there is no proof that greg doesn't say this verbatim in season 4 (yet)

picture of tf:a shockwave standing next to megatron with an arrow pointing to him labeled "lmao this idiot doesn't know his leader would kill him without hesitation if it was convenient for him"

Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏

Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻‍♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))

Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.

You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.

Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!

You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”

It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.

Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.

He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?

“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.

“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.

A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.

“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”

You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.

head in the clouds 💭 | y.jw

synopsis you were enjoying a romantic picnic with your boyfriend in hangang park when all of a sudden a familiar face unexpectedly crashed (into) the date.

genre fluff, oneshot

pairing bf!jungwon x fem reader (feat. jake, niki)

warnings sfw intimacy, physical contact, kissing

wc 752

a/n had such a lovely time writing this one !! jw rly radiates romantic picnic date energy it just felt right ..) hope u enjoy !<3

with a contented sigh, you rolled over onto your back, gazing up at the afternoon sky.

‘aren’t clouds crazy?’ you murmured to the brown-haired boy sat next to you on the gingham picnic blanket. ‘like seriously, there are huge clusters of frozen crystals floating around up there and we’re just going about our lives paying no attention whatsoever,’ when no response followed, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look directly at him.

‘paying no… attention… at all…’ you watched him carefully. he sat not three feet away from where you lay, legs crossed and eyes glued to his phone screen. your words had clearly fallen short of reaching him in any capacity.

‘hey, earth to jungwon? hello???’ you punctuated the words with a prod to his knee.

finally, jungwon looked up. he blinked. ‘huh? oh, sorry, yeah, clouds,’ he scratched his head as he fumbled for the right words. ‘they’re… they’re pretty fluffy-looking. i think i’d quite like to pet a cloud,’ he offered.

another soft blink from those expectant doe eyes, and you had to fight back a smile tugging at your lips. despite giving this resistance your very best effort, you failed.

‘thank you for your insightful contribution to this intellectual discussion,’ you teased, causing his cheeks to flush slightly. ‘what, exactly, is occuring on your phone that’s that more interesting than clouds, then?’

‘erm… well, you.’

his cheeks reddened even more. you shot him a puzzled look. ‘ “me”? how d’you mean?’

in place of a response jungwon simply turned his phone towards you, showing you your own recent instagram post from earlier that day. he smiled shyly down at you.

‘you know, you’re much prettier than a cloud.’

you groaned at the sappy comment, covering your face with your hands, before eventually letting out a little laugh, deciding to embrace the ridiculousness of the whole conversation. ‘i wish i was a cloud,’ you joked.

‘i don’t,’ he pouted, leaning down towards you ever so slightly. ‘i don’t reckon i get to make out with a cloud, you know.’

now it was your turn to blush. ‘oh uh, no, i guess not. i hadn’t really thought about that…’ your voice trailed off as jungwon leaned in further still until his nose almost brushed yours.

‘i’m thinking about it,’ he murmured. before you could come up with a reply he pressed his lips to yours. your lips parted instinctively, moving to kissing him back.

all of a sudden you heard a faint shout from a voice you thought you recognised, and not a second later something came crashing into the side of your leg with force.

the two of you broke out of your kiss abruptly as you let out a surprised cry.

‘hey, watch it!’ jungwon shouted out to the figure jogging over to the two of you.

‘jesus, sorry!’ panted jake as he reached you, stooping to retrieve the rogue football from the picnic blanket. ‘sorry, sorry!! niki booted that one way too hard, totally lost control! i did call out to warn you but you must’ve not heard me,’ he looked down at you, face full of concern. ‘y/n, are you alright?’

sitting up, you nodded. ‘yeah i’m all good,’ you replied. relieved, the boy’s face relaxed.

‘you gotta be more careful jake, you could’ve actually hurt her,’ warned jungwon.

‘i know, i know, it was my bad.’ jake tugged the hair at the nape of his neck, clearly feeling awkward about his blunder.

‘don’t sweat it jake, really. i’m fine, won’s fine,’ you smiled reassuringly at your friend. ‘so no harm done.’ he shot you a grateful smile back, his anxiety seeming to dissipate.

‘y’know, i was gonna come over earlier to see if you guys wanted to join me and niki for a game but you guys looked kinda, uh… busy,’ he grinned sheepishly.

you rolled your eyes, and jungwon groaned, ‘ugh, get out of here already jake!!’

with a wink, and still grinning boyishly, jake turned tail and began to jog away again. after only a few paces however, a thought struck him, and he turned back, about to call your name out again, only to see that the pair of you had wasted absolutely no time at all picking up right where you left off. chuckling to himself, he let the thought go, and headed back.

‘are they gonna come join?’ niki asked as jake approached.

‘nah,’ jake shook his head, smiling. ‘head in the clouds, the pair of them, honestly.’

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

I need to explain why forgetting carl had such a deep impact on rick because there’s this whole other level to it ok bear with me here:

there’s this term used in many different academic fields— anthropology, psychology, history, migration and decolonization, ethics— called memory work. it’s basically the process of remembering the experience of history and the studying of social memory. it’s largely used in relation to migrants who don’t have homes, steady routines, or consistent grounding details to help their memory, so the one space they don’t have to flee from or that hasn’t become “colonized” is their minds. memory is a way of preserving not just personal memory, but social and cultural history.

so the fact that rick can’t remember carl is HUGE. when the dreams stop, that is a big deal. because so much of what they went through as father and son happened when they were effectively displaced from their home by the circumstances of the world. their constant process of migration in the original show probably affected social memory and people’s capacity to remember in really massive ways. plus, rick’s love for carl especially is thematically embedded with ideas of legacy, memory, and the intergenerational transmission of knowledge as motivation for creating a better world. he wanted to make a new world for his son! their relationship was symbolic of the construction of a new civilization and cultural identity. that’s part of why rick grimes was so revered and admired, because his memory work helped forge a new identity and home that everyone could ground themselves in.

but then rick gets to the CRM, where there is a consistent routine, confinement to a specific place, a value on sameness and cohesion from obedience, and an isolation from these sort of “cultural” objects or artefacts that might help jog his memory of carl (familiar places like ASZ, carl’s handprints on the porch, judith’s drawings of their family, carl’s letter to rick, etc.). this means that the CRM effectively tried to destroy rick’s capacity for memory for 8 years.

he performed memory work to resist, by getting the faces of his loved ones drawn onto phone screens, writing letters to michonne and judith, keeping any possessions from ASZ that he could. but the chaotic outside world he travelled through under extreme, stressful circumstances becomes harder to carry with him when he’s being presented with an environment so sturdy and consistent that denies him contact with anything to preserve his memory of history.

so effectively, the CRM and the way their city is set up uses tactics one would see in brainwashing and the formation of cults or colonial projects. the CRM relies on separation of families and the destruction of memory to succeed.

this isn’t just rick being worn down and losing his spine. it’s deeper than that. it is the erasure of his social and cultural memory of the apocalypse and of alexandria. and carl grimes was the first price that had to be paid.

I found out that Bowser was going to be meaner in the Mario movie and that they made him more likable in the final move.

Like Bowser in the final movie tries to destroy the mushroom kingdom and preform a ritualistic sacrifice, hold Luigi to later kill to make Mario suffer, his love for Peach is faker than plastic, he treats his minions like trash.

Like outside of being funny Bowser has no good qualities, and I can only think about how he would have been.

Yeah, I remember reading somewhere that figuring out his personality was one of the most difficult parts of writing the script, and they kept making him too much like a "Marvel Villain" (or something along those lines.)

They definitely went the right direction by leaning into the "hopeless romantic" angle and playing up his insecurities. The way he fawns awkwardly over his crush? writes shallow romantic ballads while imagining her swooning? nervously rehearses one-liners? If that was all it was, it'd be adorable!

You see the seeds of what could have been good qualities. His sensitivity could've garnered compassion and his determination could've made him a good ruler rather than a good conquerer. It's the fact that he's both unable to accept "no" in any capacity and makes his personal insecurities the responsibility of everyone around him that make him so scary.

He obsesses over what he can't have and enjoys nothing more than the utter destruction of anything that dares to stand in his way, hence the weird adoring/vengeful behavior he exhibits toward Princess Peach. Peach is both something he wants and the thing telling him "no," and as a result he wants to take ownership of her and tear her down simultaneously... marrying her amidst a mass slaughter of her old allies and destroying her kingdom the moment she resists.

He is both terrifying and pathetic, so wrapped up in himself he can't see that he's a black hole of desires, constantly destroying his own chances at happiness in pursuit of an idealized version of validation. He's somewhat likable because you can relate to his vulnerability, and the way he awkwardly fumbles with his own romantic feelings is incredibly entertaining, but boy oh boy he is not anything close to a good person.

A Royal Pain In The Ass

Yandere Male Alpha x Male Omega Reader (CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, INCEST, non-con, male reader, a/b/o, ass eaten like it is groceries, blowjob, marking, biting, knotting, musk, general yandere behavior, necromancy, assassination, minor character death, angst, pain, violent sex, breeding, forced feminization, size difference) Word Count: 2.9k (This is probably the worst thing I have ever written, but I think I covered all the appropriate warnings. Sorry for any mistakes I did proofread, but I did not have this beta read.)

Your father, King Esmer, had been among the wisest and most powerful kings in all the world. He had led decisive victories in war, chosen brilliant advisors, and knew when to rule kindness and when to rule with a bit of a sterner hand. Overall he had been much loved by all the classes and had truly united his kingdom, alphas, betas, and omegas alike. But as he grew older many in the royal court began to fear that your brother, Prince Vairthold, would become a tyrant of a monarch. He had always been a bit of a demanding brat, but as he grew so too did his arrogance and entitlement, and when he presented as an alpha he became an accomplished warrior, his powerful muscles and keen instinct allowing him to become a terror on the field. It did nothing to staunch the growth of his ego. Your father could not see it, as blinded as he was by denial and love for his first born, so he would not hear of it when his advisors wanted him to choose another heir. Perhaps one more malleable and temperate such as you, his younger son, an omega. “He will grow into the role,” he would always say, “I had to learn and change a lot too when I first started. Besides, most lords just would not accept an omega ruler.” And that would be the end of the discussion. But once Esmer had passed his successor wasted no time in changing how things were to be done. They were, in the grand scheme of things, very minor changes at first. Statues built, mundane orders carried out, nothing too unusual or threatening. But within months your older sibling allowed a dark sorcerer in the court in a high advisory position. Dark magic was not something that had been allowed in any capacity previously, but your brother had searched long to create someone to place in this position. When he finally had the magic user that he so desired he became not just arrogant and demanding, but colder and crueler as well. He did not go out slaughtering people, though laws did become more draconian, with several inmates disappearing in the dead quiet of night. He also revoked many of the laws and rights that omegas had previously enjoyed under his predecessors, making them basically under the ownership of their alpha or beta relatives unless they were single and had no family. You, being an omega yourself, were almost never allowed out of your brother’s sight, even being forced to stay in his bedroom. The only time you were not with him was when he was off in the darkness of night consorting with his dark advisor, and even then he left the bulkiest beta knights he could find to guard the door and make sure you had zero chance of escape. Your older sibling had always been far too possessive over you, some people, including your late father, might have mistaken his behavior as merely how a protective alpha is supposed to act around their smaller omega family members. But you knew better, you could tell there was something impure about the way you caught him leering at you, something off about how he had kept away any and all courters, something wicked in the way his expression changed when you were in heat and he caught a whiff of your scent. He had never been particularly mean to you, perhaps a bit of bullying here and there, but ever since he had changed the laws and the status of omegas he had been a lot more gruff with you. Not tolerating any dissent. If you resisted he would not hesitate to slap you across the face, but if you cooperated and did not complain he would often reward you with little gifts for your good behavior. Over time you learned never to complain, and so far nothing terrible had happened, but you did not trust his intentions at all. You dreaded to think what would happen if you had your heat now when he was always so close. He had not just forced you to sleep in his bedroom but to make a nest for yourself there too. You knew what it implied and you did not like it one bit. But a few months into his rule, as he started ignoring his court less and less, right as your heat was starting, he died. He was assassinated in his sleep. You were not involved at all in his murder, how could you be when you were constantly under the watch of him or his guards, but you did not raise a huge fuss over it either. You had been freed. Just in time. But it was only a delay of the inevitable. Soon after you had been crowned all those who had been involved with the assassination died, one by one. It was as if there had been some curse on the act of killing your brother and there was fear and dismay among the court and kingdom as a whole. You had never really been raised to rule, you mostly went by the advice of your council, they may have been using you as a puppet king to talk through, but they were good honest people who had wanted the best for the kingdom. With so few of them left you were buckling under the weight of your responsibility. But it would not be yours for long. After the last traitor of your sibling had been done away with, a few months into your reign and right as your heat was starting again, your brother and his wizard, who had gone missing after your brother’s murder, came sauntering into the castle, right in front of the throne as you were holding publicly addressing the problems of your lower-born subjects. There were whispers and murmurs among the guard and the present nobles. He looked different, blueish grey skin, dark rings around his now violet eyes, and his bright blonde hair had faded a bit, but he was still unmistakable as anyone but Vairthold. The deceased king. You, and everyone else present, were shocked and speechless. Had he faked his death? Why did he look so odd? Terror and hopelessness filled your heart as you knew immediately he had been responsible for the deaths of those involved in the plot against him and you were sure you would be next. He ordered the guards to remove everyone from the room except you. They hesitated briefly but decided that if your brother was not dead, and he seemingly had the ability to kill anyone who had tried to stand against him, then he was still their rightful king and they better be quick about following his orders. Vairthold smirked at you as they did his bidding while slowly approaching you, causing you to slink back against the throne with your arms in front of you protectively. The guards had left along with his magic using companion, so you were alone with him and he could do whatever he wanted with you. He wordlessly plucked the crown from your trembling form and placed it atop his head instead. “Awe, don’t be scared, little prince. I was mad at you for not avenging me, but I know you are just a weakling little omega doing what you were told. I am sorry I left you like I did, you must have been so terrified, but I wanted to become a lich, and I had to get rid of all those who would have stopped me.” You could not bear to meet his gaze, your lip trembled in fear, and your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. A lich was an immortal abomination made of magic that few believed in. If he truly was one then this couldn’t get any worse. Except it could, because under all the fear and anxiety there was another scent that had just graced your brother’s nostrils. Your heat. He began nuzzling his nose at your neck and underarms. In a rare act of defiance, perhaps forgetting exactly what he was for a moment, you tried to push away his head with all your might but he just chuckled and pinned your hands to the side. He had never been this brazen before. “It’s good that you’re feisty sometimes, shows that you’re strong, bet you’ll make us lots of strong heirs. I’ll forgive you for being uncooperative this time, putting you in front of subjects today when you’re in heat is bound to make your head a bit off. I should kill them all.” At his mention of heirs you redoubled your efforts to push him off, to somehow wiggle out of his grip, there was no way you could let this monster put anything inside of you. “N-no, this is my throne n-now! Y-y-you have to stop!” It was a pathetic display really, but a bit surprising coming from you. He smacked you with enough force to sting, but you knew he was not really trying to hurt you, just trying to remind you of your place. “Awe, that’s too cute, if you wanted the throne all you had to do was ask~ I will let you use it later.” He quickly disrobed and ripped off all of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath his hungry gaze. All your squirming and panicked pleas did nothing to stop him bending down and assaulting your neck with sloppy licks and kisses. You could smell the musk practically radiating off of him, it was making you dizzy, his smell had never interested you in the slightest and it still didn’t You could tell by his pheromones that he was a virile and fertile alpha, in any other alpha it may be attractive, but it only made your brother more terrifying. He did not have the same opinion of your scent, it had been driving him wild for years, but now was the first time he could freely indulge himself. He alternated between sniffing and licking your underarms and neck, he had longed for this for years and no one could stop him now. After making sure that you both utterly reeked of one another, he got between your legs on the ground in front of the throne and put your legs over his shoulder. Your mind felt distressed to the core, but your body had different plans, you could not control how it reacted. Especially when under the direct affections of such a powerful alpha during heat. You felt disgusted with yourself when you realized your cock was rock hard and felt slick start to leak out onto the throne beneath you, but your brother was thrilled. The smell emanating from your desperate little virgin hole was divine and he wasted no time at all in pulling your ass close to his face and sliding his tongue right in. The flavor was even better, so full of your pheromones, the taste was so intimately yours and he knew he was the only one that ever had or ever would get the chance to savor it. It was a royal treasure that only he and he alone was worthy enough for. A small involuntary moan escaped your attempt at stifling it and encouraged him to keep going. You really couldn’t help it, you were so grossed out, scared, and overstimulated that you were crying even as you instinctively spread your legs wider for him to get better access. You could feel his warm tongue sliding all around your entrance, stretching and warming it up. He pulled his face away from your ass and sniffed and licked at your precious little nuts, they were so tiny and delicate, unlike his big alpha balls. The scent you had there drove him wild. He started sucking on them before licking up your relatively small shaft and sucking your cock until he felt you buck into his mouth and cum all over his tongue. He moaned softly as he swallowed it all down. “I’m disgusting. That was wrong,” you muttered under your breath as you stared blankly at nothing in particular. “How could someone so sweet and perfect be disgusting? How could you think something that felt so good could possibly be wrong? Don’t worry princess, I know something that will feel so good you won’t even be able to form thoughts like that~” That was enough to jolt you from your post-orgasmic daze and revulsion, as your brother leaned over you, greedy hands busy groping and caressing up and down your sides. “I’m not a princess!!” You shrieked as you rocketed upwards from the throne and headbutt your lustful sibling as hard as you could. The unexpected impact caused even a large alpha such as himself to stumble backwards. You did not waste a fraction of a second to exploit the opening and started to get up past him. But he was no stranger to physical combat and knew how to recover quickly. He grabbed your arm and pulled you over to himself with great force. He sat on the cushioned throne and lifted you easily, forcing you to face him as you straddled his lap. When you felt the force with which he was grabbing you and saw the violence in his eyes as a small trickle of blood flowed from his nose you immediately regret assaulting him. “Let me be VERY clear, I am the king. And you ARE my princess. And when we are married you WILL be my queen. And there is nothing you can do about it.” You instinctively whimpered softly at the anger of the bristling alpha. He ignored it and focused on putting you in your place, submitting to him and impaled on his cock. Vairthold lifted you up and slammed you down on his cock. You screamed loud as it stretched and hurt in ways you had not conceived of. You knew he had stretched you. You knew there would certainly be blood. Even your slick couldn’t make this painless when he was driving into you so forcefully while you were so tense. “This could have been a lot easier on you, but you wanted to play rough!” With his hands gripping your sides painfully he lifted you up and slammed you back down on his dick repeatedly, thrusting upwards into you each time for added force. With each thrust you whimpered and yelped out in pain, your mind breaking a bit by bit. It felt like you were being stabbed. His nails began digging in, bruising your sensitive flesh as he only escalated the force he was using, you thought you were going to pass out, you even began to welcome it. “Puh-plea-ease, p-please. I’m s-s-sorry. I’ s-sorry. I-I’m sorry.” You sniffled and stammered, tears and snot running unattractively down your face, though your “partner” didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Say... You’re... My... Princess…” He spat each word through gritted teeth, emphasizing each by painfully pulling you down on his cock. “I-i’m your p-pr-prin-ce-cessss.” You struggled to form the words but once you had the change was immediate. He began slowing down to a much more merciful pace before pulling your trembling form close to him. It was still extremely painful, given the abuse your hole had just endured, but you tried to not focus on it. You could not bear to look at him so you just buried your crying face into his chest instead. Vairthold took this as a sign that you were willingly seeking comfort from him as your alpha so he slowed down a bit more. As he slowly slid his cock in and out of you, a mixture of slick with a bit of blood leaking down his shaft, he licked, kissed, and nuzzled the sensitive scent gland on your neck to try to comfort you. You had hurt him, but you had submitted to your king, so you didn’t deserve anymore pain. “You’re being such a good girl for me, I am gonna put so many babies in that belly.” You sobbed a bit louder but made no movements against him. He stroked your back soothingly as his knot swelled up inside you, tying the both of you together right before his cock spasmed and began filling you up with seed. As he came he bit down on your neck hard, officially marking you as his mate. By the mercy of the gods you finally passed out, sparing you the pain of being conscious while tied to your alpha. King Vairthold licked your neck clean of the blood he had just drawn and cuddled you protectively, his instincts telling him to keep his mate safe at all costs. When his knot finally allowed him to, he slid out of your ass before bundling you up and carrying upstairs to your private chambers. He cleaned you off carefully and laid you in your bed, before sliding in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. As he lay there with his princess in his arms he could scarcely wait for the preparations to turn you into a lich to be completed. He was going to keep you with him for all eternity.

Where to Sign?

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff

Words count: 600

Summary: Seungcheol is about to sign the pre when you said this thing to him

Seungcheol, just like any average person, dedicated his days to working for eight hours or even more before finally returning home. But whenever you paid a visit to his place, he dispelled the tired notion of coming back drained, and you tending to him. Even as a regular human, he took it upon himself to treat you like royalty. Craving a movie marathon? He's all in! Hankering for a meticulously prepared three-hour homemade steak? He's all yours! Caught eyeing yet another ice cream flavor after already picking one? He'd buy you the entire supermarket if that's what you wanted. Ensuring your happiness and making sure you loved every moment was his top priority.

If ever his colleagues caused him trouble at work, a simple text from you could light up his day:

'I'll visit your apartment!'

Just the sight of you cooking dinner or playing with Kkuma was enough to dispel his weariness and worries. He cherished every moment with you and wanted to make sure you felt the same.

"You're preparing a week's worth of meals? That's incredibly thoughtful. My girlfriend truly is the sweetest person in the world," he declared, observing the array of food containers arranged on the counter.

Seungcheol's eyes widened with delight when he spotted ribeye on the menu. He couldn't resist wrapping his arms around you in a tight back hug. "Could you stop making me fall for you even harder?"

Coming to his place wasn't solely about meeting him; it was about reveling in Seungcheol's impeccable kitchen. You had voiced this sentiment to him before, leading to playful banter. He teased you, suggesting you chose him because of his nice kitchen, and though you agreed in jest, it earned him a day of mock sulking.

Cooking in his kitchen was a pleasure you relished, even preferring it to your own. The spaciousness allowed you to move comfortably. Seungcheol, however, couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation that you always insisted on paying for groceries, even when he offered his card.

"Why won't you use my card?" he asked once, bewildered. Your response left him speechless, "Because I have money? I can even afford you, Choi Seungcheol."

He admired your confidence immensely.

"How was your day?" you inquired, simultaneously seasoning the food you were preparing. Seungcheol marveled at your ability to multitask. He could never.

Seungcheol tightened his embrace around you. "Mingyu managed to blow up a computer. Guess who has to foot the bill?" His voice held a touch of tension.

"Wait, did I hear that correctly? He exploded a computer?" you asked, incredulous.

Seungcheol nodded, his tone wry. "Indeed. He 'exploded' it and claimed it was a mere accident. Once again, he's demonstrated his capacity to exceed my expectations."

A chuckle escaped you, memories of your first encounter with Seungcheol and Mingyu surfacing. Back then, Mingyu was Seungcheol's assistant manager, and he'd mistakenly informed Seungcheol of a meeting with you a week earlier than scheduled.

"I'm sorry, hyung. I misread the schedule. You have no meeting today," Mingyu had confessed.

Promotion to branch manager hadn't diminished Mingyu's ability to surprise Seungcheol.

"Why are you footing the bill for him? Isn't the office's finance department responsible for him?" you wondered, referring to Mingyu's financial team.

Seungcheol sighed. "They've poured a significant amount into a project I already approved. Plus, he insists that we're together because of him, effectively putting me in a lifelong debt."

You turned off the stove and pivoted to face him. Your arms linked around his neck, your gaze locked onto his. A radiant smile graced your lips, a sight Seungcheol cherished from up close. The silence between you two spoke volumes, a shared moment of comfort.

"What's on your mind, sweetie?" Seungcheol whispered, arms secure around you.

You giggled. "Are you looking to spend your life with me?" you asked, alluding to his earlier remark about the 'debt' Mingyu claimed.

Seungcheol nodded, gaze unwavering. "Absolutely, baby," he affirmed, and you rewarded him with a tender kiss.

Turning back to the counter, you arranged the ribeye alongside rice and stir-fried vegetables. Seungcheol seated himself at the bar, eyeing the food with anticipation.

"I'm going to savor every bite," he declared.

You hummed in agreement. "So will I," you replied, your culinary skills not lost on Seungcheol.

"Spending a lifetime with you," you added, a sentence that instantly turned Seungcheol's world upside down.

*

Boo Seungkwan stood before the anxious man, his tone gentle yet regretful. "I'm afraid that you could meet Ms. Ji today. Her schedule is packed, and I couldn't find your name."

Seungcheol's heart sank, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "It's definitely today, can you please make sure to check with her once again?" He almost begged, desperation evident in his eyes. The pressure from the company directors bore down on him, forcing him into a situation he'd rather avoid.

"Hello, Ms. Nam," Seungkwan's voice echoed down the line, "there's someone looking for Ms. Ji from SVT Corporation... His name is Choi Seungcheol..."

A tense pause hung in the air as Ms. Nam, whom Seungcheol assumed to be Ms. Ji's secretary or assistant, exchanged words with Seungkwan. Seungcheol held his breath, silently praying that they'd grant him the chance to meet Ms. Ji.

"Mr. Choi, are you the representative for Universe Factory Studio?" The question was met with an immediate, eager nod from Seungcheol.

Seungkwan concluded the call, his expression softening with a hint of sympathy. "Mr. Choi, please wait in our lounge. Ms. Ji's representative will be with you shortly."

Seungcheol suppressed a victorious shout, maintaining his composure as he politely excused himself and made his way to the designated waiting area.

"Mr. Choi?" A woman approached, her demeanor professional yet warm. "I'm Nam Y/n, Ms. Ji's personal assistant. I'm truly sorry for the confusion earlier, but I believe there's been a miscommunication."

Seungcheol's heart sank further as her words unfurled. "Ms. Ji is in a meeting with a client from Japan, and she can't leave it. I had already informed Mr. Kim that the meeting was scheduled for next Wednesday. I'm afraid you won't be able to meet Ms. Ji today."

Seungcheol's frustration boiled beneath the surface, a muffled curse escaping his lips. Kim Mingyu, that idiot.

Lonely for the First Time Ever

Jack x Reader

TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness

Content: GN!Reader

Word Count: 3317

Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.

You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.

“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.

“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.

You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.

“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.

“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.

“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.

“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.

“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.

“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.

“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.

“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.

“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”

Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.

You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.

“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.

“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.

“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.

“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.

“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.

“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.

“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off

“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.

“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.

Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves

“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.

Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.

“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.

“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.

“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.

The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.

Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.

“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.

“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.

“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.

“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.

“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.

“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.

“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.

“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.

“Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.

“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 23

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Last chapter: 01/31

Word Count: 7.8K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

You pulled off into the grass in front of Eddie’s uncle’s trailer. The small driveway was already filled to capacity with the monstrous truck and the oversized van. Your eyes roamed over the small dwelling with trepidation, wondering once again why in the hell you'd agreed to this, why you were the one who was coming to talk to him. Anyone else had to be a better option than you. 

You'd only known each other a little over a month. Eddie clearly didn’t trust you yet, at least not completely. He definitely didn’t trust you enough to tell you what was haunting him night after night. What would make any of them think that he would be open to spilling his innermost thoughts and fears with you? What could possibly make them believe that you would be the one to get through to him? 

Your arms came to rest on top of the steering wheel, forehead pressed against them as you tried to muster up enough courage to get out of the damn car. Because the minute you did so, the moment the two of you came face-to-face, Eddie was presented with the opportunity to end things, to tell you it was over. If you just stayed in the safety of this car, this little car that he’d so sweetly fixed up for you, then you could stay ignorant. If he didn’t get the chance to end things, then you remained in limbo. 

And you were convinced that was exactly what he would do if given the chance. How many times had he reiterated that the two of you were a bad idea? He was going to run from you as fast and as far as he could, convinced that he didn’t deserve this, didn’t earn the right to be happy, that he was doomed for the rest of his life because of circumstances beyond his control. How would you ever get him to see how wrong he was? What could you say or do to show him how very much he not only deserved happiness, but the entire world?

In such a short time, Eddie had elicited feelings within you, feelings that were stronger and deeper than anything you'd ever felt before. A veritable roller coaster of intense emotions that came out of nowhere and swept you off her feet. It was a wild ride, one you couldn’t stop whether you wanted to or not. If someone would have asked you a few months ago if it was possible to fall in love with someone in just a few weeks, you would have laughed in their face but here you were, completely head over heels.

And that was the problem, that was why you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of this car. Because, ridiculous though it may be, you were already in too deep. The waves were crashing over your head, you didn’t know up from down, swirling in the mass of darkness that was Eddie. The very thought of him ending things, of never looking into those whiskey depths you wanted to drown in, of never running your fingers through those delicious waves, of never being held in those deceivingly strong arms, knocked the wind right out of you. You had already suffered one heartbreak and you'd survived. But you weren't sure if you would make it through losing Eddie. 

How could losing a relationship that lasted thirteen years possibly hurt less than one that had been going on for a few weeks? You didn’t know. There wasn’t a single rational explanation for it. You could never put it into words because you didn’t understand it yourself but there it was. Losing Eddie would hurt worse than losing Cam ever had and whether it was crazy or not, it was the truth. 

Jesus Christ. What were you going to do? What were you going to say? You had been racking your brain the entire ride over here, trying to think up some magic words that would make Eddie see how wrong he was, how wrong this town was. A guy like him didn’t belong in a small town like this, where the people were small-minded, ignorant, set in their antiquated ways of thinking. It wasn’t his fault that he was surrounded by people who couldn’t look beyond clothes and hair to see the good person underneath it all. 

He wasn’t a monster. Eddie Munson was the farthest thing from a monster you could find. He was soft, sweet, nerdy, empathetic, and thoughtful. He put on this armor that was him being a jerk to try to protect himself but that’s all it was, just a thin shell he used to keep people out. Underneath all of that, he was just a little boy that wanted to be loved, that wanted to matter, that wanted acceptance. Was that really such an awful thing to want?

A light rapping on your car window had you jumping with a shriek. Hands clutching your chest, you looked over to see Uncle’s Wayne’s weathered face, a kind smile, and amused eyes peering at you. He chuckled softly, holding both hands up. You released a slow breath of embarrassment at having been startled so easily, reaching for the handle and cranking the window down. 

“Sorry ‘bout that sweetheart. I didn’t mean to startle you or nothing. I just happened to step out for a smoke and saw you sitting in here with your head down. I waited for a bit but when you weren’t getting out, I started to get a bit worried. You okay?”

“Yeah. I actually came to talk to Eddie.”

“Well, you’ll have to get out of that car if you want to do that because I can tell you right now, he ain’t coming out here. I’ve been trying to talk some sense into him all morning but that boy is more stubborn than a damn mule. He don’t want to listen to nothing.”

“Well, then maybe I should just head home. If he’s not listening to you, he’s definitely not going to listen to me.”

Wayne straightened, taking a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes moving to the trailer and then back to you, “Now, I don’t know about that. I have a feeling my nephew might be more inclined to listen to his pretty girlfriend than his old uncle. He’s convinced I don’t know what I’m talking about, like he’s the first one to be tarnished with the name Munson in this town.”

“You too? I guess I just thought that people thought that stuff about him because of his dad.”

“Yeah, well, where do you think my brother learned it?” A long plume of smoke fell from his lips, his hip coming to lean on the side of the car. “My dad was a thief. Cars just like my brother. He’d sell them to this guy at a chop shop for the parts. He taught us how to hotwire at a young age. Well, one day he stole the wrong car off the wrong guy. This guy happened to keep a pistol under his seat and caught my dad right between the eyes.”

“Oh my god…I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

Wayne shrugged, “Well, when you choose the criminal life, you choose the consequences that come with that. Anyway, my mom struggled being all on her own. She worked two jobs just to make ends meet but we still got evicted from our house. She bought a trailer in this shitty park because it’s what she could afford and that’s where we grew up. Don’t think the kids in this place were any nicer then than they are now.”

“Are they ever?”

“True. We were the trailer park trash, you know. Our mom had to shop at thrift stores so we were always wearing whatever she could get for cheap. It was often too big so we could wear it for a while before she had to buy more. Sometimes our stuff had holes she’d try to mend or stains she hadn’t been able to get out in the wash. We always packed our lunch. Nothing fancy. Just some bologna on Wonder Bread. Maybe some pretzels if she could swing it. But those kids teased us something fierce. White trash, trailer park trash, Oliver Twist, bums…and the shit they said about our mom…” He sighed, shaking his head, those kind eyes saddened as painful memories revisited him. “Anyway, my brother refused to live that life anymore. He swore he would make himself a bunch of money and get out of here. But then he met Ed’s mom and she got pregnant. I tried to tell him that he needed to grow up and get his shit together, to be a father, someone his son could be proud of. But he had it in his head that the only way to make his son proud was to make lots of money. Clearly, he didn’t learn anything because he went down the same exact path our dad had. And then Ed’s mom…it was just too hard for her. She wasn’t strong like my mom. I tried to help her but she was too far gone. She couldn’t…I’ll never forgive myself for letting that boy see the things he did.”

“That’s not your fault,” you assured him, your hand slipping through the window to rest on the older man’s arm. “Eddie told me you tried to take him but she wouldn’t let you. There was nothing you could do without going through the proper channels. You could have wound up in jail if you’d just taken him. Even if it would have been the best thing for him, it would still have been kidnapping.”

“Yeah. I know. But I knew she was heading down a dark road. I knew he wasn’t safe. I went and talked to a lawyer but money was tight for me too, you know? It wasn’t a fast road because I had to save a bit up so I could afford the fees. I just wasn’t fast enough.”

“You saved him. Eddie thinks the world of you. You’re the one person who has always been there for him, who has always had his back, who has always believed in him. You’re everything to him. That’s why I don’t think he’ll listen to anything I say. If he won’t listen to you, he’s definitely not going to listen to me.”

“Now, I don’t know about that,” Wayne countered, tossing his Marlboro on the ground before grinding it down with his foot. “You’ve brought about a change in my boy, a change I haven’t seen in too long. To be frank, a change that means more to me than just about anything in this world. He’s been unhappy…hell, he’s not even been living since all that nonsense with those murders. He’s just been going through the motions for a long time. Ever since he saw that girl die and this town wasted no time accusing him for it, he’s not been the same. Ed was sad for a long time after his mom but he always had this…this spark about him, I guess. He was animated. Boy could not tell a story without his hands getting involved in the telling too. He was loud as hell, always playing on that guitar or yelling about something, talked a mile a minute, that kid. I had trouble keeping up half the time. He could be downright obnoxious. Back then I would have given anything for him to be quiet for just a little while. But after everything, I would have sold my soul to get that rowdy kid back. You did that.”

“I didn’t do anything, not really,” you insisted, shaking your head. Your fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, gripping it tight as a shadow moved behind the curtain in the trailer. Eddie. He was right there, so close, and your body pulled toward him, compelling you to go to him but you stayed rooted in your seat, your fear winning. 

“Don’t sell yourself short there, darling. I saw it from the moment he brought you here to look at that old car. Which, by the way, he did a hell of a job on. I hardly recognized it. Took me a moment to realize who was sitting outside my place. But the way he looked at you, I ain’t never seen that boy look at anything like that before, not even that damn guitar and his eyes lit up like firecrackers when he opened that thing.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, your hand coming up to nervously brush your hair behind your ear, “Now I know you’re seeing things because he was mad at me that day. I asked if this was where he grew up and he got bristly, expecting me to judge him.”

“No. He got bristly because he liked you and he feared you’d look down on him like everyone else once you knew his past. That boy looked at you like you were the sun, like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I knew you were something special right then.”

“I don’t think that’s…”

Wayne held up his hand, skin worn from years of hard labor just inches from your face, “You need to stop thinking so hard. I’ve known that boy his whole life and I know what I saw. Ed hasn’t ever brought a girl around here. Trust me. You’re something special and a girl like that, when a man feels a certain kind of way about her, that girl can convince him to do just about anything.” Grabbing onto the handle, Wayne pulled open the car door. “So, you think you’re ready to go in there and give it a shot? Maybe do what I couldn’t? I’d sure appreciate it.”

Blue eyes that you just couldn’t bring yourself to disappoint begged you to try. You had two choices. You could tell him no, drive out of here, and hope someone else reached Eddie. But what would he think if you just avoided him? Would he assume that you didn’t want him? That you believed all that bullshit about him? No. You couldn’t let him think that. 

So, choice number two it was. You had to push back all the fear of what could happen, walk into that trailer, and tell him who he was. Tell him the man you saw, the man you wanted, the man you loved. Maybe you didn’t use that word just yet. The man had enough scares for a lifetime in the last twenty-four hours. Your irrationally intense feelings could wait. No reason to make him leave an Eddie shaped hole in the side of the trailer as he tried to run from your insanity. 

“Alright,” you finally said softly. “I’ll try but I’m not making any promises.”

“Not asking you to, but listen.” His hand came to rest on your shoulder, even more lines appearing on his forehead as he furrowed his brow. “Don’t you let my nephew push you away, okay? He’s gonna try. I know he is because he’s just as stubborn as I am. But he don’t mean a damn word of whatever bullshit he’s going to spout at you about why you shouldn’t be with him. He’s gonna think it’s for your own good. But if you care for him the way I think you do, push right back.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile, your hand covering his, “That’s the plan.”

“You in this for the long haul, honey?”

“I’d like to be. Eddie…” Your lips pressed together, wet emotion clinging to your lashes. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about him and I was with my ex for a long time. I can’t explain it. I know it’s nuts. We haven’t known each other that long but I…well, I am crazy about him. And I don’t want to lose him.”

“Then don’t and nothing you said is crazy. Maybe that other guy, your ex, wasn’t the one you were supposed to be with. Maybe your heart just recognized the person who completed it when it saw him. Maybe it looked and went, this is what was missing. Because, I gotta tell you, I think you’re what was missing for my boy.”

You grinned, teeth showing, at the older man’s words. You'd never thought of it like that. Could that be how it worked? Cam clearly had not been the right choice. If he had been, he wouldn’t have strayed because you would have been enough for him. Could it be that something within you, your heart or soul or whatever it was, saw him and went, oh there you are. It recognized him, as if he were the piece that it needed to be complete. Could that be why your feelings for him were so strong, so fast?

“He’s definitely the piece I’ve been missing,” you told him. 

“Then maybe it’s time you tell him that,” Wayne called over his shoulder as he ambled toward his truck, pulling open the door and climbing up into the driver’s seat. 

“Where are you going?”

“Well, damndest thing, I just remembered that 8 Ball is almost out of cat food. Think I would have thought of that earlier.”

Throwing you a wink, his hand giving a short wave out of the window, elbow resting on the frame, Wayne backed out and drove away, leaving you standing in front of the trailer. There was no way he just randomly decided to get cat food. He was trying to give you some privacy for this conversation with Eddie. Maybe he just didn’t want to be there when Eddie crushed you or lost his shit on you for being too pushy. Either way, you were on her own now. 

Taking a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever outcome awaited you, you turned to face the trailer. A long shadow appeared behind the curtain, disappearing and reappearing just as quickly, an anxious body pacing. Would that anxiety cause him to push you away, to get rude and nasty the way he’d done so many times? Maybe but there was no turning back now. You'd given Wayne your word and something about that man would not let you go back on it. You didn’t want to disappoint him. 

Slow steps up to the door. Step. Inhale. Step. Exhale. Step. Inhale. Step. Exhale. You could do this. You could be what Eddie needed you to be. You could make him see. You knew all the facts now. You knew what he’d been through. No more secrets. No walls between them, concealing everything that was hurting him. He could talk openly to you about everything he’d been through and you could listen. You could be whatever he needed you to be, do whatever he needed you to do. 

Raising your hand, you knocked on the door gently but firmly. You barely got in one knock before the door was wrenched open, revealing the face you'd been longing to see ever since the moment he’d been led away from you in the jail. 

“The door wasn’t locked, old man,” Eddie began, stopping when he realized the person knocking was not his uncle. His head dropped, fingers gripping the frame of the door, a soft groan escaping his lips, letting you know he was less than pleased to find you there. “Prom Queen, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His bottom lip was swollen, his tongue playing over the scab from where it had been split. His eye was a dark shade of violet along with his cheek. A butterfly bandage sat over his eyebrow where the skin had also been split in the fight with Andy. 

You stepped toward him, your hand reaching for his face, every part of you aching to comfort him. As if this man needed any more scars or injuries. You were pretty sure the bats and the freaky science fiction shit that you'd just learned about had given him more than his fair share. But as you opened your arms, needing to feel him close to you, he took a step back, his hands held out as if fending you off. 

There it was, a physical barrier to match the invisible one he was quickly assembling around his heart. Armor to keep you out, to protect himself from getting hurt again. But the last thing that you wanted to do was hurt him. All you wanted was to make every single injury, both internal and external, better. You wanted to heal every bruise. To give him something good, something that he deserved, probably more than most after what he’d been willing to sacrifice to save a town that hated him. 

“Eddie, please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t shut me out,” you pleaded, your hands dropping to your sides as you stepped into the trailer and closed the door behind you. Maybe he could shut down on you but he wasn’t going to make you leave, not until you'd had your say. “Don’t put up that wall again. Don’t tell me that we shouldn’t be together.”

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, hair tumbling around his shoulders as he shook his head with annoyance. “Princess, are you delusional? I attacked a man. I would have killed Andy if Harrington hadn’t stopped me. I was headed to jail, which is probably where I belong. I mean, it is what us Munsons do. It’s where this whole town figured I would end up, anyway.”

“You don’t belong in jail, Eddie.”

“Then where does a monster belong?”

You leapt at him, grabbing onto both of his arms, the warmth of his biceps seeping through the thin cotton, heating your palms. You felt your entire body relax just a bit, relieved to finally have him close enough to touch. 

He jerked and then stopped, two pairs of eyes so full of pain that you could drown in it. He was drowning in it, drowning in all the doubts he’d ever had about himself that had been thrust to the surface. A man who struggled to believe there was anything good in him after so many years of being told there wasn’t. 

“You are not a monster,” you stated, trying to convey how much you believed that with your eyes. “You are a good man. You would not have killed Andy. I know you wouldn’t have. He’s been tormenting you for years. He grabbed me. You reacted because you were defending me, defending yourself. Years of torment and pain took over in that moment and nobody can blame you for that. If this town knew what you’d done for them, none of them would have a bad thing to say about you.”

Eddie’s head tipped, eyes narrowing, sweet little lines appearing between his eyebrows, “What do you know about it?”

“Everything,” you told him, feeling like a ten ton truck had been removed from your chest, no longer being crushed under all the secrets, all the information you didn’t have. It was a barrier that had been removed from between them. “After you got arrested, everyone talked and decided that I needed to know what had happened. All of it.”

“All of it?” he questioned, disbelief etched within his features. 

“I think so. I know about the lab, Eleven’s powers, the Upside Down, the Mind Flayer, Vecna, how you saved everyone with your guitar playing skills, how you put yourself at risk to give them more time.” You swallowed hard, your last words coming out as a sob. “How you almost died…”

“Then you know that I ran,” he spat angrily, pulling his arms from your grip, pacing across the room. A shaky hand rested on top of his head. “I saw Chrissy and I ran. I didn’t stay to help. I got scared. I was a goddamn coward. I’m still a coward. I can’t even sleep without being terrified by my nightmares. That was how he got you, you know? Vecna. I never saw him. He killed Chrissy in her mind. And then Patrick…how do you hide or protect yourself from someone who can access your damn mind?”

“Eddie,” you urged, taking a step toward him. As your hand landed on his shoulder, he jumped, lurching away from you. “Anyone would have ran. That doesn’t make you a coward. If I watched someone get plastered to the ceiling and their limbs started snapping I would run. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“What credit? You think Harrington would have run? Hell, you think Henderson would have? No. Harrington got pulled into the lake by those damn vines and Wheeler and Buckley dove right in after him. No hesitation. They put their lives on the line because he needed help. And Henderson? He jumped through that gate, hurting himself, to come and find me. He didn't think twice about those bats. He just came to save the day.”

“And according to him, you cut those sheets and raced out to distract the bats so the others could end Vecna. Eddie, how can you not see that’s the same damn thing? You risked your life, you almost died, to protect all of them! This town couldn’t be more wrong about you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not…I’m not good, okay?”

“No. You’re perfect.”

“Goddamn it! No I’m not! I told you when this whole thing started that being with me was a mistake. I tried to be a dick so you’d stay away from me. I fought it because you…you’re too good. You’re beautiful and you’re smart and you’re sweet. You’re a fucking teacher. You are a blindingly bright light and I am the darkness that will drag you down. You don’t deserve this shit.”

“This isn’t a mistake! Stop saying it’s a mistake!”

“Why?” He spun, chest heaving, soft brown eyes as dark as a moonless sky. “It is and the sooner you see that, the better off you'll be. Hell, the better off I’ll be. Because one day, maybe not today, maybe not next week. Hell, maybe not even next month, but one day, you are going to look around and realize that this was one giant fucking mistake in your life. That I am a mistake and then you’ll leave and it will be what’s best for you. I won’t even be able to be mad at you but I…”

 “You’ll what?”

Eddie closed his eyes and when they opened, there was the man you knew, the man you'd fallen for. Sweet chocolate brown gazed at you, like two windows into his soul, a soul that was fighting for its life right now between what it wanted and what it thought was right.

“I’ll never recover,” he admitted softly. “There won’t be any getting over you. I’ve never…I’ve never had a real relationship, princess. No one has ever wanted me like you do. No one has ever looked at me like you do.”

“And how is that?”

“Like I matter. Like I’m worth something.”

“You are worth something and you do matter. And I’m not going anywhere. Eddie, you are not a mistake. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. With you…with you, I feel things I didn’t even know were possible. You’re everything. You’re worth everything to me and you can push all you want but I am going to push right back.”

“What if I just end things?” he challenged.

“Is that what you want?”

“Sweetheart…”

“No. If you can look me in the face and tell me that you don’t want to be with me, then I will leave right now and I will never bother you again. But if you can’t…why are you fighting this so hard? I don’t care about your past. I mean, I do, but only because I want to be there for you. I want to be the one to soothe you out of your nightmares. I want to be the person you talk to when the shit in your head gets to be too much. I want to kiss every scar, ice every bruise, and clean every cut. I want to be here. I want you.”

“Why?”

It was such a simple question. One syllable, three letters, but the answer was anything but. Three words, eight letters…but the weight behind them was so heavy. The potential for how wrong everything could go if you said them was a train bearing down on you, you standing on the tracks, watching it come, waiting for the impact that would crush you. 

But you had to say it. You had to make him see how much he meant to you. So, you braced yourself for collision. Your eyes squeezed shut as if you could keep it from happening if you just couldn’t see it. 

“Because I love you.”

Silence. You stood, eyes closed, a boulder the size of a house sitting in your stomach. Was he going to laugh at you? Say how could you even say that when it hadn’t been that long? That you were just starting to date, to get to know each other? Would he tell you to get out?

Then large hands, metal rings cool against your flushed cheeks, cradled your face gently between them. Your eyes fluttered open to find Eddie looking down at you, his swollen lips curved up slightly on the side into the softest smile, those pools of chocolate melting right down, slipping between all the crevices within you. His head tilted forward, soft ends of his waves tickling the curve of your cheek. 

“Say that again,” he implored, fingers wrapping around your jaw, thumb coasting over your bottom lip. 

You swallowed down the fear that had risen up at your declaration, whispering, “I love you. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s too soon. I probably sound insane and I am not trying to scare you and I don’t expect you to say it back. I just…I realized it yesterday. I mean, I think I knew before that but I ignored it because…totally insane, right?”

“Prom Queen.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Hands wrapped around your hips as his lips slammed into yours just before he pulled back, hissing, covering his mouth and yelling, “Son of a bitch!”

“Your lip!” you shrieked, fingers prying his hand away to reveal his lips bleeding fresh, the skin split anew. 

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” he grumbled. 

“No, it’s not. Here. Hang on.”

You walked over to the small kitchen, opening drawers until you found one that had a few kitchen towels. Pulling one out, you ran it under the cold water in the sink for a bit before carrying the blue checked cloth back to Eddie. 

“Let me see,” you commanded.

“I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Stop being so damn stubborn for one minute and just let somebody help you,” you huffed, stepping in front of him. You brushed his hair back from his face, gently applying the cold, wet cotton to the spot on his lip. Blood was running, a little red river, down over his chin. Using the dry part of the towel, you dabbed that off before it ruined his white shirt. “There. Is that better?”

Eddie’s eyes rolled upwards as he nodded, “Yeah.”

“See? You know, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you need a little help every now and then. Especially when you have people who want to help.”

“It’s not that. I just…ugh!” Eddie huffed, taking the towel from you. Holding it to his lip with one hand, he took your hand in the other, leading you over to the couch. He sat, tugging you down with him. 

“What?”

“We had this really important moment and I fucking ruined it with my stupid lip. I just wanted to…look, I’m not great with words but I make up for it with my hands.”

A shiver raced along your spine because he was not lying. That man could write sonnets with his hands, he could write epic tales with his fingers, and compose complete novels with that mouth. An endless adventure that had you craving more, turning page after page until the sun rose because you just needed what happened next.

“I wanted to show you…you know? How I feel?”

Your body twisted toward him, arm resting along the back of the couch, head tilted in interest. You'd confessed that you were in love with him and no, he didn’t have to say it back. The only thing worse than him not feeling the same way you did was for him to lie and pretend he did. But you couldn’t help the desire burning within you to know exactly how he did feel about you. 

“I’m listening.”

“I…well, you know, you’re…I mean, I’ve never…” He groaned, head rocking back against the couch, free hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never had…no one’s ever looked at me like you do. I’ve hooked up with plenty of girls but it never meant anything, you know? I was just getting my dick wet and…fuck, why is this so hard? Why am I saying that to you? Jesus H. Christ.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured him, fingers dancing over the back of the couch, slipping along his shoulder to his neck, your palm pressing against the side of it. No, you absolutely did not want to hear about Eddie getting his dick wet with anyone but you also knew talking openly about how he felt was foreign to him. So, you weren't going to comment on that, to give him any reason to shut down on you. “You’re doing fine, baby. It’s just me and you.”

“I know. I don’t know why it’s so hard to just say the fucking words but I’ve never said them to anybody who wasn’t my uncle or Henderson, but I mean I thought I was dying. Not that I don’t love the little shrimp but it’s just not something I throw around. It’s never gotten me anywhere, you know? My dad never said that shit. Men don’t get all emotional. And my mom, she did but then she was gone and…it should be easy. They’re just words, right? But they’re not just words. Those words are everything and once you say them there is no taking them back. And if you say them and everything goes to shit, then it sucks so much more. That’s why it was always easy because I never felt that for any girl I was with. Even some of the girls that lasted a few weeks. Never and now it feels fucking impossible to just tell you and I want to tell you. I want you to know.”

“Eddie…” you said softly, your heart bouncing around in your chest like a pinball machine. Could he mean what you thought he meant? Did you dare allow yourself to believe it?

His body rocketed forward as he sat up, tossing down the dish towel, his hands grabbing onto your face. He held onto you as if you were going to disappear, turning to dust in his fingers, as if you were a balloon that he was desperate to keep from floating away into the clouds. 

“I feel like that too,” he whispered, his words urgent. “I…you know, that thing you said. Me too. I mean, you’re right. It’s nuts. We’ve only known each other for a handful of weeks and yes, I just knew. I knew it was you. I knew that this wasn’t just some way to get my rocks off for a bit. This wasn’t some girl who just wanted a taste of the dark side for a few weeks. But I have nothing to compare it to because I’ve never felt this. I wasn’t married. Hell, I haven't had a relationship last for longer than two months. So, is it that crazy?”

“Is what crazy?” you urged, knowing it was hard for him but needing him to say it. You needed those words like you needed your next breath. You needed to know if you were in this alone, if you were insane for feeling the way you did, or if he felt it too.

“Me…you know…”

“I don’t know.”

Eddie groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against yours, fingers slipping into your hair, cradling the back of your head. Your eyes slipped closed, breathing him in, swearing you could hear the sound of his heart beating in time with your own, thunderous and purposeful, like a herd of horses racing down the beach. 

“Damn it, sweetheart. You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I need to hear the words, Eddie,” you pleaded, fingers grabbing the white cotton of his shirt, twisting it. “If you really feel it, I need to hear it. I promise you, you’re safe with me.”

“But what if you decide to go? What if you realize, like everyone else in this town, that I’m not worth it? That you could do better? What if you don’t have the energy to deal with what’s broken inside of me? I’m exhausting, sweetheart. Even my friends will tell you that.”

“Eddie, I am not going anywhere.” Your lips pressed against the side of his mouth, tender, careful not to touch his freshly split lip. “I could never do better than you because, I think, the reason I fell for you so hard, so fast, is because something in me recognized you. It recognized that you were the thing it was missing. Eddie, I have never felt with Cam even a fraction of the things I feel when I’m with you.”

“Well, we already established that he sucks in the sack.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you chuckled, one hand slipping underneath his shirt, resting over his heart. “I’m talking in here. My heart somehow knew you. It sounds nuts. I know. But something in you made my heart go, there he is. That’s the one we’ve been waiting for. You’re not getting rid of me. I already told you, you can push all you want but I am going to push right back even harder. I’ll knock you on your ass if I have to.”

His nose traced over yours, over your cheekbone, until his lips were resting right neck to your ear, “I love you. Fuck, I am so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me.”

One hand still pressed to his chest, the other cradled his cheek, your insides going warm when he turned and nuzzled into it. You leaned into him, lips pressing gentle kisses to every inch of skin that wasn’t bruised or split open. You felt as his heartbeat slowed, the tension slowly easing from his body, relaxing under your touch. 

“Don’t be scared of me,” you breathed, your cheek rubbing against his and then he was cradling your arm, bringing your wrist to his mouth, his lips pressing lightly against it. 

“I’m not scared of you,” murmured Eddie, lips moving over your forearm, along your bicep, featherlight ticklish kisses, as much pressure as his mouth could handle. “I’m scared of hurting you. I’m scared of not being the kind of man you deserve. I’m scared of losing you, of what I would become if you left, of what I would do to keep you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” you managed, struggling when those lips reached your neck, fingers skimming over the skin just above your waistband. “I’m not scared of you. I’ve never been scared of you. I know you won’t hurt me.” Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping it, whimpering when his tongue ran up the column of your throat. “You do deserve me. You’re more than I deserve, my real life superhero.” Your body trembled when that tongue slid up to your ear, teeth catching your earlobe. “And you’re not going to lose me. I’m yours, hopelessly and completely yours.”

“Princess, those are very dangerous words,” he growled against your ear, that hand trailing ever higher until he grazed the underside of your breast. “Because I’ve never had anything that was truly mine.”

“Well, I am,” you whimpered when his thumb ran over the hardened peak of your nipple. 

Eddie leaned forward, his body pressing into you, forcing you onto your back on the couch. His hands came to either side of your head, that face, so beautiful even bruised and bloody, hovering just inches from yours. Brown eyes, dark with something dangerous and promising burned into you, setting your entire body ablaze, turning you into a pile of ash. 

“You’re sure you want that?” he challenged, fingers working at the button on your shorts, hand slipping under your waistband, cupping your heat. “Because if you’re mine, I am never letting you go.” He pushed your panties to the side, two thick fingers pressing into you, your entire body clenching around him. “Fuck. If you’re mine, you’re only mine. I don’t like to share, sweetheart. Never been good at it. You are everything I never thought I could have.” Those fingers curled within you, your back arching, fighting through the haze of pleasure to focus on his words. “You’re everything that I want. You’re the first thing that has made me truly happy in…forever.” His thumb brushed over your clit and you bit down on your lip, hips rocking up to meet his hand. “I won’t give that up easily. I would burn this fucking world to the ground before I lose you.”

“Yes…fuck yes. I want that. I want you,” you groaned, each word a gasp. His words and his touch worked in tandem to send you flying toward the edge, teetering as you looked down at the vast drop before you that was inevitable. 

“Thank fuck,” he rasped, “because I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anything else in my life. You mine, baby?”

“Yes. Yours. I’m yours…” you whined, thighs trembling, toes at the edge, rocks tumbling down, the wind pushing at your back. 

“Good. That’s my girl. Now come for me, baby.”

And with those words, a softly spoken command, you tumbled over the side, plunging into the unknown. You cried out, fingers digging into the muscles of his back, your body arching into him as your orgasm took over your body. Every inch of you shook with the force of it while Eddie worked you through it. 

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, nuzzling your face gently. “Mine. My girl.”

“Yours,” you mumbled in agreement, your body ice cream that was melting into the sidewalk on a warm sunny day, incapable of rearranging itself into a formed shape again as you sunk into the couch. “I love you.”

He grinned, wide and goofy, the skin on his lip pulling. “Son of a bitch. I love hearing you say those words. Say it again.”

“I love you,” you repeated with a giggle.

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” you yelled.

“I love you,” he said back and then you were both grinning like the lovestruck idiots that you were.

“So, while I am happier than a fox in a henhouse to hear you two yelling how much you love each other,” came a voice from the other side of the door, “I am back and I am going to open the door in about two minutes. So, if any clothing needs putting back on, consider this fair warning so none of us got to be embarrassed about anything.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at Eddie, both of them breaking into fits of giggles as you struggled to get your shorts back on before Uncle Wayne came barging through the door. The door opened just as you were sitting up on the couch, Eddie’s arm slung casually around your shoulder, feigning an innocence you didn’t have.

Wayne raised an eyebrow, looking at them both, “Don’t you both have homes you could be doing all the naked stuff in? I thought my days of walking in on Eddie’s bare ass were long gone.”

Eddie leaned to the side, tilting his ass toward you as he looked down at it and then back at his uncle, “My ass is fully covered, thank you.”

“Mmmhmm, and I am sure all clothing was in its proper place before I walked in.”

Eddie shrugged, “I mean…no promises but seriously. How often did you ever walk in on me and a girl?”

“You didn’t need no girl to be naked, boy. I walked in on you playing guitar in your birthday suit one time. You seemed to be allergic to clothing. That boy would strip down whenever he could. Just sitting at the kitchen table, stark nude, munching on a bowl of Honeycomb. Argued with me because he wanted to sleep naked. Not in my house, he wasn’t.”

You pressed your lips together in amusement, “Really?”

“I mean, look, sometimes it’s just nice to feel a breeze down there, you know? The Scottish have the right idea with those kilts. Little Eddie doesn’t like confinement. It’s like girls with bras.”

“I don’t think you can compare a bra with basic pants and underwear,” you teased. 

“So, I am assuming, based on what I heard and what I can surmise happened in here, that this girl was able to talk some sense into you?”

“She might have,” Eddie smirked. “She’s a bit stubborn like that.”

Wayne scoffed, “Hmm. Well, then you are two peas in a pod. Ain’t nobody more stubborn than you.”

“Oh come off it, old man. Says the guy who refuses to go to the doctor for anything.”

“I don’t need to pay some quack for the common cold.”

“It was pneumonia!” Eddie argued. 

“Whatever. Now, don’t you two have a house you could choose that isn’t mine? Not that I don’t appreciate the visit but I would be mighty grateful for my chair and some quiet time to watch my programs. It’s Saturday night, you know.”

“Oh shit. We’re interrupting his Walker, Texas Ranger. That’s a sin in this place.”

You grinned, “Sorry Wayne. We’ll get out of your hair, okay?”

“What hair?” snorted Eddie.

“Boy, you ain’t too old for me to put across my knee,” warned Wayne. “Don’t you be insulting my hair just because you have a beehive on that head.”

Eddie gasped, his hands coming up to his dark locks, “Beehive? This is no beehive. This is a majestic mane that deserves respect.”

You snorted, earning an offended glare from Eddie. Laughing, you took his hand in yours, “Enjoy your show, Wayne.”

“Thank you.”

As they headed out of the trailer, you asked, “Your place or mine?”

“I don’t care as long as you’re there with me.”

And your heart fluttered because you felt the same exact way. You didn’t care where you were as long as this man was next to you. 

Chapter 24

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This Single Oversight Will Bring Irken-Kind to Its Knees

I have a little riddle for you.

What does an ant nest, a computer, and the ancient city of Troy have in common?

While you ponder the significance of this question and consider your answer, there’s a few things I want to analyze about the worldbuilding of Invader Zim.

We may have heard it said before, least I have (and agree), that the fate of the IZ universe appears to be a rather bleak picture.

Through our lens of focus, being upon Earth and an oh-so specific nutball waging his battle upon humanity, we often don’t do as much thinking about the larger cosmic war taking place meanwhile. Not between the Meekrob and Tenn, not between the Tallest and every dumb luck threat they are thrown against, but between the Irken Armada and all life in the entire universe, sentient or not.

Their intentions will not be made any more clear, between outright eradication or eventual enslavement of every lifeform they set their sights on. While they have alliances and neutral treaties, those agreements seem few and far between, as well as born from temporary conveniences. The cards have already been dealt, and all available evidence has indicated that every planet they are aware of is doomed from the moment The Massive was operational.

Though littered with inefficiencies and incompetency that could suggest an empire in internal decline, the development of the control brains and other centralized command crutches of the species suggests the Irkens can still keep a well oiled machine running, no matter how many mishaps happen along the way. At least, that machine and their plundered resources will definitely outlast the survival of their enemies, for sure.

To speak of their enemies, there has not been a single competitive race within the show that demonstrates any credible threat to Operation Impending Doom II- only those that can resist the conquest a little bit longer than others, or those who survive by appeasing Irk (or evading its detection). The fall of Vort, which stood as the homeworld of the only aliens with the technological ability to match the armada’s firepower is…. Really bad news. That’s to say the least of comparatively primitive, TINY planets like Earth or Blorch, standing zero chance in the way of what’s eventually coming. This is a war that has continued despite the death of two.. FOUR Almighty Tallests if you follow the movie’s events… and Irkens wholly are still thriving for it across the Galaxy.

So, given all of these facts, and the perception that the Irkens (like any invasive species or colonial force) don’t seem to be a society that will make responsible and/or sustainable use of their ill-gotten territory… it seems like this is how life across the universe ends in Invader Zim one day: Not with a bang, not with the whimper of heat death, but through screams muffled under the bloody boots of a dominant predator- a predator that is, itself, doomed to cannibalize its own once it hits the carrying capacity of all existence.

Bleak, concrete, and horrific as that may sound, there’s still a “however” here to consider!

Yep, that’s me about to point one of my big fat fingers to the sky and protest- Irk just might be,

Not so Undefeatable, after all!

And not only have I figured out exactly what sort of countermeasure you need to destroy these invaders, I have reason to suspect it’s a plan already long ago set into motion.

Let’s break it down,

An Irksome Achilles’ Heel

True, individually, the bug bastards are irritatingly tough to kill through conventional means. True, collectively, they are nigh impossible to outmatch. And more than most anything else, they owe this tenacity to two things: numbers, and R&D. Possessing some of most state of the art pinnacles in transportation, communications, and military equipment, the Armada found a knack for being able to steamroll most lesser planets before it.

The genius of the individual PAK unit grants each and any one Irken a theoretical path to partial immortality itself, by route of consciousness archiving. I strongly believe that kind of cybernetic progress was also one of the stepping stones that led to the creation of the Control Brains. Nonetheless, this very same strength of the Irkens’ has also proven to be the source of their greatest vulnerability.

Paks, Paks… Oh Paks. The entire race’s civilization revolves around such technology the way we do around our own brains, our own hearts, and our communicative network. For all intents and purposes, and as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum in my other spills about the show, a PAK is all and at once

• Synonymous with the holder of their soul, consciousness, being, whatever you want to call their personhood.

• Able to have their data repurposed by future generations, in the result of an Irken’s permanent death.

• A universal necessity shared by the entire population.

• Susceptible to alterations, sometimes by intelligent enough individuals (as demonstrated by the Zimvoid comic arc), but usually by a Control Brain, directly.

In addition to that last quality, there’s another way the code in a PAK can be changed, for better or worse- Via evolution. Though I am talking about digitized neurology, the actual data in a PAK is a lot more comparable to biological DNA or a “self-learning” AI than it is a rigid computer program. By this, I mean that its code is subject to certain changes over time, perhaps both directed and completely random, particularly during the recycling of its information back into the Smeeteries.

And this is actually good design on the control brains’ part, the same way not reproducing Irkens as genetically identical clones was. Genetic and digital diversity are desirable goals to keep in mind if you want a healthy and versatile stock of workers, engineers, soldiers, and everything in between. We’re talking about highly sentient, highly intelligent, and emotional organisms here. A static drone mindset is going to offer them inadequate ability to adapt to their lengthy life experiences or be unique persons. How else would social mobility have purpose in their world? How else could the cream of the crop rise so far above their peers? That positive was deemed worthy of an obvious risk, however: computational errors.

When the Bugs Get Bugs

 IZ does not clearly lay out what it means for an Irken to be defective, but it gives us a general idea. Defectiveness is not something diagnosed from a code scan for this missing value or that incorrect variable. It’s not judged by one specific character trait or quality that’s abnormal for an Irken to display. “Defective” is a judgement stamp, wielded by the Control Brains when they gauge the total sum value of a life’s contribution to the species. And it’s not one given to Irkens which are merely incompetent, no. Anyone proven to be unfit for their standing is given generous opportunity for redemption or simply reassigned a more suitable occupation. If it were based on likability, we’d have seen Skoodge sent to Judgementia years ago.

Rather, it’s given to those who are viewed as so twisted that they are proven to be an existential danger to their brethren. Irkens that are so destructive to the essence of the collective that their memory must be purged from the record and their identity erased.

I adore the enthusiasm behind fans who want to view this as an analogy for disability or neurodivergence against a conformist society, but the metaphor I’m seeing is one of extreme antisocial behavior. A defective Irken screams less “adhd/autism” to me than they do serial murderers (of their own) or outright traitors. Pardon the use of a gross phrase, but it’d seem we were talking about an Irken equivalent of what the outdated gens would have dubbed the “criminally insane”. No one on screen has ever shown Skoodge or Tak the sort of concern that would get them sent to the Spike of Judgement, but when Zim was in that hot seat? NO one was doubting what his verdict would be.

^ courtesy of “The Trial’s” transcript

I think about the 40 shmillion mistakes a lot.

It’s such a vague quantity. But it sure sounds like a hell of a big one. And what mistakes… what did the lil squirt even have to compare them to? There’s no standard one person an Irken can be. Every presentation of the flaws in that code to the control brains hasn’t ended up a flaw to him.

I only started writing this because I really couldn’t stop thinking about the 40 shmillion. There’s no chronological room for bad self-modding to add up to that so quickly.  DNA replication, nature’s own sloppy and random process of creating new life, can be excused around 120,000 hiccups when duplicating with a 6 billion pair-long protein. But this kind of shuffling is under a futuristic AI’s precise eye. Yes, defects happen, but as bad as him? From birth??? How could you possibly get that many detrimental deviations from the mechanical fucking god-queen(s) of their entire homeworld?

And then it hit me.

You don’t. Not from Irk.

The hot take I’ve been charging for this entire time is thus.

Zim is not defective by any random accident. In fact, I smell the tampering of foreign sabotage.

Not only is this guy the thing his kind fears more than any else, they have every right to be shaking in their stance.

That puzzle i posed at the beginning of this journey, have you seen what I’ve seen yet?

Because the answer I was looking for as to what similarity connects an anthill, a PC, and a city from Greek legend was a most effective tactic for taking them down.

Do you know the best way to deal with a bad ant infestation? Cuz you can lay down all the raid and crushing action you want, but you won’t really be getting anywhere unless you target the pests directly at their queen. To that end, liquid ant baits are marvelous inventions- a sweet substance hiding a small amount of slow acting poison. Poison to be peacefully delivered by the stomach of an ant to the rest of her colony, poisoning her kin, who sicken more members, on and on until the queen is destroyed and the entire nest perishes. An insidious toxin to do all the work while its user never lifts a finger, pretty ingenious.

And when it comes to computers, we also have ways to attack entire networks at source, from quietly and far away. “Trojan” was a category of malware responsible for 64.31% of all cyber attacks on Windows systems in 2022, and they still make up a majority of active malware hits today. The concept is deviously simple. The malicious code is hidden within an innocent looking program, maybe even within a legitimate software that does what it’s supposed to. Once the stowaway is invited into the system, it can get down to it some sneaky, nasty, destructive work on your device. As for what those acts could look like, well, malware exists to do all kinds of things. Mostly something involving trying to get money/information from you or hijacking your computer for whatever its creator wants to use it for. And some of them will just up and wreck your shit, disable your antivirus software to open you up to more infections, disable important operations, wipe your data. Use your imagination.

And as for Troy.. well, where do you think Trojan programs got their name? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, Irkens have their Armada, bionic drones, and homeworld- in other words, the thriving swarm of army ants, the billions to trillions of computers they so rely on, and their nigh untouchable fortress, always at war.

And some damn crafty bastard(s) in the stars said

“Here is their sugar-bait,”

“Here is their cyber attack,”

“Here is their wooden horse.”

And one particular race is going to be getting the last laugh before long.

Nerds That Are GOATed With the Sauce

That’s right, I thought about this all the way through to finding our prime suspect. And let me tell you, NO ONE in the Galaxy reeked of fish like the Vortians did. Get over here and lemme show you my whiteboard with all the red circles and polaroids on it.

- The Means

In a way of tragic irony, Vort has contributed more than any else to the same Irken conquest that turned on them in the end. A natural talent for cutting edge engineering and technical development actually does not seem to be what Irk already came into the ring with. For how mighty and superior they view themselves, the greatest achievements of their military can actually be owed to Vortian outsourcing. When we would have gotten a look at Tallest Miyuki’s very own “finest minds” during her reign, notice something interesting about these guys below,

Zim there is the ONLY Irken to be found! Yes, transferred there because of the punchline explanation of ‘he breaks everything he touches so maybe he’ll have an affinity for weapons research’ but damn right he actually did! And still does; I don’t want it to go unsaid that Zim has shown MUCH more technological skill and innovation than near any other Irken we’ve seen.

Another fun thing to note about this is that Lard Nar was also part of this lineup, and in the transcript he was in the process of working on the blueprints for The Massive. (which leaves you with the cursed knowledge that Zim, Prisoner 777, and Lard were all familiar coworkers long before the events of the show) And that brings me back to what I’m saying about the real reason the Vort natives were enslaved and imprisoned instead of outright sweeped after conquering. The Armada needs their skills, because Vortian advancement is something their own scientists couldn’t come close to. Left to their own devices, Vort could have easily outmatched them at an earlier point in history. It’s a people that figured out infinite power sources and potentially wormhole technology, while PAKs were something a disfigured human tween with a lot of time on his hands was able to crack. If anyone could outpace and outsmart the defensive measures of the Control Brains, it’s going to be them. And what better, cleaner way to sabotage the enemy than from within. 

The very same strings of inserted code that cursed Zim with his delusions, paranoia, lust for destruction, and horrible tactics may also have blessed him with a determination and intellect higher than almost any creature alive. The saboteur gave Irk the most powerful racecar in history, and then fitted it with bicycle brakes. No matter how hard Zim tries to conform to what will give him admiration, no matter how competent he is at keeping himself alive, it’s as if he is instinctually compelled toward whatever actions will cause the MOST damage to his allies in the process. Dib may think he’s the bulwark against the invasion when, ironically, he’s fighting against the one being that’s predetermined to be the arrow that strikes Irken leadership right in their dumb, green heels. (There is also an instance in the comics where Dib figures out that Zim is the ace in the hole for total Irken eradication but that’s another fun story.)

Oh, oh HO HO, and that’s only what he’s capable of doing before the empire’s actual immune system against defects like him wakes up and notices!

Three planetary blackouts, two dead generals, and a whole swath of dead invaders was just the fucking warm up, babey! All that is merely the kind of loud disruption that you need in order to fulfil the real thing this Trojan horse exists for in the first place.

What a celebration of hubris the Spike of Judgement was. Yeah, let’s take our method of filtering the corrupted data from the hive mind, and completely centralize it on a single planet! As well, let’s have the very purging agents also be the same ones to perform the evaluations themselves, I’m sure that it would be unthinkable for any outsider to design a worm that could make it through the brains’ firewalls. Goddamn spectacular. Like inserting an infected USB into your laptop, the Tallest never realized what kind of beast they woke up by plugging that PAK into the Spike’s mainframes. Those brains were meant to handle an expected spectrum of deviation when it came to defective Irkens, never a sleeper virus of this complexity.

From here it probably won’t even matter if Zim survives much longer on Earth, his virus has already spread to the very thing relied upon to keep things like him out of the data pool in the first place. With the Judgementia brains corrupted and no higher authority to overrule them, the firewall is effectively broken, and you know what that means? Bigger cracks for future defectives to start trickling through, both spontaneous and artificial. The ideal scenario is one where a degenerating and glitched population accelerates the incompetency of the empire to the point where it just implodes on itself; nevertheless, even a disease that only slows down Operation Doom could be a game changer, by giving the rest of the little guys more time to band together a coalition strong enough to strike back when the time is right.

- The Motive

The history of these two races’ alliance is something I lament us not having more lore to pull from- how far back it goes, what the character of the Vort was like during that time, what the Irkens had offered in return- a few among dozens of questions it rears.  The implication behind how it ended lies in Zim’s creation that slayed Tallest Miyuki. Interestingly, the Empire never received the memo of what exactly went down, or, perhaps, stubbornly denied the account of the other scientists who were there that day. Neither Red/Purple nor the Judgmentia Brains had any idea that Zim’s actions led to the death of a Tallest. So, makes sense that the Vortians became the unintentional scapegoat (no pun intended) for the incident, and the rest is history.

Note: It’s also in the realm of possibility that Vort was actually the one to withdraw from the alliance instead, given that the same blob that devoured Miyuki (purely the fault of their Irken transfer) also went on to cause untold amounts of devastation. Red’s reaction to the real story stuck out to me as more telling, although.

But why am I even talking about this? Zim was decades old before war was declared on them, and either people’s regard to each other seemed strangely… respectful, if anything.

But, was Vort really a monolithic bunch? Irk was already an empire by this point, and diplomacy with those they needed something from did not mean they weren’t otherwise an aggressive force in the universe. For all we know, the alliance itself might have been coerced, or result of depraved leadership among the Vortians.  Any citizen with a conscience who could see the writing on the walls would be disgusted by giving so much aid and brown nosing to such a menace, no? I know who would have seen that writing before anyone else. Brainiacs who are smart enough to build something like The Massive and all its bells and whistles would know better than anyone just what it was all capable of in the wrong hands. The collateral damage against your own people might be a sacrifice worth making in the face of the alternative.

- The Oppurtunity

So.. that’s all well and good, yeah? A why, and a what, yet this is actually the tricky part of saving the galaxy,

Sneaking your StupidifyIrk.exe file onto the assholes’ homeworld without alerting either them or your own treacherous, weak, collaborator superiors to your actions. Infecting and releasing a random Irken alive would be far too dangerous, far too noticeable to the point where they could just be destroyed outright before given a chance to wreak real havoc.

But what about releasing a dead Irken? 🤔

PAKs are only screened for criminal flaws when errors begin to affect their body’s behaviors in destructive ways. A fully competent scientist, or soldier, or navigator performing a lifetime of loyal service to the empire and then meeting an unfortunate end? Their minds’ shadows can be accepted back into the data pool no questions asked. That’s only business as usual.

That almost makes new smeets something of a reincarnation of their ancestors. Personally, I see it kind of like replaying a video game and re-rolling your stats, even if you’re reusing your character’s name and general play style.

Either way, we come full circle to my theory about Zim’s actual origin. Maybe not “our” Zim, but the previous iteration of data that was shuffled to create his person. Whoever they were, I’m convinced that they were also an exceptional individual. They were probably pretty arrogant, but it was a more earned confidence, and they were a prodigy genius, the likes of which that was drawn to work alongside Vortian allies, as another researcher. Then, an untimely demise befell them. I couldn’t say they fell victim to some unfortunate accident, considering the cockroach durability of their body. No, I find it a lot easier to imagine they met their end in one of the more embarrassing ways for an Irken to die- A PAK stolen, disabled or forcefully detached by an assailant they might have allowed a little closer than they should have. To the homeworld, it’s a small matter. One more PAK recovered by the natives of the friendly planet, brought back home to be repurposed by the smeeteries, right?

Well, that’s what one smartass might have been hoping for.

And they really were a clever cookie, because that scheming seed is fruiting beautifully.

Lottery To Upgrade 3

Knowledge bank

Sebastian was a genius and a university professor, proficient not only in history but also in biology. His academic status is admired and his teaching is loved by students. Because being obedient to Masters in his capacity helps maintain social stability and makes humans more willing to be dominated by aliens, he is also exempted from participating in the lottery.

But he actually secretly excavated the history erased by Masters and studied the physiological functions of alien creatures, hoping to find a way to fight back against Masters, free mankind from the fate of slavery, and regain freedom.

"I seem to have found it! The weakness of these bastards is actually..." His excitement lasted less than three seconds because the door of his secret laboratory was destroyed.

"Professor Sebastian, you have been accused of illegally spying on Master's secrets, and you must immediately participate in the lottery! In order to thank you for your contribution to society, the winning rate is 100%!" The leader of the hunter bot pronounced his fate.

"No! It's just one step away from success!" He tried to escape, but was soon subdued by a hunter bot and injected with a mysterious liquid and passed out.

"Expert bot-SN001 active, ready to serve and advise" the newest humanoid robot woke up and stand at attention. Its appearance was half human half machine, smooth and muscular, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs.

"Oh My God! Professor Sebastian? Is it you?" a young scientist who was Sebastian’s student could not believe what he saw.

"It is Expert Bot-SN001. Professor Sebastian is ceased to exist but his personality is stored in database. Do you prefer this bot simulate his personality?"

"Oh yes!"

"Confirmed." The robot nodded and asked, "what’s the question?" in Sebastian’s tone.

"It’s really you! What happened to you?"

"I volunteer to become the first expert bot. This kind of robots stored the most amount of information about our Masters. It’s mission is to make humans understand Masters better, so that they can be more reverent and obedient to Masters. It is the most advanced non-combat robot."

"I don’t understand. Why such a successful person like you would like to be converted?"

"I tried to explore a method to destroy Masters’ rule but failed. Thanks to Masters for keeping me alive and instilled all knowledge of Masters in my mind. Therefore I understand that human have no chance to win the war against Masters. Masters are much more powerful and advanced than us. I'm stupid but I can be saved, as long as I become a robot and spread the master's knowledge and disintegrate the human resistance consciousness."

"So you wanted to resist Masters and you know the weaknesses of Masters now?"

"Warning!" Sebastian became Robot mode again and said "Inappropriate questions are detected and education is required immediately"

"Wait! I just…" But the young scientist couldn’t finish the sentence. In front of him, the robot became completely naked and on its crotch was a phallus shaped hypno-gun emitting beam to the young man’s head.

Moments later, the young man snapped to attention and said out loud, "I understand! Masters are great. I obey Masters’ rule without question!"

The Expert bot-SN001 made its groin area cover in briefs, and asked again, "any more questions?"

"No, sir! All I should know is Masters are great. I will convert more men to robots for Masters. Thank you, sir. Have a nice day!"

"Have a nice day, too!" While seeing the young man leaving, Expert bot-SN001 experienced a long time of pleasure, it knew it served Masters well and was glad that it could be an obedient robot forever.

Working through Rakha's playthrough has had me thinking a lot about the Dark Urge as it relates to the other companion backgrounds.

Initially I was sort of surprised that everyone seems so fundamentally chill about learning that Durge has these dark compulsions, murder urges, bloodlust, etc. But the more I've thought about it and written about it, the more I've seen Rakha finding points of connection and points to relate to pretty much everyone she's traveling with.

I feel like I'm probably not the first person to comment on this, but nevertheless...

Karlach, good-natured as she is, becomes a violent juggernaut when she goes into a rage - not just a barbarian mechanic thing, as we see when she hulks out and tears apart the tollhouse after Anders' death. She's not completely out of control, but it's also not dissimilar from Durge going off the rails.

Astarion is driven by a lust for blood that is entirely disconnected from him as himself; he can struggle to resist it or channel it into productive avenues but it never leaves him entirely.

Shadowheart serves a power of darkness and is tormented by it even as she forms her identity around it. Based on her dialogue in the cutscene and after, there's reason to believe she doesn't really want to kill Lae'zel when she puts a knife to her throat - but she's driven by Shar, a dark force outside herself, to go to these extremes of violence even if she doesn't want to.

Wyll has lost control of his own life completely and left behind everything that he knew when Mizora took control of him. Like Durge, he has the choice to take the powers afforded him and use them in a positive direction, but he is not in control of them, and like Durge, he is cut off from everything he used to be and has had to build a new identity from scratch.

Lae'zel, similarly, is isolated from any familiar points of reference and making her way through a world that often makes no sense. She also is steeped in violence; from the beginning, she describes Durge's bloodlust as completely understandable and is only concerned about it being directed towards the right enemies.

Gale carries the force of the orb inside himself, another dark force that is beyond his control and nevertheless has the capacity to use his body for terrible destructive potential.

Halsin struggles with his more bestial nature and the tendency of the bear form to take him over in moments of excitement - and in that form he has little control over his body's violence. "I may not be able to help but to kill goblins."

I've heard that the game's design was originally centered around Durge, and the option for Tav was a later addition. I do wonder if these companion backstories, dissimilar as they seem at first glance, were deliberately constructed to all reflect aspects of the same struggle Durge is undergoing, from different angles and at different levels of severity.

Or I could be reading way too much into it, of course. :P But that can be fun too.

clegan a/b/o verse

gale is the local high school physics teacher who keeps his omega status a secret, lest he wants his son, lucas, taken away from him and his job revoked.

he's been doing a pretty good job at it, until now. lucas has found a new best friend in Benjamin "Benji" Egan, who's father is the loud and attractive alpha on the PTA who all the single omegas seem to oggle at. gale has never paid him any attention until Benji starts coming over pretty regularly, and by default, his father too.

and it all would be completely fine, if gale hadn't forgotten to change out his scent blocker the one day that week Benji and his father were coming over for a playdate.

“I thought I was going crazy.” John breathed into Gale’s ear. 

Gale felt, more than heard, whatever John was saying, too distracted by the warmth of the other man on his back. 

Gale’s hands were placed flat on the kitchen counter, the knife and apple slices forgotten. There wasn’t much that was going on in Gale’s mind at the moment apart from the aching want of John’s hands on his body. It didn’t matter where anymore. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he tried to think of anything except for the man so close behind him, so dizzyingly close, and the scent. God his scent. John’s was different from most alphas, who had a musky, almost heavy scent. John's was softer, sweeter, but no less heady. A bit of pine, and something clean smelling, it made Gale almost want to keen. 

One of John’s hands came up to rest against Gale’s hipbone, and Gale inhaled sharply. He felt John step closer, chest to back now, with the other hand coming up to the front of his abdomen. Gale found himself leaning back to the alpha’s chest, and John’s fingertips left a fire blazing on Gale’s front as they dragged across. 

The hand on his abdomen ran up the column of his chest, and then to the base of Gale's neck. Gale could only sigh and close his eyes at the contact with the other man. It had been so long since he had let himself be so enveloped in another’s presence. 

John’s hand gently crept along Gale’s neck, coming to rest below his chin. The alpha gently tipped Gale’s head back so that it was leaning against John’s shoulder. With the new angle, John burrowed his nose into the column of Gale’s neck, inhaling deeply at his scent gland. 

Gale found himself unable to resist to any capacity. He didn’t think he would have even if he wanted to. 

  “You are an omega.” 

A rush of clarity ran through Gale, and he turned swiftly around so he could meet John’s eyes. 

“You wouldn’t-” Gale stuttered, momentarily lost looking into the cerulean blue that was John’s eyes, “Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Gale breathed, now with fear lacing his words. 

John’s eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“I would never,” The alpha replied, one hand coming up to rest against Gale’s cheek, the other still resting firmly on the omega’s hip.  John’s thumb brushes his cheek gently back and forth. “Just tell me one thing.” 

Gale nods, trying to dislodge the pit he feels in his stomach suddenly. 

“Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.” The alpha whispers.

Gale blinks in surprise, and then thinks back to all the times John has come over. How helpful the other man was with just chores around the house, offering to pick up the boys from school, helping make breakfast whenever Benji slept over. But most peculiar had been the stares, when Gale had felt like there were a pair of eyes burning holes into his back. He had previously thought John found his story suspicious. The lack of a wife, no marriage certificate or divorce, and hardly any pictures hanging in the house. 

It was all friendly if Gale had been an alpha, which is what he let the rest of the world believe. But Gale had always shivered at the way John looked at him, like there was a hidden meaning beneath those eyes. 

Gale looked at those eyes now. Deep blue and twinkling. In lieu of a response, Gale simply surged forward and captured John’s lips with his. 

The blonde could tell he had caught John by surprise, but the alpha was nothing if not enthusiastic in return. John pressed into Gale greedily, one hand winding around Gale’s back and the other caressing his head, angling his head to the side to allow for a deeper kiss. 

Gale found his hands carding through John’s hair, tugging at the brown strands and hearing John make a low moan which shot down to Gale’s core. 

John brushed the discarded apples to the side, but carefully placed the knife into the sink.

“Can’t let you get cut now can we?” He smirked before lifting Gale by the waist and settling him down on the countertop. Gale let out a grunt of surprise at his feet now dangling away from the floor, but chuckled after looking at John’s smug smile between his legs. 

“You are nothing if not considerate.” Gale said, before wrapping his legs around John and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Gale let out a breathy sigh as he felt John hands sneak below his shirt, his fingers drawing dangerously close to Gale’s chest. The blonde broke the kiss with stuttered breathing, and caught John’s hand before it ventured to the point of no return. 

“Wait, the boys are still–” 

“DAD!” Footsteps thumped down the staircase. 

The two men almost vibrated out of their skin at the speed they jumped apart, just as two pairs of feet ran into the kitchen. 

Gale cleared his throat with a cough, and John suddenly found a new interest in the refrigerator pictures. He had never noticed how much of an artist Lucas was until now. 

“Can we have apples now?” Benji asked innocently, without a care for the air of tension in the room. Lucas however, first looked oddly at John, before noticing the way his dad wasn’t meeting his eyes.

“Dad, why are you sitting up there? And why’s your face so red?”

Big Fat Boyfriends (pt 1)

”Oh god. What did we do!”

“I’ve never eaten that much in my life”

“I look so fat omg”

Harry and Louis have collapsed outside of the fridge door, food scattered across the kitchen floor, both the greedy boys cradling their swollen midsections.

The evening started off like any other evening. The two boys had sat down for their meal and eaten an appropriate amount to be satisfied. However once Louis uttered the words “I’m still hungry” almost a primal instinct came over Harry. He felt the need to fill up his boyfriend till he couldn’t eat another thing. However it seemed to back fire on himself as well, as Louis had been fostering his feeder instincts. As soon as they were sat by the fridge door, Harry shovelling food into Louis mouth, Louis couldn’t help but join in and push Harry’s belly to maximum capacity.

After an hour or so the two boys bellies pushed tight against their shirts. They both collapsed rubbing their extended bellies.

”Oh god. What did we do!” Harry moaned slowly moving his hand back and forth on his bulging gut.

“I’ve never eaten that much in my life” Louis chimed in sounding slightly pleased with this accomplishment.

“I look so fat omg” Harry groan trying to look at his midsection but quickly collapsing back onto the floor. Louis glanced over to Harry and he must agree, Harry did look fat. Louis member started to grow filling up his already tight underwear. He enjoyed this. Not only seeing his boyfriend bloated and moaning but his own bulging belly that filled his clothes.

Louis lent over to Harry and started to rub slowly his belly. “You do look a bit chubby Harry.” Harry just moaned as Louis made circular motions around his gut. “I really like it Harry. You look so hot like this.” Harry carried on groaning but opened his eyes slightly. He too could now feel his underwear fill as his cock grew hard. It turned him on that Louis like his bloated body but also that Louis liked his own swollen gut. Louis realised how hard Harry was and started to rub his lower belly making his way down to his crotch. Louis placed a hand on Harry’s rock hard penis which was met with a moan of approval.

“How about we make this a nightly thing huh?” Harry said between moans. Louis felt his dick pulsate at the prospect of this. Getting to see his boyfriend bloated and big every night as well as his own body expanding. He couldn’t resist. Louis bent down and kissed Harry passionately on the lips. He made his way down his body kissing his neck, chest and finally his belly. Louis pulled up Harry’s shirt and started to suck lightly on his fluffy belly, feeling his belly hairs with his mouth. Louis belly was right above Harry’s face now and he couldn’t resist exploring it. He pulled his shirt off and started to make out with Louis belly button. His smooth skin stretched across his full gut. Louis started to move further down exploring Harry’s lower belly which became hairier and hairier until he reached Harry’s hard shaft. Louis slowly put Harry’s hard cock in his mouth slowly sucking on his tip. As Harry moaned he pulled Louis trousers and boxers down and was met with his throbbing cock, already leaking precum. Harry ran his tongue around the tip of his cock before putting the whole thing in his mouth. The two bulging boys were sucking each other off at the thought of them getting fatter by the day. Harry envisioned Louis and him in bed naked with their two huge bellies pressed against each other not even able to find each others cocks, instead fucking each others bellies. Louis envisioned Him and Harry breaking out of their clothes leaving them stark naked, their fat bodies on display for everyone to see. It wasn’t long till the two boys exploded in each others mouth, Louis collapsing onto his bloated boyfriend. It was on this moment they knew that their lives would change for good.

New story!!! Been away for a while but been uninspired recently. Hope this is alright for you guys. Hope to get the new few parts out soon!

Fleurs par la Reine de la Nuit: Part I

Warning: None! Pure fluff.

A/N: This manlet has stolen my heart. Also posted on Ao3!

Lyney finds he must unmask a most skillful rival, yet your trade is not magic, but flowers.

Finding a good florist in Fontaine was not a matter of great difficulty. One only needed to step out into the bustling avenues of the Court of Fontaine and look several meters or so in virtually any direction to find a shop of high-quality blooms and well-styled bouquets. Nearly every district in the Court of Fontaine possessed these flower shops as given the propensity of the Fontainese for affectionate gestures, amorous gifts, and lively celebration, there was always demand for floral accompaniment. So how you managed to craft arrangements that surpassed the exceedingly high expectations of Fontaine’s florally astute populace meant your talent was nothing short of exceptional.  

The arrangements Lyney had seen were truly spectacular. He seldom found himself taking notice of flower arrangements beyond a gentle acknowledgment of pretty or lovely, but upon witnessing your work, he could only think of the sheer artistry and splendor your particular brand of blossoms possessed. Arrangements that recaptured the romanticism of old masters only to now be witnessed in the musée, yet made use of exotic blooms from across Teyvat, blending the traditional with the foreign. How you interwove padisarah’s and cecilia's with rainbow roses and lumoidouce bells as if there were grown out of the earth in each other's company was incredibly difficult to replicate. He had seen would-be copycats try, but their arrangements always seemed to look so contrived or ostentatious and sometimes downright gaudy. Your particular brand of effortless opulence and organic luxury seemed singular in a city utterly brimming with blooms. Lyney decided you must have used magic in some capacity. It seemed impossible that you could ensnare an entire city with flowers alone.  

He supposed your enigmatic methods of marketing were also particularly enchanting to a nation obsessed with mystery and mysticism. Lyney knew not your name. Your modus operandi was a well-executed and thoughtful affair. Your bouquets arrived at their destination via a determined black poodle pulling a gilded wagon or, for more elaborate orders, via masked individuals with a gilded tag that on one side read,  Fleurs par la Reine de la Nuit , and on the other a polite Merci beaucoup.  Perhaps it was not common knowledge, but Queen of the Night flowers were native to Natlan and only bloomed at night and wilted by dawn. Fittingly the only way to commission you was through a beautifully sculpted marble receptacle that sat on a prominent corner of the Quartier Narbonnais from dusk until dawn. It was utterly immovable to any passerby and firmly rooted to its spot. Paper slips for one's contact information would be accessible through a drawer in the front of the sculpture, then filled-out floral requests would be dropped into a slit on the top. He had not yet requested anything from you, but he had heard from those who used it that the next morning, a dove would arrive stating their request had been accepted and that a rather considerable payment should be remitted in a velvet coin pouch on the dove’s back. 

Lynette was utterly taken with your work, she often sighed with deep longing upon coming across your works, a small pout settling on her expression, and while Lyney was undeniably charmed, Lynette was right. There was a strange pragmatism in him that prevented him from fully being enamored, though Freminet would argue he seemed sufficiently enchanted by your enterprise. 

He encouraged Lynette to request an arrangement from you, but she stubbornly resisted saying that buying them for herself would cut the allure of your practice. So naturally, big brother Lyney had to take it upon himself to make his younger siblings happy.  

Lyney set off the marble box and grabbed a paper slip, name,address of delivery, date of delivery, budget, and colors, simple enough. However, the questions soon took a rather intriguing turn. Two columns with separate questions, If for a friend or loved one, answer the following. The other column was for events.

Alright, Lyney thought. He would play along to your silly game. 

If this person were a dish, what would they be? Ex. A chocolate souffle, understated in elegance with a rich and sweet inner composition.

What is the mood you would like for the arrangement? Ex. flirtatious, somber, wistful, effervescent, etc. 

Describe how much this person means to you. I will only accept genuine confessions of affection. The sentiments need not be profound but honest. 

Lyney couldn’t help but be thoroughly amused, but he answered each question in earnest. Lynette would probably be a plum galette, demure in appearance but sweet, simple, and endlessly comforting but with a surprising tartness. The mood of the bouquet should be whimsical and inspired but not overly gauche. The fragrance of the flowers should be subtle out of respect for Lynette’s sensitive nose and as for ‘how much does she mean to him?’... Lyney began to write:

"I would sacrifice myself for her in an instant. Her continued safety and happiness mean more to me than life itself." 

Now, Lyney could go on, but there wasn’t much room for a more extensive response. So with all the questions answered, he sealed up his slip and placed it in the box, anticipation brimming within him. 

No one knew anything about you, despite Charlotte vigorously trying to ascertain your identity in an ongoing column about your floral dealings in the Steambird. In part, he was delighted that Lynette would no doubt be pleased by the flowers, but your peculiar line of questioning had him thinking about exactly who you were and your motivations for producing floral arrangements in such a fashion. On a nearby bench, a stylish young couple eagerly filled out the form, quite obviously asking you to provide the flowers for their upcoming nuptials. 

Clearly, you were a hopeless romantic, and his magician's intuition told him that you were fond of tradition but seeking to innovate for the future and sow joy to the population through your bouquets. That and that you possessed a high degree of magical ability yourself, the regimented appearance and disappearance of your magical marble letter box that never seemed to become full despite receiving hundreds of requests per day, your letter-carrying doves, and all manner of mystery in your deliveries. As a magician, your skill almost made him envious, but he could not let the feeling distract from your allure. Lyney reasoned that you must be a delicate and shy soul and he often imagined that you and Lynette might get along. He pondered what expression you wore as you read through the requests. Were you exhausted by banal queries, or tickled by the sweet secrets of love and admiration written on your forms? The more he thought about it, the more Lyney decided he must uncover your identity. Not to the public but just for his personal fulfillment. 

Whether you were a great beauty or a simple flower, he decided he must see you, your secrets suddenly becoming a treasure he wished to take for himself.