#welcome to the choose your own adventure where you just get to pick whatever makes you feel better LMAO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs | Tumgik (2025)

Pretending (Pt. 2)

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Word Count: 986

Part One // Part Three

[WOSO Masterlist]

“Do you want to get married?”

You’re soaking in the sun, a welcome change from the cloudy skies of Manchester when Aitana pops the question.

You crack open an eye. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

She says it with the most serious face that you start questioning if you’re the crazy one here.

“Are you asking me what my thoughts are about marriage in general or marriage between us?”

Aitana doesn’t have to say anything, she only gives you a look.

You sigh, propping yourself up on an arm so you can face Aitana when having this conversation. “We’re not even dating.”

Aitana shrugs. “If it matters that much to you we can give it a day.”

It’s such a ridiculous proposition that you can’t do anything but laugh. “So what? We can tell our children we dated for a day before we got married?”

This time she grins, finger drifting to hook around your own. “Time doesn’t matter. We both know whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s been going on far longer than a day.”

You’ve been back in Barcelona for close to a year now. The two of you picked up right where you left off, spending almost all of your waking moments with one another. Even when night comes round, it’s rare to find you sleeping apart.

Ona calls you both codependent idiots, Ingrid calls it something sweet, all you know is that it works for the two of you and although you’re not dating, it’s a life you can find yourself getting used to.

When the break came around and Ona announced she was going somewhere tropical with Lucy, Aitana was quick to make some plans for just the two of you.

You didn’t question it much, happy to just spend time with the girl you’ve been pining after for years.

At first everything was normal. Sure, Aitana’s been a bit more sentimental than usual, opting to reminisce about your childhood adventures or bring up the unofficial first dates of yours from all those years ago. But you don’t think too much about it, choosing instead to focus on not ogling all of the skin on display as Aitana’s primary activity these past couple days have consisted of nothing but sunbathing.

It’s not like you haven’t caught Aitana eyeing you up and down a couple of times too, but it’s different between the two of you. You’re still patiently waiting for Aitana to drop the pretense that you’re anything more than just friends, hence the respect you’ve been giving (though if she continues wearing two-pieces and hanging off your arm all day every day you might have to catch an early flight home before you combust). Aitana on the other hand… well you’re not really sure what she’s doing.

Though you can probably conclude that she’s not pretending anything anymore if she’s asking for your hand in marriage.

“I love you.”

Though her words fill you with warmth, you can’t help but frown at her sudden change in demeanor. Just three days ago when you were still surrounded by your teammates in Barcelona, Aitana cracked a joke about loving you when hell froze over --- though you probably deserved that comment after you let Mapi convince you to dunk her socks in the ice bucket. Although she’s affectionate with you, she’s never this affectionate.

“Aita, what’s going on?” you sit up, taking care to scoop Aitana’s hand into yours.

The smile slips off her face as her eyes drop, fingers nervously tapping by her side.

It’s automatic, the way your free hand rises, rubbing at the furrow between her brows.

Aitana melts into your touch, face leaning forward until your hand has no choice but to cup her cheek.

“It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of,” you murmur, trying to prompt Aitana to speak her mind.

Aitana looks lost in thought for a moment. She bites at her lip before letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired waiting for me?”

You’re not able to stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips. “If that’s what you’re afraid of, you have nothing to worry about. I’m in this for the long run, even if that means waiting for you until we’re gray and old. I’m happy with what we are right now as long as you’re happy too.”

“But what if I’m ready now?”

You blink, not expecting the sureness behind her voice. There’s a slight fire in Aitana’s eyes, the midfielder looking like she’d move mountains just for you to understand how serious she is.

“I know I’ve always put football first but you have always been the one thing I’ve wanted to commit to. You’ve been so patient with me, loving me when I never gave you a reason to. You bring me up when I’m sad, give me reasons to smile when I just want to cry, you’re what I love falling asleep to every night, and seeing your face when I wake up just fills me up with joy.”

Your eyes flutter shut when she leans forward to press her head against yours. You can feel her breath running hot against your lips and it takes everything in you to not bridge the gap.

“I love the way you know me and I love the way you’re you.”

When your lips finally meet there’s no other way to describe the kiss than perfect. It’s short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.

“I love you. So much.”

Aitana’s giving you a teary grin when you open your eyes, and you can’t do anything but smile right back at her.

“So will you marry me?”

---

Ona’s eyes nearly fall out of her head when she sees the matching bands on your fingers when you stroll into the locker room a week later.

599 notes · View notes

dating sweet boy astarion core

SFW/NSFW

Astarion is one to always make sure you have the things you need to be comfortable on your travels. He even slips any extra scrolls he know will benefit you into your pack when you're not looking. And always reminds you how he admires you for making the hard choices on your journey together.

Your star learns how to appreciate a true loving touch because of you. Since then, he's grown touchy more than ever, practically craves it more than a fresh drink of blood.

When he feels safe with you, it's easier for him to be himself and that includes making skin to skin contact with you whenever he can. It's a type of security for him. To make it known how much trust he’s put into you.

Truly enjoys the moments at night before he rests his eyes, the domesticity of how calm and quiet you become when falling into a restful state.

He listens, intently. So intently that the minute you begin to open up to him he holds every detail close to his heart. everything you tell him about your past, the inbetween parts of your life leading up to where you were in that current moment with him. He feels luckier than life to be the individual you entrust with this part of you, with your love, with your life even at times. You're assured he has your back against everything the adventure throws at you. You just didn’t think one of the things thrown at you would be him.

He gets really flustered when you compliment him out of the blue. As in his cheeks turn pink and he brushes it off like nothing. But you reassure him no matter how many compliments it takes.

One thing I fully believe is that he would definitely be the type to pay close attention to what fabrics you admire in the many shops you pass through, only wishing you had enough gold to pay for something nice for yourself. Only to surprise you with a custom made outfit with precisely picked fabrics and tones for you.

Absolutely loves when you read to him in camp; not only does he love to listen to your voice, but he could just about sit there forever until you get tired.

Most definitely takes pride in watching you fight, whether that's speaking an incantation perfectly for a spell or striking a foe with your weapon, he's always one to shower you with praise afterwards.

Astarion is totally sure he's unworthy of your affection after everything he's done. You make him aware of the fact that he deserves you even so.

You first asked him if it was okay to play with his hair while you rested together after a battle. It was then you found the elf to absolutely melt under your soft touches. you're also the only person he allows to play with or touch it.

When you accidentally brushed against his ever so sensitive ears, he just about whined with a desire to chase more of the sensation from you. But in turn… you found out how riled up he could get from it and had to pick and choose when you'd take advantage of it. [more on this later tehe]

He loves to kiss your neck, but what he was surprised to learn is that he loves when his is kissed as well. Especially when you run your fingers over his adams apple. Just him learning how to accept a new form of touch that makes the hair on his skin stand tall.

He was always on the giving end of affection when he was forced to lure pretty things back for his master, but now that he's free, he learns to welcome your touches and receive them without hesitation.

When you wear rings for whatever reason, whether because you like them or for their arcane abilities, he loves to slip them off by way of his rogue skill, playing with them on his own fingers before you even notice. You usually have to give him a few kisses to get him to give them back.

Speaking of rings, once he realizes how much you mean to him, he slips away from camp and finds a jewelry shop, choosing a ring he felt would compliment your style and one he knew he'd love to see you wear for him every day. Like a reminder of the bond you two share. Once he gifts it to you, you're so enthralled that you take off one of your random ones you thought was pretty, and give it to him without hesitation. Perhaps it was one that could always locate him or give him an extra boost in battle. Either way, he would never take it off.

You like to make silly jokes about vampire myths, like ones about garlic and crucifixes to make him chuckle.

Astarion adores the little nicknames you give him, whether theyre a sweet petname or a non-serious one that you knew he liked to laugh with you at.

Always makes sure you're tucked into his body when you fall asleep next to him in camp. But when he's the one to fall asleep first, he wakes the next morning to your arms wrapped around his waist, making sure he's close to you.

Loves giving you forehead kisses. especially after battle when you run to his arms to make sure he's alright, nothing bruised, broken or cursed.

Astarion definitely has some very severe abandonment issues, so if you wander too far from him he's the first to reach out through the tadpole and ask where you've gone. When he does find you again he sticks to your side like glue, lacing your fingers together.

NSFW

Astarion would be the type to worry he wouldn't be able to hold out long enough in bed for you both to be satisfied. It's in the moment you both decide to take it slow during your first time. With you, Astarion learns how to control his body and hold out for as long as you needed him to. Because. He reaaallyyy likes you. He wouldn't want to get all worked up and expend himself before he'd even gotten the chance to touch you.

Considering Astarion's history, he would want to be dominant in the bedroom after not having control over his life and decisions for years. He takes pride in being in control and you simply let him because not only does it look good on him, but there's a certain flair in the way he smiles when you do exactly as he says.

Though after a while he finds being in charge most of the time gets him pent up in ways he can't begin to imagine. The two of you are intimate enough that he finds himself wanting you to take pleasure from him. He desires your dominating touch over him and hopes you'll agree when he asks you about it. So when you do, he's enthralled with excitement and practically itches with anticipation at first sight of dominance from you.

Astarion's ears are sensitive. It's not just the elven shape or vampiric hearing that makes them so, but he quite enjoys the way you softly touch and kiss them that it gets him riled up more than he can fathom. He once dreamt of you touching them during sex and woke up in cold sweats with a raging hard on.

Thus, he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them, either on accident while you're touching his curls or purposely.

He hasn't had someone touch him in a loving way in so long, and the first time you decide to have sex, it's an emotional and vulnerable thing for him. He may shed more than a few tears during and after, a statement that shows how his vulnerability shines through when he trusts someone enough.

Each thrust fills you with the devotion he carries in his heart, pledging himself to you over and over. When you praise as he brings you to the peak of your pleasure, it’s enough to make him moan just from that.

He tells you "i love you" when he comes, breathlessly as he ties your soul to his in an everlasting knot.

One night if you've indulged on a bottle of wine or two, he'll drink from you to quite literally get drunk off your blood. Not only does the closeness and intimacy of the act turn you on, but the way his lips suck against your neck has you grinding up against his thigh. He takes so much pride in the way your body responds to him.

The first night you touch him intimately, he's brazen with the sounds he makes since he's still trying to make sense of the fact that you want him like this… And it's because you love him that you want him to know how much you adore and see the good in him. It's something sentimental and sensual to you both at the same time.

You take your time when touching him not just because dragging it out pulls more godly sounds from him, but because you know the second he comes it's over for you. Astarion is of course going to tease and relentlessly drag your pleasure out the same way you've done for him.

On the terms of aftercare, Astarion strokes your hair and is one to ask if everything he did was alright with you. If he was rougher on you during sex, he would make sure you know he didn't mean any of the vulgar things he's said. That also goes along the lines of when he punishes you for teasing him or being reckless during battle. He's always concerned about your wellbeing and state in your afterglow. It looks exceptionally good on you when you know how much he loves and adores you.

270 notes · View notes

Isekai Chronicles START

A/N: Welcome to my new experimental fic series! This is where you should start for context.

I don’t have it in me to write the 100k slow burn fic of my dreams, so I thought I’d try something new. I’m going to write the first chapter and everything else will be non-liner, episodic story telling based on YOUR prompts! Rule will be at the bottom of the chapter!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

We begin.

Master List

August 5th.

By the time you get home from your job, it’s pretty late. Work had been busy, to the point that your break had been pushed back so far that your supervisor just told you to go home thirty minutes early. You were pretty sure that wasn’t exactly legal but you weren’t going to complain about being able to go home. Lucky for you, it was payday which gave you an excuse to grab yourself some food on the way home. As if you wanted to cook after such a long day anyway.

You fumble with your keys and make it inside, kicking off your shoes and making your way to your room where you planned on having a very relaxing evening watching mindless tv while having dinner before going to bed.

Alright fine, you were going to have the tv on but you were probably going to be staring at your phone the whole time while the tv provided some background noise.

You pulled your wallet and keys out of your purse and dropped them in the backpack next to your bed. Tomorrow you were meeting with some friends and you’d need the backpack more than your purse. You plugged in your phone and started flipping through channels on your tv to find something to not pay attention to while you ate.

Pulling YouTube up, you looked through your recommendations, seeing an eclectic mixture of D&D related content, 6 hour video essays about shows that you’d never watch, and the occasional clip compilation from different shows.

STEVE HARRINGTON BEING A SINGLE DAD FOR 6 MINUTES

You laughed to yourself, and scrolled past it to watch some random video essay.

It was 1:58 when you finally decided that you needed to go to sleep. You forced yourself out of bed to pick up your trash and take it to the kitchen. The tile was cold on your feet, far colder than it should be. Actually, for being the middle of summer, it was freezing here now. It felt like the temperature was dropping rapidly.

You made your way to the thermostat, but it read normal to you. You really hoped that you wouldn’t have to call the a/c repair guy. That wasn’t exactly something that you could afford right now. Then again, it couldn’t be worse than the power bill you’d get if it kept up the cold.

Grabbing a hoodie from the laundry, you make your way back to your room. It was too late to call anyone to fix whatever was going on with the unit, so you’d have to call first thing in the morning. Yay.

As you cross the threshold to your room, your stomach drops. When you go to set your foot down, it felt as though you missed a stair. The room spins, and for a brief moment you’re reminded of the last time you were on a roller coaster. Your head feels light and everything around you spins faster and faster until you're on your knees, trying to hold in your dinner. The chill in the air was now almost a relief as you felt yourself burning up. If you got food poisoning from that fast food place you were going to be so pissed.

Just breathe. Just relax. It'll be okay.

You don’t even realize that your eyes are closed until you open them. It was dark in your room now and quiet. Too quiet. Had the power gone out? The tv was off, as well as the lamp that you had next to your bed. You stood up with shaky legs, the nausea slowly subsiding. You picked up your phone to check and see if there were any blackouts in the area, but your phone didn’t light up when you pressed the home button. You frown and try holding it down for 10 seconds to try and hard-start it, but nothing. It remained off, reflecting your worried face on the black screen.

That’s when you noticed the vines.

Creeping along the edge of your desk, snaking their way around the bedroom were long vines that tangled around your room. For a moment you were completely frozen, only your eyes daring to move along the strange plants. What the hell was happening?

As a child, you were prone to nightmares and sleep paralysis, and you were holding your breath, hoping desperately that this was the same as when you were so small. You had learned how to snap yourself out of it most times, and you focused all of your energy into clenching your hand into a fist over and over and over again. If this was sleep paralysis, this would have alerted your body enough to snap out of the dream state and wake up. Nothing happened.

You back up towards the window, convincing yourself that this was a bad dream. You'd fallen asleep and now you were having some sort of lucid nightmare. Alright, if this was a dream, you'd have to follow dream logic.

You grabbed your backpack, an old beat up thing that hadn't held school books in years. Now it was where you kept your role playing books for your weekly meetings with your friends. There was no reason to grab it other than this was a dream, and things don't make sense in dreams anyway.

Lucid dreams could be fun when they weren’t terrifying. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d had a dream where you were fully aware that you were in a dream. Though even in those dreams you weren’t fully there. There was a foggy feeling in your brain and in your limbs, that had to mean this was a dream. You wished briefly that there was someone here with you to share this with, some dream person to bounce ideas off of.

It was the loneliness of this dream-scape that made everything feel wrong.

You make your way out of the room again, it was just as dark and quiet in the rest of your home as well. Everything was covered in these weird vines, and you shuddered. You could see your breath now, and you rubbed your arms to get some sort of friction and heat. You make your way to your front door, reaching for the knob-

BANG

The door shook with the force of whatever was on the other side. You screamed and backed away, stumbling backwards over a vine that now wrapped around your ankle. It tightened around you, and you thrashed trying to get it off.

There was another BANG on the door, louder and harder. A piercing sound echoed through your home. Whatever was out there was strong, and loud, and did not sound human. You needed to wake up NOW.

There was a pair of scissors on the table behind you. If you could just grab them then you could cut this stupid vine off of you. Another vine shot out, grabbing your leg this time and you thrashed harder, reaching for the leg of the table and gripping it for dear life. You shook the table as more vines started for you, until the scissors fell next to you.

With a desperate amount of force you stabbed through a vine. Of course these were the shitty scissors, ones that you had been meaning to replace for weeks now. Your arm was sore as you hacked at the vines, the slamming of the door getting harder and closer to breaking through.

One good kick later and you were scrambling back towards your room, needing to find an out. You slammed the door behind you and locked it, as the sound of your front door broke open. Panic flooded your veins, any lucidity from this dream vanished in an instant and all you cared about was getting away from whatever the fuck was now inside your home.

You rushed to the window, which opened surprisingly easily. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you looked down. The fall didn’t look like it would kill you, but it did look like it could hurt like hell. But it was better to be able to get away limping than dying by a spooky vine monster. One good jump should lurch your brain awake enough to sit up and shake off whatever the hell this was. You looked down at the ground, adjusting the backpack and taking a deep breath.

Maybe you'd actually be able to fly if you were lucky. You never were that lucky though. In dreams, the best you could ever do was doggy paddle through the air for a few seconds.

You pushed yourself forward and found yourself tumbling to the ground. Your stomach lurched again, dropping as you fell forward. You tried to aim for the bushes to break your fall, but they never came. That feeling of being upside down washed over you again, and you fell with a hard thud on... concrete?

You groaned and sat up, the world had changed again to... you assumed normal? No, you had to still be dreaming as you found yourself in the middle of a street. It was dark, save for the lamp posts lighting the street. You took a few deep breaths, your head was still spinning and your stomach was protesting hard at what just happened. You took a few deep gasping breaths, begging yourself to not puke everywhere. You felt clammy, shaky, and now warm again. It was warm again.

There was an ache in your shoulder where you had landed on a hard concrete sidewalk. The backpack didn't help, and you slid it onto just one side of your body. You close your eyes and stretch it out. At least it didn't feel broken. That was a good sign.

"Holy shit." there was a voice from behind you, and you swung around to see two boys there.

One was... awkward looking. All gangly limbs and skinny with shaggy dark hair. He didn't look older than fourteen, in that awkward height where he wasn't quite taller than you but gave the impression he was just one growth spurt away from shooting up like a beanstalk- or maybe he was already in the middle of it?

The second boy looked more proportional. He was shorter than his presumed friend with curly hair and slightly darker skin. They were both looking at you like you were a fucking alien or something.

You might as well have been, considering that they had just seen you fall out of the sky, from a portal that absolutely had no business opening and shutting as quickly as it did. A portal, you'd come to realize, they knew about all too well.

You look at them, and they stare at you slack jawed.

"Shit." the shorter one says.

"Yeah. Shit." Agrees his friend.

"...Shit?" you echo back to them and that seems to snap them out of their trance as they start towards you.

"Did you just come from the Upside Down?" demands the taller one as they approach you.

"The what?" You stare blankly at them.

"The place with the vines everywhere!" the shorter one explains. "Looks like this place but darker and worse off? Crawling with demodogs possibly? Particles in the air?"

Particles? Had there been particles? You couldn’t remember, but you did know the vines. You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of the fog of whatever this dream had turned into. Had you snapped your brain out of one dream to be pulled back into another? It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened either. Everything just felt so cloudy still in your mind.

You made a move to stand up, but your legs refused. Looking down you could see the indents of where the vines had dug into your skin. This was all too confusing. Who were these kids and how the hell did they know about your nightmare? And where even were you??

"How di-" you froze as the two boys stepped into the spotlight of the nearest lamp post.

There's a funny feeling that happens when you're in a dream. Things make sense, except they don't. You blindly accept things that aren't possible. You could swear you have physical sensation, but everything feels the same. A 'clear fog' would be the best way to describe it, if you had to put it into words. Reality and fiction, a world of your own making based on the world you lived in. Nothing is real, but everything was real somewhere else. You can be in five places at once because your mind pulls the fabric of your memories together to form a seamless transition of all of the space and time you've ever inhabited.

When Dustin Henderson steps into the light, that feeling snaps and you're awake. Any traces of sleep and dream disappear and you had the same feeling you would get after waking up from a nightmare. Your heart starts racing in overtime, you feel clammy all over. Your shoulder hurts, and your mind feels sharp and panicked.

You squeeze your hand into a fist, digging your nails into your palm and feeling the sharp pain in your skin. Real. You are awake now.

Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson were standing right in front of you. You knew their names and faces- you'd watch them grow up over the years but now they were in front of you.

You were awake but they were standing in front of you, existing.

You hadn't even thought about Stranger Things since the season finale last summer.

"Hello?" Dustin waved his hand in front of you. "Come on, dude. We're not the bad guys!"

As if two high-schoolers could be. Then again, you had been in high school once.

"The Upside Down." you said. You could feel the slight vibration of your throat as you forced the words out of you. Your tongue moved in your mouth, saying each syllable carefully. Real. Your words were real. "Holy shit. Where the fuck am I?!"

Your question caught them both a little off guard. This time it was Mike (Mike!) who spoke up. "You're in Hawkins, Indiana. Did you come from a lab too?"

A lab? That was laughable. You have never been anywhere near Indiana before let alone a lab, unless you counted science classes.

"I... am absolutely not from around here." you said. "I have no idea where I am-"

"Hawkins," repeated Mike, missing the point.

"-Or how I got here."

"Portal from the Upside Down?" offered Dustin.

You dropped your backpack now. It felt too heavy, and your shoulder was still sore from the impact.

"Do you know what your name is?" Mike asked.

That was an easy question. You were able to at least give them your name.

While you were spiraling and trying to decide on what to do next, Dustin walked over to your bag, which had spilled on the ground. Well, spilling was a generous word. You hadn't zipped it up properly as the zipper had a bad habit of getting stuck so when you dropped it, the books inside had slid out partially.

"Player's Handbook?" Dustin asked, picking it up. "This isn't what this is supposed to look like"

"Fifth edition." the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Fifth edition, fuck they were no where near that in ninetheen-eighty-something. Were they on the second edition? Second edition came out in 1989- shit.

Mike grabbed your backpack before you could stop him. These teens were awfully grabby for having just seen you appear out of thin air.

"Dude" you said as they pulled out your heavy D&D books, looking at them in awe. The hardcover books rarely left your bag as you had your own table to play with every week. Well, every other week. Sometimes, maybe once a month? Scheduling was hard with a group.

Would your friends even notice you were gone? Could they notice you were gone?

Mike was thumbing through the Dungeon Masters guide, with wide eyes. "Where did you even get something like this?"

Well, you might as well rip off the bandaid.

"Hey, what year is it?" you ask, ignoring his question.

The two boys look up at you, then each other, and then at you again. There was a silent conversation happening between the two of them.

"It's August 5th, 1985" Dustin said.

"Right. Cool." you sat your ass on the concrete, suddenly feeling dizzy.

The two boys stepped away, talking to each other in harsh whispers that you could still hear.

"We need to bring them to El."

"El can't do anything, she's- she still doesn't have her powers back!"

"They fell from a portal from the Upside Down and don't know what year it is!"

"El's leaving in a week to move to California-"

"So?! We've saved the world in less time than that!"

"We don't even know if the world needs saving right now-"

"That was a PORTAL that opened and closed on its own from the Upside Down! You think that's NOT a sign of something happening?"

The two boys continued bickering as your mind raced. 1985, meaning it was somewhere between seasons 3 and 4. Early August, so no Hellfire Club, El's still here for at least a little bit- there's no mall. Not that you have any money anyway. You rack your brain, it had been so damn long since you watched the show and now you're here?

"You know I can hear you both, right? Like, you're not even trying to be quiet." You call out.

Mike and Dustin stop their discussion and turn back to you. "You're coming with us," Dustin said. "We need to know everything that happened and how you got here."

"Do I at least get to know your names?" you already knew their names, but they hadn't supplied them to you.

Introductions were shared and books were put back. You struggled to zip up your bag, knowing that it'd be a worse struggle to get them out later.

"We're going to Mike's house." Dustin explained. "We can hide you in the basement for now."

"You two are being weirdly okay with putting up a complete stranger that just appeared out of nowhere." you said.

"This happens a lot." Mike said. You laughed, yeah, you suppose for them it did.

"So, what year are YOU from?" Dustin asked.

You walked forward with the boys, feeling each heavy step as you navigate through the suburban neighborhood. At night, in the street like this, it didn't look too different from a neighborhood in your own time. The only difference being the site of a tube tv glowing through the window of one of the houses. If you ignored that, you could pretend that you were back home in-

"2023."

--------

RULES

-I’m not writing in a liner way, but I’m not ready to write any romance between Reader and Eddie. This is a slow burn after all! Current timeline I’m wanting to write is between August-December 1985. We will get to ‘86 later

-You can suggest reader do anything, there is no guarantee that I will pick your prompt!

-I already have the meeting planned between Eddie and Reader, that is off the table. Anything else is up for suggestion!

-Prompts must be submitted through ask, as “READER => Do something” If you know, you know.

-Reader is a weirdo, a freak, and is not shy or popular. Reader probably has really bad ADHD.

-If I need to add more rules I will, if I change rules that’s allowed because it’s my fic.

-This fic is officially named “That Time I was Transported into a Netflix Show And Joined A D&D Club” but I’ll be tagging it as “Isekai Chronicles” for simplicity

-Monkey’s paw author.

-Make it fun, everyone <3

Tumblr User ==> Leave a Prompt

Recommended Next Chapter: Reader ==>Meet the Party

94 notes · View notes

WELCOME TO NEW ORLEANS!

To everyone who chose to join us on this mini getaway… welcome! We're so glad that you've made the trip. The Benefactor has been kind enough to provide everyone with a stipend for travel and lodging, which means you are free to stay wherever you would like, and with whoever you would like. Whether that means you are choosing to stay in an AirBNB, to pick out a luxury hotel, or just want to take it easy in something cheap and affordable, take your pick!

While the majority of the time spent in New Orleans can be done doing… well, whatever you want to do, there are some fun things we recommend getting involved in, happening with your very own Merrockites:

February 11 -- SUPER BOWL PARTY : will be held at Manning's, and everyone is invited to come out and cheer on your favorite team! Free drinks and food for the night on the Benefactor.

February 13 -- MARDI GRAS : gather with your fellow Merrockites to enjoy and celebrate Mardi Gras like a true New Orleans baby, down on the square!

February 14 -- VALENTINE'S DAY : a romantic dinner has been set up at Cafe Degas for all couples, and a private VIP lounge rented out at Masquerade Night Club for singles to party!

February 17 -- RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS DAY : on our last day in New Orleans, everyone is encouraged to go out and do one kind thing for someone else, whether it's holding a door or complimenting an outfit.

Under the cut, you will find some information about restaurants, lodging, things to do in and around New Orleans, and some important OOC informations, so read on!

TRIP ATTENDANCE.

As we stated on the invite, attendance is not mandatory during the trip, if you don't feel it is something your character would be interested in, or you have other plans. We tried to announce plenty early (almost a full month!), to give you a little bit of leeway to start plotting, or move things around. If you are attending the trip, great! Thank you so much. You are welcome to stay wherever you want to stay, and do whatever you want to do, and get involved in whatever you want to get involved with! We do ask that everyone please stay in New Orleans, though! That's the whole point.

Kids are absolutely welcome to come along -- while we are going primarily to celebrate Mardi Gras, your character doesn't have to get involved in heavy drinking and bead throwing at all -- they are very welcome to just hang out, doing family-friendly things (of which there are a lot -- even at Mardi Gras!). We do ask that pets not make the trip, however. Just to make life easy!

Should you choose not to have character(s) attend, please know that you are still expected to be active during the time period! It's okay to keep older threads going, or maybe plot with anyone else who decided to stay behind. I am also very sure that people who are not attending the trip would still be willing to write threads with you that take place after.

IMPORTANT LINKS.

restaurants in new orleans.

cafes in new orleans.

bars in new orleans.

clubs in new orleans.

family-friendly things to do.

25 kid-friendly things to do.

museums in new orleans.

13 must-see museums.

parks and parkways in new orleans.

nature & parks in new orleans.

outdoor activities in new orleans.

adventurous outdoor activities.

shopping in new orleans.

visiting new orleans in february.

23 best things to do in new orleans.

If you need advice on where your character can stay, first see if anyone is looking for a roommate/housemate! But if you want to pick your own place, try googling things like "new orleans hotel" or "new orleans rental home."

EVENTS ON THE TRIP.

All of the events listed above can be written anytime during the trip, that means if you want to start a thread of your character doing something kind on the 12th, feel free! We wanted to give everyone lots of freedom to write what they wanted, when they wanted. None of the events are mandatory: they are simply things that would have been little one-day mini events in town, and now take place elsewhere! If you choose to do an open starter during them, please just specify that they take place on that date!

PLOTTING & FUN.

Rather than doing a roulette for this event, we have done a simple plot call post! (A roulette would be kinda tricky with so many things going on at once.) If you are open for threads, just simply comment on that post, and let people come chat with you about ideas. However, please don't just comment and expect others to come to you -- we want everyone to be as involved as possible, and to be as inclusive as possible, as well!

OOC & IC DURATION.

The plane will be landing midday in New Orleans on Sunday, February 11th; which means plenty of time for you to get to your lodging and get settled before the Super Bowl, should you choose to attend. Characters have from the 11th until the evening of the 17th to enjoy New Orleans. The plane will be departing late in the evening on the 17th, returning early in the morning on the 18th of February.

However, the 'ooc duration' of the event is February 9th through February 19th, giving everyone a couple of extra days to start and enjoy threads! During this time, you can post open threads or closed threads, social media posts, outfits for various events, whatever you would like. Threads do not need to be dropped after the 19th! You can continue anything that was previously started, and carry it on as long as you would like.

HAVE A BLAST.

It's been a while since we've done a trip in town, and while this one is scaled back a bit from the ones we have done in the past, we think that giving you the freedom to have fun your own way, while taking some major stress off of our backs, is the right way to go. Participation and activity will determine if we try this again later in the year, so if you have fun, let us know! And thanks for getting involved. xx

9 notes · View notes

favorite fragments from this one since i’m going on a playoffs related article binge so i can feel vindication when the numbers crunchers who don’t believe in LEON DRAISAITL eventually predict something wrong

also this one from the sheldon keefe article:

i think his dedication to kayfabe and making people miserable bewitch me. like whoregate aside i think the writing was on the wall regarding his uh progressiveness... or lack of... and oomf also said something that i do agree with, (for me because this is not like all other rpf where for example the kpop idols have a moral obligation to be role models and personable and likeable so they can build on this relationship and make $$$ which isn't to say that the same can’t happen but again), What was said is that:

if you’re surprised it’s your own fault LOL and also my biggest grief with mt19/2919/**** bandwagoners like what are you guys seeing?! how did he end up as fictional queer gay baby when he’s just a local country club douchebag?!?! which is also my problem w people who enjoy zegras in a straight-forward manner.

whatever. my point being: i do think he has said worse LMAO and i don’t have the gene for enjoying ““““““““““““big dick energy”“““““““““““““ but i can rationalize this for myself as. what else would you expect from a hockey player?! and you can expect better i just don’t understand what about matthew tkachuk provokes 100k gaypeople fic where he’s gay angsting about LEON DRAISAITL treating him bad... whatever!

Matthew Tkachuk talks. Matthew Tkachuk produces. Matthew Tkachuk either earns the spotlight or demands it, and following Florida’s Game 5 win in Boston, he’d done both.

well it’s so. i’ll get to it soon but it’s so LOL you know how there’s this whole uprising of 4th liner goons need to learn how to control the puck too bec just fighting won’t go far in the nhl etc which is like the tkachuk thesis beaten to death but there’s something interesting about this guy who’s getting better and better every year acting like he’s been a veteran from day 1, like he’s old school and gritty to run through a wall for the W etc. and it’s just this sheltered hockey legacy? like what even. i think calgary did wonders for his accountability and what-not but you can’t convince me this gated community dude is as thugish as he wants to seem. granted he’s bashed for turtling so

and Tkachuk — in Year 1 with his hand-picked franchise, doing exactly what the Panthers bet he’d do — has led the way. He isn’t just a great player; he’s an anti-hero. And in a league that couldn’t identify a compelling narrative with two hands and a map, he’s a welcome gift.

i do get what they’re trying to do i’m just not sure if that’s what EYE would do. it isnt like COMPELLING NARRATIVES are a dime a dozen let’s be honest here!!!!!!!!!!! and if anything is MATTY TKACHUK the most compelling one you can find?! like really... like the dirty is handmade and that dawg was surgically implanted. in-vitro.

it is fascinating to see like the one-man army underdog angle. mostly because it’s untrue but it pisses people off so a win in my books.

That’s the quantifiable stuff. If you care about the other end of the game — grit, grime, human drama — Tkachuk has leveled up, too. He started his work ahead of Game 1. Was he clowning the media? The Bruins? His own teammates? Choose your own adventure.

“I don’t even know if ‘underdog’ is a right phrase for us right now, going against that talent and everything they’ve done this year over there,” he said. “We have our hands full. We got to play very, very, very well — if not perfect — to win a game (in this series),” he said.

i hate the lady gaga 100 people in a room 99 don’t believe in you speeches but i love the SAYING THE THING THAT UPSETS THE LARGEST AMOUNT OF PEOPLE discursive strategy. he has such a brain for media duties like my dude....... do not be fake coy in front of me! he was very confident they were gonna do it bc might as well but @ interviews he would just be like We’re trying so hard... Every guy in this room believes in us and i’m not sure if there’s anyone else believing.... We only have eachother.... <- i mean. congrats on keeping the straight face.

Before the game was over, he’d goaded Linus Ullmark into trying to take a poke at him. Ullmark, of course, is a goalie. He got tossed for his trouble. Tkachuk came out of it $5,000 poorer ... Two days later, he was scoring an overtime winner, taking advantage of a brutal puck-handling error by Ullmark and prompting a Hall of Fame postgame press conference by coach Paul Maurice: “That guy is a — and then you put a long string of profanity — gamer,” Maurice told reporters. “Is he not a gamer?”

[...] Ullmark, anecdotal or not, hasn’t been the same.

fine.......... im buying it what else.

also CRASY LEVELS OF GOALIEKILLING TT-TT it makes me feel so bad for ullmark like imagine letting mt19 get under your skin so bad it just ends up as this shitshow. when it was korpisalo i had a laugh tho so + they call it “his Game 4 trollfest” ????

i am not immune to being interested in matthew tkachuk. i am however immune to m*ttdrai because it pisses me off sooooooooo much and i think if we could isolate the two of them away from each other everyone would have so much fun...

like not to GATEKEEP and POLICE but there’s an angle in this story that DOES compel me. and it is that they’ve been pushing for this guy ever since he got out of alberta and it’s been facilitated by USNTDP + legacy background ofc but also he’s been trying too hard to make it happen. like MVP at the all-star game? so i’m not saying you have to be skeptical of his SINCERENESS but it’s so funny when people buy into it completely LOL people have to start appreciating fakeness and facetiousness more. it’s not a bad thing or a moral failing he’s doing his job as an entertainer and i’m only giving him his laurels... to end i do not think he’s sick in the head insane like most GREATEST PLAYERS OF THE WORLD he’s just a sagittarius eldest brother.

so funny. nightmare polycule [shoves connor between them so i can tolerate the pairing a bit more and also so filthy 2919ers can’t crop him out]

19 notes · View notes

Welcome back to Sorcerer's Glade, a choose-your-own-adventure story using Tumblr polls!

In this story, whatever option the most people vote for determines the direction of the plot! I'll try to update weekly as the results roll in. The poll for this week will be on a separate post, which will be linked at the end of this entry. Have fun!

RECAP AND RESULTS

It's the beginning of summer vacation, and you want to go with your friends to the carnival hosted by your high school. However, your best friend Emma has other plans in mind- she wants to explore Sorcerer's Glade, an abandoned theme park said to be haunted by the ghost of a young girl who died on one of the roller coasters. You have your doubts, but Emma is going with your other two friends Justin and Opal, and you don't want to be left out. While you pack to go exploring, you find your backpack only has room for one more object- a flashlight or a pocket knife. After careful consideration, you choose....

the knife!

You pick up the knife, noticing how it glints in the light from your window; you've never used it before. You shove it into your backpack, which you just barely manage to zip closed before heading out the door.

You make your way to Emma's driveway, where she's waiting for you, along with your friends Justin and Opal.

"Took you long enough," Emma says. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah- well, if everyone else is, of course..." you stammer. As much as you want to be included on an adventure with your friends, you still have your doubts about sneaking into an abandoned theme park.

"You don't really believe in Rebecca, do you?" Justin asks.

Before you can answer, Opal cuts in. "I believe in Rebecca more than I believe in myself," they tease, causing them and Justin to share a laugh. "Besides, even if she is real, I don't think she'd be that scary. I mean, she's just a kid, right?"

"You'd be surprised," Emma responds, her voice dead serious. "The ghosts of children can be extremely temperamental. Picture your three-year-old brother, but with supernatural powers and decades of vengeance in his soul."

"And you want to see her why, exactly?" Opal asks.

Emma shrugs, grinning. "Oh, just because. We won't do anything stupid or anything; just show up and explore a bit." She opens her car door. "Come on; let's go. We need to be back before it gets dark."

You all pile into her car, easily recognizable by the bobblehead alien on the dash and the Honk if you'd fuck Mothman bumper sticker her parents have given up trying to scrape off. You're sitting in the front with Emma, while Justin and Opal sit into the back. As Emma turns the ignition, the radio blasts a synthy 80s rock song, and soon, you all are singing along at the top of your lungs as the car pulls out of the driveway and onto the road.

On the way, Emma eventually turns down the radio, and you and your friends discuss plans for the summer, the classes you're planning to take, gossip about your classmates and teachers. And yet soon enough, the conversation fizzles as the ride stretches on. You pass the time by looking out the window, observing stretches of trees on either side of the road that appear to go on for miles. An uneasy mix of anticipation and dread swirls in your stomach; you've never done anything like this before. But, you resolve, you don't regret your decision, and besides, you're having fun.

Eventually, the car stops at what seems to be a dead end.

"My GPS says this is it," Emma says. "Let's go."

From here, all you can see is a mass of forest, not unlike what you've been driving past this whole time. Still, you get out of the car with the rest of your friends. Upon closer inspection, you can see a path cut into the undergrowth- likely left by previous urban explorers on their way to the park. It's reassuring to know, at least, that someone has been here recently, although you haven't seen anyone else around for hours.

Emma leads the way onto the path, with you following close behind. You're glad to have your knife, as you use it to cut stray vines and branches out of your way. It's not terribly strong, but it does make the trek a little more convenient.

"Look at you," Emma smiles. You feel a spark of pride; after all, unless you're some weird cryptid, it takes a lot to impress her. A noise behind you makes you jump, but it's only Justin kicking an empty water bottle out of his way. The path appears littered with garbage, and you wonder if you could run into anyone in the park; would it be scarier for you and your friends to be alone there or not?

"Guys," Opal gasps, pointing. You follow their finger to see a rusted statue of a knight, appearing to jut straight out of the ground like a broken bone. In one hand, it holds a sword, and in the other, it brandishes a sign, now covered in graffiti and bird droppings. However, you can make out:

W LC M E T S R CE ER'S GL D E.

You take a picture of it with your phone before continuing on. As you head deeper down the path, cobblestones begin to gradually appear under your feet, rough and uneven. Among tree trunks are tall posts, presumably for light fixtures. Kiosks dot the ground, appearing to have been reclaimed by nature. You find yourself standing in the middle of a large clearing, in what used to be a place where people once streamed about in busy crowds. You can almost smell buttered popcorn in the air- or is that just your imagination?

You wander about, before you come to a crumbling stone staircase halfway underground, leading off into the darkness. Above it is a sign reading ENCHANTED LAKE.

"Check this out," you say, calling your friends over. You all seem to hold a collective breath.

"Dare you to go," Emma says.

"Or we could just not," Opal interjects. "It's probably not safe down there- and not because of ghosts or anything. If it collapses or something while we're in there, we're screwed."

"I guess you're right," Emma sighs, staring down at the staircase. You can't help but look at it too, wondering where it could lead. "There's probably lots to see above ground, anyway. Might as well do that instead." Opal exhales with relief.

"How about that roller coaster?" Justin suggests. "The one the video was taken by?"

"Dragon's Peak!" Emma gasps. "Good idea. It's probably just over... there!"

In the distance, you can see the silhouette of a looming serpentine form, half-hidden by trees and fog. You feel a chill run down your spine; the coaster seems as if it could be a real dragon. Emma immediately takes off in the direction of the coaster, followed by Justin and Opal. You start to go with them, but behind you, from the staircase to the Enchanted Lake, you hear... a laugh.

Do you go with your friends to the roller coaster, or do you investigate the Enchanted Lake?

Click the Link to vote!

3 notes · View notes

Pop Balloons and Have Fun with Balloon Pop at Playhop!

Welcome to Playhop, the ultimate destination for gamers who love to have fun, challenge their skills, and enjoy a variety of exciting games! If you're looking for a game that's both fun and addictive, look no further than our Balloon Pop game!

In this fast-paced and colorful game, you’ll pop as many balloons as you can within a limited time. Simple, right?

But as the game progresses, it gets trickier, and the challenge grows! Get ready to test your reflexes and see how many balloons you can pop in a row.

Why You’ll Love Balloon Pop at Playhop

Balloon Pop is a classic game that’s both easy to play and hard to put down. Here’s what makes it so exciting:

Fun and Addictive Gameplay: The more balloons you pop, the faster the game gets! It’s a thrilling race against the clock to see how many you can pop before time runs out.

Colorful and Engaging: With vibrant balloons and playful sound effects, Balloon Pop is a visually appealing game that’s sure to keep you entertained.

Simple Controls: Tap or click to pop the balloons—easy to learn but challenging to master as the difficulty increases.

Compete for High Scores: Try to beat your own record or challenge your friends to see who can pop the most balloons in the shortest time. Can you become the Balloon Pop champion?

Whether you're playing for a few minutes or a few hours, Balloon Pop will provide hours of fun!

Explore a Wide Variety of Games at Playhop

While Balloon Pop is one of the most exciting games on Playhop, it’s just one of many! Our site offers a huge selection of games, catering to every type of gamer. Here are some other great games you can enjoy on Playhop:

Multiplayer Games: Challenge your friends or compete against players from around the world in real-time games.

Puzzle Games: Exercise your brain with fun and challenging puzzles that test your logic and problem-solving skills.

Action and Adventure: Jump into thrilling action games where you can embark on epic quests and face intense challenges.

Sports & Racing: Whether you’re racing cars, playing soccer, or competing in other sports, our sports games offer exciting challenges.

Arcade Classics: Enjoy quick and casual gaming experiences with our collection of arcade games that are perfect for all ages.

Whatever your gaming preferences are, Playhop has something to offer for every type of gamer!

Why Playhop is the Best Gaming Platform

At Playhop, we strive to offer the best gaming experience for players of all ages. Here’s why so many gamers choose Playhop as their go-to gaming site:

Free to Play: All of our games are free, so you can dive right into the fun without any hassles.

Variety of Games: From casual arcade games like Balloon Pop to intense multiplayer games, there’s something for everyone.

Easy to Play: No downloads or installations required—just visit our site, pick a game, and start playing instantly.

Multiplayer Fun: Enjoy multiplayer options where you can connect and compete with friends or players from all over the world.

Regular Updates: We constantly update our game library with fresh and exciting new titles to keep the fun going!

Join the Fun on Playhop Today!

Are you ready to pop some balloons and dive into hours of fun? Head over to Playhop today and start playing Balloon Pop, along with many other exciting games! With so many games to choose from, you’ll never run out of fun challenges to tackle.

Visit Playhop now and experience the ultimate gaming adventure!

0 notes

Exactly how to Choose the Right Towing Solution for Your Demands

When you find your own self in a kerbside emergency, the last factor you wish to stress over is actually whether the towing company you've picked is actually the best fit for your demands. To see to it you pick the most effective towing service, comply with these key measures to ensure a stress-free and also trustworthy adventure.

Investigation as well as Reputation

Begin through looking into hauling companies in your region. Reviewing online reviews and requesting for suggestions from loved ones could be vital. Search for a company with a favorable credibility for stability, speed, and professionalism and reliability.

Licensing as well as Insurance coverage

Ensure that the truck towing service near me is licensed and covered. This promises that the company observes nearby rules as well as has the required protection in the event that of any sort of harm in the course of the towing process. Do not think twice to request for verification of insurance coverage and also licensing.

Stable of Companies

Various towing business deliver numerous solutions. Some focus on long-distance towing, while others concentrate on local area tows. Decide on a solution that aligns along with your details necessities, whether it is actually a short-distance tow, a jump-start, and even help along with a blowout.

Action Opportunity

Quick action times are crucial when you're stranded behind the street. Ask about the average reaction opportunity of the towing company, and select one that can easily achieve you promptly, especially during unexpected emergencies.

24/7 Supply

Kerbside emergency situations can easily occur any time. Guarantee the heavy duty towing Santa Clara company you pick offers 24/7 availability, featuring weekends and vacations. You desire to be actually specific they're certainly there when you need them, day or evening.

Expenses as well as Openness

Request a very clear breakdown of the towing costs. Trusted companies will definitely supply a price quote before the tow starts. Beware of hidden fees as well as make sure that whatever is actually clear.

Equipment and also Towing Capability

The form of vehicle you require to become dragged need to match the pulling business's devices as well as capability. Validate that the hauling company has the important tools as well as competence to handle your particular auto safely and securely.

Location as well as Insurance coverage

Verify that the pulling firm deals with the region where you are actually stranded. Some firms might have constraints on the proximity they want to take a trip, so opt for one that can reach your area without concerns.

Client service

Outstanding consumer service is actually a must. Contact the truck towing service near me before you start to evaluate their communication and determination to support. Welcoming as well as specialist workers can create the knowledge a lot less difficult.

Recommendations and also Referrals

Do not hold back to talk to the towing solution for referrals coming from previous consumers. Speaking along with people who have actually used their services may supply valuable understandings into their integrity as well as professionalism and reliability.

Legal Arrangement

Just before the tow starts, evaluation and also recognize the relations to the contractual agreement. Guarantee you are pleasant along with the phrases, consisting of settlement strategies as well as any type of prospective surcharges.

Unexpected emergency Call

See to it you have the hauling company's get in touch with relevant information quickly available in the event of emergency situations. Save their number in your phone and maintain an imprinted copy in your auto.

Routine Routine maintenance

Regularly keep your vehicle to lower the chance of needing a towing Santa Clara CA service. Check your tires, brakes, and also engine to guarantee your auto remains in really good working shape.

In recap, deciding on the best truck towing solution is important for a hassle-free roadside help experience. Focus on investigating and also track record, ensure they are accredited and also insured, consider their series of services, as well as evaluate their action time and also schedule. Openness relating to costs and properly maintained tools are actually similarly significant. Don't fail to remember to check their coverage location as well as the top quality of their customer solution. Ultimately, taking these steps will definitely assist you produce an educated selection when selecting a towing solution that meets your details requirements as well as guarantees your safety and security when traveling.

Santa Clara Towing

1361 calabazas court #2 Santa clara, CA 95051

669-228-5951

Towing Service: https://g.co/kgs/pbVTp3

0 notes

DAY SEVEN: WESTERN Rating: T for suggestive themes. Words: 5,271

WHUMPTOBER CROSSOVER—No. 5: FAILED ESCAPE

There isn’t much he can do behind his bar. Even with the shotgun he always keeps in arms reach, it never appears to make a difference to the monsters that slink through the shadows, snatching up men and women from their beds as often as they go missing from the streets,

It isn’t until a tiny girl appears, telling him that they need to run (away, together, quickly, now) that he realizes a gang of criminals or a pack of wild animals is the least of his worries.

ANOTHER NIGHT

There is no safety here.

It’s a hard fact—an unforgiving truth—that the townspeople have come to acknowledge over the past several months.

It started off with a group of missing kids. Boys that strayed too far to the edge of town. The last anyone saw of them they were chasing down a stray cat, tossing rocks at the animal as they laughed and ran towards the acres of nothing that surrounded their little municipality, miles of dry earth separating them from the next closest town.

Days later the cat returned, but the boys never did. A search party had been conducted, and all seven men had vanished, too.

At first, leaving town had been advised against. There was something out there, the sheriff explained to Jasper, sitting across from him at his bar as he poured the tired, old man a drink. Something was out there, taking anyone who walked too far off into the plains. Their only choice, until they figured out what was happening, was to stay put.

Jasper watched him leave that night, patting that same cat on the head on his way out of the bar. Jasper had glared at the animal before picking up a broom and chasing it out the door.

Two days later the sheriff was also missing.

Now, every time he saw that cat he reached for his gun. He hadn’t grown up with an ounce of superstition in his body. His uncle had been a wise man; someone who had implored Jasper to think realistically, and with sense. He’d been a man of little faith, earning himself more than his fair share of disapproval, but he was the smartest man Jasper knew.

“There is always a reason for things,” he explained to Jasper on more than one occasion when he’d been a boy, “don’t ever let someone tell you something is unexplainable.”

And though there was no sense in ghost stories, Jasper knew from his days in the war that different things could haunt you in different ways.

For a few weeks, the people of his tiny town stayed within the confines of the area. Mothers and wives fretted fiercely, wanting to desperately send letters to their sons and husbands working and traveling, imploring them to stay away while it wasn’t safe.

But the postman hadn’t been seen since the week the sheriff vanished, leaving the town disconnected from the rest of the world. And now, no visitors had arrived in months.

But when staying in town stopped being enough, people began to panic.

Little Lisa Davis had been snatched from her bed the same night that the Miller men vanished. There’d been theories that floated around then, that perhaps they were behind the disappearances. No one would’ve dared hurt a hair on James Davis’ little girl.

But then the disappearances began to turn into deaths.

The first discovery was gruesome. Davey Clark’s body had been found in the cellar of his home, his neck twisted and opened, his blood cool beneath his mangled body.

Jasper had been one of the men who had volunteered to go help clean up the scene. After all, he’d seen sights just as gory during the war. He could at least stomach the evidence of the monstrous violence, unlike some of the younger fellows.

His only takeaway from that day was that whatever was killing these people—because Davey’s body had been confirmation enough for Jasper that these missing people would not be returning— was absolutely not human.

He had sense, he had to remind himself at night when he cleaned glass pints with a rag, his shotgun never more than arm’s length away from him. He had plenty of sense. But the evidence pointed to something that he couldn’t quite explain yet, and Jasper was no fool. Ghost or monster, it didn’t matter. What mattered now was something Jasper had always been good at: survival.

So, he stopped sleeping at home. Instead he slept in the cellar of the bar in a room behind a room where he could adequately barricade the door, only a lantern to keep him company, as well as his guns as he struggled to sleep.

The disappearances (murders, he eventually had to correct himself) only happened at night, so Jasper stayed alert as much as he could.

When a newcomer came to town, nearly four months after the madness began, people ran from her. Mothers dragged their children into their homes, men grabbed their guns and waited by the windows, and even Jasper locked the doors of his bar, telling his patrons of the afternoon to stay back and shut up.

When a knock at the door broke the silence, Jasper gripped the gun tighter.

“Please let me in,” a woman’s voice implored. And Jasper was so thrown off by how young she sounded that he almost opened the door immediately. “I don’t want them to get me.”

“Don’t you dare, Whitlock,” George Hicks whispered roughly, his own pistol pointed toward the door they both were staring at. “You let that beast in and we’re all dead.”

“Please,” she begged, “It’ll be sundown soon. I’ve been walking all day.”

“You and Len get out through the back and get to Tippy’s,” Jasper eventually commanded of the other men. And when the woman on the other side of the door began to weep, he gestured toward the men with his gun. “Hurry up.”

“That thing’ll kill you, boy.” George shook his head, spitting on the floor as he and the other two men quickly scurried to the back of the bar where they’d find their escape.

Jasper cocked the gun and counted to ten. On eleven he swung the door open, pointing the gun at the woman who stood on the porch, crying heavy, relentless tears.

To her credit she didn’t jump or run away at the sight of a gun being pointed at her face. If anything, she looked relieved. “Thank you,” she shuddered, her dirty dress lying in tatters around her bare feet.

“What do you want?” Jasper commanded, trying to ignore the horrible guilt that kept working it’s way to the surface. She’s just a woman, his mind screamed at him as he held his shotgun steady, she’s harmless. But Jasper knew better than to trust a newcomer during this terrifying summer. “Where did you come from?”

“I travelled here from the East,” she spoke her explanation hurriedly. “It’s been about a week now—straight from Mississippi, sir.” Her accented words appeared to back up the claim, but her state of dress kept his suspicions burning like new. “A friend helped me but they got him. Or well,” she sighed, tears springing down her face like new, “he ran off to distract them so I could get through. I’ve been running all night and all day, sir.”

“And why did you come here?” He asked, peering at her with hard eyes over the gun. In his peripheral he could see the neighbors peeking through the window at the scene. Jasper Whitlock pointing his gun at the strange newcomer, surely wondering if he was the next to go.

“I can’t explain yet, sir. I apologize. And I reckon you won’t believe me.” Despite her tiny stature she stood straight, her face proud and unflinching as she stared back up at him, ignoring the gun’s presence completely. “By all means if you intend on firing that thing go on ahead, but I’m here to help you. Unless you want to be eaten, too.”

Jasper lowered the gun slightly at that. Whether she was calling his bluff or not, Jasper wasn’t sure. (There was no way he’d actually be able to pull the trigger.) Her words confused him. “Eaten?”

“Yes sir. There’s blood drinkers not far. They’re the ones hanging around these parts.”

“I—how do you know this?”

“My friend is one,” she provided without a flinch. Then, her face crumbled as her tears sprung forth like new. “Or, he was one. I fear he’s dead and gone now.”

“And you’re here to help us?”

“To help you,” she emphasized with a pointed look, and when she took a step closer he stepped back. She smiled then, looking ridiculous with her dirty, tear-stained face. “You won’t hurt me.” And then when she stepped around him, walking into the bar with peculiar confidence, he finally lowered the gun.

Gazing across the street he made eye contact with a man watching through his cracked front door and shook his head. If this girl was a threat, Jasper would soon find out. But something in his mind told him that she wasn’t the one causing the chaos that had struck their town.

He closed and locked the door behind him, turning back toward the woman. She’d made her way over to his bar and was perched up on it, already having helped herself to a glass of water. Using his old dish rag she dipped it into the glass and began to clean at her face and hands.

“I’m sorry to frighten you so,” she commented as she worked to clean herself from the desert’s grime. “There isn’t much time, I’m afraid.”

“Before what, precisely?”

“Before they’re back again.”

“The vampires?” He spoke, feeling foolish at the use of the word.

She nodded, and his chest felt tight with the confirmation. Somewhere in his mind he could hear his dead uncle protest, claiming that no such monsters existed. But whether a storybook creation or a thing of true nightmares, Jasper wasn’t about to doubt this strange newcomer.

“You don’t have anything to fear from me,” she spoke after a long pause, as if knowing his train of thought. She glanced up at him through long, dark eyelashes and sighed. “I’m as human as you.” Then, she re-wetted the rag and began to clean her dirty, bare feet.

“Why don’t you have shoes?” He demanded.

“I told you my friend took me out west,” she acted as if this was information he was supposed to have figure out already. “I wasn’t running. He was.”

“But you didn’t think to grab shoes before leaving?”

“It was a matter of urgency.” She turned her nose up and Jasper nearly laughed. As if she had any business pretending to be prim when she was cleaning her dirty feet with his good rag, her skinny legs exposed to a man she’d only known for a handful of minutes. “I can make you believe me, but I’m afraid it’ll frighten you more.”

“I’m a hard man to shake, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Alice.”

“Alice,” he stepped closer to her, his hands still firmly gripping his gun, although he relaxed slightly. “Help me to believe you then.”

“Okay, Jasper,” she looked pointedly up at him. “Tonight your friend with the beard is next and tomorrow no one will go missing. And two nights from now if we aren’t on the road by then I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”

“How do you know my name?” Did she have family here? No. If that were the case people wouldn’t have treated her like she was the monster when she appeared in town. His mouth felt dry as he replayed her words. How was this tiny girl supposed to protect him? It was as laughable as it was absurd.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit touched,” she confessed, finally directing her attention to the mess of hair that lung limply around her face. Meticulously, she began to slowly work her fingers through the strands, untangling it slowly. “I’ve seen things I can’t explain since I was a girl. It’s how I made my friend. And it’s how I led him out here. To you.”

“Why me?”

She hummed, as if amused by his insisting. “How much do you believe so far?”

“None of it.”

“Shame.”

“You want me to leave with you?” She nodded, looking back up at him. He took a few steps closer, finally resting the gun down on the bar. Close enough that he could still grab it, but far enough away that it was out of Alice’s reach. “And how will the… vampires not get us?”

“If we leave the day after tomorrow.”

“How are you so certain of things you can’t even prove to me.”

“Because I don’t need to,” she smiled again, and Jasper had to agree. She was a bit touched in the head. “It is the way it is. And if you don’t believe me we’ll both die.”

“Why you, too?”

“Because I’m not leaving without you.”

He laughed then, picking his gun back up and walking around the bar. “You’re not staying here.”

“So you’d send me back onto the streets? I’d die for sure tonight.”

He sighed loudly, putting the gun back down before uncapping the gin behind the bar. Taking a swig he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Alice had swung her feet around so that she was facing him once more, holding her arm out expectantly.

He placed the bottle in her palm and watched curiously as she took a sip and then sputtered and coughed.

He laughed again. “How old are you?”

She glared at him, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Not much of a lady, this one. Then, she tipped the bottle again, clenching her eyes shut tight as she took another swig. This one she held down. With a gasp, she shook her head, handing back the bottle. “I’m nineteen, thank you.”

Then, her eyes shot toward the door, and Jasper immediately acted, grabbing the gun and pointing it toward the door.

“Let’s go,” she was at his side instantly, tugging at his elbow, pulling him toward where he knew the cellar door was located. It was impossible that this girl knew where to go, but when she led him down the stairs, into the cellar, and then through the doors that hid his private, secret room, he was stunned.

He slept little that night. After locking them both in he’d watched in shock as Alice made herself entirely too comfortable, curling up in the linens that he usually slept on, and falling into her dreams easily.

It would be a strange thing to have to explain to the patrons he’d evacuated today why this girl had been allowed to stay and why she would still be there when he opened up shop in the morning.

But morning came. And George didn’t.

Miriam delivered the teary news herself, her young grandson clinging to her leg on the porch of the bar, his eyes blown wide as he jumped at anything that moved.

“It got him last night,” the woman explained as calmly as she could. “Ripped him right out of my arms before I could shout or do anything. I didn’t even see the thing but it was there. It was in my home, and now my Georgie is gone.”

The mourning widow left, off to deliver the news to more of George’s acquaintances, and Alice’s words from the night before felt heavy in his head.

“Tonight your friend with the beard is next.”

When he closed the door back up, locking up before noontime rolled around, he turned to find Alice sitting at one of the barstools, looking toward him with sad eyes. “I don’t want to be right all the time,” she spoke quietly. “I don’t like knowing these things.”

“How do you know them?” He asked, feeling a bit lightheaded as he stumbled his way toward the bar and sat himself heavily in the stool besides hers.

“I can’t explain it. I get feelings. I see pictures. And then things happen.” When she reached over and grabbed his hand, he didn’t even fight her. He didn’t want to fight her. He was too tired to fight anything anymore. Especially these phantoms that stole and took no matter what they did. Alice lifted his hand, pressing his palm against her cheek and holding it there. “I can’t change the things that happen. But this time I’m going to try.”

“You said I die?” Her skin was soft under his hand, and as he spoke he found himself studying this little witch’s solemn expression.

“Not if I can help it.”

“You said no one dies tonight.” She nodded in confirmation. “And that you want to leave by tomorrow night.”

“If we don’t, we die.”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, watching as she closed her eyes and sighed at the touch. He frowned then, pulling his hand out of her grip and back into his lap. The noise she made wasn’t quite helping him interact with his guest in an appropriate manner. He shifted on the stool and looked out to his empty bar.

“If no one vanishes tonight, I’ll believe you. And then I’ll come along.”

Alice, who had frowned as he pulled himself away from her, smiled then. Her relief was so palpable that he found himself relaxing.

He spent the day out on the town after that. Alice had advised him that if she went with him people would talk and it wouldn’t bode well for her, so she was forced to stay behind while he walked around town, gathering provisions and looking for a pair of shoes for the girl.

He bought some from George’s niece, Frances, who regarded him coolly but sold him the shoes anyways. Alice had tiny feet, she explained to him before he left for his errands. To try and get her point across she’d boldly grabbed his hand again before pressing it flat against the sole of her foot, showing him that her toes barely reached his middle finger.

He’d pulled his hand away from the improper girl swiftly, neck blood-red as he’d muttered under his breath before gathering his hat and leaving her behind. Her cheeky grin that he caught proved to him that the little woman knew she was being lewd.

It annoyed him to no end that the shoes he bought—that he very stealthily measured against his open palm—fit Alice perfectly. When she slipped them on she smirked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye.

She advised him to gather some of his belongings—“I can’t see how long they’ll be in this area; it could be years”—but he shook his head. He’d only been in the small town for a couple of years now. He’d looked for somewhere quiet to live after the war but despite his residence and relative success in this small town, he knew it wasn’t a place he’d stay for too long.

His belongings, or at least the ones he cared about, were meager. As long as he had a canteen of water, a fresh set of clothes, and his guns in his knapsack, he’d be content. He packed a second bag, at Alice’s request. One that she would carry as they ran back east. This one with only threadbare blankets and food that wouldn’t spoil.

Alice appeared to have no idea how long it would take them to travel a safe enough distance, so that night he packed extra food and spent an hour digging through crates for another canteen.

If death was certain when they stayed, he wanted to be sure it wouldn’t claim them on the run, as well.

They bunkered down before sunset that night. Jasper felt almost calm, for the first time in months. He wasn’t sure if it was Alice’s presence that calmed him, or his quick trust in her ability that she was so confident in, but after he barricaded the door, he felt at peace almost.

“It will be okay,” she whispered, and when she grabbed his hand and pulled him after her, he didn’t resist. But when she laid him down and simply rested herself beside him, lacing her fingers with his, he found himself relieved. She was asleep minutes later, the glow of the lantern illuminating the angles of her face in the darkness.

Lifting his other hand he hesitated before reaching over and brushing the back of his knuckles lightly across her cheek. Her appearance in this town still made little sense to him, but it was hard to force himself to understand when she clearly operated in a different state of mind than he.

Still, when he woke early the following morning—a little disoriented and almost stunned he’d slept so soundly—to Alice pulling a blanket overtop of the both of them, he couldn’t help it when he rolled toward her, pulling her against him. And when he lazily kissed her, hardly thinking about what he was doing, she sighed against him as if she’d been waiting for it.

They rolled around the sheets, learning each other’s bodies until mid-morning when she froze, breaking a heated kiss as her eyes glassed over. Jasper called her name multiple times, but the only physical sign that she was hearing him at all came when she reached out for him blindly, her hands only stilling when they grasped his face between them.

He waited what felt like an eternity before she blinked again, and suddenly she was sitting up. The abrupt motion would’ve forced her forehead to smack into his face if he hadn’t shifted out of the way in time. Then, she was panting, clutching her hands to her naked chest as she pulled her knees up.

“No,” she whispered, the word catching on a sob. “No, no, it can’t be…”

“What’s happening?” Jasper reached out for her quickly, brushing strands of hair out of her face only to reveal wide, terrified eyes. “Alice, what… what did you see?”

“I was wrong,” she whispered as the tears pooled over. Then, her eyes locked onto his. “We don’t have another night.”

“What… how… but you said—”

“They caught my scent. They know I was with my friend—he was covered in my scent, too. They know I’m out here. It’s,” a realization struck her so abruptly that she flinched, her head falling into her hands, “oh god. Oh, my god.”

“Alice,” he reached forward and gripped her shoulders, giving her a firm shake, “Alice, look at me. What happened?”

“It’s all my fault!” Then she let out a shriek that almost made Jasper smack his hands over his ears. “Oh, my god. Oh, my god.” When she started rocking back and forth Jasper didn’t know what to do. “It’s me. I’m the reason they come for you. I’m the reason we die. It all makes sense now. It’s my fault.”

“I can’t change the things that happen,” she had told him confidently. The words of a woman with nothing to lose. “But this time I’m going to try.”

And she’d tried. And, according to herself, she’d failed. And now there was nothing to be done.

Jasper had thought enough about his own fate in the past few months. Every night that passed was another night in which he may die, and every morning that greeted him had begun one more day that he didn’t expect to be gifted.

Since the end of the war, Jasper had realized he’d been living on borrowed time. He’d dodged death too often, in ways that made little sense. But he’d made it home, unlike so many of his brothers in arms.

He’d been prepared to die since he was a sixteen-year-old kid, lying to an army recruiter and getting away with it because he was tall.

Now that he stood on death’s front porch, he couldn’t even find the fear within himself. It was Alice’s fear that made him act. “Is there nothing I can do?” He asked pitifully, hands still resting helplessly on her shoulders as the girl shook and sobbed. “Tell me how I can get you out of here. Tell me how I can save at least you.” He was ready to die. This girl, not so much.

“It’s pointless,” she cried, tears and snot and spit falling from her face. “I doomed you. I’m sorry Jasper. I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her up in his arms then, feeling hollow as he listened to her sob noisily.

He didn’t bother opening up the bar that day. Nor did he want to walk around town and hear any new news. He already knew that what Alice had told him—about there being no disappearances last night—was true. He could feel it firmly in his bones.

They eventually dressed themselves and left the small hideout, wandering back up to the main level to lounge around the bar. Alice’s face was red, swollen with tears, her dress hastily fastened and tied without care.

He didn’t go far that day. Just down the street to trade some liquor for a couple of hot meals. It felt strange, to know that he would be dead by the time the sun rose the following morning. Even as he bid Miss Tassie a farewell it felt strange. Like it wasn’t enough to simply say goodbye and walk back to his sanctuary.

But that’s just what he did. He didn’t walk around and bid farewell to his regulars. He didn’t stop by Mick’s place and tell him that he’d have to take over the bar again. He didn’t even take a good look at the sun—he knew the sky would stay blue and the sun would stay bright without him committing it to memory.

He and Alice ate their fill quietly. After their meal Alice curled up right there on the floor and slept. Jasper nearly joined her before he realized he wanted to tidy things up for Mick. Make it easier for them to reopen the bar once he was gone.

As he cleaned he let his mind wander. He hoped that the monsters that came for them would at least have the decency of whisking them away to kill them. He didn’t want these poor people to have to clean up another gory mess. As he packed away spirits and ales he wondered if they would maybe kill them first, then take their bodies elsewhere to feed.

He supposed he should’ve felt more uneasy at the idea, but the thoughts were something to pass the time.

Eventually Alice woke and they sat up, passing a bottle between them.

After a few hours Alice decided to tell him exactly what they would be missing out on. About the life they would’ve had ahead of them, had their future not changed course. They would’ve ran back to Mississippi, she claimed, but they wouldn’t have stayed long. Then, they would’ve travelled north. Jasper scoffed at the idea of willingly mingling with the yankees, to which Alice had smacked his shoulder firmly, shushing him.

“After a few years we’d get married, of course.”

Jasper made another offended noise. “Years? Why years?”

“Because our cover story would include already being married. But we’d get married for real up north. We would have to anyways, I’d get pregnant once we settled into the city.”

“Hm,” he hummed as she spoke, pulling her close to him and pressing his nose into her hair. She smelled like wet dirt and liquor, but Jasper didn’t mind. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to picture the future they’d never have, wishing he could see it the same way she could. “Then what?”

“You’d get a job working at the harbor as a deckhand. We’d have a little house with a view of the water where the kids and I could look out and see where you were. You’d have lots of friends,” she looked up at him, “you’re very personable, you know. Then, I’d make you quit and get a job somewhere else, because I can see instances where you hurt yourself on a few occasions. After that…”

The spent their day like this. Alice was a never-ending supply of what-ifs as he supplied ideas and alternatives for the future they’d never have. The more intoxicated they became the more elaborate the stories grew, and eventually as he turned and looked down at Alice, tucked in the crook of his arm and laughing herself silly, he realized how easy it would have been to fall in love with the psychic girl.

Too bad they were doomed.

The had sex a few more times after that as they continued to get progressively drunker until eventually they both passed out, fully naked and wrapped up in one another on the floor of the bar.

Jasper came to hours later. When he sat up he realized he was still drunk, and it took him several minutes to realize what time it was. He rushed over toward the window, stumbling the entire way. When he noticed the moon high in the sky he felt all the blood rush out of his body.

Turning back toward Alice, who was still unconscious on the floor where he’d left her, he left his heart clench and his stomach drop. He couldn’t wake her. It would be cruel to have her wait up alongside him before their death.

Instead, he approached quietly, and as carefully as he was able to, lifted the skinny girl into his arms. Alice barely shifted as he carried her across the bar and down the stairs, but when he tried to lower her onto the rickety mattress of his hideout, her arms weakly reached out to him.

“Stay,” she mumbled in her sleep, her arms lacing behind his neck as she sighed.

Jasper leaned forward and kissed her softly before laying beside her. With one hand he brushed his fingers through her hair, and within a minute she was back asleep.

He covered her in every blanket he could find, before he took one final look at her and left the room.

They came for him eventually.

It wasn’t noiseless, the way he thought it would be. No stealth was attempted as the creatures of the night pushed his door open, breaking the lock and sending wood chips flying. Jasper didn’t even have time to fire his gun before something was gripping his throat fiercely.

“Do not crush that one yet,” a heavily accented voice spoke, and suddenly there was a group of what looked like people standing around his bar. Their eyes all glowing red. “Find the girl first.”

“NO,” Jasper kicked his feet at the red-eyed monster who held his life in their hands.

After a long peal of laughter, the voice chimed in again. “I like him. Him, we will use.” Jasper watched as a small dark-haired woman strode up to him slow enough that she looked almost human. Then, she turned toward the man who held him and said, “if you keep him alive long enough for me to change him, you can have the girl.”

When the creature holding onto him let out a hiss, Jasper flinched, his hands tugging and pulling at the stone-cold wrist gripping him.

“Hello soldier,” the woman spoke to him directly now, eyeing his military uniform with amusement (he’d decided to die wearing what he thought he would have, years ago). “Welcome to a different kind of war.”

The next several minutes were a blur of pain and movement and screaming. His final thoughts were focused solely on his lovely little Alice, dread weighing down his every thought as he imagined all the ways they would kill her. She hadn’t been ready to die, but she’d risked her life to save him anyways.

Unfortunately, she’d played right into fate’s hand.

And when the fire started, Jasper knew it was over.

10 notes · View notes

⭑ shaken, not stirred universe. | introduction.

notes:we’ve heard about bartender!sukuna, so get ready for the others! think of this as those choose-your-own adventure games, where you can choose your own love interest and path. you’re not just limited to sukuna, but you’ve got many more love interests you can choose (or request). this is just a humble introduction to the roles each jjk character fills within the shaken, not stirred universe, and may allude to some of the situations you may encounter on you way. so grab a snack, buckle in, cause it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

depending on how tumblr updates go, this may become a project reserved for AO3, but I’ll do what I can for now, here on tumblr. feel free to ask about any of the characters, and you all know how to find my inbox. additionally, i’m going to try and make this as gender-neutral and reader-neutral as possible, BUT, i’m also slightly biased in making content for black girls because I am one, so we’ll see how this goes. each drabble or fic will be marked for what kind of reader it discusses. also, i’m a sucker for a good oc... so there may be a whole related series with an original character(s). this is just the introduction for the universe so you know who is who.

MAIN ROUTES INCLUDE: sukuna, toji, nanami, megumi, yuji, mei mei, gojo, and geto. i’d be open to include routes for nobara, maki, inumaki, yuta, kamo, todo, momo, and mai (and maybe, choso) (but by default, nobara and maki are together unless requested individually, and mai is with momo (unless you request them individually as well). regardless of route, shoko and utahime are together.) but you would have to request these characters as in send me a message going“for the shaken not stirred universe, i would like a mai x reader, or nobara x reader”.

warnings: they’ll vary by route/character you choose, however, some general warnings is mentions of alcohol, past relationships, drama, angst. there’s some potential for 18+ content, however it will be marked as such (should it occur). oh, and there’s probably some unchecked grammar or spelling errors. there’s also a little bit of manga spoilers due to some characters being introduced.

summary: welcome to malevolent shrine, in the heart of shibuya, and one of the best rated bars on yelp. for all it’s worth (and that one entryway at the side that you have to go down a set of exterior stairs and through a laundromat to get through that entrance) and despite the name, in its two story glory, it’s a fun place to be. the people who enter or work there are even better. and they’ve all got stories to tell. sit back, grab a drink, and prepare for what may be some of the most interesting events you’ve ever seen.

bonus: sukuna specific playlist ( x ), malevolent shrine playlist ft. sounds from their local acts/musicians ( x ), more to be added later (i am thinking of one called ‘toji’s ipod shuffle’, another called ‘dancing in gojo’s living room’, and one called ‘sitting in the passenger seat of geto’s car’.)

© all characters belong to gege akutami. however, this au and associated ideas are of my own creation, do not steal.

introducing the characters!

bartender!sukuna: new owner of the bar, malevolent shrine. when he gained ownership two years ago, he remodeled the bar and renamed it, as it was about to foreclose until he took managerial control, and the original owner gave him the bar when they retired. has a college degree in art history and art, has a few business management courses under his belt. he’s yuji’s older brother, and he’s very intense. there’s headcanons for him here ( x ). he has a signature drink, named after the bar, called malevolent shrine.

accountant!nanami: think of him as sukuna’s second in command (next to uraume) but he manages the finances of malevolent shrine. also hates work, but sukuna allows him to do what he wants, so he enjoys it slightly more. has a signature drink called 7-to-3.

budding model!nobara: in a professional rivalry with mai, however she is a signed to a modeling agency as well as growing in her instagram presence.

college student!maki: she is in her senior year of college, and is an athlete that does track and field — shot-put and discus and javelin.

benefactor!gojo: an old classmate of sukuna’s, now turned benefactor and donor to malevolent shrine to keep it open. he and sukuna have a so-so relationship (with gojo remembering that sukuna took the job as a way to take care of his younger brother yuji and their grandfather). sukuna did make a drink in his honor called infinite void.

restaurantowner!geto: owns a high-scale restaurant with mei mei. raising two twin girls. he’s mostly a retired pianist, but he helped sign the lease with mei mei for stability’s sake.

benefactor!mei mei: is a rival to gojo, both in terms of owning her restaurant (more like funding it) and buys whatever she likes (whether it’s an item or a person).

culinary student!yuji: works as a“head” of the kitchen at malevolent shrine. he’s sukuna’s younger brother, and sukuna tends to give him free reign on the meals that he makes. but everything he makes is good. when he’s not at school or malevolent shrine, he’s usually hanging out with nobara and megumi.

indie artist!megumi: one of the main and recurring acts at malevolent shrine. plays the guitar and will deny that he ever learned how to play the violin. he’s sort of adopted by gojo, but knows his father toji, and they’re working on reconciling their relationship. he’s roommates with yuji and nobara, and often used as nobara’s photographer.

bouncer!toji: the dilf. he’s boxing buddies with sukuna, as well as a force to be reckoned with at the bar. he’s good at his job and dare someone to pick a fight with him. you won’t win. sukuna made a drink in his honor called playful cloud.

musician!kamo: does a mixture of traditional japanese music and heavy metal, and he’s rivals with megumi.he can play an electric shamisen.

instagram model!mai and makeup artist!momo: sort of girlfriends, sort of FWBs, sort of exes, no one is exactly sure what’s going on there, and no one wants to ask. mai is a popular instagram model, but has yet to be signed to an agency. momo is her makeup artist, as well as a professional one.

part-time waitress!miwa: she works at malevolent shrine, helping as a waitress, and has a baking yt channel that’s growing in popularity and often features her two brothers.

physical trainer!todo: works at the gym sukuna and toji frequently attend. he’s very supportive to old and newcomers alike, and does not tolerate elitists who have been going to the gym for years. he also does the occasional twitch stream of his workouts.

guitarist!yuta: plays the guitar for inumaki. he can play both electric and acoustic, and he’s like a second cousin to gojo, although no one is exactly sure how they’re related.

singer!inumaki: he’s a singer, however, no one has ever seen his face when he performs. he performs as a silhouette behind a screen.

paramedic!shoko and high school teacher!utahime: shoko is a paramedic who attends the bar on her days off, and often drags utahime along. shoko makes sure that geto and gojo get along in public, and makes sure utahime relaxes to some extent.

shoko and sukuna hold each other accountable for not relapsing on their smoking addiction.

promotions and tech support!mechamaru: works at malevolent shrine and helps with the graphic design as well as tech support for the bands and musical acts that come through the bar. watches miwa’s baking channel in his spare time, and will talk to her about her recipes. has a crush on miwa.

notes:

geto and gojo are very complicated exes. no one knows how they broke up or why — just that it happened in front of a kfc —but there’s so many stories about them floating around like they were going to elope and travel the world, but no one knows the exact truth.

gojo raised megumi and tsumiki very briefly for some years while toji was a brief drifter. yes, megumi is aware that toji is his dad.

yuji, nobara, and megumi are roommates.

yuta and inumaki are a musical duo. they come as a set.

227 notes · View notes

Obsessive Ledger!joker x reader

I’ve been spoiling you all recently with all this Ledger!Joker, so you’re welcome 😎 (but also so sorry because I did go on a hiatus without saying anything for half a year 😬). Let me know in the asks if you want something in particular, I love writing for J so much! I have a few already that I am working on as we speak, so stay tuned for those 💜

Below are headcannons for a more yandere and darker joker than I usually write 👻 nothing abusive here because J is still very much my comfort character, but it definitely includes over-possessive, protective and stalker themes, as well as encouraging reader to join in on his murderous chaos

Warnings: morally ambiguous reader, joining joker on his “fun” i.e. mentions of torturing others, blood, weapons, severed body parts as gifts, implied seggsy time

· Before adoration, fondness or love, the first feelings Joker had for you was pure obsession. Obsession with what you thought and felt, what you liked to do and why you liked to do them. Obsession with your safety and the need to protect you, which led to jealousy and possessiveness very often. It was primal, and longing, and left him thirsting after your presence like a greedy, hungry wolf. He wanted you- needed you- and he was going to get you

·In spite of a period of flirting, suggestive jokes and hinting touches, Joker made it clear pretty quickly what his feelings were for you. Because of his lifestyle death is like a waiting shadow, and wasting time on what he wants is just not his style

· Quite soon into the beginning of your more romantic relationship, you move into his hideout for the sake of your safety, which calmed J down with some of his possessiveness and paranoid thoughts. He knew his home was the safest place in Gotham, excluding Bruce Wayne’s cave, and with you in it that meant you were safe too.

·When he’s gone, he’ll leave a huge shotgun behind for you to use in case of emergency, as well as Chechen’s Rottweilers. You’ll find some stray knives and pointy objects hidden in your coats too, “just in case”, but its more heartwarming to you than annoying

· He loves to lay on you at night, whether it be right on your chest to hear your heartbeat, or on your belly where he can feel your soft skin pressed against his scared cheeks. Not only is it pleasant and lets his touched-starved soul get some attention, but it also makes him hyper aware of every shift or move your body does while asleep. It also prevents you from sneaking out of the bed to run away, which is one of his more paranoid thoughts. Don’t try to move away or push him off, he will smack your hand back and snuggle in deeper, wrapping his arms around you like a snake

· He doesn’t care what insecurities you have regarding your appearance; he admires every single piece of you and will cuddle with whatever he wants, so push your anxieties aside because Joker hungers for all of you

· His gifts can sometimes be very macabre. Generally, he loves to spoil you with an array of things, such as new clothes or lingerie, plush toys of your favorite animals, snacks you said you’ve wanted to try, or even just random knick-knacks he stole from his victim’s homes. However, if he’s feeling adventurous or extra flirty that day, he will bring you certain body parts to symbolize his feelings for you.

· You’ve definitely found your fair share of human hearts in your fridge, because he adores how your heart races when your scared. You’ve found a pair of lungs stuffed in there too, because the little gasps you make when frightened or anticipating his touch are delicious to him. You went to get milk once and right behind the carton was a tongue, symbolizing how much he relishes your little talks and midnight conversations

· Once, he brought over a whole corpse, the body decomposing and gnarled, skin ripped to shreds and a face pummeled so brutally it had concaved. “Don’t need to worry about them any more doll,” he giggled, spitting on the body with a fervor that thrilled you. It took a few minutes of intense staring- why did they look familiar?- but then it clicked in your mind; it was the very person you had fumed and vented to Joker about last night, right before he had spontaneously left

· “J,” you began, eyes nearly popping out of your head. “Did you kill him... for me?”

· “ ‘Course I did, sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know I’d, uh, kill anyone for you. Nasty fucks like them especially-ah.”

· If you have to leave for longer periods of time, whether that be for school or work, Joker will always have a few of his men stalking you from a distance, making sure you’re safe and that no one dangerous is within a 1 mile radius of you. They also have explicit instructions to take photos and send them to J, because he likes looking at your oblivious little face.

· He’d do it himself if he has the time, which he sometimes does, but he too is quite busy with his own things (when anarchy calls, as they say), so hiring lookouts is the next best thing. If he could, he’d have you right by his side at all times… how pretty you’d look in a soft purple leash... but that’s just daydream fuel for now

· Speaking of photos, Joker knows his ways around a camera. He makes... lovely home videos that he sends to news channels in his free time (rip fake batman) and he continues to practice at his craft from time to time. He even won a deepweb award for best snuff film of the year, which boosted his ego to ungodly heights. He’s absolutely delighted about it and hints that you should watch it on one of your movie nights, but he does warn it’s not for the faint of heart

· Taking videos and photos are one of his favorite hobbies, and if you’re down to clown… he’d certainly bring it in the bedroom

· Speaking of his more thrilling hobbies, Joker will constantly suggest you join him on his escapades or help out behind the scenes, especially if he picks up on any sort of interest from you concerning his ‘job’. Joker is an observant man, and he reads you like a book. He knows you likely have some dark, sinister thoughts running around in your head - you must, if you’re with him- so he does everything he can to encourage you to let them out. Joker will never judge this side of you, no matter how grim. He’ll try and harness it, bring it to light. He hates the thought of you shying away from your true self, embarrassed of your darker nature, but what he hates even more is you thinking he’ll be disgusted with you or disappointed. How can you think that?

· “No no no, bunny, not me. You’re my muse, so give me some inspiration hmm? Tell daddy exactly what’s going on in that mind of yours...”

· If you do show interest in the darker side of his job, he’d smile so big that his scars take up his whole face. He’d teach you everything; how to fire a gun, how to stab someone, how to hide a body and how to torture one. He’ll spread out all his weapons on the floor and let you choose which one calls to you, like a deranged ceremony, informing you on the pros and cons of each one. He’ll even invite you into the warehouses he designated just for torture, which are just as gruesome and sinful and they sound

· J let’s you watch as he hurts his victims, whom are purposefully rapists and killers to make you feel less guilty, and let’s you join in on the fun whenever you gain the courage. He even went as far as to buy a whole torture set off the black market, from scalpel to needles, just to give you options. Joker loves to see how creative you can get, and it’s one of the few times he lets you take complete control

· “The floor is yours, bunny. Impress me.”

· He is down for pretty much anything, and that mindset is not exclusive just to the bedroom

·Any couple activity you fear might be too far or creepy for other people… is right around J’s alley. Weird kinks or foreplay games you want to try? No problem. Making love in abandoned houses or cemeteries? Now that’s his type of romance. You want to carry a small vial of his blood around your neck? He is all game, but only if he gets one of you as well. Matching knives? He’s blushing. Satanic blood ritual from a sketchy website that’s supposed to bond your souls for eternity? Perfect, his weekend plans were centered around you anyways

· Now…If he feels that you’re not giving him enough attention or start to push him away, he will resort to crazier means to obtain your love back. He’ll set off random bugs, rats or even henchmen into your home to scare you, gleefully waiting to hear you cry out his name in fear. Like a small, dependent little kitten, mewling for their protector. He’d come in, guns ablaze, looking for whatever scared his darling angel, killing them on sight. You’d run into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you cling to Joker like your life depended on it- just how he liked it. He’d coo mockingly and pull you closer, rubbing your back as he unashamedly basked in your physical touch.

· In general however, your soft caresses, kisses and reassuring words are enough to keep him very pleased. He knows you adore him and are head over heels obsessed just like he is, and that truly does put a smile on his face.

545 notes · View notes

(Part one, part two. This fic is pretty much a mash up of this post about tiefling virtue names and this post about Molly’s tattoos, because apparently I couldn’t stop thinking about it even after making them. Some small references are made to the prior fics but all that’s really needed is that Kingsley recently got all of Molly’s memories and is dealing with that.)

The weather and the seas that day were remarkably calm - not that good for sailing, but good for tasks that required steadier footing or hands. And if the doldrums did stay longer than was welcome, Fjord and Jester both had some tricks to get them out of it, so, nothing to really worry about. There were plenty of things he could do on a day like today.

In that moment he was in Jester’s cabin, sitting on a cushion beside her bed, while she sat on the bed above him and carded her fingers through his hair.

“So what do you want to do this time? Something fancy? Ohh, maybe adventurous? Beau’s here, maybe we could try shaving it!”

Kingsley chuckled, relaxing back into the touch as she gathered up the hair. “Just the usual trim for now. We’ll see about the rest once that's done.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Jester said, bringing out her small pair of shears and starting on the bottom of the hair while her tail idly brushed against his own. “I do think you’d look really cool with shaved sides though.”

He gave a little hum, letting his tail wrap around hers. “Probably. But trim first.”

“Okaaaaay,” Jester said, mock exasperated, but he could hear the smile in her voice. Soon enough she settled into her rhythm, pulling up individual sections of hair and the quiet snip of the shears the only sound for a moment.

The first time Jester had trimmed his hair had been, while not a disaster, not the best either. At the time however he’d been too aggravated by his long hair to really care, and soon enough it’d become a regular thing, Jester improving with the additional practice. In the grand scheme of things a haircut might not be a huge deal, but at the same time? That first haircut in Nicodranas had been one of the first times he’d really been able to really take control of his own appearance, feel comfortable in how he looked, and he was forever grateful to Jester for helping him continue that. Plus, it was a great way for them to have some time to gossip. Speaking of which...

“So I heard something from Beau the other day.”

“Ohhh? What kind of thing?” He felt her lean forward a little, tail coming free from his to swing back and forth.

“Well, one thing, she told me to ask about a story, but I'm not doing that part yet.”

“Aww! Why not?”

“Cause I don't want to get accidentally stabbed if I laugh at the wrong time.” As if to emphasize his point he felt the shears trimming some hair closer to his ear. “Besides, I can ask about it afterwards, something to look forward to.”

“But you could still do nowww,” Jester said, and even without seeing her face he could hear her pouting.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he said dramatically and he was rewarded with a giggle.

“Okay, fine. What’s the other part?”

“She was talking about members of the Nein having different names, besides me?” He stretched out his arms in front of him and bowed his back a little before relaxing again, making sure not to move his head while he did it. “I know about Nott and Veth, and there were those sketchy assassin wizard people calling Caleb Bren when all that went down, but she also mentioned you? Said I should ask you about it.” He did his best to seem blasé but his tail betrayed him, curling and thrashing along the floor. He reached over and stilled it with his hand, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“Oh!” Her voice was surprised, and the shears stopped for a moment. “Did she. Um. Say what it was?”

Kingsley almost shook his head but stopped himself in time. “Nah. Probably figured it wasn’t her place to share, and I’d agree. Won’t say I’m not curious but up to you.”

Understatement. Painful understatement. But he wasn’t going to force it either, no matter how much he wanted to know. It was less about the name itself and more just... the confirmation that she’d had a different name at some point. Something that could maybe help him feel a little less alone with the tangled mess of two names bouncing around in his head these past couple days.

The sound of the shears started back up again. “... Genevieve. But my name is Jester.”

“Never said it wasn’t dear,” Kingsley said, feeling himself relax. “What made you want to change it?”

There was another pause, longer than he expected. “... do you not know about virtue names? Wait, what am I saying?” He felt Jester shift on the bed and a few moments later she was climbing down onto the floor and sitting in front him, hands settling into her lap. “I forget sometimes that you don’t know about certain tiefling stuff.”

Kingsley blinked a few times at the sudden change in set up. “And?”

“So I guess it’s my job to teach you!”

“Am I still getting the rest of my haircut?” He held up a lock of untrimmed hair.

She swatted his arm. “Yes! But this is important enough that I want to talk to you about it face to face.”

Jester shifted to make herself comfortable then clapped her hands together in front of her. “So! What I know about this I learned from my mama, so I don't know everything but what I do know is preeetty cool. The easy version is that virtue names are naming yourself what you want to be!”

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

That earned him another swat on the arm. “There’s more to it than that, silly! Or...” She paused, then shrugged. “Actually, that is pretty much it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“See, a virtue name isn’t just what you want to be, it’s thinking about who you are. What you want to strive for, what’s important to you, who you are as a person.” Jester placed a hand on her chest. “For me, Jester was something I thought sounded cool, and I liked that they made other people laugh. And, okay, maybe those reasons are a little simple, but it’s still me, and because it’s me it’s important.”

Kingsley thought over what she’d said.“I... take it Marion isn’t a virtue name?”

Jester shook her head. “Nope, my mama liked the name she had. But she still told me I could choose whatever name I wanted, you know? Even if she didn’t change it herself she wanted me to have that choice. And I did, and I’m happy being Jester.”

“Anyway, that’s tiefling virtue names!” She straightened, about to stand back up when she stopped, something seeming to occur to her. “Wait.” And then Jester pointed at him, face brightening. “Kingsley’s kind of like a virtue name!”

His current confused mess about names did a weird flip in his stomach. “Uh-?”

“You mentioned feeling kingly, and you even have your goal of maybe becoming the Plank King someday! That's so cool!” Jester grinned at him, hands clasped together, but a few moments later her smile fell away. “... Kingsley?”

Even with being addressed directly Kingsley glanced behind him (which, of course, was just the bed), wondering what suddenly had her looking so worried. Was something on his face?

“I’m fine,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. It was when he looked to the side that he caught the culprit - his godsdamned tail again. His hand snapped out, stilling it, but he knew that this time she'd definitely seen it. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Kingsley.” Her voice had softened. “What’s wrong?”

For a split second he considered lying, but the thought died quickly. Jester had already caught him, and... yeah, he didn't like lying to her. Not about important stuff at least. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I... I think the name talk might be wigging me out a little.” And he’d even been the one to bring it up in the first place.

“Do you want to talk about something else?”

Kingsley shook his head. “Nah, it’s just- Beau told me about the others changing their names, probably to try and make me feel better?” He ran a hand through his partially trimmed hair, while the thumb on his other hand worried at his nails. “And it helped but right now all I can think about is how I'm different. Caleb was a random alias that stuck, Veth was stuck in a different body, and you-” He gestured at her- “got a chance to really think about what you wanted. And all of you were still, well- you.”

Kingsley let out a sigh, hands dropping into his lap. “It’s... dumb but, I almost feel weirdly guilty about my name right now? I like it but I picked it when I didn’t remember and-”

“Kingsley no.” She reached forward and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Don't ever feel guilty about that, okay?”

Kingsley jumped a little, surprised at her intensity. “I- okay?”

“You said you like your name, right?” Jester squeezed his hand.

A small pause. “Yes?”

“And you still believe in the reasons you picked your name?”

“...yyyes?”

“Then it's your name.” She held his gaze. “You can add to it if you want, but please don’t feel like you have to change it.” Her face softened again and she gave a small smile. “You’re allowed to like your name and who you are. That’s okay.” She patted the back of back of his hand. “And... maybe you can just think of it as your actual virtue name? If you want to. I was allowed to make that choice, and so can you. And you could totally just have two names if you wanted. It's up to you.”

It took several long moments for him just to process. “...Huh.” Thinking about the name Kingsley. Keeping it, but maybe now as a virtue name, a deliberate choice, showing who and what he wanted to be. Knowing he could still keep the other name too if he wanted. “Huh.” He nodded to himself. “Actually... yeah. I like that. I like that a lot. Thank you Jester.”

Jester finally grinned again, giving one more squeeze to his hand and a small nod in return. “Happy to help.”

She clambered back up to her spot on the bed, brushing his hair back to where it’d been before she’d climbed down. “Anything you want to talk about next?”

“I think I’d like to just relax for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me!” Jester said.

Things settled into a comfortable sort of quiet, Jester humming a small tune and sounds of the ocean filtering in from the outside. That was one experience he'd never gotten to have before, at least, and it'd helped to serve as a good touchstone these past couple days. An easy dividing line for before and after. But in that moment, with the quiet intent work, someone else changing something on his body on his behalf, a new memory ran through his mind - or rather, new to him.

Sitting backwards on a chair, shirt off and resting his arms on the chair back, hair somehow even shorter than it was now. People talking around him, friendly, asking what he wanted and what he had in mind, before a prickling burning pain started on his right shoulder. The pain continuing down his arm, but there was a satisfaction to it, knowing that this scar, this tattoo was his own mark. Laying claim to a body that was unfamiliar and foreign, blotting out an eye that wouldn't stop staring and wouldn't go away.

That pain was distant now, separated not only by time but death and revival as well, but Kingsley still found himself looking down at the snake tattoo wrapping around his arm, the scales bordered and adorned by numerous scars. He hadn't paid much attention to it when he'd first woken up (outside of wondering about questionable decisions) or even really in the immediate time afterwards. Now it was almost like double vision looking at it - a tangible reminder of someone screaming to the world that he was alive, he was here, he existed.

He gave a quiet snort. A reminder of life, but it'd still stuck around when he was very much not alive and buried in the ground. Then again...

A few tufts of hair dropped onto his shoulder and Jester brushed them off for him, continuing to hum as she worked. Sure, he'd been dead and in the ground, but he wasn't anymore. And even when he hadn't remembered different things, the tattoos had still been there. Proof that Molly had existed.

Kingsley held up his right hand in front of him towards the light shining through the open door, examining the blank spot in the snake’s head, before flipping to his palm and looking at the blank spot there as well. He hadn't ever been bothered by those before - in fact, the sight had been a relief. But right now, those voids on his hand, scattered around other various body parts and tattoos... it was making him itch. It wasn’t complete.

“Hey Jester?” He continued to hold his hand in front of him, tail tapping on the floor.

“Hmmm?”

“You still practicing tattoos?”

Jester gave a little gasp. “Oh my gosh YES! I can-”

“Hair!” Kingsley yelled when he felt her start to move off the bed again. “Hair first!”

“Ack, okay, just-” There was a small scramble as she readjusted course, but soon enough she was back in place, Kingsley mercifully un-stabbed by flailing shears. “But you have to tell me what you’re thinking about!”

He laughed. “Okay, okay.”

His tail continued to tap on the floor as he thought, his left hand coming up to his chin. “So, we were just talking about names, right? And how Kingsley can be my virtue name, but I can still keep the other if I want?”

“Yeah?” Jester hadn't started cutting his hair again yet, too caught up in what he was saying.

He held his right hand up into her view, poking at the blank spot on its back. “I want to see if I can do something like that with these? If that makes sense? It sounded better in my head.”

A pause.

“... okay, I’m really sorry, I know you said hair first but I have to come back down there for this,” Jester said and she slid off the bed to plop down next to him, sketchbook somehow already in her hand. “Cause that idea is amazing and we gotta talk about it.”

Kingsley gave the most over the top sigh he could. “I guess I’m going to have half cut hair forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to forget what you’re thinking about!”

He bumped his shoulder into hers, grinning. “Nah, I getcha. Just know it’ll be even longer until I ask about that story,” he said, winking.

This time, he was actually able to see Jester pouting at that.

“Fiiiine. Now tell me about the tattoos!!”

“Alright, alright, I'm getting there,” he said with another laugh, shifting his position to where it was more comfortable to talk.

“Okay, so, I know part of the reason these tattoos are here was to hide the red eyes.” He held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers. “It's great that they're gone but I kinda want to give them just one more f-you by filling them in with my own thing, make it look like it was supposed to be like that all along.”

“Oooo, I like it,” Jester said, starting to sketch out a replica of the snake on his hand and the associated blank spot. “Do you know what you want in there instead?”

“Hmm. Not really? The idea just popped into my head, so-” He gave a shrug. “We know there's nine of them at least.”

“Neeeeein!” Jester’s response was almost entirely out of habit, but a moment later her eyes widened, Kingsley broke out into a grin, and the two of the pointed at each other at the same time.

“Mighty Nein!” It was together but not at all in unison and the two of them dissolved into muffled laughter.

“That sounded terrible! I love it!”

“I knooow!” Jester said and she broke into further giggles. “But that could be it! Something with the Mighty Nein!”

“Picture this,” Kingsley said, gesturing dramatically with his palms facing down. “Instead of the eyes of nine we have... the eyes of NEEEIN!”

“YES!” Jester pumped her arms into the air. “It could even be in everyone’s eye colors! And little hidden designs inside if we want to get fancy!”

“Oh we always want to get fancy,” Kingsley said, showing off a fanged grin.“That settles it! Operation replace eyes of nine with the Mighty Nein is a go!”

“Awesome!!” Jester whipped her sketchbook up in front of her, poised to start drawing. “Let’s start with your Mighty Nein eye!”

Kingsley lifted his hand, ready to throw out ideas - and hesitated.

“... actually, the red might make things a little weird.”

Jester winced. “Ooooh, right. Maybe not.”

“But!” Kingsley said, perking up, “Yasha has two eye colors. So it’d still work either way. I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah!” Jester nodded, some of her enthusiasm returning. “And we can totally figure out some other stuff for now.” She wrote down a few notes in her sketchbook. “Do you know where you’d want people? Like, matching with tattoos, who’s near each other, that sort of thing?”

“I think I’ve got a couple in mind?” He tapped the back of his neck, where he knew the gap in the all seeing eye tattoo was. “Beau’s can go here. Can’t let her get the last word, after all,” he said, grinning, but there was something vulnerable to it.

The first time he had made the connection between Beau’s tattoo and the one on the back of his own neck his feelings had been... mixed. Weirdly flattered, but also feeling like a bit of a cheat, like he was taking credit for something he didn’t deserve. Now, though, he knew that there was no obligation to it. While they’d had their hiccups the Mighty Nein weren’t going to sacrifice him on the pyre of memory, and they loved him for who he was.

Him adding to the tattoo, wrapping it back around to being a tribute to Beau, assigning his own meaning away from hiding the somnovem? Kingsley rubbed the back of his neck, smile now softer. It would be his. Still building off of who he’d been before, that was still part of him, but now it could be his.

“That’s the only one I know for sure, right now. But I’ll keep thinking on the rest.”

Another nod. “Okay! Do you want to get the tattoos as you think of them? Or all at once? And do you want to tell anyone else about it before you do it?”

“All at once, works better to make sure they fit. Plus I don’t want to get accused of playing favorites,” he said with another grin. “As for the other... hmm. Input is nice, but I do like surprising people. I’d say that’s another think about it.”

“Got it!” Jester said, and he saw her starting to sketch the all seeing eye tattoo beside the snake head. “This is going to be amazing.”

“Of course it will, you’re involved.”

Jester ducked down behind the sketchbook a little but she was smiling as well. “If you say sooo.”

“I do. And Jester?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He didn’t specify for what this time, but he figured it’d get through. There was still a lot he needed to figure out but now at least he had some new touchstones, the promise of even more in the future, and good company right in that moment. It was more than enough for him to be thankful for.

It did, however, seem like it was going to be awhile until he finished that haircut. But in the mean time...

“... okay, I’m too curious, Beau said I had to ask you about really early Xhorhas disguises?” Kingsley said and he saw Jester's face absolutely light up.

A few minutes later, over in his own cabin, Fjord swore and almost dropped something on his foot at Kingsley’s sudden loud cackling, and he just sighed and shook his head.

(Part Four)

35 notes · View notes

SEVENTEEN - WITCH OF THE WOODS

welcome to my first little “choose your own adventure” series!! lol

I will (obviously) not do these all at once, so stay tuned!!!

If you want a particular scenario or member (etc.) to be done first or added, feel free to drop a request in my asks!!

enjoy!!

Living out in the woods has its perks.

First off, nobody visits. Those who do have to be directed to your home, meaning you know them well. No salesmen, no solicitors, no Girl Scouts.

Second of all, nobody’s there to ask questions about the plumes of purple smoke that occasionally come out of your chimney or the screeching noises that bounce through the woods as you coax baby phoenixes out of their shells (they’re nasty when they’re young).

Third: you didn’t have to ever interact with a single human again if you didn’t want to. Not one little old lady digging her nose into where it didn’t belong, or calling the cops because your damn birds decided to have a screech-fest again. None. Zero.

Okay. Maybe they’re all the same reason. But still.

Peace, quiet, and privacy.

You have a few visitors, every so often. There’s Hongjoong, who visits once a month or so to get away from the rest of his pack (werewolves are so clingy sometimes and Wooyoung bites too much, apparently). He stays for a little food and some gifts for the others before slipping off into his wolf form to run back into the woods.

Felix visits often as well, his adventures requiring his plants be taken care of while he’s away. You’ve known the forest spirit since you were tiny, with his sun-dappled cheeks and healing smile- so he knows he can trust you with his precious babies while he goes to rescue some grove from humans with chainsaws. He sends Jeongin with the plants, sometimes, the siren swimming up the nearby stream to deliver them with a tiny wave, accepting a cookie or potion with a teeny “thank you” before swimming off again.

Chuu visits once in a blue moon, the faerie only stopping to trade potions and stories before hurriedly vanishing into the woods, sending a shimmering wave back as she eagerly continues her explorations to help the citizens of the forest.

And of course, your other witch friends, who often very exuberantly busted through your door at the most inconvenient times (looking at you, Mark and Jaemin). They’d pet your birds and help clean up your work station if it’s deemed too cluttered before leaving as quickly as they came, only stopping by on their way to the city (you never did really understand why they liked interacting with humans). They’d brought one to meet you once, a tall man named Johnny, who was (admittedly) very polite and handsome. He’d known witches before, so it was kind of cheating- he wasn’t a normal human free of any magical contact. Mark even admitted that they’d let Johnny help with spells (they’re insane).

But truly, it had been a long time since you’d met a real human. You’d heard stories, sure, but you preferred to keep to yourself in the woods. Witches weren’t much different than humans on a surface level, and often interacted with witches just fine without either party having a problem, but somehow being near humans made your skin prickle. Jaemin always joked that it was a soul connection, proving your most powerful magic was with interacting with humans, but you always shot him a glare before returning to your spells.

You prayed he wasn’t right. Finding your soul connection was a grueling process, and you enjoyed your mixed magics enough to ignore whatever instinctive calls you felt in your chest, wanting more time to enjoy and try all the options, see what magic sources you could tap into.

And that was the way things were, for a long time. You tended to your creatures, made potions and herb blends that multihued birds picked up to take back to their owners, and slept peacefully as the frogs croaked outside, your own version of a bustling city.

That is, until he arrived.

🌿 !! MAKE YOUR CHOICE !! 🌿

• seungcheol • jeonghan • joshua • junhui • soonyoung • wonwoo • jihoon • seokmin • mingyu • minghao • seungkwan • vernon • chan •

36 notes · View notes

Be My Baby

Summary: You finally have‘the talk’ with Henry.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x female reader

Warnings: Age gap, alcohol consumption, extreme fluff

You were more nervous that night than you had ever been in your life. You were finally having the talk with Henry. Or you thought you were going to. The boyfriend/girlfriend, what are we, where do you think we’re going talk. You had planned to go to a brewery that he liked and he’d wanted to show you, which seemed tame enough, and then it would probably end like always - a kiss at the door that would always turn into just a little bit more, no matter how tired he said he was.

“Okay, how do I look? Girlfriend material?” You asked your roommate as you put your earrings in, satisfied with your outfit after literal hours of trying to choose. Henry was just so, Henry - always put together, no matter how long he’d spent on set or how early he’d had to get up. That was one thing that you loved about him. He was honest about being exhausted, but he was always willing to go on whatever adventure you asked him to.

“Definitely,” your roommate giggled. You fixed your hair again until you heard your phone chime and Henry’s text said he was waiting outside. You quickly made your way down to the street and across it, seeing him flash his lights. His window rolled down and he smiled at you. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered for the first time since the last time he’d seen you.

“You look fantastic,” he said as you got in the car. You felt your skin get hot, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell, as you shut the door back. He turned to you and gave you a single sweet kiss, one that only broke as he smiled.

“So do you,” you said. “How was set?”

“I almost died only once,” he replied, holding his hand out. His knuckles were bandaged up, probably from getting cut by a sword.

“Oh my God, Henry!”

“It’s really nothing. The adrenaline just got me and I didn’t hear the c-word, so I didn’t stop.” He laughed at himself, shaking his head. You took his hand and rubbed your thumb over his knuckle, feeling the way he relaxed into your hold.

“Your hands are freezing, too, why don’t you turn your heat on?”

“Because I don’t want to have to charge my car.” You rolled your eyes, but giggled.

“First world problems, Henry. A week ago I wasn’t even sure I could pay for noodles.” That made him laugh, too. You knew he was obscenely rich from his movies and the show he was doing, but it was more of a funny joke between the two of you than anything that he was the rich guy and you were the poor, just out of university student. You’d met at a friend’s wedding a month and a half ago and he’d asked you out right then and there. You just... worked together, even though you weren’t really together. There were a few years between you, yes, and that had worried you at first. And you’d found out from walking in on your roommate watching the Witcher that Henry was an actor - he’d mentioned athletics and his brothers being in the military, so through your first date you assumed he’d done something like that. You didn’t have too much in common, but you found each other’s lives fascinating.

“You should’ve come to my house, I have so much food for one person and I need to stop eating it all.” You took his hand as he drove, your conversation quieting as you listened to the bad 80′s rock that Henry was listening to over the radio. You arrived in just a few minutes and got your drinks, finding a place to sit down. Your dates in the past had always sat across from you, but Henry always wanted to sit beside you. So you took a seat together on one of the couches facing a fire pit and drank, just catching up and talking. You didn’t get to see each other very much during the week except the occasional FaceTime call while he was bored in wardrobe and you weren’t doing anything at work.

The brewery played all 60′s music for some reason, and you weren’t mad. You listened to it a little as you drank, tuning out as Henry relayed one of the fight scenes out to you. You melted into pure giggles and curled slightly into his body when you realized that it was getting colder outside and your pumpkin beer was dwindling. The night was actually somewhat quiet - the fire in front of you burned and the air was slightly chilly and you knew that when you would arrive home that night you would be in a fog.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Henry started as he put his beer down on the little table in front of you, leaning back to then put his arm around your shoulder again.

“Hm?” You sat up a little bit, looking at him. One of his curls had fallen out and was astray on his forehead, and you squeezed your thumb into your fist to avoid pushing it up and possibly making things awkward.

“I like you a lot. A lot.” You grinned.

“I like you too, Henry.” He smiled at you saying his name. That was always a trigger for him - he always, always smiled when you said his name.

“And I know things are kind of complicated because of my job, and yours, but I kind of... don’t really care.” You giggled.

“Don’t care?” You asked, lifting your eyebrows.

“I mean, I don’t care about how complicated it is. I like you and I want to keep doing this. And it sounds incredibly juvenile coming out of my mouth while Be My Baby is playing, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Cavill,” you matched the beam on his face, but you couldn’t quite match the dimples on his cheeks and you couldn’t understand how you got this far with someone so... him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and let it go, allowing you to put your head on his shoulder.

“You’re okay with, everything, I guess, right? The photos and the...”

“It’ll be weird. But it’s worth you.” He took a pause.

“No one’s ever said that before,” he said as his smile faded.“Everyone’s always put up with it, but nobody’s... said it’s worth it.”

“I would do whatever running challenge you’re constantly talking about if it meant spending time with you, and you know how much I hate running.” His lips turned into a smile again and he put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it.

“You do hate running. But I promise, you could really benefit if you just, once a week...”Your conversation turned to other things but you were still reeling from his question, your insides feeling as if a rainbow had sprouted from your toes.

The brewery eventually closed, but you didn’t want to say goodbye. Neither did he. And you mentioned that you didn’t have to be anywhere the next day, so you went back to his house. You’d been there before, and you’d met his dog before, but it seemed a little different. A little more homey now that you knew that you were truly welcome there.

You took up his offer to borrow a shirt so you could change out of your nicer clothes, and in a few minutes the two of you were curled up on the couch. One of his hands was on you, the other on Kal’s head, as you watched some old movie he’d picked out. Youdidn’t care what it was, you were justeager to be in his arms.

“You’re gonna fall asleep,” he chuckled as you made yourself comfortable.

“I know. Wake me up when the movie’s over.” He let out a huff and put both of his arms around you, allowing you to fall asleep anyway. He eventually shook you awake.

“I didn’t mean to actually fall asleep.”

“I know. Let’s get you home.” You both sat up and you grabbed your clothes, too tired to really care that you were wearing your own bottoms but his top still, and went back out to his car. He turned the heat on high, toward you, and once again his hand made its way into yours.

“Be safe driving back,” you said as you started to get out of his car. He leaned toward you and kissed you, slowly but sweetly, and broke into a smile again.

“If you’re free tomorrow, you know where to come.” You smiled.

“Oh, you know I will.” You got out and walked into your apartment, trying not to wake your roommate up. The next morning, you awoke with a text from Henry - Hope you slept well! Now give me my shirt back 😉

A/N: I know this is short, but I had the idea and wanted to get it up!

Taglist: I’m starting over with my taglist, so if you’d like to be added send me an ask and I will add you!

333 notes · View notes

Part homage, all farce, the AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE! is an irreverent, affectionate parody of pop-culture tropes and a love-letter to 80s roleplaying games in a new, modern comic-book sized format! It’s a wacky roleplaying game of action comedy!

Hardcover collector's omnibus, softcover rules and adventures, blank ID cards, monster cards, hero role cards, VTT tokens

Are you a fan of the Ghostbusters RPG from the 1980s? Danger Mouse or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Bill & Ted or Rick & Morty? Back to the Future, Indiana Jones, Dracula, or sci-fi adventures on the final frontier? Do you enjoy chortling at TV tropes or chuckling at pop-culture parodies? Then the Awfully Cheerful Engine! is here for you!

ACE! is brought to you by Russ 'Morrus' Morrissey (EN World, WOIN, Judge Dredd & The Worlds of 2000 AD), Dave Chapman (Doctor Who, Star Trek Adventures), and Marc Langworthy (Hellboy, Judge Dredd & The Worlds of 2000 AD). With a foreword by Sandy Petersen, co-author of the Ghostbusters RPG!

ACE! is designed for everybody! From talking animals to pulp heroes to eldritch horrors, kids and adults alike will find adventures to love with the Awfully Cheerful Engine!

This tabletop roleplaying game, which we’re calling ACE! with an exclamation point, is one of fast, cinematic, action comedy. To play you need a handful of six-sided dice, a pen, and some paper. Each player plays one Hero, except for one player who takes the role of the Director.

Think of ACE! as an irreverent, fun-packed movie. You might play as ghost hunters in New York City, a band of plucky galactic guardians, vampire slayers, or soldiers of fortune in the Los Angeles underground. Heck, you might even be cartoon animals. Good grief!

This is a multi-dimensional, time-hopping, genre-mashing, pan-galactic portal into any type of adventure you can imagine! Want to play in a fantasy world full of elves and orcs? Crew a starship as it explores the galaxy? Hunt vampires in Victorian London? Play as animal detectives, robot cowboys, wizards, ninjas, or time traveling bounty hunters?

The only limit is your imagination, and the requirement that you have fun.

This Kickstarter is for the full five-book set.

What? Five books, you say? Fear not -- they're pretty small books! They include the core rules, and four hilarious genre-hopping adventures. Each book is about 30 pages long. Except for one which is longer, but we wrote 'BUMPER SIZE ISSUE' on the front of that, so it's OK. If you’ve ever held a comic-book in your hand, the Awfully Cheerful Engine! will feel very familiar!

The core rulebook is just 30 pages in a bright, colorful comic-book sized format. We even gave it an issue number, like a comic-book! After that, each 'issue' is a standalone adventure, designed for one-shots or short campaigns with new characters each time. One week you might be fighting ghosts on the streets of Manhattan, and the next you might be exploring the frontiers of space in your trusty starship!

You don't have to play them all, or in order. The standalone format means you can fit them in whenever and however you feel like it. GM can't make your regular game? Go bust some ghosts instead! Pickup game at a convention? Investigate the strange goings-on in a small American town in the 1980s. Running a livestream? Board a starship and fight the Kulkan Empire! Play one of them, some of them, or all of them! It's up to you!

Are they comics? Or are they RPGs? (They're RPGs)

ACE #1: Introducing the Awfully Cheerful Engine! With a foreword by Ghostbusters RPG author Sandy Petersen, this book tells you the rules, how to create your Heroes, and gives you a bunch of Extras (NPCs & monsters) to use. By Russ Morrissey.

ACE #2: Spirits of Manhattan. Strap on your Anti-Plasm Particle Thrower, grab your Electromagnetic Field Detector, and jump into your Ghostmobile. New York City needs your help! By Dave Chapman and Russ Morrissey.

ACE #3: Montana Drones & The Raiders of the Cutty Sark. At the request of Army Intelligence, Montana Drones and her team travel the globe in search of lost or hidden artefacts, often exploring dangerous sites and racing against hostile enemy agents to keep the objects of their quests from falling into the wrong hands. Striking locations, exciting chases, dangerous enemies and monotonous classroom lectures await! By Marc Langworthy.

ACE #4: Strange Science. Welcome to Wilden Falls, your average American town in the heart of the country. Surrounded by trees, nature, and there’s a wonderful waterfall that brings the tourists. It’s a quaint little town. Until weird things start happening at the local research facility, people go missing, and there’s a sudden influx of fitness nuts in the town. That’s before we get to the time travel, bodysnatching, and portals to other dimensions. Maybe ‘strange’ isn’t strong enough a word for it! By Dave Chapman.

ACE #5: Beam Me Up! These are the voyages of the starship FSS Brazen. Its continuing mission: to recklessly go where plenty of people have probably been before… and hope a major interstellar incident isn’t sparked in the process. In this highly illogical adventure for the ACE! roleplaying game, you’ll explore frontiers you never thought you had. By Marc Langworthy.

We give you four adventures to start with, and we have plans for more, but there's also a free compatibility license so anybody can write and publish material powered by the Awfully Cheerful Engine!

Hardy Hobbit. Teenage Samurai. Cheerful Stuntman. Clumsy Vampire. Squeamish Ghost. Who knew you could say so much in just two words? The possibilities are endless.

It’s not just Awfully Cheerful! It’s fast and fun, too!

You won’t get bogged down in endless rules and character sheets that look like tax forms. Your ACE! ID Card contains everything you need to know, and it’s only about the size of a credit card! But don’t try to spend it. It’s not a real credit card. Honestly, we tried, and it didn't end well.

You can download blank ID cards from our website. Don’t worry, there’s a printer-friendly black-and-white version too!

Making your Hero takes about five minutes. And that includes a coffee break.

You can choose from an array of talking animals, alien and fantasy species, and occupations from a bunch of genres. Play a cat, a crow, or a turtle. An alien, an elf, a robot, or a vampire. A knight, a pirate, or a wizard. An astronaut, a burglar, a reporter, or a spy. The core book has dozens of Roles to get you started with, and each adventure book introduces more!

Even better, you can already use our online character builder and make a character in about 30 seconds! It's so quick! Give it a try! And if you felt like sharing your Hero on Twitter with the hashtag #awfullycheerful and a link to this page, well, we'd be most awfully grateful!

Build your Hero online!

Alternatively, each adventure comes with its own selection of pre-generated characters. If you don't want to make your own characters, you can simply use those - perfect for one-shots or new players!

Download the pre-gens for all four adventures from the official website!

In A.C.E! each Hero (that's you!) has a Role. Your Role gives you a special ability only you can use. Here's a quick look at some of the Roles you can play!

Talking animals like Ape, Cat, Crow, Dog, Kangaroo, and Turtle.

Species like Alien, Dwarf, Elf, Ghost, Goblin, Golem, Hobbit, Monster, Ogre, Robot, Vampire, and Werewolf.

Fantasy roles like Alchemist, Assassin, Barbarian, Cleric, Druid, Knight, Ninja, Outlaw, Pirate, Ranger, Samurai, Slayer, and Wizard.

Occupations like Actor, Archeologist, Astronaut, Athlete, Bounty Hunter, Boxer, Burglar, Chef, Con Artist, Cowboy, Detective, Doctor, Engineer, Gambler, Gangster, Hacker, Hermit, Inventor, Musician, Pilot, Priest, Professor, Reporter, Scientist, Smuggler, Soldier, Spy, Student, and Stuntman.

Even a couple of superheroes like Speedster and Vigilante!

Yep, you can play a Ghost. You don’t take damage unless its from a holy source or some special sci-fi ecto-gadget. But you also can’t pick things up. So there’s that.

Each of the adventures adds some more Roles (or recommends some old ones)!

Spirits of Manhattan adds Ghost, Demonologist, Doctor, Engineer, Exorcist, Inventor, Priest, Professor, Scientist, and Student.

Raiders of the Cutty Sark adds Botanist, Double-Agent, Socialite, and Witch.

Strange Science adds Brain, Cheerleader, Outsider, Protector, Radio Presenter, and Tycoon.

Beam Me Up adds Captain, Chief Engineer, Comms, Hologram, Gunner, Counsellor, and Pilot.

ACE! is a pretty fast, light game. If you played 1986's Ghostbusters RPG, you'll see the influence immediately.

Stats! The AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE! is a d6 dice pool system*. You have four Stats -- Smarts, Moves, Style, and Brawn. If you have a Moves score of 3, you roll three six-sided dice when you try to jump a motorcycle over a ravine. If you roll high enough, you succeed. It's pretty simple!

Focuses! For each Stat you also have a Focus. For Smarts it might be a science, or chess, or history. For Style it might be bluffing, singing, or fashion, and for Brawn it might be brawling or swimming. You can choose from plenty of focuses. Foci. Focuses. Whatever. Anyway, if the thing you're trying to do relates to a Focus, you get to roll an extra two dice.

Trait! You choose a trait, like Angry or Cheerful or Rebellious or Despondent. This, combined with your Role, makes you a Gullible Vampire, a Brave Turtle, or a Squeamish Scientist.

Karma! Finally, you have a bunch of Karma points. These can be spent for extra dice or to absorb damage from attacks, and they're recovered by using your trait.

*Fun fact -- did you know that 1986's Ghostbusters RPG, by Sandy Petersen, Lynn Willis and Greg Stafford, was the first ever dice pool RPG? Also Sandy Petersen has written an awesome foreword for the AWFULLY CHEERFUL ENGINE!

What, I hear you ask, is a CALAMITY DIE?

The Calamity Die is how you find out that your friends really aren't your friends. You see, when you make a roll, one of those dice is a different color, and is called the Calamity Die. And if your roll fails, and also the Calamity Die rolls a 1, your so-called 'friends' decide what happens to you. It won't kill you or anything, but...

Well, we'll leave that thought with you.

Nooooo! And it was all going so well!

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, June 18 2021 10:00 PM BST

Website: [Awfully Cheerful Engine] [EN Publishing] [facebook] [twitter]

36 notes · View notes

@ava-sr said: EE i do apologize that this is late, but maybe a small request because of my moblit-brainrot. which dates he would like to take you on? maybe like one of those guided painting classes? aGh all i know is that man is the absolute sweetest and i love him with all my heart

Types of dates with Moblit pt.1

{ Moblit x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Vanitas Still Life" 1662 by Edwaert Collier c. 1640 - after 1707 London or Leiden }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday.

I. Cuddling for hours at a time

you have to understand that in Moblit's overworked and stressful life, moments of respite are rare and far. He's so deprived of touch and love that it's a miracle how he has managed to function without even a beep. The thought of having someone to warm his bed, cradle his worries and put them to rest by simply combing through his hair, never crossed his mind despite having a hundred thoughts running through it per minute.

Some days he manages to forget your existence even, not out of some selfish desire or to belittle you, but out of disbelief, after all it's too good to be true.

You're too good to be true to him.

Your tender words pull him back each time he blindly steps closer to the edge, a never-ending spiral of self-destructive work tendencies awaiting him at the bottomless abyss. Your warm embrace shutting out the swarm of nagging voices meant to guilt him out of rest, to act as if the key to curing his sleep deprivation was to not acknowledge its existence, that fatigue symptoms could be erased by his own homemade placebo remedies.

As if your mere touch could turn anything to gold, and in his case, it did.

It was what made the difference between an anxiety inducing catastrophic day, and a mere rough stepping stone he could easily manoeuvre around leaving his pace steady and undisturbed.

Reminding that it's okay to fail, to give something your best only for it to crumble to dust. It's a process of trial and error, it takes time and patience.

You don't get to choose how well things end up working out, it's not up to you nor is it your place.

And that's why for him, his ideal place in the world is in your arms, to simply let the rise and fall of your chest lull him into comfortable numbness. His features softening as the oxytocin levels rise, courtesy of your warm embrace, soft skin providing just the right pressure against his own.

Laying on your shared bed together, the soft breeze coming from the open windows moves the thin curtains. Moblit is Holding you close as one of his arms sneak around you, fingertips tracing shapes up and down your back. Face buried in your shoulder as yours rests on top of his head, stray hairs almost tickling your nose when you brush against them.

The passing of time does little to his cotton filled mind, occasionally attempting to pull you even more closer as if it's possible. Legs tangled with yours under the heavy blanket despite him hogging most of it.

Every now and then, when a certain amount of time passes, he'd look at you with half-closed eyes, a lidded look of satisfaction before murmuring in his sleepy voice.

"Do you want to get up?" And despite his sincere words and warm tone, his body makes no move to detach itself from your side.

Does he know the soothing effect of the circles he keeps drawing up your back? Or how much him talking with his lips still pressed against your neck makes you melt just a bit.

Whatever it is, Moblit seems confident in his ability to keep you snuggled against him, tucked underneath the warm blanket and fluffy pillows almost muffling your answer.

II. Visiting a music bar

Preferably something with soft yellowish lights, small enough spaces not meant for dancing but to create an intimate atmosphere akin to a music venue.

A jazz club, maybe a brewery.

Dimmed sunlight seeping through the thin curtained window, shadow traces of people smoking outside while making small talk, cushioned bar stools placed around the long bar with a mirrored wall behind it as several aged bottles and fancy glasses with signatures decorate the wooden shelves.

The quiet chatter of people blurring behind the mellow music the band is playing on the nearby stage, smooth movement with relaxed postures as if they've done this a hundred times before, and they probably have.

You're sitting in one of the booths near the window, a private spot where you're far enough for people not to notice yet close enough to still hear the music flowing.

The beat is slow, hypnotising even that the minutes blur together.

Moblit giving you a smile as he comes back with your drinks, sitting opposite of you before handing you the cold glass, ice cubes clinking against each other as you raise the frosted rim to your lips, sugary sweet filling your senses, the cooling sensation of the drink slides down your throat.

There's a hint of citrus in it.

You've learned to trust Moblit's choice in drinks after being together for so long, he just knows what's going to taste good and which kind of drink you seem to need without having to say a word.

He seems comfortable here, even referring to the bartender by his name like they've been friends for a while, and maybe they have judging by the out-of-script welcoming he gave Moblit.

One conversation starts another and both of you find it so easy to talk to each other without boundaries or second thoughts, the smiles and occasional chuckles almost never leaving your features while nursing on your drinks.

He tells you stories from his work and about his co-workers. You find yourself entranced by his seemingly abusered line of work and the amount of chuckle worthy instances a single work day can offer.

That one time Hange knocked the liquid incense oils that someone Levi brought to freshen the place, well to their luck the oils fell directly on an open flame from the nearby scented candle which resulted in the fire spreading through the liquid alcohol between the broken glass.

And despite the feeling of dread, from seeing his files catch on fire this story brings him, the sound of your chocked laughter as you almost spilled your drink over your clothes, made it all worth it for him.

III. Antique shop

There was something to be said about Moblit's yearning for especially old looking things, trinkets, crumpled maps, tea stained letters and silvered mirrors.

You can't miss the gleam in his eyes as he opens the antique store door open for you the chime of the door bells following after. The smell of burning incense lingering in the air alongside the slow ticking of an old wooden clock.

The look on his face is of pure fascination, his eyes following the trail of the objects lined on the tables, from the old oil paintings with hand carved frames to the crystals reflecting sunlight next to the colourful stones. Observing as he carefully walks behind you through the narrow spaces between the tables and shelves.

Pulling your attention whenever he finds a particular curious thing to show you as if it's an offering, it can range from music boxes with a really familiar melody that you can't quite remember or a beautifully shaped rose quartz stone that feels cool against your palm.

Whatever he brings, it often manages to intrigue you in some way. Moblit could always notice things other people would skip over otherwise, scanning the tables was like a small treasure hunt.

He'd always pick one or two leather journals, almost filled to the brim with ink scribbled pages and tea stained spots, personal diaries dating back to the 90's and if he's lucky they might edge towards the 80'. He likes to read them, live in someone else's shoes even for a split second, puzzle pieces falling in place as he figures out what kind of person the author was.

Of course sharing his discoveries with you while having lunch later, not out of pride nor to show off, but out of genuine respect to other people's lives and their dedication for leaving behind a piece of their soul.

IX. Roadtrip

It's something he plans months ahead in advance, he genuinely wants to make the best out of the few weeks off both of you got to spend together. Making sure to plan a set of destinations, preparing snacks and food, packing your essentials and renting a big enough van.

A small getaway even, to completely leave everything behind and set out on a carefully planned adventure with the one he loves most, you.

Enjoying the fresh weather, the high sun and fast wind as both of you roll down the windows, fields of green and yellow meet you alongside the road the further away you move from the city.

Although be careful; the Moblit behind the wheel is a much much more different than the one you know, he's using all what remains of his self-restraint not to speed down the highway and swirl, the thought crosses his mind every hour or so and he's visibly agitated when you're forced to drive behind a particularly slow driver.

You might even have to remind him of the speed limit occasionally just so you don't end up with a pile of speeding tickets at the end of the trip.

It's like all his usually cautious and calculating demner evaporates into mist the second he touches the steering wheel, Temptations of just flooring it while high on adrenaline still linger in the back of his mind.

Beside that, the trip is a relatively calm one as you get to bask in all the new and different places you'll get to visit. Try new food and walk through different city streets, just the experience of something out of the usual is enough to satisfy Mobilt. Not to mention the fact he gets to experience it with you and just wander around without a purpose or care as long as you're together.

He'll definitely keep in mind what sort of things you seem to like, what intrigues you and the kind of reactions you show. He even started an album filled with mostly your pictures and the things you've seen.

It's most relaxing and filled with low stakes, nothing too fancy but nothing too boring either. Walking the thin line perfectly.

X. Visiting a museum

But not just any museum you see, one centred around natural history. Displaying everything from ancient fossils to full on skeleton displays of a 122 foot titanosaur, depictions of distant relatives of homosapiens and modern evolution trees of the current animals.

Moblit guiding you through the shiny tile floor and between the exhibits while holding your hand, eyes gleaming with passion as he goes on and on about each thing you glance at. Making all the trivial facts seem more fascinating than they have any right to be.

The squeaking sound of footsteps echoing on the too clean floors as four children pass you by, racing each other towards the iron suits of armour on display. They almost fall over the red ropes from leaning too close in, their caregiver seemingly busy talking with a security guard over the 'smoking not allowed' sign.

You spare them a final glance before following Moblit through the corridor leading to the world history & old inventions section. Soon enough he steals your attention again as he begins talking about the first airplane prototype that you can't help but be enamoured by.

Despite there being a sign framed on the wall that sums up the jest of Moblit's lecture, he manages to make it not only less boring but add his own twist and uncommon known facts to it that it feels less of a history trip and of an interesting conversation.

He has so much knowledge that he's so eager not to only share but hear your own opinion and take on it, valuing your view no matter what amount of knowledge you have over the subject.

XI. Painting together

It's an idea that you offhandedly suggested after your museum visit, after all spending an hour in the Impressionism era gallery did leave an impression on you. And so the suggestion of checking out an art store for some acrylics and a couple brushes left your lips on the way home without a second thought.

Well little did you know that the small suggestion managed to latch into Moblit's brain for weeks after, making him spend his free time searching and gaining information on painting and how to start, he even managed to find some really good classes having a limited time course sale

That's how both of you end up in a guided painting class, seated next to each other with aprons on and a pallet to mix paint tubes in. You'll find out how much of a fast learner Moblit is, so much that most of the class he spends guiding your hand through the steps and offering his help whenever possible, although he still remembers not to be overbearing and still gives you space.

Both of you are in your own bubble from the class, being with him makes you feel easy and more reassured. He's like your very own comfort corner that you seek in every party, except that he can walk around with you and always looks out for you.

And whatever you end up putting on that canvas, Moblit will cherish more than any renaissance painting, will even insist on hanging it somewhere in the apartment.

47 notes · View notes