#this art kick has been really good for me recently
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman.
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday.
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake.
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account.
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains.
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
"No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened.
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him.
"The keys?"
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him.
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes.
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know."
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.
What were you going to do now?
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped.
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer!
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks.
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall.
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors.
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger?
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance:
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window.
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles.
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles.
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.?
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye.
Shit.
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down.
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol?
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they?
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again.
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear.
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen.
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away.
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call.
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone.
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name.
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear.
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him.
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning.
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you.
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore. I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him.
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day.
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that.
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened.
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special.
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black.
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes.
But honestly?
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#x reader#x gn reader#x you#x y/n#yandere#milkman#milkman x reader#that's not my neighbor x reader#yandere francis mosses#yandere milkman
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Alright imma be real with ya'll...
I haven't been doing great mentally lately. You guys have constantly heard me bitching about my seasonal depression and it getting in the way of my artistic motivation yada yada lol Well, it just keeps refusing to let up. I've been trying to fight it, work through it, hoping that it would go away if I just keep working, when in all honesty that's mentally draining me even more. Now, there have been a few times where the drive to draw would come in spurts and I would finish a few small things here and there and I recently did the new blog banner and all, but as quickly as that motivation appears, it vanishes again. It's been an ongoing cycle since December, I haven't been very productive at all with the more important things and I've barely even touched the Baby Arc since SD hit. And lately this rut has started to bleed into things outside of art and affect my motitivation to do daily responsibilities as well, to the point half the time I feel like a vegetable while house work continues to pile up around me...I'm thinking I may need to do things a bit differently for awhile.
Obviously it's been too difficult to draw right now. My SD had never been this severe before, so there needs to be a change. I can't keep up my usual routine of wake up, go to work, come home, draw, repeat. I need a bit more variety for the time being, maybe making time to do other things that make me happy aside from art will do me some good. That being said though...ugh I hate this, I don't even wanna say it, but the Baby Arc might have to be put off yet again for awhile. I thought about all this last night and was literally crying over it because like, I'm finally here!! We made it to the point of Blu being officially introduced and then seasonal depression decides to come in and fuck up everything I've been trying to do. Like I took a step forward, then three steps back! It just really feels like a kick to my nonexistent balls man...Regardless I think a step back right now is necessary, so hopefully you guys understand, yall usually do anyways ^^
So yeah, I guess here's another art hiatus...don't expect to see anything probably until the end of February, or even March, cause I'm hoping the SD will start to go away by then
#this whole post makes me angry#but its something i feel i need to do anyway#for my sanity's sake#cant help but feel disappointed in myself though...#mod speaks#mod announcement#art hiatus
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Am I the asshole in this situation??
First of all I'm so sorry for bringing t/b discourse here but this has been so gd annoying I need help. And all this is is on twitter-retro etc.
I'm 100% here for switch please keep in mind. Idc what anyone else likes it's food I'll eat all of it. But this fandom. Oh this fandom. So here's the context, it's a anime show with a really popular almost canon mlm ship, one of them is crazy beautiful and the other one is a big muscular man. Naturally the fandom like the pretty man as bottom and the muscular man as top. Let's call this DC. Not all people tho and it's the problem.
See, there are some creators who hate the above dynamics so much they make the muscular man a woman, sometimes trans which is fine but they always babygirl him, call him wifey, use she/her pronouns, go all out to make the pretty man over the top masculine so he can be top while making the canon masculine man demure little wife. Note that they're both really tall but D has long hair so they always make him wear accessories to feminize him. I made friends with some authors who used to like switch, they wrote DC back then and they were so good. They were all into switch too. Over the years they became really hateful of DC dynamics and started to exclusively write CD, talk about CD only, rt CD art exclusively.
This is still fine, they're like 10 people out of thousands who don't care, and most people don't care. Until one day recently when I said it was better to ship switch. Those people started clowning me, saying it's their right to exclusively like whatever, write whatever, started ignoring how the show portrays them. They wrote literal threads detailing how to how use tags as if no one knows, shaded people who said they didn't care and would use whatever tags they liked. It got to a point I had to ask them to stop, they started saying I was harassing them and accused the fandom of harassing them on anon and ao3. When I said it Doesn't Matter they said it was racist to suggest that, telling me to block if I didn't like their posts. I could not make them understand how fetishistic it was, just because Japanese fans do this doesn't mean it's good or we have to follow? They somehow figured out who I was and blocked me, kicked me out of a server we were in together, so I lost mutuals and some followers too.
Then they started answering my asks unseriously like "I write CD to piss YOU off" "can't project on the twink like yall" and started insulting switch fans calling us hypocrits. There isn't much CD content to begin with how can I share more of those? Whatever is available they make it heteronormative like that. One of them deadass called me an asshole for "harassing" them just because I said it's rude to block people over t/b dynamics when no one is bothering anyone, because these people are always blocking anyone posting DC and making a bubble of CD only fans. This is bound to make them lose track of canon but who cares anymore. They keep complaining about being harassed for liking CD and yes some fans probably send anon hate but that doesn't mean any critic of CD is harassment?
Tell me how I'm the asshole here for suggesting they stop obsessing over t/b this much? How am I the asshole when I'm the one they all blocked and apparently I'm a bad guy because I followed some popular accounts who post DC and said some weird things about D which I didn't even know about.
What are these acronyms?
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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers
CHAPTER FOUR — HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS
PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT
summary: rules, you've recently learned, are for breaking– sanity is also, apparently, relative. after making a statement in the cafeteria, you play hooky with eddie in main street vinyl.
content warnings: MINORS DNI tension you would need a chainsaw to cut through, farm-to-table snarking, do they even know they're yearning, nancy wheeler i'm sorry i shittalked you again (it will get better i swear)
word count: 4k
Dear reader, do you ever feel like you’re completely losing your grasp on reality?
You’ve cruised through life almost seamlessly up to this point. Yours is a well-oiled machine, one you painstakingly built yourself. But do you ever feel like you’ve spent so much time constructing something so carefully that it doesn’t make sense to you anymore?
Like you can’t see the forest for the trees, or the treason for the thrill.
Do you ever want to light your whole life up in flames, just to see what’s really fireproof?
“So, which is it?”
You’re standing at your locker, making a bad job of touching up your now-flaking under-eye concealer when a voice rings out from the other end of the hall. It bounces off the cool metal of the lockers, the tack of the linoleum. It makes your shoulderblades go tense.
“Has little Lacy been hiding a pair of brass balls this whole time, or is she on a suicide mission?”
You’d roll your eyes, but your face is aching.
“Showing up with me this morning would have been one thing, but sitting yourself at my little table of outcasts? At lunch? The most important social event of the day?”
Munson lets out a low whistle from where he leans, a couple of lockers up from yours.
The hallway is deserted save for the both of you; you, out on a forged hall pass and him, probably just ditching to ditch. You peer at him from behind your locker door. He’s standing slanted in a long, lithe line made bold and jangly by his carefully curated metalhead armor.
You, and this comes with a hefty dose of begrudgery, have to hand it to him– he leans great.
“Talk about blowing up your reputation beyond repair.”
You know he’s making fun of you– he’s not exactly subtle about it, nor is he about anything. It’s all in the lilt of his tone, how ridiculous he thinks the interwoven politics of the cafeteria are, how dumb he thinks you are for considering that in the least bit important.
Munson’s idea of survival in high school is attacking conformity with a nuclear bomb, whereas yours is a little more artful.
“I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, Munson,” you sigh, and the sound rattles through your ribcage– you are tired, tired of him, “given that your understanding of object permanence has clearly been stunted at an infantile level, but the world does not revolve around you."
"No?!" he croons, sarcasm slicking out of him.
"I was catching up with Ronnie.”
“Right, because you guys have been such good gal pals up to this point,” Munson scoffs.
His face, framed by those wild waves, materializes in the reflection of your locker’s mirror, peering over your shoulder. You slam the door and pivot to face him properly, impact ringing out like a gunshot.
He does a little jump, a shadow of his shock at you on Harrington’s porch.
That reaction is like a shot of espresso straight to the veins.
Good. Be afraid. Asshole.
You're sure as fuck awake now!
“Lab partner love never dies,” you say, leveling his stare. “You’d know that if you showed up for Biology once in a while.”
“Maybe I need a tutor. I could use someone to help me brush up on anatomy.”
“Sorry. I don’t teach remedial.”
“Maybe you should start. Rehabilitate your image.”
“Again, who died and made you my parole officer?”
His expression cracks; a gasp of a laugh. “Oh, so you remember all that?”
“My hippocampus is alive and kicking.”
“Your hip– what?”
Your lips purse, and just as you’re about to throw another verbal dart at him, the voice of Ms O’Donnell cuts through the both of you.
“I hope you two have a damn good excuse for loitering in this hallway– because if not, Mr Munson, I believe you’re less than one detention away from suspension.”
Munson’s got this terminal disease where he’s more smarm than charm, despite his warped perception of himself. There’s no way he’s going to handle this with the grace that’s necessary, because O’Donnell hates him anyway.
He keens his head in the teacher’s direction, ready to roll out some useless excuse.
Before he’s even got the chance to speak, you cut him off.
“Hall pass, Ms O’Donnell.” You flash the fake yellow slip at her, careful to obscure the names– you’ve usually got one of these forgeries to hand, just in case you need it, and teachers generally trust you enough not to check them out. It comes with the whole work-life balance you’ve been treading for the entirety of your high school career; you’re well-liked and you’re maintaining an impressive grade point average. They don’t give a shit what you do other than that.
“The Weekly Streak has run into a printer snag and Nancy Wheeler’s car is on the fritz. Eddie,” his first name, which you never ever use, feels weird and heavy on your tongue, “offered me a ride to the printers to make sure it gets worked out– it’s a big issue. What with the game this weekend and everything.”
O’Donnell’s eyes narrow. You nudge Munson right in his funny bone– hard enough for him to wince.
“Right?”
“Right! That big game. Front page news, Ms O’D. Gooooo Tigers.”
The teacher clicks her tongue against her teeth, her rock hard stare challenging the delinquent beside you– it’s entirely likely that Munson could have blown it for himself just by virtue of being alive and in O’Donnells sight line, but you know she’s got no reason not to believe you.
See, your reputation at the school newspaper precedes you; it’s just about the only thing that really holds your interest within the monotonous structure of Hawkins High. With your finger on the pulse of Hawkins’ student body, it only makes sense that you serve as a fierce and unforgiving editor of the Streak’s society pages– funnily enough, that hardline professionalism included never giving Munson’s infamously lame Dungeons and Dragons club a single mention in them.
Vetoed, you’d drawled at one of the more well-mannered members that had shyly approached you about writing a piece. Not Ronnie– she knew better than that.
How come? they’d whined, as their fearsome leader glowered near the lockers just like he was doing now.
On grounds of irrelevance. I’m not wasting valuable inches on a make believe board game club.
This activated Munson. Lacy, you wouldn’t know valuable inches if they rammed you in the–
“Make it fast,” O’Donnell decrees, and you feel her watch you as you take off down the hallway. With a snappy quirk of your painted fingers, you gesture for Munson to follow your lead. And you better believe he does, almost tripping over his ratty Reeboks trying to keep in step with you.
You both heave open the double doors, squinting against the unseasonable late autumn sunshine. Heels of your ankle boots clicking against the concrete, you make an unconscious beeline for the parking lot– for Munson’s van.
“So– what now?” he asks, dur-dur dumb as all hell.
“What now is I just got you a free pass to play hooky,” you say, little miss cactus flower, prickly with annoyance. You shield your eyes against the blazing light. “Weren’t you ditching anyway?”
“Yeeaaah,” Munson hums, scratching the back of his head, “But… the plan kind of was to smoke a joint and go to the record store.”
“Doesn’t sound like a complete waste of time,” you hear yourself saying before you realize it, yanking at the van’s passenger door. You pause, raising an expectant eyebrow at Munson. Isn’t this your cue?
Baffled, bewildered, but grinning despite himself, he extends that silver ringed hand and helps you haul your ass into his beat up chariot.
Completely losing your grip on reality.
–
It’s a fugue state. It’s an out of body experience– you’re watching yourself from outside your corporeal form and you have no logical control over what you’re doing.
That’s the only way to explain why you’re standing in Main Street Vinyl, elbow to elbow with Eddie Munson.
But that might also be the weed talking.
You don’t know where the hell he gets this stuff, but it’s strong– way stronger than the shit he’s sold to your friends ever since he started dealing. Well, you guess it makes sense that he’d keep the good shit for himself. You’d do that too, if you were him.
What if I was him, you idly wonder, peering up at him as he flicks through letters R through T in the metal section. His tongue peeks out of his mouth as his ringed fingers work though the vinyl, carefully considering each one.
This is what you mean by obvious– you, for one, would have the good conscience not to look so stoned while you’re so stoned.
You definitely don’t look stoned right now.
No one can even tell that you’re looking at him, up from underneath those thick lashes of yours.
He’s got thick lashes too, come to think of it.
Munson is actually not completely unfortunate looking– but again, if you were him, there’s no way you’d wear your hair like that. You’d keep it long-ish, though, you think. He’s got a point there; a nice curl pattern. Maybe to your ears. And the clothes obviously have to go– that denim vest is a patchwork disaster. Did he sew all those patches on himself?
A vision of him hunched over the thing with a needle and thread in hand flits through your brain, pricking himself more than he can pick up a stitch. He’s gone out of his way to make himself look like this– kind of similar to the way you pick up your skirts so they’re always impeccably just short enough.
Now, the leather jacket you could forgive if at least the collar was different. Maybe one of those Brando-style biker jackets, you could rock that. Or a brown leather number, to bring out your eyes– which are his eyes, of course, his crazy dark empty universes of eyes.
The kind of eyes with the kind of stare that nails you in place and makes you want to do crazy shit like ditch class and get loaded and stand dumbly in a record store. Those eyes.
That are staring at you. He’s staring at you. Right back at you.
“I can read your mind,” Munson monotones, unblinking.
You go flush, heat crawling all the way up to your ears. “Wh–what?”
Then he nudges you and snorts, breaking the spell.
“You have gotta stop thinking such dirty thoughts about me, ice princess. You’re gonna melt.”
You scoff, shaking your head– but the cartoonish move is more to ground you in reality than a reaction to him and his idiocy. You’re Wile E Coyote after blunt force impact with an Acme anvil, shaking the circling birds away.
“They don’t even have what I’m looking for here.”
Stalking around the stacks of records, with no clear direction in mind, you feel Munson’s laser stare follow you. “Yeah, they don’t usually file Madonna next to Motörhead, Lacy.”
They’re both filed under M, aren’t they? is what you want to say. “I don’t listen to Madonna,” you protest instead, all quietly miffed and earnest with a crinkle in your brow.
“Mm, don’t think that’s true,” Munson smirks, rounding on you around the rack. “You gave me a pretty spot on rendition of Like a Virgin– or does your hippocrampus not recall?”
“Hippocampus,” you breathe out, but it’s lost in the din of Main Street Vinyl’s quiet, carpeted atmosphere, “I don’t listen to her, like, recreationally. I can’t help if that song’s an earworm.” A beat. “I also can’t help if you’re a particularly serenadable virgin.”
“She’s gonna touch me for the very first tii-iime…”
“That was a threat.”
You make an active attempt toward tunnel vision as you slowly tread through the store, feeling the high starting to turn on you– this was the part smoking weed that you hated, the few times that you’d imbibed in it. That lack of control over the way you were coming across. For a girl trained in the art of saying all the right things, this was dangerous. Your tongue felt both loose and heavy in your mouth, like it could come out with anything and you couldn’t stop it, it’d just roll on out.
The malevolent presence of Munson and your pathological need to one up him wasn’t helping matters.
Ever since the parking lot at school, you’ve been stalking around like there’s a target on your back. Evidently, you’re not the kind of girl that chills out when you smoke, which is equal parts a relief and a disappointment to Eddie. He wonders what you’d look like, mellowed out and floating. Your eyebrow unarched and your lips not poised for attack.
He’s also acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with you then, either.
But he can’t tear his eyes away from you, a hyperfocus that he’s assuming is a symptom of his own buzz. Every little twitch and jump you do– it’s like it’s begging him to pay attention. Like if he looks away for even a second, he might miss something.
“What are you looking for?” he asks, eyes trained on you while you thumb through the records.
As much as you love music, and you do, you have a tough time describing exactly what you want to listen to. The notes in the songs that you revisit again and again read more like physical feelings, sparking off in your nerve endings. For example, listening to River by Joni Mitchell feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest. Listening to Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees feels like you have fairy lights at the end of your fingertips.
“I want something that sounds…” you say, noticing the distinct feeling of cottonmouth setting in, “Ticklish.”
“Ticklish,” Munson deadpans back at you.
“Something that sounds like someone’s running a xylophone mallet down my spine.”
He regards you for what feels like an excruciatingly long timewith this terrible, awful look on his face– brows ticked up over his glassy bloodshot eyes, pink mouth peeling into a grin, and this look, this look of wonderment. Like he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re saying shit like this to him.
Join the club.
“... You don’t get stoned a lot, do you?”
“Ugh!” you groan, a little louder than you mean to– the cashier shoots you a glare as you stalk past Munson, stalk past him, cheeks flaring pink. “I know what I’m talking about. I know it when I hear it– I heard a record just like that earlier this year! It’s like, some band from Scotland or something? Totally incomprehensible lyrics, yeah, but that’s what it felt like. It was like… bone deep.”
You hear Munson emit the teeniest hehe! and you just about snarl at him over your shoulder.
Rounding on the alternative section, limited as it is, you feel a welcome sense of familiarity. You haunt this corner when you can, when you’re out of sight from prying eyes. There’s only one other regular purveyor of this little corner of Main Street Vinyl that you know of. You trace a thumb over the spines of the cassette cases–it’s mostly tapes, rarely ever records because tapes are easier to import and harder to damage, and it’s always haphazardly organized–and then you spot it.
Victoriously, you thrust it in Munson’s face, which is right over your shoulder. He’s frequenting that spot a lot recently. “Ha!”
“Oh!” he chirps, sounding almost pleasantly surprised and plucks the tape from your fingers. “... Cocteau Twins?”
You falter, eyelashes flickering as you look up at him. Dammit. He even pronounced it right.
“You know them?” You hate how high your voice sounds.
He runs a thumb over the plastic casing, edging a little closer to you. That came outta left field.
“This shit… sounds like what a haunted music box would sound like.”
Aaand we’re back in the room.
“Okay…?”
“This is creepy, cursed doll music.”
And the room is filled with assholes.
“Alright.”
“This is what you hear right before you’re about to get possessed by the ghost of Tiny Tim. The whiniest little bitch ghost of all time.”
And all the assholes are named Eddie Munson.
“I get it.”
“You better be careful with this stuff, Lacy-Wacy,” he teases, mocking that fraudulent concern ripped straight from an episode of Donahue. He taps the cassette case against your forehead. “Music like this is a gateway drug. A gateway drug to hanging out with, like, Jonathan Byers.”
You reach out and grab his wrist, tugging his hand and that damn tape away from your face. You’re shocked to find that the skin under your fingers is blazing hot–same as you felt through his shirt when he helped you to the door in your drunken stupor.
Does he always run this warm? you wonder. Is it all that Satanic poseur poison coursing through his stupid veins?
“Well, it’s a little late for that,” you tell him, and you’re not quite sure why. Probably because every secret you swore would die with you is slowly but surely punching its gnarly hand from the grave, like fucking Carrie from fucking Carrie.
Munson doesn’t even express any overt shock, like he’s learning to roll with the punches of you revealing bits and pieces of yourself through sheer annoyance with him. He just cocks his head, challenging you with a silent, Really?
This chick. This blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chick.
“I ran into him in this corner a lot,” you explain breezily, tilting a shoulder up like it doesn’t bother you, like it’s never bothered you. “We’d always be standing next to each other at the listening booths, and I’d be listening to stuff I couldn’t take home and he’d be listening to stuff he couldn’t afford to buy and… We like a lot of the same music. We went out on like, one date if you could even call it that, and it didn’t work out.”
“Because he’s a creepazoid?”
“Because he was hip deep in it for Nancy Wheeler,” you supply, a green monster gurgling in the pit of your stomach. “Like every other respectable member of the male species.”
It was the summer before junior year, a punishingly hot one even by Hawkins standards. You’ve never been good in the heat and that summer made your entire body feel ill-equipped, your skin ill-fitting. Main Street Vinyl had those big, big box fans right near the cash desk which was right near the listening booths, so you would spend the majority of your time there when you weren’t being forced to the lake or Skull Rock with your friends.
Jonathan would look at you with alarm at first, like you were trespassing. Then he’d spy what you were listening to and sneak these small, shy smiles at you that you indulged in– at first, because you weren’t copping a lot of male attention from anyone else that summer. Eventually, it was because his shadowy eyes were always ringed with this tenderness, with knowing. Like you two were sharing a secret. It made you be able to look past the greasy hair and crippling social awkwardness.
You know you rocked his world the day you breezed past him at the listening booth, leaned in and whispered, I love Linda Thompson's voice, don't you?
But still, the Love’s Baby Soft scented specter of Nancy Wheeler loomed large. You picked what you thought was a secluded spot in the park for your ‘date’, which included a conversation that was almost entirely cruise directed by you. Said conversation completely flatlined when you both spotted Nancy Wheeler cresting a hill, walking her family dog.
At this point, you and Nancy were most familiar with each other from the school newspaper– she, the peachy-cheeked junior, the rising star that was sure to make editor and you, the girl who knew where the parties were happening and where the bodies were buried.
The picture of coquettishness, she offered you and Jonathan an awkward, stilted wave. Jonathan spoke a grand total of three words after she left, zeroing in on the spot where she appeared like a man possessed.
You didn’t acknowledge his existence after that.
It’s not that you were particularly hung up on Jonathan Byers, but you didn’t expect someone like him to be able to elicit that cold sinking feeling you were used to experiencing at the hands of other boys and their ignorance. Maybe it hurt more because you thought you had something in common– something real, something that wasn’t shotgunning a can of Busch. Whatever it was, it made you sure of two things.
You hated Nancy Wheeler, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
You wished you didn’t hate her. But you also wished she’d dissolve into a fine mist.
“Wheeler’s a priss,” Munson pulls you out of memory lane in a harsh left turn, face contorting into a half-grimace. It’s the general consensus on Wheeler– the shoes are too goody for everyone to be falling head-over-heels with her, if you want Eddie’s honest opinion. There’s no there there, not like with–
“I’m a priss.” It sounds like you’re defending her. In some weird way, you might be.
I know what guys like you think of me.
“No, you’re a bitch.”
His weight on the word bitch makes your knees feel unsteady. The way he says it. It’s not enunciated like an insult. It’s a dagger cloaked in velvet. It’s warm, like he is. It’s almost filthy. It makes you look at his mouth.
“You’re a stone cold killer bitch,” Eddie’s voice hums low in his chest. His heartbeat is picking up, and he wonders if you can feel it where your freezing fingertips are squeezing his pulse point, “and I think–”
“You two truant assholes gonna buy anything today or am I gonna have to call the goddamn dog warden on y’all?”
Heaved back into reality by the clerk at the cash desk. A trickle of cold sweat runs from the nape of your neck into the collar of your sweater. Heaved back into reality to see you’re still clutching Eddie Munson by the wrist, and he’s looking at you like you’re the last Popsicle. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day.
It gets so hot here in summer.
“I think,” you breathe as you unstick your fingers from him, suddenly aware that you’re parched and starving and your face hurts, “it’s time for me to go home.”
“I– yeah,” Munson stumbles, also perturbed by the interruption. His red-ringed eyes gain a little more clarity. He’s seeing something you’re not seeing. He shouldn't be letting himself see that. “Let’s go.”
Let’s go back to the van. Let me make you look at me like that again. Let me see if you’re cold all over. I can fix that.
“No, I gotta…” Your head pounding, your thoughts swimming– the sharp and stupid realness of this whole afternoon coming into perfect view. What are you doing? “I need to walk it off.”
He inhales sharply, a strangled chuckle– oof. That other shoe, that buckled heel of yours, clattering to the floor. He should have expected that, right? There’s no way you’d wanna… Because you’re you and he’s…
Eddie retreats back into himself a step or two; it looks like he’s gone all bashful, a little color dropping out of his cheeks. His hands clasping behind his back. His heart is in his big intestine.
“That’s the second time you’ve turned me down today, sweetheart. Keep it up, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t like me.”
Munson, get the fuck out of here before I ban you again! and Jerry, can’t you see me talking to somebody right now! explode in a cacophony, the boy and the keeper of the keys to the record store hollering at each other. You take this moment of interruption to nudge the door open with your shoulder. But you don’t start into the street without giving him one more look.
“Lacy.” He’s grinning this dumb grin, eyes gone soft at the corners.
He’s giving this one last nudge.
Your heart thumps. A reminder– this is really happening. Shit. Fuck.
“That’s the thing, though,” you say, attempting to smooth your expression out with a frosty smile. “I don’t like you, Eddie.”
author's notes: of course, my eternal eternal ETERNAL THANKS for all the love you have shown this story and the anons you've sent!!! writing is crazy so thank you for caring about mine. onto the fun stuff because you know i love a reference:
- he leans great. a shameless my so-called life drop but eddie to me is a kind of stunning midpoint between catalano (left back twice) and krakow (would go down on you for days)
- someone in the tags said ronnie and lacy should hold hands and i don't disagree. lab partner love never dies!
- there's never a bad time to listen to ace of spades by motörhead
- there's also never a bad time to listen to treasure by cocteau twins, which is the album lacy is referencing
- i always fee like the zombie hand reaching out of the ground motif is unfairly accredited to the living dead franchises or something like that, but of course the most iconic instance to me is from carrie (1976) because women own horror
- god, we really need to bring back listening booths in record stores! like we really need to bring them back lest romance die forever.
- richard and linda thompson, also forever!!!!! my headcanon for this re: jonathan byers is this particular record is a joyce byers influenced choice. joyce and lonnie loved this record (when they were happy... lol) and played it all the time when jonathan was a baby. their original copy got lost (or destroyed) and sometimes jonathan will play it in the main street listening booth but he won't bring it home because he knows it's painful for his mom.
- all my stone cold killer bitches in the house make some noise
- jerry from main street vinyl you will always be rob from high fidelity in MY HEART (eddie is barry even though he doesn't work there lmao)
- ok my hellcats! that's all the cultural education for this chapter!! thanks again for reading, reblog and scream at me in the asks because i so appreciate (and need) the support and i'd also love y'all to send me prompts! don't be shy! i love an in-universe blurb!
#published by powder#in progress#hellfire & ice#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#stranger things fic#eddie munson x f!reader#e. munson by powder
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GRRRRR IMAGINE TAILUNG ( from kungfu panda ) WITH a leopard reader who has a smaller body than him, LIKE IMAGINE WITH THE SIZE DIFFERENCE HOW NICE CUDDLING WOULD BEEEE
All right so obviously I have to change some things around in terms of story. In this Tai Lung when finding out he is not the Dragon Warrior decides to continue training at the Jade Palace as a master, he is considerably less violent but will still be sassy, and in this au he is actually good friends with Po. This one will be small do to a lack of specificity on what you want and nothing to really base off of.
Tai Lung x Leopard Reader (GN)
Tai Lung has been training for a while and Y/N just wants to cuddle
3rd Person P.O.V.
Sounds of kung fu could be heard from the pool of sacred tears as Master Tai Lung was training with the Dragon Warrior, Po.
“If that is all you can do Panda I just might claim the title of Dragon Warrior yet,” Tai Lung jokingly mocked as the two dueled.
“Don’t start thinking this fight is over just yet Tai Lung, KICK OF AWESOMENESS!!!!” Po yelled as he kicked at Tai Lung’s stomach.
“Po you know I can easily block that right?” Tai Lung said as he flips Po over him.
“Yeah but it gives me the chance to do this,” Po revealed as he stepped on Tai Lungs tail.
“AHH! Mother of - ”
“Tai Lung are you still training!” A voice yelled, one that is able to strike fear into the hearts of legendary warriors such as Tai Lung, Po, and even Master Shifu himself.
1st Person P.O.V.
Here I am walking all the way up to the pool of sacred tears when Tai Lung said he would be done training hours ago, after the recent attack on the Valley by Kai he started training more and more and it is like I barely see him any more. I get he wants to train to protect the people of the Valley but I still want him to come home before I go to sleep.
Once I get to the top of the mountain I see Po and Tai Lung shivering which is weird because even if we are this high up it is still pretty warm out.
“You promised to be home hours ago,” I angrily reminded my partner.
“I’m sorry dear you see we just lost track of time,” He said honestly and guiltily.
“Heroes of the Valley my butt you two would lose your heads without me and Shifu here to make sure you don’t overwork yourselves come,” The statement came from a place of care as me and Tai Lung were partners in every way, romantically, as well as in Kung Fu. While I do not train in the ancient art and am smaller than the likes of him and Po, and would likely easily lose most fights, I make sure Tai Lung takes care of himself.
“You’re right dear, let’s go home and rest,” He suggested.
— — —
We ate dinner in silence and were now in bed, also in silence.
“Are you still made at me Y/N?” He asked.
I growled in response, confirming his question.
“I’m sorry that we were training for so long, and I know it probably does not make up for it but we did genuinely lose track of time,” He apologized.
“But why do you have to train so much? I want you to be home more,” I asked.
“When Kai attacked I was almost powerless to stop him, I didn’t want to have that feeling of you not being safe anymore, I want to always be able to protect you,” He said.
I suddenly curl up into him and bury my face into his chest, “Just shut it you big lug,”
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@utaackerman14
Hi so how about like the reader is a cadet in the survey corpse and the reader is hiding their status as an omega and the Levi some how finds out and it gets spicy
So due to cadets being 15 years old in the survey corps, I'm going to change this so everyone is in their 20s.
@kenkopanda-art <3
My Omega
Pairing: Alpha!Levi x Fem Omega!Reader
Genre and tags: Omegaverse, canon world, fluff, romance, talks of heats, suggestive words and material, Alpha and Omega, smut, rough smut, mentions of mating and knotting, biting, passionate, unprotected.
Concept: Levi has recently joined the scouts and he's getting to know everyone in the group. He doesn't know why, but he's rather fond of a scout who cooks. Levi loves your scent and is drawn to you and you are to Levi. Levi soon discovers you're an Omega and his instincts kick in.
Taglist: @ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @skittlelover69 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @nbinairyn @demonsimp6
Levi felt a bit restless and he didn't know why. He couldn't settle as if he had an itch that he couldn't scratch. He was irritable, so he decided to take a walk and see if that would soothe him. He just needed to walk the scout halls and possibly have a cup of tea or talk to someone.
He stopped when his autopilot turned off and he realised he was on a path in the woods. He frowned as he looked around trying to figure out where he was and why he walked this way. He felt frustrated with himself and thought it was possibly due to losing his friend to a titan.
He was still new to the scouts and didn't know anyone really. He wasn't close to any member of the scouts and it pulled on his heart. He felt alone and knew he had to reach out more. However, there was one person that came to mind when he thought about being close to, you.
You and Levi had slowly gotten to know each other over wonderful cups of tea made by you. You had introduced him to so many different kinds of tea, along with some of the best treats he's ever eaten. You brought him great comfort and you made him think and feel things he'd never felt before. You flustered him.
"Levi?"
Levi flinched when he heard your soothing voice. He turned and looked down a side path to see you. He sweetly said your name and hurried over to you as if you had a magnetic pull. "Are you okay?"
You hummed a laugh. "I am. I came out here to have a little picnic."
He looked around. "A date?"
You sighed as you felt your cheeks heat up. "By myself." You smiled at him. "Would you like to join me?"
Levi felt excitement rush through him. "Yes, I'd love to."
You walked with Levi towards a little patch by a small river. You put a blanket out and made tea for you and Levi along with some snacks. You smiled at Levi as he ate quickly and seemed so excited and happy to be with you. You just smiled at seeing him so happy.
You shifted a little closer to Levi. "How are you feeling?"
Levi inhaled deeply and felt drunk on your scent. "You smell good."
Your heart skipped a beat as you and Levi gazed at each other. "Th-thank you." You gulped hard as a delicious scent rolled off Levi. You felt yourself getting hungry and a little loopy. "You...you too."
Levi clenched his fist around his cup and looked away. "I uh...you asked me a question...I feel better."
"I'm glad." You fiddled with your trousers. "I've been worried about you."
"Really? That makes me happy."
You gazed at Levi and smiled at him. "You know, you can always come to me whenever you need company." You reached over to him. "I'm here for y-."
As soon as you and Levi touched hands electricity shot through the two of you. You stared at each other and felt strong urges towards each other. You held your breath as he played with your hand a little and moved closer to you. You whined a bit and tilted your head ready for a kiss.
You turned your head when you heard people talking and getting closer. You packed the food up and stammered your words. "Th-thank you for joining m-me. I umm I need to get to Hange for m-medical reasons."
Levi frowned. "Are you sick?"
You stood up and hummed. "I-I have a sickness, yes, b-but it's manageable."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Ye...mm...u-uh. I-I'll talk to you s-soon."
Levi stood up and watched you run off with your basket, but you left the blanket behind. He folded up the blanket and hugged it close to him. He slowly made his way back to the base as he thought about you. He always felt a strong pull to you and didn't know why. He knew he was an alpha, but he was sure you were just a beta like everyone else.
He followed your scent all the way to Hange's office and overheard the conversation inside.
You whined a little. "Hange, it's getting worse."
"Worse?"
You sighed. "Yes. The suppressants are great, but for some reason they're losing their strength. Is this normal for Omegas?"
Levi's eyes widened. "Omega?" He softly whispered so he wouldn't be heard.
Moblit cleared his throat. "Perhaps there has been a change? You've been okay for a while."
You whined a bit. "I've been spending a lot of time with Levi." The room went quiet before you spoke up. "What's with those looks?"
Hange laughed. "I think, my sweet, you have found your alpha!"
"Alpha? Levi's an alpha?"
"He sure is. You're lucky you've found each other. He's a good man. He'll look after you and he'll help you out with these feelings and needs."
You whined a bit. "I feel guilty for that."
Moblit hummed a laugh. "Do you like him more than a friend?"
"I do. I really like him a lot. I like him so much, I just don't want him to think I'm using him." You mewled a little. "I would like to be with him. Oh, but being an Omega with an Alpha, I might have to live with him and do less work."
"Don't worry, Erwin will be okay with all that."
Hange hummed in agreement. "He'll support you both. We're prepared for this since we were aware an Omega joined us."
You let out a long sigh. "Guess I mess this all up."
"You don't, darling, you don't. You were born this way and you have every right to be treated like everyone else. You'll be okay. Just have a chat with Levi."
You hummed in agreement. "Thank you, both of you. I'll see you soon."
Levi panicked a bit you were going to discover him. He knew he couldn't run and hide because you'd likely smell him. He stepped back and waited for you. He smiled a little when you walked out and saw him. He said your name with a bit of a stammer. "Hello."
You stared at Levi for a while and felt your cheeks burn. "Hello."
"I ah...I followed your scent and umm...I heard what was said."
You grabbed Levi's hand and hurried down the hall with him. You yanked him into your private room and slammed the door shut before locking it. You held the door handle and thought about the things you'd tell Levi. You wanted to talk it over with him and possibly reach an understanding.
Levi's breath hitched when your scent in your room overwhelmed him. He felt his desires and instincts bubbling up inside him. He eyed the door in the corner and knew it was your bedroom. He wanted to go in there so badly and roll around in your sheets. He wanted to press you against your bed, make a nest there and mate with you until he had nothing left to give.
"Levi?"
He turned to face you and saw you were panting a little meaning your suppressants weren't working as well as they should and he was putting you into heat. He was sure that this was because you had such strong romantic feelings for him, so your feelings were causing your desires to fight the suppressants.
He moved closer to you making you back up towards your door. "Yes?"
You gulped hard. "It is true. I'm an Omega and I've been taking things so people don't know." Your legs shook as you felt an overwhelming build-up of arousal. "I um...I have met other Alphas, but there is something about you." You squeaked a bit when Levi caged you in by placing his hands on the door on either side of you. "You do things to me. I know you probably don't feel the same, but Levi..."
Levi pressed his body against yours and kissed you roughly. He bit your lip making you moan before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moaned in delight at how sweet and delicious you tasted. He felt as if he was finally kissing his soulmate. He was starving for you.
You wrapped your arms around Levi's neck and leaned into him and kissed him back with just as much passion. You felt so complete kissing your Alpha. You needed Levi, you needed him to be inside you. You needed him to mate with you and knot you. You craved it so badly.
Levi growled into the kiss and started fumbling with your belt and trousers. He yanked them open and tried to pull your trousers down as his erection strained against his trousers. He grunted as he got frustrated when your trousers got caught on your straps.
He shoved his hand down into your trousers and touched the outside of your panties and felt how soaked you were. He pulled from your lips dragged his hand out and studied his hand. "So much..."
You whimpered. "Levi."
He licked his fingers and felt like he could just cum at the taste. "Delicious."
You panted and gripped his shirt. "Give me a bonding mark. Mate with me. Please, I need it."
Levi growled and attacked the crook of your neck. He bit hard and made sure you had the biggest bonding mark possible. He wanted and needed people to know you were all his. He needed to be inside you now but your trousers were being difficult.
You fumbled with Levi's trousers and freed his hard and throbbing cock. You pumped your hand on him and felt he was slick with precum. You glanced down to see his tip was angry and needed to be inside you. You were desperate as well and felt like your arousal was running down your thighs.
You whimpered. "Levi, rip my trousers open."
Levi grabbed your white trousers and used his Alpha strength to tear them open at the front, along with your panties. He picked you up and pressed you against the door. He was so desperate and in a deep rut for you that he started humping right away and missing your pussy and simply rubbed along your slit.
You reached down and lifted his cock up and allowed him to slam into your pussy. You both moaned out in pleasure at finally being one. You gripped Levi's back and moaned as fucked your pussy at an unrelenting pace. You held on for dear life as your juices covered Levi's cock and dripped onto the floor below.
Levi panted as his big thick cock pounded in and out of your hot and wet pussy. He was in bliss at feeling your silken pussy walls around him. You were dragging him back in every time he pulled back. You were squeezing his cock as if your body was begging him to cum inside you. He was drooling at how cute your moans were.
"Le-Levi."
Levi gazed at you and adored the flushed look on your face and how you were in euphoric paradise from his actions. He called your name to you. "My Omega. Mine." He growled at you. "Mine, all mine. Mine to breed."
You moaned in delight. "Yours! All yours! Breed me, Alpha. Knot me. I need it. I need you."
Levi kissed you roughly as you whimpered and whined at him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. He growled against your lips as the room filled with the sounds of your wet pussy being ravaged by his cock, your pleading moans for him to cum, the slapping your your hips together, the slight thudding of the door and his primal grunts.
He inhaled deeply and felt driven even more for you. You were filling the whole room with your scent of arousal and pleasure Levi was drunk on you and your Omega scent. He was addicted to you and was going to keep you as his forever. He moved his hips hard and fast as he tried to fuck his feelings into you.
You leaned your head back against the door and cried out in pleasure. "A-Ah! C-coming!" You screamed in delight as you came hard around Levi. Your legs shook harshly around him as you felt your veins burn. "Levi."
Levi carried you to your bedroom door and kicked it open. He yanked his cock out of you and threw you onto your bed making you whimper and cry and not feeling Levi inside you. He kicked the door closed and panted heavily as his hunger consumed him again. He watched you write and wiggle on the bed with need.
You mewled at Levi. "Alpha, please." You shift and pushed your torn trousers off and panties. "Please." You pleaded with him as his cock twitched and his base swelled a little with his knot. You turned onto your stomach and raised your hips. "Alpha Levi." You reached down and pulled your pussy open for him a little. "Mate with me. Give me your knot."
Levi ripped his trousers off and let go of the last of his restraint. He dove onto you and slammed his cock into your open pussy. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them before biting the back of your neck and bucking into you so hard and fast that his hips spanked your buttocks. He needed you more than ever.
You drooled against the bed as Levi ravaged you just the way you needed him to. You felt your arousal spilling down your thighs and onto the bed. You wiggled your arms a little and smiled when Levi moved his hands and entwined his fingers with yours. You whined at him and shivered in delight.
Levi released your neck and kissed you roughly. "I love you."
You smiled at him. "I love you too."
He panted and grunted as he felt his knot swell. "I love you so much." He whined at you. "Be mine. Be only mine."
You nodded and mewled at him. "Yes. You and me."
He kissed you one last time before kneeling up and grabbing your hips and pounding hard into you. He stared down at his cock pumping in and out of you. He shivered and whimpered as his knot kept tapping against your pussy. He needed to push it into you, but he wanted you to cum first.
He called your name. "Touch yourself."
You reached down and moved your fingers against your clit. "Yes, Alpha." You almost howled in pleasure as your eyes rolled back. "Fuck. Levi. S-so good! You're perfect. Your cock is perfect. Give me more." You cried out in pleasure as Levi pressed you against the bed under the weight of his body. You bit your fist and tried your best to move your hand under you as Levi humped you against the bed. "Mmm!"
Levi panted as he felt his urge building up. "Mate. My Omega. Mine."
You bucked hard and screamed in pleasure as a spine-tingling orgasm ripped through your body making you shake and spasm under your lover. "A-Ah! Kn-knot me!"
Levi plunged his knot into you making you and him moan in unison at him being fully connected with you. He bucked a few times against you before pressing in as deep as he could go. He smiled when you lifted your hips a little allowing him to go even further and his tip pressed past your cervix
He wrapped his arms around you and bit you hard as he poured his seed deep into you. He panted through his nose as ribbons of hot sticky cum entered your pussy. He released his jaws on you and panted a little. He licked your wound and hummed in happiness.
You giggled as Levi nuzzled the crook of your neck for attention. You turned your head and smiled at Levi. "Thank you for helping me with that sudden heat. I know it'll come rushing back soon, but I appreciate it."
Levi kissed you and sighed. "I meant what I said. I love you and I want you. I want you to be mine. This isn't about you being and Omega and me an Alpha, this is about me having very strong feelings for you."
You welled up and smiled at Levi. "I meant it all too. I want to be yours as well."
He hugged you and kissed you. "I intended this to be more romantic instead of confessing while my cock is in you and we're knotted and I'm still kind of cumming."
You laughed a little. "Cute."
"Ngh, don't laugh too much. It feels good and gets me riled up."
You giggled a bit. "Sorry, sorry."
Levi blushed and played with your hair. "You're so pretty. Oh, I guess we'd need to live together now so I can protect you from other Alphas."
You nodded and hummed in happiness. "I'd like that."
"I like you." He played with your hair. "I love you." He said your name as he blushed hard. "I love you."
You whined a little. "I love you too, Levi. I wish I could hug you."
He shifted. "Wait..." He grunted as he managed to pull out of you. "Okay."
You rolled onto your back and hugged Levi tightly. "Mm, mine."
Levi rolled onto his side with you and wrapped his body around you. He smiled sweetly as he snuggled close. "Mine. All mine."
#omegaverse#jelly fanfics#levi ackerman#levi#aot levi#levi x you#fanfic#levi fanfiction#aot fanfiction#levi x reader#levi x y/n#snk levi#alpha levi#omega reader#aot x reader smut#levi smut#levi x reader smut#fanfic smut#levi ackerman x you#levi x reader fluff#captain levi x reader#captain levi x you#levi x yn#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x y/n#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x female reader
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I know I'm not active on here anymore, but I need a place to get this off my chest.
And Tumblr is where I found my creativity so I guess it fits
It has been so difficult to create anything as of recent. Ive lost so much confidence in what I do with so many shortcomings with my art. And I feel as if part of it is my fault- other parts its completely out of my hands.
Yes, Ai art and the industry tossing creatives aside hasnt been the most encouraging thing in the world. Its a good reason as to why i've been feeling not so great with creating things.
In 2022, I suffered a really bad art burnout. I didnt draw anything for a year. I started to kick it back up again in 2023. I found a lot of comfort in spending a lot of time drawing my OC's- which was far different than what I used to do- which was a shit ton of fanart. It definetely ignighted my spark and I really started to draw what I loved.
I really felt I was diving back into what I was really passionate about.
But I guess i could never escape how badly I relied on external validation for things I make. Because if I truely reflect, I've mostly drawn things for others. And I kept tellling myself that that was something I found comfort in. Getting feedback from an external source is where I grounded my validation for so many years and I really need to break out of that habit. And I'm back in a rut where I'm not finding interest or enjoyment in it anymore.
But its rough- I know OC content doesnt get much attention online, not compared to fanart at least. But seeing numbers dwindle on social def hit the brain a little to hard. I know I cant ever beat the algorithm but it still does suck a whole lot
The art burnout at the start of this year hit me so hard like a 500kg Eagle Strike. I can tell that im forcing any art that I put out. But I look at the recent stuff i make, wether it be a sketch or an illustration, and just feel so disheartened. I dont hate it, I dont critique it- I just feel disheartned by it.
And I know its affecting other parts in my life. Im a lot more moody and irritable, and I have this lingering worry that its starting to affect my social circles. I do my best to check in with my friends and partner but anxiety really just isnt kind at times.
I know time is going to be my friend in overcoming burnout- I know I've overworked myself. I just hate how I'm starting to resent the things I was so passionate about.
But really, I needed to get this off my chest somewhere.
Thanks for hanging friends
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Hello! I’ve recently fell in love with your blog again after not being on tumblr a while. Your writing scratches my brain in just the right way and reading your posts is all I’ve been doing to pass the time at my cubicle recently. One of my favorite niche tropes is when the two romantic rivals in a love triangle fall for each other instead of the person they were originally pining for. I was wondering if you would write a snippet based off of that prompt? super excited to see what you come up with if you do!!
"I said you can have her, if she wants you."
It was raining. A pathetic fallacy of rain. A spitting, upchuck of misery. Langston dragged a hand over his face, glancing up at the lack of retreating footsteps. Back out the rain. Back to the party. Back to her.
Nate stood awkwardly in the downpour, resembling nothing so much as a drowned cat - feline elegance turned into something sad and soggy.
"It's okay," Nate said. "I mean, if you really love her...I wouldn't want to get in the way."
Langston had thought he did. He'd been sure of it three months ago. But now...he studied Nate, heart thumping something stupid in his chest. He hadn't expected that.
"Seriously?"
Nate shrugged, wrapping his arms tight around himself to ward off the chill. He had nice arms. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don't want to be the consolation prize she has because you left."
"I don't think you're anyone's consolation prize," Langston scoffed, before he could stop himself. "I mean, look at you."
"...What?"
Langston coloured. "She'd be stupid not to pick you!"
Nate blinked.
"I mean - you always show up for her," Langston said, his throat feeling tight. "For anyone who needs you, actually. And your art is amazing, man. So, you're like ridiculously talented and handsome and actually a good guy." He shrugged, colour creeping up his face despite the chill as Nate stared at him. "I just mean - I get it."
He thought maybe he should start walking. Start running. Hadn't he left to get some air? To get away? To maybe not picture the two of them kissing?
He hadn't expected Nate to be the one chasing after him. Not that he'd expected her to, but...
Well. After all the chasing he'd done, maybe it would have been nice. Maybe it could have meant something. Instead, it hurt to even think about her name.
"Do you want to go grab a drink?" Nate asked.
"...what?"
"Bloody tragic out here," Nate said. He swept over, patting Langston's shoulder as he passed. "C'mon."
Dumbly, Langston followed.
They ended up at the local a few streets away, ensconced in a cosy booth with two beers and the central heating on full blast.
"Honestly," Nate said. "She's kind of pissing me off in how she's treating you. Us."
It wasn't the opener that Langston expected. He raised his brows.
"I mean, it's not really fair, is it?" Nate pressed. "The way she's been jerking us around? Pitting us against each other?"
"It didn't feel...great," Langston allowed.
He'd thought, two months ago, when he first felt things beginning to shift beneath him, that if she really loved either of them that she would have made a choice. Better to let down one of them, right? But every time he thought she'd chosen, suddenly it felt like she was in the middle again. It was driving him bananas.
Then, the more he'd seen of Nate, of how hard he'd tried to be good enough for her, the more he'd realised that actually Nate was fantastic.
"We deserve to feel great about ourselves, right?" Nate exclaimed. His conviction was a little infectious, so Langston nodded. "Because, you know, you're a great guy too." Nate nudged his foot under the table. "You're so smart. Funny. And, you know, you show up too."
"It's what you do when you care about someone," Langston mumbled.
"Right!" Nate said.
It struck Langston, suddenly, that Nate really was there. He'd left the party for him without a second glance.
"Thanks," he said.
"I wasn't going to leave you out in the rain like a kicked puppy, mate." Nate held his beer up to clink. Langston did and took a swig. "Cute as you are," Nate added.
Langston promptly choked on his beer, coughing.
Nate grinned. "Cheers."
"Bastard."
Nate laughed. His eyes shone. He continued to study Langston for a beat after his laugh faded, his head tilted to the side.
"So, just putting this out there," Nate said. "But you know I'm bi, right?"
"I..." Langston felt a little lightheaded. "I did know that, actually, yeah."
She had come to him about it when she found out. He'd already started noticing Nate at that point, but figured it was only because the other man was his rival or some such. Then she'd told him that and it was like his whole world tipped sideways into crisis mode. He'd catch himself watching Nate wrap an arm around her shoulders, and feel something burn in his chest, and have the slowly dawning realisation that he wasn't sure which of them he was jealous of.
"Cool," Nate said.
They talked, for a while, as they drank their beers. About her, but about other things too. Langston slowly felt the crushing weight of the party ease, felt himself relax into Nate's company in a way he'd never fully done into hers by the end. He'd always felt like he had to prove something.
"You really would be a very good boyfriend," Langston said. "I've been thinking about that a lot, this last month or so."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm."
"I was very impressed by the time you fixed her car. I'm useless at that." Nate's gaze roamed over him. His voice lowered, soft. "You as good with anything else as you are with your hands? I've been wondering."
Langston swallowed. "You've been wondering?"
Their eyes locked across the table.
Nate was at full force, now, without the rain. Smirk. Teasing eyes to make you want to die. His hair had dried with the most adorable damn curl. Langston wanted to touch it. He couldn't even blame the beer. He wasn't entirely sure he could blame heartache either, because his insides were fizzing.
He wasn't sure which of them leaned in. It was not the most romantic of first kisses. It felt good though.
He dragged his thumb along the curve of Nate's face and watched the other man shiver.
"I've definitely been wondering about that," Nate said, low.
"We're not going back to the party, are we?"
They were not going back to her, were they?
"No," Nate said. "I definitely shouldn't think so."
Langston leaned in to kiss him again.
#m/m#writing#story#love triangle#fic#fiction#creative writing#lgbtq#romance#short story#writing snippet#story snippet
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Small rant about Sans' character that no one is ever going to read and is probably kind of inaccurate, but I'm going to scream into the void nonetheless because why the hell not and I'm kind of bored.
I feel like the concept of Sans as a whole has been so utterly gutted by the fandom and not in the way you'd think. Not because of the AUs which are all so oddly Sans-focused (but at least we have Underverse which is actually pretty good) but in the sense of the people who claim to "actually understand Sans canonically" and "try to stay as canon as possible" while also equally missing the point sort of. Hence, why we have this long and overplayed image I'm sure everyone has seen a billion times:
If I could lay some groundwork down, Undertale came out in 2015, nearly a decade ago. The internet was a different time and place then and fandom creativity reached new peaks that no one had ever seen before, and as a result, a lot of Undertale was exaggerated, changed, cut up, and then put back together. Why? Because in all honesty, Undertale was a really simple game with a simple premise. Sure there were bits and pieces scattered throughout, parts like who Gaster was, who Chara was when they were alive, who Sans is in general; all the typical fandom theory shenanigans we've come to expect in the recent years. And in that excitement, Sans became the staple of Undertale pretty much, or at least everything it represented. This macabre, yet adorably misleading game with funny moments and interesting think pieces that people are still speculating about. That's pretty much the basis of Sans. So I get why Sans became the quintessential poster child for such a subversively ambitious game. I get why, then, people try to showcase Sans as this badass God character who knows and remembers all of resets and cries over Papyrus and is just an edge lord in general. It doesn't mean it's accurate in the slightest, but I get the idea of it nonetheless. In the absence of content, and there's a lot of it in Undertale, (I mean, it took me 4 hours to 100% it in the Pacifist and Neutral Routes, and 5 hours to beat Genocide, including the times it took me to beat Undyne because she thoroughly kicked my ass and Sans as well) the fans filled those gaps with what they saw fit and what they saw fit was so wide and diverse that the gap overflowed and the game pretty much became unrecognizable.
And I (except for the truly questionable and gross stuff, you know what I'm talking about) love the fandom for that, I truly do. Just the sheer number of comics, spin-off games, AUs, art, and fanfiction that answered every question I had and more was and is impressive, but even so, there's only so much that can be done with the context Undertale provides us before the content gets...stale. Hence my point on why Sans' character was so exaggerated is because Undertale as a whole had been exaggerated and oversaturated and overplayed and generally...not what the game or Sans was originally. But that was peak 2016-2019, though, a few years ago. And the interpretations and eras, like everything, have changed.
Now back to my actual point. It's now 2024. The fandom has noticeably slowed down. All of the AUs and theories and fanfictions that were popular have either been forgotten about over the years, randomly rediscovered or still ongoing, or just abandoned entirely. The game has been pretty much combed through until every file has been cracked, every document leaked, and every secret discovered. It's like a picked over turkey at this point and a lot of the old creators have indeed left behind the game in pursuit of newer things, which is understandable. It's not the center of attention it once was and in that wake, we don't really have a lot of the same pillars in the Undertale community that we used to. And in this transformed community, we have the left over children, now young adults and teenagers, to pick up the pieces. And in that, Sans' character, as well as Undertale itself, has again, been reformed.
That was a lot of words. But I hope I at least set the center stage. My issue, pretty much, is that the leftover fans deem themselves as "above the cringe" the old fandom left behind, which, is fair enough. And in doing so, a lot of the foundation of the 2016-2019 Undertale fandom was kind of overwritten. No, now Sans is no longer this edgy, overpowered God figure ready to right the wrongs of the player, no, now he's this apathetic guy who doesn't care about anyone, including himself, and is only powerful because he cheated. And to be fair, I see some merit in this interpretation. Sans is in fact, a pretty morally ambiguous guy. He doesn't even attempt to stop the player during the genocide route until there's nothing left. He threatens the player on the pacifist route even when we pose no threat. He makes so many allusions about himself not caring about anything. So I get it. Everyone is tired of everything Sans-related. I was too at one point. But in trying to counteract this fanon interpretation of Sans, I feel like this new one is also semi-inaccurate. This new interpretation of Sans is meant to be seen as "mature" and "not cringe" when in fact, Undertale is and always will be sort of cringe. And that's OK! That's why I and others love the game so much, because it's not afraid of being anything other than what it is and what it claimed to be. It had a story in mind that it wanted to tell and it did so unabashedly. The need to separate Undertale and Sans itself from the cringe is so pointless and almost a little juvenile. And imo, even ruins the character of Sans himself.
Sans does care about Papyrus, so so so much. He reads him bedtime stories. He plays along with his illusions of grandeur. He calls out the player when he's killed, despite Sans having to remain objective as a judge. I feel like Sans not intervening in Papyrus' death isn't because he doesn't care, it's because his entire job is to act as a judge and in a position where he's mostly neutral. He knows the player has powers to redo and undo things, so thus, he gives us room to make those choices, for better or worse. He's like, the anti-toriel. He refuses to hold your hand. He tells YOU to make the right choice, and by you, I mean the player. And in that sense, I feel like that's not something a completely apathetic guy would do. Someone like that wouldn't even see the point of choices, of having an option. Someone like that wouldn't care about getting out of bed in the morning, getting several jobs, or telling a person with higher power to just engage with your brother.
Like come on, don't say he doesn't put effort into anything, like he went out of his way to make sure Pap's Holiday party went perfect. He's constantly going above and beyond for his brother.
Sans has emotions and they're so complex and so well-written, but I feel like this counter-cringe culture of the fandom wants him to be this guy who's either too depressed or too lazy to engage with others, or someone who would simply shrug off the death of loved ones when we have proof that Sans does indeed try hard for Papyrus in the ending where everyone dies but his brother. It's an "oh shit" sort of moment when he realizes that Papyrus is the only person he has left and thus, he puts in the effort to be better for him. It's not that he doesn't care or see the point, he's just kind of numb at this point. If Papyrus dies in the neutral routes, you don't see Sans again until the judgment hall and he'll call you a dirty brother killer and tell you to go to hell. That's something someone who at least cares a little would do. He's not above insulting the player and he's not above getting pissed. I've never really seen him as a, "well that's that then," character when it comes to Papyrus dying, for me, it's always been, "I'm angry, but I can maintain my composure and still do what I have to do."
Even in the genocide routes, Sans wants to give up and do nothing. He wants to let himself die without much thought. But he knows that he has to stand between you and oblivion. It's another, "Oh shit" moment, but in the opposite way. He knows he's gonna die. But he still has hope. Not necessarily that you'll be a good person, but that you can try another way and make better choices. He embodies the same mentality Papyrus did at the beginning of the run, believing there's a better chance for another future where everyone can be happy.
Sans isn't a nihilist, not all the way. There's still a chance, still a part of him that has hope for everything, regardless of the route. And should the Pacifist route be completed, you'll see that he's genuinely happy. He DOES care, or at least he's beginning to know that caring about things is ok and healthy even.
Ex 1: If you go to Sans' lab after completing a True Pacifist Route, you get this bit of dialog:
Ex 2: Sans and Papyrus talking about a Christmas party they had on the Newsletter of the 5th Anniversary of Undertale.
The strongest, yet most complex example of this that we see is that he upholds his promise with Toriel and will continue to do so until the genocide route at the very end because he wants to at least give us, the player, a chance. And even if it was a cop-out for being lazy, I believe that Sans legitimately believes there's a chance for us to turn around and be a better person, or at the very least, make better choices. We know that Sans is a person who doesn't like making promises at all, and even though he said that his threatening to kill Frisk is a joke, had he not made that promise to Toriel, I can't 100% say that he still wouldn't intervened in the genocide and neutral routes.
And if you think about it, Sans upholding that promise just makes me question him even more. Like, even if you kill his brother, so long as you don't kill everyone, he won't kill you just because of that. He sticks to his promise and his morals so much, even if it costs him everything because well, what type of judge would he be if he didn't stick to his moral code?
"If you have some special power, don't you think it's your responsibility to do the right thing?"
And by that logic, if he made a promise with someone, don't you think he'd feel he'd have the responsibility to uphold it?
We also know that he makes an effort to give us updates on the Underground after we leave in the neutral routes because he still wants us to know, at least, the consequences of our actions, so it's not like he's just lazily letting us get away with anything with do (even if he does physically.) He still holds our actions above our heads. He still keeps his promise. He still knows that we can make a better outcome. And if that doesn't say anything about him, I don't know what does.
Even in the neutral route endings where things are objectively going terribly for the monsters with Frisk killing Asgore and taking the souls to leave the barrier, Sans still never gives up. Sans, of all people.
And sure, Sans isn't a saint, not by a long shot, but he does have some moral weight in the long run, and by playing the part of a judge, he has a certain level of disattachment that's necessary when it comes to doing his job. Nowadays, I don't see the "fanon" sans that everyone loves to rag on, the one that's overly emotional and jarringly out of character, more so, I see everyone ragging on that interpretation, and then coming up with an equally inaccurate interpretation of Sans just not giving a shit and letting Frisk get away with everything just because he's "not emotional and only wants to be lazy, blah, blah, blah, nihilism, existentialism, it's more canonically accurate, unlike that CRINGE FANON SANS!" /or being a total unserious prankster with no other personality traits, and that's equally as jarring for me.
So in conclusion, I feel like "Fanon" Sans, the one where he's breaking down and sobbing over Papyrus and holding his scarf is just as inaccurate as the "more canon one" where he's apathetic and simply just not caring about his death, or at the very best, says "it is what it is." Sans is a character whose emotions aren't apparent, but he still does care in his weird philosophical way. He loves Papyrus and genuinely thinks he's cool. He's a jokester character who loves a good laugh and being laid back. He doesn't like putting in effort, but he will if he has to. He wants the player to make good choices, so he generally tries to stay out of the way to give us that freedom. Not because he knows we're gonna kill Papyrus, but because he knows we have greater power and wants us to use it to do the morally right thing. He isn't above doing morally grey things either, like threatening to kill Frisk in case they pose a threat to monster kind, but I believe even then, his hesitation to just accept a human in the underground is somewhat understandable given the oppressive tension between humans and monsters. Additionally, he does put in effort when it comes to caring about monsters other than Papyrus, Toriel, and even Alphys and Asgore, he cares about them all: (it's implied that he feeds the amalgamates in Alphy's old lab as proven by the same dog food we see in the lab being in Sans' house and Alphys even calls him a good guy because he helps her in the aborted genocide route ending, him telling jokes to Toriel and genuinely trying to bring some joy in her life even though she's a stranger and doesn't have an obligation to, even staying with her in the Ruins after she's dethroned in the Queen Undyne ending, him acting as the judge before Asgore and even being in such an important position requires you to have a solid sense of morality and conviction, his respect for Undyne as a warrior/leader depending on the ending and in the Undertale Newsletter, he makes an effort to score a goal for his team in Hocky, and Undyne of all people seems proud of him, and pretty much everything that has to do with Papyrus he's at the very least involved or interested in.)
My words don't have a lot of merit. I'm simply saying how I interpret things. But as a big sister, I see Sans as a good big brother who's not too involved, but also deeply cares about his younger brother and his friends. I get that stoicism and being "logical" and "cold" is the new trend and whatnot with all these edits of badass characters and longing for a time when everything was less...emotional, but in doing that, it shuts a lot of discussion about Sans as a person and his complex emotions as a whole. I feel like it's too difficult and kind of silly to chalk him up as either one or the other. I feel like there's a nice middle ground between the "cringe" fanon sans and the "cool, apathetic" canon sans that a lot of fans either go one or the other on. Anyway, that's about it for my rant. It's kind of nonsensical and a little hard to follow, but I hope I was able to get my thoughts across nonetheless.
I guess it was a big rant after all. Oh well. It is what it is.
#sans#undertale sans#undertale#deltarune#papyrus undertale#sans character discussion#undertale deltarune
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6. Strawberries 🍓
Summary: Just because you and Coco broke up, doesn’t mean you won’t have a Valentine. You son will make sure of that.
Pairing: Coco Cruz x female ex reader
Warnings: angst if you squint but also comfort, co parenting, breakup
Word count: 937
A/n: Dont know what it is about this trope but it just gets my feet kicking every time 😭 Took inspo from that fic I wrote a while ago about Coco and the readers son telling coco that mommy has a new ‘friend’ but made this one less toxic lol
Coco smiled as he watched his son messily spray the cool whip on top of his pancake, turning to face his dad with a proud smile.
“Look! Can you see it?”
Coco glanced down at the pancake, the cool whip placed in squiggles across the top.
“I can.”
“What is it??”
His son grinned wide, waiting for his dad to compliment his art, but Coco awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what the hell it was supposed to be.
“It’s a…smile face?”
The boy’s smile faded some as he looked down at his pancake before looking back at Coco with confusion.
“No, it’s a sailboat.”
Coco nodded enthusiastically, his smile bright.
“Ah. I see it now. It’s beautiful, Mijo.”
The child’s grin returned again, too young to dwell on the face that Coco didn’t see a sailboat anywhere on that pancake. His focus was on something else now as he bounced on his feet, eyes pleading up at his father.
“Can I have strawberries too?”
Coco winced, knowing he didn’t have any in the fridge. He barely ever bought produce if he was being honest. He was getting into the habit of buying more veggies now that you had been leaving your son over for the weekends more recently. He had a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and a half empty carton of blueberries that would be shriveling up any day now, but no strawberries.
“Sorry, kid. I don’t have any. I have blueberries though.”
He shrugged, smile still on his face.
“That’s ok. Blueberries are good too.”
Coco released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and went into the fridge to grab the berries.
“We can go shopping and get some once we finish eating. That sound ok?”
His son smiled and agreed, throwing in his own request.
“Yeah, and then we can get mommy a little teddy for Valentine’s Day! It’s tomorrow I think.”
Coco laughed and nodded, digging into his own pancake as he looked at his boy.
“It is, you’re right. You want to get mommy a teddy? What color?”
The carbon copy of Coco tilted his head back and forth as he chewed and thought.
“A white one. With a pink heart that says I love you.”
Coco smiled, knowing that your son loved you more than he loved anything else on the planet.
“I think that sounds great.”
“Me too. She doesn’t have a Valentine this year so I think that would make her happy.”
The light and fun energy dipped as a pang hit Coco’s chest. He didn’t let his son notice though, forcing his smile to stay right where it was. It was true. You hadn’t been with anyone since the split. Your focus had been on your son and work, no time for dating, at least that was what you had said. Valentine’s Day had always been one of your favorites and while it hadn’t really been Coco’s thing, he had indulged you every single one of the 6 years the two of you had been together. Your split had happened around 10 months ago now and while things were cordial and friendly, your interactions not regarding your son had been kept to a minimum. This would be the first time in years that you wouldn’t have a valentine and Coco was sure you wouldn’t be celebrating it seeing as you would be alone, this week Coco’s week. He decided then that he wouldn’t allow it and patted his hand gently on the counter.
“Hurry and finish up, then we’ll go to the store and buy a bunch of stuff for mommy, ok? We’ll surprise her tomorrow.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your brows furrowed as you heard the knock on your door. It was around noon, and you weren’t expecting anyone. You picked up your phone and touched the screen, no missed calls or texts. A soft knock sounded again, and you stood, wearily going to the door and pulling it open. Your apprehension evaporated as you saw the boys there hand in hand, a bouquet of red roses in Coco’s empty hand, a fluffy white teddy bear in your son’s. Your smile was ear to ear as you bent down, your son letting go of Coco’s hand to hug you tightly.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!”
You laughed tearfully and hugged him to your chest tight.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby boy.”
You stood back up and took the bear as he held it up to you excitedly.
“Here! This is from me!”
You clutched the bear to your chest and pet it’s soft fur.
“I love it very much. Thank you.”
Eyes locking with Coco’s, he cleared his throat and held out the roses to you.
“And these are from me.”
You could feel yourself swoon, heart aching in your chest, Coco’s doing the same. You took the roses from his hand and held them to your nose, taking a deep breath.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
For a moment, it was as if it was only the two of you there, eyes locked, longing and sorrowful. The breakup had been mutual, for the sake of safety, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to live with. Pushing the door open, you invited them both in, Coco carrying a grocery bag as well that your son quickly grabbed and shoved towards you excitedly.
“We also got strawberries! Daddy said we could make pancakes again but with strawberries this time.”
You grinned and happily took the carton of strawberries, not bothering to mention that you already had one in the fridge. These were a thousand times better already.”
General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @gangstaliciou06
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @myakai13
@cruzwalters @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty @lyly00 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @90sisthenew80s @lovelytricia @librarian1002
#imagines#mayans mc#coco cruz x reader#coco cruz#dad!coco#valentines day drabble event#mayans imagine
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omg i stumbled across your blog recently and your art is gorgeous!!! i love the style and the way you draw dick in particular so much!
also i couldn’t stop thinking about your tangled au it’s so clever! it got me thinking of an au of your au (if that’s presumptuous or annoying feel free to ignore this ask lol). but it always bugged me slightly in the original tangled that rapunzel could remember stuff from when she was a baby bc babies can’t do that lol (obv she also has magic glowing hair so suspension of disbelief and all). but what if dick was actually older when slade (or court of owls tbh take your pick) kidnapped him? like he came under bruce’s care just like in canon after his parents died, and was around long enough to become brothers with jason, and tim had just been adopted when dick and bruce have a fight and dick storms off. not as bad as comics and bruce doesn’t kick him out bc he’s not an ass lol, but maybe dick wants to do more with his powers and bruce is overprotective, so dick storms out fully intending to come back, but slade has been watching him and takes this chance to kidnap him. and when bruce goes looking for him all he finds is a bloodstain and no dick.
and obviously dick is very keen on escaping the creepy dude who’s kidnapped him, but slade brings him to the basement of the tower and begins to torture/brainwash him sort of like the apprentice arc. and over time bc slade sucks and is good at the whole brainwashing thing, dick slowly looses his memories and eventually can’t remember a life outside of the tower at all. and he continues to grow up in the tower with slade as his “father” and he always has this sense that something isn’t quite right, but he can’t put his finger on it. like he has all these weird torture-like scars that he can’t remember getting, but slade tells him that it was from when he was young and before slade rescued him, and that’s why the world is so scary and dangerous and he has to stay in the tower where slade can protect him. and ofc he does bc slade loves him and wouldn’t lie to him right? and he doesn’t know why the name richard doesn’t fit him quite right, or why his heart races when slade appears unexpectedly (that’s how love works right?). but he stays in the tower like he’s supposed to until wally and roy show up.
and slowly after traveling with them he begins to get weird flashes of both painful and good memories, and strange sensations of deja vue. while meanwhile bruce is still all brooding and mourning bc it was his fight that led dick to run away. and added angst is that jason and tim actually remember and miss dick, even though tim had just started to get to know him. and damian is angsty bc he’s the only one never to have met dick (handwavy on the ages just like dc lol). meanwhile the kingdom still remembers and mourns the charismatic adorable prince that they lost.
and then when slade eventually catches up to and captures wally and roy, dick offers to give himself up and promises never to escape if slade spares them. and it’s extra sad bc he finally remembers what he’d be giving up. he remembers bruce and alfred and his brothers, and he remembers all the trauma slade put him through, and he’s willing to go through it all again to save wally and roy (bc is it really dick grayson if he isn’t super self sacrificing lol). and ofc it eventually ends happily and dick is delighted to go back to his family with his new friends and see his old brothers and meet his new brother all with a new haircut.
but yeah overall your au wormed its way into my brain and i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol, it’s so good!!!!
Ahjajfk thank youuuu<3
And OMG, this is amazing! Beautifully written, yes, absolutely love all the details, especially Slade's and Dick's relationship in all this. I've actually thought about him being taken later on so Tim and Jason would also remember Dick. But I think I started overthinking everything and made it way too complicated (I think I wrote about 20 pages of notes and stuff, I kinda got lost in them. I was/am pretty obsessed with this AU), so I just reeled back a bit and stayed close to the plot. It also simplifies things; I don’t have to rewrite the whole story, which, with my overthinking skills, would take forever. 💀
And that part with Slade making Dick forget who he was is great. I kept the whole AU pretty open with some stuff for imagination. My running idea at the moment is that he got sick when he was 8, so Bruce found the flower, and later Slade kidnapped him, making him forget everything and thinking Slade is his father.
But yeah, OMG, this is awesome. I totally love it. I tried to make it as detailed as possible story-wise, but at the same time, I really needed to limit myself to finish fast because I was scared I would lose interest or don’t have the patience haha
But Now I’m kinda even more excited about how people will react to the next chapters. 👀
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Hello there! I just recently came across your blog, and really love your Naruto art! Especially your Sakura content. You give her the justice that she should have gotten in the canon material. Short haired Saku for the win!
However, I’m curious. What are your feelings on Hinata? I like her, but also find that I unfortunately have some bitterness towards her. Not because of the character herself (though she has her issues, and I fully believe she deserved better too), but because of her fandom and how the fanbase holds her to such high regard. She suffers from the same problems as Sakura, dare I say even worse, but people will find any excuse in the point to justify her actions and lift her up. Though I will say that most of the blame lies with SP and their very creepy fetishization of her- who mind you, was a minor for most of the series. It’s like if you even have the slightest criticism of her, your attack for it. But I don’t know. I hope you have a good day!
Hi there!
Thank you so much! I love my girliepop Sakura, she deserves feral rat rights
Hinata? Yeah I have quite a few feelings about her.
Namely the feeling of "I like you and I wish you got more"
Hinata is depressingly the only girl from the Konoha 11 to have been given a story and setting that wasn't about boys. Heiress to one of Konoha's major clans but was kicked out in favour of her younger sister? A clan that's fundamentally shitty and they went into depth showing how shitty it is to its own members? There's a LOT that could have been done here.
But unfortunately this was all forgotten about and replaced with her whole existence revolving around Naruto and it's a darn shame.
I don't feel bitterness towards her or anything, just sadness. Grieving what could have been.
I couldn't tell you for certain why Hinata was favoured over Sakura, despite the two being so similar.
Hinata's design is very appealing to some, and people seem to be drawn to shy cute girls (I see you, Fluttershy stans). Why I don't know. But it is frustrating as a Sakura stan to see your fav being criticized while Hinata gets praised for the same thing.
Naruto, the series, was just uninterested in them as characters.
Naruto is a fantasy, a character for young teenage boys to project themselves on to.
Hinata was made to be appealing to the teenage boy demographic. A pretty shy girl who's completely and utterly devoted to you is pure ambrosia.
Sakura wasn't made to fit into that fantasy. She's much more like a real woman in that regard, at least to those who project themselves on to Naruto. And a real woman can't be the perfect little wife in your perfect little fantasy world.
That's my personal theory anyway.
All that being said, I do genuinely like Hinata. I think she's wasted and done dirty, but even I have fallen for her core appeal.
How much I like her makes me sad that she'll never be treated as a character, she will only ever be a reward.
#naruto#naruto rant#hinata hyuuga#hinata hyuga deserved better#hinata hyuga rant#this isn't anti hinata btw#i love her#but she was written so badly and deserved so much better
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can you explain the michael psychosomatic kittens curse to me please it's been bothering me for upwards of a week
it would be an honor. it's kind of a long story but luckily I'm at work.
1. I was drawing pictures of Mike and Peter on zoom with my bestest friend Cal and I was drawing their beautiful 70s long hair as I am wont to do. A thought occurred in my head that the color of their hairs together would make a beautiful tortoiseshell cat. This prompted me to say aloud: "They would have beautiful kittens." Which of course raised questions. I wasn't even really thinking about kitten pregnancy at this point I was just thinking about their hair. But kitten pregnancy sprung forth none the less.
2. The household has been on kind of a Phyllis kick lately because I have a 73 slide long PowerPoint on the Monkees that I have been workshopping into a sort of combination stand up comedy/performance art piece. Our second focus group (the cast of rocky horror) said that they liked it but wanted more interpersonal drama. So I added Peter and Davy's fight and a "wife timeline" so we've been thinking about Monkee wives and I recently read Mike's book and Phyllis I think we can all agree is one of the most interesting and under-examined people in the whole Monkee cluster fuck.
3. So Mike is pregnant with Kittens. Because he and Peter would have beautiful kittens. And we all agree that being pregnant would be a good thing for Mike Nesmith. On a physical level it would suit him but also from a sort of pseudo feminist perspective where he is forced to take on the burden of """"womanhood"""" we feel it could help to facilitate understanding to what he's putting these women through.
4. So it becomes sort of body horror, where he is forced to confront the physical and emotional labor that he has been foisting on Phyllis and then neglecting her but in becoming pregnant he understands her and their relationship blossoms. We decide that Phyllis sort of has a mental break and convinces herself that she's going to trick Mike into thinking he's pregnant so that he understands just for a moment what she's going through. We try to come up with ways you could try to convince a man he is pregnant (this is difficult).
5. We realize we have lost the kitten plot. But Riley (who has been here the whole time because we share a room but I didn't want to introduce to many characters into this) has been taking a class on monsters and the monstrous and there is this medieval medical belief called "the maternal imagination" which is basically the idea that if you are pregnant and get scared by a mouse your baby will be born mouselike. Or if you are looking at a picture of a man who is not your husband while you conceive a baby the baby will look like the man in the picture, not it's actual father. It's a very interesting sort of belief.
6. So we decide that Mike stumbles upon a sick kitten one day and brings it home and is positively doting. Phyllis and his real life children remain secondary. He's about work and this fucking kitten. And so of course it becomes the object of Phyllis’s ire. And she hates that right? Because it's a sick and tiny kitten. And really she should hate Mike (but she cannot hate Mike this is a fundamental truth of her character). But she decides that she can make him understand. By making him think he's pregnant. And she goes to bed that night and has a dream that she gives birth to kittens.
7. Of course this is totally delusional he's never going to think he's pregnant but weirdly, he starts to ... act pregnant? In ways that she would have absolutely no control over. He's got that glow and he's gaining weight and most of all he's happy and is spending a lot more time at home hanging around. And she starts to get all doting excited husband on him. And their relationship is a lot more tenable now that their roles have subtly shifted. Because she is the responsible one right? But previously she'd have to defer to him and he had to perform this masculine patriarch role and neither of them are brave enough to challenge it but they both feel wrong fulfilling those roles. This is just right. But it's also very fucking wrong. Because Mike is pregnant??? And it's getting pretty undeniable. It is also clear that whatever is in there is not a baby. Phyllis has had babies and this is four little squirmy things. And so eventually Mike has kittens and it is not clarified how physically this happens but it does and it fixes him.
Sorry. I know this is pretty much batshit insane but it is the story.
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Hello! I hope you’re well!
I’ve recently watched The Gray Man and was hoping you could do a Court x Reader one-shot!
Here is what I was wanted it to be about:
Court and Claire are living in an apartment complex in Romania and the reader is their neighbor. Let’s say in this the Lloyd is still alive and the reader is spying for him. Court has major trust issues because he’s trying to protect Claire, but the reader is able to trick them into thinking she’s just a friendly neighbor. They even have movie nights and dinner together sometimes.
The reader decides she can’t go through with letting Lloyd get to them. When she goes to see Lloyd and pretends she hasn’t made progress on finding them, he hits her over the back of the head and kicks her in the stomach/ribs repeatedly as punishment. She goes back to the apartment in Romania joins Court and Claire again for a movie night.
She has a really bad concussion, so she’s pretty off her game, but still put on the act for Court and Claire. During the movie, the reader stands up and feels really dizzy. She passes out briefly and when she wakes up she’s on the couch and Court is knelt down beside her. She’s really disoriented and tries get up. She cries out and grasps her ribs and Court makes her stay laying down on the couch. He looks at her ribs and stomach and asks her how it happened. He’s really sweet and caring, shushing her and telling her she’s okay and safe while checking her ribs for breaks and wrapping them.
The reader tells Court everything and Court becomes angry with her. She apologizes profusely and tells him that he and Claire need to get out of Romania. She passes out again and Court ends up caving and carrying her down to the car to go with them.
When she wakes up Court tells her this is her only second chance and she’s grateful that she doesn’t have to go back to Lloyd.
THATS A LOT! SORRY! If you don’t want to write it, that’s okay!
The Spy Next Door | Court Genry x Reader
word count: 1521
warning: violence towards female character
a/n: hey! i love your idea thank you for requesting it!! I did change the ending to make it fit more with the story and have a good flow!! if you want any more Court stories please let me know! i really hope you enjoy it!!
“Claire!” Court shouted down the apartment building hallway.
He had lost track of her in the winding stairs up to their floor. Claire's head pooped out from behind the door, with a grocery bag in her hand, matching the multiple in Court's hands. Court breath reflected from its hold as he fished around for the key to the door. The two of them had been living in an apartment complex in Romania for over six months.
You knew this because you had been here the same amount of time he showed up. Your conscience hated you for what you were involved in. Lloyd had you spying on Court, and you had the bruises around your thighs to prove that he was ruthless and didn't care why you were withholding information. You had gotten close to Court and Claire over those months and frequented their apartment for movie nights and dinners. You loved those nights spent on the couch in the dark, trying to act as if you didn't want to snuggle up to Court every time you sat next to him on the couch. Claire gave you smug looks every so often.
The difference between the two apartments was that your apartment was bare, filled with scattered around the room, and guns littering your kitchen tables. All loaded, none used. Your walls bore nothing but the old paint, and still you had skeletons in your closet not clothes. while Courts and Clairs were filled with art, photos, and books on the bookshelves. Claire's bedroom was painted a pretty pink and was covered with records, books, and of course medical supplies. Clouts was grey, a neat bed and neat walls filled with an old photo of his lost friend, and one of Court and Claire, both sitting on his mantle by the wall. Otherwise he was more conservative with his wall space.
Your apartment was so bare due to the overwhelming fears that kept you awake. Every shadow that passed through your window scared you at night. You didn't dare get comfortable if you got killed by Lloys or Court for what you were involved in.
Lloyd was on a mission, after what happened between him and Court last time they met you knew he had a vengeance that ended in death. Your head was already one he wanted and once Court figured it out he would never forgive you for the things you told Lloyd about him and Claire. Lloyd didn’t care at all about the girl just getting to Court, and so thought that meant if they got their hands on Claire, better leverage. You were trying your best to leave her out of it, just mentioning little things, Lloyd didn't like any of this and the hits on your body under your clothes were evidence to that. You loved Court, you had grown such strong feelings for him, and you knew if you let him in he might not like the person you were. Distance and saving him were the best things you could do for him and Claire.
It wasn’t until one Saturday at their house, and the looks Court gave you that you knew you couldn’t let them get hurt, and couldn’t keep living this life. You left early that night, using the flat iron plugged in as your excuse.
You left and headed to Llyod mansion he had time to play in. Your nerves were getting to you, running over the thoughts and ideas that were swarming your head.
“Ah, Y/N!” Lloyd's voice rang through the dining room. “What information do you have for me today”
“i…i can’t do this anymore” you told him, Lloyds face stayed neutral.
“What?”
“I can’t seem to get any more information out of them” you told Lloyd who gave you a questioning look.
“I see, you have feelings for him now don’t you” Lloyd said, “sympathizing with the man that ruined my life, my job, my career” You sprung back as he walked towards you. You tried to have courage but you just muttered out the real thing you wanted to say.
“ I can’t work for you anymore…this is too much”
“And to think you were my most loyal worker.”Lloyd said as he motioned for the men behind you to grab you, keeping you on your feet and in your place. He came over to you and punched you in the stomach making you feel like puking. Another strike and another came at you. “If you want to disobey, try to leave? I'll make you wish I'd killed you” Lloyd said.
You stumbled back to your apartment, barely conscious , brushed and beaten by Lloyd who said you were never free of him. You did in that moment wish he had finished the job so you didn't have to stumble, or walk back into the building you came to hate, and the neighbors door you wish you never had to see again.You made your way up the stairs, spotty vision and weak legs. Just your luck Court was walking outside his door when he saw you.
“Y/N?” he said, before you could respond your vision weekend and you lost control falling over, and thankfully into Courts now outstretched arms. Court was terrified, the woman he fell for and who lived across the hall from him just passed out on him.
Court lifted you off the floor and took you to his apartment. When you were placed on the couch and the buses made themself apparent to the man, he was furious. Who would do this to you? Why would they do this to you? the questions he had couldn’t be answered at the moment, so he had to wait till you awoke.
When you woke up it was already midday. Court sat on the chair next to you, asleep in his hand.
“Court?” You said, voice hoarse and dry. Court shot out of his sheet and crouched beside you. He was worried, and for the right reasons, you just didn’t know how to tell him about your other life.
“What happened?”He asked you.
“I…I've been lying to you” you told him, Court's expression changed. It wasn't a worry any more, it turned into caution and not for himself.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No, no I don't think so. The guy I work for has such a hatred towards you Court that I don’t think I can do what he has asked me to do” you told him, Court knew who you were talking about, and he hated that you were involved. “I’m scared”
“Did he do this to you?” That question was the only one that the Court wanted answered. He didn’t care if his life was in danger, he wanted to make sure yours was not.
“Yes” it was a relief telling Court about the other life, about the hatred this man had and about the abuse you went through. “I went after the movie, to tell him I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t work for him anymore”
“Y/N” Court said, “What did he ask you to do?”
“He wants you dead. He wanted me to become friends with you and tell him things about your life, about Claire's life. I gave him bits, never the whole truth. I never told him where Claire went to school and I said I never found out where you worked. I lied and lied because after a while I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you, or losing you. I knew I was a goner, weather it was by telling you the truth and you hating me or being killed by Lloyd because i’m incompetent”
“I’m not going to kill you Y/N, but I am mad” Court said, grabbing your face. “I’m mad because if you had told me this was happening I would have done anything in my power to save you, and I will do that now too. If you had given him all that information, we would all be dead now. The only reason we are not, is because you’ve been lying to buy time, now that depends how much time we have not before we're all dead?” Court said, anger and relief flooding through his veins.
You tried sitting up but clutched your side and let out a yelp. your ribs were severely hurt and the bruises along your sides and front made you feel light headed. Court eased you back down. You passed out soon after that and was woken up by Court placing you in the seat next to him in the car. Claire in the backseat along with the piled of luggage from the two in the apartment but from yours as well. You glanced over at Court next to you.
“This is your only second chance” he said to you as you drove out of Romania. “Please trust me next time, tell me if your in trouble”
“I know. I will Court, thank you” you said. Court smiled and continued driving out of Romania back towards Europe, maybe Belgium will be nice this time of year
#sierra six#sierra six x reader#the grey man#the grey man fan fiction#court gentry#sierra six x you#court gentry x reader#i am so in love with six its not even funny#i love ryan gosling#ryan gosling
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Art from the most recent ask in its own post. Shafan has a run in with a clown.
story under the cut
HH: =oh i've had run ins with m=ore'n a few cl=owns, n=one of em pleasant.
HH: best =one was a sweep =or s=o back. i was cruisin this lil shindig a friend =of a friend was thr=owin
HH: m=ost everyb=ody there was a rusty, but tha thing ab=out thr=owin a g=o=od party is
HH: cl=owns will just sh=ow up
HH: they just manifest there =or s=omethin s=o=on as things really kick off
HH: like the way bleatbeasts just show up at metal c=oncerts
HH: anyway everyb=ody kn=ows y=ou thr=ow a big en=ough party yer runnin tha risk a cl=owns deciding ta crash it
HH: but generally speakin cl=owns aint subtle and when they sh=ow up ya kn=ow what's happenin
HH: s=o i'm at this party and havin a real g=o=od time
HH: maybe a lil drunker than I =ought ta be
HH: when i sp=ot this Big B=oy lurkin in a c=orner b=o=oth
HH: and yall kn=ow i like em big
HH: s=o i slide in and intr=oduce myself
HH: i feel it's imp=ortant ta menti=on here that the lightin in this place was n=ot s=o g=o=od
HH: and als=o my eyesight leaves a lil s=omethin ta be desired
HH: by which i mean im blind as tha pr=overbial flyin squeakbeast
HH: s=o between that and bein pretty sl=oshed i d=ont n=otice anythin suspici=ous ab=out this gentleman
HH: i start talkin ta tha fella, and he's a bit quiet, aint sayin much
HH: but that's fine i can run my m=outh en=ough fer tha b=oth a us, and i d=o
HH: lil while later, i get ta askin him if he w=ouldn't like ta walk me h=ome, if ya gather my meanin
HH: he says that s=ounds like fun, and we slip =out tha back a tha j=oint
HH: i'm hangin =off his arm, havin tr=ouble walkin straight, when I l=o=ok up an get my first g=o=od gander at tha guy under a streetlight
HH: and i see greasepaint, and a big =ole grin
HH: that'll s=ober a fella up p=owerful fast let me tell ya
HH: n=ow i mighta just g=one al=ong with tha guy and b=olted at tha first good excuse
HH: but apparently i was t=o=o drunk ta manage my facial expressi=ons, cus he sees h=ow i'm l=o=okin at him and his smile if anythin just gets wider.
HH: finally n=oticed, did ya? he says. that mean i cain't walk ya h=ome n=o m=ore? =oh well, tha =other way w=oulda been m=ore fun, but we can still have a g=o=od time.
HH: and he drags me =off int=o an alley and pulls o=ut a club, ready ta splatter me acr=oss tha pavement like a p=opped water bal=o=on
HH: but i tend ta babble when i'm scared, and all =of a sudden i say
HH: hell nah, y'all can't kill me like this, it ain't even funny!
HH: where's tha w=ordplay? tha creativity?
HH: yer just g=onna smash me with a club in an alleyway?
HH: where's tha fuckin craftsmanship? where's tha art?
HH: and that actually makes him st=op fer a minute
HH: and he just l=o=oks at me fer a bit, an then he says
HH: kn=ow what, yer right. Culls =ought ta be gl=ori=ous in tha sight a tha messiahs =or s=ome shit
HH: and i say hey ya kn=ow what w=ould be funny
HH: im a real fast runner, faster than hell
HH: and there's a train what comes thr=ough here right at sunrise
HH: let's say y=ou challenge me t=o a race with tha train
HH: and if I beat it, y=ou let me g=o
HH: he starts sayin nah i aint just lettin y=ou run =off i aint that dumb
HH: and i say =of c=ourse, that's the funniest part
HH: bef=ore the train c=omes, ya tie my feet t=o tha tracks!
HH: he says h=ot damn yer right that is fuckin funny
HH: gets right giggly imaginin me tryin ta run and gettin flattened like an old penny
HH: so we head =on =over t=o tha train tracks
HH: and i say wait h=old =on, we need s=ome supplies first
HH: supplies, he says?
HH: i say yeah well, we need r=ope =obvi=ously, and an umbrella
HH: he says, an umbrella?
HH: i say =o c=ourse an umbrella, i t=old ya tha train c=omes right at sunrise. ya d=ont want ta be standin there burnin in tha sun iffin tha train is late, d=o ya?
HH: and he says yer right yer right i d=ont care fer sunburns
HH: s=o he gets s=ome r=ope and a big black umbrella and we get =on tha tracks and he start's tyin my feet t=o tha tracks, but he's kinda strugglin because he's h=oldin tha umbrella at tha same time
HH: and i say hang o=n, ya can't tie it like that, it's g=onna slip right o=ff. here, let me sh=ow ya, i learned s=ome sailin kn=ots fr=om a c=obalt that never c=ome l=o=ose
HH: So i start sh=owin him h=ow ta d=o it, but he ain't gettin it, s=o i say here, i'll tie my =own feet, and y=ou watch and practice =on your =own feet.
HH: s=o he starts tyin his =own feet ta tha tracks, but he's still fumblin =on acc=ount =of h=oldin tha umbrella, s=o i say, ya need b=oth hands, here let me h=old that f=or ya
HH: and he says thanks and hands me the umbrella and g=oes back ta tyin his feet ta tha tracks.
HH: n=ow =of c=ourse ab=out that time tha sun starts ta c=ome up, and right =on time the train whistle s=ounds in tha distance
HH: and tha cl=own l=o=oks up
HH: by which p=oint i'm already ab=out half a bl=ock away, runnin like hell itself is =on my heels
HH: but i was still cl=ose en=ough ta hear that m=otherfucker laughin, laughin like ta bust a gut, right up till tha n=oise a tha train dr=owned him =out
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My [ongoing] CodyWan Fic Masterlist
Hello! Sorry that this post is a little late, as I said in another post, I've been busy and it kinda got sidetracked--but it's here now!
This rec list isn't gonna be as long as the other one, since I haven't really had time to get into new fics (life stuff + the work of writing my own fic), but there a still a good chunk of them + a couple are series.
They're gonna be separated into "Ongoing" and "Abandoned" so that way you know what you're getting into and I'll put more info in the description--and yes, I'm recommending a couple abandoned works because I think they're still good and maybe with enough support the authors will decide to continue. Either way, they're good fics.
Ongoing
shoulder the sky by @shootingstarpilot
Have I already recced this series? Yes. Am I still reccing it again? Also yes.
I seriously cannot rave enough about how awesome and well done this fic is, and no amount of me harping on it will ever do it thejustice it deserves. This fic has made me laugh, cry, get really pissed at the characters, and it has me waiting (im)patiently for every update--like, every single day I check Ao3 and it's just to check if this fic has updated.
It handles Jedi and Clone culture beautifully and adds in so much interesting world building, it perfectly balances out the fluff with the angst, it handles grief and PTSD very well, and so many other things! The author is also honestly just very sweet and even takes time out of his day to reply to as many comments as possible (which is insane, because there are always like 70+ comments on every chapter).
The Emperor and His Mandalorian by wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67)
Technically I think this would be considered finished, but the author has added a new work to the series every couple months since I found it, so I'm adding it here just in case.
It's a Sith!Obi-Wan AU where Obi-Wan kicks Palpatine's ass and becomes Emperor and marries Cody, son of Manda'lor Jango Fett, as an agreement when Mandalore surrenders to him. I honestly really like how this fic handles Obi-Wan as a Sith and how that affects his actions and relationships with others, as well as Cody being a sort of "balance" for Obi-Wan's dark tendencies.
I'm not even a big fan of Sith!Obi-Wan fics, but this series is the one that got me to start reading some of them--so it definitely comes recommended!
no one left to sing to by slotmachines_fearofgod
This fic is a really interesting take on what would happen in TCW if Cody took more of an active role in the story. I love the author's take on Cody's character and how both his duty to his brothers and all the Kamino bullshit effects how Cody handles Obi-Wan and his feelings towards him.
Also the ending of the most recent update had me screaming and crying at my computer.
The art of living anyway by Itstwointhemorningwhyamiawake
A "Rex is Force-sensitive" fic that follows Cody and Obi-Wan's relationship as well. This fic is pretty new, so I don't really know where it's going, but the first two chapters have been amazing so far!
Abandoned
the sun is just a star by clementines_and_colorful_things
It's hard to give this fic a description that does it justice, but it's honestly really really good. It's basically a slow burn that follows Obi-Wan and Cody through TCW and, according to the tags, would eventually lead to Order 66 happening differently than in RotS.
More Than Blood by generalekenobi
Where Order 66 happens a bit differently and Cody and Obi-Wan end up on the run with baby Luke and Leia, having to masquerade as a Mandalorian couple to do so (uh-huh, yep, totally fake--them have feelings for each other? never).
I really love how this fic gives Cody agency and lets him go "no, we're not doing that, try again" and actually effect the story's outcome. It makes the story a lot more interesting and adds to the dynamic between Cody and Obi-Wan--both relationship-wise and in their newfound mission in taking care of the twins.
I Can Barely Recall (but it's all coming back to me now) by Shortcuts_make_long_delays
Ok, so I don't know if this fic is abandoned or just taking a while to update, so I just put it here--just be aware of that.
This is a Modern!AU where Cody and Obi-Wan used to date, but broke up due to something that keeps being hinted at but not overtly stated (and fuck, I just wanna know what happened! It's killing me!), and now Cody meets his ex "Ben" again when he turns out to be Obi-Wan, Anakin's older brother.
This fic is really interesting and well written and, like I said before, I really just want to know wtf the accident is--the suspense is killing me! Ahhhhhh!
Honorable Mention
An honorable mention for Not This Crude Matter by thebitterbeast
This fic was gonna be apart of the "ongoing" section, but the final part was posted like right after I posted my finished CodyWan rec list.
This series isn't just centered around Cody and Obi-Wan, but I still think it handles their relationship--and other relationships--beautifully. It centers mainly around Jedi culture and it's honestly one of my favorite takes on it. I can't recommend this series enough!
#ao3 fanfic#codywan#codywan fanfic#star wars#fanfic#codywan fic recs#fic recs#I hope you guys like this list as much as the last one#show fic authors some love#they deserve it
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