore Olympus seem pretty big and important simply on the virtue of it sitting smack dab in the middle of a grid of massive franchises.

So I'll bite, where do these buttons go? They all lead to external sites selling books and merchandise (except for the Marvel Studios one, which hilariously doesn't have a URL attached, so that button goes nowhere LMAO)

... Oh. It's that layout again.

Not all of them have the same layout, mind you, but it seems to be the default layout for sites they just haven't buffed up yet. It would explain why the Star Wars and D&D sites are a lot more robust in their designs, while others just link back to Penguin Random House:

Now the Minecraft one does look better at first glance, but it's still just the same template as the LO site, with a slightly different layout, but working off the same design philosophy, like they just spent a few extra hours dragging things around and spiffying them up in a site editor.

So it seems a lot of the default sites are working off the same CSS stylesheets, which doesn't exactly look good for LO and Inklore's online identity.

But hey, it's gotta mean something that LO is sitting alongside such franchises as Star Wars, Marvel, Magic the Gathering, and Minecraft, right? These are some of the biggest franchises on the planet, and while LO does make a lot of money, it's still nowhere near the billions that these franchises generate every single year.

And that's what I would be saying, if I hadn't noticed the specific products that Random House Worlds was selling - all easily churned out merch, from cookbooks to spin-off titles, which aren't exactly the main draw for these franchises, simply stocking stuffers or otherwise fun gimmicks to try out.

(I actually own the Dungeons and Dragons tarot deck. It's shit. They don't actually tell you the suit of the cards, JUST the numbers, so you have to flip through the book and match up the pictures on the cards with the pictures in the book just to figure out if it's Cups, Pentacles, Wands, or Swords, which I'm sure you can figure out, if you're a tarot reader, is very inconvenient and doesn't make for a good card reading experience)

Point is, Random House Worlds seems to mostly be an imprint dedicated solely to the cheaper products and books they can make to pump up a franchise's merch count. Even the Critical Role site doesn't offer the campaign books, those are published by their own personal imprint Darrington Press and are offered on their main - and much better designed - site:

Instead it's selling printed versions of interviews and... mad libs.

Not made or even really endorsed by the Critical Role cast, because if they were, they'd be on the main site, where the good shit is.

Random House Worlds is, at least judging off what I've found here, the "trick the parents into buying it" imprint. It's simply there for parents to see, go "my kid watches / plays that!" and then buy a Beholder puzzle which their kid will undoubtedly start and then never finish and eventually throw out half-finished after all the pieces have been lost. It's the cheap merch money generating machine, with works written by people who were simply paid to write it, and not people actually involved in the larger franchises.

And this is the imprint that Inklore and Rachel Smythe Presents is going to be an extension of.

At best, Inklore will likely just be a home for Rachel's work post-Webtoons, with maybe the odd success outside of it. At worst, it comes across as nothing more than an ego project, another artificial attempt to place Rachel and LO on the same playing field as Marvel, Minecraft, Star Wars, and Dungeons & Dragons through the only means that they can - an imprint that specializes in off-brand books, which they're truly counting on people just seeing the logos and going "wow those are big franchises!" and associating LO with that status simply by affiliation - without it having anywhere near the actual level of prestige, household influence, or brand recognition.

Its readership is dying out, its stats dropping, and worst of all, the vast majority of people - of which its a very small amount - who have heard about LO without being a Webtoons user themselves have heard how infamous it is in its bad writing and poor art direction.

It has nowhere to go but down, and if you were hoping to be a part of Rachel Smythe Presents, then all I can suggest to you is to go through the very simple process of finishing your manuscript, finding an agent, finding an editor, and then (hopefully) landing a book deal with the 'esteemed' Inklore.

Good luck! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #inklorebooks #inklore

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hi there! Did I hear you say that requests are open for Kol Mikaelson? Yes? Excellent! (You have made a mistake in giving me this power.)

Okay, I've been thinking about this for a while, so would you be willing to do a Kol x ghost!reader fic? I was thinking it could take place after Kol comes back from the dead in NOLA and he starts seeing this girl hanging around the compound - a girl no one else can see. He and this ghost become really close friends but she doesn't remember anything about her life or death - just that she's dead and can't leave the compound. But over time she begins remembering and realizes that her new best friend is the one who killed her in the first place....

I know that's really specific but you can decide the rest and I can't wait to see what you make of this idea 🥰 Thank you so much, lovely!!!

🍄 Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff/light angst

🍄 Summary: Since returning from the dead, Kol had wanted to live his life to the fullest. The last thing he planned was to have a dead stalker.

🍄 Word Count: 1783

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Death, blood, mentions of murder, a little Twilight bashing

🍄 Note: Thank you for this request @fitzs-trained-monkey! I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took so long, this was such a great request I wanted to make sure I did it justice. I intend on making 1 or 2 more parts to this to build a mini series soon! Hope you enjoy! 😊

Kol had seen you twice before he knew who you were.

The first had been a few days after Davina had successfully returned him to his original body. You had been hovering outside the Compound, watching. At first, Kol had assumed you were some kind of spy. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had been sent to gather intel on his family and report back to aid in some plan for their demise. But then he had caught sight of your attire. The front of your clothing was caked in the thick red liquid he and his family had come to crave, yet he couldn’t smell a thing. He had started to follow you but you had slipped down a short and narrow street and merged amongst the many tourists, disappearing from sight and unable to track you, Kol hadn’t given it another thought.

The second time had been during one of the extravagant parties his brother Niklaus had decided to throw. It was just after midnight and despite the glorious variety of alcohol and women available, Kol was bored. Elijah had been droning on about something, but Kol wasn’t too sure what they were talking about anymore, but one thing he did know was that he wasn’t interested in anything his brother had to say. Elijah’s words seemed to skim over his head as he stared aimlessly at the people below. The noble Elijah could be so boring. Kol was mentally planning his escape route when you caught his eye from the balcony. You were dressed in the same clothes as before and you were still completely caked in blood. In a split second, Kol had placed his drink precariously on the edge of the balcony railing and took off in your direction, weaving his way through the crowded bodies. Kol had been aware of Elijah’s presence behind him, but still he followed you, determined to find out who you were. As he and Elijah stormed through the doorway you had passed through, you stood still opposite, eyes wide having been caught red-handed.

“Who are you?” Kol demanded. Silence only greeted him as your lips parted in shock.

“Kol, who are you talking to?” Kol flashed his brother an annoyed glance.

“Her-“ He flicked his head around to see you still stood there frozen. “I’ve seen her twice now!”

“Kol,” his brother spoke slowly, as you offered a small smile and an awkward wave. “There’s no one here.”

And now here he was, sat in the armchair he had bought for his room, book in hand. He didn’t flinch as he heard your breathing by his ear, his eyes remaining focused on the lines of words. It was one of the things about Kol that no one could’ve guessed, him being a reader. Since his return from the dead he had spent the majority of his time, when he wasn’t bothering his brothers that is, catching up on all of the literature he had missed in the years he had been in that blasted coffin. When he had been awoken by the Salvatore brothers, he barely had the time to read given his murderous mother and then the orders that Niklaus had tasked him with in regards to Jeremy Gilbert. But now he had the time.

He lifted a hand from the arm of the chair and flipped the page, he scanned the last few lines of the chapter then slipped in a bookmark and closed the book.

“I don’t understand the appeal myself,” Kol explained as he flipped the book in his hands, glancing across the cover. “Edward seem’s like a right twat.”

“Right!” you gasped, finally glad that someone could see the true colours of the fictional vampire. “He’s so controlling and manipulative, you see that as you move on through the books. But I mean the total disregard for his family’s safety,” Kol nodded along. “And don’t even get me started on Bella. you’s so bland, I mean seriously? I mean I get what Stephenie Meyer was trying to do make her like the average girl, but there’s average and then there’s boring, stale even,” Kol didn’t dare speak as you rambled on, a sprinkle of glittery stars appearing in your eyes as you continued to express your distaste for the bland character.

It was extraordinary - you were extraordinary.

You couldn’t remember a thing about your living life. Not your family, friends, not where you lived, anything you had done. The furthest you and Kol had gotten was a name, although it had taken the pair of you a few hours and a few dozen phone books to come up with that. There were a few (y/n)’s in the phone book of New Orleans that had been circulated just a few months ago, but even then you couldn’t identify which of the (y/n)’s you were. But now you had a name. Kol could no longer just refer to you as ‘the dead stalker’, which after a few weeks had become less of an insult and more of a term of endearment.

You couldn’t remember anything about your life, but you could remember intense feelings, like these feelings about Bella and Edward from Twilight. You also had had intense feelings about Kol’s relationships with his siblings that were still shaky and that had led Kol to the assumption that family was an important thing to you when you were alive.

“Oh, I’m rambling, sorry…” Kol was certain he could see a blush beginning to flush your cheeks as you dropped your gaze to the book cover, avoiding his eyes.

“No, please, don’t be sorry, darling,” He grinned. “How could I ever tire of your sweet voice?” Kol knew exactly what he was doing. Since he had first realized how shy you could be, he had been doing everything in his power to make you blush like the delicate rose that you were and every time so far, he had succeeded.

“And who’s sweet voice would that be, brother?” Niklaus’ words shattered the peaceful comfort that had settled in the room and Kol’s grin dipped slightly.

“Well yours of course, Niklaus, who else?” Kol flickered his eyes to you as you giggled into your hand, not that his brothers could hear you. Elijah stepped further into the room whilst Niklaus stayed situated at the door, resting against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest a slight grimace on his lips.

Elijah was more suspicious than his counterpart, Kol could tell. It was the way his eyes flickered around every inch of the room, searching for any intruder that could be hiding. Which only made it all the more amusing to Kol that Elijah would never find the intruder, you.

“Is there a reason you interrupted my reading time, or did you just wish to throw my afternoon plans out of the window?” In a split second, Niklaus had sped past Kol and grabbed the book from his hands, flipping it in his own to read the cover.

“The sparkly vampires. Really Kol?”

“A friend recommended it,” Kol defended as he sped past Niklaus to take the book back and rested it on the small side table by the chair. He watched out the corner of his eye as you slipped down from the arm of the chair and sat comfortably, your legs thrown over one of the arms and your back rested against the other.

“You have friends-?”

“I think we’re getting a bit off track here, Niklaus,” Elijah interrupted before Kol could snark back at their brother. “We came here to politely ask that you stop terrorizing the women at the local library,” Elijah ran his fingers along the spines on the bookcase wall. “It’s come to our attention from the Human faction that you’ve been spending a lot of time at the library talking with the women, one in particular being the daughter of the new Faction leader, Ottilie Landry. As you can imagine, he is hardly pleased knowing that you have been hovering around her.”

“I haven’t been terrorizing anyone,” Kol spoke firmly, all signs of amusement drained from his features leaving a displeased anger in it’s place. “Yes, I went down to the library. And yes, I asked the lovely ladies working there for their help, but I have not upset anyone. I did not threaten nor compel anyone.”

“Then why would they do as you asked?” Niklaus questioned, not bothering to hide the accusatory tone that slipped from his tongue.

“I simply asked brother. Not all of us are so feral that we’ve forgotten how to interact with others.” The slight twitch of Niklaus’ eyes was enough for Kol to know that he had successfully tapped a nerve. Elijah must’ve noticed too as he quickly carried on.

“What is it you’ve asked them to do, Kol? What could you possibly want with the library staff? You know the rules on feeding on the locals-”

“Of course,” Kol scoffed. “If I’m involved it must mean I’m up to something sinister. I must be out to destroy the city that you build whilst I was tucked away in that retched box,” his voice heightened as the underlying anger began to boil. “God forbid, I wish to live here peacefully like the rest of you. I must be up to something. Well, no, Elijah. I did not plan on feeding from the locals. I simply asked them to look through the old archives for some information I wanted to find. Is that sinister enough for you?”

A silence filled the air and despite Kol’s simmering anger, neither of his brothers seemed to care for his words, although Elijah did have the decency to look a little uncomfortable but it disappeared in a split second.

“I’m sure you’re expecting me to take off and massacre half of New Orleans in a fit of rage. Anything that would excuse you shoving one of those bloody daggers into my chest for another few centuries, right?” Kol scoffed. “But lucky for you brothers, I’ve grown up and changed my toxic ways,” His phone vibrated against the side of his leg in his jeans pocket and he slipped it out just enough to glance at the screen briefly. “It’s just a shame you haven’t done the same.”

Kol made his way out of the room, knowing that you were following close behind. He began to make his way to the entrance of the compound, not stopping till he was just out of sight of his brothers before he held his phone screen up to show you the text that had come through.

‘I found something. Tilly.’

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson oneshot #kol mikaelson imagine #kol #kol x reader #kol oneshot #kol imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries oneshot #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd #tvd x reader #tvd oneshot #tvd imagine #the originals #the originals oneshot #the originals x reader #the originals imagine #request #reqs open #requests open