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munson-blurbs · 8 months

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Inspired by this TikTok. Thank you to @lesservillain for the idea and to @emsgoodthinkin for brainstorming with me!

Summary: Eddie jumpscares you one too many times, and so you decide to freak him out at work. But who will be more shocked: him, or you?

Warnings: fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, idiots in love, brief description of (fake) gore, joke about throwing up (doesn't actually happen), kissing as a joke (please only kiss w/ consent irl)

WC: 1.3k

It was just a joke.

A joke that had started when Eddie had barged into your house—the man wouldn’t knock if his life depended on it—and proudly announced, “I got the job!”

The job in question was a haunted house performer at Hawkins’ annual Fall Festival. You’d both been going since you were kids, and his favorite part had always been the haunted house.

He’d gotten word about his new job in early September. By mid-October, you’re fully sick and tired of his antics.

“Boo!” he’d yelled as he jumped out from behind the Wheeler’s couch, making you leap out of your seat.

“Raaahhh!” he’d growled in your ear while you were in the midst of a conversation with Robin, and once your heartbeat returned to normal, you flipped him off.

His enthusiastic “Gotcha!” during your history quiz was the final straw. You’d yelped, actually shrieked in the middle of class, clapping a hand over your mouth as Mrs. Click glared at you.

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” you’d hissed once you’d turned in your exam, growing more irritated when he’d just shook his head.

“You can’t scare me,” he retorted with a smirk, leaning up against a locker. “You’ve never been able to freak me out, and you never will. Don’t even try, little girl.”

Challenge accepted.

You spend the rest of the week wracking your brain for ideas. What is Eddie Munson afraid of? What will shock him?

The obvious answer is hiding a prized possession and making him think it was stolen or lost. You grin to yourself as you picture him frantically searching for Sweetheart; maybe you could leave a ransom note of sorts.

But that plan has too many moving pieces, so you scrap it. You’re about to give up entirely when Robin inadvertently gives you an idea.

“You guys coming to Steve’s party tomorrow?” she asks in between bites of her turkey sandwich.

“I’m down,” you eagerly agree, itching to have a night out with friends.

When Robin turns to Eddie, he shakes his head. “Gotta work,” he reminds her, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the spooky nature of his job.

Robin rolls her eyes. “Fine, okay. Stop by after. I promise we won’t make you play spin the bottle again.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, cheeks redden, and he gets up from the lunch table without another word.

Bingo.

The plan is set: on Friday, before Steve’s party, you’ll pay Eddie a visit at the Fall Festival. It’ll be a visit he’ll never forget, you’re sure of that.

Robin stands with you outside the haunted house, picking at a funnel cake with powdered sugar-coated fingers. “I’ll wait out here,” she promises, “but when you’re done, I wanna hear everything. Especially the look on his face.”

“You got it.” You shoot her a thumb’s up as you jog up to the bored-looking attendant taking tickets.

You’re in.

The first room just sets the tone. Eerie organ music pulses through an ancient sound system, and a fog machine creates a steam that prevents you from seeing the floor. Cobwebs hang in the corners of the ceiling, though you’re suspicious that they’re not intentional decorations.

Eddie’s not in the next room, either; just a woman wearing a blood-spattered wedding dress, wielding a knife and clutching a plastic severed head. She’s screaming something about, “teaching him not to cheat with a bridesmaid,” and looks vaguely annoyed that you’re not quaking with terror.

You go through three more rooms, getting increasingly irritating with the lack of Eddie in each one. He’s working tonight, so he has to be here—

Loud, stomping footsteps follow you into the dungeon-themed section of the house, and your heart skips a beat as you lay eyes on him. A distorted mask covers his face, but his unruly curls give him away despite the mad scientist costume he’s donning. He holds up a knife and creeps closer, a low growl emanating from his throat. You run until you no longer can, and he easily traps you, the cold metal gate pressing into your back.

If you’re going to do it, now’s your chance.

In one swift motion, you turn him so he’s backed up into the gate. A soft, confused “wha—?” leaves his lips as you lift his mask and lean in before you lose your nerve. Your lips press against his; hands on his cheeks as he accepts the way you melt into him.

Why isn’t he pulling away? Why isn’t he laughing and appreciating your prank? Why does it seem like he wants this…like he’s BEEN wanting this?

Fuck. Fuck.

This isn’t what you were expecting. He’s kissing you back, surprised but hungry, and you’re the one who ends up breaking away.

Before he can begin to question what’s happening, you dash out of the room. No. No, no, no. Your head spins as you attempt to process the emotions pulsing through your veins.

It was supposed to be a way of getting him back for his unwavering desire to scare you. Show him what it’s like to be the one on the other side of the joke. Because that’s all it was; a joke.

So why do you want to kiss him again?

Fresh air hits you like a slap in the face, and once you find Robin, you cling to her like a lifeline.

“We have to go,” you mumble, dragging her to the exit and refusing to make eye contact.

“Whoa, what happened?” When you refuse to answer, she sighs but doesn’t relent. “C’mon, did he, like, throw up or something?”

You shake your head. “I think he liked it.”

“Of course he did,” she says with a laugh, “the guy’s in love with you.” She nudges your hip with her own. “Toldja he would lose his shit.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Robs…when I said that I wanted him to ‘freak out,’ what did you think I meant?”

Robin crinkles her nose. “Um, that the Dingus-ette—that’s you—and her doting Dingus were finally going to admit that they have big, stupid crushes on each other?” Her expression falters when you stop in your tracks. “What did you mean?”

“I wanted,” you start, swallowing hard like a gob of peanut butter is stuck to the roof of your mouth, “I wanted to get him back for scaring me. I wanted to freak him out.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She’s no longer looking at you when she speaks, and you follow her gaze to where Eddie’s shuffling over to you. You want to beg her to stay, but she just squeezes your hand in a silent good luck.

“Hi.” Eddie’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “Can we talk?”

You can only nod in response. His mask is atop his mess of curls, and you can see the longing in his eyes. How have you never noticed it before? How did you not notice the need within yourself?

“Actually, I’m lying. I don’t want to talk.” With that, his arms pull you into him, torsos pressed together, and he’s kissing you. It’s like a missing link in a chain you hadn’t realized was broken, and you allow your hands to drape over his shoulders. You can feel him trembling slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“You okay?” you murmur against his lips.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he answers, ducking his head behind his curtain of hair. “Guess ‘m just a little freaked out that this is really happening.”

A smile twitches at the corners of your mouth, and you lace your fingers with his.

“Good.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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ozzgin · 6 months

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Greetings! How you doing today/tonight?

This is not a request or anything

Hopefully you're doing fine, cuz I'm not, I have a shitty cold rn and I just finished 5 tissue roll papers in just a few hours

Anyway this ain't about me, just wanted to see how you were doing since I've been a bit inactive with tumblr with the past few days

Have a great day/night :3

-🎧anon

Aww, sorry to hear that. We’re definitely entering cold/flu season. Mid-October I’ve gotten ill with some virus, no idea what it was, but I had no other symptoms other than terribly swollen sinuses. Which, in turn, pressed on my tooth nerves, so I had massive tooth pain for days. Never dealt with anything like that before and it sounds downright ridiculous, turns out it’s an actual thing. Start taking immunity supplements and avoid visibly sick people!

I know you said it’s not a request, but I couldn’t help the thought of “How would the Baki characters take care of you?” So I did write some short headcanons after all. For you and anyone else currently bedridden. :)

Baki Characters x Sick! Reader

Featuring Baki and Jack Hanma, Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi and Pickle. And a reader that’s battling a cold!

Baki Hanma

There are two stages of Baki’s involvement. Once you’re not answering his calls he will be at your front door, worried and considering ways to break in. That’s when he hears the muffled coughing and sneezing through the walls and figures it out: You’re sick. He’ll return with a bag of supplies and offer to stay at your place until you feel better. His help consists of quick Google searches, because he’s never had anyone doting on him and consequently has no idea how to care for someone in such situations.

Second and final stage is him getting sick from you. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to see him trying to hold back his cough, at first denying his poor health until you touch his forehead and it’s burning. The bad news is that you’re both bedridden. Baki is beyond embarrassed, attempting to justify himself and explaining it has never happened before. Eventually one of his or your friends will show up and pay the occasional visit to play nurse. At least you’re not suffering alone. You’re not sure if it’s an actual saying, but you’re tempted to believe colds go away faster in good company.

Jack Hanma

You don’t want to interfere with Jack’s routine, so once you wake up with the familiar sore muscles, you decide to quietly recover from home. Jack notices your absence and while he does not want to be nonchalant and potentially impose on your personal troubles, he can’t help the curiosity. In fact, he spends the whole training time wondering why you’ve skipped your usual visits. So when you hear a knock on the door you don’t think twice about opening it. Probably your food delivery. Only when you notice Jack’s massive frame blocking any outside view, you gasp in surprise.

“Oh. You seem to be ill.” Is all he states before turning on his heels and leaving. You stand there baffled and eventually return to your warm bed. Just as you cozy up, there’s another knock and you groan, throwing the blankets off of you. This better be the hot soup you ordered. Except it’s Jack again, holding not only your delivery, but also multiple other bags with groceries peeking out. “Y-you’re back?” You mumble. “Well, can’t do much empty handed. Here’s your order, but I got some extra things to help with your cold”, he states as he invites himself in.

Kaiou Retsu

You know Retsu will be worried about you, so you try your best to mask the symptoms over the phone. “That’s a stuffed nose. Are you sick?” He immediately points out. Uh oh. You fumble with some excuses and he promptly hangs up. Have you upset him? You’re starting to feel bad. He’s never dropped out of a conversation like this before. You try to call back several times until you’re distracted by the sound of your doorbell. You’re not in the mood for visitors. You continue your attempts to reach Retsu as you approach the door and open it. “I suspected as much.” Your head snaps up hearing the familiar voice.

Before you can say anything, you’re casually lifted up and brought to your bed. As if he’s been doing it his entire life, the Kenpo master tucks you in and pulls out an apron from his bag. “I’ll check what ingredients you already have in your pantry and go buy the rest. Before that, I’ll make you a tea. Any preferences?” You open your mouth to speak, but he’s already walking away, describing the best choice of drink for the common cold. Really, the best thing you can do right now is to rest and leave everything else to him.

Katsumi Orochi

Usually, Katsumi will avoid using the spare key you’ve given him. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick you up for your regular date night and you haven’t answered his persistent knocking, so you leave him little choice. He quietly apologizes for the intrusion as he unlocks the door and tiptoes his way in. The lights are off and he’s becoming increasingly anxious, almost sprinting to your bedroom. He stops in his tracks once he sees you buried under the blankets, passed out and sweaty from an obvious cold.

Ah. Well, that makes sense. He smiles to himself and gently pats your forehead to make sure it’s nothing serious, then sneaks out of the room. You wake up hours later, groggy and sore. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve slept through your date and jolt up, nearly collapsing in the process. You erratically search for your phone and call Katsumi to apologize. Simultaneously you hear his ringtone nearby, so you limp outside, confused. As you reach the kitchen, a pleasant smell invades your nostrils. Katsumi turns to look at you. “You’re awake! I made something to help with your cold. I’ll bring it to your bed, so you can go back and rest. We can’t skip our romantic dinner.” He chuckles after the last statement.

Pickle

Pickle has been ill at least once in his life, so he can quickly guess that your coughing and runny nose is not something that’s supposed to happen on the regular. Although, if he’s honest, he has no idea what he should do. He’d deal with his sickness by just sleeping it out, or downright ignoring it. Seeing you like this, however, fills him with an overwhelming desire to help you. He does love you, after all. Witnessing your suffering isn’t something he does with ease.

He manages to gesture the situation to Baki, who follows him back to your place and proceeds to do the first aid he’d sporadically learned over the years. A rather clumsy attempt, but it’s better than nothing. Once Pickle has observed the steps, he swiftly shoos the young boy away. All he needed was a little bit of demonstration, some brief instruction on the modern ways. Everything else will be done by him. It’s only proper that the actual care is performed by your partner. You’re a little afraid of the potential outcome to this experiment. Especially once you hear the loud rattles coming from the kitchen. Don’t worry, it’s all made with love.

*My partner has insisted that I include Yuujirou Hanma just to say that he’d tenderly piss on you. I compromised on a footnote.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #baki x reader #pickle baki #pickle x reader #jack hanma #jack hanma x reader #kaiou retsu x reader #kaiou retsu #katsumi orochi x reader #orochi katsumi #katsumi orochi

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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Good Fences (Fluffuary #18)

FEB18: Healing

TW: wound care, hurt/comfort

When John came back from his most recent tour, it had been months since you’d seen him. The summer had come and gone, and it was nearly mid-October by the time he had leave again. Over the course of his time away on his mission, communication had been almost non-existent, which you weren’t used to. He would reply in short, vague messages, and sometimes a simple “I love you” was all you would see for a week. Needless to say, you had been worried sick.

On the afternoon you were set to pick him up from the airport, you got a call from Kyle.

“Kyle? Hey! Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, babes. All good. We all came back in one piece. Look, I’m not supposed to be calling you. He’s gonna kill me for it, but it can’t be helped.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“He’s hurt his shoulder pretty badly. He won’t ask you to, but you are probably going to have to help him change the bandages. Didn’t want him thinking he could hide it like he’s been trying to.”

“Oh, my God,” your stomach dropped, “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be good as new in a few weeks. Swear. But, he’ll try to do it alone. I know you haven’t seen him hurt, but he’s just that way. I wanted you to know.”

“Thanks so much for telling me, Kyle.”

“You bet, babes. Hope to see you in a few weeks if I get a chance to fly over.”

“Sounds good. See you then,” you hung up the phone.

The whole drive to the airport was nerve wracking. You wondered how bad it was. You also wondered how he had been hurt. You mind fed you horror story after horror story, until you decided you were majorly overreacting.

You took some deep breaths as you waited in baggage claim, and when you finally saw him and his dirty boonie hat coming up the stairs, you nearly broke past the TSA line to get to him.

“John!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling him wrap only one arm around you.

You held him back to study him, and he noticed, asking,

“Who called? It was Garrick, wasn’t it?”

You sighed, not answering him but not lying to him either,

“Where are you hurt? Show me your shoulder.”

“C’mon, let’s go home at least. I’m tired, pretty girl,” he kissed your cheek and grabbed your hand.

You huffed a bit, still worried, but you were relieved that he was home where he belonged.

Back at your apartment, you waited a full ten minutes before insisting that you go into the bathroom to clean and dress his wound.

“Alright, love,” John sighed, “Alright.”

You didn’t like how tired he sounded. Watching him grimace as he removed his shirt hurt your heart, and you gasped when you saw his bandages.

There was a huge gash beneath his dressings, and more than twenty stitches held it together. Luckily, it was clean and free of infection, but it would definitely require weeks of care.

“Oh, John,” you breathed, kissing his other shoulder tenderly.

He sighed,

“I know, love. I’m sorry. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, “I’ll take care of you. You’re safe with me, now. You’re safe here.”

He turned and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to his side, hugging you tightly to him, staring down into your face with an odd intensity.

John’s eyes were looking into yours, searching them almost frantically before settling into a loving, fiery gaze, and he told you,

“Pretty girl, you have no idea how bloody true that is, and that’s why I love you so damn much.”

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thevioletcaptain · 2 months

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So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

#cass says things #this is a very long #and heavy post #so i guess i should include some content warnings #uh #christ what do i even tag this with #cw: hospital #cw: health #cw: death #cw: parent death

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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i made a rough timeline for the clone^2 au, just for my own convenience sake when dating things. some things might be out of order from the episode date, and thats also for my convenience.

September 3rd: Danny, age 14, has the accident in the lab that turns him liminal

September 10th: Danny is discharged from the hospital and given two weeks leave from school

September 24th: his sick leave ends, and Danny returns to school

October 14th: Danny sneaks into his parents' basement and releases the ghosts they have trapped in cages. Official birth of the vigilante, Phantom

November 27th: Danny fights Pariah Dark, and wins

December 24th: the Ghost Writer torments Danny

February 12th: Danny's 15th birthday

March 3rd: its been six months since Danny's accident

March 7th: Danny fights his evil future self

May 8th: Danny meets Ellie [age 15] and they become twins

December 14th: Danny finds out from his parents that he's a clone

February 12th: Danny's 16th birthday

Early-Mid April: Danny meets Damian [age 6] :)

Mid-Late April: Damian runs off for the first time, damages Danny's hands the first time

May: Damian runs off two more times in the span of three weeks, he damages Danny's hands both times.

Early June: Damian runs off one more time, damages Danny's hands again, resulting in permanent nerve damage.

Mid-Late June: Damian finally gives up on the League coming to get him and joins the Fenton Family.

July: Damian finally coaxes Danny into letting him come along with him on patrol: Wraith is born.

#danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #clone^2 #danny fenton is a clone #this only focuses on the earlier parts of the au because those are most important imo. figuring out when danny's accident was. when he #became phantom. when he met damian. etc. is all pretty important stuff and helps me figure out ages beyond '10 year gap'#not super important stuff to much anyone else i think but its nice to have it written down as reference #i usually put danny's accident as happening at the beginning of the school year. tis convenient that way #me: hmmm when do i make danny find out he's a clone. beginning of the school year makes the most sense right???#me:....or.... i could ruin his christmas again :)#thought about increasing the amount of times damian runs off but... thats a LOT of time he's run off and i didnt want to go overboard #same thing with danny's hands. thought about hurting him more frequently but honestly taking a blade to the hand is already damaging enough #on its own. catch a blade with his hands four times would be enough to cause permanent nerve damage and also he would have learned his #lesson if it happened more frequently.#so damian runs off 4 times in the span of essentially 2 months #and four times danny catches his blade. three times he got cut. one time he needed stitches #anyways thats the timeline for now. made totally for convenience sake and no other reason #totally dont look at my google docs there’s nothing there but half forgotten wips and cfau master doc

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thesixenthusiast · 1 year

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ruby – eddie roundtree

part one (part two, part three, part four)

pairing: eddie rountree x fem!oc (may change to x reader) warnings: drinking/drugs (billy/daisy's addictions) word count: 1.6k author's note: please bear with me in this, if there's a few time mix ups just with the order of things, please do let me know but i'm trying to find an equal balance between the book and show and it's a little difficult lol

On October 4, 1977, Daisy Jones & The Six performed to a sold out crowd at Soldier Field in Chicago, Illinois. They were one of the biggest bands in the world at the time, fresh off their award-winning, multi-platinum selling album “Aurora.” It would be their final performance.

In the 20 years since, members of the band and their inner circle have refused to speak on the record about what happened… Until now.

–

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1966-1972)

The Six started out as a blues-rock band called the Dunne Brothers in the mid-sixties out of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Billy and Graham Dunne were raised by single mother, Marlene Dunne, after their father, William Dunne Sr., left in 1954.

BILLY DUNNE (lead singer, The Six): I always dreamed of something different than the typical laid out career paths. When Graham first got the idea to start a band, I assumed it was just to win back his girlfriend. He was, what fourteen? The kid thought his life was over. [Laughs] I guess in retrospect, maybe it was a good idea.

WARREN ROJAS (drummer, The Six): He was definitely trying to get his girlfriend back.

GRAHAM DUNNE (lead guitar, The Six): We were solid, fine for a while. When Chuck quit, we were out a bassist, which isn’t really something you can do without in a band. Billy originally wanted Eddie to switch to bass, but he wasn’t too keen on that.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE (rhythmic guitar, The Six): I was so sick of Billy trying to run the band, it wasn’t his band, or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

WARREN ROJAS: There was this girl in my math class, her uncle owned a music store downtown, and she used to give lessons to kids on weekends, it was mostly just some scheme by her uncle to get people to buy guitars.

BILLY DUNNE: She was a sophomore, a young sophomore at that, she wasn’t even 16 by the time she joined, I was a year out of high school and the rest of the boys are creeping on 17 and 18, she just didn’t fit. Warren gets all the boys on board before bringing the idea up to me so I look like the asshole if I say no, I wanted to say no too, but she was good and I didn’t have another option.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: She didn’t even show an interest in being in the band, she wasn’t begging us to give her a chance, we were near-stalking her at the music store, waiting for the perfect opportunity to hear her play and casually bring up that we happened to need a bassist.

JULIET OPAL (bassist/singer, The Six): They weren’t nearly as sly as they thought they were. I originally thought it was some attempt at stealing records or 8-tracks, y’know waiting until I wasn’t looking, but they kept coming back, seemingly just waiting for me to do something, what it was I didn’t know, but something.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: [Sighs] They decided I would be the one to talk to her.

The shop’s bell rang, signaling the door had been opened, which swung Juliet’s attention away from the magazine she was skimming and up to the front of the store, peering through the aisles to see who entered. A boy, one she recognized from the creeping on her from the previous weeks, made himself visible and she was immediately on high alert. He approached the counter, swallowing nerves as he did, and cleared his throat.

“Hi,” his voice was hoarse, she took the awkward silence as a moment to study him, he wore a striped shirt, loose jeans, and brown shoes, his hair could use a comb through. He extended his hand, “I’m Eddie, I think we go to school together.”

“Juliet,” she met his hand, “is that why you’re here, to tell me that we might go to school together? Or is there an ulterior motive, one that may explain why you and your friends have been spying on me the past week,” any speck of confidence Eddie had going into this was entirely gone.

“I’m in a band with some friends and our bassist bailed on us pretty recently. My friend, Warren, he’s a junior like me, I think he’s in your math class, said he saw you play bass and that you were good. We just wanted to see you play before we formally asked.”

“Formally asked what?” She leaned up from her elbows that she had been propped on.

“Oh, to, uh, like,” he stopped himself, licking his lips and sighing, “would you want to maybe play bass for us?” His eyes instantly went to his shoes and he stuffed his hands inside his pockets.

“Can I have a little more info maybe? It’s not personal, I just don’t know you, like at all and you could be the worst players for all I know.”

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: That one hurt, something about a younger kid who you have a solid five inches on insinuating that she’s better than you are, especially when you’re practically on your knees begging for her to help you out can feel like salt being rubbed into a fresh wound.

JULIET OPAL: What else was I supposed to do? [Laughs] Just blindly follow the older boy who had been spying on me for a week to the alleged garage that he practices in with his alleged band and hope for the best? I paid attention in the stranger-danger assemblies, I knew better.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I invited her back to Billy and Graham’s but she said she had to close up for her uncle. Once we were out in L.A. she told me she actually just didn’t wanna leave with me and in hindsight, I can’t say I blame her.

The following morning Juliet and the Dunne Brothers skipped their first period and met in the Dunne’s garage. Juliet studied the wads of scribbled sheet music Billy had handed to her without looking her in the eye and she didn’t miss the way Eddie rolled his eyes at his hostility, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her upper lip curled into a smile as she saw his reaction.

After rifling through the stack of papers, she picked out one at random, and set it down on the table in front of her, leaning over to scan in a few times before pulling the strap of her guitar over her head. She looked over to the group of boys, standing huddled together with Billy noticeably further away and Warren nodded fervently at her with a grin overtaking her face.

After she played through the song, Billy made her play another, and another, and two more after that ‘for safety.’ Once he had run out of excuses for her to keep playing, he asked her to step out of the garage so they could confer with each other. After seven minutes and two overheard “c’mon man”s from Warren, Juliet was invited back into the garage and to serve as a temporary bass for the band, just until Billy could come to his final decision.

JULIET OPAL: He was stubborn even then, I’m honestly surprised he let me in.

BILLY DUNNE: I didn’t want to let her in the band.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I wanted her in the band, I made sure Billy knew that.

JULIET OPAL: A week after I joined, we were playing a gig with the Winters.

The group stood backstage, listening to the music that was permeating into every corner of the room. Juliet stood sandwiched between Warren and Camila, listening to the band. They had a keyboardist, she caught Juliet’s eye once they had got backstage, when they finished playing and she got offstage, Juliet made a beeline for her, introducing herself.

“I’m Karen,” she introduced herself, “you play with these guys?”

“Mhm, I’m on bass right now, but in an ideal world I’d steal Eddie over there’s job,” she pointed to him and he smiled back, nodding his head up at her, unknowingly, “I won’t though, kinda like him, at least more than I do Billy,” Karen nodded, opening her mouth to excuse herself from the conversation, “y’know I’ve been saying we need a keyboardist.”

“Have you now?” That piqued her interest she stopped in her tracks and smirked over her shoulder.

“No,” she admitted, “but I’ve been thinking it.” Billy hollered her name, gesturing her over to the group, who were making their way onstage. She pulled a receipt with a phone number scribbled across it in black ink and handed it to Karen, “If you ever get sick of them, give me a call, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Do you always carry around drug store receipts with your phone number on them?”

“You never know who you might meet,” she shrugged and started sprinting towards the stage before calling out over her shoulder, “worked out this time. Wish me luck!”

KAREN SIRKO (keyboardist, The Six): She was so.. vivacious, so full of life. She apoke about a million miles a minute, if I wasn’t fully interested in what she was saying, I don’t think I would’ve caught a word of it. You have this young girl talking your ear off, she seems entirely sure of herself, but also still feels a need to prove to you that she deserves to be there.

JULIET OPAL: I liked Karen, how could I not? And based on the way events would play out, clearly I wasn’t the only one.

WARREN ROJAS: It was a great gig, Julie did great, not that we weren’t expecting her to, we were just worried about her, she had never done anything in front of a crowd before, but she did everything that actually counted right.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: On the drive home she sat next to me and she told me I played well, then she leaned in and kinda whispered and she thanked me. She thanked me for being the one to ask her to join because she would’ve said no to anyone else. [Smiles]

#eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree fanfiction #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving #eddie loving x reader #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones x reader #warren rhodes #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes x reader #graham dunne #billy dunne #camila dunne #eddie roundtree x oc #daisy jones #eddie roundtree smut

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obliqueblade · 4 months

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End of Season 9 + health update (kinda)

So, I finally got a chance to watch most of the Hermits videos about the end of season nine, just finished with Grians, and I was not anticipating that I would cry.

I did. An embarrassing amount.

Something that I haven't talked about in a while, is the recent really bad health crisis I had a few months ago. For those unaware, or who don't remember, I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer almost three years ago.

A few months ago, one of my roommates, allowed her partner into our apartment knowing that they had Covid and didn't tell me or our other roommates. I got sick. Really sick. I don't want to go into too much detail, because it is not pleasant, but since then my doctors and I had to change almost everything about my treatment plan, but the major thing we were unsure of was how would it affect one of my upcoming surgeries.

Originally, this was set for mid-January, but my doctors wanted to run some more tests and make sure that I would be strong enough to undergo it. At the time in late October, they told me they would know for sure by December. And, a few days ago I got the call to go and meet with them.

I'm not strong enough.

Which, essentially means that without this surgery, all they are really going to be able to do is keep me comfortable until I pass.

Obviously, this sucks, and not at all how I had intended things to go. I've not told any of my family, mainly because I don't really know how to at this time. Tomorrow being Christmas it feels wrong to do it now, so I'll probably wait till after the holidays.

Do not worry, I am still making progress on the fic, as it isn't strenuous to do.

Anyway, I felt that I needed to write this with the end of the Hermitcraft season. I had only started watching Hermitcraft during season 8, not long after I had gotten my diagnosis. So season 9 was my first time watching a full season- start to end.

I think that might be one of the reasons I got so emotional towards the end. Realistically, depending on when they start season 10, I won't be alive to see it, let alone the end of it.

Obviously, I'm not saying "they need to start the new season now because I'm dying, and screw how burnt out you guys might feel". That would be ridiculous, and not the point I'm trying to make.

The Hermits introduced me to so much joy, such much creativity, and so much strength. The days I felt like were the end, were made so much brighter, because of the Hermits.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I probably wouldn't have made it through the past two years without them.

So, in the only way that I hopefully can with the time I have left, I want to complete this fic. I want to attribute something back to this amazing community, and the people that got me through so much.

Thank you, Hermitcraft, for making the last few years of my life feel like they were worth living.

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year

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Potential Future Dates of Events in Buddy Daddies - SPOILERS!

This is all speculation and is based off of seasonal aspects, cultural events in Japan, and other such clues. First off, we know that BD is now at the end of May. So, let’s go from there:

Sports Day:

In the trailer that revealed the OP we see Miri taking part in Sports Day. The usual time for that is April - June (especially for where they are, though it can sometimes be at the end of summer as well in September). So, this could either be in next week’s episode during June or it could be later in the season during September (late July and August get disgustingly humid, so Miri’s Sports Day is unlikely to take place then). I had one school district that did theirs in October, so that is a possibility too.

Rainy Season:

We see a couple of scenes in the newest trailer that came out, which indicates events taking place during Japan’s Rainy Season ( 梅雨 or tsuyu). The flowers we see associated with Kazuki’s wife, and which are pictured above, are hydrangeas and they are heavily associated with the rainy season in Japan.

Another scene from the newest trailer, of a very worried looking Rei carrying a sick (or hurt) looking Miri in a blanket to Kyutaro’s bar, while they are both soaking wet, also indicates the rainy season.

The rainy season lasts from early June to mid-July, so that’s likely when these events take place. They will likely be in the next episode or two coming up, since we are already at the end of May in-series.

Birthday Party? :

This image is from the trailer with the OP reveal in it. It looks like there are decorations in the background and Miri appears to be wearing a birthday hat. It also looks like she is wearing a sweater or hoodie (with the sleeves rolled up), so fall or winter. Kazuki’s birthday is May 16th, which already passed, Rei’s is unknown, and Miri’s is November 8th. Her birthday date could fit with her outfit and the fall/winter timeframe. But, it could also be a T-shirt with a hood and they are celebrating someone else’s birthday or the party could be for something else entirely.

#Buddy Daddies #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers #BD #speculation #potential timeline #timeframe of events #if you notice something else #please feel free to add to this!#long post #image heavy post

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

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Pi Gasu | Divine Sinner pt.2

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 5.5k

You need money and Jungkook needs you. Warnings: swearing, mentions of terminal illness, blood, vampires, violence, threats, needles, smutty / sexual undertones, non-descriptive smut, f. masturbation

SERIES COLLECTION

This is the time of week you dread the most, a Saturday afternoon at 2PM when your mother calls from your hometown. You moved away for college, and your family couldn’t argue with that decision since you’re a full scholarship student with top grades and a promising future in Nursing. You’ve always loved helping people, so nursing seemed like the obvious career path for you to go down. And your family were nothing but supportive of that decision, until your twin brother got sick.

“How is he doing today?” You sigh, legs crossed on your modest grey fabric sofa with your phone tucked between your shoulder and chin, using your hands to stir a freshly made instant ramen pot.

“Today is a good day… He keeps asking when you’re coming home to see him.” Your mother’s voice is soft, whispered as though she doesn’t want to wake your brother Eddie. She’s probably at his bed side right now, as she usually is.

The guilt trip tugs at your heart strings but you have to be honest with your mother about your finances. You inhale, preparing for her to spark another argument. It's always the same.

“I can’t afford to come back home this month, hopefully next month if I can pick up some more shifts at the care home—”

“Y/N.” Her voice is stern and you wince on instinct alone. “You said the same thing last month. What happened to that new job offer you had?”

Ah yes. That job offer. Your stomach churns at the thought.

“It… It fell through last minute, I promise I’m trying. I want to see him too.”

“Weren’t they supposed to give you a down payment or something?” Your mom reminds you and you click your tongue, cocking your head to one side when you grab your phone. They were supposed to give you a down payment. One thousand dollars for telling the truth about your medical history.

But it’s been two weeks and you’re yet to receive it.

“Uh, yeah… I’ll chase that up actually. I’ll call again later I really have to go, give my love to Eddie please, tell him I miss him and love him more than anything.”

Your voice wavers with disappointment directed at nobody but yourself, but truthfully every phone call with your mother is a struggle. Her guilt trips, constant reminders of Eddie’s rapidly declining health, the questions, the judgments, all of it.

“Bye Y/N.” She abruptly ends the call, and you groan in frustration before chucking your phone onto the sofa.

It’s the exact same conversation every single time. You wish there was something you could do to help Eddie, ever since he was diagnosed with a terminal illness one year ago you’ve tried your absolute best to find a way to come up with money.

Money to see him. Money for his treatments. Money to help your single mother. People who say money doesn’t make the world go round are clearly the people who have it. You may be the top of your class in college but you’re broke, arguably a terrible daughter and sister, and you’re at a dead end.

You need money… Now.

Which is what leads you to unlock your phone and begrudgingly text Namjoon, no messages have been exchanged since that fateful night you were taken to, and quickly removed from Euphoria. The vampire strip club you almost worked at.

Y/N: Hey… I really need that money from my medical records check, message me when you get this. It's Y/N.

But of course, no response.

It’s a little after eight pm when you go for a walk in the city, you’re all caught up with college work and can’t possibly imagine studying any more today. A well deserved brain break is what you need, with fresh air and maybe some cola from the convenience store a few blocks over.

It’s mid-October and the weather is bleak and uninspiring. You’re a little cold because of the wind, wrapping your yellow puffer jacket round your frame and keeping your arms crossed as you walk. The sky is darkening, stars beginning to sparkle and shine which finds a way to comfort you.

It’s strange really, most women your age would never risk walking alone at night fearful of what lurks in the shadows. Be it bad humans or bad vampires. But not you, thankfully you’ve never had an issue with solitary strolls in the dark. They’re tranquil. They’re therapeutic. And as the sky starts to sprinkle the ground with the faintest hint of rain water you sigh contently.

A little slice of peace in your simultaneously overwhelming and underwhelming life.

“Can I get two cans of cola please?” You ask the elderly man behind the counter, receiving a small nod and your items in a dark blue carrier bag once you’ve paid. “Thank you.” You smile, turning in place before your body crashes into another.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” You blurt, peering up with apologetic eyes at the person you bumped. But when you realise who it is your heart stops beating. This can’t be happening right now.

“Y/N...” Jimin grins, wetting his lips before he chuckles. “You know it’s dangerous for people to be walking the streets alone at night, right? We wouldn’t want something to happen to you now, would we?”

You’re panicking, at a total loss for words when your brain tries to scramble a response. Jimin brushes past you with a smug expression, his leather jacket making contact with your arm when he does so. He asks the cashier for something you don’t quite hear – since you’re already pushing your way out the door in a hurry.

“Wait there.” Jimin’s voice is quiet and calm, as are his footsteps when he catches up to you outside the building. “Let me give you a ride.”

“It’s okay, thanks though.” You offer him a weak albeit very phoney smile, one that he doesn’t accept.

He’s shaking his head with amusement, burying his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans with a smirk. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N, if I wanted to kill you you’d be dead already. It’s raining, you could get sick.”

“Really it’s okay I happen to like the rain—” Your words are cut short by Jimin gripping your elbow and forcibly shoving you into the passenger seat of his car parked up out front.

“Don’t forget your seat belt.” He winks before slamming the door shut. Trapping you inside.

Over the course of the past two weeks memories of Euphoria and all its staff members have become hazy to you, distant. As though none of it really happened.

But now you’re in the presence of Jimin, sitting smugly beside you as he starts the engine to a car you've sat in before. He looks just as dangerous as you remember him, his features are sharp and skin dewy. Dark hooded eyes trained to the road in front of him, sitting in complete silence until a low chuckle escapes him.

You clear your throat uncomfortably, not daring to look him in the eye, stare fixed to the collar of his black leather jacket instead, “Is something funny?”

“I’m not going to kill you.” He reiterates with a grin, rolling down his window with the push of a button. His head leans in the direction of the wind, inhaling the fresh air through flared nostrils.

“I didn’t say you was—”

“Your heart.” He turns to face you with a charming smile, wetting his lips again, “It’s racing.”

Oh. Well he’s not wrong… You are locked inside a car with a vampire, one on one. You’re not sure if you can trust him because the last time you were with him he blindsided you, if it wasn’t for Namjoon stepping in god only knows what would’ve happened.

“Sorry.” You mumble, slouching in place.

At this he laughs, rolling his eyes into the back of his skull before returning them to the streets ahead, “You’re so human.”

You can’t help but scoff, brows raised, mouth opening before giving what you say a second thought. “And you’re so vampire.” At this Jimin tuts as though he's offended, but he’s still smiling.

When you look out the window you realise you’re nowhere near your apartment, in fact you don’t recognise the surrounding area at all. It’s dark, the street lights are moving too quickly for you to focus on anything specific but you think you’re in a rural part of town. A long, long a way from home. With a vampire.

“Jimin…” You’re breathless, already fearing the worst, “I-, I don’t live around here.”

“I said I’d give you a ride, never said I was taking you home.” He hums, proud. “Boss wants to see you, and before you ask...nope. He wouldn’t tell me why. Jungkook’s not exactly the sharing type.”

Your heart stills, eyes wide and palms clammy, “J-Jungkook wants to see me?”

“Did I stutter?” Jimin snorts, turning a particularly harsh corner that has you gripping the passenger door handle tightly until your hand cramps, “That’s what I said.”

“Did you follow me just so you could take me to him?” Your voice is raised and confused. Your facial features pinched and panicked. “Have you been following me all night?!”

The driver’s expression drops into something amused, maybe even a little bored looking when the tyres of the vehicle drive over gravel – signalling your arrival. “It's cute that you thought we just happened to bump into each other. Why would I be at a convenience store? To buy a vegan meal for one?" He snorts, "We’ve had a close eye on you since the moment you left. Bosses orders.”

Your voice is merely a whisper when it rolls off your tongue, uncertainty evident in your tone. "Why? He... he didn't want me to work here so why would he want...?"

Jimin shrugs, toying with his silver bangs in his rear view mirror with a pout. "Like I said, Jungkook isn't exactly the sharing type. All I know is he wants to meet with you."

You feel violated, disgusted, kind of ashamed. How much do they know about you? About your life? Why would Jungkook order his staff to watch you if you weren’t good enough to be a donor for him in the first place? Your heart hammers in your chest, something you’re certain Jimin must’ve picked up on. It’s when you see the red neon Euphoria sign that reality comes crashing down on you. This isn’t a sick, twisted joke – this is really happening.

And it happens fast. Jimin is tugging you out of the car, not that you’re kicking and screaming in protest – no. You’re too shocked and scared to do any of that. You feel numb, very numb. Everything happens in a blur, whether Jimin intentionally rushed you through the building with his inhumane speed or you blacked out during your way upstairs you’ll never know. But you’re here, standing outside Jungkook’s office within the blink of an eye.

“Nice seeing you.” Jimin winks, knocking his ringed fingers three times on the solid oak door before he disappears quicker than you can register.

Jungkook’s voice is muffled by the door but it’s undoubtedly his. Oozing with seduction and pride, making every hair on your body stand to attention with a deadly cocktail of terror and desire when it falls on your ears.

“Come in.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what's behind the door. When you push it open you’re greeted with heat, lots of it, pouring from the open fire that Jungkook sits in front of on one of the leather sofas.

His raven hair is damp and messy, parted in the middle just enough to reveal his hooded eyes and the dark script tattoos that lie beneath. His black silk shirt messily hangs from his body, open, revealing the most taught and toned six pack you’ve ever seen. His thick legs are spread wide, the leather pants he wears struggling not to tear as they attempt to conceal his thigh muscles. In his right inked hand he loosely grips a crystal glass half-full of a thick crimson liquid. You know exactly what that is, the slight stain it’s given his plump lips makes it all the more obvious.

Blood.

“You wanted to see me...?” You don’t dare to step over the threshold of the door, instead choosing to stay put with arms tightly crossed over your chest. You feel severely underdressed right now. Jeans, Converse, a plain white t shirt, and your bright yellow puffer jacket. It’s almost comical the way you look in comparison to… that.

Jungkook lifts his chin, averting his fierce gaze to your frame with a sinister smile. His white fangs are prominent, a not-so-gentle reminder of what he truly is. When his glossy tongue swipes over his teeth in an obnoxious display of seduction you have to peel your eyes away from him, which only seems to entice him more because now he’s chuckling to himself.

“I did.” He nods once, slowly, “Please come in.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You blurt before you can stop yourself, and he laughs, loudly at your boldness.

“If I wanted you dead you would be by now.”

You sigh, finally stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that tonight.” You mumble, swallowing thickly as if to battle your nerves.

When you edge closer to him you don’t miss the way the Adam’s apple in his throat bobs up and down, nor does the way his nostrils flare go a miss. He’s dragging his gaze up and down your body when you sit in front of him on the other sofa, suddenly very warm due to the roaring fire beside you.

“If you’re too hot why don’t you take your jacket off?” He suggests with a wicked smirk, can he read minds? Or is he just good at reading people? You wonder, awkwardly shifting out of your lemon coloured coat and placing it beside you with a huff.

“You know you still owe me one thousand dollars.” You don’t know where you’ve mustered the bravery from to say that, but he simply grins, gesturing to a white envelope beside him.

“I’m aware. It’s here, you can count it if you don’t trust—”

“Why am I here?” You cut him off, simply because his presence is overwhelming you. The way he looks, how he’s dressed, his scent, his smile, his ridiculously beefy body on full display. Your voice is thick with venom and laced with sarcasm, “You said yourself I don’t belong here, so why am I here?”

At this Jungkook tongues his cheek, but it does little to rid him of the impressive grin tugging the corners of his tainted lips, “I have a proposition for you.”

Your eyes widen, mouth quickly drying of any saliva, “A proposition? You mean like a job?”

“Of sorts.” His head tips to the left, exposing more of his thick neck. “I want you to work for me.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said,” He cuts you off with a raised digit and a warning stare, “And under no circumstances will you be donating to anybody else, just me.” He chuckles, watching the way you’ve turned visibly uncomfortable, “I don’t drink from the vein, you won’t be harmed. And you’ll be compensated financially of course, every time you make a donation.”

You do need the money right now, but can you trust Jungkook? Definitely not. Everything about him should have you running for the hills – he’s terrifying. But you think back to Eddie, his treatments, visiting him, supporting your mother… You’d be a fool to turn this down, no matter how morally corrupt it may be.

“Say I’m interested…” You find the strength to look into his eyes, they’re already staring right back at you intensely and he almost smiles. “How much money would I make per donation? And if you don’t drink from… I-, well how do I donate?”

His gaze doesn’t falter, fiery and fixated on you, “Five thousand dollars per donation, and just like you’d donate at the hospitals. Except you’ll be getting paid for it.” His smirk is dark and drips with desire, “I do have a few conditions though.”

At this you click your tongue to the roof of your mouth with a small nod. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money. You'll do anything. “Understandable. What are they?”

“Keep a healthy diet, no vigorous exercise on the days you donate, no drugs, no alcohol in the five days leading up to the donation...” He lists as though this is the most mundane conversation on earth, “And most importantly you need to touch yourself within an hour of donating.”

Your eyes bulge from your skull with a scoff, “I’m sorry, what was that last one?”

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come.” He repeats with a straight face, “You do touch yourself, don’t you Y/N?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business or why I’d need to—”

“I’ll take that as a yes then, shall I?” His brow quirks, the smug smile he wears both enticing and petrifying. And very salacious. “Arousal makes the blood…” He inhales through his nose, deeply, enough for his strong chest to rise and grab your attention, “Sweeter. And I imagine yours is…” He trails off to nothing, lost in thought when he licks his lips.

“Why do you want my blood in the first place?” You deflect, heat growing in each of your pressure points at the way he ogles your frame with eyes blackened by lust. “I thought I wasn’t good enough to work here.”

“On the contrary.” His pupils dilate instantly, his large free hand roughly palming his thick thigh, “The vampires who come here aren’t good enough for you.”

You’re biting your nail nervously as you digest what he’s saying, still unsure of what it means. “But—”

“You seem to have an effect on me Y/N. Something that has never happened in all of my years, and it’s not just me. The others here sense it too, the reason I don’t want you to work here is because I fear you have a similar impact on all of my kind. To put it simply you'd end up dead pretty quickly if that's the case. I’d like you to donate so I can test your blood for any anomalies, to find out why I’m… drawn to you, as it were.”

It all starts to make sense. Jimin and Namjoon’s reaction to you, Taehyung… All of them. The comments about air freshener, the opening of the car windows. How Taehyung had mentioned your smell… You’re nodding slowly as you mull over the facts. Truthfully you’re intrigued to say the least, what makes you so special? You exhale shakily, gaze flickering up and down everything the monster in front of you has to offer. Why does he have to be so damn attractive? You physically shake the crude thoughts from your mind.

“So you’re just testing my blood? You won’t even be drinking it?”

He smiles, holding up his glass as if to make a toast, “That’s right.”

You swallow, “Then why… Why do you want me to touch—”

“Like I said… It makes the blood sweeter.”

“But you said you won’t be drinking—”

“You know you’re a very brave little girl picking a fight with a vampire. Are you always this argumentative?" He chuckles sinisterly, "Just do as I say and in return you’ll be paid. Do we have a deal?”

Eddie. Eddie’s medical bills. Your mother. Travel expenses.

You’re nodding gently, maybe a little hesitantly, “We do.”

At this Jungkook’s grin widens, exposing his white teeth, “Perfect. I’ll leave you to it then, shall I?” He stands, “I’ll be right outside, let me know when you’re finished.”

“Wait what?!” Your jaw drops to the floor.

He makes his way over to you, until your face is level with his leather clad crotch directly in front of you and you have to look somewhere else, somewhere that isn't his taught stomach flexing under the dim lighting. “You’re already here... it would be a waste to not donate tonight, would it not?” He’s peering down at you with a sharp profile riddled with amusement, endeared by the way you can’t physically look at him.

“I-, I’m not exactly in the mood to…”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He sighs knowingly, dropping to his knees in front of you in the blink of an eye, tattooed hands slowly spreading your thighs. “Since you’ve been staring at me all night and think I’m so damn attractive.”

You’re more affected by his touch than you anticipated, your skin is hot beneath your jeans under his palms. It doesn’t feel real, how turned on you are, how your nipples are already hardening under your bra. How your panties are already growing damp. Your mouth dry. You should be embarrassed right now, and usually you would be absolutely mortified that you’re so aroused at the slightest touch. But something about the power he has over you only entices you more.

“So you can read minds…” You breathe, innocent whisper stained with desire.

“Mmm.” He smirks, neither confirming nor denying your statement. His hands slowly slide up your thighs, until there’s no thigh left and his thumbs are dangerously close to your throbbing core. “Tell me Y/N, do you need any toys? Or can you make yourself come with these?” Suddenly your fingers are laced with his, pinned either side of your head against the back of the sofa.

You gasp, “I-, I don’t… I don’t need toys.” If you’re being honest you’d rather he be the one to push you over the edge, vampire or not he’s so fucking sexy… His hands, his tongue, his cock… You want all of it. On you, inside you, pressed against you, fucking you senseless. You’re in a daze, mind clouded with a carnal lust you've never experienced in your life.

He makes a tsk noise between his teeth that has every nerve in your body aflame, “You need to keep your thoughts to yourself little girl. Before someone gets hurt.” His eyes are black, boring into the depths of your soul for what feels like a life time until he snaps away from you, somehow already standing by the door. “Take as long as you need, I’ll be out here.”

In one incredible display of self-restraint Jungkook calmly closes the door behind him before frantically covering his nose and mouth with his palms. Chest heaving up and down with every ragged breath he takes, throat burning, yearning for your body and blood. He can’t think straight, your scent is clouding every single one of his senses. He’s never known anything like it before, he even made sure he fed before your arrival – but still it wasn’t enough.

Things could’ve escalated into something sinister if he hadn’t stopped himself when he did. The way you looked at him, the things you thought of him, the way your thighs tensed and then melted under his touch, welcoming him.

He’s never had sex with a human before, not since he turned all those years ago, because he knows he’d lose control and kill them in an instant. That and because up until he saw you no human was even worth the risk of execution. He could fuck as many vampires and witches as he wanted, why waste his time on a fragile little human?

He presses his back to the door, attempting to slow his breathing. If his heart still worked he’s certain it would be racing right now. He has to find out why he’s so affected by you, your presence, your smell, your body… He wants all of you, every inch of skin, every piece of arousal, every drop of blood.

A frustrated sigh leaves him, even through the oak door your thoughts are so fucking loud. Thinking of him while you touch yourself, imagining it was his fingers inside you instead of your own. This was a bad idea, it’s taking everything in him not to smash the door down and rush to your side right now.

A soft moan through the wood makes his balls hurt. Not pulse, not tighten, no they hurt. His cock longing to plunge itself deep into your sopping pussy. His fangs itching to plunge straight into your jugular. He’s a total wreck and he despises it, usually he’s calm and collected, but more to the point he’s always in control. But with you around? An impossible feat. A louder noise, maybe a whimper, has him pulling the hairs at his scalp. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out for, but he needs your blood to be at its best.

From the other side of the wooden door you’re panting, mouth wide open as you ride out your high on the leather sofa. Did you really just fuck yourself to an orgasm in front of a roaring fireplace in a vampire’s den? Yes. And you feel better for it, most of the tension has lifted from your body and you can finally think straight again. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money, money you desperately need for your family. And getting paid for an orgasm doesn’t seem too undesirable. While a part of you feels cheap and dirty, things could always be a lot worse.

As soon as you’re dressed you head over to where Jungkook is, shyly opening the door.

“I’m-, I've-, it’s done.” You can’t look him in the eye, nor does he give you the option because he remains with his broad back to you when he speaks.

“Good. I’ll go get the supplies.”

It’s twenty minutes later when you’re giving your first donation, the needle stung a little when it pierced your vein but Jungkook was careful and surprisingly gentle with the preparation. As a Nursing student you know that what he's doing is medically correct at least.

You watch blood drain from your arm and into long test tubes, ten to be exact. After the final one you start to feel woozy and lightheaded, sinking further back into the sofa with heavy eyelids.

“We’re done. Are you okay?” He asks, sounding genuinely concerned. The fact he’s taking your donation himself instead of asking someone else to doesn’t go unnoticed. You can’t help but wonder if this is difficult for him, but judging by his tight set jaw and heavy breathing you already know the answer.

“I’m fine.” You nod lazily, noting the bandage already sitting neatly in the ditch of your elbow. “Are you okay?”

At this he frowns, his features intense and brooding when he looks you dead in the eye, “What do you mean?” He looks a surprised, maybe a little shocked, and you question if anybody has ever asked him such a basic, such a human question before.

“The blood. Doesn’t it do something to you?” You half-smile, well aware of the fact he’s biologically programmed to kill you any second now. You’re weak, defenceless, and truthfully you wouldn’t put up much of a fight knowing the outcome would be your death regardless. “I learned about vampires in high school, I know that once you smell blood—”

“You don’t know a single thing about me.” He snaps, voice oozing threat, “Like I said… If I wanted you dead—”

“You would’ve done it by now.” You can’t help but chuckle, every part of you knows you should be terrified right now, and maybe in the depths of your being you are. But part of you takes his word at face value. The fact of the matter is you’re unharmed, just like he said.

Jungkook smirks, shoving your blood samples into the back pocket of his leather trousers, “Exactly. I’ll drive you home, you’ll recover more comfortably in your own space.”

Your brow quirks, “What about Jimin?”

The low possessive rumble in his chest is undeniable, as is the flicker of disgust in his hooded eyes. “I’m not going to risk leaving you with another vampire when you’ve just-, when you smell… like that.” He swallows, turning away from you completely.

Your cheeks flush when you realise what he means, “O-okay…”

It's after a painful car journey to your apartment building and back that Jungkook finds himself in one of the dark VIP rooms back at Euphoria, some nameless woman in lingerie gyrating and grinding against his spread thighs.

Her physique glows under the devilish lighting, flaunting her curves and crevice’s and emphasising her bright smile. While his gaze is fixed to hers and he and visibly looks as though he’s enjoying her private dance, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

It’s nothing but an experiment to him, she’s one of his few human dancers at the club and her presence doesn’t affect him in the slightest. He can’t even remember her name any more. When he watches her he feels… nothing. No desire to hunt, no desire to kill, to kiss, to fuck, to feed from. Nothing. All he can think about is you.

That’s what leads him back to his office not even thirty minutes later, popping open one of the test tubes filled with your blood. His eyes glow red and frame with dark bruising and veins immediately, fangs extending at least an inch longer than his other teeth, nostrils flaring when he inhales the scent of your donation. It’s the sweetest, most addicting thing he’s ever encountered in his entire existence.

“Fuck.” He growls, cock already straining against his leather pants and chest heaving up and down in sync with his heavy breaths. Without giving a second thought he knocks back the vile as though it’s a shot of alcohol, groaning in pleasure after he swallows, scrambling to find the other tubes because he wants more. He needs more. Just as he expected, you're the best thing he's ever tasted. From the moment you met he knew you were his new obsession.

And unbeknownst to you, there are no tests.

Just thirst.

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ndlqzrz · 3 months

Text

Another ‘announcement’ 💀

(I think i’m seeing a pattern here guys..)

Guys I know I said my break would last til mid jan but atp idk 😰

I can’t promise anything, I know for a fact (i don’t..) i’ll maybe be back before the end of feb anyway (basically a short was of sayin march) but i’ll try get 1 or 2 fics out in between then <3.

Hope you’s understand, im way more focused on studying, family related stuff + editing so i’m kind of busy 😭. Like obvs I love writing as-well but it isn’t my main focus ykwim?

I’m not quitting but I need a break 💔 obviously i’m still active and interacting with yous, like don’t get me wrong I am just as obsessed with beta squad (niko..🤭) as I was when I was posting weekly (ish) but idk my motivation has gone and i’m just kinda struggling w stuff atm so.

Not only that but i’ve been sick literally since October - November so basically when I started this whole thing 😓, Please this sounds way too dramatic i’m so sorry guys help. Its giving YouTuber apology video, should be in that one stance fr 💀 A star acting LMAOO.

I rlly hope yous understand and I am rlly sorry HELP 🫶🏻

Love yous all so so much xx 💋

- nia

Edit : Im infact not back yet..!!

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years

Photo

Since Trotsky came to Mexico I have understood his error. I was never a Trotskyist.

- Frida Kahlo

In the summer of 1940, Frida Kahlo found herself in jail. Mexico City police suspected her as an accomplice in the murder of the embattled Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky. Several days prior to her arrest, he’d been gruesomely offed with an ice pick. His murder - and her implication in the crime - was a dramatic turn of events, especially considering that Kahlo and Trotsky had been giddy lovers just three years earlier; she’d even dedicated a striking self-portrait to him.

Kahlo had many romantic partners over the course of her short life (she died in 1954 at 47), but few resulted in dedicated paintings—and fewer pointed explicitly to her political beliefs. The liaison with Trotsky did both. Although their romance only lasted several months, it offers a window into Kahlo’s politics and how deeply they influenced her work.

Kahlo and Trotsky first met in 1937, when the painter was 29 and the politician was 57. Kahlo and her husband, muralist Diego Rivera, were vocal supporters of Marxism and had been on-and-off members of the Mexican Communist Party for a decade, since 1927. Influenced by the Mexican Revolution at the turn of the century, they advocated for a populist government and believed political power should rest in the hands of the working class.

By the mid-1930s, Kahlo and Rivera both considered themselves Trotskyites. They’d followed the Russian Revolution and the rise of Communism closely, and knew Trotsky as a hero of the 1917 October Uprising, which cemented Vladimir Lenin and the Socialist regime’s rise to dominance. But when Joseph Stalin assumed leadership in 1924, he consolidated power and demoted Trotsky, exiling him for good in 1929. As a result, the Communist party fractured into two main camps: Stalinists and Trotskyites.

It was Rivera who convinced Mexican President Lázaro Cárdenas to offer Trotsky political asylum in Mexico. After several years in Turkey, France, and Norway, Trotsky and his wife Natalia Sedova boarded an oil tanker and docked in Tampico, Mexico on January 9, 1937. Rivera was sick, so Kahlo greeted them at the port, along with a troop of armed guards.

Kahlo and Rivera offered the Trotskys their second home, the now famed Casa Azul, equipping it with guards, barricades, covered windows, and alarm systems to ensure their political hero’s safety. Sedova recalled the beginnings of the trip fondly in a letter to friends: “We were breathing purified air…A motorcar…carried us across the fields of palms and cacti to the suburbs of Mexico City; a blue house, a patio filled with plants, airy rooms, collections of Pre-Columbian art, paintings from all over: we were on a new planet, in Rivera’s house.”

It wasn’t long after the Russian couple settled in that a romance developed between Kahlo and Trotsky. The politician’s secretary, Jean van Heijenoort, remembered the pair’s blatant flirtations under the nose of Trotsky’s wife. Sedova didn’t understand English, the language in which the lovers communicated. They met clandestinely at Kahlo’s sister’s house, and Trotsky slipped love notes into books he lent her. Kahlo and Trotsky’s meek attempts at discretion didn’t prevent Sedova from discovering the affair. She gave her husband a “me-or-her ultimatum. It seems that Kahlo tired of the romance around the same time. Despite their split, the two remained friends for some time until Trotsky’s murder.

Photo: Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky (right), Mexican artist Frida Kahlo (centre), and revolutionary and wife of Trotsky Natalia Sedova, photographed Together In Mexico In 1937.

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sunlightandsuffering · 2 months

Note

Lys I’m very sick in the hospital and my doctor told me the only cure was to ask you what’s gonna happen with the sex magic shenanigans in Magic Mayhem

CALL AN AMBULANCE.... BUT NOT FOR ME!

Kudos to you for making me look at my magic mayhem document, it's been like 5000 years, actually it's been since october exactly ahahah !! I have like a solid 1700 words written for it so far with the date progression! BUt i definitely think it'll be them fighitng, that seems to be how it's progressed so far. THEY'RE GOING TO FIGHT BUT WITH SEX!! AND JEALOUSY!! and it will be fun. Should they fuck in the bathroom stall mid-dinner?? who is to say? Should the sexual tension build up so mcuh they both just fucking leave?? WHO IS TO SAY!!

#familiar au

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imtrashraccoon · 5 months

Text

This one took me longer than I would've liked to write but I blame work. This is also definitely one I might write a bonus chapter on as it got a bit too long to include everything I planned.

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 18: Festival

You finished putting the last plate away in the cupboard. Hopping off the step stool and shoving it into the corner where it was now normally kept, you couldn't help but hum a little tune as you finished cleaning up after breakfast. Papyrus had left a little while ago, presumably to run errands as he hadn't been wearing his guard uniform today and had put on a coat before leaving.

You were just heading into the living room when he returned. At first you heard a few thumps outside the front door before he opened it and stepped inside, although you could tell he was having a bit of difficulty doing so. The reason why was immediately apparent as he'd brought a whole pine tree home, much to your bewilderment.

"What's with the tree?" you asked once he'd set it down and closed the door behind him.

Papyrus smiled and looked over at you. "It Is For Gyftmas," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

He started to move the tree to one corner of the living room and you immediately retrieved the broom to clean up the snow. You'd have to get the vacuum afterwards for the pine needles since if you knew cats, Doomfanger would be curious about the tree and you didn't want her to get sick.

"What's Gyftmas anyways?" you asked after a few minutes.

Papyrus hung up his coat before answering. "It Is One Of The Few Times Of Year When Monsters Come Together To Spend Time With Each Other And Give Gifts." He got a sort of faraway look in his eyelights as he added, "I Have Always Enjoyed The Holiday, Although Sans And I Have Never Had Much Of A Reason To Celebrate It, Until Now Anyways."

"i think you just want an excuse to show off literally the only nice thing about our traditions," Sans teased as he descended the stairs with a decently sized box in his arms. You noted that someone had written 'GYFTMAS THINGS' in black marker on all the sides, this someone was probably Papyrus from the bold capital letters.

"Yes..." Papyrus muttered through gritted teeth. "Can You Blame Me Though?"

"nah, it's pine, bro. this holiday just seems to make everyone act all sappy."

Papyrus glared at Sans and briefly clenched his fists. "You set that up on purpose," he grumbled.

"yep, you should know i never miss a chance to needle ya, " Sans chuckled as he set the box down.

Papyrus rolled his scarlet eyelights and crossed his arms. "And You Never Cease To Remind Me Either," he muttered.

Frisk came over to investigate what was going on. Although, they barely took one look at the tree before turning to you to ask a question. "Is this a Christmas tree?" they signed.

You thought for a moment before the realization that it would be just about Christmas time on the surface hit you. It had only been mid-October when you'd both fallen down here and you'd barely been keeping track of the time.

You shrugged, "It certainly seems similar to a Christmas tree."

Seeing the brothers looked a bit confused, you explained to them what Christmas was and a couple of the traditions. In return, they explained what Gyftmas was and you quickly realized how similar it was to Christmas. There were some differences, but the spirit of the holiday was almost the same and it was enough to make Frisk really excited.

< ~ - . - ~ >

After decorating the tree together, you made some hot chocolate for Frisk like you used to, much to their delight. While you didn't have many holiday traditions, it hit you that this would be the first year you wouldn't be with your family. You'd missed Thanksgiving without realizing and your heart ached just from thinking about how much they probably missed you.

There was nothing you could do about it though. Unless a miracle happened, you weren't returning to the surface any time soon, at least not alive or with your friends anyways.

Papyrus apparently noticed how quiet you were being and he moved to your side. "Are You Alright?" he murmured.

You nodded slowly, although your eyes were beginning to burn with tears that threatened to fall. Not wanting to make a scene, you turned away from the living room and slipped into the kitchen.

Papyrus decided to follow you, which was fine. You just didn't want Frisk to see you feeling sad when they were so happy.

"I'm fine," you said quietly. "It just hit me how long we've been here... I've never missed a holiday before, not even while I was back in college.

Papyrus didn't seem to know what to say. So instead, he pulled you into a gentle hug and held you for a while. "I Am Sorry," he murmured into your hair. "This Is Not Your Fault, So Try Not To Beat Yourself Up Over It."

You shook your head. "I know...things could be far worse right now." Not wanting to focus on negative things any longer and end up actually crying, you decided to change the subject. "When is Gyftmas exactly?"

Papyrus pulled back slightly so he could look at you properly. He scanned your face for a second, as if checking that you were alright and not just pretending to be.

"Tomorrow, "he finally said. He seemed to relax slightly when he apparently didn't find what he'd been searching for.

You nodded thoughtfully. "You mentioned that gift giving was part of your traditions, right?" you asked.

"I Did..." Papyrus said slowly.

You hesitated for a moment before deciding just to go ahead and ask what you'd been thinking. "Is there anything we can do to make this special for Frisk? I'd hate for them to be sad and it doesn't have to be anything crazy."

He seemed to consider your question and after a bit he nodded. "Yes, We Could Go To The Shop So Long As We Conceal Your Appearance," he concluded.

Your eyes widened slightly at the prospect of actually going outside again. "I wasn't referring to actually buying anything but if you think it'll be alright, then let's do it."

Papyrus managed to find you a black parka, presumably one of Sans' considering the size, and a gray scarf with a red fringe. The coat was rather thick and had a fluffy fur hood but it was a tad large on you, not that you minded. You wrapped the scarf around your neck in such a way that you could pull it up over your nose, and combined with wearing the hood up, made it pretty hard to tell you were human in your opinion.

Papyrus seemed satisfied with your appearance and he nodded approvingly. The collar he'd given you wasn't visible but it would be okay this once if you stuck close to him.

Sans had started up a game of Mario Kart with Frisk and since they were so occupied, you and Papyrus were able to slip out of the house seemingly without them noticing. Not that it really mattered but you didn't want them to become jealous and want to come with you.

As soon as you stepped outside, you took a deep breath of the crisp winter air. While you were grateful for the warmth and safety of the brothers' home, you'd slightly missed being outside, even if it was stupidly cold. The coat was doing a good job of keeping you warm though, at least for now.

Papyrus took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. It was like a switch had been flipped and his demeanor shifted to a much more stoic vibe like when you'd first met him. He motioned for you to follow him and began walking towards the Shop.

You stuck close to him or at least as close as you could without actually touching him. You were pretty sure he wouldn't like it right now if you did. Still, you wouldn't be opposed if he decided to initiate physical contact, but that depended entirely on what kind.

The shop was run by a middle-aged rabbit monster who barely spared either of you a glance, let alone a greeting, when you entered the Shop. You didn't want to risk drawing unwanted attention to yourself but you couldn't help but admire how shiny her fur was.

Surprisingly, the Shop itself had a fairly good selection of items for sale. It was still pretty small but it seemed to include most of the essentials and even some random things. There were a lot of brands you were unfamiliar with, which made sense, but whenever you discovered a brand you did recognize, you felt an odd thrill course through your brain. It was ultimately kind of fun to explore and try to figure out what certain things were supposed to be used for.

Papyrus didn't say much and you didn't either, rather you communicated by briefly signing whenever you wanted to point something out to him. You tried to do so subtly and he seemed to understand you for the most part, granted you weren't trying to have full blown conversations with each other.

You picked out a few things that you knew Frisk would appreciate that weren't expensive as you weren't comfortable feeling like you were taking advantage of Papyrus' generosity. These things included a sketchbook and a set of basic coloured pencils, a few children's books, and a small brown stuffed bunny that smelled like cocoa powder. To your surprise, Papyrus pointed out a Mettaton action figure and while you didn't really like the robot very much, you knew Frisk enjoyed watching his shows.

All in all, you felt happy with your gift choices. No matter what happened, you were certain that Frisk would enjoy their first Gyftmas. Plus, if they were happy, you could be happy too, even if the ache of being apart from your family still lingered.

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #reader #named oc #the hand we've been dealt #thwbd #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

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