#like it's not that good and it's only got 2 chapters

[dianneking]

The Affair - Chapter 2 (Larissa/Reader)

Hello everyone, here's the second installment to this little fic. Writing has been slow-going but the kind comments I got on chapter 1 both here and on AO3 were a great motivation to put in the work when I had the time and brainpower to do so. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature Tags: Alcohol consumption, Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Seduction, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader, Power Imbalance.

AO3 link in title below

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Chapter 2 - Private Booth

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.” She murmured in your ear and you heard a breathy laugh exiting your mouth, feeling as if it came from miles away. 

You weren’t sure how the evening had evolved to this point, if you had to be perfectly honest. You were sure you both had been the picture of professionality at the start of your dinner together, sitting primly at the table in the private booth, ordering a light meal and talking about lesson plans and your previous work experiences.

You had been nervous, but except for the unusual setting, it hadn’t been that different from countless other meetings you’d had with principals. And, you mused as you took a bite of your salad, to be honest you appreciated having this conversation over food for once instead than in a stuffy office. 

Was it some sort of cultural difference that outcasts had? Or was it a peculiarity of the woman sitting in front of you? She seemed like someone who was more than able to disregard rules if she wanted to. 

You found yourself liking that, despite your usual aversion for rule breaking.

Then…then Larissa (she had asked you to call her Larissa at some point, you were sure of that) Larissa had offered to share a bottle of wine “to toast together at a fruitful collaboration” and you had had half a mind to turn the offer down, but found yourself agreeing. Why the hell not? It had been ages since you drank some good wine, and your principal looked like the kind of woman who’d only choose good alcohol. 

“You have great taste,” you had commented, sipping on your first glass, and it had been at that moment that you had felt the energy in the booth starting to shift. She had dabbed her mouth on her napkin, and let her eyes roam over your figure for a handful of seconds more than it was polite to do before replying, “Oh of course. I very rarely lose my time when it’s not worth it.” Her lips had curved up in a smirk and you had had to take another sip of that wine to give time to your suddenly galloping heart to slow down a bit. Surely she was still talking about the wine, wasn’t she?

But then the conversation had moved on and you thought you had imagined the flirty undertone. Surely she wouldn’t be the type to do something like that, would she? Even if you hadn’t actively sought out gossip, surely you would have heard if Nevermore’s principal was a serial seducer, right? 

Larissa had been an extremely pleasant conversationalist, and often you found yourself invested in the latest anecdote from one of her travels, or her opinion on one subject or another. You laughed at her recounting of the antics of her students, and were amazed at the lavish traditions of Nevermore that she insisted on educating you on. 

You could have listened to her talk all night long, looking at how her face danced with emotions, how the passion she had for her job and her loyalty to her school shone in her voice as well as her eyes. And the way she ran her tongue against her teeth every now and then had you completely mesmerized. You were hanging on her lips and had given up feeling self conscious about it. You wanted to know more about this mysterious lady. You wanted to know all that she’d be willing to tell you.

And you were acutely aware that you still hadn’t discovered what exactly had happened that had left her for several months on sick leave. The students talked of an attack of undead  to the school but you were sure those were exaggerations, and that there was a less…fanciful explanation. Teenagers are known for making a big deal out of small mundanities. Even taking that into account, it seemed like mysteries surrounded this woman, wrapping around her like the subtle yet lingering scent of her perfume. 

“You smell amazing.” You had blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over your own mouth, horrified at your sudden boldness. That was not something to say to your boss who apparently still had the power to fire you if she somehow found you lacking! 

But she hadn’t bristled, nor had she seemed in any way angry or offended. She had simply chuckled lightly, and busied herself with swirling wine inside her glass with slow, hypnotic movements.

“Thank you, dear. It’s Ambre Nuit, by Dior, obviously.”

“...Obviously.” You had parroted back, even though you knew nothing about perfumes and even less about Dior. Your eyes were glued to her hand, still cradling the bowl of the wine glass. You had not noticed until now just how long and tapered and beautiful her fingers were. How effortlessly they curled on the glass shoulder to loosely swirl its contents. A part of you wondered how those hands would feel on your body.

“You know? You could smell it even better if you came to sit beside me…there’s plenty of space on this bench…” her voice had trailed off, and it might have been the wine coursing in your system, but this time you felt like you could almost taste the promises in her voice. 

And that’s how you had found yourself squeezed besides her on the bench, your thigh pressed against hers, the fabric of her dress and of your trousers the only thing separating your skin from making contact with hers. You were acutely aware of how dimmed the lights had been in the private booth, and how the waiters had stopped coming around after they had delivered your desserts. 

A perfect setup, suggested the romantic part of your brain, a part that was often overlooked and laid dormant in the day to day routine.

A perfect trap, countered the more cynical part, who couldn't help but wonder how many times had the beautiful woman beside you put on this show for her latest prey. 

It just all seemed so effortless for her. She mixed her flirting (it had to be flirting by now, right?) with more easygoing topics, she kept topping your glass off with that lovely wine, as well as drinking just as much herself. One part red flag, one part irresistible temptation.  

And it was at that point that she had leaned over, and you had felt her breath hot on your ear, and you were sure you had drank way too much wine because just that little puff of air made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your head spin. 

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.”

“I must be dreaming” you said before your common sense could stop you, the tingling of your giggle still in your throat.

But not even in your wildest dreams could you have imagined how her hand felt as it fell on your thigh, light as a feather, but making your skin burn white hot even through the fabric.. 

“Well I suppose I’ll have to pinch you then.”

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[vanya-evergreen]

How to remember. (chapter 2)

<Prev

Relationship: BatFam x reader

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite school , but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

CW: life threatening situation, panic, knife, blood (no death)

A/N- Prologue will be posted in a few days., this is chapter was originally written with out the outline but got one halfway through so if there are inconstancies please tell me.

“Welcome the 9 pm GBC News, we are currently following batman and robin while they pursue-” Click

You are hanging upside down on your couch, clicking through the local news channels trying to find the best view of the chase. Your laptop was discarded besides you. It’s open to an article from years ago about Dick Grayson ‘soaring through’ the annual charity ball on the chandler when he first was adopted into the Wayne family. There were multiple other browsers open, all on the Wayne Family and their lucrative businesses and charities, along with their scandals too. 

You said you would do your research. 

Your attention was taken away from this ‘research’ as a new alert about Batman and Robin chasing some nameless villain, who had kidnapped some poor boy, on founders island came up. No new station could find a good angle, you were annoyed.

“Damn you!” you toss the remote to the other side of the coach, quickly you flip yourself around to sit up right. You push your feet out to propel yourself off of the coach. You mumble about how they do it on purpose, they were trying to make you read their shit article. You had to wait for social media to do its thing of supplying you with clips of your favorite heroes (well not absolute favorites). You look around the apartment, for something new or interesting but nothing. Now, your apartment was nothing to overlook, it always seems to have been updated without you knowing. It always had the latest tech, or trendiest look. You have been rich for 7 years now and still can't seem under it.

 You walk over to the floor to ceiling windows, looking down you see people walking home or to a club, taxis and cars driving in opposite directions. Slowly the news faded to the back of your mind.

Nights in Gotham were always busy, especially near Old Gotham. It was rich with history and culture, and also money too. When you first woke up in this world you wanted to visit every place possible. You went to museums, office buildings, the GCDP nearby, and shops you had never even heard of. You used to stand out on the corner of the street watching the luxury cars pass by, while your ‘Assistant’,  Val Miller, carried bags from the toy store you frequented, or the candy stores you couldn’t help but indulge in. You looked up at the neighboring building, the neon lights danced in your eyes. There was one that always caught your eye.

You went into that office building, or Wayne tower, once. You were dressed like a typical kid or preteen, you wouldn’t stop looking at all the expansive interior.The front desk workers thought it was the funniest thing that a kid was excited to be there. They gave you a small tour of the base floor level and let you answer some calls. It was great for you.  You were just a kid when you came here, and even now you are just a kid. Everything was new and shiny to you. 

This place is a far cry from your home near the east end of gotham. There was a high rate of villain bases and criminal activity in your area. While it wasn’t the safest environment for you as a child, it is what you knew. It’s where you learned to survive, how to live. So you tried your best to protect your small place of peace, your shabby second floor apartment. Full of splitters waiting to happen and ready to cause a concussion at any moment, it was far from ideal, but it had running water, gas, and occasionally heat. You lived with your mother, she was a brilliant flash of light in the darkest corner of Gotham. While she was no saint, she did what she could with what she had.

“___”  a gravelly voice with an Australian accent called you.  You snap back to reality quickly. You turn your head to see Val holding a dish of food for you. “You're doing it again.” He doesn’t really have the butler look, well built, around mid to late 40’s (you never found the right time to ask) and as many people have said he’s a DILF, even though he isn’t a dad.

When you ‘first’ met him when you woke up here, you felt weird calling him your butler, as you had suddenly become rich. You told him that you call him advisor, but he refused. You fought  a bit with him on this. In the end, you started calling him your assistant instead, he didn’t like this but dealt with it.

“Yeah, I know.” You nod, you turn back to the window. “What should I be doing instead? My school work?” You say with an assumed grin. You had already finished all the school work available.

“You should be eating.” he steps closer and shoves the dish into your hand. “If you want to return home you need food, think of a way to do that.” you look down at the food. He was one of few people that knew some of your predicament. You wish it was only you who knew anything, but it did make blending in easier.

“I was going to get Batburger later.” You push the food around, you know it tastes good. You just feel bad for eating food that never felt like it was made for you.

“Yeah,” he places a hand on your head “but you have had it every night for the past week.” he smiles, pushing your head down while messing with your hair. “So if you don’t want me to put you on house arrest this weekend, I recommend you eat up.”

“Okay.” You begrudgingly agree, taking a few bites. It was, of course, amazing. You went back to your laptop, scrolling through the gossip article as you ate. You reloaded the page.

“How was school today?” He sits down on the opposite side of the couch, the news still going on in the background. “And don't just say that it was school;” he cracked a smile as he did a horrible imitation of your voice “give me a real answer.”

“Well, uh I met someone new today” You say while you are reading about him and his entire family tree. “It was kinda a rough start though.”

“Oh wow! That's the most I have ever gotten out of ya!’ You gave him a look, he backed off “How was it a ‘rough start’?” 

You take a few more bites of your food, you reload the page hoping for some newer article to pop up. You read through the titles. “Uh well I ran into him, and didn’t properly apologize,” Val bursts out with laughter, “we fought a bit, we had the classic ‘i don't know your family’ talk.” you say absently mindly, you are stuck on one particular headline. “ I apologized later and we talked a bit.”

“Well that's just funny.” He struggles to regain his composure, “So who was he?” He smiled to himself.

“Damian Wayne.” you read the headline again, ‘ insider look ahead for the outfit for the yearly wayne enterprise charity ball…’ You clicked on the article and skimmed through the first paragraphs, ‘held at Wayne tower…’. Now you just felt stupid. You look from your computer to ask Val a question, but he seemed to blank at the mention of Damian. “So uh- did where is the mail? I am expecting something.”  you interrupted Val’s internal monologue. 

“It’s on the table,” he blinks a few times, “he didn’t recognize you right?” you get up from the couch and walk to the dining table.

“You and I both know what I will say to that.” You look back at him with an indifferent look. You find a pile of mail on the table, wow it had to be at least years worth of mail. Note to self, read the mail.’ you begin to go through the mail mountain.

“Okay, but how did you tell him? Does he only know your name?” You look up for a moment, then look back down. You started sorting the mail into several piles.

“He knows my name and that I have an engineering class”  You find mostly spam and some magazines you don’t remember signing up for, but about half through the pile you find an envelope with an elegant print of the front reading ‘Wayne enterprises’ You tear it open.

“Okay, but did you not know the Wayne family?” Val walked over to the other side of the table trying to get a glance at what you are reading. “Aren't you from Gotham in the other world too?”

“Another question you already have an answer to.” The card was a few months ago, it was an invite to this weekend Charity ball, it had no RSVP deadline. Maybe you will cause some chaos this weekend. You put that card to the side and start pulling out every envelope with a similar appeal to it. There were about 5 in the past year sent to you. 

“What are you expecting today?” Val picked up an envelope and looked over it. He turns it over and starts picking at the wax seal. You quickly take it from his hands and flip it over to the front. It was another card from the Waynes, but much more recent.

“Don't you know it's a federal crime to open mail not addressed to you?” You tear it open, disregarding the care put into sealing it. ‘Another invite to the ball thing.’  You picked up the first one sent a few months ago. You could tell based on the wording the newer one seemed more of a notification that your attendance was expected then a pleasant reminder of an event you could go to. “Damn.” 

“What?” Val tries to read the card but you close it and toss it on the ground.”What so wrong?” you walk away as He picks up the card.

“ It seems like I have something to do this weekend.” You flop back down on the couch, and pick up your phone to call someone. Val makes a face at the card.

“ ‘Wayne enterprise is excited for you to be in attendance of this year's Charity ball, we can not wait to see you’ “ He reads aloud, “did you rsvp to this?” he didn’t seem as energetic as before.

“No,” You dial the number of the other assistant. “I didn’t even see it until tonight.” They pick up rather quickly “Hey Percy, yeah it’s been awhile. I need clothes for an event.” you bite your fingernails, Percy was less than happy with you.”Yeah I know, but i didn’t know i was going until like 3 minutes ago.” They nag you for a while , “what event? Uh- The Wayne charity ball…” It was quiet on the other line for a good while, then they scream into the phone. “Calm down please! I just need to know if you do it or not. You can? Really? Thank you so much!”

“Wow, they are in their mid 30’s and already growing white hair from you.” Val puts the card on the table, then turns towards you. “Why do you have to go?”

“Well, they are expecting me.” Precy hangs up on you. You turn off your phone and place it on the table. “Plus I think it’s about time I understand more about my family.” 

“There is no way for me to stop you, is there?” Val places a hand on the edge of the couch and leans on it.

“Nope!” You get up and grab your phone, leaving your mostly eaten food and laptop to be disregarded until tomorrow. Then turn off the tv. “And seeing as I have stuff today and tomorrow now, I am going to sleep so I recommend you do the same.” You tease.

“Mhm, like you're going to sleep at only 10 pm.” you walk past val and stick your tongue out “Hey!” he tries to grab you shoulder but you are already running up the stair.

“See you tomorrow Val!” You cheerfully shout down the stairs as you shut your door. 

Your room is dark, only illuminated by light of the city shining through your window. The room itself was large, too large in your opinion, with a king size bed in the middle, and the bathroom on the right with an attached walk-in-closet. You have a full computer setup with multiple screens on the adjacent wall centered between the fireplace and window. Yeah, this world’s you is, probably, fucking loaded. You didn’t really do much with the setup, honestly it just appeared one day. You asked Val and Percy about it but they had nothing to do with it. So just like the apartment being renovated randomly, you have a computer set up worth at least 10 k. You are really out of touch with what happens here. 

The room wasn’t lifeless, there were photos of the other, but younger. They all seemed formal, and posed. A few awards from competitions they did, academic achievements too. It was too stiff for you. Now don't think you haven’t put some stuff up. Some Batman stuff you had collected for fun, some posters, a few photos of You Val and Precy from your past birthdays, and more photos of your friend group throughout the years. You have some leftover stuff from your past hobbies you tried to fill the boredom (tennis wasn’t as fun as it seemed), plants that have lived despite you forgetting to water them.  Overall, the room didn’t feel like your space entirely but it did have that piece of you in it, so it was better than most of the apartment.

You are still in your school uniform. You know it would probably be best to shower tomorrow but you just need something to feel a bit better because last minute plans aren’t really your thing. You walk into the bathroom and turn on the light, it was covered in marble for whatever reason, rich people shit. You took off your school jacket and turned on the shower. You wait for the shower to warm up then hop in. The school weeks feel like they are getting longer as you reach closer to the end of the school year, and the end of your high school career. That was even scary to think about. 

You didn’t have a plan for after high school, or atleast beyond going to gotham university or whatever university who would send you a letter about possibly joining their program. GCU was more likely just because it's easier for your plans, but who knows? Maybe you should leave and explore the world a bit. You can’t remember the last time you had a vacation outside of New jersey. 

After you finished, your muscles felt relaxed and the fact you got to your closet was unbelievable to you. You picked out some pajamas and put them on. Your mom always wanted you to explore the world rather than being tied to Gotham like her. It wasn’t all that realistic because you didn’t have the connections or the money. You and her would daydream together talking about all the things and places you would see. Her smile was infectious to you, it was warm and sweet. She was a good parent, well when she was there. You splash water on your face and wash your face. Then brush your hair and teeth.

You stare out the window for a bit, you recall your mom used to tell you about something similar to the view in front of you. You were too young to know anything about your mom’s past but you did know that she wasn’t always poor and that she willingly left that life to protect you from whatever it is. You love her even now.

You fall on to the bed, it feels nice after a long day. You pick up your phone and scroll through social media looking for clips of Batman and Robin. They are still chasing the man, but they are closer to your area now. You watched some clips of the duo swing around the city. Wow this guy is giving them some trouble tonight. The clips are a lot better than what the news was putting out earlier, that just the power of the fans, it was scary. 

You scroll through videos and pictures of them, while most were blurry it was still super cool to see them in action. You find a live stream from a drone of Batman and Robin fighting in a familiar building. You watch for 15 minutes, until the man leaps from that build to a lower one. ‘No fucking way-’ You sit up in your bed to see the foot of the man coming toward your window. 

Crash

Instinctively you raise your arms to cover your face from the glass. You lower your arms and see there are 3 more people in the room. That man is in the same room as you. Batman and Robin are in the same room as you.

The man points a gun at you from across the room, and very quickly your sleepy mind wakes up. Batman throws a batarang hitting the gun, it falls to the ground and slides across the ground. Robin takes the man by surprise when he grabs him by his shirt and knocks him on the side of the head. Robin gets in a few more punches before the man pulls back his head and headbutts Robin. Making Robin lose his grip on him. He wasn’t free for long.

Batman had slipped behind Robin and the man after the second punch. The man pulls a smoke bomb out of his jacket and presents it to Batman as the smoke bellows out of it. He attempts to make his escape out the broken window but robin uses his grappling hook to pull him back into the room. The man hits the wall opposite of the window. He looks for any leverage he can get over them. Then he sees you. He rips you from your bed and puts a knife to your neck.

“Don’t move or I will kill them.” the man spoke calmly, he held you tightly against his chest. You straighten your neck trying to avoid the knife on your neck.Batman seems  to stare weirdly at you, a look of familiarity.

“I was about to fall asleep, man.” you laughed, this was your poor way of dealing with the possibility of death right in front of your face. Robin makes eye contact with you, he starts reaching for his sword. The man presses the knife closer to your throat, and Batman stops Robin.

“Robin has a sword?” You gawk out. You could see your tombstone now. ‘ ___ ___, their last action was being a fan of batman and robin.’ What a great thing for it to say.

“Let them go.” Batman is as stoic as ever, you love that about batman. You admire his devotion to Gotham and how even in the face of controversy his belief never waver. Batman signals for him to put away the sword.

“But-” Robin tries to argue, Batman and him exchange a look. Robin stalls in putting away his sword but he does eventually. 

“What do you want?” Batman's voice cracks ever so slightly. Robin glances at Batman before looking back at you and the man. 

“You know what I want” the man laughs, “I want the world to see the truth for once!” Of course it’s a classic case of them thinking they know the truth. They think they have found the dirty truth that the government has hidden from the masses. “They need to know of the birds,” it is about a bird great, “the birds that control the city from right under our noses.” Your skin crawls. “They live in the shadows.” he presses harder on your throat. 

You have been in situations like this before, having a knife close to your throat is nothing new to you. You try to keep your focus on Batman and Robin for the moment. Robin seems more defensive than what you have seen in the videos, but everything is downplayed in videos right? Batman, he seems off, like almost you could see the slightest panic in his stance. Batman never shows panic. You have had to read people's body language for all 18 years of your life. From the 11 spent in your original life and 7 here. You have gotten pretty good at accurately reading people's intention and emotions just from a single glance. You know Batman is unsure of what to do here. 

“You don’t have to bring innocent civilians into this .” Batman masks his worry well, better than most. Robin wasn’t any better, he looked like he was going to bite the man. Robin did look like a biter.

“You are going to listen to me batman,” Your skin feels like it’s slowly peeling aways from the way the man's words hit your neck,”You are going to let me go, let me get away.” You can hear your heart quicken. “They are going to come with me” Your heart drops. Robin runs up from the side to the man, jumps and tries to kick him in the face and to meet the side of your face instead of the man’s. Robin quickly twists himself mid-air to avoid your face. Then repealing himself off the wall and back to where he was. 

While you couldn’t see the man's entire body, you knew that if it was in between him getting away and your life, you would lose. You start spiraling, going down every rabbit hole of possibilities and outcomes. You run through everything, you grasp at every possible combination of words you can say. 

“Ha.” was the only sound you can make. A tired, half-assed, chuckle was all you could get out. You take a deep breath in, holding it, you reconsidering your life choices one more time. You know only to do one thing, one really stupid thing.

You scream, full lung scream, that slices the tense air turning it into a fight for your life. Everyone stops. You grab onto the hand of the man that holds the knife and bend forward, still screaming. While the knife presses into your throat, cutting it slightly. You are able to flip the man onto his back. You jump onto him and start throwing punches blindly. 

Slowly a ringing in your grew as the punches became more consistent in the force and speed. You notice the man's hand coming towards with the knife. You caught it mid air.

“Ha” You let out another breathy laugh. You regain most of your conscience because of the cut on your hand,  but you still feel dazed. You knew that this wasn’t your doing, if you had your mind you would probably be trying to come up with any way of explaining this, but you couldn’t think of that now.

You drop the knife, with your hand bleeding and kick it back toward Batman. You watch the man struggle to get up, you kick the man over and over again with the speed a precision of someone who trained in martial arts. He takes out another hidden knife and goes to stab it in your leg. You grab his hand right as it barely precise your skin. you bring his arm behind his back, rendering him unable to move.  He looks over his shoulder, making eye contact with. He smiles at you “you are one of them” You push him deeper in the wall. He was struggling to breathe at this point. You would have killed the man from that force but the ringing in your ear grows quieter and you become more aware.

You loosen up and you rip off a part of your pants and grab his other hand and tie them together. You push the man towards Batman and Robin. 

“You must listen to me! The people need to-” The man was cut off by Robin stuffing a tennis ball into his mouth and forcing him into Batman. Batman takes actual cuffs out of his utility belt and cuffs him. Robin kicks the back of knees, making them buckle underneath him. He tries to shout but his words are lost to the void.

Your hands run through your hair, gripping it as you realize you almost killed a man. You are aware of what you did. You knew the other you had studied martial art, but just not to what extent. The golden metals from the age groups far above your actual age should've been a clue. You take a moment to catch your breath before speaking. 

“So, what do you want to do while we wait for the police?” You smile nonchalantly, ah yes avoiding the mental pain. You notice the drone is still there. You look into the camera and give it a thumbs up  before it flies off.  You were going to have to find the clips on social media later.

“Are you okay?” Batman's voice is more stable now, he has his normal serious yet in some way caring tone. 

“Yeah,” You reach your hand up to your neck and rub it nervously. You feel something on your hand, so you take your hand off your neck and look down. Batman sees you look at your hand, he grabs it and pulls it towards him. Then look up to your neck to see the smeared red and trickles of blood coming from the earlier cut “ Well, I mean mostly?” you raise your hand that is covered in blood. Batman is unamused, but Robin suppresses a laugh. 

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Batman’s voice is completely normal, the intimidating version you are used to hearing is back. 

“Yep, go into my bathroom and on the right side there should be a big first aid kit with gauze and all.” You nodded. Batman looks over to Robin who was looking at your pictures and posters, you feel slightly embarrassed. Batman clears his throat causing Robin to turn to him, batman gestures towards the bathroom and robin wordlessly goes.

“What you did wasn't safe.” He was still holding your hand, you felt like a kid who was being scolded by a parent. The man was still attempting to scream, you stick out your tongue out your tongue at the man. 

“I know, but it’s what I felt like I had to do.” You look batman in the eyes, if it were any other time you probably wouldn’t have but adrenaline is a funny thing. You weren’t going to falter.

“I was going to get you,” he pauses. “I just needed time.”

“And I am sure you would’ve, but I think the damages would have been much greater than this.” You could see the guilt gnaw away at him. “I just did what I saw fit.” You shrug your shoulders trying to ease his guilt. You were the one who acted on impulse.

“You shouldn’t have too.” he tightened his grip on your hand, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt protective.  You take your other hand and place it on his. Robin comes back in with a giant first aid kit that looks like it's owned by an ER nurse. Batman looks over to you. 

“Can never be too prepared” You shrugged. You were always paranoid about having enough medical stuff. Batman lets go of your hand, unzips the bag and starts treating the wound, it wasn’t deep so no need for a trip to hospital. Robin goes back to the posters and starts looking at them again.

“So are you a fan of us?” He smirks slyly at you as Batman cleans up your wound wide as you look through the kit for gauze. You look up and over at him and the poster he was looking at. ‘What do you think?’

“Yes I am, is that a bad thing?” You questioned slightly annoyed him. You look back to the kit and find both the bandages and gauze. You place it besides Batman who was still cleaning up the blood off your neck.

“No,” Robin moves on from the poster to the photos on the wall, he glances over the picture with your friends, stopping at one of You Val and Percy. Robin grins devilishly to himself, you weren’t sure why. “Who are they? Are they your parents?” Batman stops for a moment and looks at the photos.

You smiled, you liked that photo. It was from your 18th birthday, you thought it was going to be just another photo like the ones before it but Val and Percy had other plans. They took out nerf guns and started shooting you right as the photo was taken, they chased you around the apartment and even outside. You loved the way they smiled in the photos, the way you smiled. You had never had such a smile, you weren't sure if you ever would again. Youall looked so carefree.

“No” you shook your head with a smile resting on your lips,” They technically work for me. They are Val and Percy” Batman eases up a bit and continues to dress your wounds while still listening to your conversation with Robin.

“Hm interesting” Robin turns back toward the wall. He reaches for a gold melt hanging on your wall. His cape moves, exposing his sword in its sheath.

“How long have you had the sword?” You thought the sword looked cool. You don’t  know much about swords, but you are sure it's a katana. He pauses and looks down to his sword, he pulls it out and swings it a bit like he is showing it off to you. You give him a small applaud as he brings it closer for you to look at.

“Since I first became robin.” he states proudly, he watches as you look it over. He visibly gets an idea. “Do you want to hold it?” He grins and offers it to you to hold. You are about to grab it but…

“No” Batman interrupts before you even get a chance to vocally respond. He was done cleaning the wound and was just finishing applying the gauze.

“Tt” Robin slides the sword back into the sheathed. You chuckled, robin went back to looking over the walls in your room, and poking around your extra stuff too. Batman focuses on finishing addressing the wounds. You just enjoy the silence. Or well the muffled screaming of the man. You look over to your alarm clock, 1 am. Well Val was right about you going to bed at 10. The police come about 5 minutes later along with Val coming up from his apartment on the lower floors. Val runs over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. He does a quick once over on you, looking specifically at your neck. The police quickly take Batman and Robin to the side to speak to him first. Batman and Robin both watch the interaction between you and Val from the corner of his eyes.

“You need to be more careful.” Val uses his hand  to move your head from one side to another so that he can get a better look at your neck bandage. You swat his hand away, but he grabs that hand, starts turning it over and pressing down on it.

“I know.” You feel safer now that Val is here. The adrenalin leaves your body as quickly as it came. You walk over to a chair near the fireplace, sitting down right as your knees give out. “I know Val.” your head falls into your hands. It has already been a long day before this, and now it is even longer. The police officer that was talking to Batman approaches. 

“My name is Jim Gordon. I am the police commissioner of the GCPD. I want to ask you a few questions.” You lift up your head from your hand for a moment to get a better look at him. He seemed worried about  You letting your head fall back into your hands, as you gestured for him to sit down in the seat across from him. “So can you walk me through what exactly happened in your point of view?” there is a comforting quality to his voice, he probably sees some kid who just fought for their life. 

You aren’t legally a kid but that doesn’t matter to him, in his eyes everyone your age is a kid. “Well-” You walk through the entire encounter, with a little too much detail. “And the man is still screaming about the fucking birds.” you say with a deadpan face, you are too tired, at this point. They were just taking away the man right now after some questioning done by Robin, they didn’t get much from him, he was too far gone.

“Well.” Gordon clears his throat “that must’ve been very hard to deal with.” He writes down everything you said. Batman and Robin standing over Gordon as Val stands behind you. You stare at the floor just fighting to stay awake to see them out. “ Where did you learn to fight?”

“Uh- I did some material arts when I was younger, not sure for how long though.” You rub your eyes and lift your head from your hands. You see the way both of the men were confused by your answer. ‘Shit right, switching worlds.’ “Oh uh right. I have a hard time recalling details at times.” This was a horrible lie. ” memory issues. But I am pretty sure I did it for 4-5 years, I assume it’s just kinda committed to muscle memory.” you tried explaining. “They did it for 5 years, between the ages of 5 and 10..” Val interjects “They are really good at it, winning several medals as you can see.” he gestured towards the walls. He saw how you need some help in keeping your stories straight. You are really grateful for him, even if he does nag you far too much. Gordon eyes Vals and writes something, Batman Glares at Val, he didn’t seem to like him for some reason.

“So what is your relation with the man behind you?” Gordon asks, he looks over his glasses and studies val.”Is he your legal guardian?” Val looks away from them and out the window.

“No, I have no legal guardian” Batman goes to speech but you put a hand up telling him to let you finish. “I have no need for one seeing as I am a legal adult. So I have no need for one, any more.” Gordon writes this down and looks back to Val who was still looking away.

“Okay well that’s all my question,” he puts the notebook away and gets up from the chair, Batman silently watches Val still, while robin chuckles to himself. “The window will be replaced by tomorrow, but for now I recommend you stay elsewhere for the night.”

“Thank you for your concern,” You got up from your chair. “But I am going to stay here tonight, because apparently, My presences is expected somewhere tomorrow.” you say in a mockingly formal voice. Robin and Batman stares get more intense. “Or well that’s what it said in the vaguely threatening letter.” 

“I don’t think you should go,” Val sighs. “But there is no stopping you once you have made up your mind”, you make eye contact with him, he is concerned. You think he worries too much. 

“You know me so well.” You smile weakly. Robin and Batman seem to have many questions, well based on robin's opened mouth, but you were tired “if you are done here i would like to rest now.”

“Well of course, we should all get going now,” Gordon signals for his team to wrap up their stuff. They clean up the glass from the window and pack up their things and leave quietly. Batman and Robin stick around, they seem to have something to say. 

“Are you sure you're alright staying here?” Batman sternly askes, you internally roll your eyes. “It's very dangerous staying in an open window.” 

“I know, and that's why I am going to sleep on the couch.” You are just trying to get them to leave as fast as possible, you have every intention of sleeping in this room. “It's pretty comfortable.”

“Where do you have to be tomorrow?” Robin's question was out of the blue, you were really sure why he felt the need to know. This kinda reminded you of Damian’s interrogation, you didn’t really feel the need to answer robin like you did damian.

“You will see.” Your answer was vague but truthful, that must be a talent of yours. Being vaguely truthful. “I am sure of it” You can already see the clip from the live stream going viral overnight. You can’t wait to see how they react when they see the same person in media photos of Wayne ball.

“But-”

“Robin, that's enough.” Batman cutoff robin. Finally he understood that you are tired, and are trying to get them to leave in the nicest way possible.. “We have to go make sure the kid returned home safely.” Robin mutters as he shoots his grappling hook out the broken window. Batman stared at you and Val for a moment longer. “Enjoy whatever you are doing tomorrow.” You wave goodbye as Batman follows robin out the window.

Val comes up behind you and turns you around to face him. “They are gone, you can let go.” You clench your fists tightly, your breath grows more inconsistent. You look down when you feel a tear fall down your cheek. Val puts his hand on your shoulder, he doesn’t know what else to do. You didn't make a sound, you were never a loud crier as a kid, you never felt like you had the right to be. You look up, your face holds no frown or smile, it barely even holds a readable expression. You and Val stand there as your tears fall, you make no attempt to stop them. no loud sobs, nor words of panic, just a silent exchange of understanding between you and him.

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[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  

A senseless daydream.  

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  

Whatever you wanted. 

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.  

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  

Several.

He thought to himself.  

You could have gone to school, shown up.  

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed.  And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  

“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  

The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  

Be careful what you wish for.  

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  

Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.  

“Eddie?!”  

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.”  You soothe. 

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  

“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  

“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage.  In his eyes.

“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.”  You demand.

“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”  

It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  

“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.” 

“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  

“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  

“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.

“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  

“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  

“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.”  You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  

“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  

“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  

“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  

“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  

“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  

It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”  

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”  

Eddie just stared. 

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.”  You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  

And he was blushing. 

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 

“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

[koiiiiijiii]

being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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#[ ~ koi.talks🗣] #lookism #lookism imagines #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism thoughts #jake kim #samuel seo #jake kim x reader #jake kim x reader x samuel seo #samuel seo headcanons #lookism samuel #lookism jake #samuel seo x reader

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 1

masterlist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost and his dog Riley regularly patrol the city. A man has his own routine, every day, for almost 2 years, has to look the same. The man knows that he cannot change his behavior because deep down he still feels that someone will answer his radio signal. He doesn't lose hope. However, exactly 730 days after "Day Zero", no one shows up at the transmitter mast. Just when you finally get there. You've been trying to get here for weeks, seeing a tower in the distance. You needed electricity, and the tower had a source of light every night. And so each of you, individually, still thinks that you are the only one alive.

Chapter 1: The First One

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Day 729

Ghost & Riley

5:43 a.m., the black Gamin watch on the man's right hand started ringing. In exactly 25 minutes, the sun will rise and Ghost will be able to leave the safety of his home and begin his daily routine.

This morning is definitely warmer than the previous ones. Getting out of bed, the man decides that in the evening he will cover some of the solar panels, so that excess energy for heating will no longer be needed. He preferred to keep some panels unused in case others failed. He couldn't find any more panels in the city, so unfortunately he had to settle for the few he found in recent months.

Riley ran to the man's leg, growling quietly, he had been extremely excited since the morning.

“What's up Riley?” Ghost stroked the dog behind the ear and spoke softly to him.

This dog had been the only living thing he could talk to for almost two years. It was actually a monologue, but Ghost knew that his beloved dog understood him and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other perfectly.

The man also knew that he had to try to remain civilized, speaking, listening and behaving as he had before Day Zero. After years in the army, he remembered what soldiers released after years of captivity looked like. Who were locked in isolation for long months in small, dark cells. They were quickly losing their minds.

And he had to remain human. Despite everything.

Every day, after getting up and taking a quick bathroom break, Ghost would do some exercises to wake up. And be in good shape all the time. Unfortunately, his supplies of black tea were slowly running out and surprisingly there were few tea lovers in this damn city. He never drank coffee, so physical activity had to be enough for him to overcome sleepiness.

Once he put on his old military clothes and took his gun from the safe, he headed to the kitchen, taking a few military biscuits that he used to eat during his morning routine.

"Riley come on, it's time for patrol" the dog wagged his tail and ran to his master, waiting for Ghost to put a tactical harnesses and leash on him.

On his way out, Ghost checked the surveillance cameras he had installed around the house. The area looked like any other day. Intact. For a split second he felt disappointed, he was under the illusion that he was not the only one alive in this world.

Getting into the black Ford Ranger pickup truck, he checked the gas level in the canisters in the back and the air in the tires. Everything was in order. When Riley jumped on the back trunk and Ghost checked if the dog was safe, he got into the car and slowly drove away, looking around the surrounding area. Today he was going to the eastern part of the city, there were a few houses on the outskirts that he didn't check. As the days were getting longer, he could afford to travel further and plunder new abandoned houses.

When he reached one of his checkpoints, Riley on the trunk started barking and wanted to jump down to the ground. The man, concerned about the dog's behavior, quickly stopped at one of the dead ends. The dog barked and wagged his tail, staring as if in a trance, his attention focused towards the west.

“Riley calm down, Riley!”

Ghost quickly jumped onto the trunk and grabbed the dog by the collar, trying to calm animal down and direct its attention to himself. The dog barked louder and louder and suddenly growled in a way he had never heard before. Ghost froze, he had never seen such aggression from his dog before.

“Riley, sit down. Riley!”

man's voice trembled with growing fear, despite this he tried to pronounce the commands in a loud and decisive tone. Ghost was afraid that the dog might have gotten sick, maybe he had been bitten by some sick animal during one of the patrols in a new area and the wound was so small that Ghost he missed it. Even though he checked Riley every day after every patrol. He couldn't lose his only family member. Only friend.

Suddenly the dog calms down. He sat on his hind legs and, panting slightly, looked at his owner with peace in his eyes

“Bloody hell Riley, what the fuck was that?”

Ghost shook his head disapprovingly, looking up at the dog, patting it on the belly and stroking it for a while. After making sure that the dog had calmed down, the man returned to the car and drove again, glancing at the dog in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Fortunately, the rest of the journey passed peacefully, without any strange incidents.

Ghost drove in silence with the car windows open, looking around the suburbs. The eastern part of the city was mainly inhabited by elites, wealthier people from the upper classes.

Was.

Ghost, remembering his old life, felt that he didn't miss it. Money, power, fame. He never aspired to it and didn't need it, but in connection with his work he often had contact with rich people and it was difficult for him to come to terms with them. He could never get along with them. So now, after so many days since Day Zero, looking at the empty large villas, he smiled to himself. People had so much in the past, they were concerned with getting rich, making more and more money. And what did they need it for? Now they were all dead. And large houses and expensive cars stood empty, deteriorating under the influence of the seasons.

When the former soldier reached the house he had last checked, he parked close to a large tree so that the car was hidden in the shade. He opened the trunk lid for Riley to jump down and search the front and back of the house first. Nothing really bad ever happened, no evil awaited them during the day.

But Ghost wanted his four-legged friend to feel important and appreciated. If only his life would be no different from the one before Day Zero. Even though the man was not sure whether the dog had previously served in the army, from the first day they met the man checked and was happy to find that Riley was well trained. Its previous owner must have taken care of it. Ghost was very grateful to this person.

Whoever that person was.

When the dog returned happily wagging his tail and meekly stood next to the man's right leg, it was a signal that the area was checked and safe. Ghost took a bag of raw meat from his tactical vest pocket and gave a piece of it to the dog as a reward

“Good boy” as he said this he patted the dog affectionately on the head and added

“Watch the door Riley, I'll be right back.”

Ghost easily entered the white house, which was small compared to other houses in the area. Knowing that the owners would not come back to it anyway, he simply broke the glass in the door and turned the lock from the inside.

It took him less than 10 minutes to search the house, and as he thought, unfortunately for him, he found nothing important. It was one of those houses where wealthy owners come for a few days a year when they had to do something in the city. Ghost found some bandages, batteries, two cans of beans and a package of pasta. He packed everything into a backpack and took a large pillow from the couch.

Something for Riley.

Leaving the villa, he looked around the area, the sun was shining more and more strongly and Ghost basked in the sun for a few seconds, closing his eyes for a moment. Waiting for Riley to run up to him. However, none of this happened.

"Riley, come on..."

Ghost said calmly, patting his thigh to encourage the dog to come to him.

Silence. No movement.

“Oh, come on boy, I've got something for you..” the soldier opened his eyes and stepped off the porch, looking around the front lawn.

For the first time in over 700 days, Ghost felt panic rising.

Riley was nowhere to be found.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Day 730

You

The next day of walking was so tiring that you took each step slowly with a grimace on your face. Your feet are so injured that your white Converse shoes are not only dirty with dust and brown soil, but also have red stains on them.

You don't have the strength to walk anymore. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, straightening the old t-shirt that serves as a makeshift head cover. The days are getting hotter and the journey during the day is torture.

“Maybe I'll finally lose weight”

you mutter under your breath, standing in the shadow for a moment. The large billboard that stands in the western part of the city is slightly damaged. The advertisement for the movie, which premiered over two years ago, is slightly faded and torn.

You fan your face with your hand, hoping it will bring you some relief.

Even though almost two years have passed since Day Zero, you have not lost the excess weight, and walking in full sun was a real horror for you. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you take out a half-full bottle of water and take a few sips. Even the water in the bottle is warm.

You sigh and look around. Nevertheless, despite all the horror that took place so many days ago, the outskirts of this city do not look damaged or well-kept. Even in your previous life - as you call it - you had never been to this area. Maybe it would be worth looking around a bit, maybe you will find a working car. Or at least a bicycle.

The tingling and stinging in your feet constantly reminded you how hurt and bloody your feet were. But you had to get to the transmission tower. You had seen it for so many days and you knew there was electricity there. Even on a rainy night, the lights from the tower were visible from many miles away. You were hoping that you would be able to charge the electronics you collected two years ago and maybe you would finally hear a human voice. Some signal of life.

You couldn't be the only survivor on this earth.

After a moment of rest, you moved further west, the sun was shining stronger and higher. It must have been close to twelve o'clock. You wanted to reach the tower before sunset, hoping that apart from metal bars and many cables, there would be a technical building where you could spend the night and charge your equipment.

Life before Day Zero was kind and happy for you. However, after that day it was a fight for survival. You were suddenly alone, without family or friends. You were on your own for the first time in your life. And you weren't the survival type. You lived comfortably all your life and could count on family members. Walking towards the mast, you had time for further thoughts. After all, what else are you left with? You haven't seen a human in 2 years.

Alive, to be more precise.

You were having conversations in your head, speaking quietly to yourself every few days as if you were afraid that your vocal cords would grow together or that you would simply forget what it's like to be human. The silence of the desolate world scared you at first, sleepless nights and fear during the day accompanied you in the first year. It was only when you found a bigger city and nice, undamaged houses and moved into one of them, collecting found food and useful items, that you finally started to calm down and sleep through the nights.

However, when the batteries in the device ran out, the water in the tap stopped flowing, and the winter at home became so cold that you might as well have slept outside, because the temperature difference was practically negligible, you decided to head west.

One night, when a snowstorm and strong wind opened one window in the attic and you went to close it at least temporarily and secure it to prevent snow from entering the house, you noticed a flashing light on the horizon in the distance.

At first you thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe you didn't eat enough or ate some spoiled food and your eyesight is playing tricks on you. But as you stood there and looked out the open window. To the west, a small light kept flickering in the distance. And the next day and the next. And finally the next week too.

When more than a month had passed and the weather had finally normalized, you decided to pack the most necessary items and go in that direction.

It had to be some kind of sign.

Some miracle.

During those nights when you were waiting for the weather to allow you to travel on foot, you imagined many scenarios. You felt excited and happy. Hope. Maybe you weren't the only living person in this world, maybe there were other people that close. This thought kept you alive.

Thanks to this thought, after so many days of traveling with injured legs, you were finally close to your destination. You had to get there and see with your own eyes that you weren't crazy after all and that the red and white tower was a signpost that someone maintained to let you know that he was also here, that he was alive.

When you finally reached the fence, you didn't even notice that your emotions and tiredness had won and tears were rolling down your cheeks.

You were so very happy. So close to the goal.

The gate to the tower was padlocked.

“Fuck!”

you screamed, struggling against the metal fence. You stood there sobbing, not knowing how to get to the other side. It was impossible to climb the fence. Firstly, it was too high, secondly, there was barbed wire at the top and thirdly, you physically couldn't do it. You were too fat to pull your body up over the fence.

When you finally calmed down and wiped your tears, you walked away from the fence and noticed that next to one of the fence posts there was a piece of paper attached with a red material.

You froze.

You quickly pulled a piece of paper from behind the ribbon and unwrapped the paper with trembling hands:

“If anyone is reading this, it means I'm not alone here. You survived just like me.

My name is Ghost.

I have shelter, food and other necessary items to survive. If you are looking for help, wait here. I come to the towers every day, every day of the year. Right at noon and I've been waiting for an hour..."

You quickly looked at your watch and froze… 12:23…. No, it's impossible, you've been here for a long time, you must have seen someone, you wanted to cry again. It can't be true that the only living thing, ironically calling itself Ghost, didn't show up today. Just when you came here. Maybe you missed each other? Maybe you were here for a few minutes after all. There was hope. You were supposed to spend the night here anyway, so if by some miracle you two missed each other, there was a chance to meet the owner of this letter tomorrow.

You looked at the piece of paper again:

“...and I've been waiting for an hour.

However, if you have no good intentions and are counting on your own survival, I have to worry you. In my previous life I killed more people than you can count, now, apart from things to survive, I have a weapon with me and I know how to use it quickly.

Wait here, and until I appear, don't be afraid, because you will hear and see my dog…Riley.”

With your heart beating strongly, you finished reading the letter.

Your mind didn't even have time to fully read the content of the letter when a large German shepherd ran out from the west wing of the fence, barking loudly.

This couldn't be true.

When you turned towards the dog, you froze.

“Oh my God…Riley…boy”

It was your dog. Who disappeared on Day Zero.

And now, after 730 days, he was running towards you.

Your beloved dog has been found.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au

[conkers-thecosy]

Five Fic Feedback!

Tagged by: No one! Seen this floating about a few fandoms, and decided to bring it over to bagginshield!

Rules: Pick five fics you've written, then tell us about how you feel about it vs how readers have received it!

1 - Bad Blood

My Thoughts: This one is way bigger than I meant it to be! It was going to be about 5k words and the only scene I had in my head was Bilbo biting the elven guard, haha! Readers: People really seem to love this one! I feel like feral Bilbo is always a crowd-pleaser, and this fic got much more attention than I ever expected it to! - 2 - Soldier My Thoughts: I'm really proud of this one. It was my first bagginshield fic, and it was after a loooong break from writing. Even though it's a bit weak in places, I have such a soft spot for it. Readers: I ended up re-posting this one after some harassment kicked my confidence down the toilet, but since then the reception has been very positive! - 3 - Poet My Thoughts: I'm sorry to say it, but this is probably my least favourite fic I've written. If it wasn't so popular I'd have removed it and altered the end of Soldier so it was just one fic! Readers: This fic seems to be very popular, and was the first time someone made art of my work - and more than once! I remember posting the first chapter and not expecting very much, only to come onto tumblr and see random posts where folks were super excited to see it was updating! It was such a lovely feeling! - 4 - My Ego Dies My Thoughts: I genuinely love this one, I think it's probably my personal favourite. I really enjoy playing about with the idea of "forgiveness" between Bilbo and Thorin, and this fic really scratched a particular itch for me! Readers: Probably my least popular fic - statistically, at least! I've found most folk weren't into it for one reason or another, but the people who love it, really, really love it! -

5 - Stealing Moments, Moments Away My Thoughts: I wish I'd taken more time with this one in some ways, but in others it really is the reshirement fic I wanted to tell. Again, I got to tinker with that "forgiveness" trope, and have a good look at what survival might realistically have meant for Thorin. Readers: This one is a quick read, and it's soft and fluffy, so I think readers enjoy it for that reason, though I believe some found it a bit boring. It was being updated almost daily, and the folks who were invested came back to comment and read practically every time I updated, which was just amazing to me! - 6 - Backs To The Wall (Sorry, I've written six, so I wanted to do all of them!) My Thoughts: I wrote this because it was something I wanted to read, and couldn't find. It's been amazingly fun, and I told myself when I started (knowing it was going to be fairly long - even if I didn't realise quite how long at the time, haha) that I wasn't going to take it too seriously, and I was really only writing this for myself, as the most self-indulgent kind of nonsense, ever! Readers: I can't begin to tell you how utterly blown away by the response to this I've been. Like?? It's just crazy to me how much folks are enjoying this, how excited and supportive everyone has been! I've been so grateful for everyone reading, and genuinely shocked down to my bones, haha! 💛 - No pressure tags for: @fantasyinallforms @lucigoo @lordoftherazzles @domesticgoddesswriter @thatfancygirlinwhite @lauramkaye @sass-y-squatch @mintedwitcher (and honestly anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, *waves a wand* you are Tagged!)

#tag game #bagginshield #bagginshield fic #thilbo #thilbo fic #fic writer #fic game #fandom #fandom game #conkers corner #bad blood #soldier poet king series #my ego dies #stealing moments moments away #SMMA #backs to the wall #BTTW #conkers-thecosy

[sageistrii]

I am not gonna lie- I find it a tad bit funny that people get upset when Jimin tops reputation indexes. Like the Forbes 40 powerful celebrities list. People are mad he’s the highest kpop soloist. They are foaming, and KTHs are just confused. They NEVER learn. He’s unarguably the one with the biggest brand value and name recognition from the group, it’s been that way since 10 years now. Why are you torturing yourself? Also those ones claiming “he isn’t even relevant”. He IS relevant because of you, coz y’all can’t keep his name out of your mouth. Be it about beauty, talent, dance, vocal, stage presence, ass size, lip size, the chick emoji, y’all compare him to everyone, men women alike. Then why be upset when he’s the highest in presence. Any way we move!

Also Jimin has one of the biggest solo fanbases in Korea, he rivals IU and lim young woong. It's not about which member has gotten paks, a number one on melon or the most Instagram likes and followers. Jimin IS the most popular idol in SK, just because seven reached number 1 on melon and like crazy didn't, means nothing when we all know what went down.

And if you actually look at it like crazy still is the most successful SOLO song to come out of chapter 2 it peaked at no 3 on melon, with almost a peak of 200k 24h unique listeners. Because notice how they only hold on to seven but ignore 3d and snty? Set me free pt2 had no longevity but It still reached top 15 on melon top 100 and reached a peak of 100k+ 24h unique listeners, vibe was also a hit on kcharts.

The fact that he managed to do this well on kcharts and consistently chart on melon despite years of being isolated from the Korean GP and with everything that happened during his debut is a huge feat. All he needs is the right song/right timing and the korean gp will fully get into his music. But even right now he's still the idol with the largest fanbase in SK.

Anyone can get a number 1 on melon these days if you're lucky, it doesn't necessarily mean you're that popular in Korea. If the Spotify SK charts wasn't enough indication...

They flexed those "industry insider" rankings all of 2023, rankings from no reputable source mind you or were sponsored by Hybe. And no one cared because we were well aware of the huge campaign that was going on at the time. But now it's 2024 all the members have enlisted and Jimin is still the only one who's managed to hang on to the top 10 of brand reputation.

Last year I prayed Jimin's debut will be one for the books, but this year I want him to take it further, especially with kcharts. Like crazy did good but I am hoping for something bigger than that this year 🙏🏾 because that's the only reason why they still doubt how popular he is in SK.

Also kths should never try to include themselves in discussions about SK popularity, he's never been one of the most popular idols there. His dating scandal with Jennie was the most attention he ever got there.

[lizablee]

Done Enough (Critical Role Fanfic) Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, Ashton wished his weapon had a blade.

The fleeting satisfaction of reducing branches to splinters had worn thin, leaving behind only the sturdiest trunks and the most resilient saplings that bounced off his hammer as if mocking his fury. His rage boiled beneath the surface.

With a shout filled with desperation and anger, he leveraged his full strength against a nearby tree. The tree shuddered under the impact but stood firm, immovable and indifferent. Ashton’s shoulders heaved, sweat trickling down his stony exterior,

“That’s an ironwood. Your hammer’s as good as useless.”

Chetney's voice cut through the tension, oddly calm amid the destruction. He stood a few feet away, idly whittling away at one of the half-pulped branches Ashton had discarded.

Ashton panted, his breaths coming in heavy, labored gasps. “Can’t sleep?” he managed to say between breaths.

“Not when there’s so much good wood being wasted. It was calling to me,” Chetney said wistfully. The branch in his hand was starting to vaguely humanoid. “And you’re loud as hell. I’m surprised half the camp isn’t awake.”

Ashton didn’t have it in him to feel regret. Chetney continued.

“I wonder what FCG would say if they were here,” he remarked.

“They chose to kill themself. They don’t get a say in how we grieve.”  Ashton replied sharply.

“That’s not fair, Ashton.” Chetney said coldly. “They saved our lives.” Ashton tasted a pinch of shame, and tried to wash it down with anger.

Chetney sighed deeply and took a seat among the roots of the ironwood, his whittling becoming almost unnaturally quick. “You get to be angry, that’s fine. But don’t poison their memory. The rest of us have to grieve too.”

Ashton’s knees felt weak. He sat down, resting his hammer over his lap, and breathed deeply.

“If FCG were here,” he said tiredly, “they’d say something about us all coming together and supporting each other as a team. And they’d probably say they were happy. I bet they were happy, at the end. They got to do what they’ve always wanted to do.”

Chetney tutted. “Very edgy, Ashton. You act like they did this to you and not for you. Listen, I’m made of stronger stuff than the others, and even I’m feeling a bit fucked up by this. So I get it. But keep that bitterness between us, okay? Or between you and the hardwood.” he added, patting the scarred trunk of the tree. “The others aren’t doing very well. We need to keep an eye on Orym. He’s getting pretty dark.”

Ashton leveled a long look at Chetney. The gnome looked weary but resolute. “How are you doing?” Ashton asked gruffly.

Chetney smiled wryly. “I feel old. And I don’t normally feel old. It’s just... it’s tough when someone so young loses their life. Imagine how long FCG could have gone on for. They might have been practically immortal with that body, we don’t know. They could have outlived all of us.”

“They were hundreds of years old.”

“Maybe in body. But they’d been alive, what, like three years?”

“Give or take.”

“Three years old... That’s truly tragic. They never even got to have a childhood.” For a moment, Chetney had a hollow look that made him seem every bit as old as he claimed to be.

“They made me this horrible toolbox when they tried to—” Chetney made a sawblade motion, “—carve me up that first time. The craftsmanship was just appalling. You know what that looked like to me?”

“A waste of wood?”

“No. Potential . Nowhere to go but up.” Chetney looked up to the stars, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and sorrow. “They had only just figured out they could live, hadn’t even worked out what that meant yet. It just sucks.”

Ashton let the words wash over him and sank a little deeper into himself.

“Try not to think about it.” A soft voice sounded from the treeline. Orym dropped down, quiet as a shadow, wandering into the newly made clearing. “Their potential… what they could have been. It’ll drive you crazy.”

Chetney sighed deeply and returned to his whittling. Ashton turned to see Orym, who looked smaller than usual, haunted. His eyes were red, his cheeks puffy, and it was almost too raw for Ashton to bear; he suddenly felt like he was intruding just by being there. If FCG were here, he’d offer a hug.

“Are you okay?” he said, as gently as he could. Orym scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Right now, no. Eventually, yes…” Orym’s voice trembled. “But it doesn’t feel like it yet.” He took a shaky breath. “I know how this goes. So I just need to remember that it won’t feel like this forever. It’s hard to imagine... It’s just hard to... It’s hard.”

Ashton felt tears welling for the second time that evening. He scrambled mentally for that anger, that blessed distracting rage that could hold them at bay. Something else came to mind, unbidden, and he latched onto it. He moved towards Orym and pulled the halfling into a gentle hug.

Pain rippled through his form as Orym hugged back, sobbing. The hug was nice; the pain was grounding. Everything else dimmed a little for a moment. He could see FCG behind his closed eyelids, and for the first time that evening, he felt that the little Aeormaton would be proud of him in this moment.

Orym released Ashton earlier than he expected, probably not wanting to cause more pain. The absence of that sensation felt almost lonely. Orym sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

“You need to sleep.” Chetney remarked gently. “You both need to sleep. I’ll take watch.”

Orym stilled, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Back to back?” he stammered suddenly. Ashton stared at him blankly. “Sorry, it’s just something I saw—something Dorian—listen, do you want to sleep back to back? I think I’ll just sleep better if I’m not alone. It might help you, too?”

“Back to back,” Ashton echoed tentatively. “Yeah, I can do that. Just not too close.”

“Got it,” Orym said gratefully. He moved to pack up his bedroll.

“Enjoy your sleepover,” Chetney remarked offhandedly, returning to his whittling. He was gently carving a pair of mismatched lenses onto a tiny smooth face. Ashton let his eyes linger on the carving a moment longer before following Orym to camp.

It turned out going back to back did make it easier to sleep. And to Ashton’s great relief, he didn’t dream.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #cr3 #cr fcg #fcg #cr ashton #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #orym #cr orym #chetney pock o'pea #cr chetney

[flowersdiceandlove]

Last night I wasn’t feeling good, so my mom—my wonderful, amazing mom who I love and am so lucky to have—offered to read some of Heaven Official’s Blessing to me. I’d just finished book 6 and hadn’t started 7, so she read the first chapter of book 7 to me. She has fun doing it. She reread about the first half of book 1 and a chapter here and there in the others volumes in the past, so this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. She’s unused to the Chinese names, and so I have to remind her who the characters are. Here is an incomplete list of how I remind her of the characters.

Xie Lian = the main character (luckily she knows this one by now)

Hua Cheng = the love interest (she got him mixed up with mu qing last night for some reason. Normally I don’t have to remind her)

Mu Qing = the sarcastic/condescending one

Feng Xin = the angry one

Pei Ming = he’s flirtatious (and with only that two word explanation of him, she read his line perfectly. Exactly how I imagined it)

When Fu Yao and Nan Feng were in it, I used Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s explanations respectively.

She messes up the pronunciation, but has finally remembered (at least most of the time) that “x” makes a “sh” sound and “q” a “tch” sound. She also has endless trouble with the gege = guh guh wanting to pronounce it jee jee. She also often says Xian Lian instead of Xie Lian and just can’t quite get Hua Cheng right. She really is trying though.

Also, also when it was revealed what the “giant” in the Kiln was, she was so shocked and her expression alone caused me to laugh for several minutes.

And, before you ask, yes, she likes HuaLian.

Two more things. 1) she absolutely loves the tremendous masculinity/Ju Yang euphemism, and it has become something I bring up to make her laugh. 2) she always forgets the word “fuck” is used in the books. Every. Single. Time. No matter how many times she reads it.

This post has not been intended as a roast to my mom. She’s amazing , and I love it when she reads this to me. It’s a little way we can spend time together and she can enjoy my interests with me. If anything this is me bragging about her awesomeness, sprinkled with comedy. Anyway, wish my mom luck on learning those Chinese names. They really are hard for her to learn. 😬🫤

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #feng xin #mu qing #pei ming #reading tgcf

[rayshippouuchiha]

Here to beg my fellow Voidlings to read Dungeon Reset. There's 3 seasons (total 193 chapters) so far and it's something I binge read because it's so good. It's got such an interesting story! Yeah, it isn't really fast paced as you would expect generally from this type of story/genre, but the pacing makes sense and the combat scenes that do exist are amazing.

Basic premise: Our MC Dawoon (using the spelling in the webcomic here) gets teleported into a Dungeon Game. He's not the only one though, there's in fact a massive crowd of people there with him. The 'game assistant' tells them they need to clear the game in order to go home. We immediately get a taste of how dark and deadly this experience will be when the Game assistant kicked off someone's head for being rowdy. (This is genuinely in the first chapter, no spoilers here)

Upon their entrance everyone is granted a Special Ability by the game. What they do is different for each person, and they aren't all combat related. A Special Ability is one that has 3 tiers of leveling and each tier unlocks new functions, each tier also has 10 levels each (normal abilities/skills don't have tiers but do have 10 levels) which can improve the use of that Ability (eg. Skill gives a 2x multiplier as a base, level 2 gives a 2.5x multiplier and decreased cool down). A normal Ability can be earned by getting an Achievement, which isn't easy and typically not something people earn (eg chop 10,000 trees to get the Achievement)

Our MC does not have a combat Special Ability.

Those in the Dungeon divide themselves between Fighters and Crafters. Fighters being those with Special Abilities predisposed towards combat (fire, lighting, archery, spearmanship etc). While Crafters are those whose Special Abilities aren't suited to combat, but are needed/used by the Fighters for continued survival in the Dungeon (herb identification, purification, etc). Crafters are called that regardless of what their actual skill is because the Fighters have them crafting everything. They are responsible for butchering the monsters, handling the meals, making basic tools like torches, things of that nature.

There is a very high death rate for people in the Dungeon. We see in the first chapter how that massive crowd of people who started out, dwindled to less than 10, rather quickly in fact.

As the story progresses we learn more about the Dungeon Game, why it's happening, how it came about, what's going on with the world it's set in, etc. And all of that information is insanely interesting and given in such a way that is gradual and feels almost natural.

The set-up would lead you to believe the MC does some Duex ex machina type of thing, but even though he becomes good with his Ability it's only possible because he is honestly out of his damn mind. Also, there's many instances where the success of a battle is only possible with help from others.

I saw someone else describe the story as having elements of Dungeon Meshi and of Solo Leveling. Can't speak on the Solo Leveling aspect, but our MC is very much eating/cooking the most questionable things and is receiving a lot of side eyes from others about it.

!!!!!!

#RayRambles #Webtoon Rec #comic rec

[mai-irumi]

Chapter 2 appreciation post

I swear I'm not planning on doing this with all chapters (maybe I will) bit I can't help it if EVERYTHING IS THAT GOOD

I just love how here we can see that Iruma, even being the Pusillanimous boy that he is, he's totally conscient of the bizarre situation he is in

Yet can't dare to say no

I mean, I bet this is the most loved he's ever been, and it's not good love, as much as I love Sullivan for giving all those opportunities, he is not a good parent, he only got Iruma out of a whim and didn't really care that much for hoe he felt, at least at the early episodes.

Once again, Asmodeus blinding us all with his pretty face and already obsessive behavior to Iruma, but who would be Asmodeus without obsession?

THEY HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE HIM LOOK THIS FINE WHILE BEING MAD

Like GODS, now I get y'all Naberius' fans, the anime did not do any justice TO THIS

I wouldn't mind being scolded by him (Lie, I'd burst into tears of pure fear)

Okay, but is it me or the snake is cute?

Like look at those googly eyes that look like they may just pop out of the skull at any moment, makes me wanna squish it

Also we can see here very clearly that Asmodeus type of body is pear shaped 🍐, in case anyone had curiosity

Sweethearts, if you two only knew you wanted the same, you wouldn't have gone through all of that.

Like let's be honest both of you wanted Iruma out of the school, easy job

I LOOOVE how Iruma resembles Sullivan even without being related to him, like that's so cute, family soulmates maybe?

Now, I don't remember well, but I do know that in the present on the manga has already been a year, but I do think Kalego is still his familiar, correct me if I'm wrong

ALSO I was thinking about, and all of this boys are 14, like dude, I'm older than them (was younger when I first saw the series, I suddenly feel old 😭) THERE'S NO REASON TO MAKE THEM GO THROUGH ALL OF THAT

Have you guys ever seen those jobs where they ask for young people with plus 10 years of experience? They want Iruma, that's what they've been looking for, too sad he's in hell

<-_->

#Does Sullivan have a tag?? #welcome to demon school iruma kun #iruma suzuki #mairimashita! iruma kun #mai irumi #asmodeus alice #naberius kalego #m!ik #mairimashita iruma kun #mairuma #iruma kun

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Thoughts on the Batch's Ending

Ooookay. This is going to be a long one. (Little note from Steph who just finished writing this: it’s nearly 3000 words…)

Tagging @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings and @eriexplosion because I value their thoughts (but I'm also not demanding that you read 3000 words of waffle)

I’ve had a lot of thoughts about the finale of The Bad Batch and honestly, my mind is a bit of a mess right now. One of the things I just want to try and tackle is how I feel about the ending of each Batch member individually, because while I can look at it and say “The Batch got a happy ending!”, I feel like that doesn’t really give me much of an idea of whether or not each character got an ending that I feel is fitting for their story arc.

So, this post is basically just going to be me unpicking the ending for each of the Batchers and working out how I feel about it (aka me trying to unscramble the mass load of thoughts going on in my head right now). 

Omega

Overall, I’m very happy with where Omega ended up. When you look back on how she was when we first met her, you realise just how much she has grown over the last few seasons. She didn’t just learn to be a part of the squad, she also learned how to look after herself. It isn’t just a development of her skillset, it’s also a growth in maturity, which allows her to have a clearer head and more rational decisions in the field. While Omega trusted her brothers to come and rescue her, she didn’t just sit around and wait for them, she hatched her own plan to not only get her and the other children out, but also help the Batch when they arrive at Tantiss.

Like Echo, she strongly believes in helping people and I love that that has carried through into her ending. While it would have been nice for her to live a quiet life, free of any more troubles, it makes complete sense for her to want to join the Rebellion. And I think it was at a good time as well. Omega got to spend the rest of her childhood being raised in a more peaceful, safe environment, before making the decision a few years down the line to go her own way. This is her leaving the nest and I think it was tackled incredibly well. You can see how she has taken on attributes from all of her brothers, and judging by her style choice, Phee as well. We see Omega using the support of her brothers to carve her own path and I love that.

Personally, I can’t really see a more fitting development in her story than this. And I’m reluctant to actually call it an ending because for her, this feels more like the beginning of a new chapter. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if we saw her again later down the road.

Hunter

Now those who follow me may be aware that Hunter was never my favourite member of the Batch. I didn’t dislike him, but I never really connected with him in the same way that I connected with all of the other characters. Saying that, it doesn’t mean I haven’t given a lot of thought to him and his character.

Hunter always had a lot on his shoulders. He was the leader of the Batch and that meant keeping a rag-tag group of defective clones in line, but it also left him with the belief that if anything were to happen to his squad, it would be his responsibility. So, with Crosshair and Omega stuck with the Empire, and Tech dead, Hunter had a lot to carry. At the beginning of Season 3 we saw that he had become more reckless and irrational, not really thinking about plans and wanting to jump straight into things. It was Wrecker who had to step in and make sure Hunter didn’t do anything stupid. Hunter felt like he lost control and that took a lot out of him, especially since this is something I think he could feel creeping up on him throughout Season 2, even if he tried to fight it. The Batch had started to make decisions without him, and Omega was forming close attachments to other people, which was digging a knife into Hunter’s fear of losing his squad. So S3 saw him trying everything he could to reunite the Batch, because he couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

And he achieved that. But what I also deeply appreciate is that we see Hunter accepting that Omega wants to go her own way. This was something he didn’t want happening for a long time, but once he accepted that she was capable of looking after herself, and once he accepted that he could never keep her tied in place forever, he supported Omega in her decision to join the Rebellion. Yes, he will always worry about her. He even tells her that she will always be their kid. But he knows that it’s time for her to carve her own path, and that means for him, finally letting go and accepting that Clone Force 99 will never be what it once was. 

Wrecker

Wrecker is an interesting one for me because he’s one of the few characters where I can’t really see a big step for his character in the final episode. For many of the others there is some form of acceptance, or big step in their lives, but for Wrecker I don’t really see that. And unfortunately, I think that comes from Wrecker never really being the focus of any strong character development throughout the history of the show. That’s not to say there wasn’t any growth at all, but when we look at how far everyone else has come in their stories, Wrecker always feels like he never got the same treatment in this show. The biggest growth I saw was when he stepped in to help Hunter when he could see the sergeant was spiralling.

So, while I’m happy he lived and has gone on to enjoy a longer, more peaceful life than we ever expected for the Batch, it makes me sad that we never really saw anything big for Wrecker in this ending. No big acceptance, no huge sacrifice. We don’t even get to see him say goodbye to Omega when she leaves. I love that Wrecker got a happy ending, but I always wish that we had gotten the opportunity to see more of a character arc with him over the course of the entire show.

Crosshair

I accepted a while ago that if any of the Batch members were to survive, Crosshair would be one of them because I didn’t expect the writers to kill him off after everything that he had been through. And thankfully they didn’t! I love that after everything, Crosshair has managed to find peace. Maybe not completely, but enough that he has the chance to live a life that doesn’t involve him being a soldier. 

Throughout S2 and S3 we saw Crosshair come to terms with the fact that he was disposable to the Empire and that they didn’t care about him as much as he had made himself believe. And one of the things Crosshair fought with the most was his own identity as a soldier. For so long, he believed that that was all he was, all he could be, so that’s why it has been so amazing finally seeing Crosshair acknowledge that he doesn’t need to be a soldier to still live a life he deserves; his purpose is and always has been more than that.

Saying that, I want to address the hand thing because I am still unsure of where I sit with it. Following his escape from Tantiss, we see Crosshair has developed hand tremors as a result of his PTSD, and a decent chunk of the season has been dedicated to him learning how to live with them. The biggest reason for this affecting Crosshair so much was that it impacted his ability to be a sniper, which is what Crosshair believed to be his main purpose: he didn’t know what to do without the ability to use his hand. And we were given some incredibly sweet scenes between him and Omega as she helped him work out the best way to manage the tremors, for example, them meditating together.

But then that brings me onto my main issue, which is, why remove the hand? One of the reasons I keep seeing is that it removes Crosshair’s ability to be a sniper, but we had already seen that. That’s the issue that the tremors were causing. Crosshair had already been struggling with that ability as a result of what happened to him on Tantiss, so cutting his hand off as a way of preventing his sniping ability seems a bit unnecessary. Now admittedly, the soldier who cut his hand off didn’t know that he had hand tremors, so logistically it makes sense, but as a story tool it seems a bit bizarre to me. Personally, I think it would’ve been more interesting to pursue the idea of Crosshair learning to manage his tremors through meditation etc. and adapting to a life that has less of a focus on sniping. 

Another reason I have seen for the hand is that it symbolises Crosshair finally becoming free from the Empire and what they did to him on Tantiss. Him no longer having the tremors indicates that he is no longer burdened by the Empire and his time there. But that doesn’t really work for me either. For one, Crosshair will never truly be separated from what happened to him there; even if he lost the shaking, he would still have a number of psychological issues as a result of what he went though, so I can’t see it as a way of symbolising a true separation. Which is once again why I think that following the story beat of him managing the tremors would have been a more interesting path for them to go down with his character.

Saying that, I’m still happy with where Crosshair’s story went. He is arguably the most complex character in the Batch and I’m so glad we have been able to see him develop the way he has. Him living a long, quiet life is something that I’m happy he has gotten, and I truly don’t think that him dying would have brought nearly as satisfying a conclusion as Crosshair finally finding a new place in the world.

Tech

Oh boy… this is going to be an interesting chunk of this essay. So errm… it turns out Tech is actually dead, which is… kinda shit. 

Back when we saw him fall at the end of S2, I said that one of the reasons that I didn’t believe that Tech was really dead was because if he was, I would’ve found the writing kinda cheap. I said repeatedly throughout that season that I didn’t want all of his character development to simply be an emotional manipulation tactic to make us even more sad when he died… which is what it turned out to be. It doesn’t surprise me that Tech sacrificed himself, but it makes me mad that ultimately his death never really had any real impact on anything. I mean, they hardly even addressed it in the final season!

I get that animated Star Wars is known for rarely addressing characters after their deaths, but The Clone Wars focuses on so many characters that if we gave that much attention to every character that died, then we would never progress the plot. However, unlike TCW, The Bad Batch primarily focuses on a smaller group of clones and therefore not only has the space to explore the impacts that death would have on the squad, but really should find it a necessary part of the storytelling. The lack of attention given to Tech throughout this season has been beyond frustrating to me. He deserved better.

And I can’t write a section about Tech’s ending without addressing the CX-2 situation. Were we all delusional for believing that Tech was alive? No. Now before people come at me for saying that, I want to explain why that is the conclusion I have come to. You would have every right to label us delusional if there was absolutely no proof behind the claims that we made, but when the writers give us a character that both speaks and acts like Tech, what did they expect us to think? There were too many parallels between Tech and CX-2 for it to be coincidental and I still stand by the fact that we had reason to believe that they were the same person.

Now, looking at the other CX soldiers we see in the finale, they all seem to parallel the OG members of the Batch: there’s a larger one who primarily focuses on hand-to-hand combat, someone who favours blades, a sniper, and a more tech-savvy one. And I’m sure there is a reason for that, symbolically or practically, but if the fact that they all resemble the Batch is important, then why was so much focus put primarily on CX-2? There was no way we weren’t going to think that they would reveal him to be Tech.

Overall, I’m annoyed. Tech was such a brilliant character and I am so frustrated that not only did he get a death that I felt was kind of cheap, but he didn’t get nearly the respect he should have been given in the final season. Now, I’m not using this as a way to bash the writers, and I definitely don’t think that anyone should use it as an excuse to be bullies, but unfortunately, I can’t be satisfied with the way Tech’s story ended, and I’m not sure I ever will.

Echo

Last but certainly not least, Echo. To say that Echo means a lot to me is an understatement, and I was genuinely terrified that I might have to say goodbye to one of my comfort characters. But thankfully, our boy made it!

Following Season 1, we all wanted for Echo to get some more development. It never felt like he had truly been used to his full potential. And thankfully, Season 2 began to give us that. Yes, we ended up saying goodbye to Echo for half a season, but we saw some incredible growth in his character, and him choosing to join the rebellion made too much sense not to happen. Unfortunately, this also meant that we didn’t get to see Echo for the majority of the final season, but I am beyond grateful that what they gave us in these last few episodes has been some of the best Echo content that we have ever seen. Watching him grow and find where he belongs has been a pleasure to watch, He really is an ARC trooper through and through. Particularly in these last few episodes, seeing how much he has grown to be like Fives, and watching him carry on his brother’s legacy, has been so incredible, No matter what anyone says, I believe that he truly is one of the greatest, and most important characters that we’ve ever gotten out of animated Star Wars.

However, I do have one gripe with Echo’s ending, and it’s the fact that it doesn’t actually feel like a conclusion. If anything, I have more questions about Echo now than I did before the last episode. Echo going to the Rebellion is an absolute given; he still has stuff to help Rex with. But the fact that there is absolutely no mention of him in the epilogue has just made me wonder where he is. Omega mentions Crosshair and Wrecker, and we only see Hunter, so we know that Echo isn’t with them. But we also know that at that point in the story, Echo also isn’t with Rex (assuming we’re in Rebels era). So where is he? What is he doing? Is he actually dead at that point??? I really hope we see more of Echo in the future because if this really is the last time we see his character, it’s too open ended for me to really be satisfied with it.

But if I’m being honest, I really don’t think that this is the last time that we are going to see him. And especially with Omega joining the Rebellion, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw another clone-centric show following these characters in the future.

Concluding Thoughts

All in all, my thoughts are still a bit jumbled. I still don’t know how I truly feel about everything, but hopefully this post at least gives some insight into how I think each character’s endings were handled. Will I change my mind at some point? Probably. But for now, this is where I stand.

At its core, I think the ending we got makes sense for a lot of the characters, and I’m glad that they didn’t all just die at the end. Sure, there are choices that I’m not happy with, but seeing that some of the Batch go on to live long lives is something that I’m very happy to see. It doesn’t happen enough in animated SW, so I’m glad we got to experience it.

#Star Wars #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb echo

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Our Love Story

Nanami Kento x Reader

Part 8: Celebration!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

(Song Inspiration: Love Her by Jonas Brothers)

The spring weather was in favor for your graduation. The cherry blossoms were blossoming. The weather was warm, with the help of the sunlight keeping everyone warm. The crowd watched as the graduation caps were thrown up in the air and their cheers heard throughout the arena.

“Kento-kun!” you yelled excitedly and ran to him. Nanami held a large bouquet of red roses and sunflowers.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” he said happily and hugged you tightly. The tears that you never thought would come started to flow down your eyes.

“Shoot, I’m crying…” Nanami chuckled and kissed the tears away.

“That’s good though. You finally did it, love.” You nodded in his chest. You heard your name loudly. And then you felt your body being pulled away from Nanami. You were in a bone crushing hug from Gojo.

“My hardworking girl did it!!!” He cheered happily.

“Satoru, you’re gonna crush her to death,” Geto said.

“Good job, girl,” Shoko said happily. Gojo finally put you down and you went over to hug Geto and then Shoko. “So what’s the plan?”

“I’ve been wanting to go back to the bbq place and then we can go out to a bar,” you said. “Is that okay, Kento-kun?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” Nanami held your hand and squeezed it tight with reassurance.

The five of you migrated to a bar that Geto suggested after eating. Shoko ordered five celebration shots.

“To your graduation!” Shoko exclaimed excitedly.

“To graduation!” Everyone raised their shot glasses and took their drink.

“What do you like to drink?” he asked you.

“I want…” you paused for a while. It was your first time going to a bar with him. “What do you drink, Kento-kun? It’s whiskey right?” He nodded. “I’ll drink one with you. I never had it on the rocks before.” Nanami nodded and ordered two glasses of whiskeys. “You don’t mind if Keiko, Hana, and Yumi stop by?”

“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll celebrate for all four of you.” You smiled. Your drinks arrived quickly. The two of you picked up your glasses and clinked in celebration. You took a small sip and made a quick face. Nanami chuckled. “You don’t have to finish it.” You shook your head.

“I can do it,” you said. “It has a different taste. Compared to vodka and rum. Geto-san! Have a drink! Here let me pay for you! What do you want?” Geto chuckled.

“Get me a Manhattan,” he said.

“One Manhattan please,” you said. The bartender nodded and prepared the drink. You searched for your wallet and remembered that Nanami was holding it since you had a dress on. “Kento-kun, can I have my wallet please?” Nanami shook his head and gave the bartender his card. You pouted but Nanami just gave you a peck on your pouty lips.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

An hour passed and your friends arrived. You happily introduced them to Nanami’s friends. And you were relieved that they all got along. Hana grabbed your wrist, dragging you to the dance floor. Yumi and Keiko followed.

“You’re so good to her, Nanami,” Shoko said. “Can you buy me a drink too?” Nanami nodded, ordering her favorite alcoholic beverage. Shoko happily thanked him and gave him a hug. “Get me a few more, I want to join them.”

“I’ll join them now!” Gojo said happily and danced his way to you. You laughed when Gojo held your hand and twirled you around. Nanami could only smile at you. Shoko chugged her drink before joining them. Geto chuckled as he took a seat next to Nanami.

“I’ll be honest, I never thought you two will get along,” he said. Nanami took a sip of his whiskey.

“I didn’t think so either,” he said.

“She balances you,” Geto said. “Almost like Haibara. Those two would’ve been the best of friends.” Nanami smiled a small yet sad smile. He can imagine it. He could see you and Haibara treat each other as if you two were truly brother and sister.

“At least I know for sure that Haibara would’ve loved her.” Geto nodded, watching the group dance.

“You don’t want to dance?” he asked. Nanami shook his head.

“You ever see me dance?” he questioned. Geto shrugged.

“How would I know? I’ll dance with them.”

He sighed in content as he sat there alone. But he didn’t mind it. He loves watching you have fun. When you turned to look at him, Nanami raised his glass out to you and your face brightened. You waved him over and he knew he couldn’t ignore it. He stood up and walked up to you. You held his hands, swaying them from side to side. You could only laugh at his awkwardness. Nanami blushed.

“Kento-kun, thank you,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Buy me another drink?” Nanami nodded, holding your back as you two walked back to the bar.

The two of you stumbled back inside his apartment. You leaned on him as he kept you balance with your arm around his shoulder. You laughed when Nanami bumped into the wall.

“That was so fun,” you said and held on tightly to your flowers. Nanami brought you to the couch and put the bouquet on the kitchen counter. “Kento-kun, let’s go on a vacation soon. Where do you want to go?”

“Malaysia,” he answered as he sat down. You sat close to him, your legs on his lap and your head resting on his shoulder. “By the beach.”

“I like the sound of that,” you said softly.

You felt him hold your chin and you were looking at him. Nanami leaned in and kissed you passionately. You moved to sit on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands caressed your sides while you played with his hair. You felt something hard against your inner thigh, making you blush yet also heated. Before it went any further, Nanami hesitantly pulled away.

“I want our first time to happen when we’re not intoxicated with alcohol,” he said softly as he caressed your cheeks. You nodded.

“I’d like that too,” you said. “Let’s head to bed?”

“Okay, my love.”

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

[sawyer-is-eepy]

i like you, here are my favorite awesome and underrated outer wilds fic + comic recommendations in no particular order

interpolation by @tippertot . its got base game spoilers, possibly dlc spoilers? unfinished but it's currently being updated wooooo!!! it's very interesting and i dont exactly understand whats going on but i really like it and am SO excited to see where it goes. keep in mind i've only read up to chapter 9 so idk what comes in the other chapters. but its so so so good, i need to make fanart for it sometime wahh. (and of course. also finish catching lol.)

hearth's shadow by @spitzyyyy . got dlc and base game spoilers - only 2 chapters out but they're decently long(and very angsty) and it was last updated in january and im pretty sure spitzle is still writing other fics so even if they drop this one, im sure they've got plenty of other, very good ones too. this is just the only one that i've read from him (YET) it's very sad though so like. brace yourself. BUT CHAPTER 2 IS ALSO CUTE THOUGH SO ITS FINE

and uh also anything by @crimsonquill-086 is very good ::) i havent finished all their stuff yet but i think(so far) on my own terms is my fave.

also i read like one chapter of the rule of quantum certainty by TimeturnerJay(i don't *think* they have a tumblr? not sure) and i've been meaning to return to it so im gonna read it after i finish this post so there's also that!! chapter one was gut wrenching i needed a break lol /pos

then i cannot recommend elwensa's comics enough. she makes so many and they're all very good, some are sad and some are cute, and some have headcanons that i basically accept as canon now for literally no reason.

here's a whole timeline i found of a bunch of her comics that i *believe* is up to date -https://www.reddit.com/r/outerwilds/comments/18uuy7z/elwensa_ow_comics_grand_timeline/

she's also got an entire au called the legend of outer wilds that's basically just outer wilds but its zelda inspired and it's got a ton of cool concepts so like. its very good it has its own carrd check it out - https://tloow.carrd.co/

and if we're talking comics i of course can't just like, not mention @cobaltbluesu 's "thrill chasing." pretty sure he only recently posted chapter one so im not sure how much there will be in the future but definitely go check that out, their art is so so cool(and a big inspiration for me.)

feel free to reblog with any other recommendations there are so many but if you find something good please tell me

#outer wilds #outer wilds spoilers #outer wilds fanart #echoes of the eye #echoes of the eye spoilers #outer wilds fic #outerwilds #outer wilds hatchling #outer wilds protagonist #outer wilds nomai

[black-and-yellow]

w1ld a1 b4by

#draw loudspeaker before i forget how #i did have to check the location of his scar #i did forget #I have missed drawing Lines #Louis is my baby boy but he's quite soft #I like to go absolutely wild with lines #wtvr i still love mic #now give me notes #bnha #hizashi yamada #present mic #mha #villain!mic #loudspeaker au #i keep getting kudos and follows on Taxonomies #like it's not that good and it's only got 2 chapters #idk if I'm ever gonna continue it but #glad the 2 chapters that do exist are clearly phenomenal

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Sword, Ancillary Mercy

Imperial space opera trilogy

a soldier who was once a starship AI with thousands of bodies but was betrayed and is now a single human body, encounters one of her old lieutenants on an ice planet and helps her while on her mission of vengeance

in book 2&3 she becomes part of a new ship, protecting a remote system & becoming familiar with the different people & culture while discovering injustices, politics, and murder

interesting cultures, characters, and use of a singular pronoun (she)

#Ancillary Justice #imperial radch #aroaessidhe 2023 reads #this is a p terrible synopsis but like. who hasn’t heard of these books #anyway: i finally read them!!! 10 years after reading the first 5 chapters lmao #did take me a bit to get into it #but once i got into it; a lot less complex than i expected it to be? or like. smaller scale. which I enjoyed. #also. it’s funny? not like all the time but more so than i was expecting #(i mean I wasn’t expecting or not expecting anything in particular) #love a grumpy not-friendship (as it is in the first book especially) #audiobook cons: skips the first two pages of every other chapter. pros: singing! in a way that actually works #(i only listened to the audio of book 1 bc the libby wait times are SO LONG for the others) #translator zeiat a standout in book 3. obsessed with her #i feel like i don;t have many concrete thoughts other than yea its good #anyway i will read the other 2 books at some point also