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eternally--mortal · 11 months

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One of my many time travel headcanons slots into the irondad—spiderson corner of the Marvel fanverse. I love Spider-Man and his stories, but I also suffer from visceral second-hand embarrassment and second-hand pain of seeing someone neglected or abandoned or alone, so most of my voluntary interactions with the Spider-Man/Marvel fan sphere come from the warm and fuzzy and emotionally rewarding sections with Tony and Peter becoming family. I know there are some arguments about how realistic that may or may not be to the movies, but I don’t really care. I love that those fan fictions and fan arts exist and I embrace them because they’re my favorite way of intaking that particular corner of media. So if you’re on that same page with me, enjoy my little private time travel headcanon:

In a Universe where Tony survives, Beck would have to curb his plans. They wouldn’t have formed the same way. For one thing, the drones and the glasses wouldn’t have been accessible through Peter / Tony’s will. For another, Peter would have been immediately more obviously tied to Tony, because Tony wouldn’t want to let him out of his sight after saving the world for Peter. In this version Tony and Pepper essentially adopt Peter and share informal joint custody with May. Peter gets to be Morgan’s older brother and he eventually sees Tony as his dad. They take their time to adjust: Peter has time to settle after the snap and find a new equilibrium, and the group of them develops a normal family routine. There’s definitely an optional version of this where Harley’s there as well because I have a soft spot for that, but this is mostly about Peter and Morgan (sorry Harley. You’re awesome, I just didn’t imagine you in the bulk of this story).

Beck’s team takes longer to get their shit together—partially as a plot device to allow Peter to adjust enough to call Tony “dad” and partially because Tony isn’t dead in this version, so their plans have to be different.

When the public figures out that Tony has a ‘son’—one that’s just as smart as he is—Beck and his crew decide not to go directly after the drones. They go for the kids instead. They figure ‘hey, if the rumors are true and the brat is just as smart as Tony, he can build whatever we want him to. If not, we can use the kids as leverage to get what we want.’ They go after Peter and Morgan and steal some of Tony’s super-secret-recently-invented time travel technology and hop around the space time continuum for a little bit. They don’t realize that Peter is Spider-Man because they’re convinced he’s Tony’s son and have fixated on that rather than on the fact that Peter might be a superhero (since Tony so obviously considers him a son they didn’t do as much digging into ‘why on earth would Tony Stark take interest in this random kid?’). But Peter doesn’t know whether he should play his hand as Spider-Man. They keep him separated from Morgan most of the time and he has to keep her safe because they’re threatening him with her. Peter doesn’t want to take the risk that he’ll escape and they’ll portal away with Morgan somewhere/when where he can’t find them.

Beck and his crew haven’t tried to reach out to Tony yet. They’re pretty confident that they can use Morgan to get whatever they want out of Peter instead. And besides that, Beck really just wants to make Tony suffer, so he figures taking his kids somewhere unreachable is the best way to do that. But he also wants to be able to watch Some version of Tony, just to remind himself of whom he’s torturing. So after hop-skip-jumping their way through the time stream, Beck takes them back in time to just after the Avengers saved the world from Loki—or some other convenient time within the span of movies. There’s some flexibility there. (The watches work for all of these trips. It’s possible that Peter and Tony revisited the tech to eliminate Pym Particles as an energy source. Maybe Beck’s team of engineers found another power source. Or maybe they just have a huge stash of particles. I don’t know. I didn’t really think about that part of the story. This is really mostly just background.)

Peter wants to lessen the risk of being more permanently separated from Morgan, he wants to make it easier for Tony to find them, AND he likes that they’re in a time period where he can reach some version of the Avengers. So he sneaks out while they’re trying to make him build something and he sabotages all of the time bracelets so they can’t be used again.

The real meat of the story comes with the back-in-time Avengers. Tony gets an odd transmission that he can’t open (because Peter sent it to JARVIS in the hopes that His version of Tony would find it and see it in the future and would know when and how to come back and get them). Then the Avengers run into the future version of Tony who shows up in the past. Younger Tony gets super suspicious, and he and the other Avengers assume that this is some super villain using a copy of the Ironman suit.

Beck’s crew may also have done something to get them on Team Cap’s radar, and Cap may be investigating some of their movements as potential remnants of Hydra or something else equally suspicious. Especially since Beck’s crew may have been too bold entering into this part of the timeline when they assumed they’d have access to an escape (before Peter broke the bracelets).

Finally the Avengers have a run-in where they see Tony’s face. Maybe they even catch him and drag him back to Avengers Tower (which of course he would know how to control / escape). He won’t tell them what’s going on because he takes one look at his younger self and sees a traumatized man with narcissistic tendencies who is Not ready to be a father. So he just tells them that Beck “stole something from me” and to “not get involved.” He plays up some of his familiar bravado and ego so they won’t dig too far into what exactly Beck might have stolen.

Meanwhile Beck is getting fed up with Peter, for obvious reasons. They’re trying to get him to fix the bracelets on Top of everything else they wanted him to do, but he keeps stalling for time. Beck keeps almost catching him recording covert videos, and before Peter has the chance to upload and send any more of them, the crew packs up and ditches the base where they were originally holding the kids. Peter and Morgan are now stuck in the past together, but Peter’s finding fewer and fewer opportunities to escape with her without revealing himself, and now that they’re in the past he’s afraid that Beck might discover his identity and go after Peter’s younger self as well before he even has the spider bite. Besides that, none of Beck’s team realizes how much food Peter needs to eat to stay functional. And when he’s difficult they do things like withhold food (which is a problem for his metabolism), withhold heat (when he can’t thermoregulate, so it’s basically like drugging him because it makes his body think it has to hibernate), actually drug him, etc. He’s hedging between causing problems to make life difficult for Beck, playing at good behavior in order to get more time with Morgan, actually practicing semi-good behavior to buy some time for Tony to come get them, and trying to formulate a better escape plan. And when Beck relocates them to an old Hydra base, Peter decides not to take any risks about showing off his spider powers.

The Avengers team breaks into Beck’s old base after the relocation. Cap is convinced that Tony made some stupid world-ending tech that’s going to get them all killed and that That is what Beck stole. That, or it’s just the time travel tech. To be fair, Tony is also pretty convinced that it’s some sort of tech, and he’s fairly invested in finding out what future-y stuff his older self is being so cagey about. They find evidence of a lab with mechanical parts (tools and pieces that they gave Peter to try and get him to build things, etc.). But Nat comes across a room with a blanket in the corner and a couple crayon drawings and does the whole “Guys, maybe we’re on the wrong trail here” bit about how maybe they don’t really know what’s been stollen. Tony gets what he can out of the computer and takes it back to the tower to decode.

A week later he’s de-encrypted the files enough to access some of the videos that Peter made and saved behind some walls of coding.

There are little snippets that show Peter stalling for time, ones that show some of the repercussions of his sabotaging the watches, etc. There are videos that show how much Beck’s team is treating him as a stupid normal kid and trying to manipulate him in a variety of ways—sometimes with Morgan, sometimes with violence or bribery.

A video where Peter wonders if he should be building something to appease them because they’re not feeding him and he needs to see Morgan, and how he wants to hold out, but Dad he’s not sure he’s going to be able to if it means Morgan might get hurt. How he promises to take care of her.

There are videos of Peter being a little shit and pulling tricks behind Beck’s back to mess with the tech.

A video of Peter looking a little better and Morgan sitting there assisting him and handing him the right tools before he can finish asking for them. They sing a little Italian at each other (in this version May taught Peter some Italian and Tony taught Morgan and Peter some as well). Morgan tells Peter “that’s not the way Daddy builds it.” And Peter has to tell her that they don’t have dad’s stuff at their disposal. (They’re sneakily building an E.M.P. instead of whatever Beck wants. That’s why Peter had to stash the thumb drive so it wasn’t hooked up to the computer system. Unfortunately Beck gets wind of it and figures out what they’re doing before they can use it. He’s noticed the Avengers sniffing around which is why they ditch their original base.) There’s definitely a moment in a video somewhere where they’re talking about Pepper (calling her ‘mom’) and how she would be able to stop Beck maybe even more easily than Tony—Peter says it as a Half-joke to make Morgan feel hopeful—and Peter says “can you do your mom impression?” And Morgan’s face transforms into this little deadpan look and she goes “No, Tony.” And they both laugh and joke about how Pepper would just tell Beck “No” and take them home. And then we see Beck storm in and discover the E.M.P. and throw it into the corner where it smashes (which is how the Avengers find it when they investigate), and we watch Morgan get dragged off screaming and Peter screaming back for her and trying to talk down Beck while Beck is pulling the whole ‘I thought letting you work with your sister would make you behave, but obviously I can’t trust the two of you together’ bit. He says shit like ‘you’re a worse brat than your dad’ and insults their whole family and says some nasty things about Tony and then about Peter and Morgan all while he’s ordering his people to shut the place down and clear out. Beck figures out that Peter’s been recording all of this after his team drags the kids out and he leaves a nasty message for Tony about how he’s going to pay, blah blah blah, how he’s never going to get his kids back. Something dramatic.

Obviously there’s some backlash in the team to Tony finding out that he’s a dad or that he’s going to be. They try to do some calculating to figure out when he’s going to have Peter (since they assume he’s a bio kid), but some of that is messed up by the fact that they don’t know about the snap or the five years that Peter lost. It’s generally chaos. They’re also a little more rushed to figure this out now that they know that there are kids involved. (They also don’t realize that Peter has powers, but it shouldn’t really matter because he’s a kid anyway.)

(At some point there would also be a conversation later when they meet up with Older Tony where someone suggests that Younger Tony just deal with Beck in the present time to avoid all of this so that Older Tony can explain how time travel doesn’t work like that and that This future version of Beck is already set the way he is, likely on a deviant path from their own Beck.)

Beck super mad that the time watches are broken and that the Avengers are on their tail. He rigs up the Hydra base and uses some of his hologram tech to manipulate the kids into thinking they’re being rescued when they’re not (either just to be an asshole or to try and get Peter to fix the watches through manipulation), or to show Peter a hologram of Morgan when she’s not in the room and vice versa to mess with them. At one point he possibly makes Peter think he’s shooting Morgan or something as a form of punishment for Peter not cooperating. There’s a large variety of evil that Beck is frankly willing to dip into to psychologically mess with these kids (and Tony by extension).

Older Tony and the Avengers end up working together to go save Peter and Morgan, which could honestly go a variety of ways. But I like the idea that Peter and Morgan are integral to the escape somehow, by building something or by Morgan remembering something important or by Peter using his smarts or his powers just a little. Younger-Tony gets handed Morgan (by another hero, against his will) at one point while Older Tony is in another room on the other side of the base trying to negotiate with Beck who’s threatening to kill Peter (something like that), and Morgan calls him Mr. Stark or Tony instead of Dad or Daddy because “You’re not my Dad yet” and makes a comment about how there isn’t enough gray in his hair. And he’s not really sure how to respond to her so they’re kind of strangers to each other.

Morgan possibly mentions something about ‘why didn’t you bring Uncle Bucky?’ and Steve just about has a heart attack, and Peter has to defuse it like ‘I don’t think they know about Uncle Bucky yet.’

Beck and his crew are taken into custody. Peter and Morgan get some time in the med bay for recovery. We get to see them interact with JARVIS (which is a little odd because they usually just have FRIDAY). The Avengers get to see Tony being a dad—even if he’s a little cagey about it around the super hero team. There are allusions to him being married to Pepper (without them directly saying it). Peter and Tony fix the time watches (without letting JARVIS see the schematics, because we can’t have an earth-conquering robot knowing how to traverse space-time), and they go home. (Either that or we involve Harley, who’s possibly been home with Pepper this whole time and did not get kidnapped because having all three kids would have driven Beck over the edge. And Harley took care of the technology from his end and ended up altering the tech to open a doorway instead of just using the watches. Not canon compliant, but I don’t know that I mind it as an option. Because, again, The Feels are more important to me for this particular story.) There’s definitely a little moment somewhere in their stay at the tower in the past with the Avengers where Peter wants to drink coffee or something and Tony tells him ‘thanks, no, I’ll take that’ and then asks Morgan to do a Mom (Pepper) impression, so Morgan turns to Peter and goes “No,” and Peter responds with “traitor” or something. I don’t know I think it would be cute.

And then there’s just the aftermath. Peter has Aunt May and MJ and Ned waiting for him when he gets back home. There’s family time with Pepper (and maybe Harley???). All those good vibes. Back in time there’s an acknowledgement of the fact that Tony is a whole-ass person who will grow and develop. Cap wants to go look for Bucky. And the seed has been planted that something is going to go wrong with JARVIS. Tony wonders if Peter’s out there somewhere and was possibly a child of one of his one night stands. Things like that.

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #marvel Spider-Man #mcu spiderman headcanon #mcu headcanon #marvel headcanon #marvel fanfiction #Tom holland’s Spider-Man #I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while because then No Way Home came out #and I was depressed all over again and reminded that the way I like to view Peter’s story is not how it’s portrayed in film #and how it’s also super tragic in the comic books and in ever iteration of his story #that doesn’t mean I don’t like the films #but I’m really glad that the fandom has this corner to it #it’s been a valuable fan experience for me and has been personally healing in a lot of ways #it’s rewarding to see Tony as a parent for Peter #I’ve had this one in my head for a while #I’m sure there are scenes I’ve thought of that I’m forgetting now #or that I’ve smushed together or altered #and I know I had some alternate storyline scenes and moments when I was first considering it #I just don’t remember them now #stories I don’t have the energy to write but that live rent free in my head #let Peter and Morgan be siblings #Let Tony be Peter’s dad #I love them #they’re a lil family #time travel au #I have too many of these I know #it’s my trope weakness

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY TWO

in which eddie is honest. for real, this time.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, discussion of/allusions to smut from last chapter, angst, not edited (what's new though), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.1k+

→ a/n: welp. this... yeah, this is a lot. i truly hope it's worth it. in the waiting, anticipation, and length. if it isn't... my bad. i'm sorry in advance. also, please note, pov change only applies to the memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

22:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

—

HOUR TWENTY TWO – 1:00 PM

You can’t speak. It’s as if you’re frozen; every muscle, including your tongue, has gone rigid. Every racing thought escapes just beyond your reach. Every single one of the last twenty two hours pound behind your rib cage, and you think you might just faint. Right here, right now. The blood rushes your ears as your body goes ice cold, and even the railing cutting into your palm seems to drift away from you.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t even try to deny it. He knows you heard what he said – he can’t take it back. It’s written plainly on his face that if he could, he would swallow back down those disastrous words. He’d grab that destruction four letter word right out of the air, no doubt, and set it aflame. He’d blow away the ash if he could guarantee you would have never heard it.

But he can’t. You heard him.

I’ve loved you for so long.

Everything is heavy. The air, your limbs, your godforsaken tongue.

“Say something,” he suddenly begs. You’ve never seen Eddie look so desperate, eyes wet and voice cracking, “Anything.”

You want to answer him. Your bones ache with the need – the need to reply, the need to question, the need to do anything but stare at him with what he must surely mistake for horror.

Were you horrified? Were you?

You don’t know.

It’s why you can’t answer him.

“I-” he starts up again, breaking down even further right before your eyes. You want to reach out, to coddle him, to tell him it’s fine. But it’s not fine.

You don’t even get the chance to ruminate on just how not fine it is, or that heat beginning to come to a boil in the pit of your stomach, because the sound of one of the neighbors exiting out onto their own balcony interrupts the infinitely delicate moment.

“Hey there, Eds-” You don’t know what actually interrupts the gruff man that steps out, who exudes familiarity with Eddie until he takes in the scene before him.

Eddie, completely fucking naked. You, with only a shirt on. If it weren’t for the moment at hand and the trembling emotions coming to fruition inside of you, you’d probably find it comical. You’d probably find a way to join in the old man’s single guffaw before the two of you meet each other’s gaze and become aware of what exactly is happening.

But it’s not funny. You’re both fucking naked — physically and emotionally — and it’s not funny.

You’re mortified as both of you are scrambling across the balcony, a whirlwind of discarded clothes fisted and nearly tripping over each other to shove back into Eddie’s living room. That embarrassment now trickles down into the start of a boil, everything in you becoming red-hot from how flustered you’ve become and the way you can’t have a second to just process it all.

When you turn to face Eddie once the sliding door has slammed shut, his cheeks are the brightest pink imaginable.

“What the fuck,” you whisper out, trying to steady your breathing, trying to take it all in.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your adrenaline is almost making you sick.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he catches your whisper amongst your stoic silence and seems to forget the moment that his neighbor had just shattered, voice clear as day as he pulls his curtains shut. You swear you catch the old man still staring, still laughing, and you’re just grateful that you’re not the one completely nude, “I had no idea Mr. Jenkins would come outside, usually none of those fuckers see the light of day before sundow-”

“Your neighbor just saw us naked,” you almost scream. You want to shout, want to throw everything in sight. You crave to flip that coffee table in the center of the room and throw a fit that outdoes even the most petulant of toddlers.

“I know, I-“

“If you say sorry again, I’m walking back out there,” you take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm you’re shaking body, “And I’m throwing myself off the fucking balcony.”

Maybe you’ll be able to laugh about it in five years. A year, even. Hell, a month or as soon as next week. But you can’t right now; all you want to do is cry.

Some random man just saw you naked. Eddie apparently fucking loves you.

It might be the sleep deprivation and it might be the fact that it feels like the Universe is laughing in your face at every turn right now. Whatever higher power exists seems to be waiting around every corner for the chance to kick you repeatedly as you stumble to this finish line. And you can’t fucking take it.

So you give in. You give in to that childish need to stomp your feet and scream until you’re blue in your lips.

“I just- Fuck!” Eddie jumps a bit at your exclamation, he’s still naked, “I can’t catch a break! I can’t catch a fucking break. First, I’m showing up here, and I’m stuck with you for twenty four hours. I’m stuck with the man I hate for a whole fucking day,” you’re full on pacing, not caring how ridiculous this scene would appear to anyone. Your hands wave erratically in the space around you, and all Eddie can do is stare, tense with wide eyes, “And I cry in front of you, have full breakdowns in front of you. I listen to you remind me over and over how much you truly despise only to now suddenly find out that, hey! I actually love you! And do I get to process that? No. Because now, some fucking old man that lives next door to you has seen my goddamn vag-“

Eddie’s entire demeanor collapses. “Oh, so now I’m back to being the man you hate?”

You pause your ranting, realizing what you’ve said.

You’re just angry. You should have thought before you spoke, before you opened your mouth and began to spew your venom, because you can see the way the words have struck Eddie. Not your intention.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said that,” he flatly argues back.

Your stomach twists.

“I’m just-“ your tongue is back to being heavy as the two of you face one another. Feet apart, worlds apart. “I’m fucking embarrassed, Eddie.”

“You think I’m not?” he scowls, and you try to tell your racing heart it’s a good sign. But it’s not. You almost preferred his walls dividing the two of you, “Shit fucking happens. We got caught — we fucking dirty talked about getting caught! Big fucking deal! Karmic justice or whatever bullshit people spew. It doesn’t mean I’m going to- It doesn’t change-“ he’s stuttering now, matching that exasperation that had you pacing just moments before. He huffs, a hand reaching up and dragging his bangs upward, harsh at the root as he finally drops his hands in his own defeat, palms slapping his sides, “Everything changes. You said that, not me. You said everything changes, and all it takes is a little bit of fucking embarrassment to go back on your word?”

He’s still fucking naked. You still can’t think.

“I’m not having this conversation with you naked,” you whisper, almost in disbelief as you shake your head, “I’m- Put your fucking clothes on. Please.”

“Put my clothes on?” he scoffs, taking a step closer to you, “Put my clothes on? Do you mean the same clothes you just insisted I take off not even ten minutes ago?”

“We were having sex!” you yell. You’re sure if the old man is no longer on his balcony, he can hear you through the walls. Hell, even if he is still outside, it’s likely he hears the screaming match beginning, “Why- Why are you turning this on me right now? You just said you fucking love me! The least of our issues right now is me telling you to get fucking dressed!”

“Why are you lashing out at me right now?” Eddie’s voice is louder than yours, something more broken inside of it, “I-“

“Clothes,” you grit out, avoiding his eyes as you start to yank your panties on violently, “Now.”

You can still feel him. His essence is dripping between your thighs. And you don’t find any sense of enjoyment in it, you don’t savor that quick-fading warmth nor the reminder of the pleasure he’d just brought you. It just reminds you of the words he had said all while not even looking you in the eyes. He couldn’t even face you as he had admitted it.

One thing at a time, you try to remind yourself. One fucking thing at a time.

Eddie’s own redressing is another sight that maybe, hopefully, one day you’ll look back on and laugh at. But right now, it can’t spark any amusement in you. Not as all your emotions slam back into you at full force.

You’re embarrassed. You’re confused. You’re angry.

“Happy?” he spits out once his boxers are on, shirt tugged back on so hard over his head that his curls frizz up.

“No,” your eyes are burning, and you feel it again. All those desperate emotions. Like a wild animal inside of you has begun to claw at your insides, making you bleed from the inside out.

Eddie loves you — and he has, for a long time, apparently.

Eddie’s neighbor has seen you naked. Saw your full bottom half exposed.

You’ve managed to hurt Eddie’s feelings, again.

Eddie fucking loves you and never thought to mention it. He has for a long time.

All your tempered strings snap, that wild and stricken thing inside of you finally cutting loose.

You don’t know what you’re angry at. You’re angry at him, and yet you’re not. You’re angry at the situation, and yet you’re not. You are bitter from words withheld and you are sour from every moment that paves the road that brought you two to this very moment.

You’re just angry.

“What did you mean?” the question comes out sharply enough to make his own defiant anger fade ever so slightly as he physically flinches, “I- I need to know what the Hell you meant, Eddie.”

Anger is metallic on your tongue. It seeps from your skin, floods the air, only further dampens everything already so heavy.

The longer he doesn’t answer you, the more smothering the entirety of the apartment becomes.

“Just tell me. Make it make sense, because right now?” you pause for a deep and shaky breath. Your eyesight is blurry now. Eyes red rimmed with tears that will surely sear your cheeks if they find the nerve to be shed, “Right now, I don’t get it. Over and over and over again, you have reminded me that you hate me. Prior to tonight, it was safe to assume that scorning my existence was one of your favorite pastimes. And I know, I get it — everything has changed. But- But-“

How can anything change if you weren’t honest to begin with?

Did anything change for him? While you were discovering and tending to sore feelings that had been festering for a while but had never seen the light of day, was he only nursing an old wound?

“But what?” his voice drops low. His entire demeanor has dropped, cowering down before you. His head dips down, his shoulders droop with prepared rejection, you watch the man before you, the man you had just let defile you and the man you had just worshiped on your goddamn knees, turn to dust.

A shaky gasp. Wobbly knees. The blood rushes through your ears again, flushing out any noise except the two of you breathing out of sync. His deep breaths, accepting and welcoming a rejection he was so sure he was receiving. Your shallow breaths, panting and rapid and trying to just get everything to slow the fuck down.

You were right. Once the tears shed, they burn a trail of Hellish fury right down the center of each cheek. “When I say everything has changed between us, what does that mean to you?”

He’s undressing an old wound, an open slash that seems to be unable to form a scab. You’re pressing on bruises, aching parts of you that had purpled from his neglect long ago. It’s clear as day now — the difference.

You no longer care about the embarrassment of being caught.

“What do you want it to mean?”

“Don’t do that,” the tears fall faster now. You can’t even begin to dig into this chasm of emotions. Are you angry at him? Are you disappointed by the circumstances? Do you love him? “I want an answer — I need your answer. You promised me your honesty, so give me it. Now.”

His eyes meet yours, and your entire world seems to fold into itself, “It… doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t change much.”

Everything has only changed for you.

“So it means nothing, then? You have me at your disposal, you have me on my fucking knees for you, you tell me you fucking love me, and it all means nothing?”

You’re twisting his words and you know it. But you can’t help it, can’t stop it.

“I never said that!” his voice is no longer low and quiet. Sudden worry creases beside his eyes as his mouth goes slack in shock, “I never said it meant nothing.”

“But it doesn’t mean much, right?” You hate your wet cheeks. You hate the way everything in you is somehow slow-breaking, yet suddenly shattering. An unnerving juxtaposition that is drowning you and sending you reeling over and over again, “It doesn’t change much, right? Because when I said that, Eddie, I meant it – everything fucking changed for me. It wasn’t- It’s not- This isn’t just some throwaway thing to me. Not even a day ago, I thought I had to hate you with everything I had. I thought I had to hate you.”

And I don’t. Not even a little bit. Even right now, when I should.

“Is that what you think I’m saying?” his voice is low where your voice has risen, his face calm where yours has gone stormy.

Where you’re on fire, he’s treading still waters. The opposite dilemma that has always existed, and the one you had the nerve to see as poetic. But water meeting flames is never poetic. It never ends well. You should have seen that coming from a mile away.

“What am I supposed to think?” you also quiet your tone to match his. You wonder if the neighbors really had heard a thing. You almost hope they had, that this argument is affecting someone else’s day the way it’s affecting you, “You’re standing here, and you’re telling me it doesn’t mean much, and-“

“It doesn’t change much,” he corrects, and you’re now the one flinching at the crack in his voice. “Not for me. Not when I-“

Not when I’ve loved you for so long.

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

“So what does it change?” you throw your hands out in exasperation, “If it doesn’t change much, what has it changed?”

There it is again — his silence, your anger.

“Is it not enough to just know it changes something?”

If you were stupid, you’d take his tone as pleading. You’d mistake it for begging. But you can’t. For all your fury, you can’t believe that he’s actually stooped so low as to beg for you, especially after what he’s just said. Time and time again, you had repeatedly cracked yourself wide open for him, and he’d managed to rip your heart right out of your chest with such a simply yet damning statement. The most casually cruel bit of honesty he had offered you yet tonight: that nothing changes.

“We’re back to square one,” you choke out in realization, “I- Fuck. This entire time, you weren’t honest with me.”

He opens his mouth quickly, and for a second you believe he’ll offer an explanation that can soothe over the ache. He’ll come up with an excuse that you can buy, he’ll explain himself in a way that proves you wrong, and the sweet oblivious bliss can return.

“No,” he says instead after careful consideration, “I wasn’t honest with you.”

Your tears are running rampant as you only nod slowly, pressing your lips together in defeat, “Awesome. Great,” you reach up, sniffling as you swipe at your nose, still silently quiet but no longer awarding him with any display of your rage, of your hurt, of anything but your acceptance, “No, really, that’s- Cool. Nothing changes. I get it.”

I’ve loved you for so long.

It didn’t make sense, but you don’t have it in you to dissect it any further. He had loved you the entire time, and still set out to make you bleed. His grand admission doesn’t change a single fucking thing.

You don’t say another word as you grab your pair of jeans up into your fist, being sure to move slowly and not in the haste every nerve in your body calls for. You need to leave – you need out of this apartment, and you need to never see Eddie Munson again. It wouldn’t be a far leap from what your friends already deal with. If the friendships take blows of damage from it, so be it-

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing stiller than a statue as he watches you.

You grab your bag, “I’m leaving. The deal’s off. Or- I don’t know. Tell them the bet’s off-”

“The bet is not off-”

“It is,” you turn to him, absolutely frozen in your resolution, “It really, really is. You can even fucking lie to them if you want, I don’t care. Figure out a way to get the money but I don’t want it. I’m done.”

“So that’s it?” he scoffs in disbelief. When you pull on your jeans, when you sling your bag back over your shoulder and begin to walk to the counter where your phone was left, he realizes that it’s really happening. He realizes you’re truly done, “No questions? I just told you I wasn’t fucking honest, and you’re just going to walk away, not even demand I tell the tru-”

“I’m tired of pulling the truth from you,” you finally move with some of the aggression you felt, hand smacking the counter beside your phone, “If you care so much, if you love me, I shouldn’t have to beg until my knees bleed for you to actually be honest with me,” you take your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before you look at him, “I can’t keep doing this. You were always right. They’re your friends. Congratulations, you got what you always said you wanted. You won’t have to deal with me anymore – consider this a farewell from your life. I’ll make sure no one invites you to my fucking funeral.”

You assume he grabs you due to your cruel reference to his insult from the very beginning of the night, that he’s going to fight you for that bit of your oddly calm speech. But when his hands wrap around your bicep, and you face him with those silent tears still racing, what comes out of his mouth stuns you.

“I’ll be honest,” he is pleading, he is begging, “Stay, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t even fucking care about the bet — we can call off, everyone else can go to Hell. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the bet, I just-” he pauses, and you watch the desperation building taller and taller within him, “Stay and let me explain.”

You should tell him no. You should tell him to go to Hell. If you stay and hear him out, it will only end in pain for you. You should leave.

Instead, your bag begins to slip off your shoulder.

“You have ten minutes,” you whisper as his hand finally releases its grip, “Explain.”

—

SIX MONTHS EARLIER - EDDIE’S POV

If he were smart, Eddie would’ve kept his word.

He’d told them he wasn’t showing up. He’d told them he had work (not a complete lie), and that he wouldn’t make it tonight. He just hadn’t felt like drinking anymore — not since two weeks prior, when he’d gotten black out drunk while hanging out with Nancy, throwing his own personal pity party.

Pathetic.

It wasn’t just that killer headache that had been haunting Eddie since that night. It was much more than that; it was solid and palpable regret. He’d thrown back too many beers, mixed it with some sort of wine coolers that Nancy offered him once he started to feel the buzz. All it took was just a bit too much alcohol in his system, and suddenly, his rant that Nancy had agreed to indulge him in became so much more. One moment, he was just complaining about you. And the next, he was rambling, letting less harsh words slip between the complaints, more compliments than things he wanted you to change. One wine cooler in, and he was no longer complaining about the way everyone had been fawning over you after a full six months of friendship, but instead the way that your sad eyes and pouting lips following him around a room was cosmically unfair.

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night, and he was glad when Nancy had given him a pitiful look over the cups of coffee she offered.

He’d told her. He knew he’d admitted his stupid, annoying, despicable crush on you to her. Probably whined about the way you and Harrington had clearly had something going on. Definitely spoke too much about how badly he wanted to experience your gentle hand in his calloused one, or to feel your arms wrap around his neck in greeting rather than daggers from your glare every time he entered a room. Hell, he’s sure there was a good thirty minute period amongst the fuzzy memories where he’d sat on the edge of tears as he continued to mumble about how he wasn’t good enough for you.

Nancy Wheeler, his best friend, finally knew. Six fucking months of keeping it under wraps, and Eddie Munson had finally slipped up.

And she clearly hasn’t forgotten as Eddie had prayed she would every single night as she’s the one to answer his knocks on Steve’s door, grinning with the hidden knowledge.

She’d texted him with one last plea for him to show up. Insisted everyone was here. Went so far as to make him a list, and made sure to add your name at the end. It had been phrased like an afterthought on the screen, but he knew her too well. He knew Nancy purposefully mentioned you.

“Munson! Finally! It took you long enough,” she squeals, clearly already halfway to drunk before she quiets down, “And you said you weren’t coming. Wonder what, or who, changed your mind.”

“Fuck off.”

It had been a bad day. Work, classes, a phone call with Wayne that had just left Eddie disheartened and terribly homesick. It was selfish, but the thought of seeing you in passing tonight, even if you did seem to dislike him just as he had intended, made it all a bit more bearable.

Coming home. Seeing you felt like coming home, even if you’d slammed the front door on his face.

He follows Nancy down the hall, a pit growing in the bottom of his stomach, heavy as ever. He shouldn’t have even wanted to see you. The last time he had seen you, you’d been out for blood, blatantly ruining a date he’d managed to bag with Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, who never gave him the time of day in high school. Chrissy, who was clearly set on using him as a rebound during yet another break from Jason. Chrissy, who’s only flaw wasn't just the fact that she wasn’t you.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle greets Eddie the moment he enters the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, Jonathan to his right and a space where Nancy clearly had occupied now empty.

Eddie nods, still feeling the week weighing him down. No sight of you yet, “Hey, man.”

He just wanted to see you. One glimpse, preferably before you’ve caught sight of him, and he’d be fine. He’d learned to live with those fleeting moments the last six months, he could keep it up for just a bit longer.

He’d get over you eventually. Even if it killed him.

He had to give his plan time to work. So far, he’d done well, easily offering you a cold shoulder and nothing more after that first night. It wasn’t easy — he doesn’t think anyone would find the task of being cool towards someone as radiant as you easy — but he’d done it. Brick by brick, his wall of invincibility was standing tall and strong between you two. It was safer this way, he had to remind himself. It was better to run off of brief glances of your smiles and laughter never directed at him than to risk anything more. He’d only disappoint you, or you’d magically disappoint him, and it would end in bloodshed. Someone like you, someone so good and kind and easy to gravitate towards, would leave Eddie broken beyond damage.

You didn’t go for guys like Eddie. Steve had made that clear since day one.

Eddie takes the loveseat as Nancy returns to Jonathan’s side. He tries to make it subtle, the way he twists his head to glance around the room as he removes his jacket, eyes roaming until he finds you. In the kitchen, with Steve and Robin, tense back telling him you’d already noticed his arrival.

So much for seeing you smile.

He tries to keep up with the conversation going on. Argyle and Jonathan are having some sort of debate about aliens, nothing short of heated and passionate, and he’d normally be jumping in without hesitation. But his eyes can’t stop flickering to the kitchen and each time, he can see you downing even more alcohol. He knows you don’t like him, but did you hate him that much?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Nancy leans over to whisper as Jonathan grows in volume about another branch of a conspiracy theory.

“Just tired,” he flatly replies. He’s suddenly itching to get his hands onto some alcohol of his own. Fuck the lessons he should’ve learned a few weeks ago. Fuck his regret in confiding in Nancy.

“Was work rough?”

He hums pathetically in response, eyes glued to the kitchen still. To you.

Nancy’s eyes finally follow his focus, “Have you… I don’t know, ever tried just talking to her?”

He snaps from his daze at that, head turning quickly to Nancy, “I talk to her all the time.”

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Never nicely,” she points out, narrowing her eyes, “You’re like a little boy on the playground, tugging on her pigtails until she figures it ou-“

“I don’t want her to figure it out,” he cuts off the assumption, eyes widening in horror at the thought, “Christ, Nance. I thought I made that clear when I ended up shitfaced on your couch.”

Nancy softens. She can see what’s happening here, see every dampening thought that weighs Eddie down. He might not remember his drunken rambles, but she does.

“The only thing you made clear is what a spectacular ass you’re making out of yourself,” her words hold no bite, only truth, “Who cares what Steve said that night? He was drunk.”

“So was I,” Eddie’s eyes are back on you, palms running up his outer thighs until he curls them to fists by his hips, “I was drunk when I talked to you about her. Forget about it.”

Surprisingly, his stubborn best friend leaves it be. Puts the pointless argument to rest.

Eddie’s feelings can’t rest, though.

Every night, he tells himself it’ll all go away. The distance will make his heart grow harder, and he’ll eventually be able to wash himself of you one of these days. And every night, all the feelings you’ve sprouted inside of him only teem their way higher, up into his throat and choking him with every last breath before he falls asleep. He can’t forget those first few weeks, the way you seemed to think his coldness was a phase. You’d tried so desperately to seek him out at every function, sparked so many failed conversations with him that left him to burn. Every smile you’d offered him during that time, he’d taken for granted.

Even last week, when you’d interrupted his date, he’d let himself relish in the memory of your attention. Pathetic.

Had you been jealous? Had you just been spiteful, finally giving him a taste of his own medicine? He couldn’t decide, wouldn’t let himself linger on the reasoning. But he’d remembered your touch, could still feel it scarring his skin wherever your palm of fingertips had rested as you’d scared off Chrissy. He’d even hesitated in the shower that night, pausing for a moment before washing over the shoulder you’d gripped when you’d first approached their table and embarrassed him without care.

He deserved your spite.

And he deserves to have to overhear the conversation you’re currently having in the kitchen. You’re going on and on about all the men you’ve had dates with, detailing out every one night stand for Steve and Robin who listen with eager ears.

It makes his stomach churn and twist sharply. Each new man you bring to your roster makes his throat burn with jealousy, plain and simple. And he knows it written all over his face when Nancy leans over and puts a hand on his knee, giving him a concerned look.

Even the change of topic between Argyle and Jonathan on goddamn Bigfoot can’t overtake the sharp cut of your bragging.

“I’ve never seen your eyes so green, Eddie.”

He’s about to snipe back that his eyes are brown, and be unnecessarily cruel from his sour mood, when he realizes what she means.

“I’m not jealous,” he lies through his teeth.

“You very much are.”

He doesn’t have it in him to bicker back and forth about this again. Not about you, and not with Nancy, “What does it matter? Like I said, me and her? Never gonna happen.”

He had said that. He remembers that, at least, from his drunken confession. He’s sure he reiterated that point several times once he’d made it past the point of coherency.

“She’s lying,” Nancy casually whispers, pulling her hand back, “She- Us girls talk, you know? Just… she’s lying.”

“I went on a date with Chrissy. It doesn’t matter.”

And she has no clue how fucking hung up on her I am. She’ll never know if I have anything to do with it.

“You can keep saying that,” Nancy glances, making sure their other two friends on the couch are still too deep in conversation to listen in, “But we both know that’s not true.”

Unsurprising. Even if Nancy hadn’t listened to him cry that night about all his miserable yearning, all his unrequited feelings born out of a mess he got himself into, she would have known. Eddie has tried to guard himself when it comes to you, but there’s some times his leashed affection can’t help but seep out.

Whenever you stumble on sidewalks beside him, his arms and hands are the first to fly out. Whenever the group has gone out to bars altogether, he watches you like a hawk, almost daring the men surrounding you to disrespect you. Whenever your birthday came around, he’d bought that damn gift card to his favorite coffee shop, all because he saw you frequent it twice. Although, to be fair, he’d made Harrington be the messenger there. He wouldn’t have been able to look you in your eye, wouldn’t have been able to put up the bitter persona on a day that should be special to you. He didn’t want to ruin your birthday, so he’d simply sat on the sidelines. Let everyone else go out and celebrate with you. Let everyone else pour enough affection into your cup, even when he wishes his own could have been the final drops to cause it to overfill.

He had to tread carefully. It’d be too easy — to let himself pour out all these silly feelings and meaningless attraction. One wrong move, and he’d cause his own undoing. His own destruction. It doesn’t matter if it would be by your hand; he’d only have himself to blame at the end of the day.

He’s lost in thought, still itching for a drink, when Nancy is suddenly standing over him. “We’re going out for a smoke, you in?”

He shakes his head numbly. His mind is far away now, getting lost in all that he’s done wrong, all that he can’t have.

He’s homesick. He’s watched the way you’ve interacted with Robin and Steve the entire night, and he’s goddamn homesick for a home that he’ll never hold the keys to.

“You sure, man?” Argyle asks him, wiggling his brows, “I brought the good shit.”

Numbing his mind with drugs. It’s tempting.

“I’m good,” he reaffirms, still speaking in monotone. He doesn’t have the energy to put up a brave face, too focused on his heavy chest and that miserable pit in his gut still.

And everyone leaves. He’s sure there’s something poetic for his stormy mind to pick up on there, as he watches his friends gather without him and exit to the outside, but he’s more focused on a miniscule detail.

You’re not with them.

Meaning you’re still in the kitchen.

And God, he really should know better. He should stay planted in his seat and he should sit in his misery until they all return. Only trouble can come from not doing so. But then his body moves to its own accord, fueled by something wickedly cruel and terribly homesick as he grabs one of the bottles of beer off the coffee table. It’s Nancy’s, he’s sure of it. Her lipstick stains the opposite side of the rim he takes a swig from. The beer has long since gone lukewarm, but beggars can’t be choosers. He clears his throat as the bitter lingers on his tongue.

He should know better.

But he doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t as he enters the kitchen. You’re on your phone as he stands in the doorway, and there’s no time to hide what you’d been glancing over.

A dating app.

You spin to face him, and he imagines a world where your eyes land on him and light up. Something akin to that first night, to those first few weeks. Where you look at him with purpose, and he sees relief flood your irises rather than irritation or fear.

No such luck. He only has himself to blame.

He can’t think of anything else to say, so like an idiot, he gestures vaguely with the bottle of beer towards your phone, “Those apps fucking suck.”

That jealousy is still gnawing at him. Hateful, painful, reckless.

You look down at your phone for a second, and click to exit whatever messages you’d been on. And then you look back up at him.

“You’ve used them in the past?” you question him, but he’s still stuck on all the recounts of your escapades he’d overheard tonight. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. All he sees when he closes his eyes is you, with other men. You, looking at someone else with purpose, relieved eyes awarded to someone more worthy.

He’s lucky he can choke out a short, “Nope,” and make it not sound strangled.

“Okay,” your attention returns to your phone screen, and Eddie’s returns to his internal battle.

He’s jealous. So goddamn jealous it’s insufferable. It’s not your fault – he chose to push you away, he chose to lash out like a child for his own sanity and his own safety. You’d ruin him; you’ve already ruined him without even trying. If he gave up on the act, on this carefully thought out plan, he’d be beyond leftover rubble of a man. He’d be gone beyond recognition, reduced to ash and smoke. A nameless, forgotten whisper of dust that people would only point to and say, see? Look at that. That’s what becomes of you when you never learn.

He’s pined enough in his lifetime after girls like you. Girls who were too good for him. He’d done it with Chrissy, and it was still causing him nothing but trouble.

That burden didn’t hang over Chrissy, or over you. It was all Eddie’s own fault. Neither of you could help that he wasn’t good enough; it wasn’t either of your jobs to fix him or lower your standards for him. You’d even been kind, you’d even nearly fallen into that trap.

It was for the better. All of it was for the better this way.

And yet the jealousy remains. The anger still thrives between his ribs, and begs for release.

“Why are you even still on them?” he should think over his words more carefully as they begin to roll off his tongues. He knows he’s in the wrong before he even continues, “I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.”

Each word is sharpened so intentionally, glinting from raking against that anger inside of him. You don’t deserve their prick. Really, he should just be comforting you the way the others do – how Robin surely was, how Steve must be.

But it’s part of the plan. So he tampers down the jealousy and he feeds into the anger, lets it consume him. Because making you hate him is easier than letting you like him. It’s easier to watch the one you can’t have sneer at you like the enemy than let them smile at you like you’re just a friend.

“I-” you falter in your words, and he decides to straighten his back, takes a deep breath as he slips the mask on effortlessly. He hates how easy it’s become. He hates how quickly he turns everything with you into a fight, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.”

Sometimes, it’s like a game. And he can pretend that your hatred, your distaste, is also all a facade. Like the both of you are two sides of the same coin. A playful banter rather than an actual argument between two people who can’t even call themselves friends. When he looks at it like that, blinded by his delusion, it makes the ache dull. Sends it away for a few fleeting seconds, convinces himself he really can carry on this way.

“You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all, tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the boy count you’ve got there, player,” he forces a grin as he leans on the counter, watching his words get under your skin exactly as he had intended.

You’re cute like this. Clearly drunk, getting flustered. He revels in the way your face physically scrunches in annoyance, the way he can watch you gear up to fight fire with fire. A sick, twisted game of cat and mouse that always can entertain him in the moment and haunt him at night.

“You’re bluffing. You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

He wonders, for a second, if you’d caught him staring at any point. He wonders if you’d even care.

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying.”

You cross your arms, and he can’t help but watch the way they push your chest up. He can’t help but ponder on how much better it would all feel if this were really playful banter.

He has to refrain from physically shaking the thought from his mind.

It’s for the better.

He narrows his eyes, he grips onto the anger again, that hidden jealousy. He should know better. He should stop it. The words even feel heavy on his tongue, terribly forced. Because his anger isn’t at you.

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” and oh, how ironic, for the liar to be calling out someone’s little white lies, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up,” the words come out a bit easier when imagines the barrel of the gun pointed at himself, as if he were speaking so casually cruelly into a mirror rather than at you, “Everyone strikes ou-”

He’s clearly struck a nerve. And it aches, but he reminds himself that that’s the point. That’s his goal.

“I’m pathetic? Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.”

He wasn’t trying to avoid you. He was trying to avoid Nancy after his entire drunken confession fiasco.

“I did!” he continues to lie. Even with no one to show for, he piles up his lies high. Buries himself beneath them, beneath his pathetic act and worthless reasons. It’s probably for the best that you had assumed that he was avoiding you.

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.”

The act cracks for a moment as he freezes. Why did you know about his apartment’s pet policy?

“How do you know that?”

It can’t be because you care, or even get curious about him. He’s done everything in his power to cause the exact opposite, to make you be repulsed by him and to run the other way if you can help it.

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” He doesn’t even react to the roll of your eyes, unable to get riled up as he usually would at that. It clicks for him; it makes sense, because Nancy had stormed down his door not even a day later, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Eddie does feel guilty about that. He doesn’t mean for his own self-destructive behavior to leach out to his friends, or even you. His goal has always been to make it so that when he’s not around, he’s not even an afterthought to you. But selfishly, part of him preens at the idea of you being reminded of him, of you thinking of him when he’s not in the room with you. It’s a conundrum. It’s almost deadlier than his other option.

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” he grumbles like a damn child, almost pouting in his guilt. There’s another selfish sliver of him that’s also upset at that – upset at the fact everyone else gets to bloom with your friendship and positive attention, but not him. Once again, it’s his own doing. He really shouldn’t be angry at you about it.

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.”

Times like these make him want to give it all up. He has to physically tense his body, tick his jaw and bite his tongue to avoid throwing the entire act to the side. He wants nothing more than to grab you by your shoulders and shake you, scream that sometimes it is your fault. But you don’t know it – you can’t read his mind, see past his intentions.

You don’t know what Steve had so generously reminded him of that very first night.

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice is devoid of all emotion despite the storm brewing inside of him. He can’t even blame it on alcohol – he wishes he could, but his tolerance to beer can handle the single sip he’s taken. He crosses his arms, wrapping them around his body, trying to protect that terrible vulnerability only he’s aware of. When your position mirrors his, he wonders for a moment if you’re also feeling it.

But you’ve been drinking. This entire conversation, every emotion, can be blamed on that. You’re luckier than Eddie.

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment.”

He lets a reaction at his own irony slip through for a brief second, eyebrows furrowing as the voice inside him screams hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!

He wishes he could pretend to be oblivious to why he can’t stop bringing Steve up, but he knows better. He can bury the jealousy alive, but it still bites all the same.

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going? We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?”

We aren’t exactly friends.

He should relish that confirmation that his plan is working, that you truly don’t see him as a friend, but it just fucking stings. He swallows hard physically, as if it can help him swallow down the truth any better, but it does nothing for him. The truth only continues to choke him up. His tongue has momentarily frozen over in his mouth as he tries to push past the painful reminder and wrap up this conversation. He feels it, that sharp burn of an unattended wound, and he realizes at the wrong moment that whether or not he keeps you at an arm's length, bloodshed will always occur.

At least this way, he tells himself it’s protecting himself. This way, the knife isn’t pointed at his own heart.

“You’re right. We aren’t friends,” the words are poison on his tongue. They taste of dirt and rust, like a grave that screams to be dug up but he has no shovel. He’d tossed it once he’d sealed the tomb, like a fool, “But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?”

At least he wasn’t lying to you for a brief moment. Nance had told him. He’d throw you that bone, at least.

“Well-” and with your own pause, you seemingly return the favor. You’re handing him yet another opportunity on a silver platter; exposing an insecurity that he should let live and let die, but he won’t for the sake of the wall he has bled to put up between you two, “You say that as if Nancy and I aren’t friends.”

“Are you?”

He’ll regret that taunt for the rest of his days. Two simple words, and he’s damned himself. The conversation that follows, about Instagram and followers and social standards of friendship, doesn’t even matter to him. It’s just a routine. Constant knives, clashing swords of words, lie after lie piling up with the bile in his throat as he shoots for kills. He hands over reason after reason for you to resent him, and makes sure that each punch lands. Ignores the ache, the one billowing in his knuckles as if each subtle insult he tosses your way doesn’t bruise his innards all the same way. By the end of the back and forth, it should be enough, for both of you. He’s accomplished the same thing he always sets out to do with every conversation: he pisses you off, putting another inch in that stretch between you two.

But then you turn your back on him. And he deserves it. God, he deserves it. But he’s still full of bad ideas tonight, the awfulness of the last few days still suffocating him, and so he makes another decision to regret. He walks up behind you.

You open your phone, and he sees it. You’re on the dating app again, and the screen flashes with the face of your latest contender.

He knows that face. He schools his face to remain even, but he fucking knows that face.

The bartender at his local haunt. The only other person besides Nancy who had ever seen Eddie so miserable over you. He had been drinking alone that night, and the whiskey had him pouring out his guts to the poor guy. Slurred words of the girl who had slipped between his fingers, of the one who got away, of you.

And that same bartender had been the one to sympathize with Eddie, claiming he understood. That he knew that feeling – dating around and doing anything in your power to get the girl you truly want off your mind. He said he had one of his own. He’d told Eddie that his pain-riddled speeches helped him make up his mind, that he was going to go after the girl he really wanted, that Eddie should do the same.

Was this bartender your ex-boyfriend? Had the two of them been discussing the exact same girl?

Bad decisions. Over, and over, and over. It all comes to a rise within Eddie – not just the anger, but the jealousy and the hurt and the goddamn envy of the man on the screen. He hates the bartender, he hates himself, he hates the world at this point.

He tells himself he should add you to that list. But he doesn’t. He can’t.

And it all spirals out of control before he can prove that to himself. Words grow sharper, small kindles of tension between the two of you finally explode to full blown flames, and he’s suddenly saying things he doesn’t mean. Things he’ll linger on for the days and weeks, the months to come.

“You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted, Not by those assholes, not here-”

He’s mid-lie, one finger on the trigger of the gun he assumed was aimed at his own chest, when it finally happens. A snap within both of you. Timed perfectly with the glass that shatters against the wall beside his head.

Eddie learns two things that night.

One, half of his plan worked. He��s succeeded. You hated Eddie Munson’s guts, and instead of him being content in his success, he’s sick to his stomach. It doesn’t bandage the wound inside of him, doesn’t pack away cotton nor cauterize the bleeding. It only worsens it. Widens it, impossibly so. He swears shards of that broken glass fly right into his unsuspecting chest, even if Nancy doesn’t find a trace on him when she comes back inside to see the aftermath. You hate him, he’s proven his point. He has proven himself to be the worst possible version of himself, the most unlovable man he had always seen in the mirror now residing in him staunchly enough that every single one of his friends sees it.

He’d done it. He’d diminished any chance he had ever held of being friends with you. And he thought that, without a doubt, that meant he’d diminished any disastrous chance of letting you close enough to risk the chance of any more of his feelings getting involved. He thought it would have meant that he’d done it – he’d protected himself, and in some sick twisted way you, from inevitable bloodshed.

But blood had still been shed. Even if his friends were only cleaning up broken glass in the kitchen, he could still see the stain of red across the floor and walls from you and him. He was bleeding out for you, but he had just driven the knife in deep enough that you would never return the feeling. There was no world where you would be bleeding out for him, only because of him.

The second revelation comes a bit later in the night.

Closer to midnight, hours after the fight, when Eddie finds himself alone as per usual. He stumbles to his usual bar, thankful for the late hours, fully prepared to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember his own name. He’d wish to not remember your face, especially when he had spewed such hateful intent your way, but he knows there’s not a single brand or amount of whiskey out there that can cleanse him of that. Your name is just another ghost to add to the lineup. You’ll haunt him until his dying day. And he deserves that.

But then, when he walks into the bar, he sees the bartender.

The same man who had stood you up just the night before. The same man Eddie simply couldn’t understand. He was clearly on a date, a nice girl sat at the table across from him, laughing at every word he said. Eddie remembers their conversation, although a bit hazy.

“I think you’re onto something, man. Some girls are just… irreplaceable. I’ve got a girl like that of my own – prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, a smile that could cure cancer – and… you know what? I think we should both go for it. Give up on the girls who could never compare.”

He wants to vomit. The bastard had even poured a round of shots on the house, had fucking cheered with Eddie before throwing back the alcohol with him in the promise of moving onto the girls who matter.

He had said cheers to discarding you. Brushing off you. To you being one of the girls who could never compare.

Eddie’s vision goes red, and he knows half of the blame falls on himself. He’d been the reason this asshole stood you up. He had already been the reason for your pain tonight before he’d even said a word to you. His self hatred has never burned so deeply, so viciously.

But you can’t punch yourself. And so instead, Eddie doesn’t hold back when he approaches the table and lands his right knuckles right on the bastard’s cheek bone. Even goes in for a second punch. He would have gotten in a third punch, but the bartender hits back. Not as hard as Eddie, fists fueled by self-defense rather than ravaging guilt and crippling self-hatred, but enough to get deter him until security could gather both men up.

It’s in the alleyway that he has his second revelation. At the hands of the man who had just hurt you. It was like looking in a mirror. Eddie nearly does finally vomit as he leans against the brickwall, security a few paces away, ready to file a police report. But then, the bastard still manages to somehow be better than Eddie, throwing up a hand to stop them from dialing for the cops.

“Don’t,” is all he says, leveling a stare when Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, pushing his luck. He needs someone to punish him. He needs to be thrown in a cell for the night, to be treated as the degenerate he truly was, “I just rearranged your fucking face and-”

“Why’d you punch me?” the bartender spits out some blood, nose crooked, “You- You’re a fucking regular, dude. How’d I piss in your cheerios?”

Eddie’s feeling vulnerable. All his actual feelings boiling and burning in the back of his throat, begging to be released. He doesn’t need a drop of whiskey this time to be honest.

“The girl,” Eddie rasps, tears threatening to spill as he pictures your face again, “I told you about the girl. The one no one else compared to.”

The bartender’s eyes widen, “Jesus, fuc- are you telling me that we were talking about the same fucking girl? I- Vanessa told me she wasn’t seeing anyone else, I can’t believe she fucking lie-”

“Not her,” Fuck Vanessa, Eddie thinks bitterly, almost laughing. He has no right to say his next words, but he does, and they cause a pain worse than even the most nightmarish hangovers he’s ever experienced, “My girl is the one you stood up for her.”

You weren’t his girl. You never would be his girl.

The bartender only looks more confused, and Eddie’s anger flares a bit more at the thought of him talking to more girls beyond you. The man before him had had everything Eddie wanted: he had had you. And just like Eddie, he had fucked it all up. It was easy to misdirect his anger in the moment.

He says your name out loud, a searing iron in his throat that makes it come out garbled and strangled. Some recognition falls upon the man’s face.

“Oh… her.”

Eddie doesn’t hold back, “Her? That’s all you have to fucking say? You stood her up, you fucking- Jesus Christ, go burn in Hell,” He’s being irrational. He doesn’t care, “Call the cops on me. Tell them to let me rot in a fucking cell. I deserve it – but so do you. That girl… that… her. She’s one in a fucking million, she’s a thousand times better than whatever girl you have waiting on you inside, and you couldn’t see that. You’re a goddamn dick.”

No one makes the move for the call. The bartender just shakes his head again, being far too patient. Eddie opens his mouth, ready to scream now as he demands they punish him. Make him pay for his crimes. Not just the punches, but everything he had broken tonight.

He broke you tonight. He deserves to burn in Hell far more than the man before him.

“I knew you were in love with her, but-”

Eddie cuts him off, “I’m not in love with her.”

He hates the look he receives. It’s the same pity that Nancy now looks at him with. That same hidden judgment, like everyone else knows something that he doesn’t.

“You may hate to hear it,” the bartender is choosing his words very carefully as he swipes in a contrasting carelessness at the blood pouring out of one of his nostrils, “But you don’t throw punches like that for a girl you’re not in love with. So I suggest you mind your business, and if she is as valuable as you keep going on about, you tell her rather than punching the dude he just serves you fucking alcohol.”

He doesn’t even have to close his eyes to see you anymore. The image of you is clear as day, even with his eyes open. You, broken and vulnerable and full of hatred for him. Just as he had intended.

Success tastes metallic and bitter. Eddie finally empties what little he had in his stomach onto that concrete alleyway.

He doesn’t leave the wall. Not when the bartender goes back inside with one of the bar’s bouncers, not when the remaining bouncer eyes him and nervously steps forward, not when they return with a paper declaring him banned from the bar.

He can’t move. All he sees is you. He hasn’t drank more than that one pitiful swig of beer at Steve’s, but he feels like his world has gone incoherent all the same.

He fucked up.

He crinkles that piece of paper harshly once he’s properly left alone in the alleyway, angry enough that it tears a bit from his force. It doesn’t phase him; he didn’t intend on returning anyways. He carries it with him the entire way home, regardless, rolls it between his palms until it’s gone soft with the sweat of his hands.

It’s for the better. He fucked up, but it’s for the better.

He tosses the wadded ball into the trash when he gets home. Goes through the numb motions of taking off his shoes, tossing his jacket on the counter rather than the hook he’d put up for it, and leaves his bike’s keys beside it. Eventually, he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth but never once glancing up in the mirror. As a matter of fact, he avoided every single reflective surface in his apartment that night.

He still sees your face, broken and teary, as he turns off his bedroom light and lays on his mattress that night. It doesn’t matter how many times he repeats it to himself, reminds himself over and over, the mantra of it being for the better doesn’t work. It can’t break through. All because of a pathetic revelation.

Eddie learns that night that he is, in fact, in love with you. And it doesn’t matter, because you hate his fucking guts, just as he had intended.

—

You don’t make a single move once Eddie breathlessly finishes his explanation. Not even to breathe.

He’s been in love with you since that night at Steve’s.

You’d known that he had punched the bartender that night. You’d known that he had been banned from his usual bar that night. But you hadn’t known the entire truth. You couldn’t have ever imagined it, ever pieced it together, until now.

And you don’t know if that speaks more on you and how dense you’ve been this entire time, or on Eddie and how dishonest he’s been this entire time.

“God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

It suddenly makes sense. At a sickening and sudden pace, it clicks into place.

“Eddie, I-”

“Don’t,” he stops you, looking you directly in your eyes. You nearly shrink under his attention. Your fury is gone; you just feel empty, “You… You don’t need to say it back. You don’t need to say anything – the bet’s off. I’m not being honest to stop you from leaving,” he admits, every single wall crumbling at both of your feet, “I’m just being honest because you deserve it. I should have told you that night. I should- I actually should have never done any of this. Any of it.”

You remember the girl you once were. In a bar, surrounded by strangers and new friends, with tunnel vision for the boy in front of you. You remember that feeling of coming home, the way you ached for him to let you in and had been fooled for one night that it was possible.

A year later, and he was letting you in, too late.

“Why?” your voice cracks. You should just pick up your bag and go, but you can’t. Not until you stick the final stitches into the wound, seal up this hurt once and for all. For you and for Eddie. “Why would you… Why would you do that? Why would you set out to make me hate you?”

“Because I didn’t deserve you,” he says it like a simple fact, like it doesn’t shatter you apart, “Because I knew if I didn’t create the rift and kept letting you in, I’d fall in love with you. At first, I thought I needed you to hate me to prevent it. Figured you’d be stronger than me about it. If I made you hate me, I was… Honestly, I was saving myself. I’d tell myself it was about saving you, but it wasn’t. I was being fucking selfish.”

You nod silently, swallowing down tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for what you still want so badly that it aches.

“All because of Steve making…” you trail off, head trying to wrap around all the honesty he had just presented you with, “Making some off-handed, drunk comment.”

It was Eddie’s turn to silently nod. To swallow hard and flutter his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the hurt lit within them.

“You said you hated me,” you’re thinking out loud more than you’re properly speaking to him at this point, voice broken and soft, hands fighting the urge to reach out for him. Even after it all. Every reminder of what he had done for you, and now having the pitiful reason behind it all, still couldn’t break what had formed here tonight. Everything has still changed for you, “When I said everything changes, I meant the hate – I didn’t want to hate you anymore.”

“I know,” he bites his lip, as if he’s trying to hold back any careless words. Words that might hurt you, but not for the same reasons as they used to, “That’s why… not much has changed. I never hated you. God knows I wanted to. I told myself I had to hate you, because if I didn’t hate you, I’d love you. And I couldn’t do that again – I couldn’t handle falling in love with someone I couldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t survive loving you when you’d never love me back. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of us.”

“But you did it anyway,” you almost laugh at the awfulness of it all, terribly irony stacking up between you, “You fell in love with me, you said it yourself. You… you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects, eyes now wide open, “I love you. It’s not- It’s not some feeling in the past tense. You should still hate me, because I still love you.”

He’s right, you finally realize. You should hate him for all of this.

“And all of this counted on the first part of your plan working,” he has to take a step closer, whether it be subconscious or due to how low your voice has dropped. The physical distance erased aches. Splinters each of your bones and all of your emotions, “Which you never even asked me if it worked, even now. You just assumed.”

He takes a deep, brave breath before he quietly asks you, “Did it work?”

You both already know the answer now, “No.”

But it changes nothing. You know that, he knows that. It’s just as he said – the point of saying it out loud no longer has anything to do with repairing what’s been damaged just tonight. You’re both being honest only because you both deserve it. You both deserve to finally close this tomb.

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to close it, though. Not truly. Not properly.

“I can’t stay,” you whisper, “I still… I still need to leave.”

Especially now.

“I know you do,” he responds. He’s gentle, understanding.

It doesn’t stop the tear you see break from his lower lashes. He doesn’t draw any attention to it, doesn’t so much as move to clear it from his cheek. As if he’s scared if he does, you’ll notice it if you hadn’t already.

“The bet’s still off,” you continue, unable to meet his gaze as you pick up your bag once more.

“I know it is.”

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. And part of you, this time, wishes he would have as you slip back out the front door of apartment 2C and let the door shut with a quiet click behind you.

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #my bad #surprise drop because... i am actually sleeping so peacefully right now haha #also might be more mindful of answering asks with spoilers for this round <3 just to give people a fighting chance to read first!!!#eddie pov truthers please rise because my GOD have i been excited to do this

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misty-caligula · 11 months

Text

Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls.

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together, with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

#yellowjackets #spoilers #theories #Long post #no really long post

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gingerylangylang1979 · 10 months

Photo

Gifs courtesy of @gentlesleaze

Carmy wants Sydney... carnally.

I’ve debated about what his epic face journey here meant for a year now and I’m without a doubt convinced he was seriously attracted to Sydney from the day they met. There is no other explanation. I mean, if somebody wants to try another explanation go for it, but um. Who looks at a new employee like this? Would he have looked at Marcus like this? Let’s be for real.

Why is he like this? It’s just too weird. He looks like he just saw a sexy angel (he did). Carmy is a bit odd but this is the weirdest he has ever acted. I mean it’s really stunning and I think just shows there was always something there with him for her. I don’t see how you can deny he is acting so extra. He can’t speak at first, he forgot he was expecting her because he is so surprised by her, he’s just staring, he can barely talk professionally, he forgets what UPS is, then he does this crazy shy double take. His voice is hella soft with her. He needed to look at her again, but it’s almost like he feels guilty. I could analyze these acting choices forever. It’s a really fascinating scene.

Carmy thinks Sydney is gorgeous. He thought so from the first time he saw her. Now, he kind of tucked away that info super quick. He’s a gentleman and he’s professional. She’s qualified, actually overqualified, of course he’s gonna hire her. But Carmy’s not a pervert so he’s not gonna hire her and sexually harass her. He’s gonna keep it chill. He’s surely worked with attractive women before. No biggie... right? He can keep it together. When Richie calls her sweetheart he checked him. See, it’s all good. No worries.

But he can’t stop staring. Carmy stares at Sydney often. He loves her face. There are times when what he is communicating could easily be communicated without being up in her face. But no, he is like as close to her face as he can be without being on it, examining from multiple angles as much as possible. He likes to turn to her. He likes to look up at her. He likes to look down at her. He likes to side-eye her. He appreciates art, beauty. Her face is that. She’s so precious to him. Notice how when we see her from his perspective she’s always extra glowy.

Anyways, I’m sorry when this man gets her the lovemaking is going to be so raw and passionate. I’m telling you. He wants this woman, in his bed, like Moonstruck style. He just isn’t fully aware, but he does think she’s absolutely beautiful. He probably also thinks there is no way she wants him.

This has to be fun for Jeremy to act. None of his Shameless romances had this kind of depth. This is an epic, super nuanced slow burn on a quality drama. He gets to be spicy, but sneaky, and unsure. And Ayo is so funny. They must be having a blast with this.

#carmy x sydney #chefs kiss

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lovingmattysposts · 4 months

Text

Best Friend’s Brother 10

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

summary: you just moved into the sturniolo’s home after some family issues and you’re starting to become attracted to your best friend’s brother and you hated yourself for it. But how could you resist?

warnings: there is a scene where a guy tries to come onto y/n, but it is not in descriptive detail there is no sexual indication in the scene he just trying to kiss her, alcohol, cursing, sad, angst

the long awaited bfb 10....this one is a long one so here you go my loves

xoxo, autumn

chris pov

I felt like absolute shit. I’m a horrible person. A horrible selfish person. All my life I’ve allowed myself to pull away from my wants, her. And it worked. It’s worked for the last four years.

One slip up and now I’ve got bloody hands and no one gets what they want. Even caving into my selfish wants, I didn’t think about how it would effect her. Until it was too late.

She probably thinks the worst of me. I would tell her that I loved her too, but she didn’t deserve that. It would rip her apart. She didn’t understand, how could she?

What was I suppose to say? I’ve been dreaming about the night we had when I kissed you for the past four years? She would look at my like I was crazy.

It was better this way. It was better that she didn’t know. I would die with the secret that I loved her too, even if it ate me alive. She wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t understand if I had admitted that I love her too. She would question me. She wouldn’t understand that I loved her so much that I let her go.

Love was suppose to be the most powerful thing in the word. Nothing else was suppose to matter if you had love. But this was far from the truth. Love meant sacrifice. Sacrificing my wants for what she needed. She didn’t need me. I knew she didn’t need me.

I suck. I’m nothing special. I’m afraid if I tried I would fail and she would end up with no one. I’m not good at acting on love. Hell, I wasn’t even good at feeling it.

I slipped up. I got selfish. This was me redeeming myself. She just didn’t know it. She would get over me. She would fall in love and she would forget about that boy who broke her heart on the roof.

Even if I never will.

I’ve been staying at Elmer's house for a few days now. I didn’t want to see her. I never wanted to go back to that house. I was scared. I was scared to face her. I was scared I would take it all back. I was scared I would tell her how long I’ve loved her.

That I would fall to my knees begging her to pick me and that I would never hurt her ever again. But I didn’t know that. I would try, but love was never promised.

She could change her mind.

After this I’m not sure she would even take me back. But I wasn’t going to do that to Nick, and she wasn't either no matter if she thought she wanted to.

Her heart was too big for her body. I wished I could explain it to her, but I couldn’t.

I felt my phone buzz. I picked it up looking down at the notification.

mia

now where have you been hiding? :) miss u big

I sighed and turned my phone off. The last thing I needed was to be in contact with her again. Elmer walked in making me look up.

“Alright spill it, why have you been hiding out here?” He sighed sitting down next to be. I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m not hiding” I mumbled. He raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” He asked blinking at me. I just looked at him. “Did your brothers do something?” He asked. I shook my head. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head smiling.

“It’s a girl isn’t it? The one staying with you?” He asked looking at me making me look off to the side. He sighed. “What’d you do?” He asked. I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I fucked up I think” I sighed looking at him. “Then fix it” He shrugged. I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that simple” I stated looking at him. He smiled and nodded. “It never is” He stated. I bit my lip and looked to the side.

I walked into the house quietly before walking into the kitchen seeing my mom standing over the stove. She turned at the sound of me walking. "Hey sweetie. How was Elmer's?" She asked turning to look at me. I let out a breath. "Good" I nodded looking down. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"There's something going on isn't there?" She asked looking at me. I looked up at her. "What?" I asked suddenly. She sighed walking over to me. "You think I don't know you? You are my son. I always know when something's wrong" She stated raising her eyebrows at me.

I bit my lip looking off the side. "There's nothing going on" I stated looking at her. She pursed her lips looking at me. She glanced towards the stairs. "Is it something to do with our new guest?" She asked smiling. I let out a breath and looked down.

"You're scared of Nick aren't you?" She asked. I looked up at her. "Okay, that was creepy" I said looking at her, making her smile. "A mother always knows" She said tilting her head at me. I shook my head.

"It's nothing to worry about Mom, It's nothing anymore" I sighed as I walked over to the fridge. She hummed following me. "You're good at hiding your emotions Chris, just don't let that fact kill you" She said rubbing her hand over my back and then walking out of the kitchen.

I sighed as I leaned against the fridge. I wish I could express my emotions as easily as Nick or Matt, but It was hard. I was so scared to get hurt. So badly, that I hurt the one person I cared about in the process.

y/n pov

"Oh, will you go grab a pack of Pepsi? Chris just drank the last one" Nick said rolling his eyes. I felt my chest spike at the name, but I didn't let it show. I never did. I smiled all day long with Nick, laughing pretending everything was normal, then at night I would retreat into my room and cry and cry and cry.

Is it stupid? We weren't even together. It was like a small taste of glory and that was it. The small taste of what love was suppose to feel like and then reality hit and slapped you in the face. It's so weird to think you know someone or think you know how they feel and then to know you just imagined it all.

He hasn't been home these past few days. I think he's hiding from me, which I honestly appreciated. I'm not sure what I was going to do when I saw his face again.

Even his name mad me sick to my stomach.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?" He asked catching my attention. I looked up to see him smiling at me. "Pepsi right" I said shaking my head. "Go please so we can check out" He said shaking his head. I smiled and shook my head as I turned and walked out of the aisle.

I tried to shake the thoughts out of my mind as my eyes scanned the sodas. Don't think about Chris. Don't think about Chris. I spotted the Pepsi.

Chris.

My eyes started to water as I pulled out the pack and held it. I swallowed and pushed back the tears. I never wanted to look at a damn Pepsi can ever again.

I turned to walk out of the aisle to get rid of this out of my hand before I had a meltdown but I paused, seeing a famailar face.

"Mom?"

She turned and looked at me. She smiled walking back over to me. I stood frozen. "Hello" She sighed crossing her arms over her chest. I swallowed as I looked at her. The last time I saw her I told her I wasn't her daughter anymore.

"Glad to see you're alive" She said looking at me and raising an eyebrow. I clenched my jaw and looked to the side, attempting to adjust my grip of the pack of Pepsi.

"I thought I wasn't your mother anymore" She said looking at me. I blinked up at her. "You never acted like one in the first place" I mumbled looking at her. She rolled her eyes.

"So you've got a boyfriend now?" She asked raising her eyebrow. I furrowed my eyebrows looking up at her. "What are you talking about?" I asked shaking my head. She sighed as she shifted on her feet.

"The boy that came storming in my house and packed all of your things wasn't your boyfriend?" She asked shaking her head. My face dropped. Chris. She was talking about Chris. When he went to my house and got my things. My books. He went face to face with my mother just to get my things. My heart clenched.

"Chris?" I asked. She shrugged. "Is that his name?" She asked. I looked to the side clenching my jaw. "We're not together" I mumbled. She sighed. "Shame. He's cute" She said smiling at me. I glared at her for talking about him.

"Reminds me of your father when he was his age" She said making my grip the soda harder. "Chris is nothing like my father" I said through clenched teeth. She rolled her eyes. "From the way he stormed into the house, I didn't see much difference" She said glaring at me. I dropped the soda walking up to her.

"Don't speak about him like that. He's kind, he would never hurt me" I spat in her face. She raised her eyebrows, unfazed by my approach on her. "So defensive" She breathed. "Makes me think he already has" She said blankly. I swallowed feeling tears come to my eyes.

"I don't have time for this" I huffed stepping back and picking up the soda harshly. "He came back" She said making me stop. I turned back to her. "Your father. He's back" She swallowed looking at me. I bit my lip as I looked at her feeling chills run up my spine. Fighting the urge to ask her if she was okay.

"I don't care" I whispered before turning and walking back toward Nick, trying to shake the conversation that just happened. Nick looked up at me. "Where have you been? Did you get lost?" He joked smiling at me. I turned looking back but seeing no sign of my mother.

"No, I'm fine" I said looking back at him smiling attempting to shake all feeling and emotion of knowing my father was back in town.

"So when do I get to meet Holton?" I asked peering over his phone. He pulled his phone to his chest, looking over at me. "Soon" He stated going back to his texts. I rolled my eyes. "I'm starting to think he's not real" I rolled my eyes leaning back against his headboard. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh he's real alright" He smiled. I cringed and pushed him. "Dude, gross" Matt said from across from us, making me laugh. He set his phone down turning it off and turning towards me, smiling. "You really like him" I stated looking at his face. He smiled and looked down.

"Yeah" He breathed. "I thought it would be scary, but it's not" He shook his head. I just watched him as he spoke. "like being in love? It's pretty cool you know?" He smiled up at me. I swallowed and looked down.

"Well I guess you don't, but still you can imagine" He smiled placing his hand on my knee. I smiled softly up at him and nodded looking over at Matt who was now tuned out of the conversation.

"Yeah I can imagine" I said softly. He sighed leaning back and turning on his TV. I leaned back crossing my arms over my chest trying not to let his words effect me.

Suddenly I heard the door open making my heart drop, because I knew before I looked up who it was going to be. He peeked his light brown hair through the door and peered in making Matt and Nick look up. I stared down at my lap, not even letting myself look up at him. I was too scared.

"Hey" Matt said looking up from his phone. I felt Chris look over at me, but I stayed looking at my lap. "Hey, I'm going out. Don't wait up" Chris mumbled. I picked at my nails as a million thoughts ran through my head. Where was he going? Why was he going out? Who was he going with?

"Oh yeah, you're going to that party with Mia right?" Matt said looking up at him. I physcially felt my heart sink into my chest, feeling my emotions rush through me all the way to my fingertips. Like a wave of sadness rushing through me. I looked up catching Chris's eyes. I bit my lip and looked away, pretending it didn't effect me, but I had to forced the tears out of my eyes.

"Yeah I-" He paused. I didn't look up, but I felt my eyes start to sting. Already? He's moved on already? It hasn't even been a week and he was already going out with her? I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"I won't be long" He mumbled. I took in a breath. I was strong, but I didn't know If I was this strong. "Okay" Nick said looking up at him. Chris looked over at me one last time before sighing and closing the door.

And that was it.

He was gone.

In more ways than one.

There was someone else already. And I told him I loved him. I was heartbroken and he was going out with someone else. I swallowed. Don't think about it. Don't break. Not in front of Nick.

"Hey, can you go get some waters please?" Nick asked after a few seconds looking over at me. I looked over at him. "Seriously?" I asked. He pouted and looked over at me. I sighed before standing up off the bed. "You're the best friend everrr" He sang as I walked toward his door. I turned and looked at him shaking my head. "I know" I laughed as I closed the door.

The hallway was dark and quiet. I swallowed the all familar fear of maybe seeing or running into Chris being in the front of my head. But he wasn't even here. He was already gone. I didn't know where he went, it's not like he would tell me. I tried not to care, I really tried but it's all I could think about.

I started to walk down the hallway, glancing by his door picturing the scene of us kissing agaisnt the wall feeling my stomach clench. His lips were so soft. His eyes were so blue. Best of all he was him. We were together. I shook my head shaking the imagine from my head as I walked down the stairs.

I sighed as I walked into the kitchen, freezing in place seeing Chris standing leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me before freezing as well. Silence between us. Just looking at each other. I thought he'd be gone by now.

"Sorry, I was just getting some waters" My voice cracked as I walked up to the fridge, he just watched me. I let out a breath as I stared into the fridge, but I couldn't focus knowing his eyes were on me.

My hands shook as I reached for the waters, begging my emotions to stay deep in my chest. I looked up at him, he just looked at me. I closed the fridge looking at him. "So" I breathed looking down. "Where have you been?" I said quietly looking at him. He bit his lip as he looked at me.

"Elmer's" He stated. I nodded looking down. "How have you been?" He swallowed looking at me. I looked down at the waters, as if they were the most interesting thing in the room. "Good" I lied, and I felt the lie so deep in my chest it hurt me to say it. He let out a breath.

"That's good" He breathed. I looked up at him. He glanced at me. "How are you?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded and looked down. "Yeah, good" He whispered. I swallowed. This was hard. Is this how it was always going to be? So painful?

"Thought you had a party to go to" I swallowed looking at him. He looked at me letting out a breath. "I was about to leave" He nodded. I nodded looking at the ground. "So Mia-" I sighed, I couldn't help myself.

"It's not like that. She just needed someone to go with" He said shaking his head. I looked up at him nodding softly. I swallowed looking down at my feet.

"I saw my mom today" I blurted out making him look up at me with a concerned face. "You did? Where?" He asked stepping towards me. I just watched him. "The grocery store" I whispered. He looked down at me. "She said my dad was back" I swallowed. His face dropped.

"A-Are you okay? What else did she say?" He asked suddenly. I licked my lips and looked to the side. I felt his eyes on me burning into me. I sighed and looked down.

"She asked about my boyfriend" I mumbled and looked up at him. His eyes studied mine, confusion on his face. "The one who got all my stuff from her house" I said looking at him. He sighed and looked down. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I felt tears in my eyes.

"I can't go back there Chris" I whispered shaking my head. "I'm so scared that he knows where I am" My voice broke. "I can't see him again I-" I cried. I felt him wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest. "It's okay y/n, you don't have to go back there." He whispered against the top of my head as I shook against him.

I let out a hard breath, leaning back and wiping my eyes. he placed his hand on my face wiping my tears before pausing and pulling his hand back. I sighed and looked away from him.

"Why did you do this to me Chris?" I whispered looking away from him. He stayed silent next to me. I glanced over at him. "You broke my heart" I whispered shaking my head. He clenched his jaw and looked to the side.

"Did you even like me?" I cried shaking my head. "Was it worth it?" I asked as he looked over at me. "What was the point?" I said loudly shaking my head. He just stared at me.

"Was it just a game to see if i'd fall for it?" I asked unable to control the words coming out of my chest. "Y/n" He sighed. "No i get it" I shook my hands stepping back from him.

"I don't get a happy ending. I get that. I've known that for a long time" I stated looking at him. "The only part that's fucked up Chris, is that you knew that" I shook my head. "I told you everything with my family and you listened" I said clenching my jaw.

"If it was some game then why did you let me talk to you about that? Did you even care?" I cried shaking my head. He stepped towards me. "Of course I cared" He said looking down at me.

"You don't" I shook my head. "You never did" I swallowed. He just looked sadly at me as I stood in front of him, biting my lip. "Chris why did you let me fall in love with you if you knew you were going to take it all away?" I asked shaking my head pleading for answers. He looked down.

"You don't love me" He whispered. I sighed stepping forwards. "Yes I do. Chris I love you" I stated shaking my head. He looked up at me with an expression I couldn't read.

"You what?"

I froze. Chris froze. My eyes went wide as I looked at Chris. He looked behind me, all color draining from his face. I turned and saw Nick standing there staring at us with a confused expression on his face. I felt my heart start to beat out of my chest as I stared at my best friend.

No. No. No. No.

"Nick" I stepped towards him. He stepped back looking between us. I swallowed as he looked over at Chris. "Chris?" Nick whispered. Chris stood frozen. "Nick, I can explain. I'll explain everything just--" I started to say but he just shook his head stepping back.

"Oh my god" He breathed looking down before turning and walking out. Tears poured out of my eyes. "Nick please wait--" I cried but I felt my arm being pulled back. I turned and saw Chris shaking his head.

"Wait y/n" He said. I pulled my arm away from him. "Don't" I swallowed. "Don't touch me" I said shaking my head as I turned and followed Nick outside. I pushed the door open.

"Y/n don't" He stated warningly as he walked down the driveway. "Nick, please just let me explain" I cried as I walked up to him. He shook his head and didn't look at me as he unlocked his car.

"Nick please. It's not what it looks like" I shook my head. He glared over at me. "Really? Because it looks like you were just telling my brother you were in love with him" He spat looking over at me. My lip quivered as I looked at my best friend who looked at me like I was a stranger.

"Please" I whispered. He clenched his jaw. "So what? Were you just using me to get close to Chris?" He asked looking away from him. I shook my head. "What? No Nick. No, you are the most important person in my life. Please just listen to me" I said quickly. He looked down at me.

"I was not using you, you have to believe me. It just happened" I breathed looking at him. "I don't believe anything you say and I never will again" He breathed before opening the car door and closing it. I just watched him, tears streaming down my face as he pulled out of the driveway.

I swallowed turning back towards the house seeing Chris standing in the doorway. He looked down at me, worry plastered all over his face. I just shook my head and looked away from him as a sob escaped my throat. I pushed past him and ran up the stairs, hearing no footsteps following me as I slammed my door and pressed my back against it.

I covered my mouth to cover the noise of my sobs as I fell against the door sliding down it, as the tears poured out of eyes. I shook my head. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Please let this be a dream. I cried against my hand, the muffled noise of my cries the only thing echoing through the room.

I tried to breathe but I couldn't. I didn't know what to do. I lost both of them. I was completely and utterly alone.

I don't know how I got here. My feet just led me here. It wasn't hard to find the address. Just one text message now I stood outside of a loud house party. I tilted my head. I stopped crying on my way here. Now I was just numb. Coming into an acceptance of my fate and what I did to get me to this point.

Now I was just here. Looking at all of the people standing outside of the house. Laughing. Smiling. Happy. I swallowed. I could be like them. I could try. Hell, I had nothing left. I could try.

I looked down at my feet and I thought about everywhere I had gone. Everything I had experienced. They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe that was true. But if I never loved him, I would still be happy. I would still have my best friend.

So maybe that was all bullshit.

"You just gonna stand there or you walking in?" A guy said walking beside me. I looked up at him. He stopped and smiled at me. His hair was longer, kind of like Chris. But it wasn't Chris. It was just some other kid. I swallowed.

"I haven't decided yet" I stated wrapping my arms around myself. He smiled and shook my head. "Do I know you?" He asked tilting his head at me. I shrugged. "I don't think so" I stated. He smiled and nodded towards the party.

"So I take it you weren't invited?" He asked looking at the house. "What?" I asked looking at him. "This is my house" He said shrugging chuckling slightly. I looked at the house and then towards the boy. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know" I mumbled looking down at my feet. He shook his head stepping towards me.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You can come in if you want" He stated looking at me. I swallowed turning towards the house. The loud music. It was all overwhelming. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should just go home.

But I didn't know if Nick had gone back yet, or if he wanted to see me yet. That scared me more than the party.

I turned back to him. "You left your own house party?" I asked looking back at him. He smiled holding up a black bag. "Just to get more alcohol" He stated looking at the bag. I looked over the bag. "Alcohol?" I asked as I stared at the bag. He moved the bag back down to his side, chuckling slightly.

"Are you from here?" He asked. I nodded. "I went to Somerville" I stated looking at him. He nodded. "So you aren't from space" He stated making me furrow my eyebrows. "What?" I asked staring at him. He smiled pulling out a bottle.

"You looked at the alcohol like you didn't know what it was" He stated looking at me. I let out a breath. "Yeah, no I know what it is" I nodded swallowing. He smiled.

"I'm Paxton" He said holding out a hand. I looked down at him before shaking it loosely. "Y/n" I stated. He smiled and nodded. "Will you please come into my party y/n?" He asked tilting his head at me making me smile. I let out another hard breath.

"Yeah, I guess" I stated nodding. He smiled and motioned me towards the house. I followed him looking down at my shoes, absolutely terrified to see Chris. I couldn't see Chris. What was I doing here?

We walked into the loud house, the noise overwhemling me. I scanned the room breifly, not seeing any sign of Chris or that Mia girl. Which at this point I didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

"Hey" I heard his voice again making me look over at him. He motioned me over to him, I hadn't noticed I stopped walking. I moved through the crowd of people before he stopped in front of a counter pulling out bottles of liquor out of the bag and grabbing some cups.

I just watched him, scanning the vodka and jack laid in front of me. My heart beating out of my chest. Visions of a Jack bottle being thrown at the wall beside my head flashing through my mind as he placed a cup out in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked looking up at him. He smiled over at me. "I'm getting you a drink" He stated as if it was the polite thing to do. "Oh I don't know" I said shaking my head. He raised his eyebrows. "You can't come to my party and not drink" He stated looking down at me.

I attempted to move past the cockiness in his voice. I only liked when Chris did that. Chris. I felt my heart clench. No. Numb. Forget. You're fine. You're okay.

He took the vodka and unscrewed it before pouring quite a bit into my cup. I just watched as he poured it. He picked up a sprite bottle before pouring that into my cup as well, just not as much as the vodka.

He did the same in his cup. He picked up both cups before handing me mine. I looked down at the cup and then up at him. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me. I looked down at the cup.

My parents always got angry when they drank, but I looked around and no one looked angry. They all looked happy. They all looked like they were actually happy. Maybe I was missing something. Maybe alcohol wasn't bad, maybe I just programed myself to think that way. Just because of my parents. Maybe It would be different for me. It wouldn't hurt to try it. If I hated it I would stop.

"Fuck it" I said looking up at him. He smiled and nodded. "Fuck it" He agreed as we both lifted the cups to our mouths. At first it tasted like sprite, but as I swallowed and took a breath a horrible taste of hand sanitizer filled my mouth.

I squeezed my eyes shut and coughed, tasting the alcohol. He laughed down at me. "You okay?" He asked placing his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, shaking my head. "That tastes horrible" I shook my head. He shrugged. "It's get better the more you drink it" He said nodding at me. I looked up at him and then back down at the drink.

I drank a bit more slowly trying to get it down. I shivered and looked at him. He laughed lightly. "See you're a natural" He smiled. I smiled and shook my head. "Thanks" I said shaking my head.

"So you've got a boyfriend?" He asked leaning into me. I sighed and looked down. "Not exactly" I said looking up at him. He just looked down at me. His eyes were brown. I didn't like brown eyes. I liked Chris's blue eyes. They were pretty. His were just dark.

"Not exactly?" He question. I rolled my eyes lifting my drink up to my lips again. "No, I don't have a boyfriend" I stated looking up at him. He nodded tilting his cup up and finishing his drink. I just watched him. How did he drink it that fast?

"You gotta catch up love" He smiled pointing down at my drink. I stared at him. Love? Everything about this felt wrong, because it wasn't with Chris. But I knew I would never have this with Chris. Not again. I swallowed.

This wasn't what I was here to do. Mourn over my relationship with Chris. I was here to forget. To be numb. To be normal. For one night.

I nodded before lifting the cup up my lips and drinking the rest of it, trying not to focus on the taste. He cheered next to me as I shook my head. "I'll get you another one" He smiled taking my cup. I just looked up at him. This was going to be a long night.

After he refilled my cup four times, I was drunk. I didn't know I was drunk for a little bit but when I turned and it felt like I was on a carousel, i knew I was. This is what It feels like huh? I giggled to myself leaning over laughing slightly.

The taste did get better the more I drank. And the punch line of Paxton's jokes became funnier. But now I couldn't really stand up straight. It was like I lost the ability to move around with ease. And I lost the abiltiy to take anything seriously. My body felt fuzzy and I hadn't even thought about Chris. It was working.

I reached for the bottle slightly stumbling. "Woah there" Paxton said grabbing my waist. I smiled and shook my head as I pulled the bottle towards me. "I want more" I said closing my eyes. He took the bottle out of my hands.

"You want more? Are you sure?" He asked. I opened my eyes and It was almost like I was looking at Chris. They looked very similar. Except for the eyes. The eyes reminded me that he wasn't him. No one was.

I nodded. "I do" I smiled. He shook his head as he poured more into my cup. I smiled and pulled the cup towards me, lifting it up my mouth. I downed the whole thing putting the cup back down. He raised his eyebrows at me. I smiled loosing my footing slightly stumbling against him. He held me up.

"Have you ever drank before?" He asked looking down at me. I sighed pushing off of him. "No" I smiled. He sighed shaking his head. "But this is fun" I smiled pressing my hands against my face. He shook his head before grabbing my hand and dragging me through the party.

"Where are we going?" I smiled pulling him towards me. He looked back at me. "We're sitting down, you can't stand" He stated as we walked into the living room and sitting down on the couch. I felt the music move through my body, like it was speaking directly to me. I smiled at the feeling.

"I'm doing a great job standing, look" I motioned to myself I stood in front of him spinning around and slightly stumbling into someone. They turned glaring at me. "Sorry" I laughed.

"She's fine Tyler, she's just showing me how good she is at standing" Paxton said looking over at the boy. He turned to me. "Yeah?" He asked looking at me. "I'm doing a great job" I nodded at him. He shook his head.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked looking down at me. I shurgged looking over at Paxton. "She's had like five drinks" He stated. Tyler looked down at me scanning my figure. "With your body weight? You're fucked" He laughed at me. I glared at him.

"I'm fine" I stated walking over to sit next to Paxton. "Yeah, she's fine" He stated for me. I looked over at him. He put his arm on the back of the couch behind my head. I glanced at him before leaning forward.

I really didn't want him getting the wrong idea. "So what made you show up to my party Y/n?" He asked leaning into me. I shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to party" I smiled at him. He looked down at my lips. "Yeah?" He whispered. I nodded turning away from him.

"I don't think i've ever seen a girl as pretty as you" He whispered making me look up at him. I just blinked at him. "Yeah? Look around the room" I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling the room start to spin as that last drink began to hit me. Oh no.

I swallowed. The room's not spinning y/n focus. He spoke but I didn't hear him. I looked up at him, my vision going in and out. All I saw was him staring at me.

"I think I drank too much" I breathed, the room beginning to feel stuffy. He smiled and nodded. "I think you drank too much because someone didn't treat you right" I heard him say. I furrowed my eyebrows leaning back against the couch, feeling it took too much energy to sit up anymore.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked looking at him. He shrugged. "You're a pretty girl, and you came here alone" He stated. I looked away from him, realizing just how close he was to me.

I put my hand against his chest pushing him back, moving my face away. He grabbed my hand and leaned into me. "What?" He smiled. I turned my head away as I felt him grip my leg. My heart beat out of my chest.

"I'm not kissing you" I stated quickly, smelling the alcohol on his breath. "Why not? You're pretty" He whispered leaning in towards my neck. I didn't have the mental capacity to push him away. I shook my head, feeling sweat beading at my forehead. Oh god what did i do?

I felt his lips graze my neck before I felt him being pulled off of me completely. I looked up the room spinning but I could make out someone holding the guy by the shirt, he was now standing.

"Get off her" He said clenching his jaw staring at the dude. He pushed the dude back making him stumbling back into some people. I let out a breath when I realized it was Chris. Paxton glared back at him.

"Dude this one is mine, get your own" Paxton yelled back at him. Chris charged up to him, but pushing him back. "That is my own. She's mine" He said hovering over the dude. I've never seen Chris so angry. I felt myself start to breath heavily.

"Chris" I breathed. His head snapped to me before leaning down next to me. "Are you okay?" He asked looking down at me. I smiled from his presence and nodded, laying against him. He froze.

"Are you drunk?" He asked making me giggle against him. He grabbed my arm pulling me to my feet. "Ow" I said holding my arm back. He turned to me. "Why the hell are you drinking?" He asked looking at me. I frowned looking at my shoes.

"Why are you yyyyelling at me?" I said looking up at him. He took in a breath closing his eyes. "Chris? What are you doing? Who is this?" I heard a voice come up to us. I turned seeing the perfect blonde barbie right next to me. I smiled slightly. Mia.

"Y/n don't" I heard Chris's voice.

"You're the girl who he fucks" I said pointing at her. Her eyes went wide. "What? Who the hell are you?" She said crossing her arms over her chest. I looked over at Chris smiling. "Apparently his" I said leaning into his chest. Her face hardened. Chris put his hands on my shoulder pushing me back up.

"What?" Her face turned to Chris. Chris sighed. "Is this why you won't even kiss me?" She tilted her head. I put my hand over my mouth to muffle a laugh. If I was sober, I would not find this siutation funny. But right now it was the funniest thing i've ever seen.

"No--Yes--Kinda. I can't have this conversation right now. I have to get her home" Chris said shaking his head and wrapping his arm under me holding me up. I smiled at her as she glared at me. "She can't handle herself? Chris you came here with me" She said angrily.

"And now he's leaving with me" I smiled. "Stop talking" Chris said looking down at me. I just smiled and looked down at the ground. "Mia, I'm sorry" He shook his head as we turned and moved us through the crowd.

We walked outside the fresh air hitting me. I stumbled over gripping the railing, swallowing back a gag. I didn't know alcohol was suppose to make you lose every sense you had. I couldn't even stand.

"Y/n" Chris sighed as he grabbed my waist, pulling me up. I groaned leaning into his chest. We walked down the steps and I swallowed feeling his hands around me a little too much. I felt my lip quiver.

"Chris get off" I pushed him, stumbling but then straighting out and looking at him. He sighed shaking his head. "What?" I spat shaking my head. "What?" He asked raising his eyebrows. "What? Really? You want to know what?" He asked stepping towards me. I turned my head crossing my arms over my chest.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" He asked stepping up to me. I clenched my jaw and looked away from him. "Getting drunk with a random dude?" He asked shaking his head. I swallowed feeling tears prick at my eyes. "How could you be so irresponsible?" He asked towering over me.

"You can't be that stupid, really. Something bad could have happened. You don't know him, you don't know what he was thinking--" He said shaking his head. "And you do?" I asked shaking my head. "I have a few ideas from the way he was grabbing you" He clenched his jaw. I shook my head.

"Sorry, did you want me to let him continue?" He asked throwing his hands up. "No!" I screamed at him. "Chris I don't want any man to touch me ever again but you!" I screamed at him. "Don't you see how much you destroyed me? And you don't even care!" i yelled at him shaking my head. His angry face softened as I yelled at him.

"You don't even care" I whispered shaking my head feeling tears come to my eyes. He sighed walking up to me and placing his hand on my shoulder. "Y/n, just sit down" He said softly. I pushed his hand off me.

"No" I cried pushing his hand off me. "I'll just go home so you can get back to your girlfriend" I said looking up at him, feeling tears come down my face. "She's not my girlfriend and she's never going to be my girlfriend" He stated calmly. "Yeah and why's that?" I mumbled looking at him. He bit his lip and looked at me.

I shook my head turning my head. "You're right. I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry I ruined your party" I mumbled walking past him. He grabbed my arm. "No" He said pulling me back to him. I looked up at him.

"Don't walk away" He stated. I ripped my arm. "What? You can but I can't?" I asked looking at him. He stepped towards me. "Not while you're this drunk. No you can't" He shook his head at me. I swallowed. "I'm not that drunk" I lied. He raised his eyebrows looking down at me.

"Yeah walk in a straight line" He said pointing to the side. I glared up at him before moving to where he pointed as I put one foot in front of the other. I stared down at my feet as I attempted to walk. I held my hands out for balance, but still stumbled.

"Okay, stop" He said walking up to me, grabbing my arm. I pushed him off me. "No I can do it" I swallowed as I continued to walk. He sighed stepping back, but I still stumbled over.

"Y/n stop" He said again. Tears filled my eyes. "No" I cried. He walked up to me grabbing my waist. "Stop" He whispered looking down at me shaking his head. I looked down as tears ran down my face.

"I lost everyone" I cried shaking my head. He just looked down at me. "I don't have anyone, no one loves me" I cried placing my head against his chest. He bit his lip as he looked down at me.

"I'm so scared Chris" I cried. He held me against him.

"I love you"

My cries stopped as the silence of the air surrounded us. I pulled back looking up at him. He looked down at me, concern all over his face. "I love you, y/n" He said again. I stepped back shaking my head.

"N-No you don't" I said shaking my head. He held his hands up. "Why do you think i'm acting like this?" He asked looking at me. "What like going out with other girls? Is that what you're referring to? You don't love me" I shook my head at him. He stepped towards me.

"I love you so much. It's killing me" He said shaking his head. I just watched him. "I've loved you for so long that i'm afraid if i tell you, i'll scare you. I love you so much, it's killing me" He said shaking his head. I just blinked at him.

I held my arm out, putting my hand to my chest. "Y/n? What's wrong?" He asked grabbing my arm. I pushed him away. "Are you okay?" He asked quickly. I shook my head as I leaned over.

He moved next to quickly grabbing my hair as I puked everything I drank onto the ground next to us. He sighed, rubbing my back as I puked. I groaned as I wiped my mouth.

"Are you okay?" He asked leaning down to me. I sighed and sat down on the ground laying down looking up. He sighed smiling slightly down at me before laying down next to me.

"That was really gross" I mumbled, making him chuckle. "It happens to the best of us" He said turning his head and looking over at me. I looked over at him. He smiled sadly at me.

"Do you really?" I whispered. He nodded. "So badly" He whispered back making me close my eyes. I sighed looking back to the sky. "I get why my parents drink" I stated. He just looked at me.

"I forgot about you for a while" I said turning back to him. Hurt plastered all over his face. "It worked until it didn't" I mumbled. He licked his lips.

"We're you going to kiss that guy if I didn't pull him off of you?" He asked slightly. I sat up, he sat up with me. "No" I said looking down at my lap. "Why not?" He asked looking at me. "He didn't have blue eyes" I said smiling slightly looking up at him. He smiled looking down at me.

"Were you going to kiss that girl?" I asked looking at him. He shook his head. "Why not?" I asked. "She's beautiful" I whispered looking down. "She's not even in the same world as you" He whispered making bit my lip.

I stood up.

"I can't Chris" I shook my head. He stood up quickly. "Why not?" He asked looking down at me. I shook my head. "You've done nothing but hurt me, why should I trust anything you say? All you do is hurt me" I sighed shaking my head. He sighed looking down.

"I'll explain everything when you're sober y/n I promise" He said shaking his head. I swallowed looking away. "Chris I can't" I whispered again. "Y/n please. I'm begging you. I'm so sorry" He said grabbing my hands. I shook my head.

"I'm not doing this again" I swallowed looking up at him. He shook his head. "No" He whispered. I pulled my hands back. "I'm sorry" I whispered stepping back and turning.

"Y/n, wait please don't do this" He said as I walked away. I just looked down. "Y/n, wait I have to tell you something" He said but I didn't stop I just kept walking.

"It's about Nick" He breathed making me stop in my tracks. I turned and looked at him, my heart starting to beat. I just stared at me.

He closed his eyes and turned his head.

"It's Holton" He said. I stepped towards him. "What about Holton?" I asked looking at him. He swallowed. He pointed towards the house.

"He was in there" He stated. I looked towards the house, shaking my head not understanding. "He was kissing someone" He said softly. I felt my heart drop. No. My heart broke for Nick.

"He was kissing a girl"

With that I was completely sober.

woahhh that was a long oneeeee hope u loved it sorry if it was all over the place

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thisismeracing · 5 months

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Pretty Liar | LN4 (Patreon exclusive)

― Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader ― Word count: 5.6k ― Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol; +18! graphic description of sex (p in v, oral - both, fem and male receiving). ― Summary: Ever since Lando was a kid he knew his future would bring fame somehow, always involved with racing and having just what it needed to become a Formula 1 driver, he was happy with everything it entailed, up until said future became his present and he realized there was also a rough side to the fame. That’s why, when he found you – someone who had no idea who he was, he kept his career from you. He would tell you, and he would eventually clarify the situation, he had it all planned, however, all it took was one week. One week for you to discover that what you thought started as a beautiful story, was actually a perfectly told lie. Lando was pretty, but he was also a liar. Now he had to find a way to explain everything, and you had to find it in you to forgive him.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Some scientists believe that it takes around ten minutes for an average person to make an everyday decision. Yet, the moment Yn’s eyes met Lando’s, and he smiled at her, she knew they would go home together that night, and this exchange took less than a second.

His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t remember where. She thought maybe it was from an old Instagram post their friends in common had made. Maybe they saw each other in a pub before. The city wasn’t that big, their crowds were similar, and they were both young.

Lando seemed surprised with the news, “You don’t…know me?”

“Should I?” Yn asks, quirking her eyebrows with a glimmer of humor in her stare.

He shook his head before Oliver, their common friend, could say something, “Nah, it’s just…I’m a DJ, I thought maybe you had seen something about me around a party you know?!”

Yn bit her lower lip, chuckling. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you must be a great DJ, but I’ve never heard of a Lando Norris before.”

“Now I’m hurt,” the Brit turned to their friend, and Oliver’s laugh boomed around.

That was how their first interaction went, with both aware of the tension line being pulled. Lando had never seen someone match his energy like she did, and Yn had never felt that giddy with a guy before. When someone grabbed Oliver away, the speakers gave space to a remixed tune of Zedd and Yn asked what Lando was playing that night, or if he was playing at all.

He smiled at her showing the small gap between his teeth which she decided was one of her favorite features of his, after his eyes, “It depends. What do you want me to play?”

“Oooh, smooth, I like it!” she giggled, taking a sip of her drink, and using the seconds to breathe in some air. “Would you mind playing Rihanna?”

“Most recent ones or oldies?”

“Around 2010s would be perfect.”

“I know exactly the song,” he announced like a promise, and Yn nodded, grabbing his hand, lacing their fingers, and starting to head in the direction of the bar. It would be an hour or so until the pub’s DJ finished his thing.

“Do you wanna drink something?” Yn stopped to say in his ears now that the song seemed much louder and so did the crowd. Lando’s free hand grabbed her waist, and he shouted back that he had just grabbed his refill, but he was fine going with her.

Truth was, Lando didn’t even like the bar area that much, drunk people would tend to gather there sometimes, spill their alcohol, scream, and try creating scenes, but something about Yn’s eyes would make him follow her to hell, and they had just met. That felt a tad scary, but he wouldn’t think too much about it, trying to focus his mind on Danny’s words about enjoying the butterflies, enjoying the naivety, and enjoying the nerves that came with it.

**********************

“I still gotta learn how to bake properly.”

“We could try together. I know a thing or two about sugary recipes,” she suggested. “Meanwhile, you cook the main dish and I make the dessert—” she stopped mid-sentence, putting the palm of her hand on her forehead. “We forgot about dessert, Lan!”

But the pilot can only grin, watching in awe as her lips pout slightly.

“I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” her tone started with a confused hint, but when their eyes met and Yn caught the way his gaze drifted across her body like a caress bringing a shiver along. Her legs instinctively crossed in search of the slight tinge of pressure.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” his grin was wicked, and the way his head pointed to the space in front of him at the table almost made Yn whimper. Lando pushed the plate and glass to the side, watching as Yn got up and walked to him. The noises of the city came through the open windows, just like the cold wind, creating the perfect harmony with the way her bare steps hit the ground, the slight sound coming from it.

The legs of Lando’s chair scraped on the ground when he pushed it just a tiny bit to make room for Yn. She sat on his lap, legs on either side of him, caging him in place, and giving him the feeling of her bare cunt against his dress pants.

“Aren’t you wearing anything under the dress?” he asked, mocking shock on his expression.

Yn merely shook her head, “It would just ruin it anyway.”

And just like that cooking conversations and random subjects were long forgotten, their lips smashed together in a heated kiss, and Yn moaned into his mouth when Lando gripped her waist and guided her movements on top of him, his cock hardening with each motion.

*****************

“Come in my mouth,” she rasped, it sounded like a plea, and Lando couldn’t help but give it to her. At that moment he would give her anything and everything she asked for. The way her eyes blinked at him from between his legs, mascara a bit smudged on her cheeks, lips swollen from sucking, she looked like an angel.

And he couldn’t deny an angel its request.

So when her mouth enveloped him again, cheeks hollowing and tongue twirling Lando gripped the table, hips buckling slightly and body finally succumbing to pleasure. He watched as his cum leaked from her mouth, his dick still spurting the white liquid and making it land on her chin and collarbone.

Yn grinned up at him, licking her lips.

He scooped cum from her chin using his finger and she eagerly opened her mouth, sucking his thumb and smiling up at him again. At that moment, he wanted them to be intimate enough, so he could grab a camera and save that image. Frame it. Store it under locks. Have it with him forever. Something about the way she looked and what they had just done stirred his insides again.

“Can I have mine now?” he scooped more cum this time from her collarbone and Yn nodded, parting her lips to him again.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece. I've been meaning to write a long piece for Lan for a while now, and it felt good to put this together, I'm looking forward to writing more for him, let me know if you wanna see it! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia) for proofreading and beta-reading this (Ily, Dee!).

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vqnrouged · 14 days

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄 ── ᡣ𐭩

↳ 639 words

↳ tw: suggestive content below the cut!

↳ romantic . ݁₊ ⊹ .

↳ content | what it’s like to make out with the retired fae general himself, lilia vanrouge…

↳ i’ve never written anything like this before, but i had an idea so i went along with it! hope you all enjoy!

#𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 ᡣ𐭩 — where are his hands usually placed on your body?

♱ ˖° lilia tends to be rather handsy, he loves to hold you while he kisses you senseless. one hand is almost always on your waist, and the other is holding your face so he can make sure you’re only focused on him. the eye contact he maintains with you holds a lustful undertone, but the cheeky smile you feel him making against your lips tells you his intentions are something less lewd. the fae can get so lost in your taste and lips that he merely forgets where the both of you are, which is incredibly unlike him. this leads him into weaving his hands through your hair, giving you tugs every now and then to tease you. sometimes he can’t help but want to do so, you look so cute!

───

#𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ᡣ𐭩 — is he sloppy, calculated, or just cheeky?

♱ ˖° to no surprise, lilia is a big tease when he’s kissing you. occasionally he may peck you playfully on the corner of your lips before he brings you into a long, passionate one filled with all the feelings he can’t manage to say with words. the unpredictable nature of his affections leads to a truly entertaining intimate occasion with you, which lilia could never object to. and, this fae is also a lip biter. with his sharp fangs, and the present opportunity to take a little taste of your lips, he can almost never pass up on it. he will nip at your lips as he continues to smile against you, savoring the flavor of your blood and your taste. however, if you yelp in pain at his nipping, then he will tone it down a bit and apologize for inflicting pain on you. he wants you to enjoy the kisses he gives you as much as he loves receiving yours, so cutting it down on the nipping isn’t much of a problem for him.

“sorry, my dear! i may have gotten a little carried away, kufufu. i do hope you can forgive this old fae.”

───

#𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐒 ᡣ𐭩 — where are his favorite places to be intimate with you?

♱ ˖° the bat fae isn’t really one for indulging in that desire in front of a large group of people, but if you lead him over to a more secluded spot in the garden then he just might just give in. he enjoys the thrill of someone being able to hear you two from your hidden spot, and if you were caught he’d play it off teasingly like he wasn’t just sucking face with you. it truly bewilders you how one moment he’s kissing you so fervently, then the next he’s talking down a heartslabyul student into believing that they saw nothing. after the student left the scene, clearly not convinced, lilia walked right back up to you again. however, he didn’t kiss you. he merely whispered something into your ear before making his way to his next class, leaving you flustered in the lush green garden where you once had been so entangled.

“now, darling. i’m terribly disappointed that heartslabyul boy interrupted our romantic escapade, we were just getting to the best part. i assure you we’ll continue this later…”

───

#𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ᡣ𐭩 — what does he feel when he gets to make out with you?

♱ ˖° unadulterated adoration, you’re quite literally the love of his life. he had loved others in the past, but none of them had ever come to fruition. he thought he was going to live out the last of his days alone in the land of the red dragon, but you changed his plans drastically. you had shown him a love like no other, unintentionally sweet talking your way into his heart. now that you had made him attached, he was never letting go. the way he desperately clings to you as he holds you, the teasing yet love filled kisses he places on your lips and neck, the warm glow in his crimson eyes as he stares into your own; it all means i love you.

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 ♱

#@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 ♱#lilia twst #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst x you #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #headcanons

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hearts4hughes · 9 months

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hits different | trevor zegras

(trevor zegras x fem! reader)

a/n: i’ve had this idea in my notes forever, and i’ve just managed to finish it😭 it took wayyyy too long, but i’m proud of this!

warnings: intoxication, alcohol, angst, light swearing

the pulsating bass reverberates through your body as you stand at the bar, drink in hand, trying to wash your hands of the memories of a love gone wrong. your mind drifts to the mess that trevor made of you and the hurtful images that linger in your thoughts.

you wondered if he had already moved on. if he was cooking for another girl at his apartment, or if he had strolled through the streets of anaheim with her hand in hand. had he forgotten about you? three years of love washed down the drain like dirt and filth as he confided in another woman with his love. just the mere thought sends waves of nausea through your body.

it didn’t make sense. you thought breaking up with him was the right decision, but since then, all you’ve felt was pure heartbreak.

it all started with the duck’s bad season. he was frustrated and stressed. he thought he was the problem- even though he wasn’t- and he went into an emotional hole. at the time, you didn’t understand what was happening. you thought he fell out of love with you, so as hard as it was, you broke up with him. the second the words flew off your tongue, he broke down- sobbing, yelling, begging, anything that would help you stay.

you can't help but reflect on how you used to move on so easily, like switching out partners and escaping town, but everything feels different now. the bars you visit play songs that remind you of what once was, and it hurts like nothing you've experienced before.

“y/n,” julia calls out, snapping you back into reality, “you have to stop thinking of him, it’s not going to help.” her hand rubs comfortingly up and down your back. you look at her, your face completely blank of emotion. it’s easier said than done to forget about someone who preoccupied so much of your time, and the alcohol in your system isn’t helping.

“i know, i just,” you stammer, “i just can’t escape him. it’s like he’s haunting me. everywhere i look i’m reminded of the memories we made.” she looks at you with pity.

“love is a lie, babe. you know this already.” she says- the same thing she’s been telling you since forever. “remember when you broke up with aaron?” she asks and you nod in response. “you thought he was the one and that you’d never ever move on, but after a little bit you did. you just need to give it time and you’ll get over him.”

whining, you grab your shot, throwing your head back and downing it. your nose scrunched as the alcohol burned down your throat. “but what if i don’t want to get over him, jul? i don’t want to forget about him. i just want to be with him, i just want trevor.” your words were slurred- almost incoherent.

people around you began to stare and watch the unfolding scene. protectively, julia brought you into a hug, shielding your face from everyone before they saw your tears. “let’s get you home, honey.” she cooed, wrapping her arm around your waist and helping you out of your seat.

julia brought you home, making sure you got into your house safely before driving away. you swung the front door open and stumbled into your apartment. the digital clock on the wall read 2:20am. you ripped off your heels, discarding them somewhere in your living room, and walking into your bedroom. your hair was a frizzy mess, lipstick smudged, mascara smeared everywhere, but you could care less.

you find yourself alone in your room, surrounded by memories of the past, with one particular item catching your eye- trevor’s hat. it sits on a shelf, seemingly untouched since the day you parted ways. the sight of it evokes a rush of bittersweet emotions, and you can't help but pick it up, feeling its fabric against your fingertips. the hat holds a piece of him, a piece of the love you once shared, and the weight of the memories is overwhelming.

as you hold the hat in your hands, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. memories of your time together flood your mind – the laughter, the inside jokes, the intimate moments shared under that very hat. you miss him, and the feeling intensifies with each passing day. the warmth and comfort that his presence once brought into your life are now a distant memory.

you bring the hat close to your chest, hugging it tightly as if it was him. the scent of his cologne, faint but still lingering, brings you back to those tender moments when he would embrace you, and your heart aches.

with each tear that falls, you let yourself feel the grief, the longing, and the emptiness that comes with a wound that hasn’t completely healed. you find yourself whispering his name into the fabric, wishing he were there, holding you.

suddenly, you hear a key turning in the door down the hallway. is it him? is it trevor? or has julia come to take you away from your apartment and the suffocating reminders of him?

the door closes and you hear footsteps approaching your room. the footsteps become louder as the mystery person gets closer. you close your eyes, not bothered to know who it is; however, a small part of you hopes, even wishes that it’s him.

“love?” he calls out, causing your eyes to shoot open. you see him standing in the doorway- a blurry version of him due to the alcohol and crying. a frown adorns his lips as he looks down at you. your tear stained face and bloodshot eyes give him a hint of what you were just doing. “oh y/n,” he coos, making his way over to you and repositioning you into his lap.

his arms snake around your body, pulling you close to his chest. you open your mouth to say something, but the words get caught in your throat. he presses reassuring kisses to the top of your head as you cry into his embrace.

"i’m so sorry, y/n," he whispers, his voice filled with remorse. "i messed up, and i’ve been a mess ever since you left." you try to find the right words to say, but your emotions are too overwhelming, your heart too raw. instead, you bury your face in his chest, holding on to him as if he might slip away again.

"fuck, i thought you moved on," you manage to say through your tears, your voice shaking. "all i could imagine was you with another girl, trev.”

he sights, gently rubbing your back. "no, love, there hasn't been anyone else. i’ve been miserable without you. you were always the one."

“i thought you had fallen out of love with me, that’s why i broke up with you.” your voice trembles with hurt as he feels a pang of guilt in his heart.

his expression softens, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "i was going through a rough time, and I didn't know how to handle it. i thought i was the problem, and i didn't want to bother you with my struggles. i never meant to hurt you." you move your head away from his body, staring deeply into his eyes. he’s been crying too. in that moment, you realize that he's hurting too, and maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for healing and forgiveness.

"i miss you, trevor," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "my friends try to take me out to have fun and get drunk, but i always end up slurring your name until someone puts me in a car. they’re going to stop inviting me soon.” you joke- a coping mechanism you’ve had since you were young.

he lets out a small laugh, bringing his hand up to wipe away stray tears, “i’m here now," he replies, "and i want to try again, to make things right. i love you, and my life is a fucking wreck without you."

“i love you too,” your voice is soft and sincere. a smile graces his lips and for the first time since forever, your lips connect with his, reviving what you thought was gone.

#hearts4hughes #nora’s writings 💐#anaheim ducks #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras imagine #hockey blurb #nhl imagine #hockey boys #nhl imagines

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widowbitessting · 6 months

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imagine baby and mj go on a lil girls trip/vacation overseas during their school holidays and the trio is sad they wont get to see baby for a while and tries to convince baby to stay 🤭

This isn't Goodbye...A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 1297 words

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

Wanda (11:34): Today is the day.

Wanda (11:34): You’ll remember us, won’t you, sweet?

Wanda (11:35): When you’re all the way out there in Spain.

Y/N (11:35): Have you finished being dramatic, mommy? 😂 I’m trying to finish packing

Natasha (11:36): You haven’t finished packing? You need to set off at 12! Xx

Y/N (11:37): Plenty of time, don’t worry

Carol (11:37): If you had let us help you pack…

Y/N (11:40): No chance, if you three had packed for me I’d be wearing ankle length dresses the entire time😂

Natasha (11:41): If we were coming with you, you wouldn’t be packing underwear.

Y/N (11:41): Oh, underwear! I forgot underwear!

Carol (11:41): Tell me you’re joking, Y/N!!

Wanda (11:42): That’s it I’m coming with you.

Natasha (11:43): Y/N Y/L/N you had better be joking.

Wanda (11:45): Y/N! Check your phone before we blow it up

Y/N (11:46): Packed them! That was a close one 🤭

Natasha (11:46): Please tell me you’re joking, baby girl. Please.

Y/N (11:46): I’m really that forgetful…

Natasha (11:46): Oh detka.

Wanda (11:46): Y/N!

Wanda (11:46): A bird just flew into a guy

Carol (11:46): How can you forget underwear??

Wanda (11:47): Like fully into his head. He freaked and dropped his shopping😂

Y/N (11:47): Aw man I’m gutted I didn’t see that!

Wanda (11:48): It was magical.

Wanda (11:48): On another note, how do you “forget” to pack underwear, Y/N?

Y/N (11:50): Can we like, I dunno, maybe quit it with my full name?

Carol (11:50): I dunno, Y/N. Can we?

Y/N (11:50): *attachment sent*

Natasha (11:51): You look so cute when you pout, baby girl.

Y/N (11:51): -.-

Carol (11:52): Less attitude, darling. Not our fault you look adorable when you pout. We love it.

Y/N (11:52): Oh whatever.

Wanda (11:53): Our grumpy girl. Are you all packed now?

Y/N (11:53): I think so? I’ve triple checked and everything is ticked!

Carol (11:53): Look at that, baby. With 7 minutes to spare. Our brilliant girl, hmm?

Y/N (11:53): You made me blush.

Carol (11:54): Good, baby.

Wanda (11:54): Good x

Natasha (11:54): Good.

Natasha (11:54): Got your passport and money? I can send some more if you need it.

Y/N (11:55): I think I’m all set! And you don’t have to!! You already sent too much as it is xx

Natasha (11:55): If you need more just let us know okay? We want to make sure you’re okay and having fun ❤️

Y/N (11:55): Thank you 🥺

Y/N (11:55): …I’ll miss you🥺

Carol (11:55): We’ll miss you more babygil

Carol (11:55): babygirl* stupid phone ruining the moment.

Y/N (11:55): You know me and my brother used to have this saying when we had to be apart for a bit…um, we said it wasn’t a goodbye. More of a toodles for now, we’ll see each other soon

Wanda (11:56): Oh I love that!

Natasha: (11:56): That’s a very good idea, little one.

Carol (11:57): Toodles. How fancy do we sound

Y/N (11:57): We don’t have to use it, I just thought it would be better than saying goodbye for 2 weeks🥺

Wanda (11:57): Slow down darling. We love it, detka. Just like we love you. So much

Natasha (11:57): Or how we love the noises you make when you have an orgasm.

Y/N (11:58): MJ just laughed because I turned bright red. Thanks for that. Twice in what? 5 minutes? New record right there.

Natasha (11:58): Good. Consider that a leaving present; no matter where you are, we can still make you blush. And…other things😉

Y/N (11:59): Yep I’m as red as a tomato

Carol (11:59): As much as I love poking our girl, I think you need your brain to be functioning when you’re at the airport. Are you ready to go, love?

Y/N (11:59): *attachment sent* Ready! Xx

Wanda (11:59): God you’re so cute. Look at that smile!

Carol (11:59): Is that a bottle of water I spy in your rucksack pocket? Good girl, we didn’t even have to remind you!

Y/N (12:00): Thought I’d try this good girl thing out, see if it suits me😋❤️

Y/N (12:00): Our Uber is here! I’ll text you when we’re at the airport!

Natasha (12:00): You're always our good girl. Have a safe drive.

Y/N (15:07): Why are airports so big??? I’m so unfit

Carol (15:08): Do we need to work on your stamina little girl?

Y/N (15:09): …I wouldn’t say no…

Carol (15:10): Dirty girl. I meant trips to the gym

Wanda (15:10): You did not don’t lie😂

Y/N (15:10): I am not going to the gym😂😂

Natasha (15:15): How’s it going, kitten?

Y/N (15:17): We’re at the gate now! Boarding opens soon!

Natasha: (15:17): Have you got snacks for the plane?

Y/N (15:20): Yup! Got snacky snacks and a fresh bottle of water and a fizzy drink, just because!

Natasha (15:20): Look at you bossing it, baby girl!

Y/N (15:21): Thank you!!

Y/N (15:22): I think we’re boarding soon so I’ll have to say bye🥺

Wanda (15:22): Oh😞

Natasha (15:22): You can text and call us whenever you want okay? But I want you to make sure you have fun with MJ. You deserve it, detka. Relax and have fun!

Natasha (15:23): Even if we’ll miss you. So much

Y/N (15:24): I’ll miss you three 🥺🥺🥺

Carol (15:25): And we’ll miss you, little one. Are you excited?

Y/N (15:25): So excited!

Wanda (15:25): We’ll miss you so much, you don’t even know!

Y/N: (15:25): I’ll text you when we've landed? Have you definitely got the right flight number to track us?Xx

Natasha (15:26): Of course my love. And yes, it’s up on our laptops as we speak. We’ll be watching you the entire time, detka. Promise xx

Wanda (15:26): Text us whenever and wherever you want okay? We’ll be here. Always ❤️

Y/N (15:26): Okay mommy🥺 I’ll be safe with you all watching me, right?

Carol (15:26): So safe, little one. We’ll be with you every step of the way.

Y/N (15:27): We’re boarding🥺 I don’t want to go, I can’t do this!

Wanda: (15:27): Yes you can sweetheart. You’re our strong, brave girl remember. We’ll be here the entire time. If you want to ring us at 2am, wake us up. If you feel homesick and want to text, we’ll be here. FaceTime. All of it.

Carol (15:27): Plus think of all the sunbathing you can do! Get that sexy body all brown. We can’t wait to see it 😉

Y/N (15:28): That’s true…plus MJ found a really good nude beach that’s like 2 mins from our hotel

Natasha (15:28): I’m sorry, what?

Y/N (15:27): I can poke too🤭

Carol (15:28): Cheeky, cheeky girl.

Y/N (15:29): I have to go now😞

Carol (15:29): Toodles my little girl x

Wanda (15:29): Toodles baby xox

Natasha (15:29): Toodles my love. Remember it’s not a goodbye, just a toodles yes? Xx

Y/N (15:30): Yeah, a toodles 🥺 x

Y/N has notifications silenced

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #spiderbites #sugar mommies!asks #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #smu

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slightlyobsessedwitheverything · 23 days

Text

a breakdown of tommy kinard’s past appearances

so. like many of you, i’ve been getting a little bit tired of seeing the same “wait wasn’t tommy a racist/homophobe? why do we like him now?” posts for the last few weeks. so i wanted to do a small breakdown of every time he has previously appeared on screen, along with his action and inaction regarding the casual bigotry of the 118 under captain gerrard.

this is gunna be a long one boys so, strap in lol

season 3 episode 12: chim begins

i’m going to go in chronological order here rather than episodic order just for character development’s sake

tommy’s first appearance in this episode is about 11 minutes in, after the first commercial break. the current 118 are sitting down to dinner when chim arrives. tommy spots him and asks, “hey eli, you forget to tip the delivery guy?” i would say this could be a genuine question based on the fact that chim’s in his civvies, but he’s got his go bag that says “FIREFIGHTER” on his shoulder so. seems like he’s just being a smartass.

(*edit: it’s been pointed out to me that considering they had ordered chinese food, this could have been an instance of casual racism, and i am inclined to agree)

he’s not seen much during chim’s montage of just doin’ shit around the firehouse, until the point where the 118 come back covered in mud. tommy spots chim and asks him, “you still here?” again, just kind of general dickishness. not really anything to write home about.

a small kind of background tommy moment we get after chim’s montage is right as the team is returning from a call, and chim tries to tell them about the older couple who he helped earlier in the day.

tommy: what about that burger place?

gerrard: tommy, you know i hate that place

chim: hey guys, weirdest thing happened today… *he is ignored*

gerrard: hey, wasn’t your girlfriend supposed to come and cook us dinner?

tommy: uh, next tuesday.

gerrard: promise?

tommy: uh— uh, yes. yeah, i will promise…

now. i’m going to leave that up to interpretation, however i have opinions regarding that bit going forward. but! that’s ultimately not what this post is about, so perhaps another time.

the next scene is a pretty major one. chim is getting ready in the locker room, and tries to strike up a conversation with tommy when he walks in to gather some things (deodorant, toothbrush, soap it seems like, none of these details matter i just think they’re fun).

chim repeatedly tried to get tommy to open up to him about the things he likes, saying “tell me what your thing is and i’ll make it mine.” though, tommy just ignores him. we see a close up of him closing his eyes and sighing in exasperation.

chim asks, “…you just really don’t like me much, do you?” and tommy, for the first time, responds to chim’s questions with, “if i thought about you at all, honestly, i probably wouldn’t.” and he leaves.

later, after eli recruits chim to be a paramedic, they have a conversation regarding what he witnessed in the locker room between chim and tommy. eli tells him that it’s not personal, and that “in this job, friends die. funerals are held. they’re not going to just give you their friendship until you earn their respect. they’re not just protecting you, they’re protecting themselves.” and this ultimately makes sense with what we saw in tommy in that earlier scene. he didn’t really seem annoyed or upset at chim’s insistence to get to know him, just apprehensive mostly. he wasn’t cruel to him, and he hasn’t been. just… kind of a dick.

in the fire truck, on the way to the barn burner, tommy is sitting next to him and looks over at chim, as chim seems to be exhibiting signs of nervousness (this is his first real call as a firefighter after all)

(however, this is a moment where chim’s reality and his past start to bleed into each other so i am not sure how accurate this is to the moment.)

we don’t get much in the next scene aside from tommy’s presence at kevin’s funeral. when chim is ringing the bell, tommy is behind him and briefly looks toward chim, likely noticing how chim is attempting to hold himself together.

the next major scene is the call at the shopping mall, where there was some sort of structural collapse. based on the symptoms of the people that were in the mall, chim assumes there is a gas leak, which gerrard waves off. he calls for tommy over the radio, and receives no response.

chim has a realization that they’re dealing with a methane leak, and runs inside the mall to retrieve tommy.

just as the building explodes, chim runs out with tommy over his shoulder. though in this scene “tommy” is clearly a dummy prop and it is so fucking funny once you notice how floppy it is.

then we get probably the greatest scene in all of 911 where chim is in the waiting room waiting for news on tommy and reality starts to bleed into the flashback while “exit music (for a film)” by radiohead plays . it has pretty much nothing to do with this post i just wanted to say how much i LOVE this scene. anyway.

the penultimate scene of the episode starts off with chim in the locker room tucking in his shirt. tommy walks in and, with no preamble, says, “love actually, monster trucks, craft beer.”

chim realizes that this is a response to their last locker room interaction. he asks tommy how his head is feeling, tommy replies, “still fat, but clearer. you saved my life. thank you.” and shakes chimney’s hand, before pulling him into a hug. this is where their friendship begins.

in this episode, i didn’t notice anything that could really be construed as bigotry (see edit*), he was just kind of a dick at first and most of that can boil down to him being closed off and not wanting to open up before there’s a level of respect there.

(though, keep in mind i am white so there is a definite possibility that i could have missed something more racially motivated, however i didn't see anything glaring)

season 3 episode 9: hen begins

tommy’s first appearance (ever) is about 13 and a half minutes into the episode when captain gerrard introduces the team to their new “diversity hire” (after greeting her himself with a few blatantly misogynistic comments)

when tommy first sees hen, he smiles and asks “who’s this?”

when gerrard calls her a “diversity hire,” the smile leaves tommy’s face and he looks back at gerrard with somewhat of a blank expression, contrasted with sal deluca’s disbelieving smirk and comment of “for real?”

chimney then defends hen, gerrard walks away after saying they’re screwed. tommy once again looks between hen and gerrard before ultimately following him away from the railing.

it is not clear what exactly his reaction to hen joining the team actually is at that moment, whether he wanted to speak up like chim or express disdain like sal, as he remained silent.

at dinner, tommy asks sal what he and his girlfriend did the night previous, where the movie “twilight” comes up. sal makes a comment about kristen stewart being hot, and hen joins in thinking she found something in common with these guys to talk about, but sal ignores her and she walks away. (i think the writers may have genuinely forgotten kstew was only 17 in that movie but that’s neither here nor there)

tommy chimes in saying he “doesn’t get that” and that she’s “too brooding” for him, to which sal responds, “maybe you’re more of a team jacob kind of guy.”

tommy says he has no idea what that means, and chim clarifies that sal is insinuating that he’s gay.

sal laughs at this and at tommy’s reaction, and tommy jokingly blows him a kiss, smiles, and goes back to his food.

(here is a gifset of the scene)

chim then invites hen into the conversation by asking where she’s from. when he tells her he assumed she was an east coaster and that it was a compliment, tommy replies with “new york bitchiness is a compliment?” (score 1 for the misogyny bucket)

chim calls him out, and he just kind of huffs and looks at gerrard, but ultimately moves on.

tommy doesn’t really say or do much else in this scene besides sit silently while gerrard is sexist towards hen and hen stands her ground. in the end, sal looks toward tommy and nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. they both get up and leave the table.

nothing of note happens in the mudslide scene with tommy, most of the conflict is between hen and gerrard. the scene where gerrard makes her man behind as well. tommy is in the background and sees this happen, but says nothing. though, i also need to add that in these moments, chim does not say anything either.

the next scene tommy is in is when hen makes her announcement to the team about how she is not going anywhere.

i once again want to point out the difference in tommy vs sal in this scene. sal has his hands on his hips and his lips tight in a somewhat annoyed looking fashion, and he looks to the side where tommy is to gauge his reaction.

whereas tommy, has his arms folded and is looking down at the floor at first, before looking up towards hen. and while gerrard and chim have their arms crossed as well, i want to point out that tommy is holding one arm while the other sits around his waist. he looks a bit sheepish if i’m being honest, like he knows they’re about to be scolded.

when hen says for them to “see me as i see you, as a proud member of this department,” tommy turns to look behind him and makes eye contact with chim.

now, there’s not a whole lot i can glean from this interaction as is, but as we know from “chim begins,” tommy trusts chim so it’s possible he wants to get chim’s opinion. he seems to do this a lot i’ve noticed, looking between the people around him to gauge their reactions to what is going on.

nothing much of note for the car accident scene, HOWEVER. in the scene immediately after, sal and tommy address hen directly for the first time to give her some praise for her call on that scene. sal tells her “nice work yesterday,” and tommy tells her that they would have found the other car eventually, but eventually would have been too late.

hen states she “just got lucky,” to which sal responds, “screw that. you’re good,” and both he and tommy shake hen’s hand. tommy even gives her a light smack on the shoulder as he walks away and hen absolutely BEAMS.

then of course, hen is told that gerrard was removed from his position because his conduct was reported and “more than a few of your fellow firefighters have your back.” we know chim is absolutely one of them, and i can infer that based on tommy and sal’s reactions to hen’s speech and their interaction with her just before this scene, it is very likely they are as well.

in this episode, there were definitely some more moments of blatant bigotry in this episode, but other than the “new york bitchiness” line, tommy doesn’t really directly contribute to any of it. he seems to be more of a follower, constantly gauging how others feel and just playing along. complicity is still an issue of it’s own, do not get me wrong, but considering i keep seeing people say he made racist/homophobic comments, i feel like its a reasonable thing to point out.

season 3 episode 16: bobby begins again

tommy’s final on screen appearance begins with hen taking bets on how long the new captain will last. tommy asks hen to put him down for 4 weeks on credit, and they (hen, tommy, sal, and chim) banter a little. they all seem to have a pretty good relationship with each other at this point.

bobby pops out of the firetruck and places his own bet on himself, and tommy just kind of looks sheepish since they got called out.

to be real, tommy doesn’t do a whole lot in this episode either. most of the conflict is between bobby and sal. most of what we see is him in the background silently judging bobby’s lack of LA knowledge along with hen and chim. he does have some silly little moments during the chicken chase though.

(here's a great gifset of that scene)

bobby calls out to sal to talk to him after the restaurant fire, and sal keeps walking but tommy stops and waits, looking between bobby and sal.

sal says, “you’re a piece of work. you come in here with your nose in the air and your eyes looking down–” tommy interrupts sal and tells him to stop.

sal keeps digging into bobby, and tommy in the background, looks to chim and hen and shakes his head, seemingly telling them not to get in the middle of it.

sal says he has the skill to lead the 118, bobby retorts with, “but not the temperament.” sal then drops his bag and stomps toward bobby so he can get in his face. tommy moves to go after him, but chim gets between sal and bobby before anything can happen.

bobby fires sal, and tommy is just standing there with the rest of his team wondering what the hell happened.

we then have the bar scene! chim, hen, and tommy hanging out at the bar before bobby ends up joining them.

they have a good time and show off their scars to each other. tommy quotes fight club, chim laughs, bobby leaves to solve the arson.

(again, here's another gifset)

at the end we see a bit more of the team together, bobby starting to cook for them, and finally the scene of chim and hen popping out of the ambulance with balloons and a cake for tommy as he transfers to the 217. they all seem to be fairly close at this point.

(another gifset for good measure)

and other than chim calling on him for a water drop in 2x14, that’s about it until he returns in season 7.

in conclusion

to me, it seems like tommy is a bit of a follower and tends to just go along with what the people around him are doing, ESPECIALLY under gerrard. captain gerrard fostered a really toxic work environment and its no wonder others like sal were never really called out on their shit. and tommy mostly seemed to follow sal’s lead or stay quiet.

“chimney begins” takes place around 2006-ish, “hen begins” around 2008, and “bobby begins again” takes place around 2017 i believe. and between 2006 and 2024, based on what we see, its easy to see that tommy has indeed grown and changed many of his attitudes, especially when in a healthier work environment. now can we please stop acting like he’s this irredeemable piece of shit and see him for what he really is: a flawed person who grows and learns from others, like every other character on this show.

#this is not a tommy hater post this is just me going through everything he has said and done on screen so far #tommy kinard #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #9 1 1 #character analysis

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shima-draws · 1 year

Text

OKAY I’ve been playing for a couple hours now and here are some thoughts

-I LOVE that they actually give you time to hang out with the starters and bond with them and see what their personalities are like before you get to pick one. That was really neat

-They were right! This game really do Open World RPG! I haven’t even gotten to the school yet I’ve been too busy running around the map for two hours

-Not sure how I feel about items in the field literally having a neon light showing where they are from a mile away. Kinda defeats the whole purpose of open world if the items are too easy to find. The novelty of “treasure hunting” is gone because of this

-MIRAIDON REALLY DO BE LIKE TOOTHLESS FOR REAL…

-I’m going to kick Arven’s ass if he even LOOKS at Miraidon the wrong way. “Oh this Pokemon is too hard for me to deal with so I’m abandoning it and shoving all of the responsibilities I had caring for it onto you” OH YEAH?? Alright asshole I’ll take it off your hands CLEARLY it was so difficult for you to take care of a living breathing creature that also happens the be the coolest looking motherfucker on this side of the continent. Your loss

-Ohhh the clipping is so bad! It’s so bad! If I rotate the camera too far in my own house I just get a black screen! Yikes 💖

-The concept of being in battle and still being able to see Pokemon doing their own thing in the background is REALLY neat? Like life just moves on around you while you’re duking it out with another trainer. I know we had a specific saying for this when I was in school for animation but I forget what it was exactly RIP anyway just the whole organic. Breathing life into the game kinda thing.

-APPARENTLY WE CAN’T GO INTO OTHER PEOPLE’S HOUSES ANYMORE???? Like that’s one of Pokemon’s staple features throughout ALL the generations, we’re allowed to barge into random people’s homes. At the very least the first town had all their doors locked so all the houses were off limits. I was VERY upset

-The graphics may be janky as all hell but the story is really intriguing so far!! I wanted to cry bc the scene of us rescuing Miraidon really gave me HTTYD vibes. This game is just HTTYD in disguise we are all Hiccup taming and training our Toothless

-Standing on the beach before battling Nemona just gave me a HUGE rush of nostalgia bc it had very very big PMD2 vibes

-The controls for Legends Arceus are ingrained in my brain so I keep pressing buttons and getting confused when they do something different. LMAO

-I’m sorry I don’t like that the Pokemon Centers are outside now;; it just feels Wrong. Like clearly this was some cool edgy thing they wanted to try but I in fact hate it :-/

-THE PLAYER CUSTOMIZATION THING IS SOOOO SICK. The fact we get to customize SO much and at the very beginning of the game is awesome. Props to Nintendo for this I’m really glad they included so many options and right at the start so we don’t have to actually UNLOCK customizing what we look like

-Nemona is just Ash Ketchum but Girl and I love her

-And, most importantly:

#Pokemon #Pokemon SV spoilers #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet #Shima speaks #Miraidon #Pokemon Violet #Long post

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letters-unsending · 5 months

Text

No. 45

////

Hero meets Villain in a dream.

////

“How’d you get in here?”

“Through the door?” Hero gestured behind him and then paused. A corridor stretched out past his fingers, meandering into darkness.

“You’re in my mind.” Villain waved down at Hero’s feet. “Treading your dirty footprints all over my thoughts.”

“In your mind? Certainly not.” Hero looked around. The hall had widened into a room with slate-gray walls and oval windows that seemed to slip downward every time he blinked. One window was on the floor. The glass encased a squirming, oily blackness.

“You need to get out.” As Villain stomped over the floor-window, the tiles shuddered, spilling into mounds of white sand. The roof yawned open to a soft, purple twilight. “I was trying to spell you out of my head and I’ve made a mess of everything. You’re sleeping right now, aren’t you? Your soul has a habit of wandering.”

“I do remember going to bed before this.” Hero glanced down. His feet were bare and the wind slipped past his ankles and the wide hem of his pajama pants. Frantically, he reached for his face. Chilled metal met his fingers—his mask was still on.

“Your soul will hide what wants to be hidden. You don’t have to worry about that.” Villain groaned and stomped again, but the scene remained the same. The white sand dissolved into a silvery sea. Though a breezed curled across the beach, the water was still, an infinite mirror reflecting the bruise-blue horizon, and Hero considered it, wondering what would happen if he disturbed its surface. “You’ll go once you wake up anyways.”

“I’ve been here before, haven’t I?” He stepped forward. The sand was too soft and whispered against his heel like silk.

“You shouldn’t remember that.” Villain whirled around.

“I don’t,” Hero murmured, walking toward the water, “it’s just a feeling, you know.”

Villain sighed and followed him. Together, they marched, but the sea never grew closer. “You tried this the last time as well,” Villain explained, “and you never make it far.”

“So, I’ve been in your mind before.” Hero turned, following the shoreline instead. Waves crashed and gulls called faintly, though nothing moved, and the sky was bare. “Why haven’t you attacked me? I’m sure you can expel me from your mind. You feel powerful.”

“The soul will not do what it does not wish to.”

“You want me here?”

“The company is nice. I haven’t seen anybody in a while.” The sand grew sharp underfoot, furling into blades of grass, and pines sprouted up between thick, gauzes of mist. Fog hung on the air and perspired over Hero’s skin.

“You being here, it shouldn’t be possible.” Villain gestured toward the haze and the barest silhouettes of mountains beyond. “Of course, there is always the chance that you could be a figment of my mind, but I have little skill with conjuring sentient things. I can only hope that it’s you and that I’m not alone.”

“You’re trapped.”

“Astute observation.” Rain fell softly as Villain stopped, canting his head toward the sky. “It usually takes you far longer to realize that.”

“How many times have I been here?” Hero stared past Villain, at the pines, whose limbs ruffled like great, dark feathers. From their gnarled roots, the trees twisted upwards. Their crowns pierced the fog.

“You forget.” Villain held his face with his hands. The trees braided, expanded, and domed over where they stood, till everything was emerald and reeked of mulched earth and spruce. “It doesn’t matter. Everything I tell you, you always forget, but you always come back. You never remember me and I’m tired of meeting you, for the first time, every time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You wouldn’t be, if you remembered me.” The green turned black, into roiling nothingness. “We knew each other in the waking world, but it seems you’ve forgotten me there as well.”

Hero strode through the abyss and wrenched Villain’s hands from his face. He had a nose, cheeks, lips, jaw; he had everything that should compose a face and yet Hero couldn’t arrange it, couldn’t piece it together. His eyes were the only thing that didn’t swim and when Hero looked into them, he tumbled forward, onto the cold tile of the grey room.

He staggered to his feet. The windows were gone, but a door replaced them. It was simple, white, and had a shining brass handle, but Hero never reached for it.

Turning back, he called out a name.

“[Villain]?”

#writeblr #villain #writing prompt #hero #prompt #villain prompt #writing #hero prompt #hero x villain #drabble #im sorry if this is too trippy #and hard to keep track of

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respectthepetty · 14 days

Note

Unknown the series……I’ve not seen anyone else talk about this but I’m sure you will have noticed.

Yuans cactus. Qian looked after this while he was away we know and it was small and dying before he started to take care of it.

In the scene with Yuan and Lilly now Yuan is back - there is now 2 cactus in the pot….the single “dying” cactus has now grown into two healthy cactus and Yuan keeps playing with it during his conversation with Lilly.

this is significant right?? Or am I now to far into your feed that I now focus on cactuses for symbolism during key plot lines?! 😬

If you came in my inbox thinking I was going to somehow deter you from this thought process, obviously you haven't gone deep enough in my feed because I'm obsessed with Qian taking care of all the plants! Like this little green gal in the white pot? I call her Sheila.

When Yuan was gone, Sheila was sad.

But look at her grow!

LOOK AT HER!

Sis was living her best life under Qian's gentle thumb.

So while everyone was busy paying attention to Care Bear Cactus, Sheila has just be thriving in the background.

And it makes sense that Care Bear Cactus is important enough to get all the attention since he is doing exactly what you wrote - telling a story.

The story of one little abandoned and unloved item

That Qian decided to take care of

And watch over

And gave a place where it could thrive

So that little cactus could one day use all that love it was given

And create its own love to extend to others

So, yeah, I think what you wrote about the little green guys is significant since green represents growth and new beginnings and this is a story of growth and new beginnings.

But never forget my girl Sheila has had her dark days too!

Growth!

#unknown #unknown the series #it's about growth #it's about giving love to the unloved #and seeing the buried beauty #it's about giving back the love we receive #even when things may not deserve it #or look like they want it #give love #and it will return to you

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june-again · 1 year

Text

TIGHNARI: # second life.

word count. 1.3k. genre. coworkers to lovers? whump confession.

overview. after your confession to tighnari goes exceptionally poorly, you move away from gandharva ville, change your job, and try to forget. however, he comes looking for you in sumeru city.

author's note. oops i wrote another tighnari fic. kinda like him or whatever. he's cool. anyways i have a thing for confessions in the rain so we went with it, enjoy feeling slightly sad and then slightly satisfied in this brainrot-drunk fic. reblogs are appreciated as always!

Your entire disposition shifted helplessly the moment you realized Tighnari was in front of your stall, arms crossed and eyes dark. As your breath hitched, you attempted to neutralize your face—but it was impossible, it was hopeless, to prevent the shake in your voice.

“Good afternoon. What can I get for you?”

He met your eyes with a calculated smile. “Hello, Y/N. May I speak with you on your next break?”

You pursed your lips fleetingly. “No, I will be busy.”

He exuded frustration but you both seemed to try to ignore it. “I have to explain…”

So he was also haunted by the scene that had prompted your permanent absence from Gandharva Ville. He was also haunted by how it happened, although you were quite sure if given another chance he would have said the exact same thing to you and the outcome would have been the same.

“Can I get anything else for you?”

“Well…” He sighed, studying the shop’s goods. “Tell me, how fresh are these Niloptala Lotuses?”

“Picked this morning.”

“I’ll have a dozen.”

You kept your eyes on the lotuses as you packaged them for him, carefully folding the leaves on each to protect the small flower within. In a small, watertight box, you organized them in three lines of four, carefully covered it with a straw lid, and pushed it towards him. “That will be forty thousand mora.”

He paid you, and you felt the shape of something in your hand that was not a coin. Before you could understand what it was, and try to give it back to him, he had carried off his vessel and disappeared. But now you wished he would come back, because you had realized it was a note. It read “Collei, of all people, urged me to come to the Bazaar and find you so that I would ‘stop being so miserable.’”

You folded the note and pocketed it, scanning the crowds for any sign of him.

It didn’t make sense. Did he want you to come back to the village, and forget about what had happened? Was he hoping you had gotten over your feelings for him by now, and that you were willing to be a Ranger again?

It wasn’t going to work. Your feelings, if anything, had grown stronger, overpoweringly so. That had been the reason you’d left, hoping in vain that a job unconnected to the Forest Rangers would permit you some distraction. You could think of it so clearly, the hot tears that had been on your face as you had finally said it. “I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you, Tighnari,” you’d said. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You remembered how his hand holding the beaker of pollen concentrate had frozen, how he’d said nothing for a terrible minute.

He looked up at you, his eyes… fearful? You still couldn’t decide what you had seen in his expression, although you had certainty it hadn’t been positive.

“You can’t,” he had said. “You don’t know me.”

“I—I know you well enough.”

His voice had been cold, and his expression had turned adamant. “You don’t.”

You had thought about this nearly every day since. It had been weeks, and it still gripped and squeezed your heart every time.

Your break came, and you took it promptly. You would find him, if only to tell him you were sorry you had been in his life. You spotted, with some awkwardly elaborate ducking, Collei and a few other Forest Rangers. If they saw you, they’d try to connect with you again, and you couldn’t bear it. News of the angstful aforementioned events, you were sure, had spread between Rangers. Oh, it was humiliating.

You continued out of the Bazaar. It was raining in Sumeru City today, and you were grateful for the Bazaar’s cover. You now regretted not bringing with you any kind of hat or umbrella, as your uniform was going to be drenched.

You did not know where Tighnari might be since he did not appear to be in the Bazaar. You had headed to the South entrance, struck with the idea that perhaps his acquaintance Rohawi would know—maybe he had stopped to greet him, and shared at least the purpose of the visit to Sumeru City visit.

But you didn’t get far. The rain picked up, and you immediately found shelter as it was necessary. Said shelter happened to be the overhang on the side door of the Jewler’s shop. You rested against one of the pillars, and wiped some rain off of the top of your head.

Then, you stared.

Tighnari stared back at you from beside the opposite pillar, hair also dripping to the wooden floor.

“Tighnari—”

“Y/N—”

You both went quiet, and then he sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, it was… You may be right that I can’t love you with how little I know about you, but I… I can’t help it Tighnari, and I’m afraid that ruined everything.”

“But it’s my fault you misunderstood,” he said. “You are the first to confess to me in such a way, and it caught me off guard. However, that does not excuse how I reacted.”

“You were being honest.”

“I was being brackish. I did not take the time to acknowledge your emotions, nor my own, as I responded in the logical and cruel way that is most natural for me.”

As a contrast to the bustling, noisy marketplace atmosphere that you had been speaking over earlier, the thunder and rain were isolating. You seemed to be the only voices in the tunnel of weather. “But you were still right. I didn’t know you well enough to understand… and how can I defend my feelings for you then?”

Tighnari reached for your hand, hesitating only an inch before he grabbed it. Then, he lifted it and covered it with his other hand. “The truth is,” he said, “I feel a certain kind of way for you that I’ve not felt for anyone in a long time. It is… frightening. But—” He looked you in the eyes earnestly, “--You have to understand that I don’t know you as well as I would like to. I would like to know so much about you so that I may love all of you. I would like to study you, your likes and dislikes, your fears, your passions. I want to know what makes you tick, Y/N. I want to be with you so that I can observe you, and so that you might, in return, get to know me, too.”

You wanted to ask him if he meant it, but you knew the answer. His eyes said the rest.

“May I hug you, Tighnari?” you said, unable to think of anything else.

His voice broke as he said, “Of course you may, my dear friend.”

You finally stepped forward and embraced Tighnari, finding the dampness of your clothing only comforting, somehow. He smelled like the trees, and rain, and home. He held you sturdily and decidedly, one hand on the center of your back and one on the back of your head. He was unwilling to let you go until his heat had warmed you some.

When you finally released, he took your face in his hands and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“May I get to know you, Y/N?”

author's note. when i wrote the bit with the note i couldn't help but think about a "new item acquired: tighnari's note" notification on the side of the screen LAFKHLADS

#WE'RE AT IT AGAIN #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #tighnari imagine #tighnari fluff #tighnari angst #genshin angst #genshin x gn!reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenario #genshin impact fic #tighnari #(scheduled post)

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succcession · 1 year

Note

I have a request for Kendall!!!! I imagine him and the reader being on the verge of divorce and him being a possessive almost ex husband and making a scene every time a man breaths near the reader and them fighting and screaming at each other and then having the best make up angry sex of their lives.

Your mind is phenomenal, I hope you like it!

Marriage Make Up

Kendall Roy x f!reader smut 4.1k word count

You tried with Kendall. You really tried. It started with the coke. Which you could look past for awhile. Occasionally, suggesting various detoxes and rehab facilities, always trying to let him know you were there for him. Free from judgment. You knew who Kendall was when you married him, the addictions he struggled with. The trauma. However, the day you stood in front of him, your handmade white dress flowing, a traditional veil being lifted from your eyes to kiss him. You promised yourself you were going to be there for him. No matter what happened.

That was until the coke turned into ignoring all phone calls, never coming home, forgetting birthdays, and daily drunk 3am texts that clearly weren’t intended for you. You threatened Kendall that if this is how the marriage was going to be, you couldn’t be a part of it. But honestly they were empty threats. When you had made that initial promise, you meant it.

That was until the escorts.

You were awoken one morning by the ringtone of your phone, slowly blinking your eyes open as the sound grew louder. You threw your arm over searching to find the warmth of your husband's body sleeping next to you. Instead, being greeted by the now too common fabric of the cold sheets. You began rummaging through the pile of king size blankets searching your buzzing phone, eventually answering right before a call from Roman Roy went to voicemail.

“Hey! Seen your husband lately?” Roman questioned. Never beginning conversations with any kind of small talk.

“Oh yeah…Kendall, my husband” you scoffed. “At this point I have no idea if he is even still alive.”

“Oh he’s alive alright. All over the news actually… Billionaire Logan Roy's son, Kendall Roy seen leaving NYC restaurant with instagram model Claire Hane.”

Roman read aloud the headline cackling after almost every word.

“That girl is like, known to be an escort! What? Did you stop putting out?” He continued joking.

As soon as Roman had begun reading the headline your heart was pounding. Kendall in the news was rarely a good thing, and with every word out of Roman’s mouth you could feel heat rushing to your face as tears filled your eyes.

Choking on the lump in your throat you struggled to come up with a respond to Romans teasing. You wanted to act unbothered, like you were as heartless as any Roy sibling, unphased. But the tears already streaming down your face clearly proved otherwise.

“I…Fuck” you huffed finally managing to get something out of your quivering mouth. Everyone had warned you with patronizing eyes and scolding fingers when you married Kendall that he was inconsistent, unthoughtful, and “occasionally psychotic” his ex-wife even mentioned. However, you always waved their comments off with a smile. “Yeah, I know he has a lot going on, but I’m in love. And he can be really empathetic! I’ve never had someone take care of me the way that Kendall does. And not just with his wallet!” You explained over and over. Now all of your illusions were quickly shattering. Of anything he could do, cheating was not one you expected. Your sex life was great! At least, you thought. Maybe a little lacking lately, but that was hardly your fault seeing as though he was rarely home. Did he honestly need to pay for sex? Your confidence in him and your confidence in yourself were crashing down right in front of you.

“Look y/n, I’m sure it's not you. My brother is an asshole. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s been a shitty husband.”

Nearly forgetting Roman was on the other line you groaned at what you knew was his attempt to cheer you up. “Thanks Rome, I’m gonna go drink over my failed marriage. Bye.” you mumbled quickly hanging up before Roman got another chance to throw in a heartless joke.

Time appeared to be moving painfully slow after the disheartening events of this morning. After laying in bed clutching your chest and sobbing for what felt like weeks, you eventually pulled yourself into the bathroom. Confronted by your gloomy reflection of swollen eyes, still in shock this was all really happening. That Kendall would really be hiring escorts, and that you would find out from his brother! You decided the only way to distract your distressing mind would be a hot shower. Taking your time to delicately wash your hair and lather every inch of your body with the expensive body soap. Even though Kendall was richer than you could comprehend, you still had a habit of trying to preserve those things, never using too much. However, now all those little things were out the window. Who cares anymore if I’m just using him, you thought to yourself. Obviously he doesn’t.

You dried yourself off slowly taking the time to apply a sweet smelling lotion and your face moisturizer. Taking one last glance at your figure in the mirror and letting out a deep sigh. “Fuck him, I’m still sexy” you exclaim aloud at your reflection.

“Fuck yeah, you are!” You hear Kendall reply slyly behind you, looking back to see his suited figure leaning against the door frame. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You have no problem brushing off his remarks rushing to grab your white silk robe, covering your exposed body from him. Kendall was quick to pick up on your agitated reaction as you brushed past him.

“Okay. Yeah great what the fuck did I do now? Cause I know I didn’t leave any fucking drugs around the house.” he huffed, naturally jumping to defend his actions.

“Yeah, probably because you’re never here.” You mumbled quietly. You weren’t ready to fight about it. Not yet at least. You still felt too heartbroken to even scream at him, simply just wanting him to disappear until you were ready to confront the reality.

“I know I’ve been gone a lot y/n, but with my dad gone things at the office are just really starting to pick up and everything with Mattson, I mean…” his voice trailed off as you wandered around the room putting together a comfortable outfit. His rambling excuses eventually stopped when he looked at you and questioned,

“Uh babe the fuck are you wearing?”.

“God Ken, why do you even care? You’re leaving again tonight right?” you sneered. He’s never home, and then when he is home all he has is work excuses and a problem with your outfit, seriously?

“Um, we're leaving tonight. Waystar Charity Gala. One of my biggest opportunities to make a good impression as CEO. What, did you fucking forget?” He exclaimed.

“Fuck” you whined holding a finger to rub your temple.

You had totally forgotten tonight was the charity event, explaining why Kendall was home and finally paying any attention to you. Part of being married to Kendall Roy was putting on a play. Attending various events and red carpets draped over your husband's side performing as his beautiful, dotting wife. Although, honestly you never had to fake it. You genuinely did adore Kendall and it made you happy to make him look good, and brag about his accomplishments to his peers. And you were good at it! Always leaving every man in the room jealous of how happy you made Kendall, and every woman dying to take your place. But tonight you weren’t sure if you could handle that job. You couldn’t even make eye contact with him right now, let alone appear like you’re obsessed with him.

Kendall walked over to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. You resisted every urge to begin crying again, screaming at him about this morning's headlines. Although it was eating you alive, you knew that sobbing to him wouldn’t work on Kendall. The Roy’s were a different breed, and if you wanted to get to him, you really had to make him feel something. You looked up at his figure towering above you. Giving him soft eyes but maintaining the displeased frown on your face.

“Are you seriously this upset over me being busy? God I know, I’m sorry for being the world shittiest fucking husband!” he scoffed “ But I’m trying to take over a fucking company here y/n. Now, you knew what you signed up for when you married me, so we’re going to this fucking gala. And you’re going to be my loving wife, okay? You’re going to look beautiful, and you’re going to make me look good. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for me?” his patronizing tone sinking deep into your chest. You knew he was half serious, half just attempting to intimidate you, and the good girl he had to throw in hoping it would finally get to you. And it did. Sending heat straight to your center. You gave a slow nod in response, not breaking eye contact. Although, this response was not enough for kendall as he roughly brought a hand under your chin “Say yes Kendall, thank you Kendall”. You repeated his words gently and even turned your head to leave a gentle kiss on his palm. His entire demeanor softened, you could easily play into his game now but you were already planning ways to get back at him throughout the night.

Your dress for the night was a striking dark blue, a slight shimmer radiating from the bottom, drawing all eyes down the velvet fabric that formed around your body nicely. The plunging neckline, a lower cut then you would usually wear. You nearly forget about Kendall as every head in the crowd turned in awe at yours and Kendall's arrival. Your beauty quickly becoming the topic of the event.

As you made your way through the party, Kendall snaked his arm around your waist breathing deeply into your neck, recognizing his favorite perfume of yours. Smirking as he whispered “You’re so good to me.” His words sent a chill down your spine. How could he so easily say things like that while he had another life going on? Your brain jumped between wanting to slap him, and completely surrendering to his touch. You wanted nothing more than to leave a soft kiss on his lips, lean your head into his shoulder and mean it. But you refused to give in so easily, letting his hands wander your body without returning any of the attention.

It seemed as though you had a spotlight on you, the way your dress glistened softly, your light smile drawing in awestruck gazes from every direction. Kendall analyzed every man who let their eyes linger on you as you passed by, his grip around your waist growing tighter with the minute. Although, he wasn’t saying anything you knew the increased attention surrounding you was driving him insane. Of course, Kendall's ideal night consisted of having the most desired woman in the room but tonight felt excessive. With men who had never spoken to him in his life stopping to shake his hand, clearly only for a chance to gain proximity to you.

You grabbed a champagne glass from a waiter before turning on your heel away from Kendall commenting “I’m going to go mingle.”

“What are you-” his question, cut off by quick disappearance into the crowd.

It was easy to charm the kind of men you find at these events. Whether they were married or single, younger or older all you had to do was act interested in their lives. Listen to them talk about how much money they make, throw in an innocent giggle and they’re easily under your control. Which made it easy to flirt with random billionaires throughout the room, but made for little true entertainment. Reminding you what you had first admired about Kendall. Although others rarely saw it, Kendall had depth. You two often would stay up till early hours in the morning pouring out endless streams of emotions to each other. He enjoyed deep conversations and sharing his daydreams. Kendall was made of much more than just Waystar inheritance money. Every other man in the room felt so…simple, so facile compared to Ken.

It wasn’t long until Kendall found you in the crowd again, eyes locked on some investor as he did his best to swoon you. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, lightly letting your hand graze the man's bicep.

Kendall formed a tight fist as he felt a trigger go off in his head. Kendall spent his whole life competing. He definitely wasn’t going to let your attention be stolen by anybody else. In his mind when he put a ring on it, he won you. Besides you hardly paid attention to the people at these things, why tonight did you decide to put on such a performance while brushing off all of his advances? The jealousy of your lack of attention was piling on him like a ton of bricks. He knew he had been extremely negligent in the marriage department lately, and as much as he probably deserved to be cheated on after everything he’s done in his life, he didn’t think you would be so quick to throw yourself at other men.

He made his way over to you and the man stood in front of you, quickly sliding in closely next to you. “Thanks for keeping her company, man. Keep up the good work.” Kendall joked aggressively.

“Ah anytime, we’ve all seen what a busy guy you are, hate to see you leave this beautiful thing all alone.” The man scoffed back lightly, referencing today's news. You were always impressed by rich men's ability to be mean to each other without actually fighting, it was as if cryptic trash talk was their second language.

“Oh, I guarantee I can keep my wife very entertained” Kendall asserted.

You observed the two men wind each other up, pleased that your simple yet effective plan of making Kendall jealous was working. Eventually, the other man let up, leaving you two standing alone. Kendall’s chest was heaving in front of you, his large eyes scanning the room, and you could sense that he was trying to calm himself down. Resisting from making a scene. He knew he needed to stay longer, that he should spend the entire night networking with strangers, gaining the trust of possible donors, anything to earn respect as CEO. But as his anxieties regarding your displeased attitude began growing more unignorable, he wanted nothing more than to drag you out of the venue. Away from everybody's eyes, and against only his. Protected.

Kendall wasn’t saying a word to you, and you took your opportunity to wander off again to search for anyone semi handsome you could pretend to care about. However, your first step away from him was interrupted by a rough grip on your hand. You turned hesitantly, knowing you will be met with his distressed eyes, “I’m done with this fucking game. We’re leaving.”

The fighting began the second you walked into the apartment building. Not even making it past the lobby before Kendall was yelling out “So are we gonna fucking talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about Kendall? How you clearly have no desire to even be married to me? Why don't we start there!” You explained only to be met with a stunned

“What?”.

“You’re never fucking here Kendall! And if you are here you’re high, mad at me for being upset that my husband only ever sees me when he's coked out of his mind!”. You had never yelled at him like this, shocked at the amount of anger you could feel swelling in your chest.

“Oh and now you don’t even want to have sex right? You can just hire someone for that too! I hope eventually you can spend enough money on pussy and drugs to actually be happy Kendall!”. It was harsh, yes. You wanted to hurt him. Hoping maybe your words could compare to how it felt reading the headline.

“Fuck you. Okay, what the fuck are you talking about y/n?”

“The news, Kendall! I’m not fucking stupid! Everyone has seen your recent little public affair. Obviously, I don’t make you happy so please lets just do whatever the fuck we have to do to end this! I don't want anything from you, I don't care, I just don't fucking care anymore” you aggressively stammered on, raising your hands in defeat.

Kendall was sitting on the bed watching you pace the room. He didn’t realize that his dinner last night had made so many news articles, but they weren’t lying. He did meet up with an escort, thinking that fucking someone he didn’t care about might actually help him blow off some steam. But by halfway through dinner he had already made up his mind that he couldn’t follow through with it. Sure, she was beautiful and listened to him rant about work and his ex-wife. Nonetheless, his interest faltered with every coy giggle she let out. She wasn’t sarcastic like you, she didn’t push back or tease him. It was as if you were the only one bold enough to treat him like a real person, not just a possible paycheck. He left the restaurant with her but only to have her dropped back off at her apartment, giving a soft apology while still paying her the originally intended amount. He thought he could be like his dad, not give a fuck about anyone, use anything for his own pleasure. But he was positive his dick wouldn’t have been able to get hard all night, and trying only would have made it miserable for her and him.

“I didn’t fuck her.” Kendall finally huffed in response pushing himself to stand in front of you “I couldn’t fuck her! I’ll be honest with you y/n, I wanted to. But we never even made it past the fucking restaurant! I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You never leave me side y/n and I know I fucking put you through hell and back! I’m really fucked up, but I didn’t fuck anyone else!”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him. Regardless you would still be upset that he considered it. But there was something oddly sweet about a man who could buy any woman not being able to go through with it because of you. Kendall had slowly been stepping towards, and your hands laid gently at your side, unsure of what to do with all the information in your head, only to be met with a rough kiss from Kendall. You pushed him away exclaiming “Kendall, what the fuck? I’m so fucking pissed!” yet you were met again by his tight grasp around your waist and his lips returning deeply to yours. This time unable to resist the urge to give in and kiss him back.

“I know. You should be pissed. But I love you, I love you y/n.” he muttered in response against your lips. The sound of your shared panting filling the room as the passionate kiss continued. Kendall walked you backwards until you collided with the wall behind you.

“So fucking mad at you Ken!” you growled into his mouth as you both clawed each other's clothes, his arms raking down your backside squeezing your ass roughly and brushing the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. Letting the fabric pool around your waist his mouth was quick to begin leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping to nibble gently on the skin between your neck and shoulder. You threw your head back as his mouth made contact with your nipple, he sucked harshly, pulling the skin lightly with his lips, and then soothing the sensitive bud by tracing circles with his tongue. His other hand working to undo the zipper holding up the remainder of your dress. You attempted to steady your shaking hands and loosen his belt and dress shirt but the feeling spreading from your nipples to your pussy was already causing you to struggle. When your dress pooled around your ankles, Kendall wasted no time in lifting you into his arms, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he sucked on your bottom lip. You could feel his bulge pressing firmly into your center as he trapped you tightly between him and the wall. His hips grinding, desperate to buck into you, causing a yelp to leave your mouth every time.

He moved his hands swiftly, lowering his dress pants enough to pull his cock out, rubbing the large bead of precum that was forming on his head between your folds.

“Fuck Ken!” You exclaimed as you felt his head pressing firmly against your slit. Kendall usually enjoyed taking his time, slowly working his cock into you, trying to make you as wet as possible before bottoming out. However, now you could feel him pushing in with no hesitation. Grunting as your lips squeezed tightly around him, giving you no time to adjust, only pulse as he pushed deeper. His cock had never felt so swollen inside you before. You weren’t sure if it was the time apart or the passionate argument but your pussy was yearning for every inch of him inside you, and to completely submit to his hold. But your brain still had the lingering thoughts of his actions.

“Why Ken? Fuck- why do you have to be like that? Why can’t we just talk?” You managed to moan out

“I don’t know why I’m so fucked up y/n” he grunted into your ear pushing the final inch of his length all the way inside of you. Both of you let out a sigh in unison as your bodies aligned perfectly together. Your legs spread wide for him as he held your ass in his palms, grinding deeply into you. With each thrust his pelvis softly nudging your clit driving your pleasure further.

Backing away from the wall, while maintaining his tight hold around you, Kendall walked your conjoined bodies over to the bed. Laying you down harshly against the edge of the mattress, pulling your hips quickly to meet his, pushing his dick deep back inside you. He collapsed into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your chest. He fucked into you at a brutal pace, you were unable to controls the cries that left you lips each time his thick head brushed against the sensitive spot along your walls.

“Ken please- I need you” you whined scratching your nails down his back searching for anything to hold onto while the knot in your stomach tightened.

“I want to be better, baby. I can be better for you. I promise” He groaned deeply into your neck, his words so easily seducing you back into completely trusting him again.

“I want you home Ken, I want- ughh you” you managed to moan out breathlessly. As your orgasm drew closer, so did your thoughts about missing Kendall. You just wanted to tell him how much you loved him, how much you needed him but all that left your lips was a loud cry as you felt your pussy finally release on his cock.

“You’re making me cum! Fuck Ken oh my god, wait wait I-…” you yelped.

Your hand reached between your legs pressing your palm to his stomach as your overstimulated pussy throbbed harshly around him. He maintained his brutal pace, holding your hips in place as you squirmed against him.

“Just a little more baby, you can take me. That’s my girl” he cooed, his hands straightening your legs over his shoulder. His hips snapping against your ass, eyes never leaving yours. Watching in adoration as your eyes shut closed, but your mouth remaining open, drool falling down your chin as the pleasure slowly became too much.

With a few more powerful thrusts Kendall was releasing deep inside you. Allowing himself to collapse completely into your warm body. Shallowly grinding his hips to ride out his passionate high. Waiting until he felt your walls stop throbbing around him. Allowing both of your breathing to relax before he eventually pulled out with a long sigh. Kendall looked down at you fucked out face. His thumb brushed your cheek gently, then ran it along your bottom lip. He thought you always looked so beautiful with your cheeks flushed pink, hair wildly flying around your face. Arms reaching up searching for his protection. He wasn’t ready to give up on another marriage, not when the make up sex was like this, he laughed to himself. He gathered you in his arms scooting your bodies up the bed, until he was comfortably holding you.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

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