#yet too chicken shit to tag the character

[mxtxfanatic]

You write an mdzs fic in which you tag every major character that appears BUT Jiang Cheng? Yeah I’m blocking you.

#human gripes at fandom #always the yunmeng reconciliation crowd #yet too chicken shit to tag the character #why is that? afraid you won’t get the views you want? #cause nobody wants your fanon jc anymore? #anyways 🙄

[darkhymns-fic]

A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Husk used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Amazing how certain people can ruin such things for you.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk, Charlie Morningstar, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 4421 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I caved in and wrote fic for the funny swearing cartoon. Please note that this story contains depictions of abuse and power dynamics, as well as implications of violence. More tags are listed on the AO3 mirror. Grumpy cat man does not have a good time here (or even a choice).

--

Husk raised an eyebrow as he processed the information that was passed to him. (No, he couldn’t have heard that right.)

He was still cleaning up a shot glass with a less-than-clean rag, but his movements slowed, keeping his eyes level with the princess of Hell who stood in front of his bar. The eerie glow of the wooden walls fell over her hair, coating it in a green sheen that reminded him of poison dripping down the strands. A bitter but familiar taste settled on his tongue.

“…A dance party?” he finally asked her.

“Yes! For everyone in the hotel! There’s gonna be balloons and camaraderie and so much music!” Charlie was bouncing up and down on her toes. If she got any more excited, she’d probably jump straight up through the roof. Not like it would’ve been the first construction hazard the hotel had, or even the last. “It was Alastor’s idea! He said it would be a really good morale booster!”

Not a whisker twitched on Husk’s face, but he could feel the cracks in the glass forming underneath his hand. Another one for the dustbin. “Of course it was.”

Too low for Charlie to hear him, not that he wanted her to. She was riding on cloud nine, which was an achievement for a Hell-born denizen. “I just gotta get all the decorations set up! Oh! And Alastor told me to invite you specifically! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Thankfully, Charlie turned away then—to check up on all those decorations, the bright balloons, and streamers, and what looked like a disco ball (?) up top that was just gonna break the beams of this shack of a building. Because by then, the glass Husk was holding had shattered to pieces.

With a growl, he picked away at the shards embedded in his fur, one by one. Just a few of them were stained in blood, their color gaining a sickly green hue from the glow of the bar.

What a painful way to start the night.

--

Before anyone had even hit the dance floor, Husk was already shit-faced. But he wasn’t blackout drunk, and right now, that was his ultimate goal. Cheap booze was hardly good for anything else.

He could barely care whatever music was playing—but by the way Charlie was twirling and shaking her arms like an excitable chicken, it must have been some of that new pop stuff Husk never took much of a liking to. Much of the scene was a blur to him, still staying put behind his bar, hoping to be forgotten for his boss’ new…interest.

(Awful to think, but some men craving for freedom, for anything, become desperate. He knew this too well.)

Alastor was doing all he could to encourage the princess with a bleeding heart; holding up his mic to comment on her dancing techniques, to cue applause at just the right moment, always telling her the same thing. “Wonderful! Just a wonderful performance!”

Even so, one could barely call this much of a party. Hazbin Hotel’s guests were so few—still only two total—but that Sir Pentious was also doing some of the dorkiest moves Husk had ever seen, and still falling face-first on the floor despite having no legs to trip over to begin with. Somehow, Angel Dust’s moves weren’t as X-rated as Husk would have expected on any other day. Instead, the guy was lending a pair of hands to Niffty, letting her lead yet still somehow controlling her rabid movements to pull him across the floor, also avoiding any sudden bites she would randomly decide to do.

There were times, also, when he would see Alastor reach out a hand to Charlie. He’d lean on his cane, mouth close to the mic head, humming a little ditty reminiscent of the jazz lounges back when their bodies weren’t made of fur and weird demon magic. It wouldn’t be the first time Alastor danced with the princess, but then an arm would reach out, safely guiding Charlie away from him.

Surprising that the same arm lacked a spear in it, one with a suspicious glint to it that Husk recognized but bit his tongue from ever mentioning. Vaggie’s one eye burned brighter than most firepits, and Charlie, innocent soul that she was, thought her girlfriend was just impatient for another close dance.

“Aw, Vaggie! Did you wanna try the Lindy Hop together?”

Another glare, her and the red demon’s staring contest looking ludicrous underneath the shifting lights of the spinning ball overhead. “Yeah, sure thing, hun.” And then she broke from that gaze, her expression changing to softness as she looked at Charlie in the blink of an eye and just that. It must have been love, not that Husk knew anything about it anymore. “I’ll follow your lead, if that’s okay.”

Alastor kept his smile as they both moved away, slowly pulling back his hand as his fingers curled. But a close listener could hear the static, garbling slowly in a crescendo. No, his boss didn’t like being denied his playthings.

And if he wasn’t being entertained this very second, then he’d—

“Hey, ya gonna join us? This dance party’s not half bad.” Angel Dust leaned on the bar, grinning as he took his usual seat. He hid it well, but Husk noted how his chest shifted with his heavy breathing, using his second right arm to discreetly wipe away the sweat from the fluff. It took all one had to keep up with Niffty, even from a guy who claimed to have amazing stamina.

Crossing one leg over the other, Angel kept up his smile, but it lacked the biting veneer from other times. An honesty that could be seen, even with Husk’s somewhat blurry sight. “I mean,” Angel continued. “If ya feel like sucking off that bottle instead of something with a little more taste.”

Husk didn’t take offense to such jokes anymore (just for show, which he also knew all too well) but he still didn’t move. This was the closest to safety he got. Besides, the bottle wasn’t even empty yet. “Nah, got two left feet. Wouldn’t work out.”

At that, Angel Dust laughed. “Didn’t stop our slithery friend over there! Or even Niffty! Though, uh…”

A quick look from them both showed the tiny Niffty now crawling along the walls, heading for the disco ball and then clamping it tightly with her entire body.  

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Think she’s got the hang of it now.”

Husk shrugged. He slid a glass to Angel that was half-full, a motion he could still do even with slightly trembling hands. “Don’t let me tie you down, kid. I’ve seen your moves.” He allowed himself a smile, one he could say he even felt.

Angel took the drink, one that could barely buzz a chihuahua, and gave Husk a smile back just as he stood up. All limbs, and a smile that hid back its usual gleam for fatigued eyes. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I bet I could teach you how to move it.”

Husk could barely count the minutes since Angel left and the party continued. The soundtrack for the dance eventually changed from the generic pop to a swing number—one that Husk could probably mouth the words to if he still had any hope inside him. And sometimes, he did feel it. Staying in this hotel was misery at first until the faces became more familiar, more concerned, and less like the eyes of something that hunted and searched for that moment of weakness.

The music was as grainy as his vision, so heavily textured and straining on the ears that he kept trying to pick it up, even as it changed. The vocals. The soft melancholic chorus in the background. It lacked the instruments of the previous songs. Weird choice for a dance. So much did he focus on it, all while holding a whiskey bottle with both hands because now he wanted some of the good stuff. He stared into the warped glass as he listened for so long that he forgot how there was no safe place for him. Just for a moment, but that was all it took.

A shadow fell over the bar. Over him. He knew who it was. Husk tipped the bottle to his lips and took long, long drink.

“Husker! My dear friend, didn’t you get my invite?”

It was a while before he answered. He slammed the bottle onto the mahogany surface, twisted his lips. Already empty, he needed another. “Yeah, I did. What about it?” Whiskey made him braver, but also careless. “Gotta keep serving the guests, don’t I?”

He heard the familiar chuckle, frizzled and slightly skipping, as if the vinyl had been scratched. “While it is good to see you still keeping to your deal, you have to understand it’s rude to RSVP and then not show.”

He wrenched the cork from his new bottle; wine this time, because this felt like as good of a time to switching things up as any. He watched the mist curl from the opening with all the fascination of a man pointedly avoiding the signals around him. “I am here to anyone that’s got eyes. Besides, I never promised Charlie I would actually dance.”

“Oh? You saying our little princess is a fibber?”

“I’m saying you only hear what you want. All the damn fucking time!” A hard grip, and then, he made the mistake of raising his head to see. (Never look into his eyes, you fool.) “Why don’t you take your dumbass musical project and just shove it along with that stupid mic of yours?! At least then I can just—”  

Something tugged him forward. Cold yet hot at the same time, just around his neck and clenched tight. He gripped the bar, claws digging in to keep himself from slamming his forehead into the wood.

Suddenly, his vision was crystal-clear.

The eyes burned into his. Red as the fiery sun over the sea, as the freshly split blood over a forest floor. A grin that was impossibly wide for a living thing, but neither of them were alive anymore, so all he could do was wait for when those same fangs would bite down on something else other than pride. Strange, twisting shapes curled from behind, appearing from behind the Radio Demon, like some demented crown of thorns.

“Silly Husker. That wasn’t a request and you know it.”

Oh, he knew it.

In the chaotic lighting of the room, from that fucking stupid disco ball, to the blinding streamers and balloons, and even a few rave sticks Husk caught Sir Pentious waving around, no one would notice the subtle green of the chains. How they burned into Husk’s neck, rubbing it raw until the fur would fall off, leaving him bruised beneath.

He shook again, keeping himself upright as much as he could. All to not be humiliated again, and this time in front a crowd. They would hate seeing him that way. They would demand Alastor to stop.

But the crushing indignity was too much to endure that.

“Fine,” he hissed out. “Do whatever you want.”

“Why, gladly!”

The chain vanished. Husk was left gasping, his fingers pressed against his throat to feel for any mark. (Just his property and nothing else). But he saw the hand now held out to him, palm facing upward. Those seemingly delicate fingers moved back and forth, and there was the familiar static, the usual dead air, but also…if one could turn the dial just so, the faint cacophony of screams that echoed in the distance, only to be drowned out by grainy noise.

“Shall we dance, dear Husker?”

Any choice he had once, he’d already made a while back.

Husk said nothing as he slid his hand into the other’s, claws carefully dulled to not scratch. He was practically pulled over the bar, his wings flapping in surprise. Red and black feathers circled around them both, and then he was tugged in close, looking up at the man with the smile that had now considerably shrunk—to look charming, almost. But always sharp and ready to bite.

“Now look lively, my dear. It’s as if your feet are encased in cement!”

The voice slid through his chest, like poison once more, carefully given to him in small doses over the years. A hand placed itself at the small of his back, his feet nearly lifted off the floor. An arm kept his wings closed in, so that they couldn’t stretch, like a straight-jacket forcibly put on him. Those wings were one of the few things he even liked about his form here in Hell, even if he sometimes found them to be an eyesore. But nothing else now could catch him from falling.

Nowhere to stabilize himself except in Alastor’s arms.

Anything to make him feel helpless. Vulnerable. Nothing more than a pet.

That’s all he was to him.

Alastor leaned in slightly, moving Husk’s free hand to clasp onto the taller demon’s shoulder. Husk sighed, but he followed through. Resigned. Better to be led through and survive the night without much damage. (Why even fight it?)

Just barely on his toes, and feeling the sharp nails dig just against his fur, they started their dance across the floor.

This wasn’t the first time they did this.

It was easy to fall into the motions. The thing that Husk had to begrudgingly admit was that Alastor was a pretty good dancer. He moved his feet with a grace that could be easily followed, and Husk did so. The trail of a footstep following the other, their hands joined together, leading him to the right or left with barely a pull. And with the grip behind his back, fingers circling into his fur, making Husk swallow hard.

Eyes started to follow them now, even with the awful-as-fuck lighting. He caught a glance of Niffty to the side, how she stopped trying to gnaw on Sir Pentious’ tail as she stared gleefully at her boss and co-worker getting close on the dance floor. He could hear Charlie make her excited little noises of happiness, commenting on just how sweet it was to see them demonstrate to everyone how to dance. Yeah. Sure. Anything to keep the princess oblivious to the rot beneath. At least Husk was sure Vaggie wouldn’t explain much more.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw Angel Dust in the far back. Hard to tell, because the effects of all his drinking were slowly making its way back, his fear replaced by numbness. But seeing Angel’s expression, it wasn’t pity. It was an understanding between two losers at the bottom of the barrel, witness to another form of degradation. Sold souls that could do nothing else but share the pain from across the room.

And then he couldn’t see Angel anymore. Because Alastor suddenly dipped him, so low to the ground that Husk found himself clinging tighter to the demon. His fur stood on end, his hat dangerously close to falling off. But Alastor leaned in close, his sharp teeth just at Husk’s ear, his breath parting the fur as gentle as a caress.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Husk widened his eyes. The music playing in the room, its echoes finally reaching his drunken skull. Oh, this absolute fucker.

The guy’s face really was made for radio.

Alastor lifted him up again, twirled him with barely a thought for Husk, who could have vomited from motion sickness. Wings flapped open, desperate for freedom, only to be closed in again by Alastor bringing Husk close. Another lean, and the song played again, closer, on the speaker that was Alastor’s mouth, with a voice that wasn’t his but that age-old recording.

“A casual stroll through a garden, and a kiss by a lazy lagoon.” Alastor’s grin could be felt against Husk, and how so often was he told how soft his fur was, to touch and play with. “Catching a breath of moonlight. Humming our favorite tune.”

Husk bristled. His claws bent inwards, so close to Alastor’s neck. It would be easy to at least draw blood, right in front of everyone, to show that this demon, horrifying as he was, can still be wounded despite it all.

Except, Husk had already tried that once. Back when the deal had still been fresh.

Alastor turned to face him, his smile so manic, so very daring.

Husk did nothing, instead continuing to listen to the song that Alastor played, dictating their movements. The same song that Husk remembered hearing on the radio so many years ago.

“I want to save all my nights and spend them with you. I love spending all with you…”

--

It felt like centuries before the party was finally over.

Husk could barely stand to be back behind his bar, let alone in the hotel lobby. The balloons, which half were already deflated, were a fucking eyesore and that damn ball up top or whatever did eventually fall—on Sir Pentious. But if the guy could survive an attack from the Radio Demon absolutely demolishing his ship and half of his egg boys, then it was clear the snake was indestructible.

Maybe Husk was a bit jealous.         

He didn’t want to deal with seeing anyone, even when Alastor, finally, finally let him go. Still, their clasped hands lingered, and Alastor leaned down as if to kiss his knuckles, Husk frozen in place at the very thought. And then, fingers laxed in their hold, allowing Husk to pull back, his fur on end and his wings frazzled, the feathers out of place.

The song had long stopped playing but still he heard it, deep in his skull, as if someone had shoved a phonograph there, the horn of it directed right inside his ear.

A quick exit, before anyone could reach him. Hypocritical maybe, but he didn’t feel like voicing his troubles right now. Not when it just fucking happened right in front of everyone, with only one of them even getting a hint of what it was all about.

Alastor and his stupid games.

But even when Husk retreated to this room, he could barely relax. The room was just one in a hundred in this empty hotel, but one that Charlie had been so happy to lead him to that first time. She had pointed to each pillow on the bed and even to all the little mints that were stacked on top. She had even been hyped for the shaded lamps on the bedside table, despite the bulbs long weakening. Overkill, like much of what she did. But earnest, and genuine, and one that truly did see the good in everyone despite how each sinner had earned their keep here.

A complete difference from the Radio Demon that had just materialized at his side, a whisper of a soft, nostalgic melody his only warning.

“Oh, Husker. I didn’t peg you to be an early sleeper.”

Followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

Husk didn’t dare turn. Not yet, not until he reached for the cards in his pocket. They could be as sharp as knives, as strong as wire. He was drunk, and tired, and maybe he was past his limit at having himself played around with in front of everyone like it was all just normal.

But, before he could even pull back his arm, something held him in place. A blink. The lamp in his room flickered, and he caught the antlered shadow on his left wall, grabbing at his own. Of fucking course.

“Bad kitty! And after I let you keep your little toys.”

A quick squeeze and Husk sucked air through his teeth, dropping a flurry of his cards to the carpet. Then a violent turn, and the manacle appeared once more around his neck, the sickening green creating valleys and crevices all over Alastor’s grinning face.

Still, that godforsaken melody kept playing.

Then a pull.

Husk choked. He reached for the links, clung to it, even as they burned off his fur. His wings stretched wide, flapped once and then twice. All he could do to keep his ground.

Alastor leaned his head to the side at a painful angle—unclear if he even felt anything while doing so, or maybe he did because he could, relishing the crack of bone and the rupture of blood vessels. All while he held onto Husk’s leash, keeping it taut.

It wasn’t enough to make Husk shut up.

“You fucking psychopath. What more do you even want from me? I already danced with you! I even let you just… touch me like…” Husk could barely speak, but he glared at the Radio Demon with all the rage and humiliation he felt deep within whatever he had left of his soul. “I know you get off to this shit!”

The demon leaned in close. The sight of it was compressing, losing full shape, covered over with black marks and strange symbols that he had never understood. Antlers grew and took shape, their sharp points reaching out to Husk like an embrace. But, they stopped just short of his face, just over his eyes, making him terrified to even blink.

In corrupted static, the music garbled and off-key, Alastor whispered. “And so do you.”

Husk’s grip on the chain loosened. He gritted his teeth. Fuck. This was it. He was going to die, with his agony broadcasted all over Hell.

Another quick pull, and Husk lost his grip completely. The shadow from behind him had grasped at his wings, stinging in the pain as tendons snapped like twine, and suddenly he couldn’t extend them anymore. Another avenue of possible escape, already taken away from him.

Then he was pulled forward again to the real Alastor, a hand grasping his own, fingers interlaced. Husk trembled. Would the Radio Demon start by breaking his hands, going through each limb slowly until he couldn’t even move anymore?

Alastor pulled taut on the chain once more, straining the metal. But they would never break, no matter how much Husk wished for it. It was close to his face, and he wondered if Alastor was going to bound and gag him, burn off his tongue, so that his screams would have no words.

That is not what happened.

Instead, Alastor took the chain and wrapped it carefully, almost delicately around their clasped hands. Husk grimaced at the touch, burning yet freezing all at once. Alastor showed change in emotion at all. Still smiling wide, the antlers retracted back like tentacles. The discordant melody shifted back to harmonious, no longer warped and out of tune. The record played, undisturbed.

Husk blinked. His eyes moved to their hands, tied together by the chain, before going back to Alastor. “What…are you doing?”

A hand reached for his back, pulled him close until his nose was pressed against the front of Alastor’s suit. A finger pushed against a suspender in what could have been seen as playful, and a thumb rubbed circles into the fur, searching for the skin beneath.

“You’re just lovely when you dance,” Alastor said so softly, just against his ear. The teeth nipped just so slightly, tugging at his fur, at him. Husk shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from fear. “And the night is still so young.”

His wings still ached from the sudden clipping of his feathers, and his hand was half-burned from the links pressed against his fur. Even so, he didn’t step back. He felt his feet just almost leave the floor, their bodies pushed even closer than before in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

And he even used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Husk’s body felt like a rag doll, pushed and pulled to go wherever his owner wanted. The chain kept them bound, even if it was already connected to his neck. In the quiet of his room, they slow danced to what had once been one of Husk’s favorite songs as it played in its vintage soundscape.

It was nothing new at all. In fact, it was very much the usual. The playing of an old ballad or a jazz rendition when Alastor was near him. The subtle brushing of knuckles against his own when walking by. A quick pat over his head. A tug of his ears, done so lightly that Husk sometimes wondered if it was imagination. A patting of the shoulder, the hand lingering just a moment too long. A finger rushing down his side. Even a delicate pull of his tail. After all, Alastor would tell him, it was just so very soft.

Husk had pushed back at first. He had groused and cursed, hating to be ridiculed. He still did so now, like the fucking genius that he was, the current pain in his wings reminding him with glee.

Sometimes, Alastor would laugh and be on his way. Other times, not so much.

Husk forgot that he couldn’t pick his battles—for there was none he could win.

He gritted his teeth, letting his body be swayed, shivering at the hot breaths along his neck. The dim lights of his room swam in his vision, and soon, he was falling more against Alastor, pulled in by warmth that could turn scalding at any moment.

(Perhaps dancing was what cured the loneliness, in a way. He really was pathetic.)

He looked to their joined hands, engulfed in green that seemed all encompassing. Then he stepped in something wet, tracking it in the carpet. Too apathetic to the thought that they were dancing out patterns with his own blood.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening,” sang Alastor, in that same recorded voice. But also, Husk could hear Alastor’s own, as if the demon was singing along in his own private booth for his loyal listeners. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

Husk breathed carefully, letting himself fall quiet. When he made his deal, he was never promised he’d understand the Radio Demon or his motivations. He knew, in the end, that he didn’t want to anyway.

The night blurred, until the pain had all but numbed, and their song was all he could hear.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

[topguncortez]

Dragon ~ B. Bradshaw

pairing: B.Bradshaw x F!Reader (Trace sister)

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, dangerous flight situations, g-loc

synopsis: Being the younger sister to one of the top female fighter pilots has you on your toes and struggling to get an ounce of power.

“God for fucking once I don’t need you to bail me out!” Y/N yelled at her sister, as she threw her helmet across the locker room. 

“Well maybe, if you didn’t need bailing out, I wouldn’t have to bail you out!” Phoenix yelled. 

“You got in my fucking way! I fucking had him, Nix!” 

“I wasn’t even in your way and you were losing!” Y/N groaned and slammed a locker shut, walking away from her sister, “Yeah! Real mature! Throwing and slamming shit!” 

“I learned it from you!” 

Y/N couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as her, opting to grab her shower stuff and storm her way down to the other latrines. Y/N pushed the door open, not bothering to stop at the ‘male latrine’ sign on the door. Finding an open bench, she set her stuff down and plopped down with a heavy sigh. 

It was hard being the younger sister to Lieutenant Natasha Trace aka ‘Phoenix’. Y/N had been exactly a year younger than her, most people compared the two as twins, which they both quickly grew to hate. There was always a natural competitiveness to the two, always having to outdo the other, no matter what. Natasha turned 18 and joined the navy, a year later Y/N did too. Natasha got selected for Top Gun, and a year later Y/N did too. Now the both of them found themselves back at Flightown, on a mission where the outcome was still yet to be determined, but one thing was for sure, they both desperately wanted in on it. 

Y/N reached to the back of her head, pulling out the pins that held her hair in a nice and tight bun. She hated having to have her hair done, especially when it came to flying. She felt odd walking around with a braid in, seeing how perfect Phoenix’s hair was every day. So Y/N reverted back to her old lower enlisted ways, waking up almost two hours before first formation, going through almost a whole can of hairspray to make sure not a single flyaway was out of place. It felt like heaven at the end of the day, being able to take her hair down and take her fingers through the crunchy locks. 

Standing up, she took her boots off and then the flight suit that had become her main source of clothing these past two weeks. She stood in her black spandex and white tank top, digging around her hygiene bag for her shower stuff. 

“Did you hit your head or something, Dragon?” She lifted her head up to see the one and only Bradley Bradshaw standing in front of her. 

“No, I know exactly where I am.” 

“Ah, so you know that you are in the men’s latrine, half naked,” 

“Can I help you, Chicken?” 

Bradley chuckled at his nickname. Y/N and Bradley had gotten to know each other on a current duty assignment, and she couldn’t stand him. There was something about the way he walked, the way he talked that had her wanting to punch him. Then, of course, the icing on the cake was his friendship with her sister. All of them, actually. They all seemed to know each other, except for her. Y/N felt like the odd man out, watching them drink and have a good time at the Hard Deck. She would usually buy herself a drink, talk with them about how the day went, but when the music and the pool started, she would slip out the door, undetected and go back to her barracks room. 

“Wondering why you look so sad, really bringing down the vibe,” 

“Of the old, black mold covered, latrine?” 

“Yes. It has a lot of character.” 

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Just a little tiff with the older sister.” 

“Lemme guess, Maverick shot you with a ‘missile’” 

She nodded, slipping her dog tags over her neck. She could feel Bradley’s eyes on her as she bent down to take her knee high green socks off. Bradley’s honey brown eyes traced her long tan legs, seeing the dragon tattoo that resided on her thigh. That's how she got her callsign anyway. A certain young lower enlisted hookup and the reveal of the ink that she hid from her  parents and older sister. Y/N pride herself in knowing she had the first mythical creature callsign in the family, and her's came later. 

“Can I help you, lieutenant?” She asked, noticing his stare on her legs. 

“Did it hurt? The tattoo?” He asked, pointing at the ink. 

Y/N smirked, grabbing the waistband of her spandex and dropping them down her legs, revealing the intricate pattern of scales and flowers that seemed to stop just shy of her ribcage and the navy blue lace thong that was underneath her shorts. 

“No, it felt quite nice. I’ve always had a thing for pain,” Y/N said. 

Rooster was speechless, taking in the sight of her tan skin, her body almost on full display being covered by some flimsy undergarments that he could rip away in seconds. The sly smirk on Y/N’s face, as she turned around, letting him have a full look at her ass. Bradley felt all the blood go rushing straight to his lower region, as she grabbed a towel from on top of the lockers. 

“Any other questions, sir?” Y/N asked, turning back around. Bradley shook his head, watching as she grabbed the bottom of her tank top, shedding it off her body, “That’s enough of a show for you, sir.” 

All Bradley could do was nod, and watch Y/N walk away towards the showers. Once he heard the shower curtain slide shut he had to take a deep breath, trying to get his body to remember what breathing was. He adjusted himself in his flight suit, choosing to grab his shower stuff and shower in the privacy of his home. 

Where his thoughts were anything but pure as he leaned against his shower wall, fist wrapped around his aching cock, as he jerked himself off to the image of her. He could only imagine the way your skin felt under his hands, him tracing the intricate patterns of the tattoo on her hip. The sounds that would leave her lips, even hearing the small grunts and whines while doing 200 push-ups on the tarmac were enough to drive him crazy sometimes. Or the way his name would fall from her lips, or better yet, the way she addressed him properly. 

“Sir. . . is this good?” 

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s good, Y/N,” Bradley cursed, moving his hand up and down faster along his cock. Feeling the pleasure grow hotter and hotter in his body, until he was shooting white hot ropes of cum onto his stomach. 

— — — 

The next day everyone gathered in the classroom, Y/N and Phoenix taking opposite corners of the room, her in front left corner, next to Bob, her WSO, and Y/N in the back right, in a row by herself. Y/N liked sitting in the back, being able to watch everyone else. She watched as everyone filtered in, watching as Rooster swaggered in last, the certain way he walked with such confidence. When Maverick came in, everyone rose to attention until he called you at ease. 

“We’re switching things up a bit,” Maverick said looking at the class. Everyone seemed to shift in their seats, feeling the nerves. Maverick always kept them on their toes, in the air and on the ground, “Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Fritz. . . and Dragon, you’ll be flying as a team.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened as Phoenix turned around and looked directly at her younger sister, her face unreadable. Maverick dismissed everyone, and Y/N was one of the first people out of the room, trying to avoid her older sister, but that didn’t stop her from yelling Y/N’s  name. 

“Y/N!” Phoenix yelled, not even bothering to use her callsign, “What the hell was that!” 

“I didn’t know! I had no idea he was going to-” Y/N’s speech was cut off by Natasha’s harsh slap to her face. Y/N stumbled a bit, and then found her footing, quickly lunging towards her sister, “You bitch!” 

“Whoa!” Payback said, getting in between the two females. He grabbed Y/N’s waist, as Bob grabbed Phoenix, “Hey don’t kill each other before the mission.” 

“You throw one fucking fit about me saving your ass and you got me benched!” Phoenix yelled. 

“Maybe Mav finally saw that you’re a shitty pilot and knows you can’t complete this mission!” 

“Says the one who I had to bail out!” 

“Ugh, I hope you go into g-lock!” 

“Yeah, well I hope your eject-” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, Phoenix regretted it. There were some things that they would never say to each other, especially doing some of the most dangerous missions in US military history. No matter how mad they got at each other, they never wished something ill like death or a failed ejection. Payback released Y/N’s body, and she pushed his arms away, going straight for the tarmac. 

“Dragon! Wait!” Phoenix yelled, but Payback stepped in the way, stopping her, “Move!” 

“No, she’s about to go up in the air, she needs a clear head.” Payback said. Phoenix nodded and prayed to whatever God was listening to that her little sister would be okay. 

Y/N knew where Rooster was, knowing that he liked to sit in the silence of the locker room before getting suited up and heading to the tarmac. It once again didn’t phase her as she walked right into the men’s latrine, finding Rooster where she expected him to be. 

“Is it your fault that I’m not flying with Phoenix? Did you do this shit?!” Y/N yelled at him. 

Rooster stood up from his spot on the bench and looked at her, “I said something to Mav about possibly split-” 

“God can’t you men leave anything alone! I don’t need you or her or Mav or anyone to come to my rescue! There’s a reason i’m a solo pilot and that’s because I can handle my own shit without a fucking man sitting behind my shoulder telling me what to do!” 

Rooster opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N left the latrine before he could. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. That’s not what he was expecting when he talked to Maverick about possibly splitting Dragon and Phoenix up for a flight exercise. He was hoping she would be thankful for the opportunity to do a training exercise without having to share the sky with her sister. Instead, she seemed more angry at the fact that Phoenix wasn’t going to be in the air with her. 

The next time Rooster saw Dragon was during the pre-flight check. Bradley was going to walk over and say something, but Hangman beat him to it. Bradley stopped in his tracks, watching as Hangman gave her that panty-dropping smile he gives to every female he sees. Bradley knew that she saw right through Hangman's antics, usually not giving him the time of day, but she laughed. And not one of those awkward chuckles, a hearty laugh, tilting her head back and squinting her eyes. Bradley moved from his spot over to his plane, trying to fill his mind with the thoughts of the flight exercise and not the way she put her hand on Hangman’s forearm. 

Y/N climbed in her plane, getting comfortable in her seat before slipping on the harness. She let out a shaky breath as she looked around her cockpit, checking the gauges and reporting back her pre-flight numbers to her flight crew. 

“You feel good about this, Dragon?” Her flight chief, Grizzly asked. 

“I’m good,” Y/N said, and grabbed her mask, strapping it down, before flipping the switch to close the top. She waited for the flight crew to taxi her out into the runway, looking to her right to see her WSO team ready for flight as well, “Alright, let’s rock this shit.” 

Y/N waited in line for her turn to take off. She gripped the joystick in her hand, watching as Rooster, Payback and Fanboy took off before her. When it was her turn, she closed her eyes and said a small prayer, before pushing the joystick forward, letting the plane move and catch speed. She felt the nose catch air, and pulled back the joystick quickly, letting the plane get completely off the ground and sail through the air. In the hangar, Phoenix took a deep breath watching her sister take off in her F/A-18. 

There was something about cruising through the sky, seeing the sereness of the earth from a high altitude was peaceful. There had been times where Dragon would take an old fighter jet up, and just cruise around Flightown at sunset, trying to “chase the sun” before it went down. She loved flying, it was one of the things no one could take away from her. 

“You good there, Dragon?” She heard Rooster call to her via headset. 

“Let’s just get this shit done,” Y/N said, watching the Roosters move. 

“Fine, drop into the canyon,” Rooster answered. 

Y/N watched as Bradley dropped into the pretend canyon, following the flight pattern on his screen, Fanboy and Payback following in suit. Once it was her turn, Y/N dropped into the canyon, following the sharp turns that were presented on her screen. She had memorized this map in her sleep, knowing exactly how tight and how fast to take the turns. She also knew that time was important, keeping her eye on the ticking clock in the corner. 

“Come on Rooster, speed it up,” Y/N whispered. 

“Line it up, Fanboy,” Payback called to his WSO. 

“Lined up, drop it, Rooster!” Fanboy called for Bradley to drop the “missile” on the target. 

“Fuck!” Bradley cursed, missing his target, “It’s on you, Dragon.” 

Y/N inhaled as she flew closer to the drop zone, calling to her WSO team to line up the target. She watched as Fritz lined the laser, giving her a clear shot. She closed her eyes, counting the seconds until she was directly over it, hitting the button to drop the missile. Y/N opened her eyes, seeing that she hit the target. The next part was the worst, as she began the sharp incline out of the deep canyon. She pulled the joystick back as far as it would go, feeling her jet almost go completely vertical. 

“Keep breathing. . . keep. . . breathing,” She chanted to herself as she was fighting consciousness, “Keep. . .” She felt her head getting heavier, her eyes struggling to keep open and the blood leaving her brain. Y/N maintained to stop her jet from climbing any higher, but now she was starting to fall out of the sky. 

“Dragon!” Rooster yelled. 

“Fuck! She’s in g-loc!” Payback yelled. 

“Come on, Dragon!” Rooster called out, “Wake up!” Rooster directed his jet to go after her, hoping that him getting on her sensor would be loud enough to wake her up, “Dragon! Y/N!” 

It was like being in a dream, the constant beeping and hearing her name being called in her subconscious mind. She felt her head rock back in her helmet and her eyes flutter open. It took her a second to get her barings of where she was, but thankfully she realized what was going on. 

“Holy shit!” Y/N cursed, jerking the joystick up and pulling her out of a nose dive, “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

“Dragon, you good?” Rooster called, flying next to her. She looked over and nodded, feeling tears in her eyes. 

She had never been so thankful for getting her feet back on the ground. She didn’t even spend long doing post flight, and no one kept her longer than she needed to be there. Maverick didn’t say much to her either, telling her she did a good job and that he was glad that she landed safely. Phoenix was too scared to talk to her, opting not to say anything as Y/N grabbed her stuff from her locker room and went back to her barracks room. 

She was pretty sure she drained the whole floor out of hot water. Her shoulders and back were red when she stepped out of the shower, wiping the steam off of the mirror. She sighed, grabbing her hair brush and brushing out the tangles and clumps of hairspray she hadn’t totally gotten out of her hair. She did her best to push the emotions of the day away. She was still mad at Phoenix and Rooster, but she was also terrified of what had happened. Y/N had never hit g-loc, she knew what it was and how terrifying it could be, but the fact that there were seconds that she was in the air and not in control of anything was absolutely terrifying. 

Y/N got dressed in a pair of Navy issued sweatpants and a unit t-shirt. She grabbed one of the beers she had snuggled back into her dorm room, and cracked it open, sitting down on her couch in total silence. She sipped her beer, letting her mind go completely blank of the day's events, taking in a deep breath. It felt good, peaceful to be by herself and being able to decompress, until there was a knock on the door. 

Y/N groaned, getting up from the couch and going to her door, looking in the peephole and let out another frustrated groan seeing who it was. She opened the door and Bradley smiled at her shyly. 

“The hell do you want?” Y/N groaned. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay, since you almost died.” 

“I did not almost die.” 

“Almost.” 

“God, you’re annoying! This is what I meant! I don’t need bailing out!” 

“You went into g-loc,” Bradley said, stepping into her dorm, and shutting the door behind him, “Your brain lost blood and you passed out.. . In a flying death machine.” 

“I know! Okay. . . I know. . .” Y/N said softly, “I-I-” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bradley said, walking over to her and pulling her into his arms. She gripped him tightly, afraid he would disappear or this was still a side effect of being in g-loc. Bradley kissed the top of her forehead as she sniffled. 

“Wanna get drunk with me?” Y/N asked, pulling away from her. 

Bradley chuckled and looked at the six pack sitting on her counter, “I mean. . . you only live once.” 

Bradley watched as she smiled, and walked over to her counter, grabbing a beer and digging for her bottle opener. Bradley smiled shyly to himself, trying to suppress his feelings that he felt. It took everything in him to not grab her and kiss her but he refrained giving her a small thanks, as she handed him a beer and then dragged him over to the couch.

#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader #rooster Bradshaw #rooster Bradshaw imagine #rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagine

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

#tag game #bake me please #bake me please the series #not me #not me the series #never let me go #never let me go the series #my dear gangster oppa #my dear gangster oppa the series #moonlight chicken #history 3: make our days count #pit babe #pit babe the series #love mechanics #tonhon chonlatee #love in the air #love in the air the series #blacked out and tagged every show oops

[thatswhatsushesaid]

i wish there was a way to avoid seeing romantic 3zun art/fic in the tags without also filtering out any and all discussion of non-romantic 3zun dynamics. and it's not just because i don't ship it.

like, i am extremely here for the hot mess that is the dissolution of the sworn brotherhood! i have lost hours of sleep turning the incompatibility of nmj and jgy's worldviews over and over in my head like a grim thought-pancake! i am bewitched by the narrative spectre of nmj and lxc's friendship-that-once-was, which casts a long and complex shadow over lxc's inability (or refusal) to recognize the real and present danger that nmj was to jgy's life, up until it was too late for him to meaningfully intervene. and i am of course never going to shut up about the relationship between jgy and lxc, which was something that managed to grow and thrive and bring them both real strength and joy, against all odds. like these two men would not have been friends, and would never have become friends, let alone each other's closest confidantes, had the war not thrown them into each other's paths outside the normal strictures of cultivation world society. i'm still insane about precious that emotional intimacy remains between them, however one chooses to interpret that relationship, because for the two of them, there really is nothing comparable to it in the rest of the book. love that shit.

fanon 3zun as a dysfunctional polycule is a thing that floats many a shipper's boat, which is fine, whatever works for you etc., but it is frustrating trying to sift the fanon out of the search results when there is no canon non-romantic 3zun tag. because canon 3zun isn't a polycule, just like the individual ships that can be derived from it aren't canon either. canon 3zun is unbalanced and volatile and unfair to each different member of the sworn brotherhood for different reasons. canon 3zun is not three different men with three different-but-equal levels of romantic investment in each other. lxc is biased in jgy's favour and chooses his company and perspective over nmj's. yet lxc is nmj's only real friend, and the only person who seems capable of extracting reason or compassion from him, other than nhs. and while nmj was the first person to recognize meng yao's worth and promote him to a position of authority during the sunshot campaign, whatever respect and admiration they once held for each other was irreparably damaged by 1) what happened at nightless city, and 2) the jinlintai steps confrontation.

maybe i can just draw this hold on--

okay i tried drawing two separate diagrams to help illustrate my thought process here, and i think?? this one gets at the heart of my thoughts better, even if it isn't perfect. here's the key to unlocking the above quagmire of colours and lines and my chicken scratch:

green = nmj; gold = jgy; blue = lxc (simple enough)

type of relationship (solid line = friendship; dotted line = ??? professional?)

gradients = an attempt at visualizing the level of investment each party has in their respective relationships with each other. this one was extremely difficult to render and i'm not 100% happy with what i've settled on, but it's the closest approximation to the idea in my brain.

arrows = indicates my clumsy effort at showing who is "moving towards" whom, strictly in terms of the longer term trajectory of the characters' relationships with each other in the text.

prints this out to stick it on my wall and stare at it for a while. hmmm. hmmmm.

#salty peak sect 🧂 #non-romantic 3zun #this post sort of became about two separate ideas and i could not be bothered to separate them out into two different posts womp womp #also yes i realize that cql x!yao is essentially as canon as cql wangx!an and xuanl! #but this is just about the novel canon and in the novel nothing is explicitly romantic about any of the relationships within 3zun

[monsterrae1]

🚧WIP SNIPPET GAME🚧

Tags for the tag @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @your-catfish-friend !

Share a random line of text from your current WIP or a part of dialogue from one of your characters. Do not give any explanation or context, and see what your followers think. Then, tag a few friends to keep the randomness going!

“He’s texting his boyfriend” Sophia sing sang, wiggling her eyebrows and stealing a cookie from the open pack that Eddie had been munching on.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we haven’t even been on a single date yet”

“Yeah, cause you’re too chicken shit to ask him out,” Sophia pointed out

Tagging if they wanna do this @brokenribsdiaz @cowboy-buddie @loserdiaz @buddierights @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33 @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @bekkachaos @the-likesofus @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @housewifebuck @disasterbuckdiaz @spaceprincessem and whoever else wants to play!

#wip game #buddie #buddie wip #wip break my heart

[dmagedgoods]

OC Mannerism - Eneas

picrew I also was tagged by @dujour13. 💗 Thank youuu!

You find the amazing template by @the-raging-tempest here. I'm not sure if anyone wasn't tagged yet. Please feel tagged if you weren't! It's so easy to lose track of the tagging. 😔

- NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES >> Usually around 4 or 5 well enough to communicate in them mostly fluently and in complex ways. - TONE OF VOICE >> high / average / deep (tenor with a warm, pleasant timbre) - ACCENT >> hard to place, faint, it may be an accent or just the fact that he speaks certain words very clearly and pronounced and a touch too flawlessly - DEMEANOR >> confident but polite / shy / approachable / hostile / charming and winning / warm / captivating when at his best / dramatic - POSTURE >> slumped / straight / stiff / appearing relaxed but his steps and movements are controlled if you look closely HABITS head tilting / swaying (or at least slightly moving with music if some is playing) / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / sometimes stands close / sometimes stands at a distance COMPLEXITY (Fill in the circle’s as you wish) - VOCABULARY >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ Eneas is eloquent and well-spoken; in many cases, he shows sophisticated, polished manners and his choice of vocabulary reflects it. Words are his strongest weapon aside from his magic, he uses them to charm and to captivate, to draw in and paint pictures. Furthermore, he loves to spontaneously recite poems or to quote from famous literature. He is a musician but also a storyteller and lives to entertain and to use words with utmost effect and accompanied by a dramatic flair. - EMOTION >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️ He rarely shows his true feelings, still his way of talking or telling little tales never lacks the needed emotion. His words often have a theatric element. - SENTENCE STRUCTURE >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪ He can make it simple. But he rarely wants to. Speaking has the potential to become a form of art in itself after all. Usually, he still makes sure his sentences aren't too complicated or confusing, he wants his audience to follow him after all, but his structures sometimes serve to hide a second meaning or a well-placed little lie. In other cases, he just enjoys some theatrics, the drama of his own statements, or obscures in the name of storytelling. PROFANITY - FREQUENCY >> ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ Almost never. And if so with a touch of irony to it. He doesn’t mind profanity used by others, not at all, but he himself refrains from all too rude expressions in most cases. Of course, when he plays certain roles, profanity might be part of it. - CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity insults) >> ⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️ In the rare cases he uses profanity, he may pick something unexpected and creative, yes. But usually, he much prefers to insult in more subtle ways coming with a sharper sting. BOLD THAT APPLY

arse / ass / asshole / bastard / bitch / bloody / bugger / bollocks / chicken shit / crap / cunt / dick / frick / fuck / horseshit / motherfucker / piss / prick / pussy / screw / shit / shitass / son of a bitch / twat / wanker / damn / hell THIS OR THAT

straightforwardor cryptic / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind / masculinity, neutrality, or and femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness / praise or and equivocation / frankness or flattery / excessive or minimal hand gestures / name-calling or magnanimity / friendly charming or blunt IMPORTANT QUESTIONS - DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? almost always / frequently / rarely / never - DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? almost always / frequently / sometimes/ rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically - YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? but / though / although / however / perhaps/ maybe - HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS?  Confidently but very politely, with a small explanation that he has to go and why (might be a lie or the truth). - WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? upper / middle / lower (depending on the role he plays) - IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? accent  / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t Anything that wasn’t touched on? Eneas is an excellent and smooth liar and frequently picks his words to manipulate and deceive. Aside from all of this, he sings very well, his voice claim is Steve Barton.

#oc: eneas #my ocs #character mannerism #tag games #pwotr pals

[evodevo-geekmonkey]

Tanthamore ⚔❤🍑 Fic Recs

I’ve seen people in the tags looking for fic recs so here’s a list of my personal favourtie Tanthamore fics. (I’m going to link in my bio so people can go to it) I’ll be adding to this as I read more ^_^

Oneshot Fics

NOTHING SAFE IS WORTH THE DRIVE

leonhart_17

This is probably one of my favourites ever. Defeating the Wyrm, fighting together, getting married on the battlefield. It’s a comfort fic I’ve read it like a dozen times. (oneshot)

//////////////

LIFE IS A BAD DREAM

isabrella

Oneshot where Kit comforts Jade after Ballentine at Nockmaar. So lovely and tender <3 

//////////////

LAY DOWN YOUR ARMOR (COME LIE BARE WITH ME)

saintbot

Super sweet moment between Kit and Jade after the end of season 1. Kit taking off the Cuirass but mostly just them being together and cute and a bit of sexy stuff too haha. also one I go back to a lot.

//////////////

LET'S TAKE A KNIFE AND CUT THE WORLD IN TWO

spybrarian

Super creepy exorcism fic that does a cool job weaving Willow lore into the demonic apocalypse

//////////////

SOFT BLAZING CROWNS

Jade and Elora friendship fic in Elora helps Jade with a photoshoot in the fall leaves for Kit. Elora and Jade are adorable and you can really feel the love between Jade and Kit even though she's not in the fic.

//////////////

//////////////

Completed multichapter Fics

FULFILLING FATE

overkill_max

Another alternate universe where Kit ran away. I love this one, it’s so pretty? Kit has a bit of a different personality (a bit more mature I think… or just self destructive) but it’s so good (this is the sequel to escaping fate) (But I haven’t read that one haha)

//////////////

IT'S THE EYE OF THE DRAGON, IT'S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT

AlderaanTourismAgency

Holy shit this one’s COOL. The gang fights a dragon and it’s badass and gory and there’s romance and angst and fun and glass everywhere. Very good action and character writing and a really good description of the gore (plus it’s hilarious, the humour is Willow 2022 to the max). 

//////////////

RETURN TO TIR ASLEEN

DianeLS

I am not done this one yet but I’m enjoying it soooooo much. It’s fluff and smut and everyone being good to each other and Tanthamore being the awesome couple we know they are. Title says it all, the go back home and deal with the aftermath of season 1. 

Also check out the prequel here for some great Shattered Sea in between the scenes fanfic :D

//////////////

A LITTLE LESS HARD TIME (A LITTLE MORE BLISS)

Geek_and_Nina

Kit is a stressed out business woman, Jade is a lonely farmer. They meet and farm life ensues. It’s adorable. It’s cozy. It is giving me romantic fantasies about farm life and I want chickens now.

//////////////

CULT CAPITAL OF CASHMERE

AlderaanTourismAgency

Prequel to Eye of the Dragon. We all go to Cashmere and there are cults and Boorman’s mom and it’s just a lot of fun. I’m really curious to see them fight these cults. (And also it’s hilarious and the Tanthamore romance is the sweetest)

//////////////

LIKE CONSTELLATIONS, A MILLION YEARS AWAY

StorySpinner_91

This one is SO cool. Its set in a universe where Kit and Jade (and the whole crew) get to pilot giant robots. And Kit is the heir to this huge (planet sized) company and they go on adventures in space. Also the characters are SO well written and the dynamics between all of them are so good (plus the Tanthamore and the Graylora in this is the best). 

//////////////

THE ARCHITECT OF CATASTROPHE

Silver85

This one’s pretty dark. What if Kit took Airks place and trained with the crone? Lot’s of angst, angry Kit and some cool magic. 

//////////////

Ongoing multichapter fics

I'LL BE THE SWEETEST THING TO EVER SCARE YOU

spybrarian

Jade gets possessed to save Kit and it gets creepy af. Also there’s a scary horse named gravy. 

#that's it for now #trying not to get this into the tags because I don't want to spam with posts that are for my page #but the title is unavoidable so people know what this is lol #anyway will probably add more once Tanthamore week starts #now time to try to code this into my bio #hmmmm

[boogiewrites]

Cherry Bomb Part 2

Characters: Eddie Munson x OFC Mary Cherry

Summary:  Mary Cherry, a peer-proclaimed good church girl decides once turning 18 that she no longer wants to be that angelic good girl. She wants to be bad.

This chapter is about the growing chemistry between Mary and Eddie. He smokes her up and gets her to open up about herself. He introduces her to 'real' music and changes her worldview forever.

Comment & Reblog to let me know you like it and want more!

Warnings/Tags: Drug use (weed). Conversations about sex, sexual tension. Sexual awakening with metal and Eddie playing guitar. Hands.

Part One if you missed it.

Part 3 link at the bottom!

Mary and Eddie formulated a plan. They used her skills of scheduling and his skill of sneaking around and found pockets of time they could meet up. She scheduled things weeks in advance and it was all very foreign but also very amusing to Eddie. He didn’t know if he’d ever talked to someone who seemed to have their shit together to such a degree as Mary. He was used to metal heads and D and D players, groups not known for their full social calendars.

“I didn’t know churches had so much stuff going on.” he looks over the scribbled notes.

“Well you don’t HAVE to do it but if you want to look good you do.”

“All about keeping up appearances.” he mumbles.

She stops and makes a point to look him in the eyes. He expects her to scold him. “I’m so glad you get it, Eddie.”

“Get it?”

“No one else will admit that all this stuff is for show. They pretend it’s all about God and being close to him but it’s never felt like it’s about that. The meanest people I’ve met have been in church. Those old ladies are downright nasty. I didn’t wear tights ONE time to service and they called me a trollop behind my back!”

Eddie’s face lights up, a laugh down into his chest as he pushes back his hair and she’s distracted from her train of thought for a moment. The sound of the leather on his jacket, and the glint of silver from his jewelry was enough to capture her mind in rebellious thought. He was so unlike her in appearance, and yet he understood her mind better than anyone she’d spoken to before. “I didn’t know people still used that word.”

“They talk about me not wearing tights but if they knew what went down at those church lock-ins they’d forget all about my tights.”

“DO go on.” he pleads.

“Well last lock-in Ben fingered Cindy while everyone was watching a movie,” she says so casually he chokes on his drink for a moment. “And she denies it but I KNOW Lisa was going at it with someone outside a few weeks back.” she absentmindedly takes a sip. “During service people sneak off all the time. No one’s in the basement, there are plenty of bathrooms, they find a way.” she shrugs.

“I knew those church kids were gettin’ some.” he hits his hand to the table softly, “I’d never been able to confirm it but - thanks for that.”

“It’s nice to be able to tell someone to be honest.”

“Do you ever sneak around during church?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Oh no. I sit with my parents.” she shakes her head.

“Ol Mikey’s never wanted to… ya know.” he clicks his teeth and winks. It at least gets a brief smile out of her.

“Nah, he’s next to me and his parents next to him.” she sounds sad and it’s more than piqued his interest.

“I don’t mean just in church. From your list I’m guessing not.” he narrows his eyes, voice inflecting to lessen the invasive question. She doesn’t answer right away, avoiding his eyes. “If that’s too forward, sorry. I’m trying to gauge your comfort level, ya know? See where you’re at. You could be a freak for all I know.”

This makes her roll her eyes his way. “No more of one than you. My list is pretty straightforward. I’ve not done anything that’s on it before.”

“Nice way to dance around the question, I can respect that.” he nods and taps his chin in thought.

“What about you?” she asks after a pause, looking at her list.

“What about me?”

“Have YOU ever…” she tried to figure out what she really wants to ask and chickens out. “Done the things on my list?”

“Oh yeah, all of it.” he nods without hesitation. “You came to the right person. If I do say so, and I do.” he grins. “I’m not gonna judge you alright. Everyone goes at their own pace. We’ll figure it out together, kay?” he leans forward to hold her attention.

“Thanks. And thanks for not calling me stupid or the idea dumb or anything.”

“I’ve heard plenty of stupid plans in my life and this isn’t one of them. You’re wanting to break free from your chains, man. You’re rebelling against the system. You’re thinking outside the box. I love that shit. It’s metal as hell, Mary, and just from this conversation I’ve gained a lot of respect for you. This was brave.”

“Thanks.” is the best she can manage for a moment. She loved his enthusiasm, the clenching of his fists, and the way his eyes lit up when he got excited. “I’ve gained a lot for you too. You’re being really nice and I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to even talk to me, let alone help me out.”

“And you didn’t have to wake up and figure out the world you were living in was full of shit. But here we are,” he answers proudly. “Anyone willing to see past the wool they pull over our eyes is good by me. I’m all about nonconformity and being your own person, so this… you are exactly the sort of person I’m happy to help.”

“You’re really nice.” she answers with sad eyes.

“Don't tell anyone.” he whispers and winks.

He gets a soft smile from her, looking away and blushing so red he notices across the table and in the dim lighting. She considers telling him this was the nicest anyone had been to her in a long time. Everyone talked to her like she was dumb because of the church crowd she was in with. She wasn’t dumb, and he was supporting her point of view. It was a heart-touching change of pace for her. Before she can get sentimental, her eyes glance at her watch. She slightly jumps when she sees the time. “Oh, I’ve got to get going soon. I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten.”

“It’s not even 9 yet.” Eddie answers with a deadpan voice.

“Yeah, I have to be home before 9:30.”

“Not very bad of you.” he tsks.

“Baby steps.” she insists. “If I get grounded, I can’t do anything. I have to be smart about it.”

“You wanna knock one of these off your list before you head out?” he offers, sitting up to stretch his back.

“Which one?” she asks with a deep-set brow. It retreats and she lets out a noise of understanding as he tapped his pack of cigarettes against the table. “I have perfume in my bag, I think I can get away with it.” she nods happily, her childlike wonder in her eyes seeming so out of place to him now.

“You drive here?” he asks, standing and moving slowly, letting her follow in his shadow as he made his way outside.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah, my van is -”

“The one over there yeah. I’ve seen it at school.” she nods and puts her hands in her pockets nervously as he stands relaxed at the corner of the old stone building.

“Hard to miss,” he adds before lighting his own cigarette. “If you want to seem more relaxed and less well, tight, you’re gonna have to learn some body language,” he mumbles with a cigarette on his lip, moving to grab her arms take them out of her pockets and shake them. “Loosen up. Stand like you don’t care about going anywhere. Like you have every right to be right where you are. Take up some space.” he moves her around, using his foot to kick her legs apart. “Don’t put your hands together like that, here -” he hands her the cigarette that was in his mouth. “One hand with this, other on the hip. Stick it out. There ya go. Better. Not perfect but better.” he nods in approval before getting himself a cigarette but is distracted by a coughing fit that erupts next to him and he starts to laugh. “Long way to go, kid.”

“These taste so BAD!” she speaks with her tongue stuck out of her mouth and he continues to openly laugh at her.

“It was on YOUR list.” he retorts. “Give it back if you don’t want it.”

“No! I’m gonna try.” she steadies herself and with that cute wrinkled nose, she tries again. “Why does it taste like…dirt that’s gone bad?”

“Because that’s exactly what it is.”

“Good to know.” she mutters before taking a less noisy drag, only silently gagging this time.

“Hold it like his. Not like some fancy french woman” he manipulates her hand. “You gotta loosen up. Head up, confidence is key. People aren’t going to respect you unless you look like you deserve it.”

“I don’t look like I deserve respect?” her eyes go wide with question.

“You look like - don’t take this the wrong way. An easy target. Like you can be taken advantage of.”

“I do?” She looks slightly mortified.

“Bad people know what to look for in people. It’s a skill they gather, learning how to spot insecure people so they know they won’t stand up for themselves. Think of it this way. If you saw me like this -” he stand with his arms crossed, a neutral but vaguely threatening look on his face. “Would you wanna mess with me?”

“No.”

“How about now?” He shoves his hands into his pockets like she had and looks at the ground, weight shifting from leg to leg. “You see the difference?”

“Yeah I do now.” she scratches her head.

“Just think, don’t fuck with me, in your head and the rest will follow.” he offers with a sweep of a hand that now had another cigarette in it.

“That…weirdly makes sense.”

“Of course it does.” he retorts.

“I’ve been thinking oh God, no one mess with me, I’m scared, I don’t know what I’m doing.” he laughs as he lets out a small cough.

“Yeah I could tell.” he nods and grins.

“It’s been that obvious. Wow.” she shakes her head, now standing with arms crossed, cigarette pinched between her pink painted nails. “I’ve been at this with you for a few hours and I’ve already had a full-blown revelation.”

“Just wait for 48 hours, that one is a real doozy.” —-----------------------------------------------------

There was always a lot going on in a teenager's head at any given time. But since their meeting, more than usual had been following Mary and Eddie around. She assumed he hadn’t been thinking of her as much as she had him. But she’d been taking his advice to heart. It was natural for her to light up a little when she saw him in the lunchroom. She knew she couldn’t go talk to him but a sincere smile, a small head nod once they met eyes and the tiniest almost nonexistent wave of her fingertips clutched around her books caught him off guard mid-bite.

His eye went wider than he intended. He hadn’t expected her to acknowledge him at all. He didn’t know if he should acknowledge her back. He lost his cool exterior for a moment, eyes darting around paranoid before matching hers again. He gave a slight nod back and took a bite of his sandwich before breaking the eye contact.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin asked in a pubescent screech.

With a mouth full of food Eddie's eyes swing quickly to Dustin's sitting diagonal from him at the lunch table. “Mhmm? What the hell was what?”

“That… whatever happened with that pretty popular girl just now.” Dustin very obviously points and Eddie slaps his hand down into his tray of food.

“It was nothing.” a tone that clearly said back off.

“Nothing my ass. She did a little…” he does a tiny little wave of his hand.

“Who was that? Little Marry Unpoppable Cherry?” the older club member jokes under his breath.

“Maybe not so unpoppable.” the one next to him adds in an amused snort.

Everyone but Eddie laughs.

“Her name is Mary… and I wouldn’t call her popular OR call her by that nickname. How’d you like if someone called you some shitty nickname behind your back?”

The shamed boy shuts his mouth.

“You know who gave her that nickname? Those pricks that are sitting around her. We aren’t like them. We don’t call people stupid little nicknames and talk shit when we don’t know what the hell we’re talking about. Then we’re no better than them.” he roughly gestures with one hand in the general direction of the table where she sat with the athletes.

“Sorry.” someone mutters.

A quiet falls across the table. “So you’re not going to tell me what the hell that was about?”

Eddie glares into Dustin's soul with his almost black-brown eyes.

“Alright! Alright! Can’t blame a guy for tryin’!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie’s sitting in his van, a street over from the library. This was the quietest his music had ever been in his vehicle and it was making him stir crazy. He drummed to a song faintly playing as he popped his lips and looked into the rear view mirror. He didn’t want to draw much attention to himself, as he didn’t want to seem suspicious and not only potentially blow Mary’s cover but his own. He pauses, eyes focused as a form comes into view. It was Mary, her sparklingly white reeboks stood out against the grass as she stumbled, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. Underneath was a stripped blouse of white and pink. A small V neck and rolled sleeves is a completely normal thing to see on a woman anytime, but for her, it was a bold step. Eddie only recalled noticing her in modest dresses or some kind of group t-shirt and jeans. She pulls the ribbon from her hair, fluffing it as she approaches, her sweatshirt now hung over her arm. She’s bright-eyed and only slightly huffing as she finishes her light jog at Eddie's van door.

“Hey!” she chirps and plops into the seat willingly.

“Go okay?”

“Oh yeah. The car’s parked between the library and the theatre. No one saw me leave the library.” she smooths down her fluffy hair, past her shoulders, and is now being fidgeted with at the ends.

“Nice break, jailbird.” he jokes with a smile before they make the drive to his place. As soon as they’re on the edge of town he turns his music back up. The head banging and hand drumming helped hide his nervousness. He shouldn’t have been. He’d had much more nerve-wracking plans with women before driving back to his place. Maybe he was picking up on hers. But she seemed oddly content in the passenger seat, head slightly moving with the music, watching the world go by outside the van window.

She followed him with a perfectly polite expression, like a puppy up to the trailer behind him.

“Ladies first,” he says with a slight bow and wave of his arm. She enters to find a room full of collectibles and trinkets. Hats hung like decorations and mugs lined shelves around the room. “Welcome, welcome. Excuse the mess.” he hunches and turns from her, headed toward the open space’s kitchen. There wasn’t a mess to speak of, he’d cleaned before she came over. He’d seen the house her family lived in, and it wasn’t hard for him to feel intimidated about where he lived when faced with how the other half lived. And Mary was certainly the other half. Her family wasn’t wealthy, but a two-story house in a nice neighborhood with two working parents and two cars was far from the situation he was in.

“Are these yours?” she asks, not turning his way.

“No, they’re uh… my uncles. Well, technically my aunt’s, was - my aunts.” he scratches his head, going blind to the decor of the space after it going unchanged for so long.

“They're cute.”

He huffs out a laugh, watching her inspect some hanging above the kitchen bar with nothing but genuine curiosity on her face. He didn’t expect her to be rude, but it wouldn’t have been the first time someone tried to be sarcastically nice about the place. “They used to uh, travel. A lot.”

“I wish I’d been to this many places.”

“Yeah me too.” he adds quietly, watching her before she returns to his face.

“The movie won’t start for another,” she glances at her watch. “Hour and a half and it has a run time of 86 minutes so we have plenty of time.”

“I know.” he gives a warm smile she doesn’t expect. “I got the uh, itinerary note you put in my locker.” he laughs, searching in his pocket and finding it and giving it a shake. “I’ve gotten plenty of things slid into my locker but none of them was an itinerary.”

“If I’m going to lie, I want to be sure we’re on the same page. To be a good liar you need to know all the information to manipulate the truth in your favor,” she explains confidently.

“I’ve created a monster.” he raises his head dramatically.

“I’ve always been like this.” she smiles proudly. “Except it’s been used to keep track of things like tests and babysitting. Never for lying. But it helps.”

“Whatever works.”

“And your Uncle is already gone for the night?” She knew he'd told her that already but she asked again out of nervousness.

“Yeah, he’ll be gone until the suns up. You’ll be long gone by then.”

“If this doesn’t kill me.” she tightens her lips.

“It won’t.” he laughs and moves to take her shoulders. “C’mon. It’s in my room. You’ll be FINE.”

“I’ve heard it makes you stupid.”

“That’s just a myth.” he groans.

“That it kills brain cells.”

“That’s just propaganda. Did they have you watch Reefer Madness in church or something?”

“How did you know?” she stumbles slightly looking back at him.

“Oh God, they did? Shit, I was joking. I’m sorry sweetheart. They’ve…they’ve really done a number on you, haven’t they. Damn cult.” he mutters as he still has hold of her shoulders gently, directing her down the short hall to his bedroom.

“I had someone tell me that one time. They were shouting we were in a cult, that we were sheep and needed to wake up. Whatever that meant. So I looked up the word cult in the dictionary and it said “a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object”. So I mean… they were kinda right weren’t they?”

“You memorized the definition? Didn’t know you were such a nerd.” he teases and gets a laugh out of her.

“Knowledge is power, Eddie.” she answers defiantly.

“Oh someone’s been watching their Schoolhouse Rock.” he mocks.

“Shut up!��� she laughs as she tries to shove him playfully but he pushes her unexpectedly to plop onto his bed.

“So tell me, Miss Cherry, why would such an apt pupil, armed with all the knowledge a brainwashing campaign can offer, want to do a thing like this?” He says with a faux authoritative tone while digging through a cabinet.

“To find out for myself.” She states as if it’s obvious. “Same reason I talked to you.”

He stops and looks up, then to her. “That’s a good answer. Keep that.” He jabs his finger at her before rising and opening a familiar-looking lunch box on his dresser. “I don’t have any rolled so, gimmie a minute.”

She nods and bites her lip, taking in the cluttered bedroom. There was so much going on it was hard to know where to focus. It reminded her of her older brother's dorm room she’d seen when they visited him at college. Posters, art, and stickers covered the walls, she counted possibly 4 guitars and two big amps in the already small room. “Why so many guitars?” She asks innocently.

“Because I love them.” He answers happily. “You got the ax here. She’s the queen of the place. The acoustic is necessary for variety but also it’s what I learned on. This was my first electric, pawn shop special. She’s solid enough but she’s not the ax.” He beams the entire time he talks., fingers working some magic on the table Mary doesn’t understand.

“They’re all girls?”

“Oh, they are grown women.” He draws out the words and then amused with himself, laughs at his joke. “Yes, they’re ladies.” He adds looking up briefly from rolling the joint on the table.

“Why?”

“Have you ever played guitar Mary?”

“No.”

“And -no offense- I know you’ve not made love to one-“

“A guitar?”

“No! A woman you…” he snorts and runs the joint across his lips. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” He interjects. “I love these guitars. They’ve got curves and you have to touch them just right to get them to do what you want.” He smirks and notices the blush subtle on her cheeks. “But when you do it right. When you’re in the zone and it’s all coming together it’s mind-blowing and feels better than anything else you’ve ever experienced.”

She gulps. “Are we talking about women or guitars now?”

“Both. Actually.” He gives a smile that makes her feel more at ease as he sits next to her on the bed, fingers fussing with the joint.

“Then I’m glad I had that added to my list already.” Her eyes were a bit wide and she stated it in a tone that felt like a joke but she meant it.

“You’ll get there.” He pats her knee. “But tonight we’re crossing this off.” He wiggles the joint in his fingers. “I’m going to introduce you to some real music and we’re gonna smoke and it’s gonna be great. Very chill hang out sesh, kay?”

“That sounds great. “

“Then stop picking your nails and loosen up your shoulders.” He sneers, lighting the joint and taking a drag before handing it to her. “Hold it like I showed you with the cigarette.”

She pinched it and stared it down as if it might attack her. She took a deep breath and looked over to Eddie for support.

“You’ll put it in, like a straw, right? And suck the air through it. Hold it if you can a few seconds then exhale.”

She nods quickly and swallows.

“It’ll be fine. I promise you.” He puts his hand over his heart.

She does as instructed and goes into a coughing fit about 2 seconds into holding it.

“That-a girl!” He praises as she shakily hands him the joint back. “Gotta cough to get off.” He pats her back supportively.

Without words, she asks what the hell he’s talking about with her face.

“It’s a saying. Coughing makes you higher. Makes the lungs take it in more.” He waits for her to wipe the tears that had formed and return her hands to her lap. “You good?”

“Yeah, I think so I don’t really….” She pauses and feels a warmth wash over her.

He watches her shoulders slump and her posture go bad. “Uh-huh you don’t, huh?” he snickers.

“I do.” She answers simply and it causes him to start laughing.

“Ya feeling it?” He teases and takes another drag.

“Uh-huh” she doesn’t nod but he can see the wheels turning in her slowly shifting bloodshot eyes.

“You good?” he follows up again, leaning in to get a good look at her face.

She considers it for a moment.

“Mary? Hello?” He asks, snapping his fingers.

“Sorry yeah, what?” Her aloof expression causes another giggle from him.

“I ask you a question and you were quiet for a few minutes.”

“Oh sorry. Yeah, I’m… my thoughts are going all over the place. What’d you ask again?”

“I asked if you were good.”

“Oh right. Yeah. I am but the whole point was to try to be bad right?”

“I meant are you high but you answered my question with that response.”

“Oh.” She begins to giggle now. “I was getting all… existential on ya.” She titters quietly.

“That’s the best part about smoking man. The conversation. And also that nice relaxed feeling. Do you get it in your chest? Like everything doesn’t suck for once?”

“Yes its… very nice.” She lets out a groan she didn’t know she needed to release.

“I thought you might benefit from it honestly. You’re wound so tight.”

“I know. I don’t wanna be.”

“You won’t always be if you work on it. You can change anything about yourself whenever you want. That’s the wild thing about being human.”

“Hmmph. You really can can’t you?” She sees different versions of herself flashing before her eyes.

“If you don’t give a fuck about what anyone else thinks you can.”

“Man, what's that like?”

“Wouldn’t know.” He shrugs.

“You act like you don’t care about anything.”

“Yeah but like you said. I act.” He offers with a dramatic hand.

“But you do all these things, the music the look, the drugs? Doesn’t that mean you don’t care?”

“I care a lot actually.” He pauses and tilts his head, looking around the room, resting his hands on the bed, leaning back slightly. “Just not about what most other people at Hawkins do.”

“You care about guitars.”

“Yeah. And music. D and D.”

“Dungeons and Dragons.” She states. “That’s your club right?”

“Yep. I love that shit man. You get to go be someone else, be somewhere else. Make up your own rules. That’s the thing with fantasy you don’t have to follow the rules that you do in real life.”

“I think I’d like fantasy.”

“You know what? You’re right. You would.” His eyes light up and he starts looking around the room. She watched him move things intermittently before a worn book is chosen. “I assume you read?”

“I can yeah.”

“I meant in your spare time” he laughs.

“Oh.” She shares the giggle. “Bible study, book club. Homework.”

“I don’t mean the Bible or for school. Do you ever read for fun?” He sounds exasperated for her.

“I… yeah.” He sees her shrink up a little.

“Did I upset you? Was I an asshole just now? I didn’t mean to be.”

“No, I'm just… sensitive. Sorry.”

“I’ll back off.” He holds his arms up in defeat.

“No, don’t. I need to toughen up. I need to share these things with you for you to understand me, be able to help me out.”

“That’s what I wanna hear.” He claps his hands together, still holding the book before sitting back next to her on the bed and facing her this time.

“I’ve been… taking books from the public library and the school's library for a year or two now. I don’t want anyone to know I read them so I can’t check them out.” She turns to face him too. Knees almost touching on the made bed. “I’ve been reading Sweet Valley High books. And there are some YA novels from the 70s that are surprisingly… risqué in the library.”

He didn’t want to patronize her. She was opening up to him. But he was seeing just how sheltered she’d been. She wasn’t allowed to read something as harmless as Sweet Valley High? No wonder she’d come to him for help. She was in a world that he was quickly realizing he couldn’t relate to. This made the tasks at hand that she’d shared with him all the more difficult to play out. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her or pity her. He hated when people did that to him. So instead he begins to look at her as someone fascinating. He wanted to know what her world was like. He loved fantasy and in a way she was stuck in one. Albeit a dystopian one. He was now the light-bringer in her world. The one who lit the way to enlightenment. As an avid fantasy fan and dungeon master, it wasn’t a task he took lightly.

“I remember finding a romance novel in my mom's bedside table. I couldn’t take it and read it but I flipped through it and it was… well there was certainly sex in it.” She grins. “And I thought to myself, if my mother can have something like this and claim to be so… so holy then I can read books with romance in them too. If she isn’t limiting herself like she’s limiting me then that’s not fair. That’s honestly something that started this whole list.”

“It’s called being a Hypocrite.” He says with a judgemental tone he didn’t try to hide. “People who try to control others very rarely follow their own rules. I would bet that if you went and snooped some more you’d find things that you’d never expect them to have.”

He sees it wash over her face, soberer for a moment with flashes of memories where they had indeed been hypocrites. “Do as I say and not as I do.” She mutters.

“Oh yeah. That’s textbook hypocrisy there.” He points his finger at nothing particular but the emotion being it was sure something.

She sighs and moves to see the joint in a makeshift ashtray on the nightstand, now no longer lit. “Can I?” She holds out her hand.

“Yeah, of course.” His voice was soft and so were his hands as he helped her learn to work the lighter and light the joint again. Another coughing fit ensues but it isn’t enough to distract her from how nice it felt for his hands to touch hers. Once she’s gathered herself, now 3 hits in and coughing less each time she continues.

“You have soft hands.”

Its the last thing he expected out of her mouth and his face gave away his surprise. “Thanks. I use lotion on them.”

“Really? I don’t know any guy who does that.”

“It helps with the callouses.”

“Like on toes?” She asks innocently.

“See? When you play guitar it toughens up your hands from the friction of the strings. Learning to play your hands bleed before you build up callouses.”

In her open and vulnerable state, she does what she wouldn’t otherwise have the courage to and takes his hand into hers and studies it. The backs were baby soft but the fingertips were hard. Like tapping on a wall. He lets her look, now thinking how nice it felt to have someone touch his hands too. Her fingertips traced lines in his palm to his fingertips where she inspected the hard pads.

“If I don’t use lotion they get scratchy and well, they don’t feel that great on your skin when you’re trying to touch someone.”

She compares their hand sizes and finds his finger much longer. “The effort doesn’t go unnoticed.”

She spoke like an oracle in one of his stories. He must be higher than he thought because she elaborated after watching his reaction. “Girls talk all the time about how guys don’t take care of themselves. Wishing they’d do stuff like use lotion and wash their faces. They like to bitch about their boyfriends a lot. It’s the majority of what they do. At least around me.” She shrugs. “So anyone getting touched by you notices and appreciates it. I can tell you that.”

“I never understood why people complained about their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives so much. If you don’t like them why are you with them?”

“Right?! She says with relief. “If you’re so miserable, leave! Or shut up about it. Because I don’t care. I think your boyfriend is a prick who tried to get me to sleep with him while you were dating. So anything to inconvenience him I’m down for.”

“That didn’t sound hypothetical.” he showed his concern in his voice.

She looks up to meet his gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t.” Her face read as disappointed but he wasn’t sure at what exactly. “I know what they call me,” she adds quietly. “Unpoppable Cherry.” she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah…” his voice had vocal fry, dragging a bit and not knowing how to comfort her. “I’ve never called you that.”

She boldly holds eye contact with him for a long while, then looked over his face which was the kindest anyone had looked at her since she could remember. “You’re the only one I think.”

“They’ve been pretty awful to you haven’t they?”

She nods and finally looks away.

“Why do you still hang out with them?”

“I don’t know. Habit? The girls I’m on the team with, the guys are their boyfriends. My boyfriend plays basketball so those guys come with the territory.”

“Why ARE you a cheerleader anyway? You aren’t like any of them.”

“I’ve done it since I was a kid. I like it. It’s fun. The actual tumbling and the athletic part of it. Not so much any other part. Not the girls for sure. They’re either mean or ignore me. I don’t know which is worse.”

“I get that. That’s how a lot of people treat me. They’re either angry to my face or they act like I don't exist. I think I prefer the to my face. At least it’s honest.”

Another weak “Yeah.” to add to the growing list. He hadn’t meant to bum her out.

“Well maybe this’ll help you forget it.” he raises the book he’d forgotten about. “Fantasy, right? You don’t have to think about that shit when you’re in it.” he holds the worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring to her. She takes it and studies it. “It’s about the journey this Hobbit takes to… well save everyone. To put it simply. There’s wizards and monsters and all that epic shit. It’s a favorite of mine.”

His enthusiasm as always is infectious.

“Oh! There’s this band, Led Zeppelin, and some of their work is influenced by the books. There are multiple books by the way so when you finish that one, I can give you the others.” he speaks quickly and squats in front of a few stacks of records in a cabinet. There’s a lot of other kick-ass bands that like them too. Megadeth, Sabbath, you ever heard of Pink Floyd?”

She shook her head but didn’t speak, her eyes were no longer sad and he knew he’d succeeded in his distraction of her.

“Then prepare to have your mind blown,” he announces proudly. “This is Led Zeppelin 2, came out in 69. The same year as their debut album named the same…minus the 2.” He handles the record like a baby, light fingers and delicate movements to gently place it on a player connected to a large cassette sound system. “So many iconic riffs on this album.” he turns the needle to ‘Ramble On’ as he grabs his guitar and sits on the bed, head, hand, and foot already bobbing to the tune.

He watched as she got to experience her first taste of what he considered real music. Her pupils dilated, she barely even blinked as she listened. He played along with a short section quick guitar, snatching her attention away from the stereo as goosebumps crossed her arms. She’d never seen hands move so fast. He matched the song exactly in every way and she was completely invested in every movement his fingertips made. “Mordor is a place in the book,” he explained as the lyrics passed. She barely heard him speak, nodding and leaning forward slightly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hands. The song ends and he pops up the needle on the record. He couldn’t help but ask “So… what’d you think.”

‘Holy shit.” she says breathily. He couldn’t have wished for a better reaction.

“Good right?” his brows raise and he excitedly starts hitting switches and finding a certain cassette. “I’ve played this one so much I don’t know if it’ll work, to be honest. I need to get a new one.” he fumbles, a pencil shoved into the cassette wheel to make sure it was tight before snapping it in. “This song…lemme find it…” the stereos blare for a few seconds at a time as he finds the song he’s looking for. “This one… I think you’ll like it. “It’s called Eat Your Heart Out. By Dio.”

“Like your jacket.” she meets his eyes, still in a daze.

“Exactly! You noticed!” he clenched his fists in excitement. “Listen to the lyrics. It’s…well it’s kinda about you.” he drops, sitting back down again with his guitar to mimic the entire song.

This song was heavy. It was fast. It was metal. And her ears tingled as she had to take a deep breath in to steady herself. She’d never heard anything like this before, and now she didn’t want to hear anything else. She thought his fingers might start smoking with the speed they picked up on the guitar. Her heart rate had been raised for many reasons at this moment but hearing someone talk about “Eat Your Heart Out, You’ve been a bad, bad girl…” she flushed red all the way down to her chest. Speaking of being in prison, of breaking free. ‘You’ve been hungry all your life.’ She’d never related to a song more. She mouths the word “Fuck” unheard by Eddie as he was concentrated on nailing the solo. The only thing she was more distracted by than his hands was his mouth. He mouthed every word, only stopping to bite his lip as he concentrated. She felt her mouth dry, not sure if the weed or the sudden feeling of flutters in her stomach and farther down were to blame. She wanted to ask if this is what being turned on felt like. She wouldn’t dare ask that. Yet. From that moment on she would compare all music to the songs, he introduced her to, changing her view of music forever. It wasn’t the only thing that changed that night inside her. Her feelings about Eddie had shifted, and she never looked at him the same way again.

PART 3

Comment & Reblog to let me know you like it and want more!

Tags:

@suspirian @agent007knight @banannie25 @paracetamollvr

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things

[msjr0119]

This Life

The majority of characters belong to Pixelberry from The Royal Romance/Heir.

Series warnings ⚠️: Adult language, sexual.

Based on the Netflix series- Sex/life. Some situations are based on canon.

Tags: Because I’ve been gone MIA in like forever I don’t know who’s here anymore 🙈… so I’m not tagging specific people.

****

School psychologists aren't supposed to write books or diaries about sex. Doing so would be considered 'unethical' and 'a fireable offense'. Lucky for you, ethics was never my strong suit.

****

January 3rd

New year. New start? No. Same shit, different year. It hasn’t always been ‘bad’ though.

There was a time in my life where I was; wild, fun, happy. I was living the time of my life. As if there was no tomorrow. No worries. Anxiety- what anxiety? No sleep. It didn’t matter to me. Caffeine was my best friend as well as Liv. Both getting me through each day. Thinking back to those days- I was vulnerable. The reason why… HIM.

The man who has not been named ‘out loud’ in nearly a decade. However, just recently the memories keep flooding in my mind. I’m not sure why? As much as I try to erase them, they return immediately. Today I spent the afternoon vacantly staring at my child as he caused chaos around me. Typical toddler, some may suggest. My boy- he was…is, a blessing. To begin with, I wasn’t sure if I could be a mother. Half of the time, I’m surprised that I’ve managed to look after myself all of these years. Motherhood- that was never a high priority in my future when I imagined my fairytale life in my adolescence. Honestly, my only goal in life was to achieve my PHD in Psychology. Oh, how that went ‘tits up’.

My husband- he was my saviour five years ago. Most of our close friends and family assumed that Nate was just a rebound. Deep down, I probably believed that too back then. However, he proved everyone wrong- including myself. For the last five years he’s provided for me but for also for Preston. Most people would think that I sound ungrateful for the life that I have. Maybe I am?

The majority would dream for what I have; the wonderful house outside the city. The opportunity to not have to work for now- the life of a typical housewife. The privilege to own nice yet expensive cars due to Nate’s promotion. And not forgetting the support from Preston’s nanny- Ioana. Why isn’t all of this enough for me? I often think…What if, I had never agreed to that coffee date with Nate on our first meeting? Would my life have been any different? Could I have rekindled with the man who made me feel invisible- electrified? The intimacy with him. God, I miss it. I miss him. Back then, I was caught up in the euphoria of the moment. ‘For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and cherish, until parted by death’ I keep reminding myself about the vows that we made- ‘I am happily married’. But, is that true?

“Shit!” Looking at her watch, Riley realised that the day had rapidly disappeared. Nate could be returning home at any point.

“Mommy, you….”

“I know, Preston. I’m sorry I said a naughty word.” Scrutinising the mess surrounding them- Riley deleted all of what she had noted down, before rushing around like a headless chicken in her night wear still. Hearing the door open, she panicked slightly before recognising the familiar face. Phew.

“Excuse me, Miss Riley- but your sister and Mr Liam have just got here. I can take Preston for his bath if you’d like?”

Shit.

“Erm, Ioana- let them in, I’ll quickly run upstairs and make myself decent. Preston, honey- why don’t you show Ioana the train track that we made earlier on? It’s amazing isn’t it?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I don’t know why they are here?!” Ioana provided a soft smile towards Riley as she mouthed this and guested that she would be one minute.

Running back downstairs dodging the washing and stray toys, Riley realised that she had two missed calls and voicemails.

Hey, girl.

Sorry I didn’t return your call earlier on. It’s been a busy crazy day. I’m back in the city- you sounded a bit upset on the voicemail. Meet up, tomorrow? Let me know.

Hello beautiful,

Just to let you know, I’m running slightly behind tonight. Emergency meeting with Katrina and ‘the big boy bosses’. I hopefully won’t be too long. I will grab some food at work- just see to yourself and Preston. Love you.

“Nothing new there, then. Working late again wasn’t expecting that at all- oh silly, me. He’s probably so far up her arse…..”

“Riley.” Lindsey shouted interrupting her sisters negative thoughts regarding her husband and his new boss.

“Hey guys. Sorry about the mess. Erm… it was Nate’s first day back at work and myself and Preston are still in the holiday mood. We still need to get back into the normal routine… anyway…. What are you doing here?” Lindsey and Liam gave each other a look- they both didn’t know how to ‘sweet talk’ the discussion that they needed to have with Riley.

“Well… we haven’t seen you since Christmas. So we thought that we’d pay you a visit.”

“It was less than two weeks ago, we’ve gone months without seeing each other before.”

“Erm…” Lindsey stuttered which encouraged Liam to continue the conversation. “Well we know that Nate is working longer hours now- we know that you have Ioana for company but if you wanted a different change of scenery…. We are here. Always.” Focusing her attention towards her sister instead of Liam - Lindsey provided a sheepish smile towards Riley.

“Linz you’ve always been a rubbish liar. What’s the real reason as to why you’ve spontaneously shown up here?”

“Ioana, are you okay looking after Preston for a couple of extra hours whilst we take Riley to the city? Mommy’s night off. I believe she deserves it?”

“Of course, Mr Liam. That is no problem. I agree, Miss Riley should go and enjoy herself.”

****

New York is a city of diversity and dynamism. As well as a city of politics, economy and culture. Even though I don’t live within the city anymore- this is home. The natural feeling of ‘home’ occurs every time that I enter the city. Each corner has a different story to tell. Mixed emotions. Memories both bad and good that will last a lifetime.

To begin with- Riley kept looking over her shoulder in the bars that the trio had entered. Was there some hope that she could see him? If there was to be an unexpected meeting she wasn’t quite sure on how to react. Due to anxiety and nerves - Riley began to take advantage of the alcohol as well as the child free night. The last known location for the man in question was California. Because of this she began to let her hair loose - something which pleased Lindsey but also worried her at the same time.

“Liv’s flat is literally next door. I’ll just go and surprise her and see if she wants to join us, okay?”

“Okay, we’ll get you both a drink. Gin and tonic?” Liam asked.

“No, make it two JD and cokes. It’s what myself and Liv always had during our… fun… days. Nights. Mornings…. I’ll be two minutes.”

“Liam- JD and coke, minus the JD for Ri.” Lindsey whispered to her husband, as they watched Riley enter the flat safely.

“I think she will need a coffee rather than fizzy pop to attempt to conceal the alcohol consumption from Nate. When Riley returns with or without Liv we are telling her the truth, Linz. Olivia will be the extra support that she may require.”

****

“Surprise!”

“Ri… what are you doing here? I suggested to meet up tomorrow on the voicemail.”

“Yeah I know, but….” Stumbling against the wall, Olivia stepped out quickly shutting the door quietly.

“Are you drunk?”

“No! Maybe. Only, slightly.” Shrugging her shoulders, she knew that Nate would berate her for being in this position. However, she didn’t care for now.

“Anyway Linz and Liam sort of dragged me out to the city- because I can never get out, I thought you could join me- us. Like old times…. But obviously old times were just you and I. It’ll be fun though…. I need to talk to you anyway…. I’ve been having these weird dreams. Memories keep rushing back of me and him….” Before Riley could continue with her word vomit - Olivia prevented her from continuing.

“Now isn’t a good time….I’m still jet-lagged from Paris. Tomorrow would better, honey. For me. I can come to you… or you could come back to the city with Preston. Whichever is easier….”

“Who’s Preston?” Standing frozen as if she had seen a ghost, Riley’s brain began to shrivel and not function properly. “I’m assuming he’s the new lucky man in your life?” Not responding to the questions- Riley couldn’t distinguish reality from fantasy.

“It’s good to see you, Brooks.”

#the royal romance #Riley x drake #riley brooks #drake Walker #Liam Rys #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic #tw swearing #tw mention of sex #theroyalromance #choices trr

[magicalgirlagency]

I know this is magical girl blog, but i wanna ask, what's your opinion on pizza tower game?

You're only asking me this because of the The Noise Update that came out just recently, aren't you? Come on, be honest.

Anyways, I absolutely adore the aesthetics of that game. It's just so absolutely bonkers and it oozes lots and lots of passion. Those five years of hard work were worth it. I haven't played it yet, but once I get myself a potent and faster PC, I'll try it! So, I'll just talk about the aesthetics!

I like how Peppino is a Wario-expy, but not in personality. Sure, he is fat and ugly like that greedy garlic-munching goon, but his personality and life are totally different: He's a stressed middle-aged man, who struggles financially and constantly oscillates in anger or anxiety. Totally the opposite of Wario, who's absolutely confident in his brute strength and will take stuff without any awareness or care of the consequences that'll soon follow.

Also, did you know that "Peppino" is a legit real life name? It's a nickname of "Giuseppe" (an italian version of the name "Joseph"). And the person behind Funiculi, Funiculá (the funny pizza meme music) was named Peppino. Giuseppe "Peppino" Turco.

While the gameplay is obviously inspired by Wario Land 4, its visuals take cues from those Gross Out medias from the 90's/00's (Earthworm Jim, Cow & Chicken, Ren & Stimpy, etc.), which it really helps in the shaping of the game's identity. Not to mention how the game was projected to give major priority to speed mechanics, hence why the reason why it was firstly showcased at Sonic Amateur Games Expo.

Another interesting thing about it, is that this game almost became a Horror game! It almost became a FNaF copycat! But for some reason, Tour de Pizza felt the need to change the concept into a Wario-like midway, BUT! The Horror elements still remained with Don't Make a Sound and Fake Peppino (the game is one year old already; everyone already knows of Fake Peppino by now).

One interesting thing about FP, is back when the game has made its official debut, people made vows of not spoiling his Boss Fight, as TdP would keep him under the shadows in the development vlogging/lives. An addendum: This happened at the same time Hogwarts Legacy came out, and people were spoiling its ending on purpose! Meanwhile the froggy abomination (affectionate) was carefully kept a secret until the time was right.

...even though FP was already spoiled in WAR, but that's just me...

And the MUSIC. Oh my God, the music. It's so divine. Some of them feel severely out of place with the goofy aesthetics of the game, and I wouldn't have it any other way. The use of leitmotifs is clever and adds a lot of charm to the player character. They didn't have to go hard on the Ha Ha Funny Pizza Man Game, but they did it.

Also, the Final Boss has given me the adrenaline rush and catharsis that no modern-era Shounen has managed to do for me. No items, no power-ups, just pure, raw, and italian strength and blood-boiling rage (and the occasional tag-teaming of good ol' Gustavo).

As for The Noise Update, it's still pretty fresh, so I won't spoil anything major about it. However, I'll say that he is different than Peppino in every single way, not just in gameplay. While Peppino functions on Fight-or-Flight mode and is only concerned about getting things done and over with, The Noise does stuff for the shits 'n giggles, and WILL shamelessly gaslight you into getting the highest rank. And also with violence. Lots 'n lots of violence.

Also, The Noise's full name is "Theodore Noise" (yes the "The" in the name is not a definite article, it's short for his birth name). But I guess everyone already knows that, too. Just felt like remembering it, just in case.

[astoldbychae]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

Aww shucks! 🤭 I was tagged by @simsstoryteller. Thanks hun!

Are you named after anyone? Yeah, the two women my pops loved most; my mama & Sade.

When was the last time you cried? Chile…yesterday. And what about it? Lol

Do you have kids? Nah, Auntie life is way too lit.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Listen, a magician NEVER reveals their secrets.

What sports do you play/have you played? See ya’ll got jokes huh? Lol. I learned at an early age (as an very shy introverted lil bean) that athletics was not my ministry. I would literally try-out, make the team, then never show back up! 😩 But shiiiit…me & art been like this 🤞🏽 since forever tho. Creativity is my sport & that’s my business. Lol.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? The way people talk (like how they say words/accents etc). If they ain’t said nothin, then it’s their smile and/or mouth/lips. THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE. Ok? Lol.

Eye colour? Pretty brown eyes *starts singing Mint Condition Breakin my heart*

Scary movies or happy endings? I be wanting the best for people, so I gotta go with happy. That & well…imma chicken, so scary is outta the question. Watched Are You Afraid of The Dark & Goosebumps as a child…and NOPE…nah…never again. Shit the Black Sitcoms Halloween episodes used to fuck me up. Hell even The Simpson Halloween Specials…Still…at this bigs age…My mind is too imaginative for all that. Alright? 😩

Any special talents? Uh…I can do the voices of cartoon characters. And I can whistle really well. 

Where were you born? A very, very cold place…with a lot of lakes.

What are your hobbies? Listening to music, drawing, & watching random tutorials on YouTube about artsy and/or techy things.

Do you have any pets? Nope, not yet. But once I have a backyard big enough all the Dalmatians are miiiiine.

How tall are you? If I tell you then I’d have to…*damn would you look at that…internet just be glitchin’ & shit*

Fave subject in school? Math, Spanish, & Science

Dream job? Fashion Designer

Lemme see…I tag: @percosim @berberriescorner @sheplayswithlifee @sheabuttahwrites ✨

#astoldbychae #we love a good tag challenge

[sophie-i-guess13]

Some Photos By A Dumb Hood

based on this headcanon <3

words : 1381

genre : tooth-rotting fluff, proceed with caution

characters: Curly, Angela, Tim Shepard, Sylvia Jackson-Merrill, Buck Merrill, Ponyboy Curtis, Dallas WInston

Tw : N/A

tag!  - @mjmacchio1991 @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato  @patrickslayze @outsiderslamb @frypansgirl  @unorginalchocolatemilk @jackettslut @johnnycadesjeanjacket @james-fucking-hates-dallas

{honourable mentions: @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me @mysemantics @xosunshiine] Ask to be added / taken off :)

May 23, 1968

Hey, Mr. Syme. Bet you didn’t think I’d make it this far, did you? It’s okay if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be the only one. Since this is the last assignment I’ll ever hand into you (as if I actually did all those other assignments), I felt like doing something a little different. You suprised yet old man, dumb hood like me doing something original for once? You better be. The photos I’m talking about are in the envelope stuck to the back if you felt like looking at them. Sorry in advance for all the cursing and shit, but you’re probably used to that by now. Thanks for not giving up on me. Tim really appreciates it.

                                 Some Photos by A Dumb Hood 

                                                C. Shepard

I. Sleeping Beauty This is Tim. He’s asleep in the living room, The Twilight Zone was playing on the television when I snuck in past curfew. You taught him a few years ago, if you remember him. He didn’t show up a ton in your class, but that’s just because he was taking care of me and my sister like he’s doing right here. Ignore the stains on the sofa, those are from our folks. Tim doesn’t say he worries about us – or at least he doesn’t say he worries about me. I know he does, though. He complains all the time about how uncomfortable the sofa is every time he falls asleep on it, but he’ll sit there all night if he has to, making sure I get home okay. I’ve never been a great kid. I’ve done, and still do, a lot of stupid shit. I know it makes him worry – only twenty-one and he’s already going gray. But you didn’t hear that from me, man, I’d like to keep my teeth.

II. Ain’t Vanity A Sin? Angela’s about as spoiled as a girl on the east side can be. Joys of being the baby sister, I guess. All she’s gotta do is bat those damn lashes, and she’s got half us guys bending over backwards for her. I can’t remember the first time she left the house with all that makeup on, but Tim was just about as white as the sheets he was airing out on the clothesline outside. He had a long talk with her when she came home - about how even if she looks sixteen, seventeen, maybe even eighteen, she sure as hell ain’t old enough to be doing all the things the other girls are. I told her guys are gross when Tim left her room. She said she already knew that, since she lives with two of ‘em. She was having a meltdown tryna get her eyeliner right in this photo. Took it right before she gave up and asked me to draw the other one. I don’t think she’ll ever ask for my help with make-up again after that.

III. Making Friends + Breaking Bones I broke my arm when I was fourteen, this was the telephone pole that did the damage. It didn’t fall on me or anything, I was tryna show off to Ponyboy Curtis and tried to climb it. I’ve broken plenty of bones (not all were mine), but that hurt the worst. Having the wind knocked outta you when you hit the ground? Jesus Christ, that was a whole different kind of pain. I’m damn lucky Pony’s in track, he ran the whole way back to my house and told Tim what happened. We went over to the Curtises afterwards, all so that their momma could tell me it was too broken to be mended at home. I think this is when Tim stopped coming to school; he had to work pretty hard to pay off all those hospital bills. Ponyboy and I got to talking a lot after that, did a few more stupid stunts together. That’s where he got that scar on his hand, actually, we were playing chicken with our cigarettes. He’s heading off to university this fall. I’m proud of him. All us east siders are. You must be, too. It’s your assignment that made him write that essay after all.

IV. The Yankee I got this picture after a Rumble. I meant to get a picture of Ang and Tim playing nurse to the rest of our gang, but there’s someone else in the left corner, on the couch with a bag of frozen peas to his black eye. That’s Dally. You know about him, that one kid that got shot by the cops after Bob Sheldon died. Tim would die before he ever called Dally a friend, and I’m sure Winston felt the same. I did like him though, and wanted him to like me too. Came all the way from New York, with nothing but a jacket, switchblade, ring and necklace. I tried taking it once, he almost beat me to death in my own front yard. I’m sure Dallas would've killed me if it weren’t for Tim getting between us and calling me a stupid kid who got dropped too many times to know any better. We fought a lot, though nothing ever got as physical as that first one. I don’t think he hated me, even if he said he did. Hell, he’s saved my ass more times than I can count. It’s been three years already, and it still feels weird knowing I’ll never wake up to him on the couch again.

V. Good Morning To You, Too This is Sylvia, Tim’s best friend and Dally’s ex-girlfriend. Before you ask, yes, they’ve gotten into plenty fights over her. She and Angela share a room the nights she comes over. To be honest, I think she’s spent more nights at my place than she has her own. She was screaming like a banshee after I took this, even chased me down the stairs. She’d gone out with some friends the night before, and it was obvious because of the makeup caked under her eyes and how messy her hair was. She lives with us now, her and her daughter, Loretta. After graduation she was seeing this guy, even got an apartment with him. It didn’t last very long though, once he started taking her money and never paying her back. Tim went over one night after she bailed him out and told her the house was always open if she needed it. It’s a little cramped now, but I don’t mind. I got my own room now, Tim took our parents’, and the girls all share since Lori’s crib doesn’t take up much space.

VI. Us East Siders This is the whole clan- Sylvia’s cousin, Buck Merrill, included. The first nice day of May felt like something to celebrate, so we spent the day outside. Tim and me did some handiwork on the house, like cleaning out the gutters and fixing some shingles while Ang and Syl painted their nails and got a head start on their tans. Buck even brought over a shitty little paddling pool for Lori, borrowed the neighbor’s hose to fill it up for her. We all really love that kid. I got this picture once the sun was beginning to set and we were getting ready to call it a night. Saturday nights always mean dinner at the Dingo, after all. You’ve taught just about every kid in this picture, haven’t you, Syme? Bet they must look mighty different. Tim didn’t have that scar, and Syl didn’t have a baby on her lap. I don’t think Angela had her hair cut short, either. But that’s us, I guess, Buck and Tim in the back, wiping sweat off their faces, the girls sitting on the first step. I’ve got plenty of photos of them, but this has gotta be my favorite. Probably because they’re all smiling.

That’s it, huh? The big final English assignment of my senior year. Thanks for being a decent teacher, Syme, I know I didn’t make it easy for you. I’ll see you around, though. You’ll probably be teaching Angela next year (good fucking luck man, you’ll need it), and I know I’m not headed off to college come September. I’m a dumb hood, remember? One that can take some decent fucking pictures, though.

#soapie’s stuff #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders #curly shepard #tim shepard #angela shepard #buck merrill #sylvia (the outsiders) #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston

[sunnysssol]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by three different people AHWJFIDJ @gremlins-hotel , @fumblingmusings and @modernday-jay !!! Thank you guys for the tag! 💖 Sorry it took me a while to get to it 😭 depression on top of hell week is a different kind of beast. Anyway! Onwards!!

What book are you currently reading?

☆ I haven't read much books at all this year, but I really wanna pick up Dune again! I got halfway through Dune Messiah in 2020 and it's been forever 😭 My reading list is ever expanding, I just really need to find time and motivation 🥲

What’s your favorite movie that you saw in theatres this year?

☆ I have not gone to the theaters at all this year! I've been out and about but yeah. All the movies I watched this year were watched from the comfort of my own bedroom. But as for my favorite movie this year, it's either "Pearl" by Ti West or "Everything, Everywhere, All At Once" by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert. I liked Pearl better than X just because... Idk, I think I was more disturbed by the emotional drama than the actual story LOL and as for EEAAO, that one is a classic I feel like I've seen at least five mutuals rave about it JDJCJ and it's well deserved! I wanted to watch it with family but I kept chickening out– it hits a little too close to home I think 🥲 then there's Incantation too, that movie had some really unsettling imagery and I got really invested into the story of the main character trying her absolute hardest to save her daughter against the powers of a hostile otherworldly being. It's really neat!

What do you usually wear?

☆ I live in a tropical country, so it's the shirt-shorts-flip flops combo usually LOL although once in a while I'll switch it up and wear pajama pants :p

How tall are you?

☆ I'm 5'3", or 160 cm !!!

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

☆ Cancer! Not sure about any celebrities, but I do share my birthday with the debut of the Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit in 1989 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I thought that was cool LOL

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

☆ I go by Sol, which is more of a pseudonym than a nickname. But I also use Marie, which *is* a shorter version of my real name and also, I have used "Peppa" very recently because my profile pictures when I was in the middle of my "join as many discord servers as possible" phase was Peppa Pig and it stuck 😭

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

☆ Not yet, but i'm getting there! Getting that education and whatnot 🤓

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

☆ I am deeply in love with one Alfred F. Jones ☝

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

☆ I'm good at everything but also bad at everything 💖 I hope that helps!

Dogs or cats?

☆ I can't choose 😭 they are both so important to me actually

What’s something you would like to create content for?

☆ (VIBRATES WITH BARELY CONTAINED EXCITEMENT AND CREATES A LOW HUMMING SOUND) uh yknow. stuff

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

☆ The Walking Dead!!! But also, perhaps cartoons because I've been watching Adventure Time and Bluey 🗿

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

☆ Not to be a downer but this year as a whole sucked LOL some significant highlights in the lows of course (e.g. meeting my besties, getting back into an old beloved fandom, etc), but I just really thought things would be different by now. Guess not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

☆ All talents are hidden if you're anxious enough 😏 (it's lying. for some reason people always believe me 😭 I only use it for stupid shit too so HEJFJD)

Are you religious?

☆ Religion interests me, if not for the historical and cultural impact then maybe for the art that is created because of it! My religious background is Roman Catholicism, born and raised and all that, but my family stopped going to church a while back and we haven't gone back since unless it was for a wedding or a baptism. Do I believe in the Christian God? Not really... I do believe there is a higher power out there, if that makes sense. I just don't subscribe to the ideas of any religion. I guess this makes me agnostic.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

☆ 600 million dollars in my bank account 💅

Tagging @myrddin-wylt , @daisy-dumpling , @majormeilani , @j0succ and whoever else wants to do it!! 💖 and if I tagged you there's no pressure to do this !! Jdjfjfjf 💖💖💖

#sol's musings

[ghostoffuturespast]

Get to Know the Blogger

Tagged by @morganlefaye79 Thanks so much!

Share your wallpaper:

Desktop. This screenshot that I took that I love.

Last song you listened to: A synthwave song that I've been listening to on repeat called Ghost by 3force. Sometimes I'll listen to the same song 500 times in a row. Last album I listened to was Room On Fire by The Strokes.

Currently reading: Haaaaaaaa... I haven't had the chance to dive into reading in months, whether it's fics, books, or otherwise. Been way too busy writing and haven't been able to commit myself to reading anything long. After I finish part I of my fic though, I'm definitely taking a break to read all the things.

Last movie: John Wick 4 & Glass Onion. Both very good.

Last show: Locke & Key, The Last of Us

Craving: Coffee and something savory for breakfast. I haven't eaten yet. (Or ramen. I can always eat ramen.)

What are you wearing right now: My pajamas, an old t-shirt and lounge shorts.

How tall are you: 5' 7"

Piercings: Three, all on my ears

Tattoos: Nope, too much of a chicken shit.

Glasses? Contacts? Glasses while I'm driving at night, because I'm getting old.

Last drink: Water

Last thing you ate: Popcorn

Favorite color: Orange

Current obsession: Cyberpunk 2077, bones, symbolism in media, and birds.

Any pets: Does 12 houseplants count?

Favorite fictional character: First of all, that's mean making anyone pick favorites, so here's some in no particular order. River Ward - CP 2077 (of course), Saitou Hajime - Rurouni Kenshin, Arthur Morgan - RDR2, Phillip Marlowe, Alucard - Hellsing, Delilah Bard-Darker Shade of Magic, Terry McGinnis - Batman Beyond, Olivier Armstrong - Fullmetal Alchemist. (I've got eclectic taste and a thing for detective characters.)

The last place you traveled: Maine and Quebec

I'm not gonna tag anyone , but if you're reading this feel free to do it if you like! I'd love to get to know peeps a bit better.

#tag you're it

[dmagedgoods]

OC Mannerism - Rowley

picrew Aaand I got tagged by @undyingembers. Thank you so much! 🥰 Adding Rowley for the last round. Who wasn't tagged, who didn't do it yet? Go for it, this is your call! You find the amazing template by @the-raging-tempest here.

- NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES >> In most universes, 2 fluently. He might decide to learn a third one but only with a strong reason to do so. - TONE OF VOICE >> high / average / deep (A tenor with a slight raspy sound to it, neither especially deep nor especially high but he hits higher tones well when he’s singing.) - ACCENT >> none or at least none that’s clearly placeable. - DEMEANOR >> confident / shameless / shy / approachable if you dare to / hostile but in a teasing way / mocking / ironic / bold and courageous / insolent - POSTURE >> often slumped in his spare time / straight when on a mission and his actual body control shows / stiff/ relaxed HABITS head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / sometimes stands close / sometimes stands at a distance COMPLEXITY (Fill in the circle’s as you wish) - VOCABULARY >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️ Rowley doesn’t speak in lofty and sophisticated terms or only ironically, but he is witty, expressive and creative, with his vocabulary too, and has a very dark sense of humor. Usually, he finds the right words fast, and with the right words I mean the most terrible thing to say in any situation he’s in. He drives of people’s reactions to it. It amuses him and he shamelessly provokes. He may have saved someone’s life a second before, you can be sure he’ll make them forget about it right away by offending them in unexpected ways or by painting himself in the most horrible light and worse than he actually is. - EMOTION >> ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ Haha, no. Usually, he doesn’t show emotions when he speaks. It’s mocking or teasing or factual or just some idle chatting. With him, it needs a certain level of friendship or other forms of closeness (like romantic relationships) to reach a point where he starts to let you see his feelings with words and in general. Once it happens, his way of talking becomes softer, even a touch warmer, and he provides insights that make you realize he listens and observes much more closely than one might suspect. - SENTENCE STRUCTURE >> ⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪ You’ll understand what he’s saying. He’ll make sure of it. ❤ PROFANITY - FREQUENCY >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ All the damn time. Sometimes with a hint of irony to it, sometimes to insult or provoke, sometimes just a few swear words on the way when something goes wrong or casually interwoven in his speech patterns. - CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity insults) >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ Very creative, he will make up new things on the spot, never heard combinations and unique creations, funny in his better moments, utter nonsense in his worst. BOLD THAT APPLY

arse / ass / asshole / bastard / bitch / bloody / bugger / bollocks / chicken shit / crap / cunt / dick / frick / fuck / horseshit / motherfucker / piss / prick / pussy / screw / shit / shitass / son of a bitch / twat / wanker / damn / hell THIS OR THAT

straightforward or and cryptic, yes he manages both at the same time / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind / masculinity, neutrality, or femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness / praise or and equivocation / frankness or flattery / excessive or minimal hand gestures / name-calling or magnanimity / friendly or blunt IMPORTANT QUESTIONS - DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? almost always / frequently / rarely / never - DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS?

almost always / frequently/ sometimes (usually it’s the other person being so annoyed with him they stop talking to him) / rarely / never - WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes/ no / only ironically - YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? but / though / although / however/ perhaps / maybe - HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? 

By annoying the shit out of the other person and finding out how long he can do it until they flee. Sometimes, if someone keeps on rambling about something he’s not interested in, he just mockingly interrupts them and tells them he has to leave. - WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? upper/ middle / lower - IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? accent  / vocabulary / tone / level / lack of politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t Anything that wasn’t touched on?

He can sing and quite well even!

#oc: rowley #my ocs #character mannerism #tag games #pwotr pals