#we know orange doesn't do things without reason

[itachanta]

Vash's face when he was reaching for the rope Meryl threw at him is hilarious.

Bonus:

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #girl you throw lassos like a pro #where did you learn to do that #also #i love how that rope is used throughout the show #first meryl catches him #and even saves him with it #in this scene #and then is vash who saves her from knives #like a lifeline between the two #and the rope is also among vash's things in the cover of the vol.1 of the bluray #so i guess is an important parallel & detail? #we know orange doesn't do things without reason #they save each other in different ways #and that's what makes me feral about those two #vashmeryl #tristamp

[formosusiniquis]

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

[c0eu4]

Can I request something? If not it’s ok

Reader being Landos younger sister and he catches his teammate and his sister really deep into making out

OP81 | Caught ♡

Summary: Y/n is the apple of Lando’s eye. He always protected her from everyone. Well, that's what he thought until he realized that she's not that innocent... Especially with his teammate.

Warning: smut, dom!Oscar, sub!reader, Y/n Norris

A/N: I hope you were talking about Oscar when you said teammates 😔 (And if it wasn't about him, tell me so I can make another one :)

part one - part two

MASTERLIST requests are open

She walks through the paddocks, looking for her brother. Her orange t-shirt proudly bears the number 4 on the back, but is slightly hidden by her long hair.

She goes to his driver's room, to the cafeteria, she even goes to Ferrari to see if he's with Carlos but he's still nowhere to be found.

She returns to McLaren's private premises and takes something to quench her thirst. The heat is in full swing in Spain. She's supposed to go back to the hotel with Lando but it's going to be complicated if he doesn't answer the phone and is nowhere to be found.

''Lando went to the gym.'' She jumps and turns around to see who had spoken to her (even though she had already recognized the person with his Australian accent.) ''He asked me to drive you back to the hotel .'' Oh my God. Finally she will have a chance to be alone with him.

Since they met, it was like love at first sight for Y/n. She only had eyes for him. Of course, he didn't even notice her that much, too focused on race. But Y/n, she couldn't stop thinking about him. And unfortunately, Lando quickly noticed, doing everything possible to avoid the two of them being alone. Y/n loves Lando. But he's too protective. She has always had to hide every relationship she has from him, for fear that her boyfriend will run away.

''You heard me?'' He passed his hand in front of her, visibly annoyed. She feels herself blushing, stammering words. ''I..uhg..yes, yeah.. sorry.'' He chuckles. ''Am I destabilizing you, Norris?'' She feels herself blushing even more. ''No!'' She sighs, feeling shame sticking to her cheeks.

''Do you still have things to do?'' He runs his hand through his hair. How she loves it when he does that. ''No, you need to grab something before we go?'' She shakes her head as a no and he walks, followed by her, to the exit of the track. They go to his car and he starts driving.

She doesn't dare to move the whole way, too afraid to get his attention. This may be the longest car ride any of them have ever had the opportunity to take. Embarrassment is felt throughout, with none of them daring to speak.

Finally arriving at the hotel, she quickly gets out of the car and closes the door without slamming it, for fear of making him more annoying (she was traumatized because of Lando.)

He walks her to her hotel room, since their rooms are opposite each other. She searches in her pocket, then in her jacket, then in her purse. No no no no... it's not possible... she, who thought the situation couldn't be more awkward. It's Lando who has her keys.

She turns to Oscar, who understands directly. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair again. ''Tell Lando to hurry up. You will wait in my room.'' On the one hand, she's like 'oh my god, I'm going to stay alone with Oscar in his room.' but on the other hand, it's more like 'Oh no, shame, I'll have to wait with him.'

She follows him into his room. It's like hers, a simple bed, a television and a door that leads to the bathroom. Nothing very extraordinary.

''Do you mind if I go take a shower?'' She shakes her head as a no and hopes he'll take his time, just to ease the awkwardness between them.

She sits on the bed, not really knowing what to do. She sends a message to Lando, literally asking him to come save her.

Meanwhile, Oscar takes his time in the shower. Not because he doesn't want to see Y/n, but more for a masculine reason. The icy water runs down his naked body, trying to deflate his now hard member. But he can't help but think of Y/n, in the next room. He grunts, not even managing to wash his body without feeling a thrill of pleasure because he's so excited.

His thoughts wander to y/n, naked, touching herself. ''Uhg..fuck..'' No no no no. He needs to get his act together. He comes out of the shower, his member still hard. He changes and tries to hide the bump on his sweatpants as best as possible.

He opens the bathroom door and runs his hand through his damp hair. He does this all the time when he's embarrassed. And he hopes she hasn't noticed.

His first mistake when he sees Y/n again is to stare a little too long at the bottom of her thighs, her shorts revealing her skin a little more given the position she was in. His second mistake was imagining himself between her legs, rubbing against her.

''You ok?'' She asked him, her voice was so innocent. ''Uhm I.. yes.'' She chuckles, understanding that she has an effect on him. Unfortunately for Oscar, his bump wasn't hidden very well with his gray sweatpants. ''Am I destabilizing you?'' She reuses his words that he said earlier.

Oscar takes a while to respond. He doesn't know if he should say 'yes' to her and go all out by kissing her or say 'no' and probably never have this opportunity again in his life. He thinks about Lando. To the conversation they had earlier this year,''Don't even think about fucking my sister once in your entire life.''

Well. Fuck you Lando.

''Yes you are.'' She looks at him, shocked. She expected anything but that. She sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard as he moves a little closer to her. ''Since I met you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. That's why Lando never leaves us alone together.''

His eyes widen. She doesn't know what to say. But she feels the excitement building in her body. Without thinking twice, he sits next to her in bed, placing his hand on her cheek. He surprises himself by being so confident. His cheeks turn as red as hers.

''Can I?'' He manages to say, their lips a few centimeters away. ''Yes.'' He feels her breath on his lips and doesn't wait any longer to stick his lips against hers. Her lips are soft and warm. He tastes her cherry Labello on her lips. She doesn't push him away but welcomes him with open arms. She places her hands in the crook of his neck, pulling him towards her. He takes the opportunity to slip between her legs, deepening the kiss with his tongue. He caresses her inner cheeks, his hips grinding against hers. She can't help but moan, sending shivers down his spine.

His kisses go down on her jaw, her neck and her collarbone. ''Why did I wait longer?'' He asked him, making her laugh softly. She lets her hand trail through her hair, playing with a few strands. He plays with her t-shirt, pulling it slightly, ''Can I?''

She nodded slowly, blushing even more at the idea of Oscar seeing her so naked. ''I need word, sugar..'' He whispered to her, his voice rough and full of lust. ''Yes..please..'' Her breathing quickens when Oscar's hands caresses her thin exposed waist, removing her t-shirt completely.

''Ah-ha.. Oscar..'' He takes off his t-shirt, his kisses descending on her chest. He feels her gesticulate slightly because of the pleasure he gives her.

''I..I need you.'' Oscar smiled mischievously. ''Are you sure?'' ''Yes!'' He doesn't wait any longer to undress her completely and gets up to rummage through his suitcase. He returns with a box of condoms and some lube. He places them next to her and also undresses himself.

She watches him do it, her eyes filled with love for him. She refrains from moaning at the sight of his imposing member, watching his hands slide the condom over his length. He opens the lube and drops some into his hand, jerking himself gently to spread the liquid.

He gets on top of her and she feels his member between her thighs. ''Do you want me to warn you?'' She shakes her head as a no, waiting for him to enter. He kisses her nose, pushing his length slowly in her.

The feeling is...strange? It's the first time she's felt so stretched. He gives her time, not moving at all and his gaze remains fixed on her every movement. He takes her hand and entangles her fingers with his. She uses her other arm to put it around his neck, keeping him close to her.

''You're ok?'' He asks her, to be sure that she's not feeling uncomfortable. ''Yes. And you? You're in a good position?'' He kisses her cheek. ''Don't worry about me, darling.''

He moves his hips against hers, making her moan slightly. He almost takes out of her, then goes back in with a wet noise. ''Fuck you're so tight..'' He moaned, keeping a slow but pleasant pace. He allows himself to speed up, increasing the volume of the moans that echo through the room.

He hides his head in the crook of her neck, muffling his loud moans. ''Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!'' She keeps moaning, her hips moving at the same time as him.

This is probably the first time that Oscar is going to cum so quickly. He feels so good inside her. And he waited so long for this moment. The ball of excitement in his stomach is about to burst.

''O-Osc-Oscar..I'm..Uh..I..Fuck..I'm.. cumming..'' Her eyes roll back, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave of bricks. Her walls tighten around him and he barely takes a few seconds before his eyes close and he releases his hot seed in the condom.

''Did you just spill in my sister!?'' None of them have time to collect their minds before they turn their heads and see Lando, frowning and obviously very angry.

They were so involved in their lovemaking that they didn't hear Lando come into the room.

''LANDO!'' She grabbed a cushion and managed to throw it at him. Oscar withdraws from her hastily, reluctantly and pulls the blanket up over their naked bodies.

''Get dressed and Y/n, join me in your room. We need to talk.'' Lando is cold and strict in his voice. What he saw really didn't please him. He walks out of the room and slams the door behind him. Y/n meets Oscar’s gaze and they both laugh softly.

He gets up and gives her her clothes again, helping her to get dressed.

Once done, he can't help but kiss her tenderly and let her leave her room, stressed for her but also for him.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #piastri #f1 smut #fluff #help he's so hot #smut #lando norris #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar smut #oscar #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

[that-basic-simp]

You're Beautiful

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.4k+ A/N: Inspired by the "You're Beautiful" scene from Princess Mononoke. Also uses he/him pronouns throughout the majority of this. Eventually switches over to she/her.

It started with a legend, the legend about someone having the eyes of the purest of blue. So blue that they looked like diamonds, stark like the sky, and cold as ice. Piercing that whenever they glanced your way, it was like icicles being thrown from their eyes and into the hearts of those who dared glance upon them. That their eyes looked like the onryo's. How they looked so full of hate and vengeance. So much hate could be held within their eyes that even those who dare oppose them, were struck down right where they were. There was no such thing as mercy for these demons. These monsters. Or so I thought.

"They say that this man has the eyes of a demon, that he had to wear something to cover them up," a man from my village laughed with the others.

"Did he kill anyone with just one glance?"

"He almost did, but we chased him out before anything major could happen. Thankfully, there was no harm today. But that doesn't mean there won't be any next time."

"I heard he's camping at the outskirts of the village," another man chimed in.

"Maybe we can jump him in the middle of the night. Slit his throat and let him bleed out. The world is better off without the likes of him."

Hearing this made me wonder what was so bad about this man. They were describing what he looked like, but did he do anything wrong? To me, there was no reason to want to kill him. If he was simply just passing through, let him pass through. There will be more issues with him dead than if they just let him live. Or maybe they wanted to let him die. Maybe they wanted to kill him solely because of who he is. I had to put a stop to that. Or at least see who this guy is before I make any assumptions.

Grabbing a few of my things, I walked out of the backside of the village, towards the outskirts of where we were. It was a bit of a walk since our village outskirts were well into the woods. This guy might have walked to the outskirts or has walked further past it. Either way, I was going to find him. I shouldn't have left when it was dark, but if I left when it was light out, I would have been caught and returned back to my parents. Even then, I wanted to get out of there. I wanted to live my own life and not be told how to live it.

Reaching past the outskirts and out of the woods, I was met with a marvelous sight. The coast. The moon light reflected off the dark water and it appeared to be glowing almost. The water looked so calm and as I walked towards the edge of the cliff, I heard a twig snap behind me. Quickly turning, I found someone walking out of the woods and into the clearing. They had a large hat on, navy blue cloak, a scarf tied around their neck, and their head was tilted downwards. Tilting my head to the side, was this the onryo they were talking about? Didn't seem like he was one to me. Slowly lifting his head, there were orange tinted glasses on his face. Squinting slightly, I saw it. The eye shape. They were round. They weren't typical for a Japanese person.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

I raised my hands, showing I was defenseless.

"I am not."

"Were you followed?"

"No."

He turned and scanned the woods for a second before turning to face me once more.

"What are you doing out here?"

"My village talked about this man. About how he could kill someone with just one look from his eyes. Eyes that looked like ice. The purest of blues."

The man was silent. A small gust of wind brushed past us, making his cloak flap in the wind slightly.

"Go home," he said before he turned away, about to walk back into the woods.

"Please," I rushed towards him. "I need to know if you're that--"

I stopped abruptly as he pulled out his sword, the blade nearly a few inches from my nose.

"Go home," he said in a hushed whisper. "Or I will send you home."

"I just want to talk."

"Why?" he glared at me.

Even if I couldn't see his eye color, I could sense this was the man they were talking about. About having blue eyes like an onryo.

"I want to know if those rumors were true."

"True about what?"

"If you do have blue eyes. The eyes of an onryo."

Before I knew it, I was laying on the ground, the tip of the blade against my throat. The man was kneeling beside me, his hand tightly wrapped around the hilt. The lip of the hat was covering his eyes, but it wasn't like I could see his true eye color. The glasses were hiding them.

"Never call me that again," he said every word with venom. "Or else you will be going back to your village dead."

"They'll come and find you if you do that."

"Or, maybe I can kill you here and let your body rot until nothing but your bones are left."

"You wouldn't."

The tip of the blade sunk an inch deeper, still not drawing blood, "Try me."

"Please, I just want to see."

He sighed. Reaching up, he pushed his hat back to where the string was around his neck. Slowly raising his hand, he grabbed his glasses and removed them. Hidden underneath that orange tint were the brightest of blue I have ever seen. They were pure, too. The most pure I have ever witnessed. They were stark and piercing like the ice. It was amazing to see such a pretty color like that. Not only that, this man, he was handsome. But as I looked closer, there was something different about him. He wasn't a man at all, was he?

"You're not a man, are you?"

"How do you know?"

"I can just tell. The forced deeper voice, the shape of your face, how delicate it looks while also being sharp. Your topknot is not sitting confidently on the top of your head like other men. Not to mention when you put your hair up, you deliberately leave the sides long to act as sideburns. Because if you don't, you'll be found out."

"And what if I am a woman? It doesn't change a thing about me. I'm still an onryo," she sneered.

"So what if you are?"

"What if I'm what?"

"What if you are an onryo? They're right. You do have eyes that look like they can pierce through skin. There is emptiness in them. A rage I have never seen before."

I let out a small laugh. This next move might make or break me here. It will determine if this person lets me go with my life.

"You really are an onryo."

The blade pushed deeper to where I felt it penetrate skin, some blood tricking down my neck.

"Enough. Speak anymore about that and I will cut your throat and leave you here."

"But," I said.

The harshness in her eyes started to fade slightly as she waited to listen to the next words I say.

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

The hand around the hilt loosened, as well as the pressure. There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Like she was finally being understood by someone. Someone she never knew and will most likely never see again, giving her a compliment she probably never received in her life. If I was going to be the first, I was going to be the last.

"I-I--uhm," she shook her head. "Don't think you can try and win me over on this."

"I'm being serious."

"Y-You're not just saying that to get out of this situation?"

"No," I said. "I am speaking the truth. Your eyes are beautiful. You're beautiful."

She pulled back the sword and stood up, stretching her hand out so I could take it. Grabbing it, she pulled me onto my feet.

"T-Thanks," she said, putting her glasses and hat back on.

"What's your name?"

"Mizu," she said.

"Y/N," I said. "And your name is beautiful, too."

A small smile appeared and disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I-I must go now."

"Will you return?" I asked.

"Why?"

"I want to get to know you, Mizu."

"You're better off without knowing who I am," she said and started to walk back into the woods.

"But will I see you again?"

She stopped, her cloak flapping in the wind once more, "I highly doubt it. But it's best you forget about me."

I shook my head, "Who could forget those eyes of yours? Some may say they're empty and full of anger, but I see beauty behind them."

She stood there for a few seconds before she walked off.

"Be safe, Mizu," I called after her.

There was nothing from her, but I stood there, watching her disappear into the shadows of the woods.

#mizu x reader #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai

[sillyyuserr]

A longer, more in depth (9 parts all in one) terukane analysis, and/or everything i could find, compiled (one of my better pieces of work imo) ⭐️

Ok so it might be the fact that i ship them so i see alot of things they do as possibly romantic even when theres no romantic undertones, but the amount of times it feels like AidaIro seems to be implying that teru likes akane is getting to a suspiciously high number. Like lets look at this from a non-shipper’s pov

Item A: teru looking at akane

If you told me (with context) this was a STRAIGHT man looking at another STRAIGHT man, i’d be a little iffy (for lack of better words). Without the fact that he’s looking at akane, he genuinely looks like he’s showing something of raw emotion, unchanged by his “fake persona” but a genuine reaction. I mean i wouldn’t say “omg hes so in lovveee!!!” But considering he doesn’t really open up to like anyone, i think this is definitely something.

Item B: them going together on a romantic outing

Yes i did make it sound much more compelling then it actually is but cmon man. The school festival is considered a “romantic event” and these two spent the entire time hanging around the school together. Giving the excuse that "it's our job being in the student council" (which i guess it is) but in reality it was because no one wanted to come with them.

Which i mean they also did technically go on an actual date together

also nene looking like a hamster 😭😭

Item C: teru trusting akane more than anyone (?)

Teru likes talking to akane, trusts his intellect, and considers him someone he can rely on but doesn't like it when his whole world starts to revolve around aoi. My guy, that's jealousy.

He is shown to trust him and even show his back to him in multiple instances, knowing he wont hurt him, and he’s someone he can trust (lets ignore what happens on the literal next page)

Even literally being one of those “i fight alone” type of people but when akane’s there, he’s never fighting alone

Item D: not sure if thats whats happening here but im pretty sure he tried rizzing akane up, even going as far as to blush, all so he doesnt rule him guilty

And then got agitated when it didn’t work

Item E: akane knows teru better than we think

When kou and teru were fighting, the reason teru even walked out in the first place was because of the fireworks. And whos idea was that?

Akane’s. He knew he liked fireworks and that they’d lure him out of his room. And again, he was right

Item F: valentines day event

i dont think i even need to break this one down. Its a picture of JUST them TOGETHER posted on VALENTINES DAY. 2/14/24. THE ANNUAL HOLIDAY THAT CELEBRATES NONE OTHER THAN ROMANTIC LOVE. Also teru’s color being used as akane’s sparkles and akane’s color being used as teru’s sparkles kinda shows that AidaIro arent just showing us two characters, they’re showing us TERU and AKANE, TOGETHER. If it really could be anyone im sure they’d put them in a general setting, but with the paired colors i’d say that says otherwise.

some might say they’re looking at eachother

Item G: possible fruit symbolism

first off, this picture.

First lets look at hanako’s. We can see he has two drinks, both red + with strawberries, along with a red straw. While also being pictured near other red fruits.

In this picture, nene’s flower(s) are literally strawberry flowers, putting the association between strawberries + nene out there. Meaning the strawberries in his drink could be purposeful, along with the red undertones. (red being her eye color) (sorry for quality im doin this on iPhone)

Moving on to teru’s, he has one drink, being yellow-ish with pineapple on the side, and chunks in the drink itself. Whilst his straw is orange, while also being pictured around a ginormous pinapple

And this isnt the first time we’ve seen him pictured with pineapples

This god awful picture unfortunately exists so im adding it as proof/evidence for my argument. (Oh and not to mention akane has green pants on so everyone’s a lil funky igs)

notice how as soon they got to his house his outfit changed? This is him when they got to his house (clearly in a long-sleeve shirt, not the hoodie)

this is him with akane + nene going on a date

All within the same chapter i think, but him changing outfits i feel like says something. Like we’re supposed to associate that with something other than aoi (them talking ab how to save her at his house) or his family. He even straight up left when they started talking ab how they missed aoi at the karaoke place. (More or so when he left they started talking but ykwim) Since nene is being associated with strawberries it leaves the only other person to be akane, this making sense also because of the straw color. (The straw being orange)

also the fact that fruit is literally associated with the queer community

Item H: triangles + queer symbolism

Quick history lesson, A triangle has been a symbol for the queer community, initially intended as a badge of shame, but later reclaimed as a positive symbol of self-identity. In Nazi Germany in the 1930s and 1940s, it began as one of the Nazi concentration camp badges, distinguishing those imprisoned because they had been identified by authorities as gay men. In the 1970s, it was again, reclaimed as a symbol of protest against homophobia, and has since been adopted by the larger queer community as a popular symbol of queer pride. More or so, the upsidown triangle. and guess whos ALWAYS wearing a fucking upsidown triangle

My guy has one for EVERY OUTFIT 😭 also im not even shitting you i would add more but ive reached the limit of 30 photos per post

Item I: extras

This picture. Him holding akane’s shirt and aoi’s bag really shows that AidaIro REALLY doesn’t want us to know which one he likes 😭 (if you’re confused, to sum it up AidaIro did a really good job keeping teru’s stance on the “love triangle” between akane, teru and aoi, ambiguous. If you are STILL confused go check out my other analysies i only have like 5 other posts, they go more in depth ab it)

Him looking at akane after he ate his “home made cooking” 😭 ALSO HIS EYES?? Dude they’re glistening. And the slight blush too

In the “kiss comic” part of the art book, not only are teru and akane’s on the same page, but they also look like they go together

Thats all i got for now (´-ω-`) MAN this took me like 5 different consecutive days. I wrote like 3 parts on one day, 2 more parts the next, and 1 more part today. 😭 hope you enjoyed and this re-gave you faith that terukane might be canon one day 😔 fake it till you make it

Feel free to comment and tell me ab anything i may have missed!! :3

#aoi akane #minamoto teru #akane aoi #aidairo #tbhk #terukane #analysis #real

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

y/n developing Stockholm syndrome and every time Eddie leaves she always clings to his leg begging him not to leave. He rubs her head kissing her forehead before he heads out the door <3

tw: stockholm syndrome, daddy!eddie, dark!eddie, k!dnapping implied, crying, toxic relationship (obviously lol), smut implied, nicknames (princess, baby, sweet girl, etc.)

--

small, soft kisses on your bare shoulder awakens you from your dazed sleep, and you tighten your fingers around eddie's hands that are interlocked with yours against your chest before turning over and snuggling up closer to your captor's boyfriend's naked chest--the only thing between the both of you is your little pink bunny rabbit eddie got for you that you haven't let go of since it was handed to you as a gift for 'being so good, sweetheart..'. His hands pet your head softly as you nuzzle your face impossibly closer to his neck, inhaling lightly and wrapping your legs around his as to feel closer to him--you just need to be close or you'll lose your mind.

he smells so good: like strawberry shampoo, his cologne, and a hint of cigarettes--he just smells of home to you.

there's a calm silence that coats the both of you like a blanket--and you aren't exactly asleep, more so in a relaxful daze with your eyes shut blissfully. the evening air filters through the windows of eddie's trailer, the breeze tickling your skin, eddie's hands roaming up and down your back as he kisses the side of your head before you feel him pull away a bit.

"daddy?" your voice is soft but a little scratchy--your eyes adjusting to the orange-y light that peaks through the blinds, filtering into the room. huh, you both must've slept for a few hours. you and eddie both went to play in the secluded lake earlier on in the day ---or rather, you splashed around in your cute little pink flowy dress and eddie watched, lying on the grass and smoking a cigarette. when you both got back, your once flowy dress now taut to your body causing eddie to lunge at you once you closed the door to the parked trailer. for two consecutive hours he licked, pounded into, rubbed, and kissed every sweet spot you had. then, you both fell asleep.

as your eyes adjust to the light, you sit up in bed, crawling towards your daddy as he pulls on a pair of black jeans and a shirt plus a leather jacket. "hey, sweet girl, i just gotta go out for a bit, okay? have to pick up some stuff," he ruffles the hair on your head and your pout deepens before he leans down and gives your lips a small peck.

is he leaving without you?

ever since eddie took you away from home, you have gone with him everywhere.. he never wanted you to leave his sight. but that was the beginning when you didn't know what you wanted--when you didn't want eddie--a concept that was now foreign to you.

you quickly get up and out of bed, scurrying after him as he tries to find his pack of smokes. "w-what do you mean you gotta go out? i can get my shoes 'n we can go together!" you propose desperately, heart pounding.

is he really leaving you?

eddie doesn't play that close of attention to you as he looks underneath pillows and other things to now try to find his wallet. "uhh, yeah, baby, about that..i gotta go alone, but i'll be back in an hour at least, 'kay?--fuck, where is it?" he murmurs the last sentence to himself as he throws his shirt to the other corner of the room, finally finding his black wallet.

you, on the other hand, begin to cry; tears sprouting from your eyes as your bottom lip begins to quiver. eddie finally notices the state your in, immitating your pout as he wipes the warm tears that flow down your plump cheeks away. "aw, poor girl--don't worry i'll be back before you know it," he tries to reason, squishing your cheeks together to create a deepend pout on your lips so he can give them a gentle kiss.

once he lets go, you begin to beg. "i- please let me go, daddy! promise, i-i'll be a good girl, please! i wanna go!" you sob, and eddie smiles gently, but with a slight condescending manner hinted along the way his lips curl up.

"baby, you can't..daddy's got some shit he has to take care of so we can live without a worry, okay? it's only an hour tops.."

he moves to the door, his hand on the knob before you drop down to your bottom on the ground, hugging his left leg close to your chest, tugging on his pant leg as you cry, tears bleeding from your eyes, dipping into the bowl of your cupid's bow before trailing onto your bitten lips.

"(y/n)," he warns, trying to move you away but you continue to cry.

"p-please!!" you try to say more than that, but it all comes out jumbled and broken. "n-need you.."

eddie takes pity on that--he also loves seeing you look so cute and doe eyed looking up at him--but he also feels bad that you are panicking so much.

however, he has to go, and he can't take you with him tonight. he needs to take care of some really important things, and as much as he absolutely despises leaving you, he can't have you witness what he is going to do.

he shushes you, rubbing your head tenderly, wiping tears from your wet face. "'s okay, puppy," he whispers, bending down and kissing your forehead--a good, long peck. you begin to calm down, letting go of his leg as he kneels down next to you on the floor, holding you close and kissing your head, temple, cheeks, and finally, your lips.

you think you've gotten your way, maybe he will take you! but you are sadly mistaken, eddie kisses your forehead one last time, pets your head and stands up as you look up at him, hope glimmering in your eyes.

"i gotta go, sweet girl, okay? how 'bout you set a movie up for us for when i get back, hm?"

your breath quickens and your heart beats faster as tears begin to build in the corners of your eyes.

"n-no!" you wail, but it's too late, eddie's already kissed your forehead, said his 'i love you, princess', and left.

#dark!eddiemunson #daddy!eddiemunson #daddy!eddie munson x reader #daddy!eddie munson x little!reader #dark!daddy!eddie munson #stockholm syndrome

[potatocitytechnology]

Sweet Like Pumpkin Pie - S.JN

Kinktober Day 2

Face sitting: also known as queening or kinging, is a sexual practice with one partner sitting over the other's face.

INTRO: One fall day, you decide it's time to let go of your worries. Turns out you're a natural freak in the sheets and Johnny loves it.

GENRES: Smut

PAIRING: reader (afab) x boyfriend!johnny suh

WARNINGS: profanity/swearing, face sitting (F), face riding (F), a little body worship, more dominant Johnny but mostly no power dynamic, marking, hair pulling/scalp scratching - overall explicit content - PLEASE, DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THIS POST/BLOG IF YOU'RE UNDERAGE. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

WORD COUNT: 1.86k (remember, size doesn't matter)

AUTHORS NOTE: Okay. I'm already a day behind but we got this team. Also, I've noticed that my posts aren't coming up under the tags for some reason? If anyone is coming from one of the tags lmk cause it would be cool to see who is. Otherwise I'm trying my best to fix it. Anyways, enjoy October 2nd! (＞﹏＜)

*unedited*

It wasn’t something you never discussed, yet it still took you by surprise when Johnny suggested we actually try it this time. “I want you to sit on my face.” He states, no hesitation in his voice because he clearly knows no shame. It is Johnny after-all. 

You stutter over your words, trying not to choke on the words as they get stuck in your throat. “Um, are you sure?” You ask. It’s not that you don’t want to sit on Johnny’s gorgeous face, it’s just that you haven’t done it before, the activity foreign. 

A chill runs up your spine as your eyes cast past Johnny’s shoulder, watching out the window. Green leaves on your cherry tree turning orange with the call of fall. You’re almost envious of how pretty it turns with each season, but fall being the most beautiful concept on it in your opinion. 

Your eyes meet his again, determined mindset in tow as he gives you begging eyes. Johnny never wants to push you, that’s why you’re so glad he’s your boyfriend, but you need to give too. Besides, this will be fun and with Johnny you will be safe. 

You nod, “Okay.”. He smiles, giving you a peck on the lips. “It’s gonna be so much fun, baby. You have no idea how long I wanted to do this with you.” His excitement sends a thrill of excitement through your body, the feeling stopping at your lower stomach. God, he makes you wet without even touching you. 

You tread behind him as he leads you to your shared bedroom. You must admit out of the two of you, Johnny is most definitely the more adventurous lover. He always wants to try new things, but you always say ‘maybe’ or ‘next time’, though it never happens next time. To be honest, this is probably the only thing off ‘vanilla’ sex that you’ve ever done. It's more than a little sad.

His hand reaches for yours, squeezing you lightly in reassurance as he shuts the bedroom door behind you. His hand then leaves yours in favour of joining the other as they wrap themselves around your waist, the rest of his body leaning into your back. “I got you.” He mumbles through your hair. “Waited so long, gonna make it worth it.” His voice darkens as each word leaves his lips, a shiver running up your spine. 

“I trust you.” You gulp, voice sounding small. “I know, baby.” He hums, his hold on your body firm and safe, just how you like it. He gently runs his hands down your stomach until his fingertips grip at the fabric of your sweater, tugging it up. You grin, taking the hint and lifting your arms as he discards both your sweater and thermal. He kisses your neck, goosebumps following his fingertips.

Next he gets down on his knees, surprising you as you clutch his shoulders. “Johnny what’re you-” He silences you, a ‘shushh’ leaving his lips as he pulls your sweatpants down. Lifting your ankles, he throws them behind him, your bare legs catching his attention. Smiling, he begins kissing the flesh of your thighs. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” he mumbles against you. 

“Stop teasing.” you whine, annoyed that he’s not touching you where you need him. “I’m not teasing, just showing you how much I love everything about you.” His eyes lock onto yours as you look down on him. “I want you to always be comfortable coming to me if you want to try new things.” Returning to his assault on your thighs, you moan. His affirmations and sweet kisses driving you mad. 

He nips and bites at your sensitive skin, marks following the path of his mouth, but you don’t mind. All the more of him to feel tomorrow. His attention spans from your knees to above your belly button. Butterflies erupting in your stomach everytime he gets closer to your aching pussy. 

When he finally peels away your dripping panties, you’re practically panting. Your head feels lighter as all blood seemingly rushes to your core, the heat he’s kindled making you hot to the touch. He licks across your pelvic bone, the sensation making you breathe faster. His tongue swipes just a half inch from your clit and your body shakes. 

He grins, eyes mischievously peering up at you, “you’re so sensitive, baby.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes half-heartedly. “I wonder why.” is your completely sarcastic response. You want to say, how the fuck can you not be after the torcher he’s putting you through? It’s a wonder you’re still standing while he taunts you with the promise of a mind blowing orgasm. 

Your hands grip his hair as he pokes his tongue at your clit, finally giving you something. You don’t even try to hold back the moan that escapes your lips, ecstasy filling you for a short moment before he stops again. 

This time you groan in frustration, your nails accidentally scratching the surface of his scalp a little harder than you intended it to. A sharp hiss that draws into a hidden moan passes his lips, making you laugh internally. His slitted eyes glare up at you as a smile tugs at your lips. “Oops.” you add to the silence, the insincerity clearer than you meant for it to be. 

“Alright, let’s do it then.” he announces and you nod your head, wanting nothing more at this point than to sit on his face. “You sure you’re ready though?” He questions, a pointed and soft look that shows he genuinely wants to know if you’re ready. “Johnny, I’m practically leaking like a dam. Please, I want to do this.” He nods, sucking in a breath. “Okay, baby.” 

He stands up from his knees before grabbing your hand and bringing you to the side of the bed. He smiles at you, proceeding to pull his shirt over his head. You’ll never get used to the sight of Johnny’s body, he really is gorgeous inside and out.  

Going ahead, he climbs onto the bed, lying down in the centre and pointing at you. “Come’ere.” You obey, crawling to him and sitting back on parted knees, hands between your open thighs. Johnny can’t help the groan that leaves him as he strokes up your marked thighs, mouth salivating. 

“Now you just gotta put your knees beside my head, baby.” He says, leaning back to rest his neck on the mattress. You follow his instructions, moving to place your knees on either side of his head so that you’re facing down his body. He places a hand on your thigh, stopping you. “Not that way, baby. Turn around, I want to see you.” 

You gulp, a weak ‘okay’ your response. Turning around so you’re facing the headboard of the bed, you see his eyes peer up at you through his long lashes. You hover above him, your nerves now distracting you from how turned on you were, Johnny notices. 

Quick to distract you from your thoughts, he licks a path up your inner thigh, collecting the juices that drip from you. You’re too high for him to reach, still hovering above his face. He grabs your hips, swiftly pulling you down onto his already parted lips. You are then left with no room in your mind to stress as it quickly fills with pleasure. 

His tongue moves with skill around your clit, the feeling so foreign yet familiar. Of course Johnny’s eaten you out, just now like this. It’s so new it feels taboo to you, which only turns you on more as his warm tongue darts into your hole.

Johnny looks up and watches you as your lips part in moan after beautiful moan. Each time the sound sending blood pumping to his hard cock. His lips work to form an ‘o’ around your sensitive clit before he sucks on it. It sends your mind into a frenzy, your hips beginning to grind against his face. 

He groans into you when your hands reach for tufts of his dark hair, lacing through each strand and tugging as you desperately find a way to keep yourself grounded. Each frenzied moan that leaves your mouth becomes more and more careless, the fucks to give leaving your thoughts. 

His strong arms wrap securely around your hips, pulling you further into his mouth to the point you're almost worried. Johnny, however, has been waiting to do this with you for a long time, the need to have your cum covering his face overwhelms his need to breathe at this moment. 

“Wanna ride your face.” you gasp between moans and Johnny groans beneath you, your words both turning him on and making him so proud that you're telling him what you want.

You feel him nod into you, loosening his hold on your hips and flattening his tongue. Your heart quickens its beat, but you push the anxiety to the back of your mind. You hesitantly start rocking your hips back and forth, the feeling making your eyes roll back and an unholy sound releasing from your chest. 

You get no time to be embarrassed about it, and you don’t want to be. This feeling is a pure drug, he’s your ecstacy and you’re addicted. His nose bumps your clit and your fist your fingers in his hair, moving both your hips and his face against you. 

Johnny can’t believe it. His timid girlfriend becoming so animalistically wild and using his face like a toy. It’s the turn on he never knew he wanted, but god does it feel good. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, working with you to rock them against his tongue. 

Your breaths quicken, the heavenly feeling of your orgasm building up making the movement of your hips stutter and and falter. You’re lucky Johnny’s strong enough to keep you shifting over him. He watches your face carefully, looking for the expression he’s longing to see. 

He picks up when your body loosens up, mouth parting and eyes going blank as you sit on the edge of euphoria. He quickly stops your movement, arms cementing you in place as he attaches his lips around your clit again and sucks. Fucking hard. 

It pushes you into your orgasm as your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forms a perfect ‘o’. Your entire body shakes as spluttered and broken moans leave your lips along with short, gasped breaths. 

Johnny watches you in amazement, pure admiration on his face as he watches you unfold on top of him. He couldn’t be prouder of you. 

You go limp, gently lifting yourself from him but not after he cleans you up. You tumble down beside him as he wraps you in his arms. Safe with him. Always safe. 

“You did so well, baby.” He mumbles into your ear, a smile gracing your lips as you hum a ‘yeah?’. 

He hums back. “And you taste like heaven.” 

You groan, really not wanting to hear about how your taste as a blush rises to your cheeks. 

“Sweet like pumpkin pie.” 

You scowl, slapping his bare shoulder as he laughs at you. Secretly you look pleased. 

#nct smut #kpop smut #nct 127 smut #nct johnny #johnny suh #nct x reader #neohub #potatocitytechnology #nct dream #nct dream smut #kpop scenarios #nct 127 #nct scenarios #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Sunlight ||

Matt Murdock x GN!reader

Warnings: breakup angst, Matt sad, confused, and crying, 😭

I am working on WIPs but just bashed this out this afternoon, heh, sorry. 😔 Hope you enjoy and please reblog/comment on stuff you like, it makes me so happy, thank you so much! 💜

The morning is still cool, Matt's face is mostly covered with a veil of the morning shadow, the first visible curve of the sun only just starting to peek above the horizon as you sit on the roof together. You had both been up almost all night when you had said you wanted to talk to him, tell him you were going somewhere that he couldn't follow, out of the kitchen, out of New York. Out of the country entirely. And that you didn't want him to follow you, it wouldn't be fair on him.

The Devil ignored the pained sounds of his city only to listen to you break his heart. You had talked all night and he was in need of some air and space to process what you were saying.

You're asking him a question.

“Do you remember them, the sunrise and sunset?” you say softly, staring out over the twinkling grid of the city below.

It takes him a moment to answer, the silence between seeming to stretch on endlessly until he can swallow down the emotion and speak.

“Yeah, I think so. Sometimes it's hard to know if I'm really remembering how it was, or if my brain is just filling in the blanks.”

You take his hand in yours. How did you both end up here?

“Can I describe it to you?” you ask.

Matt tries his best to smile, to lie. Anything to make this easier.

“Please.” He says instead of anything else, instead of begging you to change your mind. He doesn't want to remember this sunrise, this beginning of the first day of many that he'll spend without you near. However much it hurts to hear your voice illustrate how the dark reds and purples are gradually giving way to burnt oranges, pale yellows, and lighter blues, how there are wispy trails of cloud scattered across the canvas of the wakening sky, he makes himself listen. Everything is ephemeral.

“I can’t decide if I like the sunrise or the sunset the most.” you quietly muse.

Matt only knows he prefers those days that were bookended by your presence. He vividly remembers the heat of the summer evenings and the sound of your laughter as he chased you around the apartment for a kiss after work, cold beers and cold fingers skating over warm skin and making you scream with the sudden shock of the contrast and then later, making you cry out his name for a different reason on the couch.

Or the simple taken-for-granted comfort of waking up on a fall morning with you right there beside him, pulling you closer and indulging himself by breathing in your scent and listening to the steady beat of your heart. He thinks about the future, the silence and emptiness that would fill the void left by you in his home. He doesn't know if he can stand it.

When you turn to look at him there's a glimmer from a tear hanging ready to fall from his lashes. All the beautiful colours of the sky reversed within its reflection before it rolled down his face. He had never expected to hear such clichéd words come from your lips - “it's not your fault” and “we just want different things” ring in his ears accompanied by the increasing noise of the waking city below. He never saw any of this coming. He wasn't looking for it, he thought you'd always be together. His guiding light. There was no warning, no noticeable change in your behaviour or the way in which you loved him.

And you had said that you still loved him. How could that make any sense when you were letting him go?

“You'll be alright, Matt. I know you.”

He sniffs, barely nodding at your attempt to comfort him. You did know him, and that's why he can't even try to persuade you not to leave. He couldn't stand to make you feel trapped and unhappy, but he was losing a limb, a piece of his soul. You were tearing yourself away and he could feel it physically hurt like a fresh, deep awful wound in his chest.

The strengthening heat of the sun's cheerful rays dilutes the warmth left on his skin from the touch of your hand. Already he mourns the memory of the softness of your cheek pressing against his, all traces of you fading fast as he hears the click of the front door closing. The sound of your heartbeat, one of the precious constants becoming more distant with every step as you walk away and take the sunlight out of his life.

#matt murdock angst #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x gn reader #oh no sad times 😔

[jester089]

This might be a strange idea but i was thinking that you could mabye wright the amazing digital circus with a reader who is trying to find a cure for abstracting, but also doing it in private so less people will bother them

It'll be worth it

This doesn't sound at all strange. Thanks for the request.

You had been in the circus a while. Having initially arrived slightly after Ragatha, unlike her you always kept to yourself never really being seen. Everyone just assumed that you loved being alone or hated people so they left you to your devices. A few had guesses on why Caine seemed to spend so much time with you but most just assuming that was just trying to give you some company. It had been a few months since anything of note has happened. No new arrivals, no abstractions. Everyone was starting to get a little on edge which lead to Ragatha checking in on everyone much more then usual. The main reason being that Jax had started being more aggressive with his boredom. It was actually Ragatha who first found out why you never went out, why you always seemed to be in a bad mood. She was stopping by to check on you when she overhead you and Caine celebrating something. Despite her best judgement she eavesdropped and heard you yell something along the lines of "Finally! Progress! It might... It might actually be possible! Caine! My work is paying off!" She didn't know what that meant so she took a moment to get back to normal then knocked on your door asking to come in. You surprisingly let her in so she, with a little hesitance walked into your room and saw an abstract in a glass cage type thing. That's when it clicked in her mind what you had meant. She walked up to you and did her best to keep a steady and calm voice. "Are you finding a way to fix abstraction?" "Yeah. But don't tell anyone. And before you ask, no, I don't want your help. I'm better at working alone." "But... You're letting Caine help you." "Yeah, but only cause he gets me the resources I need when I need em. wouldn't have that abstract contained without him. He has something of value to me, you don't. Now why are you here." She looked a bit hurt at your words but didn't want to intrude. So she saw herself out and let you get back to your work. Once she was out of the room Caine turned to you. "That was awfully rude, you should apologize. You don't usually act like that even when someone is annoying you. What happened?" You sigh and face your desk again getting back to work. Your thankful that you don't have to eat, drink, or sleep. It's sped up your work a lot and is the only real reason you're still healthy. "Caine, don't start this now. I'm the only one here with the skills and will to actually help those who have been lost. I can't afford to feel bad for hurting someone's feelings right now." "Well, you should still apologize when you can." "I will" ~~~~~ It's been. You don't even know. A month, two? It's hard to tell when you never leave your room. Another person has arrived in that time. From what you've heard from Caine her name's Pomni but you can't bring yourself to care not with what has just happened. You... You did it... You're currently sitting in your desk chair staring at the once contained abstract. It's not an abstract anymore though. It's who it was before, a yellowish orange and green wiggle worm. You slowly turn to Caine who is just as surprised as you. "Did I... Did we... A-are they ok? Are they themselves again? They look normal physically, but is their mind in one piece?" After a few more seconds of staring Caine snaps out of it and joins them in the containment cell. You can't hear what their saying but it seems that it's going well? He pokes his head through the wall with a giant smile on his face. "She's ok! Speaking in full sentences and not at all hostile!" You fall back onto your chair again completely taken back. You did it. YOU DID IT! "Ok, ok... This is big. But we need to be careful. It feels wrong but we should keep them contained for a bit longer. We don't know if their going to change back. Until were sure lets just take it slow." ~~~~~

It's a few days later now, you've been checking on them every 10 minutes or so. You also had Caine make it so you two can hear each other through the glass so she has someone to talk to and doesn't lose her mind again. You do one last check, nothing abnormal. You with a happy but tired sigh open it up and let her out. "Well, miss. How are you feeling? Sorry I kept you contained like that I just had to be sure as you are the first person I've been able to help." "Oh it's no trouble, I understand completely. And I'm feeling, great! Wonderful even." You let out a breath more happy to hear that then you had expected. Years of work. And it wasn't for nothing. "Well... Do you wanna meet the others? Sadly the people you knew since have long since abstracted, but I'm going to change that. But for now. We should introduce you to everyone." She doesn't have a mouth but you can tell she's smiling. You motion for her to follow then walk out of your room. For the first time since you've arrived you feel happy. Years and you finally have something to show for all your hard work.

(I enjoyed writing this. Enough to probably want another part. Hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine tadc #ragatha tadc #jax tadc #noob author #not beta'd

[thewriterghost]

Lovely!!!! Would you write something about Bucky x reader/ friend who moved to another state for work? They used to be really close and talk a lot but as things go with life and distance they drifted a part a bit? But maybe from time to time she’ll think she’ll see him from behind or a side profile walking home at night and think of him and send him a “thinking of you / we should catch up! text not realizing that from time to time that who she saw was Bucky. He will check in on her and see how she’s doing in her new life

Hello!! I'm so sorry, this is so late 😭 between school and internship I hardly got any time to write. In fact, I wrote this at work lol, hopefully you like it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You moved away from the compound because of school. It's been a lonely few months now. That's definitely the reason you think you're seeing Bucky from the corner of your eye every time you look around, right?

An autumn breeze catches you off guard, right when you are leaving your school building for the day. It was warmer during the day, you think as you walk to your bus stop. It's a lonely time of day, an orange glow of sunlight illuminates the empty bus stop.

As you make it a point to crash every red or yellow leaf you see on your way without being too obvious, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar metallic glow. That same feeling you always get around him, the butterflies and the hippos come back to your stomach, making your heart beat a million times a moment. Your eyes snap towards it, but it disappears all too fast for you to spot, leaving you with disappointment and longing.

You miss him. You try not to, but it's not easy not talking to him everyday like you did before, not being able to hang out on 3 am when both of you are too stubborn to go to sleep, or not being able to just exist at the same place at the same time with various animals in your stomach (figuratively).

You grab your phone from your pocket and click on his name on your messaging app. You hand hovers over the text box for a while, until you decide to just write to him. It's not like you haven't been talking since you left, it's more like you didn't want to talk all too much because of how much you'd want to just drop everything and go to him. Still, you think, enough is enough.

"Hey, you busy?"

You wait for a moment, anxiously nibbling on your lower lip. It doesn't take him more than 60 seconds to write back.

"Nope. You?"

You write back, biting down a smile.

"Nope. Just got out of school, going home."

You can almost hear his grumble-ish answers through your phone. A message pops up.

"Isn't it late? I thought you got off at 4."

You must've told him your schedule, but your mind doesn't come up with a memory to support it. You shrug it off and type.

"Yeah, I had to make a presentation and I was the last one of the class so the professor just agreed to do it now rather than next week."

"Does that mean you're free next week?"

You can't help but smile brightly. Looks like you're not the only one missing the other.

"Does that mean you miss me?"

You can almost see his scoff. You giggle to yourself.

"Does that mean we can meet?" He answers. You jump at the opportunity almost too fast.

"Yeah, sure. When are you free?"

"Whenever you're free."

"You don't have a mission or anything?"

"I'll bail." His answer makes you laugh out loud, maybe the first sincere laugh since you've been here.

"If it's not going to be a trouble for you."

"It won't. When should I pick you up?"

You check your schedule on your mind. You would be free tomorrow afternoon.

"Tomorrow afternoon? 2-ish maybe?"

"Sounds good."

You contemplate on whether to write it or not, but then think why not and type.

"I missed you, you know." And you put the phone on your pocket, face starting to burn up.

Your phone buzz, and you get the phone out faster than light.

"I missed you too." Your eyes glance over the letters more than once, each time smiling even more, until you find yourself giggling to yourself at 6 pm on an empty bus stop.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Another text appears on your screen, leaving you happier that you've ever been since the last few months.

Next day goes too slow for your taste. You keep finding yourself shaking your knee up and down with anticipation.

You are out of the door when the clock hits 2 pm. As you arrive at the school gates you realize you haven't told him where to come. You pull out your phone to type, but stop at your tracks when you hear it.

"Hey."

Sitting on a black motorcycle, blue eyes and black jacket catches you off guard. A smile creeps on to your lips.

"Hey." You return the sentence as you find your feet and move towards him. He has a gentle smile as well, uncharacteristically for him as people would say, but not for you. You've seen him like this before. When you were up all night and baked not one, not two, but three batches of cookies together, you've seen that same smile everytime your eyes have met. Or that one time when it was raining too hard and you were too sick to go to mission, and he stayed to look after you, cuddling you since he can't get sick because of serum.

He takes your helmet from the back and after looking at you with that sweet smile of his for a moment, he puts it on for you, clipping it with delicate movements.

"Hop on." He instructs and you obey, hugging him from behind with a pair of red cheeks which thankfully can't be seen thanks to your helmet.

As he takes off, you don't bother to ask where to. After a brief 10-15 minutes, he stops in front of a small cafe near a park.

"Were you around here yesterday?" You ask, recalling the silver glimmer you saw yesterday evening.

"I was on a mission." He shrugs.

"Huh." You mumble. Seeing his puzzled look, you add. "I thought I saw you yesterday, after school. Right before I texted you, in fact."

"You must've missed me a lot." He smirks, opening the door to the cafe for you. Always a gentleman.

"Must've." You return the smile as you walk in.

As you both get your coffees and pastries, you decide to ignore the fact that he probably was here yesterday. In fact, he probably was around since you moved here. Watching out for you, worrying about you, missing you.

"What are you smiling about?" You come back to real life when he gently nudges your shoulder with his.

"Oh, nothing." You shake your head. "I was just thinking, we should meet more often. It's been too long."

"Yeah, agreed." He replies with a smile of his own. You don't realize the look in his eyes, confirming your theory.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #platonic!bucky #platonic!bucky x reader

[octuscle]

Class reunion

If the class reunion had not taken place at the same time as your father's 50th birthday, you would never have made another trip to your old home country. It took you enough time to get the place to study in New England. Losing your Southern accent. To finish your engineering studies at the top of your class. And in a week, you'll start your first real job. In the research and development department of the company whose farm equipment your father sells and repairs.

For your father's birthday party, you packed the suit you bought for your first day at work. For the class reunion a polo shirt and chinos. And otherwise a few clothes for the morning run. And a pair of jeans and a change of t-shirts. Nothing great. You're only going to be gone for a few days. Even before you leave, you can't wait to get back to Boston.

It was so obvious! Of course, your suitcase doesn't arrive. And you desperately needed a change of clothes after the stupid chick next to you spilled the orange juice all over you. Well, your father is already waiting outside. Let's see if you can stop somewhere to do some shopping.

You go straight home. Your father thinks that there are still enough of your old clothes at home. And so that you can get out of the wet and sticky clothes, he gets a reasonably clean T-shirt from the footwell of the back seat. It doesn't feel bad to sit next to your father in the car. The breeze cools your freshly epilated chest. And the T-shirt smells like real work. When you arrive home, the entire family is already gathered. You don't even have a chance to change. The birthday party is already in full swing. Your father hits his beer bottle with a wrench and asks for silence. He is happy that everyone is there. But he's especially happy that his son has returned today after successfully completing his studies to whip his father's business into shape.

Bloody hell! What is this? We didn't agree on this… Everyone is looking at you expectantly. You can't crash your father's birthday party now, can you? So you say you're glad to be back and that it makes you proud to bring your ideas from your studies at the agricultural school here in the state to the company. "Taylor & Son, Farm Machinery" is written on your T-shirt. Everyone cheers. And your dad gives you a big hug.

You'd forgotten ha day celebrated here. You used to have wild parties in da fraternity, too. But this haz really been hell. But there's nothing uh gud breakfast from your mom can't fix. But as soon as you sit down at da table, one of your father's apprentices pokes his head into da kitchen n asks if you cud take uh look at uh customer's combine harvester. It's uh gud thing you had already put on your overalls. N so da workday starts right away. But hey, nothing works without you. You are da best mechanic in da district. You completed your training with distinction. N now you've been uh foreman in your father's company for years.

Fuck, thuh reunion uh chur mechanic class! Yawl forgot all bout it. Yawl quickly wartch churself with thuh wartchcloth at thuh back uh thuh rain barrel. Ahm shore thuther lads habumt changed either. In fact, most uh them come in work clothes. After all, it's gist another bender in chur best pal's ode barn. Yawl nevur know how thay'll end up. But it's uh good thang yawl took thuh precaution uh not wearin' underwear. 

#male tf #reality change #redneck tf #male transformation #muscle transformation

[nanomooselet]

On Narrators

You know what, fuck it.

I've seen a lot of references to Trigun Stampede having an unreliable narrator, and unfortunately it's activated my media analyst trap card. While there's always a degree of interpretation to these things, there is a difference between interpretation and declaring a banana skin to be orange zest. It makes a difference, especially if you're trying to bake a cake.

That isn't at all what Trigun Stampede is doing. Among other things, it doesn't have a narrator.

Narration, loosely defined, is text (or spoken lines etc) that directly addresses an assumed audience, which may or may not be the actual audience (it depends on the needs of the story). Think voice-overs, think Kuzco in The Emperor's New Groove, think the text panels in a comic or manga that list time and location, or describe the situation. The song of humanity continues to be sung is narration. A narrator is the character who performs narration; sometimes from with the story, sometimes from a position adjacent to it.

Honestly one of the most interesting things about Stampede, in my opinion, is that it makes a point of having neither.

There's no framing device, no presenter, no announcer, no chorus, no soliloquy, not even an internal monologue. There's no direct line to the writers, giving away their intentions. Indeed, the imposition of any text at all is almost entirely absent, save some pointed timing on the title cards, and no character's voice is objective. Zazie or Roberto, who come the closest, can definitely still be wrong - Roberto says Vash is "not long for this world" when Vash is longer for the world than almost anyone else; the man he says would kill with a smile was in fact coerced into becoming a killer. Zazie knows much and is always truthful, but isn't all-knowing, nor operating with complete understanding. And on the other end of the scale you have characters like Dr. Conrad or Knives, where the easiest way to tell they're mistaken or lying is if their mouths are moving. (Outside of brain fuckery. Then you're on your own.) Then there's Vash, who doesn't lie, necessarily, so much as he doesn't volunteer the truth, and tends to dodge giving answers when asked outright.

Now, an unreliable narrator is metafictional, taking advantage of the narrator being a character, and therefore capable of having an agenda.

What makes them unreliable is that they exert motivated influence over what we see - even accidental influence like distorted recollection or misconception. But before declaring such influence is occurring, we need a solid reason to doubt. You don't dismiss an account as unreliable just because it doesn't line up with your own expectations or desires - not without something like a clear contradiction, perhaps, or some conspicuous omission. *

We simply have no reason to believe what we see in Trigun Stampede is anything other than the truth (inasmuch as it's obviously fictional of course). We see some events from multiple viewpoints - here is what Vash experienced, here is what Knives saw, here is what other characters are doing - and what one character sees isn't different from what any other character sees when the perspectives swap. It's just from different distances and angles. The same words are said, the same events play out, and the same reactions are demonstrated by the characters, according to their established values and motivations.

The narrative itself is unadorned and unchanged by their viewpoints. Whether a character is being truthful is simply a judgement you're given to make as the events that occur and their actions reveal more about them.

The term for this isn't narration; it's focalisation, and it's hardly some avant-garde artistic statement. It's intrinsic to telling even the most simple story.

For instance, the way Knives evolves from his initial presentation. His introduction as an adult is as a wrathful would-be god and a merciless killer before his more nuanced motivations and origins are slowly revealed. It would have been different if he'd been introduced first, discovered Tesla and was then depicted destroying Jeneora Rock. He'd come across as more of a protagonist. Instead, because the central character is Vash, we see him first, the humanising struggles of Jeneora Rock's people and Vash's efforts to help them, his anguish when it's rendered moot, and all the ways he suffers as a result of Knives's actions. This is focalisation that makes Knives the antagonist, representing what Vash must overcome. A complex, compelling and perhaps tragic antagonist, but still - not the guy the story is about.

Oh, and that has nothing to do with their respective moral positions, good or evil. It's structural. A protagonist attempts to achieve while an antagonist obstructs, and both by nature will transgress.

Stampede isn't exactly free of ways to manipulate sympathy, and exerts strict control over the perspectives it presents. You could argue it misdirects, or lies by omission - but that's not the same as an unreliable narrator. A narrative is always going to impose some kind of order on events to produce a specific effect, and that does come with bias. But it's the nature of storytelling never to be entirely objective.

I'm not sure that I really have a point, honestly, except that Trigun Stampede is a show that's exceedingly careful to show the characters exactly as they are. It doesn't lie. Personally, I find that more interesting to contemplate than the alternative. We have everything we need to know why the characters do as they do. Certainly far more than some would rather have us know.

* There are two times I think something like this is happening. One is Wolfwood's flashbacks to the orphanage, which are coloured as memories of the softness the Eye ripped away from him. Hence the different art style, and the title of the episode they occur in: once upon a time. It's a fairy tale, more emotionally true than literal to highlight the harshness of his life since then by contrast. There's likely more to that story than Wolfwood is recalling at that moment.

The other, big surprise, is within the memory world. It has manipulative editing, clips taken out of context, video noise, ADR, everything. All you'd need to make it more obvious it can't be trusted is a disclaimer in the corner or inconsistent timestamps or something.

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #media analysis #okay SLIGHTLY motivated by a reviewer who said the twins have equal claim to being right/“the hero” #lol no #sorry but knives is straightforwardly the antagonist #he's just not twirling a moustache about it #if this seems meaner than usual i apologise #typing on my phone fills me with hate #man someday i'll figure out how to explain that the show takes knives's viewpoint #but not today

[yume-chin]

Why me (Leo)

This work was initially supposed to be a small collection of one-shorts / scenarios for all four turtles but when I finished writing for Leonardo I realized that I had written a lot and for this reason I finally published only him.

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Request: No

Warning: Just a little angst and bad English

Genre: She/her

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Pov: Leo still can't explain how a beautiful girl like you ended up with him and therefore begins to get caught up in the doubts and anxiety of you that sooner or later you could leave him for someone better.

Version: Bayverse / 2014/2016

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Text words: 1296

Total words: 1452

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It all started on a cool evening. All was calm in the streets of New York and the young ninja was enjoying the fresh air on top of a rooftop. All was quiet but Leo's attention was caught by giggles under the street.

Intrigued, he looked out slightly to notice a happy and carefree couple walking and giggling hand in hand. On any other occasion everything would have been normal, but not this time.

The young man was overwhelmed by a series of thoughts that stopped him instantly. "Why would a girl like Y/n be with a guy like him? She's literally a mutant turtle who fights evil but at the same time terrorizes the people she saves. She can't offer him anything, not even a normal date, because we're honestly, there's nothing normal about him."

The ninja's thoughts disappeared when the three brothers called him worried.

"Dude, are you okay?" Mikey asked concerned. "You seem distracted, that's not like you," Donnie added.

"It's ok" the leader tried to reassure "I just… I think it's time to go back to the den, we finished today's patrol" he said heading towards the manhole without leaving any way for the brothers to argue back.

Once they all returned to the den, Leo quickly went to his room, leaving the three brothers displaced for the second time.

"But what's wrong with him?" complained Raph "first he's mesmerized like a fool staring and thinking about who knows what and then he doesn't even give us explanations of his behavior." he added.

"At first I thought he'd gotten sick on patrol but on our way back to the den I did a quick scan and everything seems normal…" Donnie added.

"he was quiet until there was a couple laughing, he looked out to check and then he stopped there… dude… who knows what makes it so strange…" Mikey concluded not realizing to have given important information.

Donnie and Raph looked at each other for a few seconds until the redhead spoke "do you think that's why…"

The purple turned to the door closed by their leader and then answered "probably… otherwise there would be no other explanation for the sudden change in his attitude"

Mikey looked at them questioning "What are you talking about?"

"I understand what Leo has but for now the best thing is to wait for tomorrow morning, so now let's think about going to bed" Donnie concluded and then headed towards his room.

The orange stood there confused and then turned to Raph in the hope that at least he would explain what had happened.

The redhead, however, nodded to him and then also went to his room.

Mikey stood there even more confused but finally went to sleep too, too tired to try to harass the brothers for answers.

The night passed peacefully for everyone, for everyone except Leo, who spent the night thinking about Y/n and their relationship.

The morning arrived and with it Y/n also arrived, equipped with steaming croissants for the boys' breakfast.

By now it was a habit for her to bring the boys hot croissants on Sunday morning and obviously this Sunday was no different from all the others.

The young woman was welcomed with open arms by a happy and hungry Mikey, in fact she didn't understand if the young man's happiness was due to her presence or to the arrival of the croissants.

The fact is that after giving each of the boys present their croissants she was surprised not to see her boyfriend in his usual place.

"Guys, did something happen to Leo? Why isn't he here too?" she asked worried looking at the three brothers.

"It's been weird since yesterday," Mikey began, "weirder than usual," Raph added, "and we thought you might do something to help him," Donnie concluded, pointing to his brother's door.

The young woman nodded "I'll take care of it" she said and then headed towards the boy's room.

She knocked softly but received no answer. Then she knocked again, but still nothing. She knock a third time but still not receiving an answer, she decides to open the door and enter-

The room was dark, but from the glimmer of light she could see the figure of her boyfriend still lying and covered on the bed.

"Love…" she tried to softly call her boyfriend without however receiving an answer.

She stood there for a moment and then approached the bed. "honey… is everything alright…?" she asked now arrived in bed and gently stroking the boy's head.

She didn't receive a real verbal response, instead she felt the boy tremble slightly.

"Leo, please, what's going on? I'm worried… I would like to know what's happening to you and I would like to help you in any way…" the h/c said continuing to stroke the young man's head.

Suddenly the boy sat up and turned his gaze towards the girl.

"Everything ok love…?" she asked extending his hand towards the leader's cheek and starting to caress it with his thumb.

Initially she received no response but shortly after the blue took her hand and pulled it away from his face. "You don't have to stay with me, you know that…?" the boy said.

The young woman frowned "What are you talking about Leo?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you don't have to stay with me, if you've changed your mind now you can tell me calmly. I don't want to force you to stay with someone like me, on the contrary… I'd probably understand you…"

"Did you hit your head last night?"

"I'm not kidding Y/n, why me? Why not another guy? Better looking and more normal than me. A guy who can take you on a normal date in normal places. I can't do all of this. I can't give you a normal life."

"And who ever said that I want a normal life?"

Leo stood silently watching her.

The young woman grabbed his face with both hands and looked him straight in the eyes "I love you for who you are, I don't care about having a normal life and having normal appointments, the only thing I want is to be with you Leo You're just amazing, you're a wonderful brother, a wonderful leader but most of all, a wonderful boyfriend" she smiled kindly "besides who would give me a fun family like yours and amazing dates like yours?" she chuckles making Leo chuckle too.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that I love you with all my being and I would have loved you regardless of what you are, what you were, and what you will become" she remains silent for a moment "maybe if you were a spider I could have have a few issues but no matter what you are all i want and need are you i love you leo ​​and i will always love you"

The only answer she received was Leo who grabbed her and brought she close to him for a long and sweet kiss, a kiss that contained all the love that one had towards the other.

She move away from the kiss Y/n smiled and moved away to take the young man's band. She approached the boy again and tied the blue band around his face and then grabbed his hand.

"I love you so much baby, I'm really lucky to have you in my life" said the young man smiling at his beloved.

"The same goes for me, but maybe now it's time to go to the kitchen if you don't want Mikey to eat your croissant" the girl chuckled still holding his hand and guiding him towards the exit of her room.

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I was literally about to cry while writing this one-short

I didn't think it would hurt so much (╥﹏╥)

I hope you enjoyed it anyway

A big hug ♡

#x reader #x y/n #angst #tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #bayverse turtles #bayverse leo #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #fyp #one short #oneshot #leonardo x reader #leonardo x you #bayverse leo x reader #x you #angst oneshot #leo angst #x reader angst #female reader #boyfriend #hobby #fypシ #fypツ #teenage mutant ninja turtles

[monsterblogging]

Fuck JKR: How To Create A Harry Potter-Esque Aesthetic Without Any Harry Potter In It

So I saw a few posts from people mentioning that a reason people might be into Harry Potter is because of the aesthetic or atmosphere, and ya know what? I can't even argue that, because if there's one thing about HP, it's that it Sure Does Have Aesthetic And Atmosphere.

So! I'm gonna tell you how to STEAL ITS LOOK! Because:

JK Rowling considers ANY support of her work to be support of her politics.

Fan content/fan merch is still free advertisement for Rowling's work. YOU might not choose to give her money, but you can't be sure you won't pull people into the fandom who will.

Everyone should create more things that aren't tied to corporate-owned IP, period.

So. Most things in these films have an aged, antique look. You'll see a lot of brown hues, both on sets and on people's clothes. There's a lot of near-blacks (especially charcoals and walnuts) and lighter grays on the sets, especially from the third film onwards. (Wood is more often than not stained dark, while lighter hues are often provided by bricks or plaster.) The last two films use a lot of stormy blues and grays. Prisoner of Azkaban also emphasizes contrast between tones, which heightens a sense of texture. True black also appears throughout the films, such as on students' uniforms and many Death Eaters' outfits, and on the chairs in Malfoy Manor. White appears occasionally, especially on Hedwig, students' shirts, or during winter scenes, but pure white isn't otherwise really common. Paper or parchment is usually warm beige. There's also a lot of silver, gold, and brass, often appearing on things like dishware, tools, trinkets, Christmas baubles, and so forth. Bronze also comes up occasionally.

Reds, yellows, blues, and greens are pretty common throughout the films, even outside of Hogwarts, though you'll see just about every color somewhere. For example, orange is often found around the Weasleys, and orange, maroon, and purple feature in the divination classroom. Teal features prominently in Grimmauld Place (contrasted with saffron yellows).

Most colors aren't really super bright; a lot of the time they look a little faded, or like they're colored with natural dyes. If you use medieval illustrations to source your colors, or aim for earth tones and jewel tones, you'll be about right for a lot of what you see in the films. Bright colors are pretty rare; some of the brights we do see are in Honeydukes, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, and certain magical effects, such as Floo fire.

A lot of light is provided by candles, torches, or fireplaces, which cast a warm yellow/orange light. Moonlight is represented by blue light in the first and second films. Blue light is also used for the Goblet of Fire and the penseive.

Another thing you gotta have in there is clutter. It should look kinda antique and give off a kind of magical or mystical atmosphere. Think books, storage jars, orreries, crystal balls, old lamps, antique clocks, vintage glassware, antique mirrors, old teapots, and little metal trinkets. (If you're trying to decorate a physical room, your stuff doesn't have to actually be antique, of course; antique-styled is fine.)

Texture is also very important, which can be represented with full or top grain leather book covers, stone walls, dents and scratches, cracks, embellishments, and embossing. Additionally, all damage and wear gives a sense of oldness to things. Stains and variegated colors also add interest. (If you're decorating a physical space, you might look into aging/distressing/antiquing techniques.)

If you want a space to look cozy, you don't really want bare or blank walls. Shelves, paintings, tapestries, and wallpaper can all help with that. Again, use brown, rather than black. Warm, yellow lighting will also help. If you lean toward blacks and cool lighting, you're going to have a colder-looking space.

Fashion in the wizarding world is extremely all over the place, ranging from stereotypical fantasy witch and wizard clothing, to pretty normal vintage clothing, to some wacky vintage-inspired looks, to the kind of fashion that would be put under the cozycore umbrella, to ordinary modern clothing. One thing that's absent is subculture fashion as we know it. (Bellatrix Lestrange does look kinda goth, but it's less a subculture thing, and more a "yeah we're putting our bad guys in fancy black stuff" thing.)

If you're trying to lean into the whole quirky/eccentric/old-fashioned kinda thing, you'll want to pass over the more modern and obviously synthetic type stuff. Also, patterns, textured fabrics, knits, mixed colors, lace, and other embellishments can add interest to outfits.

Architecture is also all over the place. Hogwarts is pretty medieval, while places like Diagon Alley give more Victorian vibe. The main thing is looking old fashioned and quaint.

To try and summarize all of that:

Browns. Lots and lots and lots of browns. Blacks and grays, too. Contrast between light and dark browns and blacks/grays.

More beige and gray than pure white; more charcoal gray and dark walnut brown than true black.

Among other colors, mostly earth tones and jewel tones. Very limited brights.

Polished metal and glass also add shininess.

Old-fashioned. Vintage. Antique.

Clutter, texture, patterns, variegation. Minimalist/clean aesthetic avoided.

Aged and distressed.

Lighting often yellow/orange due to coming from fire. Blue/teal light often coming from moonlight and certain magical light sources.

Now, here are some things we actually don't see. I'm not mentioning them to discourage you from using them if they're what you really want, but to inform you about them so you can consider whether they might throw off the vibe for you:

Green/purple/black combos.

Purple/silver/black combos. Pink/purple/teal combos.

Pink/black combos.

Orange/black combos.

Green/orange/purple combos.

Red/black combos.

Basically a lot of combos commonly associated with Halloween, witches, or vampires.

Big raw crystals. We see crystal balls now and then, but that's it.

Other natural items used as decorations - feathers, pinecones, sticks, etc. The one exception I can think of are the shells embedded in the walls of Shell Cottage.

Crushed velvet. Lots of fantasy uses this, HP films don't.

If you need inspiration, go look up medieval and renaissance diagrams and illustrations of stuff like the four elements, the zodiac, the solar system, and all that. Go look up alchemical symbols and emblems. Search up pre-WWII vintage ephemera. Go look up Victorian clipart. Look up stuff like botanical, zoological, and astronomical books and art from the 17th-19th centuries. Look up vintage wallpaper and fabric patterns. Look at vintage-style crafts. Research period architecture and fashion. Research European heraldry.

If you're wondering what exactly you're going to design around without Hogwarts and the Four Houses, here are some suggestions:

The four classical elements (earth, air, fire, and water)

The four seasons

Card suits - Tarot, French, whatever you want

Holidays - Halloween, Christmas, whatever

Fairy tales

Flowers

Mythical creatures

Bugs

Birds

Any other animals you like

Ecosystems

Your own original worldbuilding

So yeah, there ya go. You don't need to keep participating in HP to indulge in the aesthetic.

[NOTICE: Anybody who clowns on this post by making this about them and their childhood, patting themselves on the back about their chosen means of "ethical" participation, praising the fandom, or adding any other form of irrelevant bullshit is getting blocked. Also, I don't want to hear about PJO or Earthsea again for the millionth time, either.]

#harry potter #anti harry potter #anti jkr #aesthetic #aesthetics #art #worldbuilding

[grimalkinmessor]

Once upon a day, in some distant AU, Light and L have swapped bodies. What happens next?

I have so many questions. What caused them to swap bodies? Do they know what the cause is? Do they know how long they're going to be like that? At what point in canon are we in? Or is this like a soulmate "You bodies once a year until you find them" thing? I NEED CONTEXT—

Guh. Okay. So, assuming that it happened at some point during canon, and that they already know each other, a few things could happen.

L wakes up in Light's body. Already off to a weird start, because L rarely ever sleeps and even when he does it's typically not in a bed. Plus L feels—rested?? He doesn't ache anywhere?? He recognizes Light's bedroom, of course, and after that it wouldn't take him long to adjust and believe. "This is happening now."

HOWEVER due to my own personal headcanons this means that L can now see Ryuk. L is now the owner of the Death Note even if he doesn't know where it is or even what it is. Ryuk, being a Shinigami, sees that Light's name has changed and is aware of the swap immediately, so he doesn't spill shit to L, even as he makes cryptic jokes and drops a few no-context hints. So L now has knowledge of Ryuk, but with no way to prove his existence to other people. L, of course, after seeing Ryuk begins a thorough snooping of Light's room. He rifles through all his stuff, sprays all his colognes, peruses his closet and knickknacks, and yes—spends a very long time running his hands all over and ogling Light's naked body. For The Case™.

Then L leaves to go to the Task Force building, and doesn't really,,,bother to explain himself to Sayu or Sachiko beyond "I seem to have found myself in Light-kun's body. No I can't tell you who I am it's an international secret. Good day." He is dressed in Light's brightest colored sweater (a Christmas one he found at the back of Light's closet), and sweatpants. Sayu thinks her brother has had a mental breakdown. Sachiko believes him almost immediately.

Light wakes up in L's body. He's curled up on a couch fetal position, still in jeans and a sweater, and everything hurts. Light never falls asleep with his day clothes on, never falls asleep on the couch, and since he picked up the Death Note, he's never woken up without Ryuk immediately greeting him/hovering over him/prodding for apples. It doesn't take him long to figure it out either, especially considering L's unique appearance. Light rolls with denial for about five minutes before he abruptly compartmentalizes and decides to use this as a chance to go through all of L's computer files on him. And maybe accidentally delete a few. Light also copies down a lot of L's files and contacts and servers onto a flashdrive and hides it somewhere he can bribe Ryuk to come pick up later. No cameras in L's room, right? He might as well take advantage.

Light, however, cannot hide the fact that he's not L from Watari, who caught on as soon as he asked L what he'd like for breakfast and the reply was an orange. Watari clocked him immediately as an imposter and Light was forced to 'sheepishly' and 'disbelievingly' admit the truth of his identity. "L never asks for fruit unless I put it in front of him." "I was trying to ask for something sweet that I could actually stomach, Watari-san. Now that you know who I am could you please fix me a traditional breakfast? I feel nauseous."

Watari JUMPS at the chance to finally feed L('s body) properly after all these years of struggle 🙏

Light quickly discovers that L's body is highly sensitive to certain sounds and textures, as well as persistently uncomfortable sitting still in any other position than the one L's normally sits in. Of course Light bares with it and sits normally anyway, because like hell he's caving to L's (body's) whims. Plus Light's sure now that the reason L's body aches so much is that he's constantly twisting it into weird position to appease his own jitteriness and mental discomfort. Light has far more practice with ignoring those things, don't you know 😌

Then Light's own body rolls up to the Task Force building in the ugliest ass sweater, sweatpants, and house slippers, and Light knows immediately who it is. L's even got his head tucked in like a turtle to minimize sound input like Light has trained himself out of dammit, he's giving Light's body a crick in the neck!! And he's touching him, ugh!!! L get your hands out from under that sweater Light will sue!

From there, Light and L have to tell the rest of the Task Force what happened, and Soichiro is subsequently as offended as Light by L feeling up his son's body from inside it, while Matsuda is mentally flailing over how much L acting like a normal person (acting like Light) makes him more attractive 😳🫣 How did they never notice that L is actually good-looking??

L would then try to expose Ryuk's presence, which would make Light very alarmed, but it wouldn't work very well.

"Light-kun did you know your body seems to be haunted by a large, unattractive crow creature?"

"Huh? You must be seeing things, Ryuzaki, I've never seen anything like that. How scary. Are you sure it isn't haunting you?"

And many other shenanigans!! :D

#asks #anonymous #body swap #lawlight #...? im assuming #death note #yagami light #l lawliet #long post