#twinky but dangerous
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I cant stop adding to my free draw roblox doodle page of Zhongli... i have drawn him so many times on there
#my favorite doodles are the ones where he's being silly (all of them)#and also the ones with Venti because they're funny#Zhongli and Venti's dynamic intrigues me so much#i love drawing my favorite dragon dilf scaring the twinky wind bard#the dumbasses ever <3#patchy rambles#no i don't ship them but i do like drawing them together. usually Venti is getting hurt or scared by Zhongli in some way#or in eminent danger (by Zhongli)
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daydreamin' and i'm thinking of you - j.m.
summary: jj returns from a day of surfing and devotes his night to you and a lil bit of weed.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: smoking weed, a lil suggestive, but mostly super fluffy and full of sweetness
author's note: back from the dead pookies!!! i just wanna say how incredibly grateful that none of yall have come for my wishy-washy ass! this year has been vcery hectic and rough, and i am so thankful y'all have let me be MIA. here's this little blurb smooch ily (i was too scared to flesh out the smut at the end IM SORRY ITS BEEN A WHILE)
JJ smells like a perfect, heady blend of sunscreen and salt when he and the boys get back from surfing. You’re waiting on the porch like a little 1950’s wife, and he runs up and hugs you as soon as he gets out of the Twinkie, acting like its been months since he’s seen you instead of a few hours.
“J!” You’re giggling as he swings you around, smacking loud kisses all over your face and neck.
“Missed ya, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your neck.
John B slaps JJ’s back, surprising him so he lets go of you. “You literally just saw each other.”
JJ’s jaw drops, hand over his heart like he’s been deeply wounded. “You’re just mad your woman isn’t out here to greet you,” he counters, squeezing your side and giving John B a sympathetic look.
“Wrong!’ Sarah says as she pushes open the screen door, giving her boyfriend an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.
John B grins back at JJ, and follows Sarah back inside.
“You still up for that boat date later?” you ask, fingers intertwining with his.
You swear his eyes sparkle. “Um, duh!”
A few hours later, the sun is sinking into the horizon, sky turning the prettiest pink and orange. You are toting a basket full of picnic supplies: a tupperware full of elote salad, another with some grilled chicken, a speaker, and of course, a little cellophane baggie and some rolling papers. JJ’s job is to carry the fishing poles and bait (raw hot-dogs because why would he spend money on crickets when there’s hot dogs in the fridge?), and the six-pack of mini Dr. Peppers you’ll split (JJ will inevitably drink two of your three).
“Where are you going?” You hear someone call from inside the house, but both of you act like you can’t hear it.
HMS Pogue is sitting pretty at the end of the dock, and you practically skip onto it. The rev of the engine is like the call of an old friend, thrumming through you, bare feet on the deck.
You sit cross legged at the bow while JJ drives, your hair flowing behind you. The spray of freshwater is perfectly refreshing.
It’s dusk when the boat reaches a little secluded spot on the marsh, and JJ announces it. “Gorgeous,” he says, the sky purple above him. “And no one around for miles.” He plops next to you, sticking his nose in your neck and sighing. You’re sitting pretty in a bikini top and jean shorts, and he plays with the tie at your back.
You laugh and push him off, getting up to get your basket of food. He helps you unload it, mouthing a silent yes as he pulls out the sodas. Then comes the tupperware, and he sticks two spoons into the corn. “Cheers.” He holds his out.
You tap your spoon against his, and gasp in fake shock when he knocks the food of it.
“Gotta be ready, babe,” he deadpans, snatching up your bite after he eats his. “Danger is waiting at every turn.”
You shake your head and laugh, scooting the tupperware closer to yourself. “You’re so weird.”
“You love it,” He grins, and you can’t argue with that.
After you eat, JJ pulls out the package of hotdogs and starts to prep the rods.
“There’s no way you can catch fish with those,” you question, wrinkling your nose at them. You frown, turning on the puppy-dog eyes. “Do we have to fish? I wanna smoke.”
He copies your expression and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor bunny,” he mocks, but shoves your fishing pole in your hand all the same. “Catch a fish, I’ll roll you a joint, ‘kay?”
You sigh. “ ‘Kay,”
He grins and plants a kiss on your forehead. “You got it, babe.” He gives you a chunk of hotdog and you slip it onto the hook. JJ comes up behind you to guide your cast and you let him, his breath warm on the back of your neck. There’s the whir of the line, and the satisfying plop of the bobber in the water.
“Now, we wait.” He takes the rod from you and drops it into the holder, and works on casting his own line.
You’re bored before he even puts his down. “I have to catch a fish before we smoke?”
“Yeah, crybaby.” The two of you sit on the bow, feet dangling over the water. His ankle knocks against yours.
You let out another dramatic sigh, but you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “This is the worst part. I hate waiting.”
JJ laughs. “Yeah, honey. I am well aware.” He pokes your side, and you yelp dramatically. Reaching over you, he pulls the speaker out of your basket, and turns it on. You watch as he connects to it and goes through his spotify, thumb skimming over the screen as he looks through his playlists. JJ clicks on one of your collaborative playlists, titled “songs for slow dancing.”
He stands up, reaching out to pull you up as the hauntingly pretty piano intro for Aretha Franklin’s Daydreaming begins to play. “Wanna kill some time?”
You smile, and let him pull you into him. You think you could slow dance with him until you dropped dead, until you collapsed into each other and turned into intertwined fossils. Maybe that kind of thing is a little too poetic for the two of you, but you don’t really care. He starts to sing along, and you press your ear to his chest to hear his voice thrum through his chest.
daydreaming and i’m thinking of you, daydreaming and i’m thinking of you…
One of his hands splays on the small of your back, fingertips sneaked under the waist of your shorts, callused and all too soft. The other one is holding yours as you sway back and forth to the beat.He twirls you out fast, and back into his grip, your back to his chest as he squeezes you.
No one would ever know it, but JJ absolutely loves to dance. A little after you started dating, you dragged him to some swing dancing classes at the community center, and expected plenty of pushback, but you were met with absolutely none. The two of you fell in love stepping on each others toes and falling all over each other. It’s always a fun party trick to pull out at the fancier parties. He’s always wanting to dance with you, whether it’s learning how to shag in the living room late at night, or spinning you around on the boat.
He stops you mid-step, asking, “Can we try the dirty-dancing jump?”
The dirty-dancing jump has only been successfully executed by the two of you once. All other times have ended in someone being injured (usually JJ). Your jaw drops open, and you lightly shove him. “Absolutely not! You wanna fall off the boat?”
He gives you the biggest eyeroll, but immediately switches to puppy dog eyes when you cross your arms. “Just like, a lift? Pleaseeeee,” he drags out, taking your hands and acting like he’s going limp.
“Fine! But if you drop me in this water, I’m actually going to have serious beef with you, Maybank.”
He laughs, maybe an itty-bit manaically, and grabs your waist. “Okay, I’m gonna count you off, and you’ll jump, ‘kay? So, one, two, three-”
You hear your fishing rod rattle in its holder and jump away from him. “My line!” Scrambling after it, you grab the pole right as it looks like it’s going to leap out of its holster.
“Get it babe!” JJ practically shouts, darting behind you and placing his arms around yours to give you a little support.
The whir of the line rushing out makes you jump, and you hurry to start reeling it back in, furiously turning the handle. JJ’s mouth is by your ear as you lean into him and he talks you up as you fight the fish. “Come on, baby, you got it. Keep going, keep going, you almost got it!”
He’s pulling half the weight, you know that, but you don’t mind the help when you can watch the cords in his forearms tense and pull.
Finally, the line leaps out of the water, and soon a big scaly body is flopping on the deck of the boat. “Atta girl!” JJ shouts as you snatch it up by the lure, holding it up proudly. It’s pretty heavy, probably a little over 14 pounds.
“Look at that, baby! Got yourself a bluefish.” JJ is smiling so proudly as he fishes out his phone, and makes you pose for a picture like one of those Tinder frat guys. The flash is harsh and you know you look crazy, but he grins at the picture all the same.
“Can you throw him back in? He’s too pretty to eat,” you ask as he messes with something on his phone. You’re still holding the fish as you try to lean over and see what he’s doing.
“Here, yeah.” He drops his phone on the boat deck and takes the fish from you to fling back in. When you look at his phone, you see your face staring back up at you from his lockscreen. It was some picture of the two of you from a party, but now it’s you and your fish. He immediately changed his wallpaper after he took the picture. In your opinion, it’s definitely not a knockout photo, but you almost tear up at the sweetness of it.
“You looked cute,” JJ shrugs, seeing you looking at it.
You just smile, shaking your head, and lean against him. “Can we get high now?”
“Damn, you waste no time, huh?”
Soon, your fishing rods forgotten, you’re watching JJ roll you a joint to share. His fingers dance along the rolling paper, tucking and smoothing all gentle. He’s mesmerizing. When his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you swear you start salivating.
He catches you staring, hitting you with that heartbreaker grin again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Shut up and light up,” you sigh, reaching for the blunt in his hands.
“Can’t light up if you don’t hand me my lighter,” JJ frowns, expression sarcastic. He puts his hand out, waiting.
You reach into your basket and pull it out, smiling when you see it. A few months ago, you had decided to buy JJ a custom lighter. You got him one off Etsy, a cheap Bic lighter with your face printed on the plastic. Of course, the image didn’t translate correctly, so the picture is heavily distorted, your smile big and wide and eyes even bigger.
It’s probably his favorite possession.
He lights the joint, letting it smoke for a second before raising it to his lips.
“Hey,” you whine, reaching for his hand.
“So needy,” he chides, taking a hit, gripping you by your neck, and blowing the smoke into your open mouth. Your breath hitches as you try your best to inhale, try to not think about his lips just ghosting over yours, his calloused fingers hard on the sides of your neck.
“Good girl,” he exhales as you successfully breathe in without hacking up your lungs.
The frogs are peeping and the wind is slow and soft, pushing the smoke around the two of you and enveloping you in it. You’re talking mindlessly as the joint passes between you, staring at the way moonlight shines through JJ’s hair, turning it platinum. His irises catch the light just right- bright, icy blue.
You’re sitting cross-legged, knees knocking with his. All you can think about his how much you love your boyfriend, even with the edges of your mind soft and your senses fuzzy. JJ takes your hand, pressing the pads of your fingertips against his.
“It’s like I can feel your fingerprints,” he comments, fingertips lightly rubbing yours. He pulls your hand as he leans back, so you’re both on your back, looking at the stars.
“It’s so pretty,” you whisper in awe. With absolutely zero light pollution, the sky is a myriad of deep black and blue hues and so, so many stars. You’d decompose while trying to count them all. You snuggle up against J as he takes a final hit. From your perspective, the rising smoke almost looks like it’s weaving through the stars, netting around them and sparkling right above your head. JJ tosses the remnant of the joint into your grocery bag of trash.
“C’mere,” he sighs, propping himself up and running a hand down your torso. When he kisses you, he tastes like smoke and sweat, and a wave of heat rushes through you just from the taste. You’re pulling him on top of you by the loops of his cargo shorts, pressing yourself against the firm plane of his abdomen.
“God, you’re needy,” he laughs, pinning your hips down with a heavy hand.
“You made me this way,” you squirm, and it’s true. He’s too generous with his touches and too sugary with his words, and you chase him like he’s a hit of the purest cocaine.
He shifts on top of you, a knee between your thighs just like you like it. He presses his knee up just to see you gasp and grind down on him. JJ’s laugh is a little mean as snaps the waistband of your shorts. “Okay, honey, what do you want?”
There’s no shame in your voice as you blurt out, “Fuck me.” You’re whining out a plea before he can even answer, with no care that you’re out in the open… no care that the cops patrol at night.
JJ fakes shock, but the hardness of him against you gives him away. “You wanna get fucked, huh. Out in the open?”
“Don’t act like this wasn’t your whole plan, smartass,” you counter as he pins your hands down right above your head.
He just laughs in response. “Dirty, dirty, dirty,” he tuts rebukingly, but he’s pulling apart the tie of your swimsuit top all the same.
as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank smut
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the pogues/ESPECIALLY JJ would protect innocent!reader SO MUCH. like she could be the youngest or something and they would go back for her (for ex. when they had to leave jb in s3). anyways jj would so definitely say something like, “you’re like their little sister, but you’re MY girl.” yk
my woman ~ jj maybank x reader
Ahh yes, I totally agree, and I LOVE the innocent!reader and JJ trope>>>
summary: in the ask! not from season 3 but a close concept. :)
pairing: jj x innocent!fem!reader
warnings: slight language, reader in danger, mega fluff.
notes: lowercase intended, this was made late at night and not rlly edited srry if its bad lmao, (jj requests open still)
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
you shifted around and felt the sun on your face as your eyes fluttered open. you were in the twinkie bumping along a winding road, clinging onto jj, who was sitting in his seat, like a koala. or as jay called it, "the front pack", it was like a piggyback but on his front because he always wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.
you shifted your legs around his torso and lifted your head from the crook of his neck.
"hiya, cupcake," he whispered softly, taking one of his arms that was wrapped around you and moving it so he could brush strands of hair from out of your eyes. "good nap?"
you nodded, wiping the sleep from your eyes, and he smiled. you suddenly recalled how you had gotten here and relief washed over you.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
you were running through alleyways on the cut, you felt betrayed. where had the pogues gone? they were there with you five seconds ago and now you were running away from those bloody square groupers alone.
over by the pogues, jj was having a mental breakdown, "where did she go man?"
"damn it!" john b exclaimed."pope, i thought she was behind you when we cut down this way!
"we have to go back for her-" jj houghed.
"i don't know jay..."
"no... no. we have to." he held his hat in one hand and ran the other through his hair in distress.
"he's right, we have to." pope agreed.
"come on man, we finally lost those guys and now you want to follow em?" john b sighed.
"jb you of all people should understand, she's like a little sister to you man! she's still only 16 and this kind of stuff scares the shit out of her, i can't do that to her guys-"
"john b we're going after her," kie pleaded.
"god! we're wasting time, i'm gonna go after her, even if i have to do it by myself!" jj ran off in your last seen direction. john b gave in and followed along with the rest of the pogues, they all knew jj was right, and their group wouldn't survive without you.
as you continued to run, blood pumping through your ears, you looked for the best spot to hide behind, trying to throw them off. you slid behind a large dumpster and listened as the sets of footsteps of the two men ran past you.
you waited a moment, calming your breathing before you moved from behind the bin. you jumped as the footsteps came back in your direction, but instead of those square groupers, it was jj and the pogues.
"y/n!" j sighed in relief scooping you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, that will never happen again-"
you just stood there too exhausted to complain, your face buried in his chest. john b brought the twinkie around the corner and you all piled in, driving off into the night.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"you came back for me," you smiled at your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his neck, still facing him on his lap.
"of course," jj said. "you know you're like their little sister, we honestly would fall apart without you... and your my girl."
"your girl?" you giggled.
"my girl, my woman, my soulmate." he repeated smoothly pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. "you sure you're okay?"
"yeah," you said, leaning into his touch, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "perfect,"
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x reader#obx fanfiction#outer banks#john b routledge#kiara carrera#pope hayward#sarah cameron#innocent reader#obx
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This particular screenshot absolutely took me (and other viewers) out on the first watch.
Where was he hiding those broad shoulders and all that muscle before? How did he make all of us believe he was just another silly twinky anime man?
Listen to me: it's all about the jacket.
The creators of Tristamp have talked extensively in the past about how they changed the design of Vash's jacket and had him wear it unzipped to reflect the fact that this is a more "open" Vash. But for all his openness, he's still hiding.
See, the jacket dwarfs him. It's this big billowing piece of fabric that manages to hang on his massive frame and make him look much smaller than he is. And that's on purpose. Vash wants to look smaller. He wants to be perceived as less threatening.
Because even with his nice eyes and soft voice, if he walked into a town looking like this, with all his strength on full display, people could still perceive him as a threat, even slightly. Vash plays up how harmless he is all the time, as we saw in episode 1. It's kinda his thing. So it would make sense for it to extend to his physical presentation as well.
There's something we have to remember about Vash. He doesn't want to be dangerous. It's a part of himself he doesn't like looking at or acknowledging. Hiding behind his coat, hiding the physical markers of how "dangerous" he could be, is all part of that.
@tristampparty
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you are everything - j.m x fem!reader
posted jan 27th, 2024 3:15pm
anon asked: Hey, could u write this prompt: “I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly” for jj Maybank and Y/n fem reader. Maybe make it like an emotional scene like they are best friends and they got into a fight about her doing something dangerous idk, but it makes her realize jj loves her and then she asks the prompt like later that night.
sososo sorry for the wait love, i hope u enjoy.
use of Y/n, John B plays cupid/the mediator, swearing, not proofread.
masterlist
wordcount: 1.4k
Things had always been rocky in terms of the ”what are we?” factor for you and JJ, it was fun in the beginning and as the hunt for the gold took over the Pogues’ lives it turned into something with more substance behind it.
Your heart nearly left your chest every time JJ pulled one of his stunts, every time he would sit there and flirt with Kie, and every single time that he decided to sleep over at yours, claiming he was too tired to go all the way home or just to the chateau.
Of course, you let him stay every time, why wouldn’t you?
This last time things were different. You were in the hot seat, you had to prove just how much that stupid phrase meant to you.
Pogues 4 Life and Ride or Dies had grown to mean the same things.
The cards were laid out on the table and they spelled your name.
JJ insisted on you not going he had fought John B over it.
“If she goes in there alone she’s screwed, man!” JJ was angry, John B knew how much you mattered to him and agreed to it anyway “What if it was Sarah, huh?”
“Don’t bring her into this, man” John B gave JJ a warning look as JJ scoffed and shook his head, his gaze shifted to the floor, almost ashamed of the words he was about to say aloud.
“Anything, I mean anything happens to her, John B, and I will never speak to you again.”
Yet he still spoke them, and with how much the two boys had conquered together they both knew every word as the truth, John B knew how risky it was to send you in to steal that artifact, although small you could be killed if found with it.
But John B needed it, and you offered.
“If I had told her no, she would’ve fought me, you know that.” John B said, a softer tone in his voice as he watched his best friend nod in response to his words. “I know she would have”
Despite the protests from Pope, who had just been against the idea altogether, and JJ you still went in, walking through the dark museum while getting flashbacks to when JB and JJ convinced you to come investigate the abandoned house by the chateau in 8th grade.
You were all chased out by a scary man with a gun, it wasn’t loaded but 14-year-old you didn’t know that, JJ and John B were cheering and hollering with all of their adrenaline on your way back while you focused on not having a panic attack.
You had felt all those feelings from when you were 14 all rushing back now,
But you did it, and when you made it out to the Twinkie and you were met with happy smiles and excited cheers you weren’t fighting off a panic attack, and you weren’t 14, and JJ was pissed.
~
JJ was fuming,
You were confused because what does it matter?
It was barely a week ago that JJ had nearly killed himself while wrecking his motorbike but when you decide to sacrifice something it's bad?
“I have just as much on the line as you do JJ! What the hell is the difference?” Your tone had come off more tired than angry, a slight contrast to JJ’s
“No, you don’t! See when I do shit like that it's okay because I’m not important but you! You are everything, Y/n, why would you even risk something so stupid like that?” JJ’s voice sounded exasperated.
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you thought about JJ’s words, you opened your mouth to respond but before you could he shook his head and left, left his backpack on the couch, and walked to the door. shook his head, and left.
JJ just left the chateau, leaving you standing there alone to really think over whatever the hell just happened between you two.
“You okay?” the sound of John B’s voice snapped you out of the trance JJ left you in, turning to look at him as he stood at the entrance of the backdoor.
“Yea- Yeah, I’m fine, yeah.” shrugging shoulders and repetitive words didn’t quite convince either of you as you sighed. “He’s being so weird about this, John B,” you said, giving up on the everything is fine, facade as you put your face in your hands.
“He’s just protective over you, should’ve seen how bitchy he got with me when I let you go in there.” John B, sat on the old couch, watching you with sympathetic eyes.
John B knew why JJ was being like this because of course he does, he just wasn’t planning to share with the class.
“JJ is never like this with the rest of the pogues, not even you! Why does he single me out?” Your gaze fell on JB as he looked up at you with a small smile and a shrug. “I honestly couldn’t tell you what it is but, I’ve only ever gone that hard for Sarah” His words sunk in as he stood up and went down the hall to his bedroom, leaving you with the aftermath of uncovering more questions.
You sat where John B had previously, repeating his words in your head, what’s that even supposed to mean? Is he trying to play the sneaky and ominous- Oh my god, he’s trying to play Cupid.
But it’s not like JJ’s in love with you or something, he just couldn’t be.
But
If he had been in love with you that may explain many things, especially his behavior, and oh my god, again.
“JB, I’m leaving!” You called out, standing up and grabbing both your own and JJ’s backpacks as you rushed out the door not wasting time on waiting for John B to say bye.
JJ had taken off on his motorbike which made you seriously regret having your dad help him fix it right about now as you had to go on foot but at least you knew where he’d be.
~
It had been a thirty-minute walk but finally, that old bike came into view just before the familiar blond did, he fixed his hat, picking it up and shaking his hair for a second before putting it back on. He didn’t notice until you sat beside him, JJ turned to look at you before looking back at the water.
A few moments passed like this, silence settling between you as you both stared at the water, arms touching and breathing becoming synced up. “You’re just not super replaceable” JJ broke the silence first, nudging your arm ever so softly. “Yeah, but neither are you” you nudged him back, looking at him only to be met with him already looking at you.
You sighed, eyes flickering over his face as his gaze fell to what you could swear were your lips. “I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly” Your voice was soft and quiet as you spoke, watching as JJ merely nodded in response.
“Are you in love with me?” JJ’s whole body tensed at the question, he panicked, looking out to the water while thinking of an answer that wouldn’t take away every last bit of dignity he had left-
“Because I love you, JJ” You knew he was looking for an out and your genuine confession gave him one. He looked back at you as soon as the words settled in, “I just, I can’t-” JJ sighed, words stopping in his throat, eyes pleading with you to just understand, and of course you did.
Why would it suddenly be so easy for him to say out loud when he never hears it?
“I know, J, just yes or-” “Yes, I am” he nodded so eagerly you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Good,” you nodded.
You leaned into his hand when it found your cheek, gently guiding your face to his own before finally kissing you. Soft and slow and full of unsaid words, you felt it still even when he pulled back and sucked in a harsh breath. “I love you” JJ whispered, as if he was scared of it because he was.
But as you pulled him back for another kiss, he couldn’t help but think maybe he wouldn’t be anymore.
But that wouldn’t stop your JJ from fighting anyone who allowed you to get in harm's way, including you.
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#outer banks imagines#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank
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PROMPTS FROM GHOSTBUSTERS (1984)
* assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary. who ya gonna call?
i want you to concentrate.
you can't see these, can you?
i'm getting a little tired of this!
what are you trying to prove here, anyway?
will you excuse me for a second?
we're close on this one. i can feel it.
you are a legitimate phenomenon.
this is big, [name], this is very big. there is definitely something here.
that would have worked if you hadn't stopped me.
i hope we can clear this up quickly and quietly.
back off, man. i'm a scientist.
listen! do you smell something?
this happened to you before?
could you come over here and talk to me for a second, please?
one of us should actually try to speak to it.
i'm gonna take back some of the things i've said about you.
the possibilities are limitless!
this is preposterous. i demand an explanation.
your methods are sloppy and your conclusions are highly questionable.
you don't know what it's like out there.
for whatever reasons... call it fate, call it luck, call it karma, i believe that everything happens for a reason.
where are we going to get the money?
i think this building should be condemned.
hey, does this pole still work?
wow, this place is great. when can we move in?
you gotta try this pole.
hey, we should stay here tonight! sleep here! you know, try it out!
you wanna come in for a mineral water or something?
are you troubled by strange noises in the night?
have you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter, or ghost?
we're ready to believe you!
you can't park that here!
i bet you like to read a lot, too.
i collect spores, mold, and fungus.
i'd like to talk to someone, please.
what i'm about to say may sound a little unusual.
i'm sorry, i don't believe in any of those things.
if something's gonna happen here, i want it to happen to me first.
you don't act like a scientist.
i'm gonna go for broke. i am madly in love with you.
i bet you're going to be thinking about me after i'm gone.
hey, anybody seen a ghost?
did you ever report it to anyone?
i hope we can take care of this quietly.
well, no sense worrying about it now.
i think we'd better split up.
don't move. it won't hurt you.
i feel so funky.
there's something very important i forgot to tell you.
wait wait wait! i've always wanted to do this.
well, that wasn't such a chore now, was it?
we came! we saw! we kicked its ass!
you're a big celebrity now.
so who the hell was that?
i'm not at liberty to say.
i want to know more about what you do here.
that's a big twinkie.
do you have any excedrin or extra strength tylenol?
listen, maybe if we start dancing, other people will join in.
that's a different look for you, isn't it?
do you want this body?
i want you inside me.
you said before you were waiting for a sign. what sign are you waiting for?
i have a terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen to you.
i think that would be extraordinarily dangerous.
how about a little music?
you had your chance to cooperate, but you thought it'd be more fun to insult me. well, now it's my turn, wise ass.
i'm not interested in your opinion.
if he does that again, you can shoot him.
i am going to get you a nice fruit basket.
i was in no way prepared for that.
you wanna play rough?
are you a god?
let's show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown!
i couldn't help it. it just popped in there.
well, that's something you don't see every day.
sorry, [name]. i'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.
i feel like the floor of a taxi cab.
#mcflymemes#ghostbusters#rp prompt#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#rp starters#ask memes#ask meme#roleplay meme#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#sentence starters#movie prompts
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any thoughts on the obsession with "hyperprocessed foods"? is there even such a thing and if so how much of the stuff around it is fake?
such a flawed useless categorisation lmao; this phrase comes from the nova scale, according to which an "ultra-processed food" is identified by a lack of sufficient "intact" food and the presence of "sources of energy and nutrients not normally used in culinary preparations" and additives specifically "used to initate or enhance the sensory qualities of food or to disguise unplatable aspects of the final product" (other additives, such as preservatives, antioxidants, and stabilisers, only qualify a food as group 3, "processed"). ultra-processing is defined as "a multitude of sequences of processing [...] includ[ing] several with no domestic equivalents," and ultra-processed foods are "usually packaged attractively and marketed intensely."
......so ok, first of all, this is very obviously reliant on a lot of assumptions about what 'normal' cooking and cooking equipment means, lmao. i do all kinds of shit in the kitchen that would have been inaccessible to someone in the mid nineteenth century; has the food become 'less processed' because i can make it at home now? if i obtained the equipment to hydrogenate oils myself would they magically not be ultra-processed simply because they came from my kitchen and not from an industrial setting?
this is just quasi-scientific language to express a fundamental distrust of food produced in ways that currently can't be replicated in [researchers' definitions of] a [normal] home kitchen. it's barely more sophisticated than platitudes like michael pollan's command to "eat only foods your grandmother would recognise". using the nova classifications to make assumptions about the healthfulness or danger of a food is just silly; the presumption is that the dietary and medical effects are not due to the food itself but to how it's produced, an idea that has led researchers to conclude that "the NOVA system suffers from a lack of biological plausibility so the assertion that ultra-processed foods are intrinsically unhealthful is largely unproven."
fundamentally the only evidence that nutritional scientists have been able to produce is observational studies showing a correlation between certain ill health outcomes and consumption of 'ultra-processed food'.
But the observational studies also have limitations, said Lauren O’Connor, a nutrition scientist and epidemiologist who formerly worked at the Department of Agriculture and the National Institutes of Health. It’s true that there is a correlation between these foods and chronic diseases, she said, but that doesn’t mean that UPFs directly cause poor health.
Dr. O’Connor questioned whether it’s helpful to group such “starkly different” foods — like Twinkies and breakfast cereals — into one category.
[...]
Clinical trials are needed to test if UPFs directly cause health problems, Dr. O’Connor said. Only one such study, which was small and had some limitations, has been done, she said.
ie, when evaluating the healthfulness of foods you have to actually look at what they are and what the human body does with them, and not just make a bunch of wild assumptions based on fears about their lack of proximity to 'naturalness' or propensity to be advertised (unlike, i guess, other more intact foods, which are not commodities. who knew!)
and there are like a million trillion other reasons why this correlation might hold: off the top of my head, for instance, people who rely more on the convenience of ready-made foods likely to be categorised as 'ultra-processed' are likely to be people who can't cook because they don't have time because they're working. so as usual nutrition and health science does a dogshit job distinguishing between the health effects of socioeconomic status and those of whatever some dickwad wants to publish a splashy study about.
there are certainly 'ultra-processed' foods that we can be extremely confident are harmful to human health---for example, trans fats. but the categorisation as a whole is so conceptually flawed as to be useless for any purpose besides as a term that 'scientises' culturally held beliefs about the wholesomeness and healthfulness of home food preparation, and the corresponding danger and artificiality of industrial production and methods.
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a week in outfits: puppy!reader edition ♡
monday
puppy!reader is working at the pet shop. she likes her job a lot, as she has lots of energy to be interacting with all the animals and customers. however, she often gets upset when animals get sick or no one will adopt them — which causes her to return home in tears, calling up john b to ramble about how they need to get a dog together. he gently shuts it down and suggests a new job.
tuesday
john b picks puppy!reader up the next day for some kind of stake-out. he’s in full-on mission mode, which of course she finds sexy — so if she’s not pulling random things out her pockets to show him, she’s pawing at him and distracting him from the task at hand. he’s not totally cruel though, he’ll give her a quick dicking down in the back of the twinkie before picking up the rest of the pogues to pursue the mission.
wednesday
john b has to go and partake in something dangerous, alone as to not put you in danger. therefore, to make sure you stay behind and behave he sends jj to take you fishing. its an affair of you throwing yourself into the water at random, shouting “IM DROWNING” when you’re really not, and sending him back to the chateau to fetch ice popsicles. he has fun, even if you’re a handful.
thursday
john b returns to the chateau where the rest of the pogues gather to debrief his new findings. puppy is not too involved, honestly — simply minding her business and running around bringing everyone snacks. she often get bored and ends up on his lap as he rambles away, missing when all the attention was on her.
friday
kegger time! puppy loves parties, she thinks they’re so fun and is super sociable especially when she gets drunk (which is after literally one drink — and has to be forcefully stopped from making friendly conversation with rafe. no one knows why she’s the only pogue he likes and will even pose for her pictures on her little polaroid before getting dragged off and scolded) on behalf of her, everyone regrets the option to wear something strapless as she’s constantly on the verge of popping a titty. john b is stressed, constantly fixing her shirt for her — jj’s even stressed, pope is definitely stressed, having to yank her shirt up when john b is preoccupied. she goes missing for a small portion of the night, only to be found again by jj — dragging her back to the party by the scruff of her neck.
saturday
as puppy had drunkenly expressed that she was upset that john b had been taking off and not giving her much attention lately the night before, he plans a cute little chill date night at the chateau to apologise for neglecting her. they watch their favourite movies, eat greasy pizza — and like always, puppy ends up on his lap, barely able to get any of her clothes off as she humps away.
sunday
lazy day running errands with her bf. shes tired from the eventful week, for once not bouncing off the walls and instead insisting on napping on him — but john b drags her outside anyway to buy some groceries for the week ahead.
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hi! can you do one where jj and the reader smoke but the reader gets too high so jj helps calm her down? thanks!
Too High
jj maybank x reader
wc: 857
a/n: sorry this took forever and sorry it kinda sucks.
(not my gif)
You never used to smoke. That was a fact. Then you met JJ and everything changed. JJ never forced you to smoke. It was entirely your decision to try it.
JJ smokes a lot so you figured you'd give it a try. You smoked a couple of times already and you had fun. You liked it but not as much as JJ.
You and JJ were at the château. You were hanging out in JJ's room.
"I'm bored," you voiced.
"Wanna smoke," JJ offered with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Sure."
"Let's go in the twinkie," JJ added.
"Ok."
You and JJ ventured outside and into the twinkie. Once he was seated in the back of the van, JJ began rolling a joint.
When he was finished he took out his lighter and lit the joint. He took a puff inhaling the smoke and blowing it back out.
JJ always looks so hot when he smokes. You were practically drooling.
JJ noticed you looking at him so he handed you the joint. You took a long drag causing you to cough after.
"Easy there girly."
Once your coughing stopped you turned your attention towards JJ. He was placing the joint between his lips and inhaling.
JJ then proceeded to grab your face and blow smoke into your mouth. You then cradled JJ's jaw in your hand and placed your lips on his in a deep kiss.
The kiss was sloppy. JJ was relieved you kissed him. JJ wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as you kissed.
Your lips were caressing each other's. When you were done making out you pulled away.
Then you took the joint out of JJ's hand and brought it to your lips.
You guys smoked for a while passing the joint back and forth. You were starting to feel the effects of the marijuana.
You suddenly became disoriented and confused. You started to see things that weren’t really there. You were having hallucinations but to you you couldn’t tell. They felt real to you.
You were seeing things and you started to panic. “Jayj” you asked.
JJ looked over at you and he could tell something was wrong. Your face showed distress and you were trembling.
“Woah hey baby what’s wrong?” JJ asked concerned.
“Everything is spinning and I’m seeing things and I don’t know what to do. I’m panicking JJ. Help me please.”
“Slow down. It’s going to be okay. I promise you you are gonna be okay,” JJ soothed.
“I’m gonna need you to close your eyes and take three deep breaths,” JJ continued.
JJ then reached for your hands and took them in his. He held both of your hands and used his thumb to brush the skin on top of your hands in a comforting manner.
You then closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then you took another breath and finally one more. Holding onto JJ’s hands helped to ground yourself.
“There you go pretty girl, just relax and calm down,” JJ voiced.
“Take it easy. Your gonna be ok.” JJ commented.
“I’ll be right back princess,” JJ mused.
“Please hurry,” you asked.
JJ went back into the château to fetch you some water.
In no time JJ was back with a water bottle and you tried your best not to be anxious when you waited for him.
“Here drink this it will help.” JJ handed the water bottle to you after he opened it for you.
You took the water bottle and chugged it.
“Jayj, thank you,” you spoke finally finding words.
“Are you feeling any better?” JJ asked.
“A little,” you responded.
You still felt a little woozy but you were trying your best to remain calm and not panic. It felt like you were way too high and you weren’t sure if you’d ever smoke again. The experience was traumatizing.
But at least you had JJ. You know that he will always take care of you and never put you in any danger.
You released JJ’s hands and reached for him wanting to give him a hug. JJ opened his arms for you and you fell into his embrace.
After a while the effects of the weed wore off. You felt a lot better and you were calm. JJ and you were a perfect pair. And you loved each other very much. You went on adventures together, partied together, and smoked weed together. Now JJ loves his weed but he loves you more.
When your smoke session was over you went back into the château and into JJ’s room.
“Can we cuddle I just want to be close to you,” you asked.
“Of course my love,” JJ responded.
JJ took off his shirt and hopped in bed. You followed after him. JJ had his arms open for you to crawl into. You laid your head on his bare chest and closed your eyes finally finding a slice of peace.
Eventually you both fell asleep both happy to be with each other. Even though the day’s events took an unexpected turn you still treasured the time you spent together.
#jj maybank#outer banks#obx#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x female!reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#outer banks fanfiction#jj maybank one shot#jj x y/n#jj x you#jj outer banks x reader#jj obx#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank x girlfriend!reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank blurb#jj obx imagine#jj obx fic#obx imagine#obx fic#obx fanfiction#outer banks x reader#outer banks fluff#jj x reader#pogues
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I wanna be fem in a dangerous way and i wanna be masc in a twinky way
#gender#genderfluid#nonbinary#trans#queer#genderqueer#masc#fem#lgbtq#gender expression#gnc#mine#clown#agender#nb
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Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader
Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.
Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, violence, smut.
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 2
It had been 3 weeks since you had gone to your first Hellfire Club meeting, and 3 weeks since Eddie had fallen head over fucking heels for you.
He'd liked you before sure, a harmless crush, but now he knew you were into good music and his favourite fantasy game? Consider him a truly smitten kitten.
And now, when you turn up to school in a Hellfire shirt, ripped jeans and that fucking jacket, Eddie could have kissed you right then and there in Ms O'Donnell's class.
"Hey," you grin as you take your usual seat next to him, sliding him a brown paper bag over to him. "So it turns out that Mountain Dew, cigarettes and Cheetos aren't a substantial diet, so I accidentally on purpose made extra chicken salad today. Figured you'd need some more sustenance y'know, got a feeling tonight's session is going to be killer."
"Hey, I eat other stuff too."
"Twinkies and coffee also don't have fantastic nutritional value, Munson." You tease, rolling your eyes. "Ever heard of a vegetable? Y'know, the healthy green stuff?"
"Oh, I'm into the green stuff alright." Eddie grins, eluding to his precious stash. You give him an exasperated look. "I'm kidding. Thanks. And the uh, the shirt looks good."
"Thanks," you smile, tucking some hair behind your ear. Were you...blushing?? "So, um, I was wondering-"
"Miss Y/L/N, is there something that you need from Mr Munson right this very second?" Ms O'Donnell glares at the pair of you.
"I mean, I guess it could wait, 5, maybe 10 minutes?" You quip, making Eddie chuckle. The old bat doesn't seem to be in as bad a mood as usual today, so somehow you narrowly escape detention but earn yourself an extra 5 chapters on the reading for over the weekend.
Later on, when Eddie is diving in to the fucking delightful chicken salad, the Hellfire Club, minus you as unfortunately you had yet to be released from the grip of the cheerleading table, don't miss the unusually nutritious food their glorious leader is consuming.
"Jesus, Eddie, is that an actual sandwich you're eating?" Gareth teases, for which he gets a mini pretzel to the face.
"Is that what Y/N gave you in English this morning?" Jeff smirked and Eddie rolled his eyes. "It is! She's making food for you?! Damn, when's the wedding?"
Eddie shot him a warning glare and it was clear that this was not a topic to be joked about.
"Jesus." Jeff grumbled, shrinking back in his seat.
"I still can't believe we have a cheerleader in Hellfire," grinned the Henderson kid, clearly loving the events of the last 2 weeks a little too much. The heart eyes the little nerd made at you each week over the table during campaigns was almost laughable.
"She's not just a cheerleader, Henderson," Eddie mumbles through a mouthful of sandwich. Because you weren't. You were a pretty cool person, who liked kick ass music and liked fantasy games, but who could also get her leg above her head, not that Eddie had been thinking about that very much at all-
"Hey, Eddie! Hi guys!" Your voice snaps Eddie out of his rapidly approaching dangerous thoughts and he realises you're stood next to him, your perfume wafting over and Eddie kind of wants to just inhale you.
The rest of the table greets you and then go back to their conversations, mostly about band practice, AV club or possible new campaign ideas. Eddie turns to look at you, smiling.
"What's up?"
"So, I was trying to say before we got interrupted earlier, I was wondering if you're going to be going to Jason's party tonight?" You smile, a hopeful look on your face. Eddie raises his eyebrows.
"Uh, gee, my invite must have gotten lost in the mail," he grins. Like he was getting an invite to that douche fest. It would be the last place on earth he'd ever be caught-
You laugh. "Well, it's a good thing I'm inviting you verbally then, huh?"
"Wait, wait, wait. You want me to come?" Eddie's eyes were practically like saucers now. Was he definitely hearing this right?!
"Of course! I mean you don't have to if you don't want to, I just figured you'd probably get a few extra customers there and I don't wanna be stuck by myself all night. These things get kinda boring when you don't have someone to distract you from the god awful music." You shrug, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.
Goddamn you were too cute.
Eddie sighs. If he was going to suffer through this, at least he could make some extra cash.
And be with you.
"Fuck it, yeah, I'll come."
"Awesome! Pick me up at 7.30?" You hand him a scrap of paper with your address on it. He frowns at it.
"Pick you up? Like a-"
"Like a date, if you want?" Your tone was hopeful, eager, and the biggest shocker was that you were completely serious. You weren't joking. You were actually asking him out. Eddie cleared his throat.
"Shouldn't this, uh, be the other way around?" He gestured between you both, and you shrug.
"I got tired of waiting. So, are we on?"
"It's a date, sweetheart."
***
At 7.30 on the dot, Eddie is waiting outside your house in his van, anxiously checking his own breath again. He was pretty pleased with how he looked tonight, his usual ratty band shirts or Hellfire shirt replaced with simple black tshirt and jeans without holes in, a red plaid shirt and his trusty leather jacket. His hair wasn't too unruly either, which made a nice change, and he was freshly showered and shaved.
Wayne had caught him dabbing aftershave on in the tiny trailer bathroom, hissing at the sting, and thanked whoever was sat on their asses in the sky that his nephew had finally found a date that wasn't a six-pack and a large pizza.
You stepped out of your front door and Eddie just about passed away. You were wearing a simple, short and sleevless black dress, one that clung to you in all the right places, with a chunky belt around your middle. Your legs were bare right down to your Dr Martens. You looked...ethereal. Breath taking.
Your face lit up the moment you locked eyes with Eddie and you walked up to the driver's side window.
"Hey, handsome. We match." You grin, gesturing to your predominantly black outfits.
"That we do," Eddie chuckled, pretending his cheeks weren't warming at you calling him handsome. "Ready to go, cutie?"
Well, if you could call him names...
He definitely noticed your cheeks flushing at that.
The drive to the party was a relatively short one, you and Eddie discussing your favourite Black Sabbath tracks, and whether you think Ozzy really did bite the head off of that bat.
"Bats are so cute! It had to be fake, there's no way." You'd said, a little pout on your face as you talked about it.
"Oh it was real, the way it bled and shit?? There's no way that could be faked." Eddie chuckled. "So fucking metal."
"So fucking gross, what if he got rabies?!" You laugh, sticking your tongue out in disgust. "You know, this isn't good first date conversation."
"It isn't? Damn, I must be a little rusty from the non-existent dating life I have." Eddie smirked. "You have better conversations with uh, whats his name, Anderson??"
The way you frown at him makes Eddie think that maybe that was a bit of a low blow, past the playful bantering and bordering on a little mean.
"I never dated that asshole. And I never fucked him either." You growl. "He's such a prick, as if I'd ever touch him or his warty dick."
Eddie bursts out laughing. "Warty dick?!"
You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. "He got genital warts from hooking up with some girl from out of state one time. Didn't use a rubber so I guess that's what you get. Plus he's a massive asshole, so he deserves it."
Eddie nods in agreement.
"You know him and his massive asshole buddies are going to be there tonight, right?" He says, leaning forward to check the traffic at the junction he'd pulled up to. You sigh.
"I know, again, that's why I invited you. So I have someone to talk to other than Chrissy or Tammy or Ashley about their upcoming dates or our next competition. I just wanna relax and have fun with a cute guy who wants to actually get to know me, not my pussy."
"You think I'm cute?" Eddie slyly grins and you roll your eyes playfully.
"Don't let it go to your head, Munson."
"Which one?" He jokes and you smack him lightly, laughing hard.
***
A few hours later, you're already a few drinks in, blissfully tipsy. Eddie has had maybe one or two piss weak beers, wanting to stay relatively sober to drive you home and to stay on top of his selling game. Although he'd already made bank within the first hour of the party, so now his main concern was you.
Eddie didn't really know what to do with himself; 99% of the people here hated him and avoided him like the plague. So he was happy just to sit on one of the chairs outside with you as you both smoked, happily chatting and getting to know each other better.
He'd not missed how you'd scooted your chair closer to him, or how occasionally your hand would rest on his arm. You'd not missed how he'd lean into you, or brush his hand over your knee or thigh when he was reaching for something.
Your brain swirled in the best way when Eddie took your hand and helped you up so you could both go and get another drink from the kitchen. He went to pull away after you were on your feet, but you linked your fingers through his and led him inside, pushing through the crowd to reach the drinks.
"I gotta piss," Eddie shouted over the thumping music, giving your hand a squeeze to wordlessly let you know he'd be back. You nodded, grabbing another cup and looking around for the bottle you had been nursing the entire night.
"Wow, Y/N, you fucking the freak now? Made your way through the football, basketball and baseball teams and needed a new challenge?" Anderson's ribbing voice floats over the loud music and you bristle, but ignore him. "Aw, what's wrong baby? Did I touch a nerve?"
"Fuck you Anderson. Take your micro dick and go bother someone else." You snap, finishing mixing your drink and attempting to leave the kitchen. Anderson scoffs, trapping you against the counter with his hefty quarterback frame, his alcohol soaked breath fanning over you making you want to gag.
"You look sexy tonight, Y/N, s'like you're begging to be fucked. You know that freak Munson couldn't do half the shit I could do to you," Anderson slurs and you shudder in disgust.
"What's that? Last 20 seconds and pretend like you rocked my world? I told you once and I'll tell you again, I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last creature on earth, Anderson. Fuck. Off." You growl, pushing against him but he doesn't move. He smirks, shoving his hand up your skirt. Your reflexes kick in and you drive your knee up, straight into his crotch as hard as you can. When he staggers backwards clutching his groin, you punch him square between the eyes and hear the sickening sound of bones crunching. The pain that shoots through your hand is quickly dulled by adrenaline as Anderson stumbles backwards onto the floor, blood pouring from his nose. The entire party is silent, save for the music which is still playing.
Eddie pushes his way into the kitchen after returning from the bathroom, and his mouth falls open at the scene in front of him. You, panting with fury, skirt pushed up pretty much to your crotch, fist covered in blood, and Anderson crumpled on the floor, blood pissing out of his nose and groaning in pain. Two of the other football players pick him up, staring at you in shock.
"She's a fucking psycho!" Anderson yells, his voice thick with blood. "See what happens when she starts hanging around with that fucking freak?!"
Eddie blinks and you let out a scream of rage, diving for Anderson again. Eddie is quick to grab you, restraining your arms behind your back as you struggle to get at Anderson.
"Hey, hey, hey, easy, alright? It's not worth it," Eddie says, soothing and low in your ear. "Come on, let's go."
"If you ever touch me again, Anderson, I'll cut your dick off!" You growl, still struggling against Eddie's grip as he practically picks you up and carries you out of the house towards his van.
"Eddie, that motherfucker, he-"
"I know, sweetheart. I know." Again with the soothing tone. Eddie pretty much carries you to his van and puts you in the passenger seat, buckling you in. He notices your slight shiver and takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.
Eddie gets in and starts to drive.
"Your hand okay?" He asks gently, and you nod. He sneaks a glance at it, already bruised and covered in blood. "Y/N."
"It hurts," you sniff, your tough exterior cracking. "Fucker has a hard face."
Eddie laughs and you shoot him a look. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, just wish I'd have been there to see you throw the punch."
"And the knee to the balls," you smirk, and Eddie winces slightly, knowing how bad it must have hurt.
"Jesus, Y/N. What did he do?" Although Eddie had a sneaking suspicion judging by the way your skirt had been pushed up practically around your waist when he came back from the bathroom.
"Aside from trying to shove his hands into my underwear, tried to tell me he could..." you trail off, not wanting to say it for fear of scaring Eddie off, or weirding him out.
"He could...?" Eddie probed. You sighed, looking out of the window as you spoke.
"Pretty much that he could fuck me better than you ever could." You said quickly, your cheeks once again flushing scarlet. Eddie went silent, swallowing hard. "He's just an asshole, I don't care what he says about me, but when he brought you into it, I-"
"Had to defend my honour?" Smirking, Eddie looks at you. "Listen, sweetheart, I'm glad you beat the shit out of him, he's a fucking bitch and deserved it but you didn't have to do it for me."
"I know." You answer and the conversation falls into a comfortable silence for a few moments.
"And I could definitely fuck you better than he ever could." Eddie states, making you burst out laughing.
"Renember earlier how I said dont let it go to your head? That's the kind of shit I meant. No more compliments for you, mister."
Taglist: @big-ope-vibes
@50shadesofuncomfortable
@bibieddiesgf
@josephquinngirly
@mich-13
@wintersoldierbaby
@gracieluvthemoon
@lilmisssimp
@cutiecusp
@lovelylittlemetalhead
@angelina16torres-blog
@ceriseheaven
@icallhimjoey
@harrys-four-nipples
@chaoticgood-munson
@quinnypixie
@joesquinns
@quinnsbower
@ghostinthebackofyourhead
@joejoequinnquinn
@ches-86
@mystars123
#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie smut#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things fluff#eddie munson fluff#stranger things smut#stranger things eddie munson#stranger things fanfiction
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Random Henry Danger canon things I think are wild:
Canonically, Henry, his parents, Piper, Charlotte, and Ray, have all drank Jasper's blood.
Jasper eats raw eggs.
The was a dude who was pooping in playgrounds was never caught. (Sidenote the dude playing him was Jace Norman's stunt double)
Jasper is scared of bunnies but not spiders.
Schwoz created a disease.
Nurse Cohort shaves Dr.Minyak's back hair for him.
Schwoz got married to a computer, then killed her.
Nurse Cohort also thinks Captain Man is hot (same).
Charlotte was trapped in Henry's dream for 4 hours.
There's cameras installed in Henry’s house and room.
Schwoz has had multiple relations with computers/Android women.
Jasper tazed himself multiple times (before and after) accidently telling Ray that Charlotte and Henry were 'dating' because he felt bad.
Henry doesn't wash his hands after using the bathroom.
Schwoz has tattoos.
There's mirrors in the man cave showers.
Ray also has a hot tub in his room.
Henry was a girl once.
Mole ppl exist.
Schwoz went skinny dipping with Ray.
Jasper has a metal plate in his head from an injury he got from teaching a donkey how to kick field goals.
Ray dispite being to space and seeing himself that the earth is in fact round, believes the earth is flat.
Jasper once tied up the janitor (thinking he was a villain) and tazed him repeatedly.
Ray was a theater kid.
Jasper has a belly button piercing.
There's a hot tub somewhere in the man cave.
Charlotte is dating a famous singer.
Henry and Ray robbed a bank.
Ray dressed in drag in an attempt to sneak into mom con.
Henry went to flower camp.
The Love Shuttle.
Jaspers' favorite meal is fish sticks and peas
Piper can't cook.
Schwoz has stolen 2 girlfriends from Ray.
Jasper became a dad briefly. (And was the best parent in Swellview, btw)
Eating grilled cheese makes Henry feel masculine. (Same)
All the main characters have been to jail.
Jasper participates in Yodeling Karaoke club and has won companions.
Charlotte would rather get eaten by a lion than kiss Henry.
Jasper drinks raw eggs.
RAY WAS PREGNANT!
Piper went to LA
Schwoz and Gooche took a vacation together in Palm Springs.
Jasper squeezes all the cream out of his doodle cake (nickelodeon version of twinkies) before eating them.
Henry ate a hamburger out of Jasper's underwear.
Jasper believes that Charlotte has a crush on him and has never once pursued it.
Sydney dresses Oliver every morning.
Ray doesn't use shampoo.
Jasper listens to Celine Dion.
Oliver can break dance.
Ray uses vibrating soap 💀
Jasper's grandma died at some point during the show, and Piper pulled a prank at her funeral.
#henry danger#jasper dunlop#henry hart#kid danger#dangerverse#ray manchester#captain man#charlotte page bolton#piper hart#jake hart
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part 2 of ‘How long have you been standing there?’ (part 1)
Summary: reader accidentally admitted her feelings for JJ infront of him, so they need to figure this out.
Pairing: JJx reader
Warnings: swearing, substances using and mean flirting.
A/n: so happy someone asked for part 2. again sorry for mh english and please send requests<3
When JJ texted you the words ‘i’m here’ you felt like you were going to throw up.
The butterflies in your stomach never left you alone all evening, even when you were almost crying when you couldn’t decide what to wear. Are jeans appropriate to make a fool of yourself on a date with the boy you swore you hated just an hour before?
You weren’t even sure if that was a date or just a way to torture yourself.
On the way between your house’s door and the twinkie it was as if you felt your feet sink into the ground. Meanwhile the blond was sitting at the wheel, with his gaze fixed on you. You were always so confident in yourself, why was it so difficult right now? Was it that your feelings had never been exposed for anyone before? No, you had to compose yourself.
So you opened the car door, his eyes still burning on your skin, and greeted him with a flebile ‘Hi’.
He smiled so sweetly and… there was the nausea again.
“You look pretty.”
“Oh,” that took you by surprise, “well thank you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me that I look nice?” he teased with a smirk while turning the key in the ignition.
“But you don’t,” he did. JJ rolled his eyes playfully and started driving.
The only noises on that brief trip were the twinkie’s engine clearly struggling and the foot that you were nervously patting on the floor
“You nervous?” the boy quickly looked at you while the lights of the streets continued to illuminate his features.
“No-” liar, “you wish.” You heard him scoffing.
Another second of silence.
“Where are we going anyway?” you asked, playing with one of your rings to avoid looking at the cause of all your stresses.
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“If you are going to kill me just tell me…”
JJ’s laugh filled up the awkward air and it was like a boulder had been taken off of your chest. You allowed yourself to smile.
“Nah, I don’t kill cute girls.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.
“Shut up.”
He parked near a small pier where you could hear the small waves crushing on the rocks. JJ didn’t wait a second to take out of his pockets his most prized possessions and to get to work.
“Are you rolling a joint, right now?”
He turned your way, the filter in his mouth as he spoke.
“For you, to relax.”
“Not gonna work,” you felt like your heart could explode.
JJ lit up his joint and took a long hit. He looked so hot while he smoked.
“Just take it, it’ll make you feel better,” he offered you the smoke with his right hand.
“Nah huh” you tried to stop him, facing the other way.
“Oh come onnnn” he insisted, until you had to take his hand away with yours. Unfortunately the joint was already placed in your mouth.
You growled and took the hit, using your free hand.
“See? You’re chilling out already.”
“You’re exhausting, JJ” you shoot exasperated, “the most annoying person I’ve ever known.”
“That’s why you love me so much” he grinned in a cheesy way.
You decided to ignore the goosebumps those words provoked, you just wanted to punch him. Or kiss him? No, you definitely needed to hurt him.
“So you wanted to talk, so talk JJ.”
“I thought you were the one who wanted to figure out what this is” his body became dangerously closer. Did he move or did you move?
“What is what?”
“Uhm,” he used the index finger to indicate both of you,”this thing, you and me.”
“Oh no,” you shook your head in an exaggerated way.
“There is no ‘you and me’, you moron. You don’t even like me that way-I don’t even like you.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffed.
“I’m dead serious, you make me sick in my stomach, you-“ he was laughing. Then it hit you.
You traveled your gaze to see your fingers intertwined with his from your previous messy interaction.
You gulped, but your throat was sore.
“The fact that I’m still holding your hand doesn’t change anything I just said.”
“Oh please,” he started rubbing your palm with his thumb, “we would make a perfect couple.” You hated him so much you nearly melted at his touch.
“First of all stop doing that and second of all we will never-“ you were cut off. You didn’t realize that the blonde’s face was so close and now he was kissing you.
All the anxiety, the embarrassment and bad feelings just went away in that simple contact.
“What did you do that for?” JJ’s lips weren’t on yours anymore, but you wanted them to be.
“You talk too much.” You couldn’t stop looking at his mouth slightly parted, some of your lipstick colored his lower lip and that was the sexiest thing you ever witnessed.
“Do it again” you didn’t even believe yourself, but JJ did. So his lips were on yours again, at first just for a quick peck, but then you finally felt his tongue and his arms around your waist.
He was a good kisser, so good that you felt him everywhere. He tasted like weed and licorice. You noticed he wore cologne, just for you, and couldn’t contain a smile.
He sighed too and gently took your hands to position them right where he wanted them to be, on the back of his neck and in his hair. You liked touching him, it was new, exciting and incredibly soft. You wanted more.
You took advantage of your hands placement to bring him even closer to you, holding him so tight.
“If you squeeze me more than this I could suffocate” his whispers were hot on your lips. You were in heaven.
“Okay,” another sweet, sweet kiss,”I don’t care.”
#outer banks#rafe obx#jj maybank#jj x reader#imagines#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj mayback imagine#jjk x y/n#jj mayback x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron#outerbanks#pope outer banks#kiara carerra imagine#kiara carrera#sarah cameron x female reader#john b routledge#obx one shot#obx kooks#obx fluff#obx blurb#topper obx#obx smut#obx fic#writing#topper thorton imagine
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Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 7
Eddie x Teacher!Reader
Chapter 7/? 4.1k. Series Masterlist
✏︎ Reality — something that Eddie is uncomfortably familiar with.
✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.
While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.
✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)
Chapter warnings: weed, angst, sibling death mention
Eddie held a joint between his lips, the paper wetting in his mouth as he tapped out a melody on the fretboard of his warlock, fingers making contact with the strings at a feverish pace. He took a long drag, exhaling the smoke through his nose. The ash on the end of it was dangerously long, threatening to drop onto his bedsheets at any moment.
He paused, reaching over toward his nightstand to tap off the excess into the crowded ashtray and instead knocked over two empty Mountain Dew cans. They sputtered drops of sticky liquid onto his magazines before clattering onto the floor. Eddie cursed. He sighed and reached down into the abyss between his nightstand and the bed to retrieve them, cringing at whatever else may have fallen down there that he had long forgotten about.
It was 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon and Eddie had been awake for all of two hours. There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that he was all too familiar with on Sundays. He returned his hands to the fretboard and noodled around with the strings, tapping out the melody again as the tingle of the drug washed over him.
He glanced over toward his backpack slumped in the corner by the desk. It was 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon and he had not even thought about his homework. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had thought about it. Quite a few times actually.
Yesterday he thought about while he was hunkered over the monster manual that he had to reach into his backpack to retrieve. He thought about it while he was at band practice last night too. And again while he was at the gas station at one in the morning, loading up with cigarettes and twinkies. He even thought about it while he was devouring them in front of his television.
He didn’t think about it at all on Friday night though. Well he kind of did, but that’s because he was mostly thinking about you and it just sort of came with the territory. He was mostly thinking about the way his hands felt around your waist, the one he had been itching to touch for two months now. He thought about the way your body felt in his arms, so warm and soft and real.
He thought if he could play it over and over again in his mind that he could exist in the moment for longer than he was given. He wondered when he would be given another. If he would be given another.
He thought about you, out with your friends at a bar he wasn’t even old enough to drink at. He thought about how often you went out like that, and how many times it would be before someone else saw you the same way he did.
His finger slipped and he muttered a curse at the sour note. He adjusted his headphones and glanced around the room.
There was a pile of clothes at the foot of his closet that had been there for almost a month now. A pile of records in front of the cabinet meant to contain them for even longer. The dust was starting to collect on the top of his amp beside it. He couldn’t even remember the last time he vacuumed.
He wondered what your home looked like. If you had a pile of records too or if yours all had homes like they were supposed to. He wondered what sort furniture you had, if you had any posters or paintings or empty Mountain Dew cans sitting around collecting dust.
Probably not.
His stomach growled. He had barely left his bed let alone eaten anything yet today. He peeled off his headphones and set his guitar to the side as he climbed out of the warm comfort of his bed. He opened his bedroom door quietly and padded down the short hallway into the kitchen. The linoleum floor was cold against his bare feet.
He opened the fridge door slowly, careful not to wake Wayne sleeping in the dark living room. He glanced over the milk, eggs, and sparse condiments, spying a plastic bag with leftover once-frozen pizza inside. There were two pieces left.
Eddie glanced over toward the living room, hearing Wayne softly snoring on the fold-away bed. He looked back at the bag of pizza and grabbed it before quietly shutting the fridge.
There was a pang of guilt that came over him as he crept back down the hall toward the lighted door of his bedroom. Guilt for taking the last of it. The pizza. The bedroom.
He shut the door softly and returned to the warmth of his bed, folding his legs under him as he peeled back the plastic baggie.
Cold pizza always tasted better when he was high. Everything did. The combination of the cheese and the cold red sauce, the chewiness of the crust as he bit into it. Even the little brown sausage nuggets had more flavor.
Eddie sighed as he felt the food travel down his throat and fill his empty stomach.
He thought about you again, wondered what you were doing at that moment in time. He thought about you making lunch in your kitchen. Probably a sandwich, or a salad — something healthy. You probably ate it at a table, even wiped it down after you were done. He thought about you in your quiet apartment all by yourself and wondered if you thought about him too.
He wasn’t entirely sure you returned his feelings. Not like how he felt about you anyway. He swore he could feel it though, there was something. Something about the way you sighed when he held you, how easily your body pressed to his, like it wanted to be there. It was the way you never drew away when he drew closer. The way you looked at him. The way you laughed at his jokes and watched him as he left the parking lot.
Eddie glanced at his backpack slumped over by his desk.
He picked a few crumbs off of his sweatpants and sprinkled them onto the floor, taking care that they didn’t end up in his bed.
He wondered what you would think if you walked in right now.
What sort of interest could someone like you possibly have in someone like him?
If there was one thing he was really good at, it was wasting his time.
______
It was a Monday morning and Eddie Munson was tired. Tired of the looks people gave him as they passed him in the hallway. He was tired of waking up early to come to a place that he’d outgrown. Tired of not being good enough to leave it.
He felt his eyes lose focus as he twisted the dial on his locker. It took him three tries before it opened.
He had stayed up entirely too late again. For why, he wasn’t really sure. Maybe to punish himself. He supposed waking up at noon the day before didn’t exactly set himself up for success either.
In his defense he did finally crack open his chemistry textbook at 8 PM, but he might as well have been reading Greek. He stared at at the letters and numbers and formulas until he finally just gave up and tossed it back where it came from.
He did your homework though. He read the final chapters of the book and took notes on them as assigned. There would be a test on Friday and he didn’t want to disappoint you.
He stared into the contents of his locker, at the crumpled papers already accumulating underneath the pile of textbooks that were strewn about without a home.
Suddenly there was a soft voice that came from the other side of the cold metal. “Hey Eddie.”
Eddie swung the locker door inward. Chrissy Cunningham leaned against the locker next to his, clutching textbooks against her soft white cardigan.
“Hey,” he said, giving her a hesitant look.
“So I hear you can, um,” Chrissy bit her lip in thought, glancing off to the side, “Hook people up with certain things. If you know what I mean.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows and grabbed his history textbook before shutting his locker. “Yeah, I know what you mean. What do you need?”
“Well, Tina’s having a Halloween party again this year on Saturday and I was wondering if you could, you know. Deal.”
Eddie thought for a moment. He thought about how much money he had, which was not a lot. Not enough to get the tattoo he’d been wanting for over a month now. He thought about how good it would feel to focus on the prickling sting of the needle driving into his skin for a few hours. It was hard to think about anything else when you were in the chair, and he liked that about it — like a strange meditation. He could use a break from his thoughts lately.
“Yeah, I can deal. What are we talking?”
“Just grass I guess, not trying to kill anybody,” she said with a little chuckle. “People always overdo it at these things.”
Eddie gave a single nod, “I’ve got that.”
Chrissy smiled, “Great, here’s the address,” she said, reaching on top of the books she was carrying to hand him an orange flyer.
He took the paper in his hands, looking at the little hand-drawn ghost with the date, time, and address on it. Come and get sheet faced.
“I’ll see you there then, yeah?”
Eddie looked up from the paper, creasing it in the center with his thumb before shoving it into his pocket. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Great,” she said. Her eyes glanced over him, scuffing the toe of her white shoe against the tile absentmindedly, “Looking forward to it.”
______
“Harpies don’t have ranged attacks, we’d be better off hitting them with spell damage while you tank them,” said Jeff, flicking his empty milk carton across the table at Mike.
“Their song is ranged, what are you talking about?” Mike retorted, flicking the milk carton back at him.
“That’s not an attack, dumbass,” said Jeff, chuckling.
Dustin glanced over at Mike and interjected. “The song lures you into close range so they can hit you with their talons. And they can do it from a distance, so…”
“But it’s not an attack,” said Gareth with a smirk.
Eddie sighed and swallowed his mouthful of tater tots. “It’s not an attack.”
Jeff laughed. “See?”
Mike shot Jeff a look, “Well, the spell casters aren’t going to be safe hanging back either way.”
“Guess you’ll just have to hold agro then, Pally,” Jeff said, flicking the milk carton back across the table. The older guys chuckled as the carton tumbled into Mike’s lap.
“Hey uh, by the way, I think we’re gonna have to make band practice later on Saturday,” said Gareth, “My grandma’s in town and we’re doing like… wholesome family shit, you know how it is.”
Eddie wished he could say that he did. “I can’t do it later, I’m going to a Halloween party on Saturday.”
Dustin snorted, “What are you going as?”
“Nothing. It’s, um, a business arrangement,” said Eddie with a look, hoping he would take the hint.
“The one at Tina’s?” asked Gareth, his eyes lighting up.
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“Can I come?”
Eddie paused, giving him a puzzled look, “I mean, I guess. I could probably use some help.” And some company, but he would never admit that. “Why do you wanna come so bad?”
There was a gleam in Gareth’s eye, “Cindy’s gonna be there, I saw her with one of those orange flyers in science today.”
A low oooh emanated from the table followed by a nudge from Jeff.
Eddie shot Gareth a look, “Who?”
“Cindy. You know, Cindy Wallace, from the science project?”
Eddie looked unimpressed, “Oh, the one you bailed on us for? Yeah I remember.”
“Yeah well, she’s gonna be there, so,” said Gareth, sitting back in his chair.
Eddie sighed, “Fine, you can come, just don’t make an ass of yourself or I’m leaving you there,” he said decidedly, popping another tater tot into his mouth.
“Cindy can take him home then,” laughed Jeff, nudging Gareth again.
The table erupted in laughter.
______
Eddie stared down at the chemistry homework that was now past-due as you went over the first equation for the third time. You had been at this for twenty minutes and he was comprehending absolutely none of it.
“It’s kind of like baking a cake, like all the ingredients come together to create this new thing. It’s different than math in that way,” you said gently, “Here, let’s use the equation for water as an example,” you said, scratching it out on the upper lefthand corner of the paper.
The fluorescent lights beat down on him, tiring his eyes even more than they already were. It made his skin feel hot. He hated the lighting in school. It was clinical, and oppressive, and made him want to take a nap. He blinked, watching your hand move across the paper, noting the soft dusting of chalk that still lingered on your knuckles.
“Ok, now let’s apply this same concept to the first equation here.” You scratched out the problem and walked him through solving it step by step.
He followed along, trying his best to pay attention. It was like you were saying words but his brain was not computing.
“Does that make sense?”
He sat back and looked at your handwriting, neat and pretty. None of it connected. “Um,” his eyes bored into the paper, unable to face yours. He was afraid he would look up and see frustration, or even worse — disappointment.
His face felt hot, his chest like someone had placed a weight there. The numbers and letters blurred in front of him as his voice caught in his throat.
He felt like an idiot.
He could feel your eyes glance over his face and he worked up the courage to meet them.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, digging his nail into the side of the pencil. He swallowed as he felt the heat rush to his face again, his pulse pounding in his ears. “I’m an idiot, I —” He stared down at the paper again.
He wanted to cry.
“No you’re not,” you said, your voice was warm and kind.
His nose burned as tears threatened behind his eyes and he hated himself for it. Hated himself for feeling like a child. For being unable to solve a basic problem even after all the extra help. Hated himself for still being here after six years. He didn’t know what he did to deserve your patience. He wondered when it would expire or if he was better off just dropping out. Maybe then he could ask you out like a real adult. He didn’t feel like one though. Not right now.
He felt a hand on his back.
He turned to look at you. The softness in your eyes could have melted him. Your gentle hand moved back and forth between his shoulder blades soothingly and he sighed at the touch.
“You’re really smart, Eddie. This just isn’t your thing, that’s all.”
You meant it, he could tell.
His eyes were large and wet but his tears obeyed and did not spill over his lashes. “Thanks,” he said softly. “For your patience, for your time, for … everything. I don’t know if I deserve it, but…”
Your hand stopped moving. His heart lurched. He watched as your expression changed, like you were pained all of a sudden. Your pretty mouth twitched, eyes lowering in thought.
“Please don’t say that. It’s really no trouble, I…” Your eyes darted back and forth between his, laying down words like you were hopping across a stream on small rocks, careful where you landed. “I really like… spending time with you. I…”
He leaned closer toward you, like a magnet was pulling him. “I like spending time with you too.” He could feel your breath against his cheek. His eyes lowered to your lips, so soft and so close. He wondered what it would feel like to close the gap and snatch them up in his.
Your eyes grew wider and Eddie swore he saw your face turn a deeper shade. He ached when you took your hand away.
“Let’s put this away and work on something else. I think you just need a little break.” You turned back toward your desk, bringing that same hand behind your neck as you cast your eyes downward. “Maybe we can come back to it later, or on Wednesday.”
Eddie swallowed and glanced away, turning to put his homework back in the beat up folder it came from. His face felt hot all of a sudden.
“So, uh, how was your birthday?” he asked, searching for anything to distract from the nerves twisting in his gut.
“Oh, it was uh,” you tidied your desk, “Fine. It was nice. I listened to the tapes you gave me,” you said, meeting his eyes again.
“Oh yeah?” He perked up.
“Yeah, multiple times actually,” you said, a bashfulness creeping through your smile. “I really liked them.”
“Really?”
“Yes really. I love music that’s driving, you know? Like, it takes you somewhere. It’s got this energy about it that’s really addicting, like it makes you want to move. I can see why you love it so much,” you said. Your eyes were sparkling, the redness in your face fading.
“Which one was your favorite?”
“Favorite song or album?”
“Both. I’m curious.”
You put a curved finger to your lips in thought. He loved it when you did that. “I think I liked Paranoid the best out of the two. And then song, let’s see... I think… War Pigs.”
Eddie blinked, “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a protest song, which I love. It’s the one that really made me pause and think, you know? It’s really true, what they’re talking about. How war is a game played by people who have power and the pieces are the people who don’t, who have no other choice but to be played. It’s a really powerful song. Catchy as hell too.”
Eddie propped his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek against his hand. He was tempted to bring you his entire collection if it meant that he could listen to you talk about them all the way you talked about everything — with careful perception.
You sighed softly, lowering your eyes before meeting his once more. “You know, I think more people would like it if they really listened.”
There was a tug at his heart. A loud and restless part of him stirred — awakened, acknowledged. “That’s what I’ve been saying,” he said breathlessly. “For years.”
You smiled at him in a way that made him feel something he felt so rarely. Seen.
He twisted at the rings on his fingers.
“Did um, did you do anything fun this weekend?” you asked, tidying a few papers on your desk.
“Nah, besides the usual stuff. Band practice, campaign planning,” he said, trailing off. “Homework,” he added quickly. “How was the rest of yours?”
“Oh, uneventful. Reading, errands… just boring stuff. I tried decorating for Halloween but…” you glanced off to the side and he noticed your brows furrow slightly. “I just haven’t been feeling all that festive this year. It’s weird living alone.”
Eddie nodded solemnly, shifting in his chair. “Yeah, I uh, got invited to a party this weekend but I can’t say I’m really feeling festive either.”
“Oh.” Your face dropped. It happened so quickly that he almost didn’t catch it before you corrected it. “Are you going as anything?” you asked innocently.
“Nah. I’m just… going.”
He wondered what you’d think if you knew why. You — behind the desk with chalk on your hands and worry in your eyes. You — staying later than required, with no extra pay, for him — a drug dealer.
He cast his eyes downward and thought about his father. A criminal. Only he was in jail and Eddie was free. Free to sell drugs to teenagers. They had more than a few things in common — he couldn’t manage to graduate high school either.
He kicked himself for even mentioning the party.
There was a deep worry in your eyes, deeper than you could hide. “Please be safe.”
Eddie leaned closer, “Are you ok?” he asked softly, probing you with his dark eyes.
“Um,” you lowered your eyes again, thumbing at the eraser of the pencil in your hand. “This time of year is… complicated for me.” For once you looked at a loss for words.
“What happened?” his voice was gentle.
You sighed and met his eyes. “My brother,” you started, swallowing as if your voice was caught, “My older brother, he… drove home drunk from a Halloween party. He was 17 and new at driving, and the roads were wet, and — “ you swallowed again, blinking as you stared off into nothing, “He didn’t make it home.”
The waver in your voice made his heart clench. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked at you.
You — who he watched day after day from the back of the classroom. You — who had all of the answers.
You looked so small from this side of the desk.
Your hand trembled, hovering above the mess of eraser shavings that the two of you had made together. He wanted to touch you. His hands twitched in his lap. When you found the courage to meet his gaze again, he caught the barely-there shimmer of tears threatening your lower lashes, and he couldn’t help himself.
Pulse racing, he reached across the space between and took your hand in his.
Your eyes were wide with trepidation.
“It’s ok,” he said softly.
His touch was delicate at first, timid until you squeezed back. His eyes fluttered up to yours for just a second, searching for approval before returning to your hand.
Your hand. The hand that writes back silly notes on his papers in green pen. The hand that opens his gifts wrapped in newspaper as if they were Tiffany’s boxes.
He rubbed his calloused thumb over your knuckles, wiping away the chalk. Your fingers were cold, fragile almost. Your palm so soft and warm against his. You had a paper cut on your index finger, he noticed.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, swiping the knuckle from your other hand underneath your lashes quickly.
“Don’t be, it’s ok.”
He brought his other hand around yours, his grip solid and gentle all at once. He felt you relax and his curious fingers changed positions, as if he was trying to commit the touch to memory, to feel as much of your hand as possible. What surprised him was how eager yours was to do the same.
He felt your fingers move against the back of his hand, along his tendons, his knuckles, his rings, feeling the strong bones under the soft flesh. The pulse in your wrist hammered against his, your palm starting to sweat.
The echo of footsteps clicked up the hall, coming closer. Your eyes flashed up at his and you took your hand away.
You cleared your throat, sitting up straight again as the footsteps passed the door. “Um, thank you,” you said.
“Sure. Anytime,” he said softly, scratching his head.
The two of you sat there a moment in stillness. Nothing but the ticking of the clock and the clicking of heels moving away now.
“He was really something else,” you said softly, the light in your eyes returning. “From what I remember anyway. I was in eighth grade when it happened. You know, I can’t even say you would have liked him. I mean he was…” you trailed off, lost in thought, “He was in a different crowd. But he just had this energy about him that was so… magnetic. You have that in common at least.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Magnetic?”
The look you gave him made his heart flutter. A glint he caught in your eyes, there for only a second. “Yeah.”
You thumbed at the pencil on your desk again, brows furrowed in thought. “I never really went to many parties. Not in high school, not in college either. There’s a part of me that feels like I really missed out.”
“If it’s any consolation you’re really not missing much,” he said with a little chuckle.
“I know but it’s still… an experience.”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Can’t argue with that.”
You sighed and looked at him again, the worry creeping back onto your features. “Please be careful, ok?”
“I will,” he said. “I promise.”
______
A/N: We thought Tina’s 1984 Halloween party was angsty, who’s ready for Angstfest 1985??
I also want to make a little note that I hope teacher!reader having this very specific backstory element doesn't deter anyone from the story! It was important for me as a writer to give her a reason for her behavior and relationships (specifically with her mom). It's all going to make sense, I promise! Just stick with me 💜
I want to give a special shoutout this week to the people who leave feedback (especially every single chapter!), and to the people who send me excited asks and messages. Your encouragement really keeps me going, you have no idea. (I do love all your hearts too, shy folks, please don’t get me wrong! They make me smile and I cherish you.)
I’m a small blog. I have less than 1k followers (but I’m closing in!). When I posted chapter one I had 165. This is my first big series and I’m learning a lot in the process. So if you love this story and feel comfortable sharing it, please do! I love you.
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TTD - First Meeting 1/4
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Hero stopped on the threshold of the old warehouse. They examined their surroundings, as if to check what was hiding beyond them. Of course they could see nothing. There wasn’t any light. The voice itself seemed slightly deformed with some kind of white noise – it had to be a transmission.
“Why ?” they asked politely.
“Because you won’t see another day again if you step in.”
Hero tilted their head. They grabbed their flashlight, and – what ? They squinted their eyes, but the ray of light bounced on the darkness and went back to them.
Now, that didn’t seem very normal.
“I see what you mean,” they said.
Then they shrugged and entered. A booming laugh resonated as the doors locked themselves brutally behind Hero:
“You’re mine now ! Miiiine ! You belong to the eternal night of everlasting darkness !”
“Uh. Um, okay.”
The laugh stopped and the voice sounded suddenly a bit sulking:
“That’s all ? No witty remark ? No cutting repartee ? I thought you were a Hero. I’m disappointed.”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to do my job. But I have things to say.”
“Let’s hear it, my little prey.”
“Well, there were a bunch of burglaries in this part of the town, and the managers of the stores always complained about the lights that went out no matter what they did before the act. So I’ve investigated a little and I’ve pinpointed this location.”
“How very smart of you, prisoner. You’re the only one who could find the truth and stay alive this long. No doubt you must be special.”
Embarrassed, Hero rubbed the back of their neck.
“Nah, I’m not very high-ranked, actually.”
“I’ve seen you before, though. I remember.”
Hero stroked one of their crochet twists and absentmindedly smiled:
“Yeah, the rainbow beads help, usually. It’s not because I work as hard as I can that I’m very important.”
“Why are you on my trail all by yourself, then ?”
“ As far as I know, you haven’t killed anyone. You just stole the supplies you need, I have the list... so forgive me if I’m not very much intimidated. I mean, you took a lot of Twinkies ?”
“Food’s survivor.”
“It doesn’t even last very long, actually.”
“...You must be the life of the party. Well, it doesn’t matter. I salute you for your efforts, but your time has come to an end.”
“Is that so ?”
“I control shadows, little Hero. My powers are beyond your reach.”
“Yeah, but you use them to steal Twinkies.”
“Would you stop with that ? Very well, I shall make you forget all about them. Behold my lair and despair !”
Pale blue dots weakly illuminated the huge warehouse. A large screen appeared by the ceiling, revealing a hooded figure, but Hero’s attention was somewhere else. There were forms around them that at first they took for furniture – and in a certain sense they were. One of them could certainly be viewed as a chair, if you forgot the huge spikes on the seat, just as the wooden frame in front of it had been made for people to lay down, if the manacles could be taken into account. Hero stared at all this, at the cages on the ground, at the chains on the walls, and stopped walking, their heart suddenly beating way faster. There were traces of red here and there. All of this was separated from them thanks to a glass wall.
“Have I just seen you shudder, Hero ?” simpered the voice. “Or are you still convinced that I’m not so dangerous ?”
Hero did wince. They also took a step back and a deep breath before seeking for an opening.
“I can assure you there’s no way out”, said Villain. “Unless you are strong enough to smash the doors you came from, but then you’d have already broken out by now. Or do you think I’m foolish enough to be around ? Are you so mad for revenge that you have to seek me out?”
“I’m not mad yet. I just want to check something.”
“You should be. I count my victims by the dozens and no one realized that because you heroes are that disastrous. Many disappeared, but no one cared about them. You want to make me think you do? ”
“Yes.”
Hero finally found what looked like a door. After fumbling for a moment, their hand closed on a handle and they could get to the other side. Surrounded by darkness, the torture instruments looked as sinister and impressive as their function implied. Right until the moment when Hero’s fingers brushed against a huge spike and pushed.
Their thumb went into the metal with no problem and left a mark. This time, it was Hero’s laugh that boomed in the room.
“It’s tin, isn’t it ?” they asked to the hooded figure. “Man, it’s impressive. You made me believe it for a minute. The blood is painting, right ?”
“...Maybe.”
“It’s like you’ve made a ghost train ride all by yourself. You’re an artist. I mean it.”
They rubbed their hands together to get rid of the red painting:
“But I have to catch you now.”
The voice growled in answer:
“Then come to find me, nemesis. That’s what you’ve just become.”
“Thank you. I will bring you Twinkies in prison.”
“Oh, I will end you.”
*
(Yes, it's the first time these two dorks have met. Sequel here)
Back to the These Two Dorks masterlist.
Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.
#villain and hero#hero villain community#writeblr#writers on tumblr#original fiction#my writing#writing snippet#writing drabble#writing dialogue#these two dorks#hero and villain#heroes and villains#hero x villain
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Shifter au!
Excuse me while I world build for a second. People can shift into all kinds of animals, but in modern times shifts are a little less frequently used and the animals tend to be much smaller. More people are house pets as opposed to big cats for example. More Shetland ponies than draft horses.
So that means hob, a medieval peasant, really stands out when he shifts. Because he is a gigantic bear. Once upon a time he was still pretty rare but not absurdly. Now bears his size are practically unheard of. Plus people have somehow become more prejudiced about shifts and assume it means that Hob is domineering and territorial and dangerous.
Actually hob is very sweet, loves being fucked as much as he loves fucking, and isn’t actually dangerous anymore, thanks. In his day it wasn’t like this. He could cuddle with his friends and romp around and no one expected him to act a certain way just because of his animal. Mostly he was happy because being a bear meant he could defend his friends and family, fight well and also eat lots of honey and berries and fish. But now people expect him to be a certain way when they know he is a bear and it either repels them or they are confused and angry when he doesn’t meet their expectations.
Sometimes he pretends to be a Labrador shifter just because it’s easier to get people to feel comfortable around him. but it’s hard to never be able to shift around his loved ones. Spending time in your animal form is crucial to your mental and physical health. So this form that was once his pride and joy is sort of a hindrance to him now.
By 2023, He does have a group of friends, other shifters like him who don’t quite fit the mold. Shifters who have changed their animals because they didn’t fit them anymore. Shifters with rare animals. Even a couple of people who don’t shift at all. when hob’s boyfriend comes around they’re all a little surprised. At first glance he is sort of twinky and pretty. He says his form is a house cat. His friends take one look at him and know…that’s no house cat.
Of course the king of dreams can have any form he wants. But generally he takes the form of a gigantic panther. More than capable of turning his bear into more of a teddy bear. And anyone intimidated by a bear would be surprised to see how eagerly and joyfully hob submits for dream, the true apex predator in the room.
Oh I’m having feelings about this!!! And on the subject of shifter!Hob I must take a moment to thoroughly recommend @arialerendeair ‘s amazing wolf shifter Hob fic, Call of the Wild. It absolutely altered my brain chemistry.
Anyway, back to bear!Hob. I literally love this so much. I’m imagining Hob having to go into remote rural areas to shift, and even then he really has to be on his guard and he can’t just… frolic and enjoy himself like he wants to. He loves his little group of misfit shifter friends, and when they can occasionally get away as a group for little trips into the woods it feels great. He does get very emotional though, because it reminds him of how things used to be. It hurts a lot to have to readjust himself to societal expectations and go back to pretending.
He didn’t even have a sexual partner for so long, until after Dream returned and they got together. Shifting and sex go hand in hand, and Hob was both afraid of hurting a partner with a smaller animal shift and afraid that he would be rejected. Finally getting to be with his Dream is amazing for so many reasons, but the emotional and physical outlet of getting to shift with him? Hob is thankful for that every single day.
Hob’s high ceilinged, open plan flat is a perfect space for him and Dream to shift in privacy. They can cuddle around each other, scent each other, and Dream takes great delight in pinning his beautiful hairy bear down and mounting him. And when they want to run together? There are forests and valleys in the dreaming which are entirely dedicated to Hob’s desire to shift. He can run, leap, climb, hunt, whatever he needs. Dream watches, lounging in the trees with a satisfied expression and occasionally pouncing down on Hob when he least expects it.
When Hob wakes up in bear form, curled in his nest with Dream draped on top of him, he’s reminded of the old days. But tears don’t come to his eyes anymore. He can look back and smile, because Dream has given him such a wonderful gift.
If there’s time, he’ll shift back into human form, and show Dream his very human appreciation. The only downside in being a bear is that he does feel awfully sleepy in the mornings - but he can always rouse himself for his king <3
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