#real last name is undisclosed

[creativeashproductions]

Constellations // Wally Clark

IN WHICH: reader is a secret ghost at Split River High School attached to the roof where Wally stumbles onto for solitude. With the new arrival of Maddie Nears a year later a secret comes out.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of a undisclosed medical condition, divorce, angst, and fluff

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Of course it’s a ghost show that revives this blog of writing. Am I surprised? No. Is Julie? Definitely not.

Masterlist

You’d have never anticipated the sound of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl being an okay soundtrack to watching the stars. But you’d also never expected discovering the afterlife so soon. Occasionally, you would hear a mixture of the living and the dead on the ground or through an open window, but you typically stayed on the roof.

It had been the hangout spot for the volleyball team when you were alive. The championship game had been the last time a living foot, other than maintenance, had stepped on this roof.

Most of the team had graduated, and the broken doors that couldn’t hold up against the wind were changed. So now it was only you. Reliving the excitement and stupid teenage decisions. And avoiding Mr. Martin and his afterlife support group because he was unsettling, to say the least.

 “This spot taken?” Your head lolled to the side, finding a fellow dead jock standing above you.

Wally Clark had discovered you on the fifteenth anniversary of his father’s not coming to the Homecoming game. He’d wanted a quiet place and one where Janet wouldn’t follow.

2022 Day After Homecoming Game

The door slammed from the stairwell slammed open, and the muffled sound of sniffling could be heard. Then, the shuffling of sneakers came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Your eyes left the book in your hands to the tall teen towering over you. One of the longer-term ghosts residing at Split River High School.

 “I-I didn’t know anyone used the roof. Are you new?” 

“Nope. Been residing in the afterlife awhile now.” You responded, leaning against the roof’s edge, “Proceed for whatever you were here for.”

Whatever emotional breakdown he was about to have ceased in favour of plopping right down beside you. His head shifting more in your peripheral. He froze when your fingers stopped moving in page-turning.

“Oh, sorry.” He leaned away sheepishly, “Am I annoying you?”

Your brows furrowed, “I’ve read the book a few times. So what brings you to my humble death place.”

“You died up here? Wouldn’t we have heard about-?”

“I didn’t die up here.” You interrupted him to shift to face him fully, “You’re the guy the stadium is named after, right?”

“Wally Clark.” The ghost said, holding his hand out. You exchanged your name in response. Wally slowly repeated your name as if savouring it.

“So seriously, are you okay? You were crying-“

“I died on the football field in 1984. Last night was the first time my dad wasn’t there.” Wally breathed, tilting his head to stare at the sky, “It really hits home that time is going by, and I’m standing still.”

You nudged his knee with your own, “I’m sorry about that. You’re welcome to hang out here to get away.”

“That’d be nice. I feel like all the ghosts expect me to be the outgoing, always happy guy.”

“How was the dance?” You asked as Wally settled on the ground beside you. The ends of his white bowtie hung loosely, and his suit jacket draped across his lap.

“It’s alright. Could have been better.” He spoke, dropping his arm around your shoulders to tug you into his side, “Simon persuaded the DJ to play a couple real hits. One day I’m gonna convince you to go with me.”

Your lips twitched. It was a pastime of Wally’s trying to get you to join in with everyone, especially with the whole drama with the new girl. Thankfully he understood and respected your decision to keep away.

You hadn’t spent years in secret from the support group for no reason. Instead, you existed peacefully in their obliviousness on the roof.

“Nah, I much prefer spending time up here.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Maddie settling in?”

“She’s adjusting as well as she can. Rhonda’s warming up to her. The whole thing she had with Simon is nuts still.”

Maddie Nears, aka the newbie, had shown up suddenly in the afterlife with no memory of her death. Or the events leading up. The pool of suspects is deep, and the desperation to be found alive is strong. 

As he relayed the new development, you tried to think of anything but what you had done today. How do you tell your dead boyfriend something that makes Maddie and Simon’s communication seems like child’s play?

“-What about your day?” Wally questioned, moving so you’re leaning your back against his chest. 

You sighed happily when his arms came to wrap around your shoulders and press his lips to your head. 

“I snuck down to the lost and found for a new book. Mina left a couple things for me too.” 

The friendship you had with the ghost of the stagehand mind boggled Wally. Mina hadn’t left the theatre since the stage light fell on her in the late ’80s. She was eccentric, to say the least, but the only ghost other than Wally that knew about you.

“How? She always screams at us.” Wally chuckled, “Maddie’s the first that cracked through.”

“I got her a script for a production she loves and let her direct me on her birthday.” You hummed, crossing your ankles. Your eyes flinched open in perfect sync with Wally’s tensing up.

“How did you get a script-“Wally trailed off, staring at the stars twinkling under the night sky, “Whoa, wait.”

Wally’s mind flickered to the conversation with Maddie after talking with Mina.

“There’s another ghost. Mina mentioned something about me not being the first ghost outlier. That me talking to Simon isn’t earth shattering.”

Wally’s eyes swept from Ursa Major to your e/c eyes, refusing to lock with his dark brown.

“Can you talk to the living?” Wally demanded, shifting away. The space he created cracks your heart more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Maddie’s the only one. I can just…sorta leave the school grounds?” You trailed off with a wince. The betrayal is a wicked shattering force to your bubble with the former football player.

“…you can leave the school? And not be slammed back to where you died?!” Wally’s fists went straight into his dark strands. The hair being tugged under his stress.

“Because I didn’t technically die here. I had a health condition and was declared clinically dead a few times. So, wherever my heart stopped, and I escaped, that death destination is a place where I could go. It hurts.”

Wally scoffed, blinking, “We spent the last year, and you kept that a secret. You never told me anything about how you died or this huge thing for over a year. I’ve told you everything.”

Your lips parted to respond, but the door was already slamming behind Wally on his descent back into the building. His long legs eating up half the stairwell by the time you’d opened the door.

“Wally! Wally, wait!” You shouted, sprinting down the stairs, “I swear I was going to tell you!”

The expression on his face was enough to freeze you on the last step, “Don’t you have another place to haunt.”

Your mouth dropped open, watching him disappear in the sea of living students still on school grounds. Your eyes find the blue irises of Maddie Nears. Surprise lighting up in her gaze. Your expression twisted before turning on your heel to flee the area.

The last thing you wanted was to talk with the girl you were assigned to show around on her first day. Stupid school tradition pairing a senior with a freshman.

“Hey!”

Maddie popped around the corner to a dead end where you were nowhere to be found. Instead, you’d slipped into a space where you popped up in a different area of Split River with a sheer scream at the pain.

The fight with Wally kept you from returning to the school grounds. You didn’t know a particular ghost was spending hours on the roof anxiously waiting for you. Instead, you were watching your half-sister playing with her Barbie doll in the backyard of your childhood home.

Your arms tugged your legs to your chest. You rarely visited your family home since you watched the paramedics had arrived at 3am four years ago to remove your corpse from the house. 

“Ava!” 

Your head watched the little girl with piggy tails perk up, hearing your shared father’s voice. Your eyes take in the person you miss most in the world. It always hurt seeing the dimness your death had caused in his eyes.

The streaks of grey in his hair and beard showed the grief of losing you had caused. The guilt he barely masked from your sister. 

“Daddy!” Ava beamed, diving into his arms, “Are we taking Sissy flowers?”

Your lip quivered, hearing the adoration coating each word Ava spoke with that lisp. Speech therapy and growing up making the lisp less pronounced. Ava had barely been two when you died. 

The product of your father finding love again with a wonderful person who loved you and happily stepped into a parent role. You’d lucked out with getting a really great step-parent and a half-sister but a shitty hand for health.

“Absolutely. Do you think Sissy would like daisies this time?” Your grin grew, listening to Ava burst into excitement. 

You watched as the car disappeared around the corner before entering the house. Your room barely had any dust from Riley’s insistence on keeping it clean. Sometimes Ava would toddle in with a toy and curl in your bed to sleep.

Your clothing is still hung in the closet, your computer on your desk and all your pictures on the corkboard. Your phone was already safely tucked in your pocket with the charging cord in your backpack from the first visit back to the house.

The last time you visited your home was Ava’s birthday a few months ago. Long enough, the air freshener in your room had changed to the scent you loved during springtime. So it was time to rotate out a few items of clothing you wore. 

Your eyes lingered on the picture of your volleyball team wearing matching homemade t-shirts. A year after you died, they got together for a volleyball charity event in your name. Last you heard, two of them had become nurses, and one was on the career path to research your condition.

The following photo was of your mom holding you in her arms with a beaming grin matching yours. You hoped the move to Hawaii brought that smile back. You hoped Matthew was everything she deserved. You hoped she learnt how to live life again. 

“I miss you.” You murmured, pressing your fingers against her smiling face. 

The tears obscured your vision and the pacing form of your boyfriend when you opened the rooftop door. Your breathing gasping when his arms wrapped tight around your body.

“I am so sorry.” Wally mumbled in the crook of your neck, “Where were you? I’ve been up here for the last three days.”

“I went home.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his chest, “I-I don’t leave often. It hurts when I leave a place I died, like the universe or some bullshit forgets this isn’t the only place I died. So it’s like I’m gonna be spit out back in my death place here before I’m in my destination.”

You barely noticed when Wally tugged you to sit in the same spot he first met and talked to you. The roof’s gravel gives the feeling of digging in your jeans; you gave up trying to explain the metaphysical world a year after your death. Instead, Wally listened as you opened up the pieces of yourself you had kept to yourself.

“I was born healthy and lived healthily for a few years before I started getting sick. It broke my parents’ hearts. By the time I was sixteen, I had spent half my life in hospitals and doctors’ offices. Promises of working treatments and possibly experimental trials.” Your gaze stared off into the distance, “It was just noise by the time I graduated. I knew my body had a couple more miles before it would give out.”

“How are you….”

“I collapsed in the gym. I was clinically dead for a minute, but it was enough for this school to be a death destination. The mall once, the hospital twice, and the talk of transplants came around. Finally, I died in my backyard. It was late, and I was alone outside.”

You vividly remembered screaming beside your corpse. Sobbing when you heard your dad break down, cradling you in his arms. Him calling you your childhood nickname and the one you heard in home videos of ‘baby girl’.

“That’s why you love the roof so much. You died watching the stars.” Wally whispered, tilting his head to kiss your temple. His fingers toying with the sweater with the volleyball team logo.

“I did.” You chuckled, “I have a little sister named Ava. She’s five now. She has minimal memories of me, but her favourite thing is bringing flowers to my grave. This past visit was daisies. My dad remarried when I was in middle school, and my mom a couple years before I died.”

“Your parents still live in Split River?”

“My dad and Riley live in my childhood home with Ava. I think they’re talking about maybe having another baby. My mom took my death the worst. Her older brother died in 1995 with his band members. My mom moved to Hawaii with her husband. Split River had too many memories for her. So when Matt was offered a job there, they left.”

“Ava.” Wally hummed, “I like that name.”

“Maddie knew me.” You offered after laying with Wally for a while in comfortable silence. His fingers draw shapes on your bare back under the sweater. His fingers briefly halted before moving again, “When you were alive, did Split River do this thing where a senior was paired with a freshman?”

“Oh yeah. I got paired up with this insanely smart guy. He went on to found this hugely popular website like that Facebook you showed me.”

“Myspace? You got paired with one of the founders?” You spoke, blinking at his grin, “Well, when I was a senior, I got paired with Maddie. Before her dad died, he worked with mine. So, I knew her at work BBQs.”

“Speaking about Maddie…do you want to re-meet her and meet my friends?”

Your eyes narrowed, “This is dues for keeping the secret.”

“Oh, 100%. Secret stays between us, but yeah, you’re definitely meeting my friends. You should check out the support group, Mr. M isn't too bad.”

Tag List:

@websterssrss

#wally clark x reader #wally clark imagines #school spirits imagines #milo manheim #school spirits 2023 #caitsy and ash productions

[sgiandubh]

The Ascent of Lying

Why, Mordor people? Why do you lie?

Is it stupidity? Hunger Greed for clicks? That #silly, #silly itch to be FIRST? And RIGHT?

The Ascent of Lying started in this fandom with *urv. Her Google sources, her undying obsession for S (and the mandatory hypocrisy that comes along with it), her paltry stories fit for people who never took a flight overseas in their entire life (not something bad at all, but in this context, this makes you incredibly fragile), her remake of the Twilight fandom hullaballoo and her chutzpah.

It continued with Jess, on this side of the fandom: her OTT girlish enthusiasm, her elusiveness IRL and finally, her capitulation and resurrection, under the same name, but with a totally opposed POV. For perhaps you don't know it, but Jess 2.0 has been back since quite a while ago, now making amends about her former strong beliefs. Even taking full responsibility for some 'receipts' (remember the S lemon pin/wedding ring one? she confirmed it was her and it probably was a #silly, horrible lie). How convenient and how depressing, isn't it? Reading her new, sparse blog brought along two firm thoughts: why this need to robotically inform us about her happiness and her change of heart? Also, how many Anons did Jess 2.0 send, since her comeback, to this side of the fandom?

Let this disappointment be my sin, then and let the link to her new hole in the wall remain undisclosed by this page. I have no wish to either start a flaming war, nor give this woman more space than she deserves:

You'll have to deal with the very childish LMAO and this completely irresponsible explanation: 'it was fun to fantasize at the time'. No, lady: you LIED. You lied through your teeth and because you had the privilege of having a thirsty audience, you thoroughly enjoyed this strange avatar of fame, as you say it publicly yourself, now. You even were, most probably, heavily used by ***'s PR and even S (that is a very firm belief), just like another very fragile individual, who switched sides in a far more vocal and pathetic way. That makes for a mixed bag of truths and lies, something I think we all are way too familiar with, by now. But that does not preclude, nor excuse in any shape or form, your eagerness to ahem, 'embellish" a very real love story and twist it according to your naivete and parochial life experience. Morally, you are 0, to me: a sentimental troll, completely on par with *urv.

I could blather on and on about Jess's main competitor, Puffy, too. I think I already wrote enough about her, if only because many believed me to be her latest avatar, which is completely ridiculous, but ridiculous with an agenda. So, did Puffy lie, too? Probably, especially while creating Stella and Deep Throat out of thin air. Let's agree she heavily extrapolated, which is a shame, because some of her analysis is really spot on.

The Ascent of Lying then morphed, along with an US busy social and political agenda being more and more sensitive to the 'fake news" issue, towards the Factchecker Anti blogs, who mimicked neutrality and promoted online stalking to unprecedented levels. Along came people like Meowkabob, who even manufactured their own facts/evidence and released them online. That was perfectly premeditated and done for increased credibility (I have debunked her shite last fall, if you remember), being fully aware that her libel could not be justified only by a prior, questionable, 'London experience', of which we conveniently have no concrete details. The other blog, you all know and sometimes visit: whether she is a PR plant or lonely rider doesn't really matter, yet a stalker and a hypocrite in her own right, too. The fact that both these persons suddenly felt an urge to express themselves during the heavily conspiratorial climate of the first COVID pandemic wave is not innocent at all, I think.

Lying is the real Uncharted Territory of this fandom and one of the main reasons we seldom have nice things to talk about, anymore. I barely scratched its surface and merely stated the obvious. If anything, it only comforted and strengthened my own beliefs, which I always strived to base on personal findings and facts, along with other likeminded people's experience. And I'd rather take the general brunt and simply say 'I don't know", than embellish. Also, when I am wrong, I am wrong: it happens to the best of us and it's always either immediately edited and explained or taken full responsibility for.

What I do know with a reasonable degree of certainty is that These Two are together. And this is all that matters to me, justifying my presence here.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. There's more, but here is just an overview of the sentiments that prompted my next investigation.

#fandom #shitshow

[inkpot909]

First Christmas Together Headcanons: Josuke Higashikata x Reader

Gender neutral Reader written with they/them pronouns. The Reader, and by extension their family, celebrate Christmas. Reader is written to have a positive relationship with their family. Takes place at an undisclosed time after the events of part 4.

M/n = Mother’s name

A/n: Happy holidays, everyone! I hope the end of the year can be a good one for all of you no matter what you celebrate. I hope y’all enjoy. <3

Warning(s): An innuendo; just Tomoko being her usual outspoken-self.

Early in November is the time Josuke began hearing small tidbits concerning your family’s annual Christmas celebrations.

It started out small, and mostly implicit. A passing mention of the holiday’s approaching, not so much about your own traditions specifically. In all honesty, most of the early excitement present in the group came from Koichi and Josuke himself.

Days slowly pass, and Josuke’s ears pick up more tiny nuggets of information. He’s more attentive when listening around this time of year- thinking about what you might want as a gift of course! You also offer another small mention of seeing family- it’s to be expected.

But then, one afternoon, he was hit with a bombshell:

“How do you like it?” Josuke asks, bending at the hip slightly. His gaze snaps down to the cup in your hand, both of his too preoccupied with holding one of his own to point or gesture.

The tips of both your fingers are all tinted, and steady breathing is softly visible in chilled air. All of Morioh is covered in a thin blanket of snow. Patches of ice do nothing to stop small children here and there from rushing about playfully.

At a time like this, when being good is pushed on them like no other, a few kids passing by have given you and Josuke pleasant smiles.

A smile of your own plays on your lips, a small but sincere one that easily reaches your eyes. “It’s real good,” you respond, “Thank you for buying me a cup.”

“Of course,” Josuke hums, leaning back and moving his gaze forward. “I’m not going to drag you around town in this weather without treating you to hot chocolate.”

A chuckle escapes your lips, glancing at him with a knowing look. “You’ll find something good for your mom by the time my fingers freeze off, don’t worry,” you jest.

Josuke’s lips form a thin line, momentarily pressing them together before they hastily spread apart. “I never know what to get her!” he defends, “For a woman like her- it’s always better to plan ahead, okay?”

“Okay, okay…” you chuckle, gaze falling to your feet. “Of course I understand, Josuke.”

“You got people in your family that are difficult to shop for?”

“Sure, I think that’s universal struggle for Christmas shoppers,” you shrug, “At least most of the family I shop for are too tired by the time we open gifts; really takes the edge off.”

Josuke raises a brow, genuine curiousness laced into his tone while asking, “Do you guys open gifts late on Christmas Eve?”

You shake your head. “No, we open them on Christmas morning.”

“What? You get up super early? Don’t worry, I get it… Santa visiting is real exciting…” he replies, lightly poking your arm.

You laugh along with him, once again shaking your head. After the both of you calm down, you finally elaborate, “My family… every year we get together at midnight on Christmas day. Whose house we go to depends on the year, but we have a breakfast together around one in the morning. Usually gifts are last, and usually people begin to leave around five or six in the morning.”

“Really?” Josuke’s eyebrows raise.

“Yeah,” you nod with a smile, “I started going a couple years ago, just because the younger kids in the family don’t always go in order to instead sleep. And, well, you know… to give anyone over the age of thirteen a break.”

Josuke hums, lips pushed out as he mulls over your words. You give him the small amount of time he needs to think about it, taking a sip of your hot chocolate in that moment or two.

“That… actually sounds really fun,” Josuke suddenly says. You turn to him, only to notice him already looking at you with a grin.

Although Josuke has always been happy to spend Christmas with his mother, he’s always wondered what it would be like to spend Christmas with a larger family.

After dumping a couple more questions on you about your Christmas traditions, Josuke offered you a sweet sentiment.

“I hope you have fun! The way you talk about it… gets me all excited for the holiday season, honestly. You’ll have to tell me about your Christmas morning.”

By that time next week, he was nearly knocked off the balance of his feet when you invited him over for celebrations.

You went on to tell him his mother was invited too, about how your family is willing to welcome them both with open arms, and how everyone seems excited to meet your boyfriend.

Josuke himself was still digesting the fact that you invited him to join in on your family’s Christmas celebrations in the first place.

Will your family like him? At least your parents seem to… maybe. Is he not understanding them correctly? Crap; he really hopes not. Surely they have to, they’re offering him to join in on their holiday traditions.

Do you have younger family members? You said that kids don’t really tag along, but it’s always possible. Josuke’s awkward with kids. What would your family- no, what would you think of that?

What if his hair looks off that day? If his hair isn’t holding well Josuke takes it as a sign that his day won’t go well.

His mind was racing a mile a minute, and he hadn’t even told his mother about it yet.

When he finally did bring it up, she declined the offer to go with. She said that she would definitely feel more inclined to get some sleep, but ultimately decided that Josuke could go.

However, it did come with a lecture:

“What are you going to do when you get there?”

“Thank Y/n’s family for inviting me…”

“What are you not going to do?”

“Spend the whole time in her room alone…”

“Nuh uh uh!” Tomoko shakes her head, arms crossed. “That’s not what I said!”

Josuke’s shoulders stiff, rubbing the back of his neck. Noticing the impatient tapping of her foot, Josuke sighs. “No ‘fooling’ around…” he mumbles.

“That’s right! I better not hear anything about the two of you doing anything inappropriate! I have M/n’s phone number! I’m not above showing up and dragging your ass straight home!”

God, he can’t look her in the eye talking about something like this. Although no one else is around to see, Josuke’s gaze moves around nonstop in order to find some semblance of escape from how utterly embarrassing this is.

However, Tomoko is extremely observant, both a blessing and a curse.

“Hey! Look at me!” she says, snapping her fingers.

Hesitating, Josuke finally meets her eyes once more.

“I’m serious, Josuke,” she continues, “You’re going to a family event- so make sure you’re on your best behavior. I expect you home by six thirty, got it?”

Josuke nods, yet still cannot help but let a huff escape his nostrils. “Yes, yes… I get it,” he responds.

Sighing, Tomoko unfolded her arms and to instead place her hands on her hips. Leaning her head back, she tells him in a softer voice, “Josuke… I know you’re getting older; believe it or not I do want you to enjoy that.”

“I know, Mom, I know…”

There’s a pause, Josuke internally digesting what his mother was getting at. What exactly’s going on in her head, it’s anyone’s guess. He doesn’t often dwell on such a thing, anyway.

“If you’re going to mess around, don’t do it at a family get together. Teenagers are teenagers, but I really think that-“

“Mother! Please!”

It was awkward and long-winded, but one lecture from his mother later and he was given the “okay” to spend Christmas morning with you and your family.

…Oh, god, he’s going to spend Christmas morning with you and your family.

Now that he was given the “go ahead,” Josuke is completely stuck in his head. His mindset is less worried about what your family would think of him (although that still makes him a bit nervous), but more curious about what this could mean for the two of you.

It’s… a big step, right? It’s certainly got to mean something. Meeting parents is one thing, but extended family is a whole other can of worms. Regardless of your relationship with them, that takes a lot of trust, right?

Josuke, while usually calm and collected, isn’t completely detached from getting nervous from time to time. When it pertains to you and the relationship you share, he’s steadily growing more used to experiencing new things.

Yes, wants to reach this milestone with you, but now that it’s steadily approaching… there’s no use in denying how his palms sweat thinking about it.

Both Koichi and Okuyasu see it as being a big deal as well.

Koichi approaches giving Josuke advice calmly, speaking from a place of understanding. Meeting Yukako’s family caused him a lot of stress, but assured Josuke that it’s really all in his head. That if he can find it in himself to relax a bit, it’ll be no problem. More than that, since he’ll be with you, it’ll likely ground him. At the very least, you know Josuke well enough to know how to be there for him if he needs it.

Okuyasu… well, bless him, does more harm than good with his approach. Going off about how important this is, and how it may dictate the future of his relationship with you. Just hearing Okuyasu go on, Josuke couldn’t help but bite his lower lip. He knows Okuyasu means well, as usual. But if it were coming from anyone else, Josuke would likely hit them.

Then, there’s you.

When Josuke told you about his nerves on the matter, December had just begun. The end of the year is moving closer, and in the distant is the anniversary of the two of you getting together.

That alone is enough to make his heart jump ten feet into the air.

You soothe his anxieties like no other. With soft, knowing words that travel straight to his heart. It isn’t just your words, but also how well they sound in the tones of your voice. Just two minutes into the conversation and Josuke is reminded why he shouldn’t be nervous. And the more he thinks about it practically, the more he relents that he can’t wait to spend Christmas morning with you.

It’s a little cheesy, to be sure. But if there’s anytime that people are allowed to be a little cheesy, Josuke figures it would be the holidays.

A couple more weeks pass, and Josuke finds himself getting ready late on Christmas Eve. Tomoko’s already turned in for the night, having suggested Josuke drink some coffee before heading out.

But giddiness is good enough at keeping him awake.

Yes, he plays some video games after getting ready, but it’s mostly to pass the time more than anything else. Just as he passes a level, he hears a soft knock coming from the front door.

Josuke paused for a moment after opening the door, taking in your appearance. Yes, he’s seen you dressed up before and vise versa. However, it never fails to leave him speechless.

“You look amazing...” he softly tells you, disregarding a usual greeting in order to immediately voice exactly what’s on his mind. The delivery is gentle and carries genuine tones that touch your heart.

The journey back to your house is possibly the most nervous he feels throughout the duration of the Sure Yes, he’s met your parents a handful of times before, but never talks with them for a long period of time. Regardless, within minutes, Josuke calms into his usual chatty self.

By the time the both of you are walking through the front door, a smile is present on his face.

Although not necessarily nervous; Josuke is a bit overwhelmed by how many people he meets throughout the night.

Older relatives that hold power within the structure of the family show genuine kindness yet put forward many questions trying to form an understanding of his character. Aunts and Uncles that tease the two of you about how there’s no use searching for a mistle toe- claiming there was no time to set one up. Cousins of all ages staying within their own closed-off group. A couple of younger relatives that seemingly wish to hang beside Josuke the entire night, in awe of someone totally new.

It is... a lot.

But what Koichi said proved to be true. The more Josuke put his anxious thoughts behind him, the better things turned out to be for him. At least, as far as his own worry is concerned. It turned out to be a lot easier than he initially expected.

And maintaining a relaxed attitude is not only where Josuke lives most his life, but thrives. It’s in that frame of mind that others around the two of you talk to you both happily as normal.

Plus, what situation isn’t further improved with food?

A vast array of breakfast foods litter countertops all over your house’s kitchen. The enticing smell of food is so prominent Josuke swears he can see the aroma rolling off organized plates.

While Josuke is internally joyful at the positive interactions he’s having with your family throughout the breakfast, you are quite pleased yourself.

The small gleam present in your gaze is nothing short of gleeful puppy love.

They adore him; you knew they would. But to see it actually unfold... to see Josuke joke along with your younger relatives... to see Josuke indulging in conversations with your older relatives... it’s downright heartwarming:

Sticking a mouthful of syrup-covered waffles in his mouth, Josuke keeps his attention between two of your relatives having a conversation. Not five minutes before, one of the two told him a story from when you were very young. So young, in fact, you don’t at all remember the event yourself.

Planting your elbow on the tabletop, you rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Thoughtfully, you glance to a preoccupied Josuke.

A smile has been present on his face almost the entire time. The expression mirrors your own throughout the first couple of hours of Christmas morning. You just can’t help yourself; the way he’s so casually managed to get along with anyone roundaboutly reminds you why you’re with him in the first place.

Feeling your gaze on him, Josuke turns. His eyes are widened, like a deer in headlights, and his mouth is still stuffed with an amount of food that makes his cheeks puff out. “Hmm?” he hums, not daring to open his mouth and speak. You watch him begin to chew hastily, doing little to conceal your amusement.

With one large gulp, you watch his cheeks deflate back to normal. “Yes?” he finally asks, smiling.

You open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by one of your younger cousins rushing over to Josuke’s side opposite to you. She’s bubbly and ecstatic for the holiday, likely having begged her parents to finally let her come along this year.

And much like the other younger members of the family present, she’s convinced that Josuke’s just the coolest.

“Josuke! Josuke!” she giggles, tugging on the sleeve of his arm. He quickly turns to her, maintaining his grin without hesitation.

“Yes?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Y’know what Santa’s bringing me this year?”

“Hmm… I dunno…” he rubs his chin, giving her a quizzical look, “Wanna give me a hint?”

“An instrument!” she squeaks.

“A musician, huh?” Josuke chuckles, and the little girl beams at his observation. “Hmm, how about… a saxophone?”

She shakes her head “no.”

“A ukulele?”

“Nope! Keep guessing!”

“What about… a harmonica?”

With a giggle, your cousin once again shakes her head.

Josuke throws his head back, dramatically slapping a hand to his forehead. “Please tell me!” he pleads, “I can’t guess!”

She bounces on the balls of her feet, and folds her arms around her back. “A drumset,” she finally confirms, holding her head held high.

“Really?” Josuke asks, matching her enthusiasm. “But how do you know he’s gonna bring it to you?”

“Because I asked for it!”

On the other side of the table, her mother clears her throat and comments, “She’s been asking for it for four months now.”

“Four months?” Josuke glances at the woman briefly before bringing his attention back to the little girl. “Well, now, Santa’s gotta know what you want for sure.”

Nodding gleefully, the girl’s mother beckons her over, subtly allowing Josuke to get back to eating. Earlier, she had nagged at her daughter about “hanging on him.” Not that he really minded much, though, finding it endearing.

And it isn’t until he turns back to you, immediately making eye contact once more, that it dawns on him that he’s quite endearing to you too.

Time flies by rather fast, and soon enough everyone’s gathered in the living room to open presents.

Considering the number of people present in the household, Josuke wasn’t surprised that the gifts opened were strictly the ones given by fellow family members instead of any sort of “Santa” gifts.

Regardless, he sat up straight once you finally reached for the gift he’d got you. Pride was written all over his face when you even complimented the wrapping he apparently did “all by himself” (Crazy Diamond did it for him).

It’s something small and sweet.

If you like wearing jewlery, he saved-up money in order to get you something he knew you’d love. If not, he instead opts to buy you something you’ve explicitly had your eye on for a while. Regardless of either, his face turned viciously red when you engulfed him in a tight hug in response.

Your own gift to him was something he would’ve likely cried tears of joy over if he weren’t surrounded by people he’d just met that night.

It’s a new pair of shoes, made by one of his favorite Italian brands. Just by the way he looked at them, you thought his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. Similarly to you the hug you gave him, he wrapped his arms around you appreciatively. You relished in the feeling, ignoring some of your family members’ teasing.

Experiencing something this new and anticipated with Josuke melts everything else away. It’s more than enough to finally push you into proposing something to him that’s been on your mind all morning.

“Josuke,” you whispered to him, taking advantage of the fact others were still preoccupied unwrapping gifts, “I think I’m going to walk you home instead of having my parents drop you off.”

He thought he was going to faint right then and there. Yes, he would technically be going against his mother’s wishes by doing so, but just the feeling of your gentle breath brushing against his ear leaves him defenseless.

Without a second thought, he agrees:

Walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, you and Josuke walked back to his house in a comfortable silence. The walk is short enough to justify doing so to your already exhausted parents, but long enough to let you two thoroughly enjoy being alone together.

Turning a corner, his house finally comes into view. And although your chilled fingertips are grateful to make it halfway through your walk, your heart drops.

He stops you at his front door, gently setting down the box containing his present on the paved stoop.

“Thank you for letting me spend Christmas with you,” he clears his throat, setting his gaze on your hand he’s still holding. Reaching out his other, he sandwiches it between both of his. “I had a lot of fun…”

His voice is soft, almost hesitant. If you were standing back a yard, you doubt you’d be able to hear him.

“Me too…” you nod, smiling.

Knowing him well enough by now to already know what he’s trying to get at, you use your free hand to cup his cold cheek. Leaning forward, you both press your lips against each other. Despite the chilliness, his lips are as inviting as ever.

Wrapping an arm around your lower back, he pulls you a step closer. The action deepens the kiss, lips moving against one another with vigor but not enough to be aggressive. A quiet sigh escapes his mouth, head light and spinning with bliss.

The kiss ends far too soon for either of your liking, but shy smiles and gentle giggles still fill the otherwise silent space after pulling away.

“Y’know…” he clears his throat, “My mother and I usually tend to wake up late on Christmas at this point. And if you wanna call your parents you can always use our phone, and uhm…”

“What’re you getting at Josuke?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Uhm…” he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “Do you… wanna maybe stay over? We can just crash on the couch if you’d prefer. And again, you can call your family to make sure it’s okay. My mother’ll be mad but at only at me, so if you-“

“Josuke,” you cut him off, laughing. “Yes! Yes… I’d love to.”

Sighing in relief, he quickly whirls around and fumbles a bit trying to unlock the front door. “Good… would hate for you to freeze out here, after all!” he says, prompting you to giggle once more.

Josuke was in a hell of a lot of trouble later that morning, Tomoko nearly having a heart attack in mere surprise walking in on the both of you curled up on the couch. To him, it’s well worth getting to snuggle with you in the early hours of Christmas morning.

#this fic is brought to you by that one alvin and the chipmunk christmas song #johnny’s work #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #josuke higashikata x reader #koichi hirose #okuyasu nijimura #diamond is unbreakable #diu #anime #manga #christmas #fluff #headcanons #established relationship #fanfiction

[pedgito]

Cute prompt idea: Vamp!Eddie having a soft spot for paranormal investigator! reader (can be gn! or open to other pronouns)

Also lovely writing! 😍

author’s note: uh, this was meant to be short but y’all know how that goes with me. it took on a life of it’s own and i hope it isn’t completely off track from what you were requesting.

cw: sfw, vampire!eddie, gn!reader, all types of paranormal creatures exist, gang is basically monster hunters, dad!hopper vibes, eddie is just sweet and curious, mentions of injury/blood, fighting off ghouls and use of weapons, blood drinking (not how you think), light/silver still effect vampires, this is just super cute and a break from my smut momentarily

word count: 4k

A normal work shift consisted of coming in, grabbing your assignment for the night, grabbing your gear, and heading on your way to whatever undisclosed location was sealed inside the folder. It was an easy routine to fall into; despite how dangerous the job actually was, you were good at, great even.

It’s part of the reason why Hopper chose you to train the new recruits—that and Dustin couldn’t be trusted with the new ones, he was incredibly skilled at scaring them away within the first few hours and it quickly turned into a problem. Hopper needed staff and staff didn’t exist whenever Dustin was training so, the responsibility fell on you.

“I’ve got a new one for you tonight,” He announces from the moment your foot crosses the threshold, his wide shoulder and head peeking out of his office door, “he should be here any minute.”

“You’re kidding?” You ask with a reasonable amount of disbelief, having only finished training someone last week. “I just finished up with Wheeler.”

“And he’s already doing great,” Hopper points out, “I just sent him off on his first solo and he’s loving it—says he learned a lot from you.”

You really hated being good at your job and loving it just as much—it meant that you were more inclined to feel obligated when asked to do things, like training another new employee for back to back weeks, which was a tedious enough task in itself.

“I really deserve a vacation,” You tell him, “or a raise—even a thank you would be great.”

“You know how much I appreciate you, kid.” Hopper says.

And you do, he’s always treated you like family from the beginning and that’s never changed. You always had a place to call home with him.

You sigh, loud and dramatic, “Okay—well, is there anything I should know?”

Hopper’s face changes slightly, contemplating his next words.

“Come here,” He nods toward the interior of his office, “you’ll probably want to take a look at his file.”

The red flags shot off in your mind immediately, but your feet moved for you, following him into his office, letting him slip the Manila file into your hands as you sifted through.

“Edward Munson,” You test the name on your tongue, glancing down to see the preferred shortened version of his first name, “—oh, Eddie. Eddie Munson? Am I saying that right?”

Hopper nods, pointing toward the bottom of the file, a portion that was usually left blank. It’s only been filled one other time, long before you, and it wasn’t something that Hopper took on lightly. There had to be a reason.

Your eyes widen, shoving the file back at him quickly, as if you’d been burned. “A vampire?” You say seethingly, “Have you lost your mind?”

“Look—the kid means well.” Hopper tells you, “I know his uncle—the boy has a good head on his shoulders; just a lot of unfortunate circumstances he’s been involved in. I told him I’d do him a favor—we can at least try it out.”

“And after last time?”

“It’s the last time I ever hire a werewolf during the week of a full moon,” Hopper admits his wrongdoing, but lowers his voice to level with you, “—just give it a chance, for me?”

“You’re lucky I don’t hate you.” You say begrudgingly, eyes narrowing. You pull at your bag, the weight of it slipping off your shoulders. “Is that all?”

“Don’t bring it up.” Hopper warns, “Kid gets real sensitive about sometimes. He’ll talk about it if he wants to.”

“You know I’m dealing with ghouls tonight, right?” You tell him, feeling that he should know, considering how much he despises the supernatural beings. “The ones out at the cemetery that we’ve been trying to contain for weeks.”

“Sounds like fun,” He grimaces, “seems like you’ll both be getting a real hands-on experience.”

You smile smugly, “Don’t worry, Hop—I’ll make sure to bring you back a souvenir.”

He sips at his coffee, fluffy mustaches covering his top lip, “It better be a goddamn keychain and not another severed hand.”

You shrug indifferently, “I’ll surprise you.”

“And I’ll put you on cleanup duty for a month.”

It was an empty threat. He’d never be able to go through with it, he relied on you far too much.

Eddie is entirely too curious and touches everything, like those annoying kids with sticky fingers that love to find their way into everyone’s business. He asks too many questions, he talks far too often, and you almost forget that giant blinking red sign in your head that keeps screaming ‘Vampire’—nothing about him gives it away.

Well, maybe the outfit, the hair—but definitely not the personality. The ones you’ve met were always brooding, pensive, dealing with ventures of guilt and trauma. Eddie was brand new, practically a baby, fresh-face and untouched.

You smack at his hand with the tip of your flashlight, clinking against the dense metal of his rings. His eyebrows furrow, making a small noise of disapproval as he pulls his hand back.

“Stop touching everything.” You warn him, sorting through the gear in the back of your van, gathering the supplies you needed on your belt and vest, watching on as he struggled with his own. “Some of this stuff is used for lethal force.”

“You think they’d make these things a little more practical.” Eddie complains, pulling desperately at the clips, trying to force them to connect around his chest.

“It’s because you grabbed the smallest size.” You deadpan, dropping what you were doing to assist him, yanking at the clips until they click together, watching as his back straightened in discomfort.

“Well, good thing I don’t need to breathe,” Eddie comments idly, pulling a soft laugh from your chest. You weren’t sure why you were expecting him to be secretive about it. He was far too giddy to hide it, he was being himself.

“We can switch.” You offer, already pulling at your vest before he answers, watching as he silently unclipped his own in the process. You switch without a word, and the fit is more comfortable, for him, at least. “Is that better?”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

It was only one minor inconvenience in the giant problem that was your life; you’d survive. You shoved the supplies into the vest, handing Eddie a flashlight before taking one for yourself.

“I don’t need one,” Eddie tells you, holding the flashlight up with a loose grip, “I can see fine.”

You pointedly shove it back toward his chest, “It’s not for you,” You say flippantly, “just take the damn flashlight.”

Eddie eyes you for a moment, trying to decipher you. He’d always been good at reading people, but you were giving him a harder time than he’d expected.

“Sorry,” He apologizes, clicking the flashlight a few times, light shining in your eyes obnoxiously, “—oh shit, I-“

You sigh through your nose deeply, eyes falling shut to calm yourself.

You speak slowly, face scrunching up in focus, “I’m begging you. Please stop.”

Eddie sets the flashlight down carefully, hands crossed in front of him as he stands back, forcing his curious hands to halt.

“When we get in there I need you to listen to me,” You tell him, trying to emphasize the severity as much as possible, “you might not be able to die so easily, but I can.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

For some reason, you believe him—but his giant, doe eyes have seen nothing yet; they’re unscarred to the wonders of things that go bump in the night, aside from himself. There’s too many things discovered and undiscovered, and even you didn’t know everything. But, the job was serious—and you knew he’d take it as such.

“Let’s hope so.”

The walk to the cemetery is long and quiet, for the most part, aside from the few attempts at small talk that Eddie tries.

“So, how often do you deal with—“ Eddie pauses, thinking of the name, the word slipping his mind.

He takes too long, “Ghouls?” You finish for him.

Eddie nods, curls bouncing against his shoulders. He smiles a lot, too—it’s only slightly alarming because his fingers are so prominent and he doesn’t try to hide them.

“Not often—only once a year, usually,” You tell him, “and they don’t always show up so close to Hawkins, but we’ve been tracking them for a while and they’re supposed to feed tonight.”

Eddie nods slowly, following your words carefully.

“They eat the dead.” You explain, earning an odd look from Eddie, it’s almost poetic. “Don’t worry—you’re safe. Besides,” You stick up the flashlight, shining the light back in his face, “I’ll be there to defend your honor.”

Eddie winces, shoving the light away gently. He blinks rapidly, like he’s struggling to see and you realize your mistake, quickly shoving the flashlight back into its secured spot on your vest.

“Shit—“ You start to apologize, “I didn’t mean to hurt you with that. Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie lies, rubbing at his irritated eyes, “just burns a little—I’ll be okay.”

You feel bad and you hate it, because it feels like every moral in your body is turning against itself. In his defense, he was just as much a capable person as you, albeit some differences—and it wasn’t unusual for people like his kind to meld into and function in society to some capacity. It was new to the world, but it worked—he wasn’t the first vampire you’ve met, he wouldn’t be the last—but they usually ended up on the other end of spike after trying to kill you, so yes, things were a little different.

You take a step, slipping on the crack in the concrete as you’re lost in thought, nearly tumbling toward certain death, but Eddie catches you, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other grilled tightly on your bicep, pulling you upright and against him.

“Are you sure you should be out right now?” Eddie asks, “You seem distracted.”

You nod gently, not asking him to let go, his hands squeezing you reassuringly, just a soft touch that would go unnoticed if you weren’t so hyper aware of his hands on you, freezing cold to the touch.

“It’s a lot to deal with in one night,” You admit honestly, “This is more high risk than most cases and Hopper wanted me to train you—it’s literally your first, plus you’re a—“

“You can say it.” Eddie says, head tilting to meet yours as you look up at him. “You don’t have to feel weird about it.”

“I kill people like you,” You say softly, “all the time.”

“I’m sure they deserve it, though,” He offers, which couldn’t be truer, “I don’t want to hurt people—or you, at least.”

You smile awkwardly, eyes wandering to his lingering hands.

“You can let me go now.”

Eddie pulls away quickly, hands settling at his side.

“My bad,” He excuses, “—are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod quickly, walking the rest of the path until you meet the gate closing off the cemetery, pulling at the chain wrapped around the only entrance you have to get inside.

“Did you grab the bolt cutters like I asked?” You turn to Eddie, catching the telling and guilty look on his face as soon as your eyes fall on him. “Eddie, come on—“

“I got it, I got it,” He says defensively, nudging you out of the way to grasp the chain in his hand, but the moment he touches the chain he’s pulling back with a shout of pain, “—fuck, are you kidding me?”

“You didn’t think that one through, did you?” You ask, pulling at the tightly bound chain. Eddie’s face falls, staring down at his wounded hands, healing slowly in front of you. “Works well, doesn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie scoffs, hissing slightly at your touch, hands tracing over the slowly healing scar on his palm, “I’ve never—I didn’t think that was real.”

“Silver is pretty effective,” You tell him, his skin now fully healed as you let go, placing his hands back at his side, “it can take down a full grown man, if needed.”

“Good to know,” Eddie laughs weakly, balling his hands into fists a few times, testing that his skin was back to normal, “—so how are we getting in?”

“You forget the bolt cutters—figure it out.” You tell him. It was one of the best ways to teach, you’ve learned, allowing them to problem solve in situations that seemed impossible; it always spurred the best ideas.

“Well, I could turn into my bat form and fly over the gate.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You ask with wide eyes, “Is that actually a thing? I thought it was a myth.”

“You’re so gullible.” Eddie laughs, pointing toward the top of the gate where a few spikes had been worn down and left a convenient opening, “We’re climbing, right?”

“Bingo.” You smile, “You gotta lose the jacket, though. I’m not ruining mine.”

Eddie mumbles begrudgingly, shifting off his vest to reach his jacket, tossing the thick piece of clothing at you. You toss the jacket over the edge, pulling until it sufficiently covers the sharp edges.

“Can you do it?” Eddie asks, nodding toward the ledge, hands poised to help lift you. You shove him away, assuring him you’re fine. You push off with your feet, barely missing the edge—you sigh, take a breath, and jump once more. Eddie stifles a quiet laugh beside you, knowing that your pride was too high to ask now that you already denied his help. He’s silent when his hands grasp your hips, careful as he squeezes and lifts you up. You freeze, letting out a soft noise of surprise as he pushes you far enough to where you can grab the ledge, pulling and throwing yourself over with a little less grace that you intend, flustered by how easy he was able to lift you up.

Eddie climbs the gate in two movements, a large leap as he grabs the ledge and flips over with practiced precision. You’ve never seen anything like it before, his feet hitting the ground simultaneously. You huff in annoyance, watching as he yanks his jacket down, shifting his hand through the gate to grab at his vest, the biggest, smuggest smile on his face.

“Show off,” You remark, earning another soft laugh from him, “just hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what to expect walking into the nest, but it’s eerily silent, like Hopper got it wrong and they hadn’t migrated here for the winter, but then you’re being blindsided, thrown off to your side and away from Eddie—leaving him to handle the hoard of them blindly, your body colliding with the stone buried in the ground, collapsing weakly onto the grass.

“What do I do?” Eddie panics, pulling the large machete from his belt, swinging wildly in an attempt to fend them off, your vision blurry as you search for him, focusing on his voice.

“Their heads,” You shouts, clutching your side to dull the steering pain, hand wetting with what you can only assume is blood, shirt tacky and damp as it stuck to your skin, “cut off their heads!”

There’s a loud commotion, screaming from Eddie and the hoard of ghouls, you can’t focus, the pain in your side is more overwhelming than anything you’ve felt. You close your eyes, attempting to breath through the pain—you hear the cracking of foliage behind you, an all too familiar feeling creeping up your spine as the creature leaps over your back, ghastly and horribly smelling, you push and fight, trying to keep it as constrained as you can while you search for your knife, only realizing once you find it that it’s the source of your pain, lodge in your side, just under the skin. It couldn’t have been more of a freak accident, somehow managing to miss anything fatal, but the pain was still unbearable.

“Eddie—help, please,” You plead in a moment of vulnerability, teeth gritting in pain as you groaned, using every ounce of strength to fight the thing off, only finding relief when the ghoul is being pulled off of your forcefully, shoved on the ground as Eddie shoved the machete through its skull, the disgusting squelch making your stomach turn, “—thank you.” You force out through a weak breath, clutching your side as you try to rise to your knees, only to be subdued by Eddie, gently forced back down.

“Don’t move,” He warns, hands hovering over your side, your own hands stained in blood, “you’re bleeding too much.”

“I’m sorry,” You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but it feels right in the moment, given the circumstance, “I can wrap myself up—or try—I don’t want it to bother—bother you.”

You can see his pupils dilate larger, eyes focused on the blood pooling against the ground, but aside from that, he’s calm. It’s unlike any other interaction you’ve had with someone of his mind—but Eddie had contradicted most of what you knew, even in the small amount of time you’ve interacted.

“I can help you,” Eddie suggested, “but only if you’re okay with it.”

Your eyes narrow, urging him to continue.

“I guess you’re unfamiliar with how healing works,” Eddie assumes, pressing his hand firmly to add pressure to your wound. He can hear the blood flowing through your body, the sound rushing through his ears, the smell invading his nose—normally he’d jump at the first hint of blood, feed on whatever unfortunate stranger was around at night, but there was nothing like this—he didn’t want to hurt you at all, he wanted to fix you, help you—he’s only ever done it once and he knows it works, but the process is…intimate, “are you?”

You shake your head weakly.

“My blood, it’ll heal you.” Eddie explains, “but you have to…”

He can’t say the words, seeing the way your face creases, a sudden realization hitting you. “No—no way.”

“It’s safe, I promise”. Eddie says, “But, we can always call Hopper—“

“No, no!” You stammer, shaking your hand out in disapproval, the movement makes you wince, your hand clasping over his own where it’s pressed to your side, the sharp metal of the knife pressing sharply into your side. “God—I need to take it out.”

“If I take it out, you’re going to bleed even more,” Eddie explains, “Look—I get how weird it is—I do, but I promise it’s safe. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’re not sure why you trust him so easily—maybe it’s his eyes, so innocent and pure, like there wasn’t a lie he could tell.

“Do it,” You say quickly, tired of lingering on the thought, “just do it.”

Rip the bandaid off, stop the pain.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, taken back by your sudden agreement.

You nod furiously, the pain and blood loss starting to take toll, feeling yourself go lightheaded and slumped, moaning softly.

You watch as Eddie pulls his sleeve back, the sharp point of his teeth digging into his wrist, carefully angling his arm as he pulls away, leading it toward your mouth slowly. You can see the blood seeping out—his other hand coming to cup the back of your head gently, tilting it back comfortably until your lips meet his skin.

“Slowly,” Eddie intructs, “just suck—but be careful.”

Your brows furrowed in concentration, lips pursed to suck gently—you’re not sure what you’re expecting, but it’s not the taste that hits your tongue initially; sweet and tangible, like a drug that would easily become addicting. It’s not bitter, or copper-tasting, and it throws you for a loop. It’s fuzzy, the feeling as it flows down your throat, your free hand comes to wrap around his wrist, eyes squeezing shut as you sucked harder, whining at the sensation, a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

“Hey, hey,” His voice is soft, but stern, “slow down—you don’t need that much.”

You pull back with a heat to your face, feeling embarrassed. Eddie releases the back of your hand, pulling quickly at the knife—you are numb to the pain, body already trying to heal itself as he throws the knife to the ground, letting it clammer loudly against the concrete.

“That was intense.” You admit honestly, letting Eddie wipe the stray string of blood away with his thumb, using the pad of his sleeve to wipe your mouth clean. It only makes the embarrassment worse.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Feels—fuzzy, tingly, I guess.” You tell him, “Like a high, maybe?”

Eddie makes a subtle face of surprise, laughing quietly at your description. “Well, looks like you’re all good now—like it never happened.”

“I’m not gonna end up turning in my sleep, am I?” You ask jokingly, letting Eddie pull you to your feet slowly.

“No,” He chuckles, “I meant what I said. I wouldn’t try to trick you. But—you might feel weird for a day or two, it’ll fade.”

“Oh—okay,” You nod, glancing around at the mess of bodies lying about, left for you both to clean up. “Well, we should probably finish up the job—Hopper is probably wondering where we’re at already.”

“Are you going to tell him—“

“No.” You respond immediately. “No one needs to know about it—or that I got hurt. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods in understanding, releasing you when he thinks you’re stable enough, “our secret—got it.”

You smile softly and Eddie does too, you’ve never felt more nervous.

When you finally drive back, it’s at the peak of early morning, sun still down and most of everyone has gone aside from Hopper, who practically lived at the place—Eddie grabbed most of the gear for you, lugging it in his arms as you followed closely behind.

“Looks like you two had a night,” He comments, stepping out of his office to watch your two frazzled, worn out faces walk down the hall, “how’d he do?”

“He’s alright,” You shrug and Eddie laughs to himself, continuing down the hall as Hopper stops you in your tracks, “—what?”

“You alright, kid?” He asks, “I know how rough ghouls are—you don’t have to play it down.”

You shake your head, “No, we’re good—he’s really curious but…he’s got potential.” You tilt your head slightly, watching down the hallway as Eddie turns the corner, “If you want to pair him up with anyone—it can be me, he’s not as bad as I hoped for.”

“Told you,” He teases, poking your arm gently. “—must’ve really had an effect on you, though.”

You shrug, “Someone’s gotta control the chaos,” You say, “and sticking him with Dustin is an accident waiting to happen.”

Eddie laughs quietly down the hall, unbeknownst to you as he listens in on your conversation with Hopper.

“Alright, if you say so.” Hopper relents, hands held up in defeat.

You weren’t sure how or why, but Eddie had quickly snuck himself into the soft spot of your heart, your thoughts—and maybe it was the blood, or the general effect that Eddie had on people, but you were fine with that.

“Looks like I’m out of here for the night,” Eddie comments, sneaking up on you two easily, enjoying the startled looks on your face, he smiles, “—made a good impression, I hope.”

“You’ll survive another day.” You tell him snarkily, “I guess.”

“Good—now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a coffin waiting for me at home—“

“Okay—now you’re just gloating.” You say tiredly, turning on your heels with a quick wave to Hopper, a smug smile written all over his face.

“I’m not joking.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

You smile, catching his bashful grin as you shake your head at his terrible flirting. You were game, fortunately for him.

“Yeah, it is.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #vampire!eddie #my writing

[mitsies]

HIIIII hi ^__^ can u pls write an inumaki fic where he's a little snooky shmoopy poopoo booboo bear baefie cookie cake sugarhoneyplumplum pop thank u!

smooches4six

inumaki meets the person he’s supposed to marry for the first time.

inumaki was the opposite of thrilled when he discovered that he was to be wed to a stranger. he was less than thrilled when he’d discovered it was you. 

a prim, proper heir to the kamo clan- a powerful sorcerer- a prodigal student over at the kyoto branch of jujutsu high- and the definition of a ‘type a’ suck-up. 

inumaki’s watchful eyes followed you as you interacted with the elders of his clan and your own at your first meeting with impossible levels of respect- your traditional clothes and unrelenting smile only further painting the picture of you in his mind.

“hello, inumaki, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance today. i hope we get along,” was the first thing you said to him, again accompanied by your practiced grin. you took a seat primly amongst your fellow clansmen. inumaki could not see how your smile did not meet your eyes and your fingers clenched the hem of your sleeve with an undisclosed emotion.

inumaki responded with a respectful nod and the elders cooed at how cute they would be, commending each other on their prime match making skills and how this would be good for morals and clan relations.

“i think it’s best if we leave them alone for a few moments,” an inumaki spoke up, being one of the many who didn’t receive cursed speech and actually could, “so they can get to know each other without us hovering.”

the elders of the kamo clan, your relatives, who were overseeing your meeting, exchanged pensive looks. “i find it rather unbecoming to do so, i’m afraid,” one said, the rest nodding in agreement.

this time, inumaki didn’t miss how your placid expression flickered with something akin to anger, something darker- he was intrigued. he wanted to know more.

luckily for him, the inumaki clan was much more relaxed in tradition than the kamo clan- they kept pushing for your and his freedom and eventually, the other side relented.

as the two groups departed from the designated meeting point of the inumaki clan’s property, he watched something like relief glass over your eyes. once the last person had left, effectively leaving to two of you alone with each other, he watched in complete awe as your formality utterly dissolved.

you sunk into your seat, the fine china cup and plate you were handed at some point clinking against each other as you allowed yourself to relax.

“thank god,” you finally spoke, a smile returning to your face- only this time, it was different. it was real. “they’re finally gone. i was suffocating in there.”

inumaki snorted. he wasn’t expecting this. after a few seconds, you rose back up- this time in a more leisurely manner, with one leg crossed over the other and your hand thrumming against your thigh like a second heartbeat. 

“let’s just get this over with.” the boy tipped his head to the side curiously and you sighed. “okay, well- you know my name, i’m sure. and i know yours. but i want to make one thing clear-” you raise a finger in his face- “i want nothing to do with you, or this ludicrous marriage, or my abhorrent clan.” 

a switch had flipped in you and it had flipped something in him, too- he was looking at you in a new light as you continued your rant.

“i assume you feel the same. we’re sorcerers, for god’s sake, not pawns- but it’s not up to us, so i guess we’re stuck with each other for now.” you weren’t focused on inumaki. if you were, maybe you’d see the stars beginning to speckle his eyesight as he looked at you, falling in love just a little.

when you finally returned his intense gaze, you felt something in you soften. one eye remained closed, as to not activate your technique, but you met his own eye and relented, if only just a bit.  “though, i suppose it could be worse,” your admission was paired with you shutting your eyes again and turning your gaze away. 

you were quiet before continuing, and inumaki listened attentively, not missing anything this time- his sudden infatuation taking even him by surprise.

“if i were to be betrothed to a near-stranger, i’d rather it be you than anyone else.” you were hardly even talking to him, your brow furrowing as you lost yourself in thought. but inumaki felt a rush of something warm and hot as his cheeks warmed and his heartbeat stuttered.

inumaki was the opposite of thrilled when he discovered that he was to be wed to a stranger. he was less than thrilled when he’d discovered it was you.

but now? he was looking forward to it, just a little.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge x reader #toge inumaki x you #inumaki fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu inumaki #inumaki #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #toge x y/n #toge x you #reader insert

[dekariosclan]

People I’d Like to Know Better

Very kind of you to ask @the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep! Thank you :)

Last Song: Undisclosed Desires - Muse

Favorite Color: Aqua blue/green

Currently Watching: Honestly I just cycle through old BBC romances like it’s my job to memorize them lol! Currently rewatching BBC North & South and it’s still *chef’s kiss*

Last Movie/TV Show: Better Call Saul. And now that I think about it, Jimmy had SOOO many Gale qualities 😂 Ahhhh

Spicy/Savory/Sweet: Spicyyyy

Relationship Status: Married

Current Obsession: Baldur’s Gate 3, still love Witcher 3, and trying to get cookies done for Xmas gifts though that’s less obsession than it is pure panic

Last Thing I Googled: “breaking bad actor gif” because I couldn’t remember Bryan Cranston’s name but I remembered the “who, me?” gif lol

People I’d Like to Get to Know

@this-is-a-job-for-vesemir @tumbleweed-run @hotnerdywizard @blkgirl-writing @clericofgale @kirain @galesfavoritetressym @galesenchantedpanties

[stargazing15]

Can you save me - Prologue

Pairing: eventually Bradley Bradshaw x you

Summary: A hero arrived at North island to support Maverick on the Uranium plant mission preparation, underneath the though facade was a girl in desperate need of love, but can she love?

Warnings: injuries, war, mentions of ptsd

A/N: this is pure fictional, I have no knowledge of the military and I know this is all not possible in real life, it’s all for the sake of the story; this is the background story, bare with me

Enjoy!

Series masterlist - Next part

Here you were, at 32, achieved the unachievable missions, your nickname became a name with a ring to it, but you didn’t know who you were anymore, everything had changed. 

You ended up in the Special Operations Regiment after enlisting as a medic and graduating top of your class in your commando training. Soon after graduating you were sent on tours to Africa, Afghanistan and some undisclosed locations. After supporting a special forces team during a mission you got the chance to join them during training back home as one of the operators noticed your skills, both tactical and with weapons and mentioned the special forces are always in need of some good operators with a medical background. As aspected from your commando training, there were guys hating the fact that you were a woman and some accepting or not caring about it - as long as you can do the job. You became thick skinned at the hard competition and almost constant sexual remarks what apparently helped you becoming more focused on achieving your goals.

Even though you successfully finished special forces training, you got stuck as a para commando medic as higher ups still had problems with female operators. During one mission you couldn’t stay at the sidelines and got your team to safety. This didn’t go unnoticed by a CIA operative Nathan Burke. He got your file in his hands and was able to get you on a hostage rescue mission with an American RECON team. After the mission went smoothly, Burke kept you as one of his assets in this team, with the agreement of your CO. With them you earned your nickname ‘Ricochet’ as some of your targets got hit due to a calculated ricochet. The nickname, and the short version ‘Ric’, did help you with blending in with local support as it didn’t give away your identity and gender as it became known it was a pleasure working with you. Eventually you became a black ops operator for the CIA as your country didn’t mind lending you out. All the missions you had done went smoothly until the last one. 

You were sent to an undisclosed location to retrieve information about a terrorist attack and capture or kill the present subjects. Burke was as always somewhere around the compound in contact with you and your supporting team, mostly special operations. This time it was a new team with only greenhorns, the Yankee-team, you had made your concerns about them clear, but you hit a wall asking for an other team. As you send Yankee 4 and 5 to check the wide perimeter of the building, a hangar, they didn’t notice the place was wired. When you just to retrieved the data you needed, everything went horribly wrong. The team got discovered and a gunfight began, instead of backing you up and keeping the retrieved data safe, they ran off like little bitches saving only their own asses. 

During the gunfight you got hit multiple times in your right leg, but despite your injuries you were able to take out all the assailants. Before killing the the last one, he was able to activate the detonator and blew up the hangar. The moment it happened fear, anger and a sort of relieve rushed through your body. Fear and anger because you didn’t wanted to go down this way, being left behind and a part of you did not want to die yet, you didn’t know what life still had planned for you. And relieved because you had missed your parents so much ever since they died when you were 15, maybe you could be able to see them again.

Before losing consciousness you notified Burke that you had retrieved the needed data, so if you didn’t survive your body had to be removed for the data.

After getting discharged from the hospital, you got home to rehabilitate further, this was when the nightmares began. The images of the team leaving you and the building collapsing kept on playing over and over again in your head. You were thankful for Nate as he came over to stay with you for a week to help you adjust and start therapy for your ptsd. 

“Hey, did you call mr. booty call? Maybe you should let off some steam” Nate practically became your best friend, spending a lot of time together planning and executing missions. He probably knew you better than anyone else, even better than you knew yourself.

“Nope, he’s got a girlfriend before I left.” “Oh” “Yeah” 

And to make matters worse you got a call you needed to go to base, where notified you would be put on medical leave and not needed back anymore. The polite version of ‘thank you for your service and fuck off’. This completely devastated you and left you wondering ‘who am I now?’ Your country didn’t need you anymore, you did not have many friends, actually none, outside of the military, and you were still single. You had agreed with Axel, or mr. Booty call as Nate described him, that as long as the two of you were single you would sleep with each other, letting off steam, what you needed to do a lot ever since you joined the military. And your sister, you could not bother her with your problems as she had a family of her own.

This makes you wonder, how the hell did you end up, enlisted, in San Diego? 

Apparently someone dropped the word that you were available, healing but available. And an admiral liked it, he kept track of your career after you saved the life of his son during one of your missions.

Please let me know what you think

Little did you know the life you knew would make a 180 degree turn here.

Tagging: @cycbaby

#can you save me #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfic

[abarbaricyalp]

Absence of Faith

Rated: E // 5.1k words // werewolf au and all that entails // AO3

Written for the @sambuckylibrary TFATWS Anniversary Event

“Good evening, Angel,” the werewolf greeted, voice slurred by the effects of having been recently unconscious and now bound upright to a chair. It was all a little showy. The hunter had no need of information from the werewolf and the werewolf knew that. But the Wilsons had a code and all monsters were to be apprehended and dealt with.

The Wilsons were an old family in the fight against the supernatural. No one knew for sure which preacher first lifted a blade against a monster, but the legacy had been born. Seminary lessons butted up against physical training butted up against history and medical lessons. By the time he was a teenager, Sam had killed more monsters than he had fingers. And when he was just beginning to think he didn’t want to follow in the footsteps of all the Wilsons before him, his daddy was killed and the choice was taken from him.

Sam Wasn’t like most other Wilsons though. Thank God for Sarah to carry on the family name unsullied. Sam wasn’t just a hunter of the supernatural, some of that supernatural had found its way into him. His only saving grace–other than parents who loved him unconditionally, which was far more invaluable–was that he appeared to be Heavensent, rather than dragged up from Hell, like most monsters.

Sam had been born with wings.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Sam had been born with bony nubs that had eventually grown into wings, molting and refeathering as he got older and older. They were beautiful white monstrosities that he had difficulty controlling most days, even with a harness and coat that would pin them down.

“Angel,” the werewolf taunted again. “Can we hurry this along? Your cuffs are going to burn my wrist away.”

Sam glanced over to assess the amount of blood pooling under the werewolf’s wrist. His skin was scalded and blistered, each shift of his arm bringing the silver cuffs back into contact with skin, but he wasn’t in danger of losing any more limbs.

“You’ll be fine. Stop squirming.”

“You know damn well I’m not squirming,” the werewolf growled, but his voice was lighter than any real threat. It was true. The werewolf wasn’t squirming. His body was rippling with a withheld shift, brought on by the pain of the silver. The more his bones and muscles broke and changed shape, the more often his skin touched the cuffs.

This was a werewolf that Sam knew well. Too well probably. His daddy would be so damn mad about how well Sam knew this werewolf. And, shit, God help him if Sarah ever found out. But this werewolf had managed to snarl his way into Sam’s life. It may have been the Wilsons’ job to hunt down monsters, but they didn’t leave them to die and this werewolf had been on his last wheezing breaths when Sam found him the first time. Every decision since that first one to stitch his wounds shut were just bad judgment and selfish desire. 

No matter how much Sam tried to put distance between them, he was just as weak for the monster as that first day. There was something about his bright, animal eyes and the charming curl of his hair and fur and the sharp, dangerous glint to every smile. Man or beast, Sam gave himself up to the thrill of the monster’s company.

Werewolves were always some of the most dangerous creatures. There were creatures that were more monster than human and always would be–demons and chupacabras and the sasquatches of the world. There were creatures that were more human than monster–mermaids, witches, vampires even. But werewolves were always an in-between, on a knife’s edge between both worlds, the perfect predator and trickster. Vampires had control, at least. Most werewolves did not.

And, still, Sam always brought this one into his home or followed after him to some undisclosed hovel. (Okay, home may have been pushing it for what this safehouse was. Definitely more of a place to hold monsters until someone cooled off or help arrived.) One of these days it was really going to bite him in the ass.

“Are you mad at me?” Bucky asked.

“What makes you think that?” Sam asked boredly.

The werewolf lolled his tongue out of his mouth, curling the tip of it into a point. His tongue was longer than it should be, a sign that the shift was winning out over his control.

Sam clicked the silver piercing in his own tongue against the back of his teeth and then against the rings in his lips–two on his lower lip, one on his top. “Why would body piercings mean I was mad at you?” he asked.

The werewolf’s eyes narrowed and he sat back in the chair. Sam could see the sprawl of his body, large and bare since Sam had found him in wolf form and hadn’t exactly stuck around to see if he’d left a tidy stack of clothes somewhere. The shift was rippling of his skin, his fur. With one shuddering grimace, the cuffs fell away from his wrist. Sam had barely even noticed the full shift. When the fur was gone from his arm again, Sam could see a ring of blood, a deep cut, beginning to close. He’d figured the cuffs wouldn’t hold for long. The werewolf’s healing factor would take care of whatever damage he sustained freeing himself.

“Because,” Bucky said, voice low and rough. “I can smell the others.”

Continue on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #tfatwsanniversaryevent2023 #tfatws

[writingdumpster]

where you belong

pairing: Quaz x reader

warnings: undisclosed trauma for the reader, nightmares

summary: you appear in the quantum realm one day and Quaz takes you in.

word count: 2.1k

You woke up inside a living building with a handsome man doting on you. You couldn’t understand him at first, but he offered you a glass of a red liquid. You were hesitant, but the look on his face told you that you could trust him. When you took a sip of the liquid the sounds he was making suddenly became clear to you. His voice was soothing.

“Can you understand me now?” The man asked.

“Uh, yeah,” you said as you sat up on the bed you had been laying on. The man was sitting across from you on a small stool.

“How does your head feel?” He asked. You reached up and felt a bandage over your eyebrow.

“It’s fine,” you lied. The man’s forehead glowed. “Where am I?” You asked.

“Let me get you a painkiller,” the man said to you.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“My name’s Quaz,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You watched him as he opened the cabinets on his wall. “Where are we?” You asked.

“A place called the quantum realm, y/n,” he answered. “Where are you from?” He asked. He handed you a pill and a glass of something you thought was water, but ended up tasting sweet.

“Umm…Earth?” You said, not sure what the answer for this situation was. Wherever you were didn’t feel like anything you had known.

“I’ve heard of it,” Quaz said lightly.

“Are we on Earth now?” You asked.

“No,” he told you.

“Do you know how I got here?” You asked.

“I was hoping you would,” he said. “You just sort of…appeared here two days ago.”

“Are we in danger?” You asked. Quaz’ heart did a somersault. You already trusted him. He was glad. He’d been looking after your unconscious form for the last two days. He would key into your dreams every now and then and he had been anxious to speak to you.

“Not immediately, but the quantum realm isn’t a safe place,” he admitted.

“How do we leave?” You asked. He gave you a sad look.

“We don’t,” Quaz told you.

“You’re trapping me here?” You asked.

“No, no. It’s just the way it is here. Nobody here knows how to get out,” he said.

“Nobody? Who else is here?” You asked. The door to the room you were in opened and a tall and intimidating woman walked in with a weapon in her hand.

“Me,” the woman said. She glared down at you and you shrunk into the corner.

“Jentorra, calm down. She isn’t lying to me,” Quaz said. He stood and put a hand against Jentorra’s shoulder to slow her. His forehead flashed as he looked at you. “She’s scared.”

“Where did you come from?” Jentorra asked you sharply.

“I’m f-from Queens,” you squeaked nervously.

“Queens? You’re royalty?” She asked.

“N-no. Queens is a city in N-New Y-York,” you stuttered.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I got here,” you said. Jentorra looked over at Quaz.

“She’s telling the truth,” he informed her.

“Figure out what she knows,” Jentorra ordered before leaving again. Quaz sat back down. You had pulled your legs into your chest and curled into the corner. The way you looked at him was different now. He didn’t like it. He had lost your trust.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked nervously.

“I’m going to protect you,” Quaz said automatically. You raised an eyebrow. His forehead glowed again.“You can believe me. I’m going to keep you safe.”

“You can read my mind, can’t you?” You asked. Quaz smiled.

“I can,” he admitted.

“Did you read my mind while I was asleep?” You asked.

“A little. Dreams don’t tell me much, but yours were pretty,” he said. “Is that beach real?” He asked. Your cheeks burned.

“Yeah,” you said. “I went there when I was a kid.” You paused. “What’s going on? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Jentorra just wants to make sure that you’re not a spy,” he said.

“A spy for who?” You asked. Quaz’ forehead flashed.

“His name is Kang,” Quaz told you.

“I’ve never heard of him,” you said.

“I know,” Quaz assured you. “I can tell you’re not here to hurt anyone,”

“Will you let me go then?” You asked.

“Of course,” he assured you. You nodded and started to rise. “You might want to stay though. This place is very different from what you’re used to,” he said. You hesitated.

“Can you show me?” You asked. Quaz smiled. He was winning you back.

“Yeah. Come with me.” Quaz proceeded to show you around the quantum realm. He told you about Kang and the quantumnauts. He introduced you to a few people. He got you something to eat. He found you some clean clothes.

His tour continued and you were in the hustle and bustle of the camp. The metal box next to you started moving like it was alive and you screamed in terror. You jumped into Quaz’ body, wrapping your arms around him tightly and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He chuckled lightly. He rubbed your back softly.

“It’s alright,” Quaz soothed. “You’ll get used to all of this.” You released him and watched as the apparently alive box walked away from you. He ended his tour at a lookout point. You weren’t sure how to describe what you were looking at. You had never seen anything like it, but it was beautiful.

“Thank you,” you said as the two of you sat down on the edge of a glowing rock. “For everything.”

“It’s nothing,” Quaz said.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been taking care of me and you didn’t even know me,” you said.

“I could see that you were good,” he said. You smiled and your cheeks warmed.

“What am I going to do now?” You asked him suddenly, the smile falling from your face.

“You can stay with me,” he offered. “The guest room is yours if you’d like it.” Your lips briefly turned upwards.

“But what do I do now?” You asked. “I don’t know anything about this place. How do I just…start living here?” Quaz was quiet.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “This is all I’ve ever known. And it’s hard,” he admitted. “But there’s still good parts. I’ll help you find a way to live here.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked.

“Your dreams were pretty. Dreams are hard for me to read because they’re different from thoughts, but your dreams were beautiful. They felt happy,” he said.

“You must’ve caught me on a good night,” you said. “I usually have nightmares.”

“About what?” He asked. A short silence fell.

“Please don’t read my mind,” you asked. Quaz closed his mouth and nodded. The glow on his forehead died.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I won’t.”

You spent the next two months living with Quaz in his spare bedroom. He got you a job and helped you to acclimate to your new environment. He couldn’t have been happier to have you living with him. He had never had anyone to come home to before. He was thoroughly smitten by you, but he was doing his best to keep it under wraps. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable living with him and he knew you didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Quaz didn’t read your mind, just as you’d asked, but at night when you were dreaming he couldn’t help but indulge himself. He really did love your dreams. They were unlike any he had ever seen before. Whenever he sensed you having one of your nightmares he would tune out, never wanting to invade your privacy. He always made sure to wake you somehow though—banging on the floor or slamming a drawer. He wouldn’t allow you to suffer. One night he woke to hear you crying. He knocked on the door to your bedroom. You fell silent for a moment.

“Come in!” You called, your voice shaking. Quaz opened the door. You were sitting cross legged with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly.

“I’m fine,” you lied. Quaz’s forehead glowed.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” you complained.

“I’m worried about you,” he defended. “You’re crying in the middle of the night.”

“I just miss my family,” you lied. You wiped your tears away on the back of your hand. Quaz could tell you were lying without reading your mind. He sat down on the edge of your bed, keeping his feet on the floor and leaving a respectable distance between the two of you.

“Are you sure? You haven’t talked about them since you got here,” he said. He didn’t want to push you, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish that you’d feel comfortable enough to confide in him. You sighed.

“I don’t miss them,” you said. “I just had a nightmare.”

“You can tell me anything, you know?” Quaz told you. “I’m here for you.”

“You know what happened to me…don’t you?” You asked.

“I haven’t read your mind,” he assured you. “I do look at your dreams sometimes, but when they’re nightmares I stop,” he told you. “If you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you, it’s fine. But I want you to know that I’ll listen. No matter what,” he said. A tear slipped down your cheek. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again. You took a deep breath.

“Could you just read my mind?” You asked. “I want you to know, but it’s hard to talk about.” Quaz nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “Just think about what you want me to know.” You nodded. You focused on the memories that brought you so much pain and watched as Quaz’ forehead lit up. His expression fell after only a second. More tears began falling as you saw his smile fall. He reached up and wiped them away, his hand cupping your face.

“Oh, y/n,” Quaz cooed. “I’m so sorry.” You turned your cheek into his touch.

“It’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you sniffled. “And I’m not there anymore.”

“What can I do?” He asked. “I want to take care of you,” he confessed. His cheeks burned the moment the words left his mouth, but he meant them.

“You’ve been doing a pretty good job of taking care of me already,” you said. Quaz smiled softly.

“I’ll keep taking care of you for as long as you’ll let me,” he said before he could stop himself. You paused.

“What are we doing, Quaz?” You asked nervously.

“What do you mean?” He countered.

“There’s something between us, isn’t there?” You pushed. “Please don’t tell me this is all in my head.”

“It’s not,” Quaz said at once.

“Then what are we doing?” You asked. He hesitated.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he told you.

“Uncomfortable?” You questioned.

“You can stay here,” he assured you. “I’m not going to make you leave unless you want to. And if you want to leave I’ll help you find somewhere else to go.” You smiled softly.

“You know, it gets kind of cold in here at night,” you said.

“Oh?” He asked, confused by the sudden change in topic. “I could get you another blanket,” he offered.

“No, I think it might just be the room,” you said. “Maybe I should share with you.” You smirked. Quaz chuckled.

“There’s plenty of room in my bed for two,” he told you.

“I was hoping you would say that,” you said. You climbed out of bed, but Quaz grabbed your hand and stopped you before you could leave the room.

“Can I kiss you first?” He asked. You grinned.

“Please?” You requested. Quaz didn’t need any more encouragement. He pulled you into his body, his hands sliding onto your hips. He moved his lips against yours slowly. His tongue dipped into your mouth, you let out a small and happy hum and Quaz pulled away with a chuckle.

“So cute,” he murmured before pressing his lips back against yours. Your hands were running up and down the soft fabric of his shirt. When you pulled apart the two of you both kept your eyes closed for another moment, overwhelmed by the way the kiss had made you feel.

“I know it’s selfish, but I’m glad you came here. However it happened,” Quaz told you. You smiled.

“I think I was supposed to,” you said. “I think this is where I belong.”

#quaz x reader #quaz #ant man quantumania #william jackson harper #william jackson harper x reader

[artisanoftheredscience]

A PAGE FROM SLOWCAKES

[Editor's Note: Credit to Brightgoat and their maker, "Bright's Piccrew Hell" for the art. Image ID in alt text.]

NOTICE: Please read Editor's notes next to section headings, as they contain information about content that may be triggering for some.

Name: Liz(ard) O'Connor [Editor's Note: The last name may or may not be a real family name.]

DOB: November 15th, 1870.

Age: 24-31 years old. [Editor's Note: 24 is the first notable instance of Liz appearing in well-known circles. 31 is her age in the current year.].

KNOWN ALIASES: The Reckless Monster-Hunter, The Relentless Vake-Hunter [Editor's Note: No one is actually certain if this claim is true- those who do know for sure do not like to speak of it.], Thirteen.

[Editor's Note: Keen eyes will notice that 'Thirteen' is shared by numerous people within these pages. It is believed this is more of a title than an alias- though speculation in that regard veers into illegal territory.]

Pronouns: He/She/They

Profession: Monster-Hunter, Undisclosed Affiliation with the Bazaar. Advisor on the Great Hell-Bound Railway Board (GHRB).

BACKSTORY [Editor's Note; Discretion is advised- content ahead contains mentions of starvation, child suffering, poverty, violence, and unsafe living conditions.]

Liz is a Londoner, born and raised. He grew up on the streets well after the Fall, his parents unknown. Whether they died out at zee, got killed by some horror on land, or simply abandoned him, Liz couldn't say. They have no memories of them, and they don't really care to think about them.

Their conditions living on the street were not great. There was very rarely enough to eat, and they were often cold and miserable, exposed to the harsh elements of the Neath. They spent many a night hold up in filth-ridden, spider-infested buildings, hiding in the many winding streets of London. They were frequently cold or sick, but they survived, always on the move. Their greatest fear was not starving to death in the street or being killed by some horror, but the workhouses. The harsh and horrible conditions of poverty and homelessness paled in comparison to the suffering within those houses, and Liz did all they could to stay out of them.

Despite the misery of their life, there were some highlights. Liz was an adventurous child, always looking for some thrill to pass the time. They dreamed of becoming a Monster-Hunter like those who roamed the docks or Watchmaker's Hill, and they delighted in the sport of it. Their most common method of earning coin, even from a young age, was rat-catching, ferreting out the crafty bastards like a hound. They loved finding new ways to test their skills, taking death-defying leaps, charging headfirst into any sort of danger. Perhaps they were simply extraordinarily lucky that they never got seriously injured, but the thought hardly occurred to them. They simply had too much fun.

Liz did not have many close acquaintances growing up, but she did have one. Spring Lovelace, their charming and sociable best friend, who was their closest confidante in all things. Their adventures together, their games and their schemes and their wild plots, was the highlight of their every year. From May to August, Spring stayed in the Neath, and Liz was always at her happiest with her dearest friend by her side. The two of them promised to make names for themselves, together, and it was that promise that drove Liz to work hard and never lose hope. When her visits came to a sudden end when Liz was fourteen, the loss was devastating, but he never gave up hope. He loved his friend after all, and she was never one to go back on her word.

Liz grew from a scrawny, scrappy urchin to an adult, still struggling to scrape by, but as he got older he got stronger and more capable. He began to be able to take jobs that actually paid and soon he was even able to afford a real place to live, albeit one filled with beetles and rats and falling apart at the seams. Still, it was his, and he was content. Until, of course, that next great adventure, a brand new danger, crossed their path.

They were going to kill the Vake, and prove once and for all that they were the best hunter in all of the Neath.

NOTABLE ASSOCIATES

Detective Peculiar: A good friend of theirs. They work well together. Liz helps her with her work and in exchange she gives him tips for hunts. They have a shared history that makes them work well as friends.

Doctor Stone: Buddies in crime. They have an almost familial relationship. Liz considers Stone a very good friend and they commit so much crime together.

Lady Spring Lovelace: Their best friend. The light of their life. Liz and Spring are inseparable no matter what forms they take or how much they change. They love one another deeply. They are unstoppable when they work together and can be genuine menaces as a team.

Samuel (Sam) Wells (Wellison): A hunting partner and their best-worst friend. They're not romantic or platonic but a secret third thing. They fight all the time but its in a way that is out of care rather than malice.

Woeful: Liz's ex. They have the world's worst relationship. Their break-up was bad on historic levels and the two actively made one another worse when they were together. Liz was glad when they vanished altogether.

AMBITION NOTES [Editor's Notes: Major Spoilers for Ambition: Bag A Legend. Content warnings include violence, substance abuse and addiction, loss of identity, and extreme body modification. ] For an in-depth look, please see the Directory.

Liz chose the Intriguer Ending of Bag A Legend.

Their time with the Scarred Naturalist really soured their opinion on authority figures, even moreso than before. It also worried their inferiority complex.

Their experiences with Black Wing Absinthe caused them to develop a problem with alcohol that they never quite manage to kick. They usually manage to stay away from the absinthe, but upon relapsing they can go to incredibly dark places very quickly. The violent episodes the Absinthe causes seem uncontrollable- but in reality, Liz knows what they are doing. That is what should scare them. It doesn't but Liz knows it should.

They got their teeth replaced with Vake teeth, and they justified it at the time as a necessary sacrifice, but the relief they felt with the full set in was far more than that.

Their time at the abbey taught them control, but often they crave the freedom of those dreams to the point of debilitating pain. The bond they form with the Vake, as strange and unhealthy as it is, consumes them entirely.

Even after slaying most of it, they don't really "win". They keep the Intriguer alive, pretending as if it is for some sort of ego boost, but in reality they have blurred the boundaries between it and them so significantly that killing the Vake completely genuinely terrifies them.

They often answer to names that are not theirs, and the more they hunt the less themself they are. They take on elements of everything they consume and the Vake was no exception.

Wines was SO pissed at them for going back on their promise and of it weren't for the fact that it was too much of a hassle it definitely would have killed them.

April was also pissed. They were almost friendly beforehand but this betrayal completely sets them back.

Liz keeps the mandrake post ambition. 'Manzy' is never far from her and is genuinely a huge source of comfort.

EXTRA INFORMATION [Spoilers for late-game content]

Liz is kind of Pro-Liberation? He hates authority but is also not afraid to BE authority. Major hypocrite energy. He would so kill a Judgement if he had the chance though. He's like, a temporary ally one has to keep an eye on.

Liz has published exactly one academic paper and it was entitled "Correcting Misconceptions About the Vake and Its Anatomy". He was promptly asked to leave his temporary position at the university of Summerset.

Liz loves antagonizing people for no reason. He lives for drama!

Liz sometimes misses his days at the Abbey and occasionally recreates some of the routine in London to soothe the itch.

While his rivalry with the Vake is all fun and good, when he's under-stimulated he loves to torment the other Masters. This is something they are all aware of and are (ill) prepared to handle.

Despite being a technical member of the 13th month club, most of the Calendar Council really dislike her. The exception is August, because of course it is.

April and Liz have a very complicated relationship, but if you ask Liz, that's her friend!

Liz has a detailed ranking of which monsters taste the best and will offer it when asked.

#fallen london #fallen london oc #ambition: bag a legend spoilers #fallen london spoilers #a page from slowcakes #child harm #substance use tw #substance abuse #addiction #identity loss #ocposting

[divinecomedienne]

15 Questions

Tagged by @sagiow and @tough-n-dumb. Cheers, guys.

Were you named after anyone?

Not a real person but a Biblical figure my mum once memorably described as "the person who invented sex." (You can probably figure out my name now...)

When was the last time you cried?

I am pregnant so I am crying constantly at the moment. I cried throughout the Barbie film yesterday!

Do you have kids?

Just the one currently underway.

Do you use sarcasm?

Rarely.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I don't know if it's necessarily the first thing I notice, but I've always thought people's shoes are quite revealing.

What’s your eye color?

Brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Not a big fan of either. If I had to choose, I'd probably go for happy endings but they have to be well earned and not trite.

Any special talents?

I don't really have any party trick-type talents anymore. When I was a teenager, you could give me a series, episode, scene and line number of any episode of Red Dwarf I-VI and I could tell you the line.

Where were you born?

In a ward for especially young and especially old mothers (my mother was the latter) in a hospital in London, England.

What are your hobbies?

Nothing very serious. I draw a bit, although not enough; I do a bit of baking and I'm half-heartedly attempting to learn Russian. Very occasionally (like, every 5-7 years), I write some fanfic.

Have any pets?

No, I travel too much. I used to have some African pygmy hedgehogs (hence my profile pic), but sadly couldn't bring them with me when I moved from the UK to France six years ago.

What sports do/have you played?

I am the world's least sporty person and I hate competition! I have been doing yoga regularly for more than ten years though.

How tall are you?

5'7"/170cm.

Favorite subject at school?

Art, hands down.

Dream Job?

I wish I knew. For a long time I thought I wanted to work in media production, then I tried it and realised I don't like the constant stress, long hours and big egos (though I do still see the appeal). Since then I've been vaguely pursuing academia as I like analysing stuff and hanging out with students (mostly), but I've never really properly tried to get a full-time, permanent academic job cuz deep-down I'm scared of the workload, especially the constant stacks of marking.

Tagging

I think most people have done this already. @emeraldsilvercabbage @desdemonaspace @undisclosed-serendipity @universallypandadelusion: any of you guys not done this and want to?

#ask game

[reasoningdaily]

New York Post : Sean 'Diddy' Combs' checkered past includes stampedes, feuds and angry exes: 'Usually emerged unscathed'

Before he was Diddy or P. Diddy, Sean Combs was “Puff Daddy,” an ambitious rap promoter who left a trail of rage and blood from the start.

Way before the bombshell lawsuit filed last week by his ex-girlfriend accusing him of trafficking, rape and physical abuse multiple times through the years, Combs’ life and career was marked by high-profile beefs, arrests, court dates, and accusations from women and business associates.

But he’s never seemed to pay a big price – until now, as he settled the lawsuit from singer Cassie for an undisclosed sum a day after it was filed.

The hashtag #SurvivingDiddy was trending on X Saturday, with a number of people predicting that more women will come forward with accusations against Combs, who now goes by “Love,” in the days ahead.

Sean Combs, then known as “Puffy,” performs with Notorious B.I.G performs at the International Amphitheatre in Chicago in April 1995. Getty Images

Past acquaintances such as Kimora Lee Simmons and Diddy’s ex-girlfriend Gina Huynh have accused Combs of assaulting them.

Singer Aubrey O’Day has said she was fired from the group Danity Kane because she “wasn’t willing to do what was expected of [her] — not talent-wise, but in other areas.”

“He’s always seemed to be made of Teflon, he’s usually emerged unscathed from all sorts of situations,” Zack O’Malley Greenburg, author of “3 Kings: Diddy, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z and Hip Hop’s Multi-Billion Rise,” told The Post Saturday.

Singer Cassie, who settled a bombshell lawsuit against longtime boyfriend P. Diddy this week, are seen in Las Vegas for her 21st birthday in 2007.WireImage

“He’s always been extremely charismatic and that’s helped him get himself out of scrapes. He’s always walked a fine line. He grew up in Mount Vernon but his dad was a gangster from Harlem.”

In Dec. 1991, when Combs was only 22 and an intern at Uptown Records, the tone was set for some of the violence that would follow him throughout his career when a charity basketball game he was overseeing with Heavy D at a City University of New York gym in Harlem turned into a stampede that killed nine people.

A judge later ruled that Combs and Heavy D, whose real name is Dwight Myers, were responsible for the tragedy.

Combs dated Jennifer Lopez in 1999 and one of their dates ended up in a shooting incident at a Times Square club.FilmMagic, Inc

In the mid-1990s, Combs, then head of Bad Boy Records, was at the center of a deadly feud with West Coast rappers, primarily Suge Knight and Death Row Records.

The beef began with a rivalry between Biggie Smalls, who was signed to Combs’ label, and Tupac Shakur, who was signed to Death Row. Both men wound up murdered – Shakur in Sept. 1996 and Smalls in March 1997.

In April 1999, when Combs had become a full-fledged hip hop mogul, he was busted for allegedly bashing record executive Steve Stoute with a champagne bottle because Stoute used unauthorized footage of Combs in a music video.

Then known as “Puff Daddy,” Combs is seen here as a young rap impresario in 1995.Getty Images

The two reconciled after Combs paid Stoute $500,000. Combs, who had faced seven years behind bars, was sentenced to only a day of anger management.

Later that same year, Combs, his then-girlfriend Jennifer Lopez and his and his protégé rapper Shyne got into an argument with another patron at Club New York in Times Square and gunfire broke out.

Both Shyne and Combs were arrested and charged in connection with the incident. Combs, whose legal team included O.J. Simpson’s future attorney Johnnie Cochran, skated. Shyne was sentenced to ten years in prison.  

Diddy, now known as “Love,” at the MTV awards in Newark in September.WireImage

Combs’ driver at the time, Wardel Fenderson, testified at the time that he’d been warned not to take the job because Combs was “very arrogant, very demanding, has a very, very hot temper and some acquaintances of a bad nature.”

Cassie, whose real name is Casandra Ventura, and Combs had an on-and-off relationship for more than a decade before their split in 2018.

In the federal suit, she claimed Diddy also forced her to have sex with sex workers while he filmed, directed and masturbated. He denied the claims.

The late rapper Biggie Smalls, who was killed in 1997, was signed to Diddy’s Bad Boy Records label.Corbis/VCG via Getty Images

Both sides “resolved the claims … to their mutual satisfaction,” Cassie’s lawyer announced Friday without disclosing the terms of the settlement. 

Diddy’s longtime attorney, Ben Brafman, denied all the allegations against his client, and insisted the recent settlement doesn’t mean Combs is guilty of the accusations.

“One of the concerns we often need to deal with whenever a celebrity has been unfairly targeted in a very public manner are additional claims that seem to materialize out of nowhere; claims that are relatively easy to make but may have no basis in fact whatsoever,” Brafman told The Post.

“Just so we’re clear, a decision to settle a lawsuit, especially in 2023, is in no way an admission of wrongdoing. Mr. Combs‘ decision to settle the lawsuit does not in any way undermine his flat-out denial of the claims. He is happy they got to a mutual settlement and wishes Ms. Ventura the best.”

#Diddy #Surviving Diddy #Sean Combs #Bad Boy #Sean 'Diddy' Combs' checkered past includes stampedes #feuds and angry exes: 'Usually emerged unscathed'

[onenettvchannel]

#RadyoBanderaEXCLUSIVE: The Final 3rd Season of Hilda is in the works by Fall 2023 on Netflix

(Written by Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong / Freelanced News Writer, Reporter and Presenter of OneNETnews)

TROLBERG, SCANDINAVIA -- A British-Canadian cartoon show Hilda nears its conclusion with the upcoming 3rd and Final Season. Fans of the show were taken by surprise with this seriously unexpected news.

(CONTRIBUTED ADVERTISEMENT SCREENGRAB COURTESY: Penguin Random House & Reconstructed by: Rhayniel Saldasal Calimpong)

(BANNER PHOTO and VIDEO COURTESY: ReyGGTV via YT Channel & Shorts VIDEO)

In a recent advertisement from Penguin Random House (PRH), who was obtained by an undisclosed digital media insider; including one internet sleuth YouTuber, and also the online media insider individual in Los Angeles, California named ReyGGTV (whose real name as Randy Garita), it appears that the American streaming service called Netflix may have been release the show by Fall 2023 from a screengrab image, which was not independently verified to Radyo Bandera.

(COVER PHOTO COURTESY: HildaTheSeries via FB Photo / Stills from a Final Season 3 opening of Hilda on Netflix)

Additionally, the last opening intro for Season 3 was sought-after in the city of Trolberg and reportedly seen on Facebook's cover photo (which is owned by Meta Platforms Inc.).

In addition to the Final Season, 3 new graphic novels have also been obtained by Randy himself entitled "Laughing Merman", "Faratok Tree" & "Fairy Village", which expected to be released in November 2023. These novels are part of 'Hilda: The Series' provided by a graphic novel publisher Flying Eye Books (FEB).

(FILE GRAPHIC NOVEL PHOTO COURTESY: Google Images)

Before the independent cartoon show on Netflix, there was a novel called 'Aubépine' & 'Aster', which served as a source of inspiration for Hilda. Show Creator named Luke Pearson, along with the animated production companies Silvergate Media and Mercury Filmworks, have granted to secure the streaming rights through Netflix in the United States of America (U.S.A.). The 3rd season of Hilda consists of 13 episodes, each with a runtime of 22 minutes. The actual release date might later change, but it is expected to coincide with the Christmas season or early Q1 2024.

Some reliable sources and insider individuals told exclusively to Radyo Bandera that the British-Canadian animated series on Netflix is fully legitimate, unless there is an accidental statement by default. Fans of the show are so alarming, because of a release date have already been leaked out Friday night (September 1st, 2023).

(FILE MOVIE POSTER COURTESY: Google Images)

Regardless onto this, streaming fans are excited to explore Hilda's adventurous world one last time in Trolberg City, Scandinavia as the 3rd season approaches, leading after a new movie released of The Mountain King late-last December 2021 as a series follow-up -- despite for Season 3 release date is worth the wait before the Holiday season starts.

The new and final 3rd Season of Hilda streams this Fall 2023 at 12 MIDNIGHT (Pacific local time), only on Netflix.

PHOTO COURTESY for REPRESENTATION: Silvergate Media and Mercury Filmworks

SOURCE: *https://old.reddit.com/r/HildaTheSeries/comments/ucrkpz/all_abord_the_season_3_hype_train/ [Referenced Subreddit Post #1 via Reddit] *https://old.reddit.com/r/HildaTheSeries/comments/ueagcj/yes_season_3_is_happening/ [Referenced Subreddit Post #2f via Reddit] *https://www.animationmagazine.net/2021/12/creative-team-behind-hilda-and-the-mountain-king-discuss-her-next-big-adventure/ [Referenced News Article via Animation Magazine] *https://www.whats-on-netflix.com/news/hilda-season-3-to-release-on-netflix-in-2023/ [Referenced News Article via What's on Netflix News Bureau] *https://twitter.com/TheCartoonBase/status/1697753562409803986 [Referenced Capitoned X Network Photo via Cartoon Base] *https://www.facebook.com/100063782460430/posts/754957926640283 [Referenced FB Cover Photo via HildaTheSeries] *https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnyN0zHUAo [Referenced YT Video #1 via ReyGGTV] *https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7ni24ATuhY [Referenced YT Video #2 via ReyGGTV] *https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umdqL_kA_mY [Referenced YT Video #3f via ReyGGTV] *https://youtube.fandom.com/wiki/ReyGGTV *https://reyggtv.bandcamp.com/ [Referenced Biography Location via Bandcamp] *https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/729092/hilda-and-the-laughing-merman-by-luke-pearson/ [Referenced Graphic Novel Listings #1 via Penguin Random House] *https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/729093/hilda-and-the-faratok-tree-by-luke-pearson/ [Referenced Graphic Novel Listings #2 via Penguin Random House] *https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/729094/hilda-and-the-fairy-village-by-luke-pearson/ [Referenced Graphic Novel Listings #3f via Penguin Random House] and *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hilda_and_the_Mountain_King

-- OneNETnews Team

#entertainment news #trolberg #scandinavia #hilda the series #hilda #netflix #season 3 #the final season #development #ReyGGTV #awareness #cartoon #Aubepine #aster #graphic novel #books #comics #radyo bandera #sweet fm #RBSFM #exclusive #first and exclusive #OneNETnews #Youtube

[fourseasonsfigs]

A Life of Fighting is but a Dream

I was so excited when this fig was announced for production! I absolutely fell in love with Gong Jun's Shanghai Spring Festival Gala performance on January 23, 2023. He sang two songs, and this was the first one, 刀剑如梦, A Life of Fighting is but a Dream, by Wakin Chao.

The full performance of this song is here:

I LOVE IT. He sounds so good! He's come so far, I'm just so proud of him. Here's the beautiful photo gracing the song in my phone:

And a few more pics, from far to near:

There's an English translation of the lyrics on Youtube that I'll link to here in case you, like me, become obsessed with this song!

Alright, you convinced me - one more picture of Gong Jun singing his heart out!

The costume is quite beautiful too. I really wanted figs of all his costumes from the performance (and one day I will commission them), but for now, I'm delighted to have this fig.

Our little Jianghu warrior arrived safe and sound in his plastic polystyrene protective box!

The actual name of this fig translates to Warrior of the Jianghu, but I associate this fig so closely with the song that had to take creative liberties here.

His head looks a bit odd as we rotate around this figure, but I can assure you it's normal looking in real life. It's true it's a little less round than the usual fig dimensions, due to the height they're going for in his hair, but it's not as exaggerated as this in real life. And yes, this is my favorite hairstyle of Junjun's - his hair off his immaculate face, lots of volume, and a bit touseled). It looks a bit distorted in this pic, which it is not. Unfortunately, you are dealing with a rudimentary phone photographer!

His outfit does indeed shine with this lovely pearlescent sheen to it.

*scrolls back up and watches the video for the [undisclosed number] of times* I like how the fig maker posed him, with one hand behind his back in his comfortably familiar Wen Kexing pose.

You can see the detail here with the long cuffs and the gathers that go into it, as well as the split in the sleeve. This is also a nice shot of the subtle leaf pattern.

This fig would not stand up for anything - I had to prop him up to take the header shot, and then he immediately got glued down on a fig stand. I'm not taking any chances of this fig tipping over and shattering!

Hmm, his head has looked more regular from this side. That's because they put the bigger swoosh in his hair on the other side.

This is a good angle to see his other hand in the classic sword mudra. Very apropos!

I like the detail here with his collar and the belt. His little boots are very cute!

I forgot to take a pic of the bottoms-up angle before I glued him down! You can tell I was VERY determined not to have this fig suffer any casualties in the fig-unboxing chaos.

A top view of Junjun's crowning glory. He really does have beautiful hair - thick and a gorgeous rich black.

I wanted you to have a closeup of the outfit details here - sorry my phone could only zoom in on the clothing details, leaving out the matching leaf detail in his eyes! The fig maker did a nice job on the tiny little details here.

I don't have a box card or a printed box, unfortunately. You know I would have loved to have the art for this one!

One little last treat for you - here's the extracted audio from the performance just in case you also want to enjoy it.

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 463

Scene Count: 31

Rating: A beautiful dream

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#gong jun #junzhe #word of honor cast #shl cast #figthusiast

[homemade-clones]

✨, 🥊, 🍕 , and ❤️ for charm and cake?

I hope you're doing well! :)

Hi there, Blue! The went very well, thank you! I hope your week will be as pleasant <3

✨ How did you come up with the OC’s name?

CHARM Ok, his name's origin is pretty silly 😅. He was actually the last to be named when creating the squad, remaining nameless up until I tried giving their ref sheets a go. And the expression I gave him in there was making me low-key flustered like?? hdjahsd???? Was my own OC trying to charm me while I tried to draw him? So I jokingly named his file "Charmer", and it kind of stuck, so I just went with the flow. Now the name has a proper origin in-universe and all, but the origins are less than legendary lmao. CAKE This one is because Cake has one insatiable sweet-tooth. His craving is bad enough, he can be easily bribed into doing chores he hates or into all kinds of shenanigans if he's promised even 1 (one) single piece of candy at the end of it. But when people ask, he's quick to say that's because he's "obviously the best looking beefcake you'll ever have the pleasure of seeing" (a statement often followed by one of his brothers thwacking him above the head for being cocky).

🥊 What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

CHARM Loves: Despite Cheese's reprimands of "bringing work to downtime", Charm enjoys both coding and (harmlessly, from his point of view) cracking into software. He finds the first a good option to relax while still keeping his mind sharp; and the second an efficient way to challenge and stimulate his brain during idle times (and if it earns him some credits from, ahem, undisclosed sources, that's a bonus). He occasionally likes channeling his artistic side into carving little wooden animals and charms. Hates: It's not exactly a hating, that would be too strong a word, but he really dislikes dancing. Charm came out of his tube with two left feet and all the rhythm of a drunk, deaf bantha. He thinks he may be able to slow dance, but that's a theory yet to be tested - no one has stuck around long enough yet to get to this point of intimacy. CAKE Loves: Singing! His voice is nothing to write Naboo about, but the squad never complains when he decides to break the hyperspace silence with the last songs stuck on his head (except when it makes the massiffs join the singing. Tooka is very vocal about how tone-deaf the enthusiastic companions are). Also loves annoying the squad with (mostly) harmless pranking. Hates: Hiking. He just can't see the point. He'll get all sweaty and tired and eaten by the local mosquito population, and for what? To see a pretty waterfall or whatever, and then have to walk the whole path back? Pfft, no, thank you.

🍕 What is their favorite food?

CHARM Anything fish. Fried, stuffed, roasted, in a soup? Doesn't matter, just let him have some of it, please and thank you <3 CAKE Sweets, any kind, any time. But he has a very soft spot for those hard candies with a gooey center. It is like having two candies in one!

❤️ What is one of your OC’s best memories?

CHARM Easily, the day Dinui was assigned to him. He wasn't too sure of how he felt about having a whole another living being relying on him for being safe, healthy and well-cared for (yeah, there were his brothers who kind of relied on him doing his part to keep the whole squad alive, but it's not the same thing!), yet, the moment he laid eyes on that chubby, paws-too-big-for-his-body, wiggly massiff puppy stuffed inside a too-large vest with his CT number? Charm will be forever thankful for the blank mask his bucket provided, because the cheek-stinging smile that he couldn't contain for the life of him was something that would 100% become his name, if any of his brothers had seen it. CAKE It was one of the first missions after him and his siblings (Cake and Bedbug) got assigned to Mist Squad. They were tasked with capturing a fleeing deserter, and it was the first time he had a chance to put all of his skills and training to real, actual use. It felt good, really good to feel like an essential part of the team. That he got praised for his trap being the thing who caught their target only added to the feeling.

#oc asks #about: my ocs #oc: ct 2253 | arf charm #oc: ct 2254 | arf cake #blog: sunkissedclones #thank you for the ask!

[minnesotamedic186]

15 Questions

Tagged by @undisclosed-serendipity

Were you named after anyone?

This one lady from "Gone With The Wind"

When was the last time you cried?

Some time last week I think

Do you have kids?

@chocolate-milfy(for real though I'm single and turn 19 in a month what do you think-?)

Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Any accessories they might have like jewelry or dyed hair

What’s your eye color?

Brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I can't handle scares- ;-;

Any special talents?

I can make these chirping noises by sucking air though my lips

Where were you born?

Somewhere in Brainerd-?

What are your hobbies?

Singing and, of course Tumblr

Have any pets?

2 cats, 2 horses and a dog

What sports do/have you played?

Yeah I think bowling counts-

How tall are you?

5'3"

Favorite subject at school?

Adventure end Challenge in high school even if I was "threatened" with a knife in that class-

Dream Job?

Anything involving food-

tagging: @hostess-of-horror @bramble-scramble @pastelprince18 @randomrabbidramblings

#omniversal ramblings