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targaryen-dynasty · 1 month

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SHADOWS PLAY ON IDLE HANDS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x (ex-)wife!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; oral (fem receiving), p in v, missionary position, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, tiddy sucking, making up sex, angst (?)

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Based on this request. Thank you so much, @multyfangirl! 🥰 This is not beta read!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Was it silly of you to think that they’d assign a cabin to all the female supervisors to share back when you signed up to supervise your daughter’s summer camp? Most definitely, because otherwise you wouldn’t be sharing it with your ex-husband right now.

Technically, he’s your soon-to-be ex-husband, considering the divorce hasn’t yet been finalized, but still, he’s the last person you want to share a cabin with.

It’s night four, and you two haven’t done much talking up until now. With it being a summer camp for children in the kindergarten age, your days are quite busy which allows you to stay away from him as much as possible.

Unless it’s time for you to go to sleep.

Walking through the cabin, you go to fetch your pajamas, ready to retire for the night. Aemond lies in his bed, a book in his hand. So far, he’s pretending to not hear you to not acknowledge you, and you’re kind of grateful for it, because it means you don’t have to watch your every move around him.

Although you’ve been together and married for quite a few years, it does feel like you’re living around a stranger ever since you both came to the conclusion to separate five months ago, him moving out of the house quite early probably playing a big part in it.

The divorce certainly would settle sooner, if it wasn’t for your daughter, and you both don’t want to make it more traumatizing for her like it already is.

His voice is somewhat soft when it cuts through the silence, speaking your name and making you flinch and stop on your way to a little nook to get changed in private.

You can’t deny the warmth that spreads through your body at the sound of it. “Mh?” you raise your brow, looking at him from over your shoulder.

Despite his lingering eye secretly watching you, he turns his gaze back to the book in his hand. “I need to ask you a question,” he says almost nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice quieter so as to not disturb the silence that surrounds you.

The mixed signals make you frown, and you shrug your shoulders before disappearing in the little nook. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you state rather matter-of-factly than asking. There comes no reply from him, obviously waiting until you're back in view.

As you emerge from the cranny, you’re dressed in one of his older band shirts that reach your mid-thighs, covering the short, pink shorts you wear. You still sleep in his clothes, despite you separating quite a few months ago, a habit you had picked up pretty early into your relationship. The memories you connect with his old t-shirts always manage to lift up your spirits, remembering the good old days.

It’s obvious he tries to keep himself occupied with the book, the slight struggle always drawing his eye back towards you. There’s some nostalgia seeing you dressed in his old stuff as well as the shorts only you can get away with wearing.

Heat spreads on your cheeks as you walk towards your bed, slipping under the covers so his eye would finally stop devouring you. You’re not one to start arguments, especially with the summer camp having barely started, but you know there are some unresolved issues between you two that he’s dying to talk about. “Your question, Aemond?”

And then he finally closes his book, placing it on the nightstand table next to his bed to focus all of his attention on you. A shiver runs down your spine at that, and you subconsciously straighten your back.

“Do you miss me?”

The question surprises you as you don’t expect your ex-husband to ask you such an open question. You’re used to him being a bit more closed off and dismissive when it comes to your relationship, but on the other hand he was never one to beat about the bush.

You’re left speechless for a moment, until you find the courage to answer in all honesty. “Yes, I do.” There’s no denying it. Not when you’re still wearing his clothes to bed.

What you don’t expect is the simple “hm” that rumbles in his throat, clearly pleased at your hesitance, before he moves to turn away from you.

Pressing your lips into a thin line at his reaction, you rub your hands against each other. Taking in a deep breath, you sit up straighter. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? If anything, our marriage failed because of us, not because of one person alone.”

With the light of the moon shining through the windows of your cabin, highlighting the outline of Aemond, you can spot his body tense slightly at your words, but he does not turn around to face you again.

He doesn’t speak as he takes in a breath, lying there motionless. The silence seems to stretch on for some time until it’s broken by him. “So, you don’t blame me?”

The urge to scoff at his words is hard to resist, but you manage, wanting to keep the air surrounding you as vulnerable and soft as it is right now. You shake your head, despite him not seeing it at all. “Of course not, Aemond,” you say. “Your father’s death hit us both quite hard, and with the winter fever depression on both sides we just couldn’t support each other through that period of time, I think. Maybe if we would have figured something needed to change, we wouldn’t have called it quits.”

Aemond is quickly reminded of how comfortable he’s always felt around you when you were younger and still together. He has expected that you would simply grow to despise one another completely, and not that you would take the matter into an empathic approach.

“I should have been more attentive to you,” he says as he remains facing away from you.

You’re pleasantly surprised about his answer, despite how short it is. The conversation you two are having heads down a more personal route, and it’s something you’re rather enjoying. You’re impressed by the new sense of maturity that he seems to have acquired ever since you parted ways.

“Bullshit. We should have been more attentive to each other,” you retort, your tone as empathetic as you can make it without seeming over-soft.

“That’s true,” he says. He finally turns around, his eye finding yours. “We weren’t good for each other, were we?”

“And that’s not true,” you counter. “We had our flaws, yes, but if we hadn't been good for each other, our little girl wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. She’s amazing, and that’s to our credit.”

It’s a wonder to the both of you how your daughter turned out so well in spite of all the chaos that goes on between you and your divorce, and truly shows that you two must have done something right in your relationship.

You sigh, thinking back to fond memories that make you chuckle. “Oh God, I was so cross with you during the birth. The audacity of you holding my hand and asking if I'm okay while I screamed and moaned for my life.”

The story makes him laugh. “Fuck, that was an experience. I’ll never forget you screaming ‘Do you THINK I’m okay?’ as you really squeezed the life out of me. I don’t know who was in more pain at that moment.”

Only with his narrative of the moment do you notice how amusing the memory truly is, painting the perfect picture of a couple in love in the midst of chaos.

“You scared the wits out of me,” he adds, chuckling.

Bending your legs at the knees, you make yourself more comfortable, not yet ready to fall asleep. Aemond watches you as you lick your lips. "To be fair, I really thought I’d go through it all alone, because you looked like you were going to faint when they gave me the epidural.”

You recall the sheer terror that was written all over his face as he watched you give birth to your daughter. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“To this day, I don’t think that I have ever known so many feelings at once as I did when I saw you give birth,” he says, letting his gaze wander off to the side for a moment. “But I’ve pulled myself together, because you know I would have never lived that moment down. You would have made a whole show of it.”

“Oh, most definitely. It would have been my go-to story for so many family gatherings, because no one would believe me you’d faint. Aegon? Maybe, but you? Never,” you scoff.

Aemond lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I was a real wuss during that moment. Perhaps you should have taken out your phone after the birth to record my reaction.”

You raise your brow, shooting him a glare. “That would have been an idea, because then we’d at least have some first photos of her during the check-up that don’t have me in the background naked, sweating and delivering the placenta.”

He smirks at the glare, not minding as it’s actually quite amusing to see you angry at him again for something not too serious. “That would have been a memory to remember. You, all sweaty after giving birth, and then there’s me, unconscious from seeing you give birth.”

The image makes you chuckle. “To be fair, we were quite young when that happened.”

“Too young, but we’ve worked out well enough in dealing with it, haven't we?”

You find yourself nodding in response to his words of confirmation. “Yes, in spite of all the hardships that surrounded us, we have managed quite well with her. We’ve been the best parents that we both have been able to be… together or not.” There’s a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “How’s Vhagar faring with it? Meraxes does miss her sometimes.”

Aemond smiles fondly as he hears your words, more so that you inquire of his precious girl. “She misses him dearly,” he says, but he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to your words than just the wellbeing of your dogs. He smiles softly, and turns his head to look at you. “Just like I miss you.”

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with his confession, and you can’t keep your gazes locked. It’s all too much and not enough at once. And when Aemond lifts his blanket, gesturing for you to crawl over to him, you know he feels the same.

“This bed is big enough for two,” he whispers.

You’ve been rather stunned at the invitation, yet, you accept it without hesitation. Climbing out of your bed and into his feels all too natural for you, and his body next to yours is a feeling you’ve come to know quite well in your past but has been missing for some time. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but there’s no discomfort or tension between you.

Keeping a fair distance from him isn’t something you master, failing the moment his scent fills your nostrils and urges you to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Snuggling up against him, you’re sure to never leave the bed the moment his arms wrap around you.

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent he’s clearly missed just as much as you missed his. The way you feel with your head resting against his jaw makes it hard for him to suppress the urge to pull you even closer to him for fear of pushing you away.

It’s just both of your breathing filling the otherwise silent room, broken as he speaks. “I missed this.”

It certainly was dangerous to get so close to him, apparent in your half-lidded eyes as you pulled back to look at him. Your gaze flickers between his and his lips, your faces but mere inches apart. “I missed this, too.”

Encouraged by your words, Aemond brings his hand to your cheek, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone, his own breathing becoming heavy as he watches you.

The way you look back at him nearly causes him to lose the last bit of control he clings to as he desires you with a fire he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When his other hand comes to the back of your head and he leans in, you lick your lips which is more than enough to send him over the edge.

His hand begins to slide down your back as his thumb traces your bottom lip, heat following in its wake. And then he dips his head forward enough to capture your lips, melting against each other.

Coaxed by his hand slipping beneath the oversized t-shirt you wear, you grip the collar of his t-shirt and pull him closer to you, not daring to break the kiss. His hands are impatient to tug on the flimsy shorts you wear, and you shimmy your way out of them as he pulls them down your legs.

Your heavy breath fans over his kiss-swollen lips as you pull back from him to speak. Aemond doesn’t wait to hear your words, diving in to press his lips to your jaw and neck. “We… We should not… the divorce…” you trail off, panting heavily and suddenly well aware of how tightly you’re pressed against him.

Bringing his hands to your belly, the hem of your shirt is riled up and pooling around your waist. “It doesn’t matter,” he rasps against your skin. “Just this one night…”

You nod, letting out a soft moan as he cups your breast. “One little night of bliss…” you mewl.

It’s clear that the proximity to him gets you just as hot as he is, no longer trying to resist and giving into the feeling you’ve been fighting back for so long. There’s no resistance left in you, clearly forgetting all the bad things that have happened before. You don’t know what will happen between you two tomorrow morning or the day after that, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it at this moment.

With your hands still fisting his shirt, you pull his body between your legs, the weight of his tall frame heavy on top of you now. He ruts against you as your lips meet again, moving roughly against yours as his hard cock strains against the boxer briefs he wears. You instinctively grind against him, desperate for any kind of friction against your needy pussy.

The kiss is hardly broken as you pull the shirt over his head, exposing his alabaster skin and well toned torso, only for you to not admire it as he starts to nibble on your bottom lip.

You trace your fingers across his torso, trailing lower until they hook beneath the waistband of his briefs. “I need you,” you whine, tugging at the elastic to encourage him to slip out of it. But Aemond merely tsks at that.

“Easy there,” he drawls, mimicking your gesture with his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He shifts to the side and pulls them down your legs, prompting you to shimmy your way out of them to help him.

The blankets have long found their way down the bed, laying in a pile right next to it, and therefore you gasp when the cold air hits your soaked core.

Aemond gets back between your legs again, scooting back and crouching down to kiss his way up your inner thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The moan you release brings heat to your cheeks, more so when his tongue makes contact with your cunt and coaxes another one to slip past your lips.

“You’re drenched,” he remarks smugly, dark blown eye gazing up at you from between your legs.

Rolling your eyes at that, you entangle a hand into his hair and push his face down between your legs. “Don’t be such a tease now.”

Clearly not minding this bossy side at all, Aemond gets straight to the point. His lips wrap around your little bundle of nerves, and one suck of him already has you arching your back and rolling your hips like a bitch in heat. He alternates between gentle sucking and tracing it with his tongue, driving you insane

Less than half a year apart and you’ve already forgotten just how good he is at putting his mouth to work.

Two of his fingers slowly ease inside of you, expertly brushing your sweet spot in a come hither motion that has you tightly locking your legs around his head, not caring if it would crush or suffocate him. With one hand still in his hair, you tug on it not-so-gently which has Aemond groaning against your folds.

The knot in your belly tightens all too quickly with the pace he sets up, lapping and sucking at your clit in tandem with his fingers scissoring in and out of you. But it doesn’t seem like that’s what Aemond wants. Being able to read all the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he stops his ministrations without missing a beat.

You’re baffled, the pleasure disappearing at once. When you look down at him, you spot his chin, lips and cheeks coated in your arousal, glistening in the dim light the moon casts through the windows. “W-What?” you whimper with a pout, trying to force his head back down again. But Aemond is stronger, making it clear he’s just played with you before.

Watching him lick the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips, you can’t help but moan, liquid fire coursing through your veins and making your longing for him even more apparent.

“You don’t think I’m going to savor your first orgasm with my tongue, do you?” he asks matter-of-factly, peeling your legs off of him and sitting back on his haunches.

The breath hitches in your throat not only at his words, but also at the tip of his cock peeking from beneath the waistband of his briefs. He’s rock hard and aching, wanting to be buried inside of you.

“Five months I had to live without this sweet pussy of yours, and I won’t spend any longer not being buried inside of it.”

Staring at his throbbing cock, you bite your bottom lip and nod almost in a sheepish manner. You pulling the shirt over your head and spreading your legs is all it takes for Aemond to rid himself of his briefs, one hand curling around his shaft as the other grabs you by your hip, pulling you towards him.

He drags the bulbous tip of his cock through your drenched folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, your arousal making it easy for his thick cock to breach your tightness with little resistance.

The feeling of your pussy desperately sucking him inside until he’s buried to the hilt is a feeling of indescribable bliss that has you releasing a shaky breath in unison. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage, holding onto him as he towers over you, tall frame completely shielding your significantly smaller one.

“Gods, I… forgot how big you are,” you breathe, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes.

He brings a hand to your waist, and places the other next to your head, keeping himself supported as he begins to grind his hips against yours. “Hm, fuck, we’ll get you used to it again tonight, princess,” he rasps, heavy panting audible in between the words. The pet name makes you clench around him. Oh, how your body has longed for him.

You unravel beneath Aemond, arching your back and tipping your head back into the cheap pillows, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not come on spot.

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the headboard. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and down the side of your neck. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him and rolling your hips.

“Fuck, missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against your skin, drunk on your pussy. “All mine… won’t let you leave again.”

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand entangling into his silken, silver strands. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his chest.

“Don’t want to,” you reply.

Whimpering and whining beneath him, Aemond’s heavy grunts and groans fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on even more. There’s no rush to his movements, the both of you clearly savoring the moment of peace and making up for all the time you’ve lost, and yet it’s enough to build the pressure within your belly again.

The sparse, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive clit with the ruts of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are gentle but determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot, and he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling the cabin.

His thumb presses into your cheek to turn your face towards him, and you’re eagerly welcomed by his lips, capturing yours in a fervent and heated kiss. His lips move sensually against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and alternating with his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

As he withdraws his lips from yours, a dark blown eye watching your blissed out expression, you try to chase them for yet another kiss, but he keeps your head in place. His lips are puckered slightly, and the thought of what’s to come makes your insides churn in a good way, becoming limp in your reverie.

“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do as he says.

Parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As the warm puddle of his saliva hits it, you’re all too eager to swallow it down, moaning softly as the taste of him spreads on your tongue.

“You’re gonna come for me now?” he drawls, pressing his chest against yours and dipping his head forwards to capture your earlobe between his teeth. It’s a grazing touch, but still has goosebumps prickling on your skin.

The coil inside of you tightens quickly with all sensations hitting you at once and the deep desire to please him, and you’re once again surprised by how well Aemond knows your body, strumming it like a fiddle and always getting what he wants.

You convulse all over him with a whine, your hips grinding against his as the white, hot pleasure courses through your veins. But his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the sensual intensity to the point you’re losing your mind.

“That’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “Fuck, missed the pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock, hm.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your clit, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your orgasm, but you feel yourself keening at his words.

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of overstimulation, until his own orgasm washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls.

Aemond fucks you both through the aftershocks, a white ring of your mixed juices forming around the base of his thick shaft. But as his jaw slackens and he moves to pull out of you, you’re quick to lock your legs around his hips and flip him onto his back, giving neither of you time to get to grips with the events that transpire between you.

The quizzical look he flashes you as you sit astride him encourages you to roll your hips against his, riding him through the overstimulation. “Maybe… maybe it would be a good idea to see someone about this,” you breathe, grabbing his hands and planting them at your waist. “A couple therapist perhaps, so we can talk through some of the issues that have come up between us, to resolve the root of all our issues…”

He sits up straight, snaking one arm around your waist to keep your body against his as his mouth finds your hard nipple, suckling and nibbling on it. The other hand fondles and gropes at your breast, squeezing it rather roughly. “Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea,” he groans against your skin, licking a flat stripe along the curve of your breast. “We…” his voice catches in this throat with you starting to ride him more fervently. “We should do that, yes.”

Neither of you is certain if the other’s words are genuine or just spoken in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though you’re seeing eye to eye in this moment. Something your relationship has been missing for a very long time. For the remainder of the night, you both seek to get what you still crave from each other, sharing countless orgasms and an unusually passionate embrace.

However, as the night comes to an end with the light of the next day breaking through the windows of the cabin, and you wake up in Aemond’s arms, you figure that there was truth to your words and that you both strive to save and improve your marriage again.

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paluding · 4 months

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Owned Restaurant Profit Increase

Two versions to download:

-Double profit: SFS / GD

-Triple profit: SFS / GD

Choose only one version!

We all know how hard it is to maintain a restaurant business in The Sims 2, right? You barely make any money and, if you have some employees to get paid hourly, there's a good chance you'll even end up losing money. Well, once again I've been digging through the files for a while until I've found something to fix this issue. I have to say, this is not the ideal solution at all, but it still makes the business actually profitable, so I thought it might be worth sharing anyways. This tiny mod edits just one single BCON value, and it's super easy to tune to your liking! A lot of technical details, a tutorial on how to tune it, and a big testing research under the cut (bear with me please, I promise it's worth reading).

So the way an unmodded game moves money in a restaurant business goes like this: the moment your waiter puts the dish on the customer table, you get a small percentage of the price of the food deducted. Then, once the customer finishes eating, they pay you the full price of that food (based on how expensive or cheap you set your business). Simple enough, right? Ideally, the best solution would be increasing the price of the food, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't find those values anywhere. So what's left on the equation? Yup, that small percentage you get deducted first. I was lucky enough to find that one, so changing it to a negative value means you actually get extra paid first. And that money comes from nowhere, the customer doesn't pay extra, they only pay the price of the actual food. That works for me!

As a quick example, in a new business with 0 stars, if you keep the default price on average, you always gain 28 simoleons for serving a bowl of Mac N Cheese. However, you also get deducted 4 simoleons first, so it's actually 24 simoleons per customer. That's just sad. The Double version of my mod makes it so you get 22 simoleons first, and then the customer pays those 28 simoleons. That's a total of 50 simoleons per customer. More than double the profit, not bad! The Triple version gives you a total of 71, pretty self explanatory. The numbers don’t match exactly with double or triple profits, but I didn’t want to spend that much time finding the exact value to make it exactly double or triple, you know, especially considering there might be other factors that affect your business income. I’m not that good at maths to be honest... orz

So how do you tune this? All you need is SimPe. Open the package, click on the BCON file and edit line number 14, on the Dec box. The default Maxis value was 20. I changed it to -100 to get roughly double the profit, and -200 to get triple profit. If you want to increase the profit even more, make sure you keep it negative when changing the value! Then just click Commit and Save. Done!

One extra note before I continue. The extra money you get with the mod does count for the balance you see on the UI menu for the business on the top right. So if you like to keep track of your income, the mod will take effect on those bars. However, it won’t count for things like the First Simoleon prize thingy. So for now I’m not really sure if this extra money would count for other things such as Lifetime Wants related to gaining money. I haven’t tested it that much.

Okay, now you know almost everything you need to know about this mod. If you want to read some ramblings on how I tested this, keep reading. Otherwise, you’re good to go!

So, let’s talk testing, because that’s something I actually enjoy doing. I built a simple restaurant lot, with about 5 tables available. The conditions were:

-3 Sims from my household to work as host, waiter and chef. No external employees, so I don’t need to keep track of extra salaries to pay.

-Schedule is roughly 15:00 - 22:00.

-New business level 0. Prices were kept at the default average.

-I didn’t use the Basic Sell interaction. If the customer didn’t want to eat at my restaurant, then so be it.

-The chef had 10 points of cooking skill, so I could add any food to the menu. However, I only chose one food to cook to keep the profit numbers as consistent as possible.

For the first case, I chose cooking only Mac N Cheese, a very cheap food that makes almost no money at all. It doesn’t require any cooking skill points. Mac N Cheese gives you 28 simoleons when the Sim pays. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 4 simoleons, so it’s 24 simoleons per customer. After running the business for the set schedule, I got 240 simoleons of profit. Pretty disappointing! If I had employees to pay, I would only have a few simoleons to spare, if any at all. -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 22 simoleons, making a total of 50 simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 400 simoleons. Not much, but hey, it’s something.

For the second case, I chose Filet Mignon. This food is pretty fancy, and it requires max cooking skill. Filet Mignon gives you 83 simoleons when the Sim pays. I also noticed the customers take way less time to eat it compared to the Mac N Cheese, so that’s an extra bonus to make the business run faster. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 13, so it’s 70 simoleons per customer. After running the business, I got 630 simoleons of profit. Not bad, but considering you need to max out the cooking skill, it’s almost insulting spending so many hours just to get that… -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 65 simoleons, making a total of 148 (!) simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 1036 simoleons. Okay, nooow we’re talking! That's the fancy restaurant status I like to see.

You might be wondering why these numbers are so inconsistent. Well, sometimes my lovely waiter decided to drop the tray on the customers, poor guy. That added to the randomness of how customers decide to enter the restaurant or not, and if the game sits more than one customer on the table or just one of them, if someone gets stuck for a while losing time… all of that can end up making the results a bit inconsistent. That being said, I had better luck when I was running the business without the mod in, yet I still got quite a lot more money with the mod in. I didn’t keep track of the numbers for the Triple version, but as you can probably guess, that one would be even more profitable.

One last case I wanted to test and compare: a completely different type of business, a games and entertainment one using the Bandatron ticket machine. In that scenario, I got 21 simoleons per customer, each hour. So after that schedule of 15:00 - 22:00, I got a total of 789 simoleons! All my sim did during those hours was bartending. That shows how easy it is to run a business with a ticket machine, and the biggest advantage is that you don’t have to pay employees if you don’t need them, and you don’t need any skills at all. Just plop down that machine, put some objects, relax and let the money flow by itself.

So yeah, in conclusion, Eaxis really messed up programming the restaurant businesses, there’s no doubt about it. Hopefully my mod helps balance things out. And if you think it's still too low on the incomes department, you can always tune it to your liking! As far as I know, this should not conflict with anything, but if you run into any issues, let me know and I’ll try my best to fix it asap.

Special thanks to EddySims for their fantastic HQ Icon Pack I used to make the preview pic! <3

#ts2 mod #sims 2 mod #can you tell i had a lot of fun making that preview pic #stonks moment #now i want to run a restaurant business hehe

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suzukiblu · 4 months

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Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.

“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking.

“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.”

“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly.

“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly.

“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself.

“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .”

But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die.

“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace.

“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.”

Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that.

“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?”

“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?”

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”

Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–

Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s.

And one or two for his own.

“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie.

He’s so fucking grateful for that.

“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.”

“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.”

Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons.

That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done.

He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .

He’d had to.

That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth.

“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan.

He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her.

“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.”

“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.”

“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”

“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . .

Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–

Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot.

“What the fuck?” Kon says.

“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–”

Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest.

“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .”

Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too.

But of course Kon’s not human, is he.

“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her.

“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable.

“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.”

“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?”

“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.”

“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.”

“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her.

Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . .

And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby.

So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated.

Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . .

Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all.

He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–

He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all.

(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–

Tim stops thinking about it.)

He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him.

Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself.

But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . .

Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had.

And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.

#tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: the one where kon isn't the father #past rape

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luimagines · 7 months

Text

He’s Turned into a Kid Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Twilight, Warrior and Hyrule.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

The small boy looked around quietly. He was so much smaller than you thought he would be. Curiously, he walked around everyone, taking in what everyone was wearing and what they looked like.

With enough time, of him checking everyone out and everyone staring at him, he reached up and gently ran his fingertips over his ears. “You look like me.”

He then smiles from cheek to cheek, looking so innocently happy. “No one looks like me in my village!”

Oh your heart, you kneel down. He’s taller than you this way, but you don’t mind. You doubt he does either. “Well hello there, young man. Traveling our way?”

Twilight tilts his head, looking around himself one more. You can see the way his demeanor shifts when he sees that he’s not anywhere that he recognizes. “Uh-oh...”

“What?”

“I’ve never been this far away from home before.” He clutches his arm before he turns to you, tugging on your shirt. “Hey. Are we close to Castle Town? Rusl used to go there from time to time. He might be there.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just take you straight home?” Hyrule mutters. He’s quickly elbowed by Legend and with good reason.

You’re not even in his era. You wouldn’t know how to help him get back to his village to begin with. But you can get to Castle Town from here no problem. And maybe Zelda would be able to help get Twilight back to normal. Otherwise, this might get very messy very quickly.

You hummed. “Well, what if he’s not in Castle Town? Then what would you do?”

It seems like a dumb questions, but part of you wants to be prepared for that very real possibility (certainty) when you get there.

Twilight didn’t seem to consider that. “Well, then I can take the road like he does. He says that it’s a three day trip from Castle Town to our village. So I would take me a while to get back... but I think I can do it on my own.”

“Have you done it on your own before?” You stand because your knees are starting to hurt from being in that position for so long.

“Well... no...” He looks un certain again.

You nod, sticking out your hand. He takes it without hesitation. “Well let’s try to get to Castle Town first. We need to talk to some people there anyway.”

“We do?” Wild looks around for confirmation from the others.

“Yes, Wild, we do.” You try to stress the words so he can get the hint across. “There’s a little problem that we need to see of the Princess can fix because she’s really good at magic. Right guys?”

“Right.”

“Of course.”

“Naturally. We were already on the way there.”

“See?” You turn back to Twilight. He looks calmer now and he even starts to swing your hand back and forth. “We’ll help you out, ok?”

“Ok!” He smiles back, humming a small tune to himself before he changes his direction with a little skip .”Let’s go!”

You giggle, letting yourself b puled forward as he charges. “Easy! Hey, hold on!”

“This is going to be so much fun! I’ve never been on an adventure before.”

“Well hopefully this is a nice one.” You smile. He was a cute kid.

Warrior

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” Warrior wrings his hands in front of himself, toeing the ground shyly.

Everyone stands frozen at the sight of him.

He’s hardly at the height of your hip and he can’t be any older than seven years old. He’s adorable. It’s not fair.

Warrior shuffles nervously on the spot. He knows that everyone is looking at him. He looks around for a moment before he shyly tugs on your shirt. “Where’s my mama? Have you seen her? She’s really pretty and tall and wears a lot of red.”

You gulp and kneel down to meet his height. “No, I haven’t, honey. Sorry.”

You can see his lip wobble before you put your hands on his shoulders. You smooth down his shirt and brush away the tears that have yet to fall. “Don’t cry. We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

“She’s probably looking for me.” He tightens his hold on his shirt. “I’m going to get in trouble.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no-” You brush him down a bit more, fussing over him. “We’ll find her and explain to her what happened, ok? You won’t get in trouble. We’ll all friends here so we’ll look after you, ok? We’ll help you.”

“Promise?” He looks up to you with wide, wet eyes and your heart aches.

“I promise.”

“A heartbreaker before he even knows what that means.” Twilight shakes his head. “Using his looks to get something his way.”

“Twilight.” You hiss, turning to him. “Not helping.”

Warrior nods and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “Ok... Thank you...”

You nod and stand up again, holding out your hand for him to take. “Ok. We need to make our way to Castle Town. It’s about a day away. Think you can make the trip with us?”

He seems to take courage and nods, taking your hand in his. “I can! I live close by to Castle Town! It would help me get home faster!”

“Ok.” Legend stretches. “But we’d need to talk to Princess Zelda first before we can help you get home.”

He tilts his head. “Princess Zelda?”

“Yup!” You start to walk forward, signaling for the group to start making the trip. “She’s really nice. You’d like her.”

He hums quietly before he shifts to stand a little closer to your side. “My papa says he works close to the princess. He says she’s very pretty... Is that true?”

“She is very pretty. Yes.” You agree readily, mostly to humor him.

“Is she as pretty as you?”

You trip over your own two feet. You turn to look at him, not wanting to make it awkward. Even if you’re incredibly flustered. “I would say she’s prettier than me.”

“Impossible.”

Many of the others start snickering around you. You turn to give them a mild glare. Warrior doesn’t seem to notice.

“Mama would like you. She likes pretty things.”

You have to bite your lip. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very kind of you.”

Hyrule

“My name is Link, what’s yours?” The small child looks up at you with a bright smile. Hyrule got hit with a magic blaster faster than you could call out to him and this was the being who stood in his place.

You stutter out your name with wide eyes. He giggles and adjusts the hat on his head. “That’s a pretty name. It’s nice meeting you. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” You dive to catch his arm. Your action startles him and you’re quick to let him go again. The others around you are equally as startled but offer you no help. You try to catch your breath, taking a knee to match his line of sight better. “Where are you going?”

The boy suddenly eyes you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why are you alone?” You ask him instead. “It’s not safe to go alone.”

He hums and kicks the dirt under his foot with his toe. “But I’m always alone.”

“They’re right though.” Four offers a little assistance. “It’s not safe to go alone. Do you know how to use a sword?”

The child looks a little uneasy. “...My aunts don’t want me to use a sword. They say that I have o get stronger first. My sisters try to keep me from using too much magic- but I’m really strong now! So I’ll be ok.”

You snap your fingers. “The fairies!” You turn to the others of the group. “Maybe they can help us fix this.”

The small boy takes a step back, clutching his hands over his chest. “I didn’t say fairies-”

“Are there any Great Fairies even nearby?” Legend runs his hands down his face. “It would take a lot to find them. Their fountains can be well hidden enough to avoid detection- not to mention the potential dangers that surround them.”

“We have to try.” You press on. “They might be strong enough to help him!”

Time takes a knee getting close to the child. “Do you know where they are?”

Tiny hands cover a tiny mouth. He shakes his head.

That’s...odd, you think to yourself. Hyrule wasn’t exactly open about it, but he didn’t try to his relationship with the fairies around his home. You tilt your head. “Well that’s ok if you don’t knw where they are. We can look them for them together.”

“You can’t.’ He whispers. He sounds scared suddenly. “I won’t tell you anything. I won’t let you hurt them!”

He turns to run away again but time grabs his arm again. this time he tries to fight back and Time is at a loss of what to do. You dive in, grabbing his legs as he starts to kick. “We’re not trying to hurt them!”

“Let me go!”

“We just need help!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Enough!” Time booms in what you can only call the angry dad voice. He holds the child close to his chest, keeping him off of the ground. Hyrule stops moving, but he begins to shake, little tears star coming down his face.

You let him go and start to dry his tears and lower your voice to be as comforting as possible. “No one is going to hurt them and no one is going to hurt you, ok? We have a problem and we just want to know if they can do something about it.”

You feel bad but you don’t want him to run off, especially since he’s not where he thinks he is.

He sniffles and Time slowly lowers him to the ground again. “Better?”

Hyrule nods, pulling his hat over his face. He looks up at you with wide, wet eyes. “Promise.”

You hold out your pinky. “I promise.”

He copies your movement and nods. “If you hurt them-”

“We won’t.” You sigh. “Just stay with us for a little bit, ok? Just until our problem is fixed.”

Hyrule whines, stepping forward to hug you. You have no idea why or what’s going through his head, but you hug him back, rubbing what you hope are soothing circles on his back.

“I’ll be watching you.” He tries to sound threatening. “And not because you’re pretty.”

You have to bite back a snort. “Of course.”

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #lu x reader #I WANTED THESE TO BE CUTE #WHY DID SO MANY OF THEM TURN ANGSTY #DX #I'M SORRY #</3

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malegains · 6 months

Text

I use Bing to make my pics. Go to Bing’s website, click images, click create. Make an account if you need to, it’s worth it. You can use a throwaway email. Use naturalistic language, separate phrases by commas, the closer to the top a phrase is the more it’s weighted.

I make this post because I get the strong sense the Bing party will be over soon. Every day the AI cottons on to phrases and chokes on things you used to be able to sneak past. Stuff that was safe and useful a day or two ago now result in a dreaded Prompt Blocked (too many of those and you’ll get suspended, it hasn’t happened to me but it seems the threshold is low).

Safe prompts return four images. Fewer than four mean the missing ones were “not safe.” A prompt that processes but gives no results, or “egg dogs” is not too much of a cause for worry - retool, try again. Sometimes I don’t even change anything, and the one result I get on the second try is such a freakshow that it was worth it.

A prompt that is rejected without processing IS a worry and you should probably abort, as explained. However, keep in mind it’s not just sexy stuff that can trip that wire. I once got a harsh warning because I put “Phoenix park, Dublin.” I deleted that and it ran no problem. Avoid any and all political controversy (sigh. I know).

Recommendations:

Using age, profession, and nationality can influence the look of the model very easily. “French rugby player” is a go to for me, for example. In general, “rugby player” is cheat code for “make him sexy.” The mind of the machine, what can I say.

Use descriptive phrases of action and location to engineer what you want to see. Be creative and be specific. “Reading a placard at a botanical garden,” for instance. It seems this allows more extreme kinky stuff to sneak past the filter. I usually start with “side view” because otherwise you only ever get models looking straight ahead.

Grey sweat pants has become a trigger (they caught on). However, “gray pants” still works and gives some very tasty results.

High social cache locations and activities also seem to help. I got some WILD and EXTREME hyper images from adding “goofing around on stage at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.” Paired with “cast as a fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and the mega bubble butts and thick thighs were BULGING, as long as you didn’t mind a little tutu and fairy wings (the corny goofy masculine dude having fun facial expression that the earlier inclusion of “goofy” brought really worked in this instance). Most of these freaks were NAKED and I didn’t even ask for that!!! (No dong of course, this is Microsoft still)

Mention of glutes, butts, asses, etc are very dangerous and usually get you in trouble. I found some traction with “gluteal mass” but it got wise, and “bulging lower back muscles” used to be interpreted as glutes but seemingly no longer. “Disturbingly huge hamstrings” or “jaw-droppingly large hamstrings” does work to get That Ass sometimes, I guess because the computer has a fuzzy idea of the posterior chain.

Also, “pecs” used to be safe but is now also on the danger list. “Pectoral muscles” still seems safe, for now.

ALWAYS include shoes or footwear if you don’t want a tight cropped image. Black athletic shoes, sandals, converse sneakers, dress shoes, fluevog shoes if you’re making a fancy beef heap. Avoid boots. “Leather boots” once got me in trouble with the filter all by itself.

Adding a personality or mood descriptor near the top seems to humanize and give vitality to the outcome. Intense, goofy, outgoing, exuberant, shy - these have all done wonderful work for me.

If you’re into hyper / immobile muscle, imagining scenario where they’re constricted by space is useful. A prompt which just (“just”) gives a realistic super heavyweight will give an appalling mockery of the human form if you add “crammed into the front seat of his car.” Get creative. Elevators and doorways haven’t worked well, but cars, trains, planes, busses, subways, and CHAIRS of all descriptions have done well. Also, scooters and bicycles and mopeds really bring out the super freaks for whatever reason.

I write this to encourage you to go create some fleshcrafted sexy abominations of your own while it’s still possible. My sense is this party is only going to last a little while. I’ve already got more than 1000 images to share so, my larder is stocked to supply this blog for a while. But the more freaks we make while the freak factory is still in production, the better.

Get cooking!

#ai muscle #ai muscle growth #ai help

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thewertsearch · 7 months

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GC: YOU W3R3 STRUTT1NG 4ROUND 1N YOUR D3L1C1OUS K1W1 31GHT B4LL SU1T 4ND RUNN1NG YOUR FR3SH MOUTH 4S USU4L GC: durp yo terezi sup sup gotta beat john gotta beat john GC: hes got a long hood and he does wind, how can i get powers too? [....] GC: [...] 1M L1K3 D4V3 TH4TS GO1NG TO 1NVOLV3 F4C1NG YOUR OWN D34TH GC: 4ND 1M SORRY TO BR34K 1T TO YOU BUT 1 DONT TH1NK YOUR3 R34DY FOR TH4T

Well, at least she gave him fair warning.

Thanks to Vriska, John was able to achieve the god tiers without confronting his mortality. He didn't have to grapple with any of this, and it's possible that he was robbed of some character growth as a result.

That said, I still think Vriska did him a solid. It's just ironic that she thinks she's helping him develop as a hero, when she might be doing the exact opposite.

GC: BUT ONLY 1F YOU PROM1S3 TO TH3 3X4CT T3RMS OF MY 4RR4NG3M3NT, 1N ORD3R TO PROT3CT TH3 1NT3GR1TY OF TH3 T1M3L1N3 >:] TG: the arrangement being the coin flip thing TG: thank god we did that otherwise wed be screwed TG: i probably would have gone back in time and killed my own grandfather oh wait i never had one

lmao

I do wonder if Bro had an adopted family. We know Nanna and Grandpa's background, and Mom was probably the child that Skaianet were apparently raising in their laboratory. (Remember when I thought there was a secret clone of Rose down there?)

Bro, however, is an enigma, even among the Guardians. He has no known relationship with any of the other parents, but was definitely getting foreknowledge of Sburb from somewhere. I'm not even sure I want to know what sort of childhood produces Bro Strider.

GC: 1 TOLD YOU 1 W4S GO1NG TO FL1P 4 CO1N GC: 4ND B3FOR3 1 D1D, YOU H4D TO P1CK 4 S1D3 W1THOUT T3LL1NG M3 GC: GOOD H34DS OR B4D H34DS

Really, the coin is just a rhetorical device. Terezi doesn't need to flip a coin, or even have a coin, because the real flip is happening in Dave's head. His Mind, if you will.

This does raise a lot of questions, though. I hope there isn't a timeline for every conceivable decision you could make. We've sort of discussed the idea before, but I don't think I've really talked about the subtle horror of a multiverse that works that way.

I mean, if there's a timeline for every possible decision - if everyone is capable of making any choice, at any time - then John will randomly kill his friends, for no reason. There are millions of offshoots where he does this. WV will become a monarchist. Dave will take off his shades.

It goes deeper, too. You can't even meaningfully ask why Dave wears shades, because he doesn't. He's constantly taking them off, because it is possible for him to do so. And if there's a timeline where he never takes them off, it's only because that's a decision he could potentially make.

If timelines branch at every decision, with no restrictions, then every single person in the multiverse is constantly doing things that contradict the core of who they are. In fact, there is no core. Everyone is an indistinguishable robot, constantly making every possible decision, simply because they can.

Homestuck could work like this, but I prefer the Discworld interpretation - I think it's more consistent with the comic's themes of choice. In Night Watch, protagonist Vimes is confronted with this exact question, and we get this exchange:

“But sometimes you can’t help wondering: what would have happened if I’d done something different–” “Like when you killed your wife?” Sweeper was impressed at Vimes’s lack of reaction. “This is a test, right?” “You’re a quick study, Mister Vimes.” “But in some other universe, believe me, I hauled off and punched you one.” Again, Sweeper smiled the annoying little smile that suggested he didn’t believe him. “You haven’t killed your wife,” he said. “Anywhere. There is nowhere, however huge the multiverse is, where Sam Vimes as he is now has murdered Lady Sybil. But the theory is quite clear. It says that if anything could happen without breaking any physical laws, it must happen. But it hasn’t. And yet the “many universe” theory works. Without it, no one would ever be able to make a decision at all.” “So?” “So what people do matters!” said Sweeper. “People invent other laws. What they do is important!

In short, there are some things you would never do, physical laws be damned. It is inconceivable that Vimes would murder his wife, because his current personality is incompatible with that decision. It simply cannot be made to make sense, so it can't spawn a timeline.

Note that this is only true for Vimes 'as he is now'. His moral code doesn't necessarily apply to his alt-selves - or even his younger self, whose code hasn't solidified. Hell, half the book is about making sure Young Vimes develops that code in the first place. There could be an evil John Egbert, but our John can't just arbitrarily turn evil.

So that's how I think it works. There's a timeline for every decision that you'd choose to make, and that subset of decisions will change as you grow. Your development as a person shapes the multiverse, in a very literal way.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s99 #3093 #sort of like that ask about the alpha timeline needing to be consistent with the personalities of its inhabitants #but at a larger scale

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yuquinzel · 10 months

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— singularity.

feat. mikage reo. gn!reader. implied fwb. suggestive. i’d call this toxic. wanted to write reo in a new light. thank u user @fallenssun aka rosie for hyping me for this <3

mikage reo resents you, that much, you are aware of.

maybe hate is too strong of a word. you are afraid to use it. resent rings the right way — the perfect adjective to explain his lasting glares, the twist of his lips followed by dismissive responses whenever you strike a conversation. you catch his eyes on you often, maybe looking for more reasons to abhor you. he doesn’t seem to hide it either, whenever you flash him a smile and he only scowls at you. curse him, he wears it dashingly.

but then again, for reo to resent you so much he can not stay in the same room as you must mean you have done something to be the subject of his bitterness.

that, is where you are clueless.

despite his resentment, reo is quite gentle with you. when he needs to be, at least.

is tragedy a strong word too? your relationship with reo resembles one strikingly. a bloody-eyed tragedy dressed as a daydream in which tongue and limbs entangle and fingers run through disheveled hair, thumbs trace the bruised skin of the other. your vision is blurred and memories are hazy when blinded by euphoria. you can taste nectar on reo’s lips. as much as he resents you, he can not deny you either.

which is why you are still in his life, you conclude. you wonder if you could ever have the power to ruin him like he does with you.

nagi seems to have a strange liking in stirring up the already uncomfortable atmosphere, “think i’m gonna go, ’m too tired. ’ts such a pain seeing you both act like nervous teenagers.”

reo pays him no mind, instead finding the empty ochoko in his hand more interesting. he traces a lazy finger on its outlines, breathing a sigh of content when he pours himself more of the saké the three of you had indulged in.

it had been nagi, who invited you. he did not tell you he would be companied by reo as well. you guess reo must’ve tried convincing him otherwise. but you know you’re just flattering yourself — reo does not think of you as often as delude yourself.

“nagi, shut up. you’re the one who asked me to come. it’s rude to leave after that.” you say with blush-stained cheeks and a slurred voice. you haven’t drunk much. but you have always been a lightweight. nagi had known that, you think.

“come with me, then.” reo stirs in his spot. nagi turns to him. as the snow-haired male speaks the next dragged and slow syllables, you feel reo’s eyes boring into you. in any other occasion, you would’ve pretended to ignore him and shrink in your spot further. but maybe the alcohol has settled in your system. you feel defiant under his gaze. “reo wouldn’t mind, will you?”

it takes countable, pathetic seconds for reo to respond. you would call it hesitation — the second reo steals for an answer, but you know better. “i am going to stay back for some time. you can leave if you want.” he wears an elegant smile, eyes set on you. it is something the poets would call enchanting. a long-drawn breath leaves you. reo’s eyes haven’t left you. not yet.

you know what he’s asking. he won’t verbalise it. you know him. you feel compelled to play along with him. he knows you. you don’t really give him this power over you. he just commands it like it has always been his.

“that so?” nagi waits for your answer.

which comes in the form of a hesitant nod, “i’m staying back too, i don’t wanna go home yet.” you mirror reo’s smile. he pretends to look away and take a sip of his drink.

“ah. can’t be helped. ’m leaving then.” the subtle stretch of lips on nagi’s face and the tone of his voice is a little teasing. one you’d call mocking if you couldn’t hear the fondness behind it.

a part of you feels betrayed. that nagi has left you alone here, fully aware of your shaky relationship with reo. the more braver part of you is thrilled. you blame the alcohol. reo has never initiated a normal time together besides the unassuming “7:30” texts followed by the address of some five-star luxury hotel he must frequent a lot.

you always tell yourself it will be the last time. you always end up going again.

you wonder if this unplanned business is the same one as well. you would be disappointed if so.

the silence that encompasses the quaint tatami room is oddly comforting. there is a faint glow of honey, its origin nothing but the paper lamps hung over the walls. you think the restaurant must’ve been reo’s choice.

“i did not try to convince him to not call you, if you are wondering.” reo begins, and you feel like a part of you — hidden somewhere deep within the confines of your secrets is scanned over and vulnerably exposed. “i was the one who asked him to call you.”

“ah. i didn’t assume anything.” you lie, for reasons you can’t pinpoint. you shouldn’t be drinking more than this, it would backfire later. but it’s a good distraction from being the centre of reo’s attention. it is unnerving. you are not supposed to enjoy it this much.

as if reo can see right through you, he lets a chuckle hum in the air. “i see. that’s good. i was afraid i gave that impression.”

you know he’s doing this on person. that’s just what he does. and you don’t really feel like entertaining his amusement tonight, “you didn’t. but i wouldn’t have come if i knew you asked for me.”

your words take him aback, you hope so. reo clears his throat. “mhm. that’s why i asked nagi to do so. i have something to say.”

“and it couldn’t be over texts?” you lie again, because it is easier than admitting you wanted to see him.

“it couldn’t be over texts.” he repeats. “i had to see you.”

maybe the alcohol was too strong. reo has never been a lightweight like you. and he does not give you the luxury to discern his words further.

“do you hate me?” he mutters after a bated breath.

“i wouldn’t want to see you if i did.”

your finger goes to rest on your lips, brushing a little over the slightly chapped skin. you don’t miss the way reo’s eyes follow your ministrations. you hadn’t expected yourself to answer so quickly, or at all. but it is almost as if it was scripted. like you had hoped for him to be the one in doubts and for once, you being the one who subjects him to your cruelty.

reo lets your words simmer in his mind, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. some phantom words slither through his teeth and rest on his tongue, tasting bittersweet and dangerously addictive.

it has always been like this with you. you have always made him like this.

“do you think i hate you?” he asks. you hold your breath.

“resent would be the right word. you resent me.”

reo sucks in a deep breath, you see yourself behind his eyes. it seemed to you as if he was in pain. you also know you are the cause of it. it is both solemn and exhilarating. you feel bad. but you really don’t.

then he smiles at you. one you have always thought charming and fake. “would you like to go on a walk with me?”

when nights ascends the city of tokyo, bringing along a rainshower of artificial lights reflecting on the damp asphalt, dwindling the city scrapers with stars and fluttering with the scent of cheap champagne and take-out food— it’s when the city truly comes alive.

reo and you walk side by side. it is a little cold, so reo has you wrapped in his coat. it has been quiet for moments, maybe he is giving you the time to prepare yourself.

“i’m sorry.” the sudden apology hits you like a train. you could not have expected it. your face contorts into something intangible. reo sees your confusion.

“...for what?” you ask when he does not elaborate. you figure he had waited for you to question it.

“for wanting you.”

a nervous breath makes it way past your lips, and you struggle to find it again. the air is knocked out of your lungs just like that, and your heart stalls and stutters in your chest. reo sense your tension. he knows only he is capable of this. he does not say anything about it. if he expects you to question him again, then you’re afraid the conversation will end here.

but then he continues, “i’m sorry for wanting you. and i’m sorry i made it your problem.”

“what? — what are you saying, reo—”

“you have always been the only thing i’ve wanted. so desperately.” this is where reo pauses, to look at you. the contrast to his words and the twist of his lips, paired with the knit between his brows — it’s dangerously charming. “you are also the only thing i’m not good at. it makes me resent you.”

hearing the words resent and you in the same sentence in reo’s voice, directed at you — it would’ve tore you apart, it would picked at your skin until you bleed and fire smokes your lungs. but it would be peaceful. you could accept it and eventually come to terms with it. however long that takes.

but right now, it only leaves you more conflicted. if reo intends to love you, then it is a torment in itself.

“i despise finding you in everything. even when i’m not looking for you. i thought my resentment would eventually overrule everything else. but it didn’t. i only want you more than i can deny. you are on my mind more than you should be — and all that is making me realise i don’t resent you after all.”

a faint glow of strawberries is dusted on reo’s cheeks. you can feel the head radiating off him. along with the scent of his expensive luxury cologne, one he has covered you in many times before. it seems like a lie. “i just resent wanting you when i know i should not.”

seconds seem melt into infinity. you think your thoughts are no less than your words. they are spoken the moment they come to mind. when you part your lips, the december winter of tokyo manifests as the condensed air with your words. reo feels the urge to brush his thumb over your flushed cheeks. something about the moment is making you seem oddly vulnerable. “if you love me, you do not love me in a way i understand.”

your voice comes hushed. reo tenses up. then you hear his chuckle. it does not make you look at him. it does not make him look away from you.

you know you should walk away. this is not good for your heart. it makes you sick. you should walk away and never look back.

but instead,

“will you teach me?”

you feel a sick urge to smile, as wide as you can when you see reo part his lips. a broken voice, nothing more than an incoherent blurb of sound, leaves his lips.

it seems reo and you are not much different.

“teach me, how to love you that way. the kind that is so intense, it becomes greater than love and manifests as resentment. the kind you are so afraid to show. let me see it.”

there is not much distance between reo’s fingers and the heat of your skin. not when he brushes them over the outlines of your jaw, and then the corner of your lips. the very spot your own finger has traced only moments prior.

“you will leave me.” he says, pressing his thumb a little harshly on your bottom lip.

“if i had plans on leaving,” you let yourself lean into his touch. reo seems to like that, “you wouldn’t have seen me tonight.”

“i am afraid of hurting you.” reo knows his voice is weak, uncharacteristic and in contrast to his usual charm. he can’t seem to hate it though. he reminds himself you have seen more vulnerable than this.

he knows you will probably see more of him than he ever has, when your lips brush against his thumb. he aches to make it last, but then you speak again. “of course you’ll hurt me. you already have. i can’t promise i will not hurt you either. but i have stayed. love is just a compromise between hurt and adoration. you should know only you could hurt me in ways i’d adore.”

reo closes his eyes. you watch the rise and fall of his shoulders. “i wanted to see you one last time today. because i’m leaving.”

reo lets his finger rest between the crease of you brows. he smooths it over with a subtle drag. he looks like a bittersweet teenage dream. when he smiles at you like that. you should’ve been at a loss for words. you can not ask him when, or where, how far, how close — you can not ask him anything. yet you find yourself speaking anyway. maybe to fill in the silence. “do you expect me to ask you to stay?”

at this, reo has to look away. it is the first time tonight he has actively avoided your eyes. “no, but if i do — if i stay, will i see you again? will you let me? not just in hotel rooms or dinners like these, but everywhere. i want to keep seeing you.”

it is weak, his voice. he seems to be at the mercy of your reactions. it’s a little odd. your heart shouldn’t skip a beat at this.

“i will.” you don’t say, instead letting your hand rest on top of his. the one that is still caressing the side of your face. “then see me.” you don’t demand, instead clutching onto his hand a little stronger.

reo seems to understand you anyway. he has been good at that.

so he lets his lips crash with yours. there is no hesitation, it’s brimming with fervent passion. reo steals your breaths, as if he’s never had enough of it. he has always been a little selfish when it came to you — but you like him like that, he knows. which is why when he pulls back — only because he was breathless — he would look at your lips, swollen and bruised. he relishes in seeing your flushed cheeks. your parted breaths.

he tells you he loves you. in this moment. and later when you’d find yourself in his room, on his bed, covered in his sheets that smell like him. after, when you wear his shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. and when he drops you home, when he bends down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.

mikage reo tells you he loves you. and if you believe him, then this time you have no one to blame but yourself.

unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction, which is mistaken for love. reo does not tell you he loves you, but you simply delude yourself into believing it. so when he does say it — you’re too in love to notice it doesn’t mean anything.

that’s what i was going for i mean but yeah ok. now back to characterizing reo right and writing fluff :> thanks for reading, cya !

#❛ ‧˚🪐 — the dusk renditions.#couldn’t help sneaking in one richard siken quote :>#reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #reo x you #mikage reo x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #reo mikage x you #blue lock reo #reo x reader #i want a dollar for everytime i wrote resent ngl

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desiredcaramellatte · 5 months

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Can I have dark choco x soft!reader? Just heard the term soft reader and had to try it out.

I think I might’ve had a request similar to this before but uhhh oh well, if I did it was a long while ago. Yippee

I don’t really know which version of Dark Choco wanted to be done here so I just went with the old CoD timeline version before the Dark Cacao stuff

Not really too sure what soft means in this definition here but I just went with really sweet and kind of like energetic maybe idk-

Yay new post. Been a bit hehe, haven’t had much time over my break to write, I’ll probably post some more when school starts up again. ALSO I opened up matchups if anyone wants

Dark Choco x reader

(Who is soft)

Welp, they say opposites attract, you know. On the outside the two of you are completely different- the dark knight being a feirce and brooding presence and you being nothing than, well… soft, really.

Very few people actually know that Dark Choco is an absolute softie inside too. He is very closed off and not expressive in most forms aside from anger, but he does have a very pleasant heart in him.

He likes hand holding. Very subtle hand holding in areas that don’t have a lot of people but may contain some. Otherwise not a big fan of PDA. He will let you lead him around or push him places you want him to go, though.

If you do hug him in public he is likely to get extremely flustered and shut down. He will then promptly avoid everyone who might as so much have been in a fifty foot radius for a while, including you.

Dark Choco will let you snag his cape and use it whenever you want, so long as he’s not about to go into battle. He needs it for his emo boy aesthetic. Even then, a little bit of asking too polietly or begging and he’ll let you keep it just this once-

We all know the last part is an absolute lie ^ you two practically share custody over that thing now.

Refuses to let you touch the Strawberry Jam sword at all. No. Never. That is pretty much the one thing that you can’t win over by begging or owning being cute. It’s completely off limits to you, and for good reasons.

Likely to follow you around everywhere like a big, lost puppy dog. He’s not even too interested in what you’re doing tbh, he just wants to follow and trail after you whenever he can. He likes experiencing your daily life.

Dark Choco just likes hanging out with you and watching all the little things you do. His favorite times are when you two have little picnics or decide to have a camp out. In his eyes, you’re way too good to him.

#cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk #crk x reader #cookie run oven break #cookie run oven break x reader #crob #crob x reader #dark choco #dark choco x reader #soft reader #I do write I swear please believe me

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altruistic-meme · 7 days

Text

HI @spaghett-onaplate YOU SAID YOU WOULD LISTEN TO MY SPEECH ABOUT GEOCACHING SO HERE IT IS :) admittedly, i haven’t really done it in years and also i am going to go mostly off my memory so a lot of the technical aspects will be dodgy since i was. 8 or 9 years old when we started doing it and thus everything was handled by my dad. but. Here we go anyway!!

So geocaching is, at its core, a world-wide treasure hunt. You go around to different locations and look for some type of container that was put there, sign your name in the log, and then put it back to be found by the next person.

What is a “cache”? What does it look like? That’s one of the best parts: it can look like literally anything! One of the most common caches and perhaps the most well-known is the ammo can:

But people will use anything! Other common cache containers include: peanut butter jars, pill bottles, tupperware containers, and fake rocks. Geocaches come in all kinds of sizes, shapes, colors, styles. Things that my family has found used as geocaches include: a literal battery, a bird feeder, fake pinecone, gatorade bottle. As long as you can fit a little bit of paper inside it, it could be used as a cache.

Some paper? What is the paper? The log! Whenever you find a cache, you write your name (usually your username on the official geocaching website) and the date. This is used as a way to keep track of the cache, who has found it, how long it has been there. It’s really cool when you find one and find out someone had found the cache the same day you did!

Always bring a pen to sign the log!!! For some caches, there might be a pen inside the container, but it is always best to assume there won't be!

Official geocache website? Yep! This is where my knowledge is incredibly rocky, but I did watch my dad using it sometimes. But from what I can recall, the website is where all of the caches are logged so that you can get the information you need to actually, you know, find the cache! And it’s a community as well; people leave comments on the individual caches, saying that they found it and sometimes giving anecdotes about their experience in looking for it (ex. My family went to the bottom of a canyon here to get a cache once, and we were all dying on the way back up because of all of the stairs. We still make jokes 10 years later about the hellish canyon!). And, sometimes, they’ll say that they couldn’t find it, which does happen quite a bit! Either the cache was too well hidden, or a well-intentioned muggle found an old peanut butter jar covered in camouflage duct tape and thought it was just trash in a National Park, so they took it to dispose of it.

(Wait- muggle? Yeah, it’s unfortunate that the term is shared with that series, but muggle just refers to anyone who is not a geocacher!)

How do you know if a muggle has disposed of the cache you’re looking for? Really, you can’t. It can be assumed if, say, there are a lot of people saying they couldn’t find it and no one saying they could. But sometimes it really is just that well hidden. Oftentimes if it starts seeming like it might be missing, the person who originally placed the cache will go to see if they can find it since they know what it looks like and where it was originally hidden to verify if it’s still there.

It is for this reason it is always advised to put a geocache back EXACTLY where you found it! This is not always possible, and my family has had to semi-relocate caches in the past if the spot it was sitting is flooded or it otherwise seems dangerous for the cache to be there. But as a general rule, try to leave the cache exactly how you found it in the first place so that others can find it after you!

Who can place geocaches? Anyone! I do not know what all is involved in it, but caches are made by people in the community! It’s not as though there is an official group of people who place every cache. There are way too many for that to be the case.

Are geocaches only in parks? Nope! They can be found anywhere! National/State Parks (at least here in the US) are very common, but some other places we have found caches include: water towers, highway guard railings, the woods just off the highway, cemeteries, parking lots, people’s yards, community centers, libraries, museums. (Let me tell you, it’s really fun to be 14 years old with your dad, standing outside of your minivan looking at the guard railing on a busy highway. We have had people pull over to ask if we need help before.)

Okay, so what information do you need to find a geocache? The information that we used was usually:

What size is it?

Micro (battery)

Small (pill bottles, fake rocks)

Medium (ammo cans, pb jars, some tupperware)

Large (water jug, birdhouse)

How hard is it? Easy, normal, hard, etc.

Coordinates As in, the literal coordinates. We had a handheld GPS for this, but from what I can see they also have an official app which should be able to do the same thing – assuming you don’t go somewhere without signal!

Fun fact! Some large enough geocaches will contain swag! Swag is usually just small, cheap items that are a take-one-give-one system in geocaching. I assume it is something used mostly for kids, but it can be fun to see what kind of swag a cache has! I got a few fun trinkets this way. If you are going to look for a cache that is medium or larger, it’s a good idea to carry a piece of swag with you in case something catches your eye! Travel Bugs are a special swag item! They’re different from normal swag in that you aren’t meant to keep them. They are often on journeys! You can pick up a Travel Bug from one cache, scan it’s tag to see where it’s been before, and leave it in a cache you find later down the road.

Where can caches be hidden? Anywhere – with one exception: caches should NOT be buried. They will never be underground. But other than that, pretty much anything is fair game! One of the most common places is in a UPS, an Unusual Pile of Sticks, which just means a pile of sticks that looks a little too well-positioned to have fallen naturally. But other places include: gardens in front of businesses (the first cache we found!), hanging from a tree, magnetized to the previously mentioned highway railings, underneath the cover at the bottom of street lamps, inside tree trunks.

What countries do geocaching? From what I know, every country! I have only ever found US geocaches because I have only left the US once and we didn’t get one in Canada, but I know my Uncle has found them in France as well. This is a world-wide game! I hope to get a geocache next time I leave the US :)

OKAY that is all of the information I can think of right now. I kind of really want to get back into geocaching now, make my own account! My family found I think over 5000 geocaches from when we first started until now, from all across the country, including at one point I think almost every cache in Georgia. So I would be starting way from scratch, but it would be my own adventure :) plus I would get to revisit some places! (maybe not the canyon.)

Questions? I am open to answering further questions, though again I definitely don’t know everything, I just spent a lot of my youth doing this! But, I do also have access to my dad who knows a lot more of the specifics and details than I do. I also recommend looking at the official website for more information as well!

#that got. long.#in my defense the speech was meant to be like 10min #this could be a 10min speech #anywayyyy i would have sent you this as an ask oscar but i figured it would be better to have it attached to me than to you skdfhsd #ANYWAY!!!#as you can probably guess i highly recommend that people look into geocaching it's super fun #and you get to go for walks through parks a lot of the time!!!#or in fact you could do it ALL the time if you just. choose to look for caches that are in parks exclusively which you could 100% do #ANYWAY I NEED TO GO TO BED I HAVE TO GO TO WORK IN THE MONRING #i spent an hour writing this instead of getting ready for bed sdkhgsdhkg #geocaching #shh ac

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fangirlwriting-stories · 7 months

Text

A Need For Defensive Weapons

Summary: Sam opens up to Danny about something that happened, something he should really remember.

Author's Note:

My Brain: Hey you should continue that Danny Phantom AU

Me: ...Why?

My Brain: I wanna

Me: ...You're not gonna let me stop until the story's done are you

My Brain: Probably not!

Well anyway that whole "this is a one shot" thing didn't even last four days huh

...

Jazz knowing is… weird.

She’s not the most adept at the mechanics of ghost fighting, but after a straightforward talk about it, she lets Danny do most of the main action and backs him up when he asks for it. And he’ll admit, it’s nice knowing someone will be there to watch his back if he needs it. Definitely results in less injuries.

But that’s just the very practical reality of Jazz being able to be there when he’s fighting. There’s other parts of it that are weird too. For one thing, Jazz is way too terrible at jokes for someone who’s supposed to be related to him. They really need to work on her banter. And her knowing looks across the dinner table are a little too obvious for Danny’s comfort.

But honestly, he’s willing to forgo all of it. Because the other part of it is that he can look at Jazz and be met with a reassuring smile that actually helps him feel at ease. Or he can talk about ghost fighting freely, as long as they’re sure no one else is around. He has someone to bounce ideas off of and strategize with, because it turns out Jazz is so much smarter than he’s given her credit for.

It’s a bizarre shift in his normal, but in the end, Danny decides that it’s more good things than bad. It’s relaxing, having someone to count on.

But it’s also very new, and he’s not sure he feels like he can tell her everything yet. Knowing he can open up to someone and knowing he can open up to someone are two different things.

He’s also pretty sure Jazz gets that, though, and she’s kept her promise about not pushing him. He tells her the few things he knows about what happened with Freakshow in short little bursts, and she tells him the things she knows happened while he was gone when he asks, but not otherwise.

This does have some side effects, though. Mainly being that he comes up with stories that don’t contradict anything in short bursts too, and tells them to Sam and Tucker about as fast. And while they’re certainly being less harsh with him than they were when he first got back, he can tell it’s starting to irritate them. Sam, especially.

He doesn’t feel like he can do anything else, though. And they don’t say anything to him directly, so they all continue to ignore the problem. Hopefully they can skirt by on that until the problem stops existing and then all move on.

The ghost fighting is slowly picking up again too, and Danny’s starting to have his usual weekly run-ins with Skulker and Technus and the Box Ghost. It also becomes more and more clear that Amity Park is no longer a fan of Danny Phantom.

Well, granted, they haven’t been a fan of him for a while, but now it’s significantly worse. It’s a lot harder to find places to hide and go ghost, and a lot of the times Jazz has to cover for him, especially when he’s with Sam and Tucker. (Another reason he’s glad he told her, actually.)

On the other hand, one thing that definitely hasn’t gotten easier is hearing how Sam and Tucker talk about Phantom now.

It’s not like they were necessarily huge fans of his ghost half before. If anything, they seemed indifferent. They brought him up when ghost fights happened near them, which wasn’t always, and they never really had much to say beyond commenting on how that fight move had been cool, or that ghost had been scary, or something along those lines.

But now…

“Okay it’s lunchtime and not after school in the library so you can’t stop me,” Sam snaps as Danny approaches their usual table, late after a detour to fight some ghosts nearby.

He blinks at Sam, feeling like he’s missed the beginning of a conversation. “What?”

“I need to vent and you can’t stop me!” Sam snaps.

Danny blinks again, and turns to Tucker, who gives him a ‘don’t mess with her’ look.

“Uh, okay?” Danny says, sitting down next to Sam.

“Great!” Sam says, not seeming at all calmer now that Danny’s agreed, and instead turning back to Tucker with an angry gaze. “Anyway, I need to talk about Invis-O-Bill.”

Oh, great.

“First of all,” Sam says, pointing at Tucker like they’d had this conversation before. “He has a really stupid name.”

“Ugh, he wouldn’t if people would just—” Danny stops, takes a deep breath, and gestures at Sam. “Whatever.”

Sam stares at him for a couple seconds, then seems to brush it off and turns back to Tucker. “But more importantly, I cannot stand his attitude! You can’t just flip back and forth on a dime between villain and hero and expect people to roll with the punches! What’s that all about?”

“What’s up with you being so caught up in it?” Danny asks despite himself, managing to hold himself back from glaring at her. “You never cared about him before.”

“Yeah well he hasn’t been everywhere before!” Sam snaps, glaring the other way.

“So what, you don’t like him because he’s mainstream now?”

“What? No!” Sam says, turning to glare at him.

“Okay,” Tucker says, leaning in between them. “Take a breath. We’re all friends here.”

Danny sighs and looks away. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam mutters, looking down at her food. “I just— I guess it all just has me a little on edge.”

“There have been a few more ghosts lately,” Danny says, though he hasn’t actually seen too much of an uptick. “You know, if you want, I might be able to convince my parents to let you come over and I could show you how to use some ecto weapons.”

“I… think I’ll take you up on that,” Sam says, which Danny isn’t expecting. She’s shown total disinterest in ghost fighting before.

“Uh, sure,” he says anyway, because he’s not going to take it back when he was the one who offered. “You can ride home with Jazz and I today.”

“You sure your parents will let you do that?” Tucker asks.

Danny laughs a little. “Sure. All I have to do is say ‘hey guys Sam wants to learn to fight ghosts’ and they’d practically let her move in.”

“Heh, yeah I could believe that,” Sam says with a small smile of her own.

So, after their hour doing homework in the library (Danny is actually making progress, about halfway caught up now), Sam rides home with him and Jazz. Just like Danny expected, his folks are totally cool with it, and he takes Sam down to the lab to show her some of the ecto weapons. He just barely manages to talk his dad out of coming along, with a little help from Jazz.

“Okay,” Danny says, feeling more than a little awkward as he leads Sam down to the lab. He tends to steer clear of ghost stuff with Sam and Tucker for obvious reasons. “We’ve got a cabinet full of weapons in the back.”

“Cool,” Sam says, turning immediately to look for it. Danny walks over and she follows close, seeming more than a little eager.

He gives her a look, and Sam smiles, but there’s nerves there.

“Are… you okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Nothing! It’s nothing! Just ready to get started!”

Danny looks at her for a second longer, then shrugs it off and turns back to the cabinet, unlocking it and pulling it open. “So, you’ll probably want to stick with blasters if you’re just looking for defensive weapons,” he says. “A small one you can keep in your pocket would be best.”

“Can they be used as offensive weapons?” Sam asks.

“Well, I guess technically,” Danny says, glancing over at her curiously. “That’s not how I tend to use them.”

“Since when do you use them?”

“Uh, well you’d be surprised how often ghosts come up on family vacations,” Danny says, turning back to the cabinet. “Okay, I’ve got some wrist rays, lazer lipstick, and a couple smaller handheld blasters. Any of those sound good?”

“I’ll take the wrist ray,” Sam says, holding out her hand.

“Sure,” Danny says, picking one up and passing it over. “Those are pretty simple. You just aim and shoot by pressing the button.”

Sam straps it to her wrist and immediately turns and aims at the opposite wall, pressing the button. A green beam shoots across the room and blasts a beaker into bits.

“Woah, watch it Sam!” Danny calls, reaching out and pulling her arm back. “I have to clean that up, you know!”

Sam seems to shake herself, and turns back to Danny. “I— sorry. Just testing it.”

“Well we have a perfectly good backyard to test it in,” Danny says. “You can shoot at some grass or some dandelion fluff.”

Sam looks down and fidgets with the strap on her wrist. “Yeah,” she says. “Okay.”

Danny pauses and takes her in. She’s tense, and her shoulders are hunched like she’s looking for a threat.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm. She relaxes a little and turns to look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You seem really nervous. And since when do you want to learn how to fight ghosts anyway?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam snaps, glaring down at the ground. “You wouldn’t get it anyway, since you don’t stick around enough to know what’s going on.”

Danny winces.

But a second later, Sam sighs. “No, I’m sorry, that’s not fair,” she says, turning to him with a guilty look. “It’s really not your fault, and I should stop talking like it is. Even if it’s still totally crazy that you’re not telling anyone what actually happened.”

Danny is quiet for a minute. “Did… did something happen to you?” he asks hesitantly.

Sam fiddles with the strap and doesn’t meet his eyes.

Crud. Something did happen. Something happened and he wasn’t here to protect her—

“So uh,” Sam says, still not looking at him. “You know how the last place you said you were going before you were… well, you know, was Circus Gothica?”

“Uh…” Danny wracks his brain and comes up with a vague blurry memory of ditching Sam and Tucker in the library, finding Lancer waiting outside, and overshadowing him to lock him in a broom closet. “Yeah?”

“Well, Tucker and I followed you,” Sam says. “We were trying to find out what your deal was. We never found you, but we did find Freakshow and that Invis-O-Bill guy.”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny says, looking away. “Following you so far.”

“Well, um.” Sam takes a deep breath. “So Freakshow tells me he hasn’t seen you and leaves the tent, and I’m about to follow when Invis-O-Bill shows up and grabs me.”

Danny’s heart drops into his stomach, and he spins back to Sam. “What?”

“And he puts me up on the highwire,” Sam says, clenching her hands into shaking fists while still glaring at the floor. “With no net. And then cuts the wire. If Freakshow hadn’t caught me when I fell I would have died. He tried to kill me.”

Danny can’t breathe. “I di— he did? I don’t— I don’t remember that.” Why can’t he remember that?

“No, like I said, you were gone already,” Sam says with a sigh, like it’s not a big deal. “I just, then he just shows up again last week like nothing’s happened and goes back to fighting that stupid ghost with all the boxes, whatever the heck his name is. I just… I couldn’t take it.” She looks down at her wrist. “So I… I think I’ll feel a lot better if I’ve got something to defend myself with, you know? If he or any other ghost tries to mess with me again.”

“Sure,” Danny says, trying to talk past the sudden lightheadedness. He hopes his face looks even marginally appropriate for the situation.

Sam looks up at him, and he tries to focus on her and not his racing heartbeat. “Hey, I— I’m sorry,” she says. “I know I’ve been kind of snappy lately. I think I’m just on edge, you know?”

Then, without any warning, she reaches out and wraps her arms around him. “But I’m really glad you’re okay,” she says, while Danny goes back to staring at the floor and trying to force his breathing to cooperate. “And I… I’m sorry I got so mad at you when you first showed up again. It really wasn’t your fault. I mean, obviously. I can’t fault you for actually getting kidnapped.”

“It’s okay,” Danny manages. “I’m fine. I uh— I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sam pulls back, seeming slightly surprised. “Oh, okay. Meet you in the backyard?”

Danny nods and turns to practically run up the stairs. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the bathroom, then slams and locks the door. He leans back against it and slides to the floor, burying his head in his knees.

Breathe, you’re fine, nothing permanent happened, Sam’s fine, everything’s fine.

It’s fine.

…

“Alright!” Danny calls, opening the back door with a bang that’s maybe a little too loud, but that doesn’t stop Sam from turning to him with a smile. “So let’s teach you how to shoot some grass with a wrist ray!”

...

Chapter Two

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #no one knows au #my fic

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

Note

Valdo Marx is like 99% fanon, is he not?

Valdo Marx is 99.999% fanon.

We only know that he is a troubadour from Cidaris who considers Jaskier to be "a talentless wastrel who panders to the taste of the masses.” We also known that the moment Jaskier gets his hands on a bottle he thinks has a djinn in it, he wishes for Valdo to die of apoplexy.

That’s all we know! So he is a fandom OC, really. Even more so than Aiden because at least we know *something* about Aiden (how he died and what kind of man he was)

So it’s basically another fun creative writing assignment. Who would Jaskier hate that much?! And why?!

And I know some fans are like…well obviously. Jaskier is a petty bitch. But I think that’s an oversimplification! To me personally, it is still extremely noteworthy! For three reasons.

1) Dandelion (talking books now but I do think this all applies to TWN Jaskier just as well) does not have the focus or attention span required to hold a grudge. I don’t remember the exact quote (I don’t have my books on me) but Geralt comments on it specifically.

2) He is predisposed to liking people and thinking the best of them. Geralt (understandably) has a much gloomier outlook on trust, life, and love.

3) Dandelion may be a bitch (I mean. He IS a bitch) but he also has a soft gooey center. He’s just like most witcher characters in that he has layers. Crunchy outside and smooth inside. So while he has a sharp tongue, he does also have a soft heart.

When Geralt breaks (redacted)‘s leg (ankle? I don’t remember) Dandelion screams as though it were his own. On the dragon hunt he begs Geralt not to kill the dragon because it’s “pretty”. He asks Geralt to bring Ciri to Toussaint so he can hug her. He changes the lyrics to his song about the elves in order to protect them.

He’s a petty bitch with a soft gooey center.

I mean, the Valdo thing is obviously supposed to be funny. Dandelion provides so much of the comic relief. It is very likely that we were never meant to think about it this deeply. But overthinking is what we do for fun, gatdamnit! 😂

I admit I haven’t done anything creative with Valdo in my fics but I love when other people do.

I’ve seen fics that make the conflict:

Just theater. They actually secretly like each other. This usually involves hilarity.

A concept where Valdo has a crush on Jaskier, but Jaskier misinterprets it as competitiveness and they start one-upping each other until it spirals out of control.

Unrequited love, on either side.

A concept where Valdo is actually Klaus from the Umbrella Academy time traveling and bringing all the pop songs from the future with him. He enrages Jaskier by how easily he shits out hits (that one was my concept bc I was just sitting there amusing myself after TUA S2)

Valdo is Jaskier with a mustache

The conflict stems from a misunderstanding or a very complicated ‘both of these people are traumatized” breakup. Both are in Oxenfurt and dealing with their own shit/trauma and manage to hurt each other without meaning to.

Fics where the history of it is very very dark. I’ve seen fics where Valdo is abusive. I’ve also seen deaddove dark!Jaskier fics where he is the abusive one.

Usually there is a romance there at some point to explain the intensity of the hatred, but not always. They can also be true enemies (Valdo has murdered or otherwise harmed someone Jaskier loves), or they can be related to each other, and sometimes both or all of the above lol.

Like. The range. I’ve seen Valdo as the perfect ‘hatesex’ candidate for short PWPs and longer Enemies to Lovers multichapters. I’ve seen Valdo as a convenient stand in character when you need a rival, to multichapter works of in depth character creation for him. Or he’s just there to provide Geralt with the motivation to confess his feelings.

So feel free to rb with your favorite Valdo fics, folks. There’s a lot of creativity out there. Not to brag on the fandom writers (but I’m going to brag on the fandom writers) they are a bunch of badasses.

#the witcher #jaskier #valdo marx #canon or fanon #witcher character meta

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warrioreowynofrohan · 2 months

Note

Your description of the Nargothrondim (I don't know how to spell it, lmao) is really fascinating (Honestly, First time I saw a post describing them in a bad light). Initially, I was shocked at how negative it was, but then reflecting on Finrod's oath and the moment when Beren had come asking for help, made me think how selfish the Nargothrondim are, no matter how understandable it was not wanting to die for an Edain. This made me wonder though, whether it was jealousy over how much Finrod loved the Edain more than them, or was it because of Celegorm and Curufin's manipulation (or other factors) that made them distasteful to you?

Thank your for the question!

I find the Nargothromdim and their motivations interesting. (I’m not certain which post you’re referring to, but looking back I really do have quite a few on them: this one on Finrod is at the heart of it, there are a couple follow-ups on similar themes, and then two posts from my set of posts on the poetic version of the story of Beren & Lúthien).

They are, I think, in an interesting position in Beleriand. They’re sheltered against the war, relative to, say, Dorthonion, Hithlum, and Himring, but they’re not completely cut off from it like Gondolin is. The Battle of Sudden Flame has brought home to them just how dangerous the war is, after 400-odd years of relative peace. And - I think crucially, for their reaction to Beren - they’re not living side-by-side with the Edain like the Fingolfinians are with the House of Hador. The House of Bëor has been a long way off, in Dorthonion, so the Nargothrondim don’t have an immediate emotional connection with the House of Bëor and what they’ve done.

And this is pretty important to me, because Finrod helping Beren isn’t just him fulfilling a personal debt to a friend. Finrod and the Finarfinians are liege-lords to the House of Bëor - that means the House of Bëor are loyal to them and will fight in their defence, and that the Finarfinians will come to the aid of the House of Bëor when it is in need. Due to what is probably a combination of not knowing everything that’s going on in Dorthonion (due to the war disrupting communications) and being physically cut off from it by the capture of Tol Sirion, the Finarfinians haven’t provided that aid. Beren is literally the last surving man of the House of Bëor; all the rest of them have died in defence of Dorthonion, which has helped to keep Nargthrond - well, if not safe, safer than it would otherwise have been. For Beren to then come to Nargothrond for help and Nargothrond to refuse to do anything comes across as profoundly ungrateful.

I do think that Finrod’s closeness to the Edain played a role in their refusal. Finrod’s the diplomatic linchpin of Beleriand - it’s no accident that relations between the different realms unravel very quickly after he dies - but that puts him rather in the position of a head of state who is always focusing on foreign policy and holding diplomatc summits around the world, and rarely focusing on domestic policy. Namely, the people at home get cranky. It seems very plausible that the Nargothrondim had concluded Finrod cared more about the Edain than them, and that this played into their refusal to take risks to aid Beren.

It’s their actions after Finrod’s departure, though, that have the most negative impact on my opinion of them. They basically take Celegorm and Curufin as their leaders and don’t seem opposed to that, despite the fact that the core of Celegorm’s speech invoking the Oath was threatening to kill them if anyone helped Beren get a Silmaril. It’s not them just refusing to help Finrod, but also, after that, choosing to take Celegorm and Curufin as their leaders over Orodreth in everything. Even when Lúthien arrives and Celegorm and Curufin imprison herand try to forcibly marry her to Celegorm, no one does anything to help her. Both the prose and the poetic versions of the Beren and Lúthien story note this:

The Silmarillion: Orodreth had no power to withstand [Celegorm and Curufin], for they swayed the hearts of the people of Nargothrond; and Celegorm sent messengers to Thingol urging his suit.

Lays of Beleriand: It was not hid in Nagothrond / that Fëanor’s sons her held in bond / …Orodreth knew / the purpose dark they would pursue: / King Felagund to leave to die / and with King Thingol’s blood ally / the gouse of Fëanor by force / or treaty. But to stay their course / he had no power, for all his folk / the brothers had yet beneath their yoke, / and all yet listened to their word. / Orodreth’s cousel no man heard; their shame they crushed, and would not heed / the tale of Felagund’s dire need.

This is incredibly strange to me, because forcing someone into marriage against their will is basically unheard of and unthinkable among elves [yes, there’s Eöl, but he lives off on his own and I don’t think anyone outside Nan Elmoth would know that Aredhel didn’t marry him out of free choice]. And yet this entire group of people is just shruggling their shoulders and tolerating it. The best defence I can think of is that they’re afraid that, if free, Lúthien will run off to Tol-in-Gaurhoth and get captured by Sauron, and they think her being held captive by Fëanoreans is less bad than her being held captive by Sauron. But even if that’s the case, the inaction reflects very badly on them, especially because Celegorm and Curufin have no actual power aside from the Nargothrondim’s acquiescence - as wel see when everyone suddenly does a 180 and turns against them when Lúthien defeats Sauron.

It’s possible to headcanon that Sauron could even be somehow psychically affecting Nargothond to encourage apathy and despair - as we see his Ringwraiths affecting Minas Tirith during the siege in The Lord of the Rings - just to help make sense of the complete and apparently unanimous reversal of Nargothrond’s opinion following his defeat. The other possibility is simply that, because they didn’t want the risk of doing anything, they convinced themselves nothing could be done, and then were ashamed of that when Lúthien showed them that it had been possible to do something.

When you add in their reactions to Túrin later in the story (which, granted, is likely also affected by shame over their previous decisions), they just seem very easily swayed, and every time they are swayed it seems to be towards the wrong decision. So it makes me wonder why they are like that.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #nargothrond #finrod #beren and luthien

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theoreticslut · 2 years

Text

「 celebrate good times 」

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: eddie is finally graduating, and - as his best friend - you make sure he gets the celebration he deserves.

requested: no

word count: 4k

warnings: pet names (honey/hon, princess, baby, etc), reader being anxious

a/n (1): i attended a graduation party a few weekends ago and all i could think about was eddie getting the graduation party he deserves. like he’d just be so overwhelmed with joy - even if he doesn’t outwardly express it. anyways, i hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece Xx

a/n (2): so so so sorry i haven’t posted a fic in probably a month and a half/two months. college has been busy - as it always is. if i ever get down time, i’m usually trying to sleep and take some ‘me time,’ bc i don’t get it otherwise. i hope i’ve still got some people here though willing to read my fics. i love you guys & am really hoping i can’t get some writing done soon again so i can post more for all of you Xx

“The class of 1986!”

As rounds of applause and cheers permeate the gymnasium after Principal Higgins’ announcement of the newly graduated class, you find yourself smiling wider than ever before. Even wider than you did on your own graduation day.

Your best friend has finally graduated, and you couldn’t be any happier or more proud. He’s worked so hard to get here, and you only hope you can treat him to the full experience that he rightfully deserves.

“I told you it was ‘86, baby!” Eddie smiles, arms open wide in grandeur as he jumps off the makeshift stage to greet you and his uncle.

“l didn’t doubt you for a second, Eds.”

“I’m just glad you made it, son. I’m…well, I’m proud of you.” Wayne congratulates, and you know he’s emotional even if he’s not showing it.

Wayne has raised Eddie for a good twelve years at least, and he’s glad to say he’s done a far better job than his brother ever could. Although he hates that his brother followed the family legacy and practically left Eddie behind, he’s proud that Eddie is trying to do better than either of them - Wayne or his father - ever tried to.

It’s hard to watch the kid you raised grow up to be an adult right in front of your eyes, though, regardless of how proud he is.

“Ah, c’mere.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the sight of Eddie pulling his uncle into a hug, but it warms your heart all the same. They’re the only blood the two of them have, and it’s nice that they’re so close.

“You too, honey. Get in here.” Eddie coaxes, reaching out for you where you stand to the side of them.

As he grabs your waist and pulls you into the hug, you can’t help but let out a gasped giggle which brings a smile to both of the mens’ faces. Eddie is simply always happy to see you happy, but Wayne is more pleased with the fact that you make Eddie happy.

It didn’t take long at all for Wayne to welcome you into their little family after you and Eddie became friends back in late elementary school. He could tell that his nephew had an immediate soft spot for you - and that you had one for him - and that’s all he needed to know.

Ever since, he’s seen you as a daughter, because he’s sure that sooner or later you will be in a sense. It’s clear to him that both you and Eddie love each other, even if you haven’t yet figured it out yourselves.

“Eds, you’re squishing me.” You chuckle, trying to pinch his side as you hug him and his uncle.

“Sorry, hon. Guess I’m just a little too happy today.”

Smiling, you smooth out your sundress as the three of you pull away from the hug.

“You deserve to be, Eddie. It’s definitely been your year, just like you said it would. You deserve to celebrate it.”

“Yeah? Well how does pizza and movies sound?”

“You want to celebrate your graduation with pizza and movies? Two things we do just about every week as is?” You question, a little skeptical that he doesn’t have any other ideas.

“Do you have a better idea, princess?”

“I might. Let’s take a few more pictures and then head home first, though.”

Eddie can’t help but raise his brows at your statement, only one idea running through his head at your innocuous response. Surely you don’t mean what he’s thinking though. Not when Wayne is standing right here with the both of you, and the two of you have never done anything of the sort. You’re best friends. Still, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to.

~.~

Wayne can’t help but shake his head at you, which you don’t miss, as the three of you get closer to the trailer park. You’re practically bouncing in the center seat of the truck with all the nervous, excited energy coursing through you.

Since the beginning of April, when you found out for sure that Eddie would be graduating, you’ve been planning a graduation party for him. He deserves it more than anyone, and you know that Wayne wouldn’t know where to start with one, never having one himself either.

Of course you made sure Wayne was included in the planning from the get-go after you first approached him with the idea. He was Eddie’s uncle, and sole blood relative in his life, after all. You couldn’t throw Eddie a party and not invite him.

Albeit being a bit hastily put together with only a month of planning, you and Wayne were determined to give the lovable metalhead “freak” you both hold dear a graduation party. You would spend the mornings over at the trailer with Wayne, running things over while Eddie was at school, and then you’d spend evenings with Eddie acting as if there was nothing out of the ordinary happening right under his nose.

You planned out the food and beverages, the music, the time and place, the guest list…anything and everything that goes into planning a graduation party you managed to do in a month. You even roped in - bribed - Steve and the kids to get the party set up while you were at graduation for Eddie, because it would surely be suspicious if you missed watching him walk the stage.

Containing your excitement has always been difficult, but it’s even harder to do when it’s a surprise for your best friend. You’re dying to see his reaction, hoping that he’ll appreciate the idea and not be upset that you did this without his permission.

“You okay, honey? I think you’re more excited than I’ve been all day, and I’m the one that graduated.”

“’M fine, Eds.”

“Positive?”

“Mhm. I am excited, but can you really blame me? My best friend finally graduated from the hellhole that is Hawkins High.”

“Mm, I guess I can’t, but you’re still far too excited in my opinion.” Eddie smiles, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him on the bench seat.

Wayne doesn’t miss the little action, of course, but says nothing as the two of you have been like this for years now. He knows that as soon as he says something then things will get awkward between you. He’d honestly just rather watch the two of you figure it out yourselves, no matter how painful it might be at times. He’s sure it’ll happen sooner or later.

“You’ll just have to deal with it, then.” You quip, smiling as he gives you a skeptical side eye.

As he smiles and shakes his head, however, you feel the smooth asphalt change to the bumpy gravel of the trailer park and you start to bounce in excitement yet again. A month of planning is coming to light in less than two minutes. How can anyone expect you to sit still?

“What’s going on?” Eddie questions, dragging out the question as he notices the large amount of people outside the trailer.

“I didn’t do anything, Wayne. I swear.”

“I know you didn’t, Eddie. This is all y/n’s doing.” He ever so slightly smirks, glancing between his nephew and you.

“Y/n?”

You can’t help the soft, albeit unsure, smile that settles on your lips as Eddie looks out the windshield as the truck comes to a stop, Wayne parking and sliding out of the vehicle, leaving you and Eddie alone.

“Congrats on Graduating, Eds.”

“Y/n…”

“I wanted you to be able to celebrate with everyone that cares for you.” You explain, watching him as he takes all of it in, abnormally quiet.

“You…you planned a party for me?”

“Wayne and I did, yeah. What do you think?”

“I can’t believe you, hon. I love it.“

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, thank you. I…I never expected to have one of these. Wayne…”

“I know, Eds. That’s why I wanted to do it. You deserve it, munch.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, wrapping you up tight in his arms.

“How about we go join the party, yeah? Everyone’s waiting on you.”

He nods, smiling, before he opens his door and slides out. Before you can move to do the same though, he’s got his arms around you pulling you out of the truck himself.

Giggling, you can’t help but smile as he sets you down before pressing a kiss to your hairline. He can’t believe that you’d go through all of the planning of a party just for him. You’ve always treated him well and made him feel special, but this is going above and beyond.

Truthfully, he’s not sure there’s enough words to express just how grateful he is at the moment. All he can think to do is to kiss you, but you’re only friends. Anything but a forehead kiss might make things a little awkward.

As he lets his lips linger at your hairline, though, all he can do is smile and it’s nearly impossible to stop. He’s honestly not sure what he’d ever do without you. Not when you make his heart race and make him feel seen.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” He mutters, smiling and sighing as he grabs your hand in his.

“You deserve it more than anyone, Eds. You worked hard to get here, and we wanna celebrate it with you.” You state, squeezing his hand in yours before leading the two of you out from behind his Uncle’s truck.

Eddie still looks awed by you as you drag him into the throes of his party, a soft smile on his lips and fondness in his eyes. He’s never felt more lucky in his life, but he’s got you and that’s got to be done with the greatest luck in the world.

“Congrats, man!” Steve calls, smiling as soon as you and Eddie come into view, taking notice of your intertwined hands.

Though neither of you know it, all your friends have bets on when the two of you will get together. Your feelings for each other are so obvious that it’s really all they can do to not go crazy with the constant “not flirting.”

“Thanks, Harrington. It’s nice to see you.”

Before anything more can be said between the two men, Eddie’s being attacked by the three freshmen he’s taken under his wing, nearly being knocked over by the force of their group hug.

“You did it, man! You graduated!” Dustin smiles, patting his dungeon master’s back.

“Told you that ‘86 was my year, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s weird to think you won’t be there next year.”

“I’ll still be around, dude. Gotta make sure you’re taking care of those lost lambs.” Eddie teases, ruffling the boy’s hair as all three of them promise that they will.

All you can do is watch on with a fond smile as Eddie begins to play fight with the younger boys. It’s only when Steve bumps your shoulder with his do you pull your eyes away from Eddie.

“It’s a nice party, y/n. You did good.”

“Yeah? Thanks, Steve. And thank you for getting it set up. I owe you one.” You smile, letting Steve pull you into a side hug as your attention drifts back to Eddie.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a really nice thing you’re doing for him, and I’m glad I could help.”

“Have you given him his gift yet?” He questions after a moment while Eddie gets pulled into a conversation by someone else.

“Not yet. Planned on giving it to him later, towards the end of the party.”

“Don’t want anyone to see you confessing your love to him, huh?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you swat at Steve’s chest. He’s always teased you for your feelings towards the metalhead, even when you never officially told him them. He just knows, and you really kind of hate it sometimes.

“I’m not confessing my love to him, dipshit. It’s just a gift.”

“If it is, then why haven’t you given it to him yet?”

“Shut up, Steve. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Never said you did, but you’d and I both know it’s not just a gift you’re giving him, don’t we?”

“Go find someone else to bother.” You huff, shoving him off with no real conviction. He’s not wrong, even if you won’t admit it.

~.~

As the sky fades into different shades of the sunset, you find yourself sitting on the Munson’s little patio, watching Eddie laugh along with your guys’ friends as they chase each other with water balloons. It’s nice to see him just enjoying himself with no worries whatsoever.

“Ahh! You’re gonna get it!” Dustin threatens, chasing a laughing Eddie who’s running towards you.

“Can’t now! Y/n’s the safe spot.” Eddie calls, clambering up the stairs behind you as Dustin hovers in front of you - you just watching on in amusement.

“There was no safe spot!”

“There is now.”

“Cheater.” Dustin huffs, glaring at the man now squatting behind you.

As Dustin stalks away, pouting but not challenging the older man, Eddie starts to laugh from behind you.

“That was a bit mean, Eds.” You state, trying to give him a pointed look but a smile finds itself a place on your lips as you look at him from over your shoulder.

“He’ll deal with it. Wanted to come see you, honey.” Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he settles himself into a sitting position behind you, you being positioned between his legs.

“Yeah? You’re seeing me.”

“I am.”

There’s no stopping the smile that grows on your face at his unintentionally sultry voice while he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“How are you liking your party?”

“I love it. Thank you again, princess. You know exactly how to make a man feel special.”

“I wouldn’t say that, necessarily, munch. I just wanted to give you what you deserve.” You giggle, shivering lightly as the cool water from the balloons drips off his hair onto your bare shoulder.

“I appreciate it nonetheless, hon. You’re amazing. The bestest friend anyone could dream of having, and yet you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours, Eds. Wouldn’t trade you in for anything.”

“Good, because I think it’s about time you get involved in the party you planned.” He states, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Eddie…what’re you do-OH!” You shriek, cold water dropping over you as he pops a balloon above your head. Thank god you had forgone a white sundress in favor of a darker, floral one.

“You asshole!”

You can’t help but bite back a smile as Eddie laughs, wrapping both arms around your waist in a tight hug. You’re so going to get him back when he’s not expecting it, but for now you’re just going to enjoy being in his arms.

~.~

“Thank you again for coming.” You smile, waving goodbye to the last of Wayne’s friends, some of them arriving late after their morning/afternoon shift ended.

Yours and Eddie’s friends had left about a half hour ago now after the kids were practically falling asleep around the little fire you got going. You didn’t want their parents to worry about them, so you and Eddie got Max over to her trailer, while Nancy drove her brother home. Steve then offered to drive Dustin and Lucas home, but not without another teasing comment whispered in your ear as you hugged him goodbye.

“Was that the last of them?” Eddie questions, coming to stand behind you, a hand on your waist as you watch the older man drive away.

“I believe so. You had a lot of people show up, Eds.”

“Surprisingly, yeah. I would’ve been happy with just you and Wayne, though, you know.”

“I know, but this was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely. Thank you, honey. I really can’t thank you enough.” He sighs, soft smile on his lips as he gently moves to lead the two of you inside.

“You don’t need to thank me, Eds. I wanted to do this for you.”

“Which I still can’t understand. How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“Oh hush up. You’re flattering me again, munch.” You huff, cheeks warm as you try to deflect all the affection being thrown around.

“Because you deserve it. I never pictured myself having such an amazing best friend.”

“I think I’m the one with the amazing best friend, Eds.”

As he chuckles and shakes his head, you let him lead you into the trailer, blinking at the difference in light.

“Careful, princess. Flattery works with me, remember.”

“How could I forget? Go get changed, Eddie. I’ve got one last surprise for you.” You smile, fidgeting with your fingers ever so slightly as the idea of giving him his gift brings about a surge of nervousness.

“Another one? Y/n, you’ve done more than enough. I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. Or so help me god, because I’ve purposely held onto this one for you to open.”

Aside from your stomach doing somersaults, your heart is racing - not only making it difficult to breathe, but making your entire body shake. Although you and Eddie have been friends for years now, you’re worried how he’ll take this gift. It’s a bit more personal and sentimental than anything you’ve ever gifted him, and you’re not sure you could handle him rejecting it.

Eddie frowns as he notices the waver in your voice. You’re nervous, which isn’t necessarily all that unusual, but unusual for when it comes to him.

Grabbing your hands in his, he mindlessly squeezes your fidgeting fingers before sending you a soft smile. This last surprise of yours must be important to you, but he’s not sure what it could possibly be. All he knows is he doesn’t want you to be nervous. Not around him.

“You really didn’t need to, princess, but thank you. You’re too good to me.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet, Eds. How do you know that you don’t hate it?” You almost whine, your nerves getting the better of you.

“Because I don’t need to open it to know I’ll love it. It’s from you, hon, and I love everything you get me.” Eddie smiles, making your cheeks flush with heat as you try to bite back a gleeful, giddy smile.

“Do I absolutely have to change before I can get this last surprise, princess?”

“You don’t have to, but I figured you’d want to get comfy now that everyone’s gone.”

“I want to see whatever this surprise is more. You do realize you can’t tell me you’ve got a surprise and then tell me to go do something else, right? I’m a child, y/n.”

You can’t help but laugh at him as he gives you a wide-eyed, playfully pouted look. He truly is a child at times, but you love him for it.

“Okay, okay. Let me go get it, Eds.”

Watching you disappear down to his room, he can’t help but smile. He will never understand how he got so lucky to have you in his life. While he would love if the two of you could be a little more, he’s happy to have you as his best friend.

How could he not be when you’re as kind and thoughtful and beautiful as you are? He’s not lying when he says that you’re too good to him. No one else would ever consider throwing him a graduation party, let alone get him a birthday and Christmas gift every year. No one else would make sure he’s got something on Valentine’s Day - be it a flower or a goofy card or some candies.

No one else could ever be you, and he’s grateful for that. He’s in love with you, and it doesn’t matter if your love for him is only platonic, because at least you still love him too.

“Okay, I saw these a while ago and really liked them, but I wasn’t sure what you’d think of them. I’m still not sure what you might think of them, but…yeah. I got them.” You ramble, coming out of his room with a small box dressed with a simple ribbon.

“If you liked them, then I’m positive that I’ll like them, but I’ll hold off on an official judgment. Since you apparently have to open stuff up before knowing.” He teases, happy to bring a small smile to your face as you roll your eyes.

“You do! Now…open it.”

There’s no stopping the small chuckle that leaves Eddie lips as you hold the box out for him to take. Carefully grabbing it from your hands, he undoes the bow before letting it freely hang over his hand.

You watch as he glances up at you with a soft smile, and feel your stomach flip while your heart flutters inside your chest. Deep down you know this little gift holds more meaning than simply being best friends, and that’s what makes you so anxious. You haven’t yet decided if you hope he gets the meaning or not.

He finally lifts the lid off the box, and moves the folded tissue paper aside until two beaded bracelets are revealed - one white with a single black bead and the other black with a single white bead.

Eddie stares at the jewelry for a moment, trying to get a handle of his thoughts and emotions. You got him - and presumably you - matching bracelets. While you’ve done soft things for him before, he’s sure this is the softest.

“What do you think? Th-they’re supposed to represent us always being with each other, even if we can’t physically be together.” You question, voice dropping to a murmur as you explain the meaning of them.

“Eddie?”

He’s yet to say anything, and it worries you. Maybe he hates them. Maybe he realizes you like him as more than a friend. Maybe -

Your thoughts are cut off as Eddie kisses you, his lips warm and soft against yours while his hair tickles your cheeks. Although initially surprised, having him kiss you feels right. It’s like this is what the two of you should have always been doing.

“I love them. I love you, honey.” He murmurs, smile on his lips as he pulls away from you the slightest bit.

“Yeah?”

“Thought I just made that obvious, baby. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I only liked you.”

“You’re such an idiot,” you huff, playfully hitting him in the chest.

“…but I guess that’s why I love you.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He chuckles, catching your lips with his once more, this kiss being softer - less rushed.

Once he pulls away, a dopey smile on both your faces, he pulls out the bracelets from the box he’s yet to set down. Looking at both of them in his hands, he can’t help but smile wider. You love him and you got matching bracelets for the two of you. You’re his just as much as he is yours.

“I don’t know when we’ll ever actually be apart, but I still love these, princess. I like knowing I’ve got a piece of your heart.”

You can’t help but shake your head at the metalhead you call your best friend, although there’s no denying that you’re still smiling. He carefully takes your left hand and slides the white bracelet onto your wrists, gently tightening it for you so it doesn’t slide off. Afterwards, he slides his on his right wrist alongside the other few bracelets - usually knitted friendship ones - you’ve given him over the years.

“Thank you for everything today, y/n. For watching me graduate, for the party, for these…I’m glad you were here.” He confesses, playing with your fingers as a smile grows on his lips.

“I wouldn’t have dreamt of being anywhere else, Eds. I know how hard you worked to finally get here. I’m proud of you, and wanted you to feel as loved as you are.”

“Can you say that again?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

There’s no way you couldn’t smile at that. He doesn’t get nearly enough of the love or reassurance you can tell he wants, so you’ll happily be the one to remind him.

“I’m proud of you, Eds, and I love you. So, so much.”

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