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chrollohearttags · 7 months

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kinktober • day two

kink: office sex

character: nanami kento

show : Jujutsu Kaisen

fic type: drabble ( wc: 1.2K)

content warning + themes: choking (he uses his tie), spit play, missionary, squirting, daddy’s used a couple times, infidelity, hint of toxic nanamin

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡

“K-Kent—I’m gonna come if you don’t stop! I’ll make a mess..ruin all of the newest reports.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart..but is that not the point? Besides..it’s nothing we can’t fix.”

the type of banter that one would ever expect to be partaken during such a sexy, intimate moment. It was a scene akin to something from a movie or a corny, cliche porno. Alas though, it was your reality..back pressed to the pinewood desk, legs hiked up midair and three fingers hooked inside of your cheek. Being thrashed around on the base of your boss’ cock. Sharp thrusts being fed to your fertile little cunt…making a mess would have been quite the understatement at this point. A blanket like sheath and strings of your creamy arousal dripping all over his shaft. Honestly, he was the only man who could ever invoke such a reaction from you.

“Tell me though, my dear?..Can he make you do this? Hmm..has that boyfriend of yours ever made you come like this? You’re so turned on right now…” it was a fact that CEO and your secret fling, Nanami Kento was quite proud of. Holding you up after hours, long after the remainder of the staff had dissipated and gone home. Using the guise of some ‘special assignment’ that he only entrusted in your hands to have you squirting all over him. “We—really shouldn’t be doing this!—ahh fuck! It’s so wrong.” The words flowed from your mouth yet they meant nothing. Not when your body was singing an entirely different tune. One where you were writhing underneath him and sloshing around in your own slick. Having ripped your top open, Kento glared vehemently as your ample breasts bounced around, crashing against each other. In truth, there was nothing your sorry ass excuse of a man..if he could even be called one, could do with you. A woman of your pedigree deserved nothing but the best in every single aspect, including dick. You had been employed here for three years and not once had he ever seen that asshole bringing you lunch or flowers. But rather, aggravation and headaches about some girl he had been messing around with or how he had taken your car whilst you were out working. It utterly repulsed him! So he was going to vet every bit of his frustrations by fucking you senseless..

“But it feels so…fucking right? Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart? I mean, it surely seems like you do with the way you’re squeezing my dick.”

for all the days that he had watched you strut about throughout the office halls, wearing something far too revealing and rousing..all the nights he had dreamt of getting you alone and letting his tongue trail up your thighs as he teased that soaking center. Knowing the sheer anticipation alone had you turned on; waiting for him to peel back those panties and letting that sticky layer of arousal be exposed to the cool elements. Watching those nipples stiffen up as he pinched them between his fingertips…taking all of the time in the world to pleasure you. Which luckily came to fruition tonight. He had you panting like a little dog in heat, salivating and falling all over yourself..having already invoked one orgasm, he was hoping to produce so many, you’d barely be able to function. Wielding that dark tan tie that had cheetah print littering the material, Kento fastened the grip around his knuckles, tugging tighter as to slightly restrict your air. Being choked definitely turned you on more than you’d care to let on. Also, it would keep you reigned in, just in case you decided to run from the dick!..

“Tell the truth. He can’t get you this wet. Now can he? I’m the only one that can, right? This is the type of fucking you deserve, isn’t it?” Questioning with gentle coos as he slid a thumb between your lips to suckle on. Those innocent looking eyes glaring right up at him. Feeding you a soft slap to the cheek, Kento posed the question once more before ramming his cock deeper. “Y-yes, daddy.” Evoking a smirk and earning yourself a sloppy kiss as he placed a hand to the center of your stomach. “Thaaat’s my good girl. Now you just keep coming on this dick. That’s your only job right now, understand?” To which you’d nod, reassuring him you’d do as he said. Those quivering legs rested atop his shoulder blades, ankles laced with gentle pecks to assist in calming you down. When he’d notice your gaze starting to falter and your head falling backwards, Kento made haste in snatching it back up before hooking your jaws with two fingers.

“Hey, eyes up here, sweetheart. I didn’t give you permission to look away. Focus on this dick, nothing else.” Which was all but inevitable as that swollen appendage pounded into you. Hitting that sensitive core each time he thrusted in and out. A thick coat of pearlescent cream slathered over all that shaft, it was such a delectable sight. But Kento was a little greedy, egotistical if you will. He couldn’t let up until he saw you convulsing. Which wasn’t too far off base because once he hooked your jaw, you’d begin to pant as he sped up that heavy pounding. Not letting up until he felt that pussy tightening around him and clutching as if you didn’t want him to pull out..

“Kent!—I'm gonna come..”

“Ah..not yet. There’s one more thing I need.”

coiling your fingers together, Kento leaned down and gently brushed the top of your forehead before marking it with a kiss. “Tell me you love me..right now. Say it..” full and we’ll aware of the fact that you were already cheating but telling another man you loved him, only to turn around and be forced to go home and say it to your boyfriend was nothing more than a slap in the face. Even so, the immense pleasure and intensity of the moment had taken its toll on you so with his thumb caressing your cheek, you’d utter the fateful phrase:

“I love you, Kento.” Bringing a devious grin of sheer satisfaction to his face. With that, he’d prompt you to release and suddenly, a shower of sticky rain splattered his tan suit and blue button down that had been halfway undone. A sight he’d never grow tired of. Only to give you his load in return right after. You’d meet in a haze of passionate kisses to center you from those climatic highs. You’d stay like that for a few minutes; limbs entangled and lips crashing together…finally pulling away, you’d begin to chuckle, completely overtaken by bliss. Patting your asscheek with a gentle slap, he’d usher you up with his opposite hand to help you gather your bearings.

“Hey, let’s get out of here. The cleaning crew will be coming in a little while.” Informing you as he buttoned that shirt back up and fastened his pants. But whilst you were getting re-dressed, making the best attempt you could to make yourself look presentable and not as if you had just gotten ravaged by your boss, it was then that a familiar contact would appear across the screen of your iPhone..

Satoru 💍

you felt a sinking sensation in the out of your stomach, a combination of guilt and anxiety lingering but it didn’t matter. Because as far as you were concerned, the only man who could satisfy you was right here.

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lwwife · 6 days

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Since you’re taking requests could you please do one where it’s R and Leah’s like 3 year anniversary or something and R plans out a nice surprise but Leah forgets and shows up late which upsets R a lot. Something angsty but with a happy ending 🤭

You forgot?

Angst (Happy ending), some fluff

“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.

“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.

“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.

“Happy anniversary baby girl” You whisper to Leah, her eyes fluttering open at the light kisses being left all over her face.

“Mmmh” she grins and turns to you, pulling you in for a proper one. “Happy anniversary” she whispers, smiling brightly at you and then leaning in to kiss you again. Your kisses turn heated and end in some passionate morning sex, causing you both to run a little late, but you both didn’t care, claiming it had to be done to celebrate your third anniversary. Since you were now running late you had agreed to give each other your presents later tonight.

“Darling, meet me there at 6:30 okay? I’ll text you the address so you can pop it in your phone” You peck her lips, walking to the other side of the garage to get in your car.

“Babe please tell me what it is” she whines.

“No can do my love, it’s a surprise just wait and see” you grin, lowering yourself into your car.

“Ughhh” she groans, getting in her own car. You turn and give her a wink through the window as you reverse out of the garage, and you catch her rolling her eyes. You honk loudly at her, and she winds the window down.

“I better not have just seen you rolling your eyes at me missy”, she smiles guiltily but proudly, “Alright then, no more celebratory sex for you” You give her a smug grin and wind your window up.

“No baby wait!” Her calls fall on deaf ears as you roll out the driveway.

You text Leah the address once you arrive at work, along with some teasing words. The address included just the street name, and you had told her to meet you in the car park, still wanting the element of surprise for your final destination.

Your day flies by and before you know it, it’s time to leave for the restaurant. You had booked in Leah’s favourite, it was a 6-month waiting list and a lot of sweet talking, but you knew it was all worth it for your girl. After dinner, you planned to take her to the place you two first met, a local pub in Milton Keynes. You first encountered the blonde when you and your best friend were forced to share the dart board with her family, and it all skyrocketed from there. You thought it’d be a nice idea to take her back there, even though the two of you regularly went with Leah’s mum, you thought it’d be a special idea for today, just the two of you.

You changed into the outfit you had brought to work. A long black dress, with a slit down the side of the right thigh. It was Leah’s favourite dress of yours, and every time you wore it, it always ended up being almost ripped to shreds by her at the end of the night. You jumped in the car and quickly texted Leah, “Leaving now xx” before driving off. When you arrived at the restaurant you checked your phone to find your message unread. You didn’t worry too much, assuming she must have been driving on her way. You waited a while longer however there was still no sight of the blue-eyed girl. It was nearing a couple of minutes past your reservation when you decided you were going to have to go into the restaurant, knowing you’d lose the booking otherwise. Once you were seated at the table, you checked your phone—still nothing. You decided to call her, however, the phone rang out to her adorable voicemail that she hadn’t changed in 6 years.

After another 30 minutes passed and all you received was radio silence from Leah you began to worry. You knew she wouldn’t intentionally stand you up, you had been together for three years for god's sake. So, with that in mind, worrying thoughts began to run through your head. Had she been in an accident? Stabbed? God where the fuck is she! After being told by the hostess that you had already occupied an hour and a half of your two-hour booking you decided to call some of the Arsenal girls as they would’ve been the last to see her.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“Lia! Oh, thank God! I’m sorry to disturb you but I was meant to meet Leah over an hour ago and I haven’t heard from her. Do you have any idea where she is?” You rambled into the phone, receiving a few strange looks from the surrounding tables.

“Oh um, Leah!” she called out,

“Yeah?” you heard your girl on the other end of the phone,

“Y/n is on the phone; you were meant to meet her?” Lia responds,

“Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck!” Is all you hear, and you can instantly tell the Milton Keynes twang in her cuss. “Baby god fuck I am so sorry, the girls were all going out for drinks and I completely lost track of time” She tried to reason through the speaker. Your worries instantly faded but anger fuelled inside of you. The phone bruised your hand as you gripped it.

“Where. The fuck. Are you?” You quipped, tight-lipped.

“Danny’s bar, babe I’m sor-“, you hung up on her not wanting to hear the pathetic reasoning for her absence. You hurriedly exit the restaurant, sincerely apologising, not before they pull you back and force you to pay a hefty fee for the time. You pay and angrily storm to your car, driving straight to the bar where Leah is. Once you arrive you stride in, instantly spotting or rather hearing the loud group of girls. Katie calls you over and you happily waltz towards her, still in your dress. You don’t spot Leah at the table.

“Your girl is at the bar” Katie slings an arm around your shoulder,

“I don’t care” you reply, taking her drink and chugging it down.

“Finally, someone who wants to have a bit of fun!” Katie exclaims, “I’ll get us some shots.” She winks.

“Put it on Leah’s tab” you shout after her as she heads to the bar. At the sound of her name, Leah turns around to find you sat at the table. Her eyes widen and fear washes over her face. She swallows and begins to walk over to you slowly. As she goes to sit down you all but look at her and slide your handbag to reserve the spot next to you, “taken”. You still refuse to face her. Leah knows better than to plead with you now, not wanting to make a scene, so she allows you to ignore her. She nods and walks around to the other side of the table, opposite you.

As the minutes ticked by, more alcohol went down your throat. You were slightly tipsy at this point. Leah had still not spoken to you, as you refused to acknowledge her, but you could feel the burn of her eyes on you all night.

Before you knew it, everyone was starting to twinkle their way out, tipsy goodbyes being shared around. Leah, who had still not quipped a word, followed you to your car. Having been driven there by Lia, and also knowing you’d had far too much to drink to drive yourself.

You both walked silently towards the car, you with an extra rage in your step. When you made it to the door you pulled out your keys. The car squeaking noises back and forth as you kept locking and unlocking the car. Leah grabbed your hand to help, and you pulled away, hard. “Baby just let me help you unlock the car”, she pleaded.

“One, don’t call me that. Two, I don’t need help.” You scoffed, continuing to tumble with the buttons. Leah sighed, not bothered to argue with you. Once you finally got the car unlocked you headed to get into the driver’s seat before Leah grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Oh no no, you’re not driving” She states.

“What? Why?” you reply, outraged.

“Because you’ve had too much to drink, go to the other side”. You huff, sulking to the passenger side of the car.

The beginning of the drive was silent, until your mind began to sober up, and begin wondering.

“You can sleep on the couch” You quipped to Leah.

“What! Why?” She squeaked back.

“Why do you think!?” You began to raise your voice. Leah pulled over to the side of the road, knowing this could get a little messy.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, It just completely slipped my mind, I completely forgo-“

“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.

“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.

“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.

When you returned home, you marched upstairs, slamming the bedroom door. Leah remained downstairs and sighed at your loud actions. She knew she fucked up and she also knew she wouldn’t get out of this one easy. So, she began assembling everything she’d need to make it up to you.

“Baby?” Leah knocked softly at your bedroom door. She was met with silence. “Baby? Can I come in?”. Silence again. Leah decided to softly open the door. Attempting to squeeze through, but struggled due to her current clothing, and accidently pushed the entire door wide open.

She stood there, a little embarrassed, head to toe in a pumpkin costume, flowers in hand, and a small trolley that looked like she had stolen from her little cousin behind her. She smiled softly and awkwardly. You had to stifle back a laugh, covering it with a small cough at the sight. You remained silent.

“I’m sorry, I really am” she whispers. “Let me make it up to you?” she smiles softly, lifting the flowers. You couldn’t stay mad at her little face enclosed in her pumpkin hat. So, you softly nodded and smiled. She smiled brightly and practically ran to you.

You both lay in bed naked, sat up against the headboard, Leah’s costume tossed on the floor, her arms around you, your back to her front. The trolley of food is empty, and the smidges of melted chocolate are still visible on both your bodies. “You’re a twat you know?” You turn your neck slightly to turn up and look at her. She smiled down at you.

“I know” she frowns.

“But you’re my twat” you smile. She laughs at your absurd and cheesy words.

She leans into your lips softly smiling, “That I am”.

A/n: First time writing in a few months! Hopefully this is okay and everyone enjoyed :)

As always, kind feedback, along with any questions, discussions, and convos are always welcome in my inbox!

#leah williamson #awfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #wlw #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #lionesses

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amerricanartwork · 7 days

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RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"

Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have.

It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant.

To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…

On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.

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Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let me know if you want more. Didn't get too much on Part 1 but I have ideas so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your third week begins in the same place. Before the iron gate, the code unlocking the green maze within. You’re still just as impressed as your first day there. To you, it’s like a fantasy. Entirely unattainable but it’s right there. You can look, but you can’t touch… not beyond cleaning.

You linger outside, not thinking. You admire the tall tulips and the hedge trimmed to resemble some landmark you can’t quite place. You could see a place like this in an Austenian film or perhaps something Victorian. You don’t have an eye for the difference.

You key in the code for the backdoor and continue on. You put covers on your shoes and grab a fresh set of gloves. You’re getting into a pattern, though each client differs slightly. You put your things away and bring your water bottle with you. You bought a cool strap that keeps it against your hip, a small splurge with your first paycheck. The rest went to bills.

As you start on your usual journey through the many rooms of the airy house, you wonder how its sole resident isn’t lonely. Or perhaps he is. He doesn’t seem the type to admit to it. You turn your thoughts back to your work. You try not to think of him, truly, you don’t know much of him.

You take a candlestick and polish it. You move on the small globe; an ivory orb on a silver axes, the outlines of the continent carved into the surface. As you put it back, you notice something. An item you can’t recall being there before. You reach for it but stop as you realise it’s a camera.

You retract your hand and move on to dust the shelf itself. Does he not trust you or was it there before? Of course, somewhere like this would need security. There was a story just the other day about a break-in, but that was closer to your father’s where those culprits dwell.

The second floor is always easier. It seems even less lived-in than below. All but the study and the main bedroom. You flit in and out, checking points off the list until you’re content. You can only hope he will be too.

As you descend, the epiphany tickles your brain. It’s the first shift he hasn’t appeared. It’s easy to assume he’s busy. You don’t expect him to hang around. As if he would supervise you. Besides, that’s probably what the cameras are for.

You pack up and get your single refill of water. You leave the way you came, as you have twice before. The keypad flashes red to signal the lock is in place. You haul your kit higher on your shoulder and tread slowly along the little path along the side of the house.

You look at the gazebo trimmed in hanging ivy. It’s beautiful. You’d like to venture up and sit on that bench. Just sit and watch and smell and feel. You force the thought away and turn back along the stonework.

You’re going home. Not to pollen but tobacco smoke. Not to lush gardens but wilting strands in soggy mud. Not to immaculate floors and pristine decor but to stained walls and broken springs in your mattress.

Home, to another man that makes you nervous.

🧹

Your father is as he always is, smoking on the couch. You say hi as you come in with a bag of groceries, the prize for what was left of your check. He grumbles and flicks through the channels. You go to the kitchen to put away the food.

You’re almost at the end of your first month, a third of the way through your probationary period. Hopefully after that, you can pick up more clients. You shut the cupboard and go back to the living room. Your father coughs into a crumpled tissue. He sounds horrible. You can’t say so, he doesn’t seem to care.

“I got some fresh produce,” you announce proudly, “I’ll steam some veggies with the chops.”

“You get fries?” He growls.

“Uh, no,” you admit, “I thought we could eat something healthier–”

“I don’t like steamed veggies,” he drops the remote and grabs his pack of smokes.

“Oh, sorry, I was only thinking–”

“Don’t lie and say you were,” he snorts as he pulls out a cigarette and taps the end of the pack. “Go on, I’m tryna watch this.”

He nods at the television and you follow his gaze to the rerun of All in the Family. He’s seen them all before. You take the dismissal and retreat up to your room. Like you always do.

It’s always been like this. You don’t hate your father but sometimes it feels like he hates you. You put your kit and your water bottle on your dress and change into clean clothes. You lay in bed and close your eyes, trying to let go of the tension in your muscles.

You don’t remember your mom but he does. You assume that’s why he’s like this. It’s not you, it’s what happened. Tragic. A loss he won’t talk about.

You rub your forehead and let your arms fall to bend on either side of your head. You only ever saw one picture of your mother. You don’t think you look like her. She was pretty. And young. You were always too afraid to ask about her but you could tell she was younger than him. No one could’ve expected her to go so soon.

You close your eyes. It’s a strange sort of grief to miss someone who is only a shadow in your mind. Not even a voice, just this ghost you know by name. Mommy…

You blow out a deep breath in an effort to bid away the sadness. That was so long ago. This is now and you have a lot to worry about.

🧹

The Laufeyson house greets you once more with its elaborate brickwork. It’s starting to feel familiar, like a habit to put in the new code and walk along the winding path around to the back door. Six more numbers and you’re inside; shoe covers, gloves, bottle, and the list.

You always check the new email sent by the agency. There’s always something small and new squeezed into the bullet points. This week, you notice the first task is laundry.

‘Retrieve hamper from hallway. When hamper is left outside door, it means clothes must be washed.’

Easy enough. You go upstairs first and take the tall hamper from beside the door frame. It’s heavy and there’s no wheels to aid in your struggle. The laundry room is downstairs. Your descent is treacherous, one step at a time as you haul the basket down step by step. If Mr. Laufeyson is there, he can’t happy with the noise.

You finally get to the machine and follow the instructions about cycle type and separating colours from whites. However, there is only the bedding to be cleaned. You load the linens in and take a moment to figure out the touchscreen. Your father’s machine has a dial that only works on one setting and gives off a dingy stench.

You leave the basket in front of the washer and retreat to start your usual progression through the urban manse. Mop, sweep, dust, vacuum, polish; hallway, kitchen, dining room, sitting room… Nothing unusual or unexpected.

As you cross the narrow foyer to the den, the sunshine glows a warm orange through the slender windows on either side of the front door. The patterning of the glass reflects prettily on the floor. Despite your best efforts, you can’t help but imagine residing somewhere so brilliant.

You sigh and carry on. You’re sure to open the long drapes to let in the late spring sunshine. It’s not so bad working in the light and you can see where the rare spec of dust is hiding. You go to the tall shelf beside the record player and pull out the albums to wipe beneath them. Music would be jarring in a place always so silent.

You slip the albums back into place, pulling out one to admire the cover; Ane Brun. You’ve never heard of them. You read the track list curiously. You know you shouldn’t be wasting time.

“I don’t believe I’d have anything to your taste on my shelf,” the mocking slither has you pushing the album in line with the rest.

You almost apologise but you remember. You don’t speak. You just clean. So clean.

You glance over at Mr. Laufeyson as he struts in, a book held in one hand as his other is tucked in his pocket. He wears his usual pressed attire; a dark button-up and even darker slacks. You note that he has no tie that day. A single curl dangles by his temple as the rest of his black hair is precisely combed back.

You return to your tasks, gently wiping the cover of the record player and along the stand. You hear the book drop onto the low table before the sofa before his footsteps continue on; closer. He approaches as you get to the next shelf, a collection of EPs in unmarked sleeves.

You wince as he stops near you, flipping up the cover of the sleek record player before stepping back to peruse his selection. You do your best to keep on as he looms. The air is thick and suffocating. Should you go to the next room and come back?

He slips a record free of its sleeve and places it carefully on the players. He moves the needle over and flips the switch, a crackle before the sound drones from the tall standing speakers. Acoustic guitar with a gritty feel to it. The sudden addition of a woman’s voice jolts you; her tone is peculiar but not unpleasant.

When I woke I took the backdoor to my mind And then I spoke I counted all of the good things you are

He backs away without a word. Not an explanation. You finish cleaning the second shelf and dare to glance over. He reads his book on the couch, unbothered by your existence. That isn’t too unfamiliar.

You finish the space but leave the vacuuming for later. You wouldn’t want to ruin the music. You go into what you can only call a sunroom. The french doors peek out onto the garden and a patio set with a large dining set in white iron and glass.

The music drifts in and keeps you company. It almost makes the work easier. You make quick work and go to check the washer to switch over the load. Once you have the dryer figured out, you begin on the second floor.

It’s only as you come out of one of the guestrooms that you notice the silence is returned. You turn down the hallway and near the next door. You enter the study with your usual reverence. Something about the space is intimidating.

The large leather chair with its dimpled back and the even bigger desk; slabs of marble set into polished ebony. Shelves of a similar material, decked out with numerous volumes and the occasional ornament. Some appear even to be genuine artifacts. The rug at the centre is patterned in Persian style.

Behind the desk are a set of doors that open onto a balcony. The drapes are drawn shut. You find that is often the case. It’s a sombre and dark space hidden from the bright gardens without. Your tasks here are minimal. You use the hand vacuum and dust the shelves. You aren’t to touch the desk at all.

A shadow startles you as you drag the cloth along the edge of the bookshelf. Your eyes round and you look over as Mr. Laufeyson enters. You blanch but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He sighs and goes to the desk, sitting in the chair and wheeling it closer. You narrow your sights on the shelves; focus.

You feel a tremble but quickly shake it away. This is his home, he must be able to exist within it, but this feels strange, almost deliberate. Is he trying to make some point? To scare you? You remember the mention of those who came before you. Did they quit or did he dismiss them? Regardless, you can’t afford either.

It isn’t that difficult to follow the rules. Don’t speak? You haven’t much to say. You get closer as you advance along the shelves to the back of the office. He lets out another long exhale. His chair creaks, once, twice, and again.

“Hm,” he rolls back and swivels, an action you observe from the corner of your eye. He tuts and wheels back to the desk, resuming tapping on the keys of his slender laptop. The glow limns his silhouette sinisterly.

You rustle the drapes as you pass them and cross to the opposite shelves. As you brush over the spines of the books, you nearly drop the cloth. His low hum frightens you as he mimics the same melody that played from the speakers below. His tone is deep and sonorous, even delightful.

You squeeze the cloth and pause before regaining your composure. This cannot be a coincidence. The camera and now he’s following you. Or so it seems. Does he distrust you? What reason have you given him?

You are mindful to wipe down the bronze statue of what you assume is a viking warrior. You place it back staunchly, making sure your work is entirely visible to him. You are honest and you like to think you do your work well. Or at least, you try to. Perhaps if he sees that effort, he won’t be so suspicious.

As you head for the door, he quits his humming. His chair squeaks again.

“You are rather more thorough than the last,” he muses.

You stop and turn your head. You nod. He’s baiting you to break his number one rule.

“And you take orders well,” he adds blithely, “that is rare these days.” He taps a key again, “as you were.”

You take the dismissal in stride and flit off to your next task. It isn’t much, maybe only a statement of fact, but it’s something. He isn’t unhappy with your work. So far, neither are you.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #marvel #mcu #thor #avengers

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eddies-house · 8 months

Text

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

Smoke Signals

Chapter One - Damn Mailbox

W/C: 5K

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

Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

A/N: I'm super excited to start this lil series, I've had this idea for a little while and I can never resist writing total opposites, it's just so fun to explore their dynamic when they want to reject each other so bad. Also a lot of this fic is inspired by Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers (hence the name). As always I would love your feedback and any comments y’all have 🙂 OH and finally...the hugest largest biggest thank you to @uglypastels for beta reading and proof reading and all that good stuff, it was SO appreciated and really helped smooth things out ILY Z YOU'RE SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO 💜

Masterlist

Morning dew was like an old friend, someone you hadn’t paid attention to since childhood but felt so familiar with, so…safe. Maybe it was a little too ridiculous to find security in a few dew drops but arriving in a new town with a population of less than five hundred would have that effect. Twists and turns of windy roads unknown, trees larger than any house, and barely any infrastructure would all frazzle anyone not accustomed to its elements. Normally you wouldn’t get car sick but these roads were a beast you’d never encountered before in your life, stomach threatening to send back your lunch of tuna on white bread and a bag of Doritos. You refused to let bile even trace your tongue so with just enough self control, you swallowed any sickness down and pushed forward. Now you were hunched over in the driver’s seat, the door open as you sucked in the fresh mountain air, perfect lengthy blades of grass grazing the bottom of the door. Just before you, up the driveway made up of damp dirt, was home. A home you were a stranger to at the moment but hoped to at least become acquaintances with. Lower expectations created less disappointment. If you dive in head first, you can only guarantee yourself vulnerability and pain, slow and steady was the only pace.

It’s not permanent; you are just figuring things out.

It’s what you kept preaching to yourself during the altitude change, where flatter land transformed into large mountains, the tallest peaks coated in white. Where your ears popped and your brain felt pressure. And then shortly after, you were submerged deep into the forests, far from home, where you knew there was no going back for quite some time. It was a trial run although it didn’t feel that way when the moving truck packed with your life pulled up just minutes after you, delivering every piece of your life to some cabin in a secluded town that was nearly invisible on any map. Temporary was starting to feel foreign when everything felt more set in stone.

You’d think a town called ‘Knife’s Edge’ would steer you away and maybe that was the intent when it was first named; to ward off newcomers who had no business being out in the woods. But it only intrigued you. From what you could find out in a few tourism magazines, Knife’s Edge was not somewhere you went for a getaway, not according to the locals who were a tight knit community where everyone knew everyone. The economy relied on the small businesses down in The Village, on Main Street which according to your calculations was about five miles down the road and around the lake then up. That was the extent of knowledge you’d had on your new home and yes, maybe you should have gathered more information before daring to even place a down payment on some random cabin in the woods but when a new start calls, you either answer the phone or stare at it until nothing happens. The cabin was either yours if you paid the down payment or it would’ve been torn down and sold to the neighbor for more land which would’ve sent you on your way again, on a wild goose chase for a new place that you could fit into. Not that you were too sure that you’d even fit in here. But it seemed too obvious that this was where you were meant to be when the realtor advised that it was yours at a low down payment, a steal. So you’d try to make it work.

The moving truck’s door startled you, slamming against the top as two men got to work, unloading all your belongings. You figured this was your cue to exit your beat-up sedan to unlock the front door–wide-paneled and made of a beautiful dark oak. The crunch of pebbles and dirt alerted the movers to your presence where you let them know you were going to open up so they could begin their tedious process, one of them grumbling something incoherent in response. As you approached even closer, there were knicks and dents decorating the surface of the door but it seemed to add to the essence. The wooden steps creaked underneath your weight and upon glancing around the porch, you found two well built rocking chairs that the previous owner must have left behind. Other than that, there were pine needles and other debris from the surrounding nature caked in the corners, some scattered along the rest of the floor that would need to be swept up but it wasn’t an urgent task in comparison to actually setting up your bed and other necessities.

The lock was stubborn as you twisted the key but with one more persistent shove and turn, it clicked and you were able to push your way in, the hinges painfully squeaking as you made a mental note to pick up some WD40. The air inside was stale, smelling of dust and maybe a half hearted spritz of air freshener. Or maybe it was drenched in air freshener but it did little to nothing to cover up the smell of an old abandoned cabin; you weren’t sure. It was a modest size, the kitchen off to the right, tucked into the corner with a small island in the center. The living room was the first room you walked into from the front, the floorplan more open than you’d expected. A little to the left was a narrow hallway with shutter doors lining both sides, you assumed one side had to be the laundry. The door at the end had to be the bedroom and the door just before you embark into the hall had to be the bathroom but you had no time to explore right now.

Morning light trickled in through the kitchen window just above the stove, creating a beautiful hue against the wood paneling of the walls which you only noticed as you came back in, setting a box that was labeled ‘kitchen’ on the counter before rushing back out to retrieve more of your belongings. It was too early to be doing such strenuous work but that's what you get for securing a slot with the moving company first thing in the morning. In hindsight, you didn’t realize you were signing yourself up to meet said moving truck at 6:00 AM but in your defense, you’d never done this before.

By 7:00 AM the truck was fully unloaded and on its way out and with it went the grumpy movers, more than likely unsatisfied with the fact that they’d have to trek back down the mountain. You graciously offered them an extra twenty bucks which they gladly took but still appeared crabby nonetheless. Now for the part you had been dreading the most: unpacking each box and putting everything in its respective place. But first, you wanted to take it all in. You were right; the laundry was on the left side of the hall behind the shutter door and on the other side was a closet. The bedroom was settled right where you had guessed, at the end of the hall and rather than being empty, it now held your bed and mattress, sheets still yet to be found among the boxes labeled ‘bedroom’ in thick sharpie. The wallpaper was something you could do without but maybe you’d find time to peel it off later and replace it with something more to your taste. Currently the bedroom walls were lined with floral designs and pale blue stripes and if you could be honest, the design was a bit too busy for your liking. But it was a roof over your head for a good price so complaining was out of the equation.

At the opposite end of the hall, just off the living room was the bathroom, sporting a less off putting wallpaper of faded yellow and white vertical stripes. You first ensured your hygiene essentials were in place, toothbrush and toothpaste in a glass on the sink, towels on the rack, and soaps set up in the shower including shampoo, conditioner, and bar of Dove. Having these accessible was a priority, cleanliness being one of the most important factors of your daily routine.

Clothes were next and you’d forgotten a box in your trunk of your most worn items of clothing that you could pick through until you were fully settled. Lazily carrying yourself back to the driveway where your maroon sedan sat on top of the copper-toned dirt, you do a double take when you realize your mailbox was taken out, wood splintering out of the ground as the poor box lays among the grass at the edge of the street. From what you could remember, it was fully intact when you first drove up so you’re forced to conclude that the movers you’d tipped generously must have run it over and not given it a second thought.

The half of the mailbox that rested on the ground was a lot heavier than it looked and you would’ve thought it was made of cement just by the weight. You felt pathetic dragging it up the driveway, creating a prominent line in the dirt along the way. A brief break in getting the damn thing up to your porch has you about half way up the driveway, glancing around at your surroundings, only to finally take into account that you had a neighbor relatively close by, a cabin similar to yours only a few hundred yards away except it was a darker wood and a red pickup sat idle in front of it.

You braced yourself, catching your breath to continue hauling the mailbox back until you can figure out how to repair it when your eyes catch on figure, a man making his way down the steps of the cabin you’d just been analyzing. And you’re quick to shy away until you realize he’d already been looking at you, a cocky grin on his face as he slowly, almost tauntingly stepped off his porch. The way he walked closer reminded you of a lion declaring its territory, especially with the mane of curls he had, shaggy and brunette. He wasn’t close enough to allow you to examine any further; however, you caught the click of his tongue before he spoke.

“Gonna get splinters draggin’ wood around like that.”

It’s all he says, a toothpick between his teeth before he turns on his heel, combat boot digging into the soil and it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t offering assistance, he was simply picking up the hose connected to his spigot to rinse off his windshield which now that he’d drawn attention to it, was filthy with mud and leaves. He wore a red and black flannel which reminded you of a lumberjack but this man just didn’t fit that description based on your short interaction with him. Or rather his interaction with you. Your first indication was that he had no facial hair; he was clean-shaven. And his tight jeans that had black rips at the knees didn’t seem very suitable for a job that required a larger range of motion.

Without any further acknowledgement of your existence, he hopped in his truck and sped off around the bend without a care in the world. He was a resident douchebag and you’d never even spoken a word to him. You quickly realized you were still stood in the middle of the driveway with half a mailbox, grunting in protest as you lugged it the rest of the way up to the porch, leaning it against the railing for future contemplation on how to repair it or if you’d have to fork up money for a brand new one. That was a problem for future you and though future you would be pissed at past you for putting the responsibility on her, you had other things to sort out such as unpacking the rest of the kitchen so you’d be able to actually use it to feed yourself. And then of course you’d have to make your way into town a ways down the road to actually get groceries because not a crumb of anything edible was packed. Aside from a bag of Chex Mix that sat in the passenger seat of your car that you’d picked up at a gas station.

–

Going overboard was an understatement when it came to how much you’d actually gotten done. By 12:00 PM you almost had each room unpacked and put away, moving boxes discarded next to the front door to be thrown out later. Your plan was to finish off the kitchen and then go into town. Instead you finished the kitchen and moved from room to room with more motivation than you’d ever experienced in your life. Maybe it was the adrenaline of living alone, no one else could tell you what to do or where to put things. It was all up to you and maybe you were a little drunk off that power. Regardless, you were now worn out and that energy didn’t last very long. At least you had a freshly made bed for when you came back, that’s what you would reward yourself with.

If you go grocery shopping then you can come back and nap.

There were still various projects to be done, items to be organized, and objects without a home but for the most part, you could sleep peacefully with the work you’d done today. The floors were yet to be cleaned and the fridge still needed a good scrub down but that could wait until tonight after you properly refueled.

Humming to some song you’d heard on the radio earlier, you make your way out the door, patting your pockets for your keys and wallet, both of which you had before locking up and heading for the car. You rolled your eyes passing the mutilated mailbox, settling into the driver’s seat with an ache in your back from the grueling labor in the early hours of the morning. Shifting into drive and then rapidly back to park, you remember that these roads are foreign to you and that you could easily get lost and possibly become a bear’s lunch with your luck. With a tug, the glove box opens and reveals the map you had set in it before embarking on our journey. The map that was mailed to you of the town didn’t seem very complicated. But if you happened to make a wrong turn it could land you amongst some rocky cliffs which you thought better to stay away from. So you carefully examined the route to town, what the people here seemed to call The Village Square. You took the liberty of drawing your house on the map, a cute little doodle in blue gel pen and then proceeding to draw the rest of the route in the same blue so you’d always have it.

This was it. A fresh start where no one knew your name. This would be good for you. At least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

Goodbye someone else’s daughter and hello new self-made woman.

–

You weren’t lost. You were just…exploring.

Okay, you were a little lost but the signs for The Village Square kept passing you by and yet you found yourself also passing the same exact pine trees–and you knew they were the same pine trees because every time you saw them you thought ‘hey that kinda looks like a dog’. At some point it started to feel as if you were spawning in and out of some dimension until you finally turned into a lot directly behind one of the signs, sick of this game of hide and seek. There were no signs for parking which is why you’d passed by so many times in the first place, and now it seemed like you were behind a restaurant of some kind. This couldn’t be where everyone parked, right? Anxiety was pooling in your stomach and before you could sike yourself out, you ultimately decided to park and walk from here. You would only be a few minutes and hopefully you’d be able to muster up the courage to ask someone where to park from now on, even if it did make you seem like an idiot.

Leaves crunched under your sneakers, an obvious indication of the Fall season trickling one leaf at a time. As if you were a wary animal, you cautiously walked around the building, finding that it was someplace called The Bourbon; the letters written out in neon red lights that weren’t yet illuminated, the open sign in the window dull signifying they were closed. You let your eyes roam up and down the street, small businesses lined up all the way through and a few patrons, clearly with an agenda making their way along the sidewalks. It was a cute place, nestled in a little valley. Instead of plain old cement the sidewalks were cobblestone and overall it seemed to be a pedestrian oriented community with several cross walks and barely any traffic.

From here you had no idea how to get to Marvin’s Grocery, which seemed to be one of the only produce stores around according to your map. The others were a little more out of the way, your house conveniently only around five miles away from The Village Square. The shops you passed as you attempted to gain a sense of direction were exquisite. Mom-and-pop shops that either smelled of delicious baked goods or hunger-inducing aromas that filled your nostrils with savory goodness. The smell would haunt you in the best way for days to come. A candle shop piqued your interest, as well as a flower shop that bloomed so beautifully among the muted tones of the brick buildings around it.

Everything was so unlike what you were used to, back home things were more commercialized, built for quantity not quality. Here it seemed to be the polar opposite which you could appreciate. Corporations were the root of all evil and you had yet to see one single corporation among the several businesses you passed so far. People seemed friendly but also confused by your presence, offering you a meaningful wave accompanied by a puzzled expression written on every face you encountered. You were a stranger and it was becoming more apparent the deeper you found yourself in the square. Some people whispered and you happened to snag onto a few words, mostly grasping ‘is she new?’. In return, you graced them with a polite smile. It wasn’t like you to initiate small talk or approach new friendships. If they happened, they happened per the other party’s account, not yours, never one to try and stand out in the crowd only making this infinitely more uncomfortable for you, which was no one’s fault other than your own insecurity.

Eventually you were able to come face to face with the giant ‘Marvin’s Grocery’ sign which looked to be handpainted in big white letters outlined in black with a few cartoony carrots, a tomato, and a head of lettuce. Wandering around for an extra ten minutes and refusing to ask for help certainly wasn’t ideal but it did familiarize you with the shops you would soon be buying from on the regular. And it did give you a soft introduction to the small population of Knife’s Edge which despite the name, the people seemed lovely enough.

The store wasn’t the slightest bit crowded and it wasn’t very large either. A mother and her two kids skimmed one of the aisles while an older man pondered over the produce, apples specifically. Grabbing a cart, you begin gathering the items you had sorted out on a list in your head. First bananas, grapes, and blueberries, you didn’t want to bother with too much produce as it went bad fast and you were only one person so those would do for now. Then you moved on to pantry essentials, canned goods that you could stock up on and always have on hand. Green beans, corn, peas, baked beans, even soups such as tomato, cream of mushroom, and the standard chicken noodle.

You’d built up a cart full in no time, and by then, no one else was around so you noted that this time would be perfect to get your shopping done in the future so as to avoid as many people as possible. The cashier was a woman, probably in her early sixties who seemed not all that intimidating which you were grateful for. She smiles warmly and you appreciate the sentiment, grinning back at her as you place each item at the register.

“You’re new. But I bet you’ve already had an earful of that, haven’t you?” She lightly teases.

You laugh softly, avoiding eye contact while still trying to remain well mannered, taking notice in small glances that the woman’s name tag reads Donnie in bold red letters as well as the ‘help wanted’ sign perched up against the window. She seems friendly, a little rough around the edges though in the sense that she had several tattoos that disappeared into the rolled up sleeve of her blue crewneck sweater as well as a fire in her icy blue eyes. You could already guess that she was quite the character.

“Don’t let them scare you off.” Donnie carefully bags the eggs with a few more light items, her confidence radiating, as if she doesn’t even need to try, as if it just comes to her so naturally. Something you could only wish for every once in a blue moon. “We don’t get many newbies. They’ll get it outta their system.” Her voice is a tad scratchy but smooth otherwise, bringing a strange sense of comfort.

“Thank you.” A mouse may as well have been louder than you but you tried and that’s what counts, right? New people were not your thing but they would have to become your thing, moving to a place where no one knew you existed and all. Or maybe you could fly under the radar? It couldn’t hurt to become the mysterious outsider that spoke to no one although it wasn’t a very realistic ambition.

This was fucked. You thought to yourself in the solitude of your brain. Of course the second thoughts were coming now and not before you bought the damn property that tied you to this place. Initially, the idea was a temporary situation far from home but the deeper you delved into this town, the more permanent it started to feel. Not just anyone up and moved here and that was clear by the reaction you pulled from several onlookers. And yet you moved here, bought that damn cabin with the money left to you from your father’s estate, and ultimately, left everything you knew in a manic state. A mid life crisis in your early twenties.

“Miss, your change.” The woman broke through your thoughts and you must have shifted into autopilot, not even remembering handing her any money in the first place.

“S-sorry.” You mutter, collecting the filthy coins in your palm, shoving them into the front pocket of your jeans which you knew would be a pain to dig out later but again, that was an issue for future you. She hated your guts.

“No prob–”

It was abrupt, your exit but despite your rude departure, she called out “I’m Donnie!” and you never felt like a shittier person. She was welcoming you to her home and you didn’t even have the decency to introduce yourself. That’s how it looked at least, on the inside you were panicking and needed to isolate yourself immediately.

You must have looked like a maniac carrying your groceries in a near sprint toward the direction of your car. Everyone else seemed to move at such a mellow pace, not a single vein close to popping out of stress whereas you looked like you’d crumble under the slightest inconvenience. Which you would if you didn’t get to the car fast enough. A small misstep causing you to trip? No chance, you wouldn’t show your face again for weeks. Your groceries spilling all over the pavement because of said possible misstep? You would consider moving all over again.

Thankfully the majority of the walk back to the little lot behind one of many businesses was blacked out, your heart practically pumping in your ear the whole time. What you couldn’t black out from was the man-the same man from this morning smoking a cigarette as he stared at your car. Fear drenched you; you couldn’t gauge his expression with his back to you but you could guess he wasn’t going to be smiling with the way he was lingering, shuffling his boots back and forth in contemplation.

Announcing yourself felt like the most daunting task in the world, humiliation melting into your skin like an uncomfortable burn. Maybe some higher power heard your pathetic struggle because the crunch of your sneaker on a perfectly placed leaf called his attention to you, his head snapping in your direction instantly.

The urge to just run was strong but you maintained whatever cool was left within you, fingers waving at him weakly.

His expression was blank, unreadable. He didn’t say a word as you slowly inched your way closer to the vehicle, only eyeing your every movement like a predator protecting his territory, much like he did that same morning. The closer view of his face showcased his stoic yet soft features, eyes almost puppy dog-like but something glazed over them, a facade of some kind. Something that overtook the puppy dog nature they were capable of and replaced them with a cruel glare. The shape of his nose was endearing at least, rounded at the tip and tinted pink from the cold.

“You just park anywhere you want where you’re from?” He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tip of his cigarette toward the car.

Your shaky breath has him furrowing his brows at you, seemingly offended. It’s not in your nature to offend people but you can’t seem to stop doing it, especially today whether you mean to or not. But you definitely don’t think you mean to.

“N-no, ‘m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He mocks, scoffing before inhaling a puff of smoke once more.

“I-I uh, I’m leaving. It won’t happen again.” You rush out, all the while forcing yourself not to cry. “I just–I couldn’t find parking–I was driving around and—there was no–I couldn’t–”

“Don’t let it happen again.” He warns, stern but easing up on his intense demeanor.

“Promise.” You whisper, a tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek to which you quickly gather your grocery bags in one hand to swat away at your cheek. It’s too late, he already saw.

No empathy is detected in his stare, not that you feel you deserve any. It was just an observation. “Now, get out of my lot.” It’s a demand, a non-negotiable demand that if you were brave enough to argue, would probably have him towing your shitty little sedan.

So you nod, blinking back the water works as best you could while tossing your groceries into the passenger seat, him watching the whole time. With your seatbelt suddenly feeling like the most complicated thing in the world, you expect to look up and meet pure rage but instead your ears perk up at a few knocks on the window. Rolling it down as fast as possible with the manual handle, the man stands towering over you, cigarette abandoned sometime in between you getting in the car and struggling to remember how a seatbelt works. Did he have more choice words for you for illegally parking on what he deemed ‘his lot’? You really didn’t want to stick around to find out but you had no choice.

“Left on Main. Then right on Cherry.” His dark eyes hinted at hues of warm honey but they were briskly dismissed by his cold attitude.

“What?”

“Next time. So you don’t turn into my damn lot again.”

You still didn’t know what he meant by ‘his lot’ and you didn’t have the backbone to ask. You did however fully get the message that you were to never park here again and were now aware of which streets to search for to avoid it at all costs. You’d memorize every detail of it if it meant you could steer clear of the apathetic man before you. With a nervous nod, you were off, not once looking back just as he did that morning except he had more grit in his actions, you just came off as a scared church mouse. You never even caught his name and you didn’t mind not knowing it at this rate seeing as he was all bite and bark for no good reason.

This place never felt so far from home. Nowhere was home. Your heart was in a sense homeless, lost and longing for the connections that these people had with each other that you couldn’t seem to tap into even if your life depended on it. In all fairness, it had only been a few hours and you couldn’t gauge your success based on that but it was tugging on your brain like a parasite, eating away at your final optimistic thoughts.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t fit in.

The drive ‘home’ was flooded with tears and muffled sobs into your now sticky sleeve, coated in snot and if anyone were to pass you along the way you would look psychotic with how your face scrunched up at every exhale, doing your best to keep yourself quiet despite being the only one in the car. You were always doing your best. Always to please others. And it never worked.

~end~

Masterlist

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #bartender!eddie #eddie munson au #bartender!eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

415 notes · View notes

tossawary · 4 months

Text

Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.

But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?

Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.

Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.

Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.

I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)

But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!

Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.

#tossawary tolkien #long post

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odysseyeurobeat · 14 days

Text

Literally just me gushing about eurobeat

Y'know what? Tumblr, you get a little treat. I don't have much better of a place to post something long-winded like this, so here we are.

I love eurobeat music. Big surprise from the girl with it in her handle, right? But I don't just love one kind of eurobeat. No, I'd go so far as to say I love it all. This genre becomes an absolute buffet of delightful, energetic, silly fun when you forget about trying to look for ways it "doesn't count", and try to look for the ways it does.

I love early eurobeat! I love the stuff that's indistinguishable from early Italo Disco, the formative things where the tempo was still low and the disco vibes were still high! That's Eurobeat and the first few volumes of Super Eurobeat are great for this!

I love later eurobeat, too! Even if some of the sounds aren't always my favorites, I love that folks were trying new things and dabbling with new sounds, experimenting in ways that in previous years seemed prohibited! Comparing some aliases who have been going for multiple decades from this period to when they started is also super fun!

I love traditional eurobeat, if I could pick a name for it! Faster, more rave-influenced, whether or not it's still got some disco elements in it, themes about nightclubs and love and loss and betrayal and that ever-ubiquitous fire! Maharajah Night has some great examples, leading into the bulk of pre-200 Super Eurobeat volumes!

I love J-Euro! It turns out, folks in Japan have different ideas and tastes and approach the genre VERY differently than the folks in Italy do, and I love how it sounds! I love how the sound design is so different and the speed jumps a little higher!

I love indie eurobeat! I love hearing how new and amateur producers take a crack at the sound, and seeing what folks do as the tools for making it grow and evolve! Even virtual versions of the synths the masters used to use are available now, and it's fantastic to hear how those things sound in new hands! I love the ways indie producers bend, break, and work around the rules of the genre and still deliver a uniquely "eurobeat" experience! Without this category, I would never have found DJ Command, DJ Bouche, Turbo, Vikas Beatbox, the Galaxian Recordings crew, and so, so many more!

I love happy eurobeat! The nature of the genre makes it so straightforward to pair its signature energy with joy, delight, empowerment!

I love sad eurobeat! That very same energy that powers joy and happiness can be just as powerful for driving home sorrow and sadness, and some lyrics even carry strong emotional weight (we're well past the days of eurobeat being only about Burning Love Car Baby Fire Desire Tonight Drift Tokyo, y'know)!

I love fandom eurobeat! Yup! Vocaloid, Touhou, MLP:FiM, Vtubers; whatever you may be a fan of, chances are good there's a eurobeat remix out there (or even an original) that suits your fancy!

I love Initial D eurobeat! How could I not, right? The classics are classics for a reason, and eurobeat and drift racing are a uniquely fantastic pair. Of all the things eurobeat could be about, it's one of a few that really knock it out of the park!

I love feminine eurobeat! Masculine eurobeat is great too, but it already gets a lot of love in the other categories, so I want to celebrate those eurobeat songs that feel quite the opposite while still being perfectly eurobeat! Eurobeat is broad enough to express feelings like this, too!

I love songs that aren't quite eurobeat, but have elements of it! And I love eurobeat songs that heavily include elements from other genres, too! Eurobeat is like any other genre-- it has not always had the same chances to rub shoulders with other sounds in the dance space, but when it does, some wonderful things happen! And the whole music world is enriched for that cross-pollenation!

I love the songs I used to dislike! To think I'd go from vastly disliking Norma Sheffield's discography, to adoring it so fully! Disliking "Higher Higher More and More" to seeking it out from time to time! Not being fond of SAIFAM/BBB's style, to knowing some of its songs by heart!

And most of all, I love that I get to MAKE this stuff for a living! I do not take the fact that this could've not worked out trivially, and I hope I've rewarded your patiences well with a lot of new favorites and starting points for diving deeper into the genre over the last... almost 20 years, now!

And that's just the tip of the iceberg! I understand some eurobeat isn't to everyone's taste, but I think if you haven't tasted all that there is out there, you owe it to yourself to see how you feel about it. You might be pleasantly surprised!

#eurobeat #initial d #odyssey eurobeat #eurobeat brony #ken blast #super eurobeat #rambles

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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months

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Since you made a fanfic about the reader having a vision, I wonder how the archons will react to the reader controlling all the elements like the traveler. If you can do it, I would be grateful for your attention.

ooo i never thought about this before, i hope you like it! and please keep in mind that the more characters you ask for the shorter each segment will be because i don't want my posts getting too long as of current, i'm trying to keep things simple while i get back into the swing of writing :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, mentions of being held against will, obsessive behavior, slight threat towards reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would find it cool, but concerning as he doesn't want you to get any smart ideas. Do keep in mind though that even if you can use all seven elements, he’s still far stronger than you and will put a stop to any bold ideas. “Let’s remember who holds all the power in this relationship.”

Yandere!Zhongli would be concerned about you using it to your advantage. The only other person to do such a thing was The Traveler and he fears you may try to pull some crazy heroic stunt to get away from him. Of course, with the help of some lovely little geo cuffs, those little powers of yours are shut off real quick. “Don’t let greed get the better of you my love, power is not for the weak.”

Yandere!Raiden would merely scoff at you, believing that even if you could wield all seven it still wouldn’t be enough to stand up to her. The Goddess of Eternity is more than just everlasting, she is power. “If you intend to use any of those against me I suggest you think otherwise, lest you feel the wrath of your Archon.”

Yandere!Furina would find it so cool, asking that you show off some of your tricks! Of course she’ll show you some of her’s as well. She would allow you to have free reign of your powers so long as you do it only indoors and refrain from letting anyone else know. Only her and Neuvillette are privy to the information as she tells him everything, plus if you should ever step out of line and should she not be around to correct youm she can trust him to do it for her. “What a lovely talent you have there darling! Just remember, secrets stay inside the house.”

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ebbaskz · 7 months

Text

heaven and back | l.mh + h.js | (a,f)

masterlist

pairing: lee minho x han jisung x reader (y/n)

content: angst, fluff, unrequited feelings, college-aged, mainly just a silly y/n who is going through it rn.

word count: 2.6 k

Thursdays.

If there was one thing you could say about Thursdays, it is that they are the pure feeling of going to hell and back.

Actually, scratch that. You haven't even been able to come back from this hell of a day.

Nothing had helped. Even when buying coffee in the hopes of lifting your spirits, it had been extremely too bitter and ruined the entire drink. The attempt to get a nice walk outside during your lunch break had only left you caught in a rainstorm with no protection from the harsh elements. The walk back to your next classes should have been considered a walk of shame from the stares of your fellow classmates and your pure embarrassment of not checking the weather.

The one bright side of today is that you can now finally go home.

No more dreadful professors giving useless monologues or ignorant students on campus bumping into you when trying to leave class.

Just a nice, calm, soothing night left to enjoy by yourself--

***buzz buzz buzz***

On second thought, you might actually lose your mind before the night is over.

You take out your phone from your back pant pocket as you make your way up the stairs of your dorm building, hoping that whoever texted is either dying or needing immediate assistance (both of which you doubt are true as it could very well just be Felix blowing up your phone for the 6th time this week, asking if you would finally let him teach you how to play League of Legends).

ji ji ji ji baby baby : tell me you aren't busy tonight. minho and i ordered too much food to the dorm for the two of us to eat by ourselves... please come over? 🙃

Oh, nevermind.

I guess this text isn't as horrible as you thought it would be.

I mean yes, you could very easily just get into bed and sleep off the last torturous 9 hours of your life as you have dreamed of doing all day.

or....

You could definitely take up Jisung's offer of eating some free food while also being able to hang out with the two men who you are absolutely infatuated with.

Yes, it's a bit of strong of a term to use when referring to two men (yuck) but it's just the truth. From the day of college orientation three years ago, when your childhood friend, Hyunjin, introduced a few of his closest friends to you (Minho and Jisung included), you have been a strong group of 9 since.

All of the boys are nice, but Minho and Jisung just happen to be the ones who have kept your attention since the first day of meeting them. From their adorable dynamic to their love for their friends, there is no reason to prevent anyone from falling in love with both of them...

other than the fact that they are already dating eachother.

Logically, it's impractical. You are the third-wheeling, pining over two men who already exclusively pine over eachother. If anything it's so damaging for you to be so close to them while having these feelings, but can anyone really say no to Jisung when he asks so sweetly.

y/n : for sure, ji! i can be there in 15 minutes, if thats okay?

You scratch your forehead a little while waiting for a response, wondering what you should change into before heading over there. Obviously something comfortable, but also maybe something a little nice so that they could be impressed or-- no.

They are dating. Stop. You are just friends. No romantic opportunities, unless you feel like home-wrecking your two bestfriends (probably not the best option).

ji ji ji ji baby baby : yea that works for me and min! just lmk when you are here and i'll come get you from the front of the building.

And cue the stomach butterflies.

You know how to get to their dorm from the front of the building, but every time Jisung insists on coming to get you from the front door. It's such a little gesture, but it never fails to get your heart beating and you checks burning.

It takes you a few minutes before you are finally back out of your dorm, taking your time to pick an outfit, fix your hair, and retouch your makeup after the rainstorm that you struggled through earlier.

The walk to their dorm is pretty quick, only 7 minutes on a day with some good pep in your step (aka a day like today where you are practically running to their front door).

y/n : I'm here 😗

ji ji ji ji baby baby : omw, y/n! we need to eat before the food cools down too much. minho is getting hangry and I cannot handle him when he is hangry.

Jisung is downstairs in less than a minute, making it seem like he's the one who was practically running to see you. Or maybe that's just your mind trying to give in to your delusions...

"Y/N!" Jisung screams a little while picking you up into a hug, "I need us to get back upstairs quickly before Minho decides that he is tired of waiting for us."

You giggle a little at that statement, knowing that Minho would never start to eat without Jisung. He would not be able to handle the pout that would show on Jisung's face if he found out.

Thats when your heart pangs for the first time tonight, already feeling hopelessly doomed to be the third wheel before even seeing Minho.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~

Dinner is going by smoothly. The lo mein and miso soup that had been ordered by Jisung and Minho was a little odd considering you are the only one of the trio who eats lo mein, but you pushed that thought aside. The food was delicious nonetheless.

The pangs kept happening though.

When Jisung would stare at Minho with such adoration that you felt like a spectator on the sidelines of a romance show, rooting for the main characters to be together while simultaneously wishing that you were them. When Minho would get up from his seat to get something from the kitchen, having to pass by Jisung and giving him a loving pat on the head every time, causing Jisung to smile and spread a blush across his puffy cheeks.

It was getting to the point of pain where you had just needed to step out of dinner into the bathroom just to take a breather, convincing yourself that you can get over this and be able to just be best friends, nothing more.

breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in, ou-

"Y/n? Are you okay?"

It was Minho.

You hadn't really felt like you had been in the bathroom for too long to be concerning but a glance at your phone screen surprises you when you see that you had been standing there for over 15 minutes just trying to ground yourself.

A look up in the mirror is also a sudden surprise, seeing tears running down your face, leaving your makeup disheveled and streaking down your cheeks. When had you started crying? Probably sometime in between thinking about your horrid day to thinking about your pitiful love for two men who don't feel the same.

"Yeah-" sniffles "I'm all good Minho. Just-" sigh "Just give me a second and I'll be out..."

Just stop, y/n. You are not making this day better.

And then the door open a smidge. I guess you forgot to lock it.

Even though the door is barely open, it's still enough for Minho and Jisung to see your reflection in the adjacent mirror with the mascara tears running down your face.

The door is no longer open a smidge, being forcefully shoved open by Jisung as he pushes past Minho to get to you, engulfing you in a hug that only fuels the tears.

"Y/n... What's wrong? Please talk to us. Well, cry it all out first then talk to us". Jisung says while speaking into the side of your head, making you chuckle through the tears at his attempt to humor you in your times of turmoil. You wish you had a Jisung like this all of the time.

"You do have me, Y/n? What do you mean? I'm right here, so is Min."

Yikes. Nothing is going your way tonight. First, they see you sobbing. Next, you say your thoughts outloud.

This instantly humbles you and brings you back to where you are, immediately attempting to apologize for whatever you just muttered out of your mouth, "Ji- I mean- I know I have you, but like- I just- I wish I also had someone like you, you know. Like you and Minho". This was clearly such poor phrasing as you watch Jisung pull away to fully face you and give a little look of shock with confusion written across his features.

"What do you mean- Like me and Jisung? You want a boyfriend, y/n? Is that what this is about?" Minho announces this from behind Jisung, making you unable to see the slight look of hurt that flashes on his face.

You look up from where you had been looking at your feet, trading your eyes between looking at both Minho and Jisung. Your brain is being wrestled right now while trying to find the words to explain how you don't want just any boyfriend but the two boyfriends who were standing in front of you.

"Not that, exactly..." You finally manage to mutter out after bullying your mind to produce any answer to stop the two from looking at you with such concern and hurt for you. "I just can't explain my problems to you two..." You look away from the two boys, not being able to watch them as you try not to break down further.

"Y/n if this is something serious, you can talk to us..." MInho pipes up, Jisung grabbing your hand for reassurance, causing you to turn your head back toward them.

Your logical side seems to be taking over for the first time, in a long time, telling you to do what you know needs to be done for your own sake.

"I think I should take a break from seeing you guys..." You finally said it. The words you knew needed to come out eventually to allow yourself time to heal and get over this silly infatuation.

But, the look that you then saw on their faces might have just killed you right then and there. You don't think you have ever seen them both be so in sync with their expressions, synchronizing their faces of hurt and sadness in a way you didn't know you could hurt so much from.

"You.. What? Why?" Jisung asks, his voice cracking a little and letting go of your hand to step back towards Minho, allowing Minho to leave a comforting hand on Jisung's shoulder.

If you wanted to run away ever in your life or sink into a black hole, it would be now. The embarrassment of this whole situation and your reasoning behind why you need to do this just simply cannot be explained to them without ruining everything.

"Did we do something?" Minho asks with no faults in his voice, but a single look you take towards him shows that he really is trying to maintain his composure.

If there's anytime to say anything. It'd be now. Your relationship is already changed. There's no going back.

"It's not you guys. It's me," You say while looking at both of them, powering through what you are about to say even with seeing their heartbroken faces, "I just cannot do this anymore. Being around you two all of the time is so painful because you guys are just so happy and in love, and I would do anything to be like you. Not with other people..." Here it goes. "but with both of you. I cannot handle being around you guys while I am helplessly in love with you both. Just give me some time, and I know I can get over this..."

Well. There it is.

You finally said what has been torturing you for years, laying it all out on a platter for Minho and Jisung to observe and pick apart.

But thats not the reaction you get from them when you check back in to register their facial expressions. It's bizarre. Minho looks almost relieved while Jisung looks.... happy? Where you missing something? Was this what they wanted to happen?

Before your thoughts can go any further, you are tossed into a hug between both Jisung and Minho, rocking you back and forth and holding you so tightly.

"Are you serious, Y/n? You actually had me so horrified I thought we were going to lose you" Jisung mutters into your shoulder.

You are still so incredibly confused as you manage to let out a quiet, "...What?..."

You are finally released from the grasp of the two hugging you to be faced toward Jisung, "Me too. I mean- like I am in love with you, too. So is Minho."

This information actually shatters any ability to function that you had left, only being able to repeat the word "Huh?!" while looking at Minho to confirm what Jisung said, to which Minho nods.

"We always have, Y/n. We just didn't really know what to do about this because you never told us anything or made it seem like this was mutual. I thought we would always be stuck as bestfriends." MInho says this so gently to you while reaching up one of his hands to cup the side of your face and caress your cheek so lightly with his thumb. I think this is the first time you have ever recognized Minho looking at you this way. It's the same way you notice him and Jisung look at each other everyday.

"You guys love me?..." You manage to get out while bringing up a hand to hold Minho's hand that is resting on your cheek. This is a surreal moment for you. What you have been fearing as the break in your relationship as a trio may actually be what causes your relationship to grow further, into....???

A nod comes from MInho, "Can I kiss you?" he asks ever so sweetly.

A simple nod is given in return, a silent conversation that you and him exchange in before he initiates the kiss.

It feels like a dream. Finally being able to feel his lips on your own after years of pining. By holding onto the back of his head, you keep him close to make sure that this is real, and he isn't leaving.

That then makes you think about Jisung, who's simply standing to the side, mouth agape and blushing across his entire face at the two people he loves kissing eachother. To Jisung, this is like a dream come true, but he does want some attention from you (casual Jisung behavior).

He tightly grabs ahold of your side, turning you away from Minho and guiding you towards his own lips. The moment you and him meet is as electric as it was with Minho.

The pangs in your heart are no longer from the pain of unrequited love, but now a pleasurable pain of an overwhelming love from those two boys who have captured your heart.

Maybe this day has finally had its come back from being a burning hell, reaching the sweet and blissful heavens that we all dream of.

a/n : ahh my first fic on here. I hope to only improve from here and I apologize for rushing the ending haha. lmk if anyone has any requests or ideas, i'm open to writing anything - eb

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #lee minho x reader #han jisung #lee minho #stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #kpop #Spotify

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mysadcorner · 1 year

Text

Keith Kogane Dating Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted for requests -

Masterlist Navigation

Requested: no

• Relationships for Keith will always be hard, especially the beginning stage, when he’s spent so long being closed off to most of the people around him. He would need to trust and care for you deeply before this ever crossed his mind and considered being with you.

• Keith is very bashful and shy when he first tries to open himself up to you as he really isn’t used to it; however, once he realised how god the relationship is for him he’ll start to do this with more ease.

• Keith would need the support of the other paladins in his relationship with you due to his own insecurities and need to be secure. But they like you so there’s no problem, and almost immediately you’re welcomed into the group like family.

• He needs a long term relationship, Keith really isn’t the type of person to enjoy a fling. Once he opens up to you it’s pretty hard not to love him, and even though it’s hard for him to express himself like some of the others he still shows you how devoted he is to you after a long time of being with him.

• To get Keith to open up you would either need to go through something extremely dangerous together or open up to him first. His emotions make him feel very vulnerable, but once he knows that he can tell you anything you’re always the first person he looks for to confide in.

• Keith isn’t a big fan of PDA but there are times when he’s in need of small gestures of affirmation or reassurance. Things like holding his hand or keeping you leg next to his remind him that you’re there with him during stressful times.

• He could never be with someone who he found to be disloyal or didn’t value commitment fully. If he’s giving himself to someone he expects just the same back and wouldn’t let someone be so close to him otherwise (this is included in friends too).

• Keith would give all of himself to save you or to help you when you’ve been attacked or hurt. He would prefer for you to stay out of combat and those situations entirely, but if this isn’t preventable then he’ll do his best to make sure you’re alright in the end.

• One the trusting element of your relationship together has been established then Keith wouldn’t have a need to become jealous or mad at anyone you’re interacting with. He may get moody from you giving your attention to someone else, but this all goes away once you’re back with him.

• Arguments with Keith would usually consist of silent treatment after an explosion of shouting. He wouldn’t be in an argument over something little (he’s good at looking past minor flaws and incidents) it would more so concern your safety or something that had gone terribly wrong.

#keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane x you #keith kogane x y/n #keith kogane headcanons #voltron #voltron x reader #voltron x you #voltron x y/n #voltron headcanons #voltron netflix #Netflix Voltron

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baiwu-jinji · 1 month

Note

I highly reccomend reading some of the changes in the revised version, as some arcs became very different there, in particular the Brocade Immortal arc and the Fangxin Guoshi arc, with more context added into LQQ and LW's characters in particular (and also more Hualian moments hehe).

As for QR, the changes on the chapters he first appeared on where, instead of HC making them arrive to QR's lair, LQQ was instead convinced by HC to confront QR... Who was near the royal masouleaum, and in this version anyone considered a "traitor" to Xianle ends up being severely weakened there, and this includes LQQ and XL, which made QR able to chain them, beat XL up and force them to fight eachother basically. Other changes on QR in the revised version include:

-QR working with resentful spirits from Xianle instead of human Xianle rebels and trying to haunt/kill LQQ since the beginning, as well as them killing all of the royals, King included (XL hacked their bodies to pieces to prevent ghost shenanigans from happening and that's where the misconception that he's the culprit began in the revised version). XL later sealed QR for a bit after this too.

-Instead of calming down a little after XL ascended (on XL's request), QR was said to become even worse after that in this version.

-Overall more manic. The idea of his obsession having incestuous undertones probably comes from some lines that were added, like "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll say things I shouldn't.", which are accentuated in the audio drama (which is based off the revised version), but I think your interpretation on this is more likely.

-QR was using a decoy in the masouleaum, but after he was beaten by HC, XL and LQQ, he was too weak, so he convinced a suicidal, alcoholic gambling addict to give him his body... And that man was Guzi's father. Viewing Guzi as a burden at first, he ambushed XL after the lantern festival so he could take care of them.

-No inn scene apparently.

The rest didn't change much as far as I'm concerned. This revised version really makes the whole "XL as QR's subconscious father" subtext more evident to me, from QR constantly calling himself his "little brother", pleading XL to stop HC from beating him in the masouleaum (right after he beat up XL no less), to wanting XL to take care of him and Guzi after he got his new body (and while it may just be my interpretation, I really felt like QR was probably envious of LQQ and his bound with XL too, as explained in a previous ask).

Overall MXTX seemed to make him more unlikable, probably to hammer home the "toxic fan/hater" subtext of his character, but she didn't completely remove his more human elements either, so his character arc is thankfully mostly the same.

Hi! Thank you so much for outlining the changes regarding Qi Rong, and if we all agree that Qi Rong is a stand-in for toxic fans, then it's a little...worrying that MXTX depicts him as even more vicious and unlikable than before, because this would probably mean that her views on toxic fans hasn't softened over the years despite the fact that she has left social media for so long, and the damage and hurt they brought upon her probably still hasn't gone away...

I'm assuming people have heard that MXTX returned to JJWXC yesterday, announcing that she won't be working on the 4th novel she originally planned, but she's not retiring from writing either. In the meantime, TGCF has be unlocked on JJWXC and the revisions to the novel have been updated. I will start reading the revised chapters promptly, and share with you guys any thoughts I have :)

#tgcf #Qi Rong #MXTX

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demonslayedher · 2 months

Text

A messy ramble about sword decor

Kimetsu no Yaiba was sleeping on menuki, man.

That came back to mind today while visiting a museum exhibit of very fancy sword mountings (like so), because I am me and admiring very realistic metal insects and tiny metal carvings of Tale of Heike battle scenes will always come back to my fandom brain rot. The menuki specifically were on my mind because they are decorative pieces on the handles that hide the mekugi, which are key structural elements--pegs where the handle is attached to the blade, and where some might say a soul is put into a sword.

And, a few years ago while KnY hype was at its height, I heard some people who seemed to try to talk down the hype, saying, "the swords don't even have mekugi! Those aren't real Japanese swords!" Which means a lot to most non-nerds, I'm sure.

True, a lot of the Nichirin-to don't include visible pegs in their design, which you could argue is just because they are covered up with other wrappings on the handles. But realism really isn't a concern since Sanemi and Shinobu would probably constantly stabbing themselves with those tsuba.

So anyway!! The tsuba! The handguards and what they say about the characters is a very, very nice touch, and I love wondering if the swordsmiths designed those fully based on their own imaginations and perhaps what crows told them about the kids (like "he was a charcoal farmer" or "he's a Rengoku") or if the swordsmen got any chance to put in their own requests on the regular ("I was a charcoal farmer, I don't know what to ask for" or "Sabito had one like this"). It's also fun to see the creativity involved in creating the scabbards for unique swords like Shinobu's and Iguro's.

But we can do so much mooooore!

I love the simplicity of the Nichirin-to. They are elegant and purposeful, with engravings being earned and standardized. But they are also beautiful, and the general idea must be "if those swordsmen are putting their lives on the line, we will give them powerful tools, but they might as well get to enjoy something decorative for the rest of their likely short life." The menuki would have been such an opportunity for this, though the details would be hard to spot in both anime and manga format. So instead I just want to ponder the possibilities.

Shinobu:

I was very inspired by all the metal inlay bugs and the butterfly motifs I saw today. I love the elegant engraving on the scabbard, and that her tsuba takes part of the traditional Shippou (Seven Treasures) pattern to make a vague butterfly shape. But I also saw one today that have a wisteria shaped menuki (and other bug motifs!!). But also, knowing her, she might be pleased to have a decorative little fish tucked behind the cords.

Sanemi:

I LOVE THE VIOLENT PINWHEEL. What a whimsical way to express wind! Speaking of bugs, why not give him a rhinoceros beetle, symbolic of fighting spirit? After all, I even saw realistic little snail ones today, anything goes. And while we're thinking wind--

Rengoku:

Wind chime??? Even the balloon flower pattern like was on the wind chime in that scene makes a lovely metal engraving pattern on other mountings on the scabbard. Totally unrelated, but today I say a brand of tangerines called "Shiranui" (the same name as the First Form of Flame Breath) for sale at the store, so heck, why not an apricot theme somewhere too? Orrrrrr you can also work with a "heart" theme to compliment all the flames. Oh, speaking of hearts--

Mitsuri:

Mitsuri's tsuba might look like four hearts, but this is actually an uncommon but traditional spin on a cherry blossom motif. Aside from all the possible ways you play with a cherry blossom motif, the traditional "inome" protective pattern is nowadays considered romantic because it looks like an upside-down heart. There's a lot of nice ways of using that shape, like a window in the a tsuba, or in her case, maybe to frame some other pattern used as part of an engraved piece. Speaking of "inome" though--

Inosuke:

"Inome" means "boar's eye," though it looks more like a boar snout. Kanamori could have done all kinds of things with this motif, or even used little boar-shaped menuki! Not that any of those efforts would have mattered.

Iguro:

Clearly the snake theme could be used a lot, but why not be more creative? He's actually a pretty sensitive dude, and my read on him is that he seems to like scenes that imply "purity," partly because he ses himself as so tainted and doesn't dare taint anything pure. Nature motifs like snow, or the elegant snow-moon-flowers triple motif suit his poetic soul nicely, and snakes are considered a water element (makes sense that his Breath stems from Water Breathing), so some water related theme could work too. In this same vein, snakes are generally considered as much as water element as dragons, so giving him a dragon item would also fit just fine with a snake theme.

Himejima:

Hard to think of this one in the same way as the others, but I'm sure there are methods for decorating it. Like, what does he even use as a scabbard? Maybe he has a nice strong brocade or woven cord for wrapping up the chains? There are so many ways you could work in Buddhist themes for him, especially the six characters used to write "Namu Amida Butsu" (but that's already all over his haori). There's gotta be good themes out there (both of Buddhist origin or general Japanese folk and/or poetic culture) to play on the idea of "strength." Oh heck, just give him a little Benkei-related motif, or a motif related to a famous demon slayer of the past.

--ON THAT NOTE--

Wouldn't it be cool if, like there are "Tale of Heike" themed menuki, there were menuki celebrating famous moments in Corp history? Maybe it was suddenly very popular to make menuki of Uzui vs Gyutaro once that momentous battle occurred? Uzui would love that. You could also have more subtle history, like motifs shaped like The Marks, which the swordsmiths have maintained in their traditions without knowing why certain symbols became associated with certain Breaths. If Yoriichi hadn't been disgraced, he probably would have been a common theme too.

Uzui:

ALL THE DECOR, but what about fireworks all over the shiny lacquer? Or the scene in Tale of Genji in which Genji stands in a storm at the beach (a hidden reference to the names of each of Uzui's wives)?

Muichiro:

GINKGO LEAVES, MAN. And the moon because it would be ironic.

Tanjiro:

What if he had a little SUNSHINE on a simple menuki?? Something nice and understated! Or even his fox mask!!! Or--oh, oh, oh---

Giyuu:

WHAT IF THEY HAD MATCHING FOXES

Also, it would be very nice if there was some useful of the waves and clouds pattern on the metal pieces of his scabbard.

Zenitsu:

There's already a lot of lightning and triangle on this sword, and I like how his matches Kaigaku's. I could see this being a situation of Zenitsu getting his sword polished and using the opportunity to ask for any number of cute and auspicious decorations and being flat out told, "no, this is what Thunder Breath swords look like."

Kanao:

Freaking flowers everywhere, but I also saw a crest today that had three butterflies in a circle around a flower, and it was repeated all over the sword, especially the lacquer of the scabbard. Wouldn't that be a cute reference to the sorts of people who inspired her to learn Breath technique and then sneak off to the Final Selection?

Genya:

He has such a very typical straightforward tsuba you'd actually see in real life. You one of the menuki themes I saw today? One one side, it is a "speedy demon" running off with a stolen stupa (which has the relics of Buddha inside), and on the other side, a Buddhist protective deity running after the demon with a sword. WHAT A FUN PAIR. Something like this would be such a cool way to reference his reliance on the Nenbutsu for Repetitive Action, too. But give that deity a glock.

I realize that a lot of this is very casually referencing motifs and hidden cultural details I've referenced elsewhere in various posts throughout this blog. I am far, far too lazy to go link those. Hopefully they're all properly tagged as "KnY Nerdery." Anyway, since you've come this far, here is an obligatory "SWORD BABY" photo because I always like photos when I get to hold tamahagane.

LOOK, A BABY SWORD, ISN'T IT BEAUTIFUL???

#SWORDS SWORDS SWORDS #kny nerdery

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beyondtheglowingstars · 10 months

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Mario and Luigi boyfriend headcanons

What is it like to have them as boyfriends?

🔥 - He loves to give gifts.

🔥 - That thing you were looking at with interest from outside the shop’s window? Consider it yours a couple days later as a surprise gift. He kind of overdoes the gifts a little on your birthday, though.

🔥 - Just be careful if you need to watch over your weight, because he’s totally bringing you ice cream or treats whenever he can. Let him know if you can’t eat those things, he’ll back down because he wouldn’t want to bother you.

🔥 - Would totally tell others about you, and how awesome you are and how lucky he is to have you when he sees the chance. But don’t worry, he’ll stop himself (most of the time) before a ramble begins.

🔥 - He would give you the most beautiful and elaborate bouquets of flowers for special occasions. If you have any favorite flowers, they’re guaranteed to be there.

🔥 - This. Man. CANNOT. Say. No. To. You. He’s physically unable to. Use this power wisely.

🔥 - Doesn’t mind PDA. You could pick him up in a hug, spin him around and he’ll welcome it without issue. He’d actually feel a little cocky on the inside, because to him it’s almost like wordlessly bragging about how he has you.

🔥 - If you’re not one for dinner nights outside, then you’ll have the most perfect ones at home. Candles and everything.

🔥 - He has an extensive, mental-recipe book that he’ll use to cook you almost anything. Whether it be an Italian dish he’s familiar with or some other type of cuisine, he’ll make it for you; dessert included (though he might actually ask for a little help from Peach for anything that might resemble a cake even slightly).

🔥 - He’s also a pretty good cook, might I add.

🔥 - Loves movie nights with you.

🔥 - His favorite part of movie nights is getting to cuddle you, or being held by you like he’s a teddy bear. He loves either of those options, he won’t complain at all.

🔥 - Do be warned, all that physical contact tends to make him fall asleep on you rather frequently.

⚡️ - Unlike Mario, he’s not as big on gifting things. He’d rather show you his love and care by being there.

⚡️ - Do not be mistaken, he 100% has some surprises ready for you when a special day is coming up or he knows you really want something. His brother just kind of gets carried away.

⚡️ - He actually quite likes having the more unconventional dates with you (granted that it’s safe, of course), if that’s something you’re willing to participate in. He likes to try new things to keep it fresh and create the more valuable, unforgettable memories with you; and hell, he might even discover a new like for himself.

⚡️ - He’s not too big on PDA, it makes him very shy but he doesn’t really mind more subtle gestures like giving/receiving quick kisses on the cheeks or forehead when you’re not in heavily populated areas.

⚡️ - However, he really enjoys holding hands in public, he’ll do it with a grin. He thinks it’s the perfect way to proudly show everyone else that you’re with him without being too direct.

⚡️ - Talk this man’s ear off with your interests. Just do it, he loves to see that glint in your eye that shows you’re in your element. He’ll listen carefully, ask questions and might even get into that thing himself, doesn’t matter how “dorky” you or anyone else thinks it is.

⚡️ - Likes to engage in philosophical discussions with you if you entertain him, he won’t really do it with anyone he’s not close with fear of being called weird, though.

⚡️ - He might not be too big on PDA, but it doesn’t really matter because you can do anything with him once you get home. He loves when you play with his hair and whisper sweet things into his ear.

⚡️ - Actual sleepyhead and Mario doesn’t hold a candle to him, it can be the middle of the day and he’ll fall asleep in your arms. All of those soothing touches have him out in no time.

⚡️ - Likes to leave you little, hidden notes with encouraging words.

⚡️ - Has a separate set of fancy outfits and cologne for your special dates.

⚡️ - Might get a tiny bit jealous of Polterpup if you give the dog way too much attention.

⚡️ - He ADORES movie nights with you.

⚡️ - Doesn’t matter if the movie you’re watching sucks really bad, he’ll find a way to point out or say something extremely funny about the film you’re watching so you both can remember the night as something more than ‘it was bad’.

#super mario bros #super mario bros x reader #mario x reader #luigi x reader #smb mario #smb luigi #character headcanons #cosmic writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 16 days

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Sweaty Palms 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous.

You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect.

The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money.

Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow.

You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through.

You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in.

You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here.

You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing.

Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look?

“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.”

“Sorry, I...”

“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.”

“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.”

“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.

He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog.

“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.”

“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.”

“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--”

The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock.

“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.”

“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you.

“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.”

The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration.

“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?”

Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation.

Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls.

“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.

You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you.

“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him.

“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man.

The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor.

You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you.

“No problem,” he rasps.

“I... you didn’t have to--”

“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.”

“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.”

You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update.

“You need help with something?” The man asks.

“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.”

He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those.

“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown.

“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen.

You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face.

“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction.

“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.”

You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated.

“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.”

“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.”

“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.”

“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.”

“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck.

“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.”

He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do.

“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.”

“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate.

“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.”

You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless.

“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand.

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name.

“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture.

“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.”

You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.

“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?”

You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause.

“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...”

You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this.

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #drabble #gym au #au #sweaty palms #snowpiercer #series

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