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#I’m trying to sell stuff but it’s not working out so well
antimony-ore · 2 months
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OK one last gripe to get it out of my system, I hurt my foot somehow the day before my mom left and it’s been bothering me A LOT and the farm work isn’t helping
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 days
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i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters
for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace
rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.
It’s rarely accidental.
It’s always painful.
He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.
So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.
Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?
“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.
Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?
“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”
Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?
“Which friend?”
“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”
The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.
Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.
And then his hand was gone.
Eddie breathed in, breathed out.
“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”
Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.
“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”
Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.
“You good?” He eventually asked.
“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”
“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”
Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.
“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”
Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.
“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.
Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.
“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”
Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.
But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.
“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.
“Uh…smoke what?”
“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”
“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.
“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”
“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.
As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-
“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”
Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?
“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”
Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.
“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.
“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”
Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.
“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”
Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?
“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.
“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”
“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”
Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?
“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.
“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.
He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.
“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”
Eddie whimpered.
He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.
But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.
What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?
He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’
Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.
He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-
“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.
“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.
“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”
“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”
Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.
Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.
“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”
“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”
“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”
“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”
Steve cursed under his breath.
He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.
Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?
Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.
Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.
“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”
Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?
“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.
“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”
“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”
It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.
“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”
How fucking embarrassing.
Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.
“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”
Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.
Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.
There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.
He shook his head at the thought.
“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”
“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”
“You don’t walk off subspace.”
Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.
“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.
“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”
Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.
“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?
“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”
Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.
“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.
“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”
“Not like that.”
“We should probably talk about it.”
The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.
“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”
Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.
He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.
Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.
They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.
“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.
“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.
“You said we could talk about the weather.”
Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”
It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.
“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”
Eddie started to nod, but stopped.
This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.
He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.
The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.
But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.
Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.
Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.
It was, dare he say, romantic.
Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.
Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.
When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.
Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.
“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”
They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.
They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.
“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.
“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.
“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.
“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”
Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.
“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”
Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.
“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”
“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?
“Good. Need you to be alone.”
“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”
“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”
Well, fuck.
Day two: ao3 | tumblr
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vettelsdarling · 4 months
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𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐞
Lissie note… Here’s the second winner of the poll. I stupidly duplicated him💀 but just tallied those numbers together. Also yes, I’m trying out new layouts rn so please lmk if this looks great or not<3
Summary: A photographer from the heart of NYC has been in a low-key relationship with Lando Norris for a while now…
————
Things to note:
Reader is a menace tbh
Lando and reader are separated by 2 yrs
Reader is a known photographer (just not famous yk)
————
Pairing: Lando Norris x Photographer!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None
Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐍𝟒, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗
Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @ophcelia, @darleneslane, @allwaysalleyway, @littlesatanicassholebitch
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Twitter
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yourusername
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yourusername What a great day to change my pfp on my Twitter😮‍💨
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yourbestfriend Isn’t that the camera I got you last Christmas?
yourusername Merry Christmas ig
yourbestfriend The enthusiasm🥰
yourusername WOW!?!???!!!! IT REALLY IS THE CAMERA YOU GAVE ME LAST YEAR AHHH I STILL HAVE IT CAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourbestfriend Nah now it doesn’t feel genuine😒
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landonorris
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Tagged: yourusername, mclaren
landonorris What’s up 2023?🧡
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user1 The photos are better this year wtf😮‍💨
user2 He looks amazing regardless
user3 YESSS IT’S BACKKK LET’S GOO🧡🧡🧡
yourusername Ty for the tag, great working w/ you
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user4 Ty for blessing Lando’s face
user5 She’s a magician with a camera😩
user6 Danny isn’t racing this yr right?😞
user7 Yeah he isn’t😭😭😭
user8 Ugh MCLAREN WHYYY
user9 I’m manifesting🫡
user10 Actually so delulu I made a mood board consisting ONLY of Lando😃
user11 At least you’re self aware💀
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yourusername Tbh I feel kinda bad for knowing next to NOTHING abt f1 but I’ll just do my job and whatever to pay rent in New York🤡 Last resort is the pole (not position😞)
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yourbestfriend 💀
yourusername Are you implying I wouldn’t be a great pole dancer?🤨
yourbestfriend Honestly? Yeah🥰
yourusername Bitch.
landonorris I didn’t even realize you’d take this many pics
yourusername Welcome to your new life (I sound and look like a fucking stalker rn wtaf)
yourfriend WTF YOU NEVER SAID YOU PHOTOGRAPHED LANDO NORRIS????
yourusername Surprise!!😻
landonorris
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landonorris Checking out the credentials🤨
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yourusername At least I’m better than you🥰
landonorris You make a fair point… it’s your job😒
user1 Bffr rn😭
user2 Wdym? it’s his designated photographer. I think she’s a part of the team cause McLaren hired her
user1 Wait really?
user2 …yeah💀
user3 The way I love this new photographer😩
user4 Yeah she’s good. She’s well known in the photography world as one of the best in nyc
user3 Wtf that’s such an honor
user5 IS THAT HER??? 10 bucks they’re dating but not telling us
user6 Nah that’s too quick💀 They JUST hired her like this year.
user7 I’m excited for her shots in Miami
user8 I’ve seen some of her stuff at her gallery. Some of it sells for more than a month’s salary
user9 Her instagram is private😔💔
user10 It’s always been😭😭😭
f1gossip
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5,367 likes
f1gossip New beau, Lando?👀
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user1 HUH WHAT😃
user2 They are just friends they are just friends they are just friends
user3 stfu what is this😭
user4 That looks a lot like yourusername
user5 💀
yourusername
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yourusername Luckily this account is private💪 Hope they don’t find my very not private Twitter💀
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yourbestfriend Good luck😭
yourusername ty, I will not need it😩
landonorris what is this Twitter you speak of🤨🤨🤨
yourusername Nothing👽
f1gossip
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2,378 likes
f1gossip Looks like Lando’s girl has Twitter👀
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user1 Wtaf I love her
user2 Ever wondered she might not want it leaked💀
yourusername Oh… wow…😐
user3 OFMHSK IT’S YOU
yourusername In all my glory😮‍💨🔥
user4 I love how she’s literally just like everyone else and not some snob😭
lando.jpg
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landonorris Who would’ve thought it was possible to post your own paparazzi photos?!
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yourusername Holy shit, this is revolutionary🤯
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yourusername Why don’t the media just hire me to take better pics of us🤡🤡
landonorris Ikr
user1 Nah I’m loving this
user2 They are really handing the media’s ass on a silver plate💀💀💀
user3 This is pure gold😭
user4 I thought Kika and Pierre were my fav but Lando and her just raised the bar
user5 Honestly lmao
user6 why aren’t more wags like this
user7 Publicity probs
user8 Publicity doesn't make sense because she’d fear it too..?
user7 Nah I actually don’t think she cares very much💀
user9 You guys keep doing you, this is amazing.
yourusername Hell yeah😩
Twitter
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yourusername
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yourusername We’ve been around👯‍♀️
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yourbestfriend FUCK YEAH WE HAVE
yourusername Ugh we should travel together sometime
yourbestfriend We should
landonorris Where was my invite?
yourusername Nonexistent.
landonorris Wow. I feel so insulted.
yourusername
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yourusername Welcome to my Instagram, peasants. Above, you can see a little bit of everything I serve on here (and yes, I do SERVE).
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yourbestfriend Hot
yourusername I know
landonorris ❤️
yourusername tmrw is our 1 yr anniversary.
landonorris Did you think I forgot?
yourusername Yes
landonorris You’re not wrong…
user1 1 YEAR WHAT????
user2 They hid it for so long😭
user3 I’ve been waiting ages to finally gain access to her Instagram
yourusername thank you, loyal plebe.
user4 2nd pic is me during exam season❤️
user5 Literally same
user6 She’s living my dream fr
yourusername I must be very powerful, then
user7 Skin care routine???
yourusername Random shit from drugstores
user8 She’s so down to earth but classy in a funny way. How tf do I even explain her😭
yourusername I’m an enigma
user9 Lando is lucky wtf
yourusername Right?
user10 No but you and Lando compliment each other so well
yourusername Ty<3
landonorris
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landonorris For a whole year, you’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. A fun and breezy outlook on life. You’re just amazing. I love you and I didn’t forget about today❤️
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yourusername I’ll let it go for today. Only because I love you too❤️
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maxverstappen1 Congrats you guys👏
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yourbestfriend Feels like yesterday I told you how to get her attention😔
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carlossainz55 Congratulations guys, enjoy yourselves today🍾
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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)
*Please note that liking the taglist will not put you on it!
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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The Fic I'm Still Not Writing (2)
Part 1 that I totally didn't write.
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“Boss.”
Jason looked up from the report he was going over to see two of his people standing in the the doorway to his office. They shifted nervously and he prepared himself for bad news. While he didn’t exactly aim for a friendly demeanor (that’s what being around as Jason was for), he did attempt to make it clear his people could talk to him. If shit was going to go down then he wanted to know so that he could get on top of it.
Like now.
Fuck.
Things had been looking so good, too. The new shelter would be up and running next week. The supplemented housing for single parents and their kids was doing well— Jason had been by as, well, Jason early that day to make sure everything was on the up and up— and there had been no new shit heads trying to sell drugs on his street corners. He should have expected for it to go wrong.
He tucked the reports away and leaned back in his chair before motioning the two in. Ralph and Marco, Jason thought, placing the two as they came to sit across from him. Ralph mostly helped manage the gym and train new people not to get killed— an ex boxer and coach from when times were better. Marco had just recently risen to lieutenant.
Jason had no clue what trouble the two of them would be bringing him together. Maybe someone did something stupid and needed more training.
It seemed they didn’t know where to start either and kept trading each other uneasy looks. Jason shifted, just slightly, in the way he knew made his chair creek ominously and watched both his men start.
“So, um, us goons have been doing some reading,” Ralph finally started. Jason wasn’t much fond of the term ‘goons’ himself, but for some reason his people had embraced it.
“Reading.” Jason replied, keeping his voice carefully monotone. Where was this going?
“Right, reading,” Marco picked up. “Found some ourselves and then Yasmine called us idiots and suggested some other stuff, but well, we’ve been doing reading. And we didn’t know if you had been.”
What.
“So, we, erm, well we just thought maybe we’d pass along the important bits?” Ralph said, wringing his hat in his hands so hard Jason thought he’d tear the seems apart. “See, when ya enter into a polyamorous relationship with a new partner, it’s important to make them feel included.”
What.
“Yeah,” Marco said with an enthusiastic nod. “And we get that you and Jason already have a rhythm and everything, but Danny seems like a really sweet kid—”
“Little feral.”
“Ralph’s right, little feral, but sos you, Boss— no offense. But he seems sweet. So we don’t want to see him be hurt none just ‘cause you aren’t making room for him.”
“What.” Seriously, what?
“Yeah. Sos like, in our reading—”
Holy fucking shit. His goons did reading about polygamy for him. Because Danny had asked him to share himself. What the fucking fuck.
“—it was important that you make sure that Danny feels like he has space in your space too.”
“Yeah,” Ralph agreed and then pulled an honest to God printout from his back pocket that he smoothed out on the corner of Red Hood’s desk before sliding it over. “Small things, see? Like making sure his favorite snacks are in your apartment. Or stocking up the bath products Danny uses. Don’t just make him use what you or Jason uses.”
“He uses a 5in1 bar of soap, I’m not encouraging that behavior,” Jason growled. (Why the fuck did he say that? He only knew that as Jason.)
It made his men pause for a moment before Marco gave a little nod. “Fair enough, deserves better and all. Buy him something special to use then.”
“What’s wrong with 5in1?” Ralph asked.
“Shut up Ralph, I’ll send you some reading,” Marco replied. “Point is Boss, You have to show Danny he's just as important. We just want this to work out for you, Boss.”
“Right.”
Ralph nodded. “We see how you two look at each other is all. And how Jason looks at him. We aren’t blind, Boss.”
“Right.”
“Um, right,” Marco repeated. He stood up and slapped at Ralph’s arm till Ralph did the same. He did reach out and scoot the printouts a little closer though. “Just, we’re here for you Boss.”
Jason gave a nod of his helmet before watching them scurry out of his office.
He picked up printouts. They did research for him. His little pack of supposedly hardened criminals (fuck the fact they were more and more becoming humanitarian aid) had read up on queer relationships for him.
Shaking his head Jason set the print outs aside and tried to get back to the reports he’d been reading before whatever the fuck that just happened happened.
The third time he glanced over at the printouts he gave up, folded him up into his back pocket, and stormed out of his office. He headed for Jenny’s, the 24/7 dinner that had survived in Crime Alley for nearly 70 years through sheer determination and having good enough food and coffee that no one dared fuck with it. (Didn’t hurt that Jenny kept shotguns under the counter and was a mean shot.)
The bell clattered at his entrance as he barged in and headed to the booth in the back corner. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the pile of textbooks and notes and Danny had the nerve to smirk at him.
Jason slammed his hands down onto the table, the coffee mug rattling from the force of it. Danny calmly picked it up and cradled it to his chest.
“Want to explain to me why the fuck I just sat through two of my people trying to explain some of the finer points of polygamy to me?”
Danny choked on a sip of his coffee. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh Ancients, they—” Danny cut himself off with a snort that soon devolved into full on laughter. Jason gave up looming and took a seat as he waited the laughter out. Finally Danny recovered enough to ask, “Are they trying to talk you into it or out of it?”
“They think I’m already in it.”
It took effort not to stiffen as one of Danny’s feet brushed up against his calf. He was smirking in that way that Jason was coming to both love and hate— and that only seemed to come out around Red Hood. “You could be, if you’d give me an answer.”
“You asked to share Jason.”
Danny gave a little shrug. The motion caused the oversized sweater that Jason was just realizing was his to slip down Danny’s bare shoulder on the one side. “I figured you came as part of that deal.”
“What has Jason said about it?” He asked, as if he didn’t very well know.
“Nothing, I haven’t asked. I’m not a home wrecker. I’m not going to tempt a man to cheat if you’re not into the idea.”
Jason crossed his arms.
Danny watched him back from under his dark lashes.
This was insane.
“You know I won’t take off my helmet.”
What the fuck was he doing?
“Never said I need you to. I’m more creative than that, Boss.”
Fuck.
Danny's smirk widened.
---
Fiends, the lot of you. I'm still claiming I'm not writing this shut up. We're blaming the poll, alright?
The GOOOOONS. They're just trying their best to be supportive! They want everyone to be happy!
tag list, I guess? @addie-lover-of-stories @bathildaburp @d4ydr34min9 @sometimesthingsfallapart @idfk-man10 @vythika96 @worthlesswall @aroranorth-west @chrysanthemum9484 @ver-444 @impulsiveasshole @meira-3919 @lazy-bouqet @cryinginthevoid @thegatorsgoose @cutelittlebeanie @blankliferain @ramblingkat @ailithnight
They're absurd, you're all absurd. ...okay I'm absurd too. Stay delightful, my darlings.
Edit: master post of parts I didn't write. Nope.
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littleststarfighter · 6 months
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Well, I got the print of my calendar back from Lulu and it’s not all bad. Sadly my phone camera is a joke and I can promise they look so much better in reality.  I’m going to be putting these up for sale soon if people are interested. It’ll be a very small pre-order window of around two weeks because it took them about 3 weeks to print them. So I didn't want to be printing calendars in December because I should be posting them out by then. Nothing worse than getting a calendar and missing a whole month.
I was thinking £20 or £25? What do you guys think? Too much? I’ve looked and that's what others seem to be charging, but I can absolutely go lower. I don’t want to be expensive, but man it’s so hard trying to figure this stuff out as a complete noob to selling my works. I was going to put some free stickers in there for those who order as I did some chibi Steve and Eddies and I think they're so cute they have to be stuck on things. I’ll be sharing them to my Patreon soon and with you guys when I get the calendar post up. That's if people are interested. Will be available on my Big cartel and Etsy so you have a choice with who you feel comfortable ordering with.
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sarahs-secrets2 · 9 months
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Suit and Tie ˋ♡ˊ
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phillip graves x fem!reader
help me pick out a suit yeah? 1.6k words
pet names, innuendos, alc, some swearing
graves masterlist!!
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
It was a slow day, as usual. High-end suits were not usually an everyday purchase for some, and the store's main cash flow was regulars who had their suits delivered. This meant another boring day of reorganizing an already spotless store. You busied yourself behind the counter pretending to be going over the delivery list for tomorrow when in reality it had already been looked over 3 times today.
That was until the door chimed, and a brand new customer walked in just an hour before closing. Perfect. Your eyes flickered up to greet him, and wow did he look out of place. Of course, it isn't polite to judge a book by its cover, but sometimes if you wanted to make enough commission to cover your rent a few assumptions were necessary. Typical customers came dressed for the part, maybe they were overcompensating but it sure made your job easier. This one was different, old blue jeans with obvious fraying, a blue button-up that was just a shade lighter than the jeans, and black dirty work boots. You had seen the type before but it had been awhile.
“Sorry sir, we don’t sell jeans here. Can I redirect you to a different store?” Maybe it was a tad rude but there was no way this guy was serious, and you weren't in the mood to have your time wasted. 
He laughed, walking further into the store and right up to the counter. The man rested his palms on the glass countertop, leaning closer as he whispered, “Good thing I’m not lookin’ for jeans.” A smirk danced on his lips as he leaned back and stood up straight. “Phillip Graves, I need a suit doll, help me pick one out?”
The forwardness caught you off guard, you could feel the heat rising to your face. Maybe he wasn't going to waste your time? Trying to keep your composure you walked out from behind the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floors in the suit shop. Phillip Graves, the name echoed in your head, bouncing around, and making sure you wouldn't forget it. “Can I ask what the occasion is?”
“Mhm,” he rubbed his jaw as he thought. While he took his time, you took in his appearance. A pretty blonde, blue eyes, a stubbled jawline with the faintest scar on his cheek, who was Phillip Graves? “Military thing,” he finally said.
“So you’re military?” you scoffed, now sifting through a rack of suits. 
“You could say that.” He walked over to join you by the racks. “I’m not sure if I’m goin’ yet, but better be prepared,” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 
“Do you know your inseam?” turning to face him, eyeing him up and down trying to gauge what it could be. 
“Got me there, not a clue. Been a long time since I got a real nice suit,”
“Figured,” you laughed, Graves tilted an eyebrow up at you jokingly. “Go to the fitting rooms, just over there,” you pointed off towards the pedestal in front of the big mirrors, “and I’ll get your measurements, then we can start trying some stuff on yeah?”
“Whatever the pretty lady says,” Phillip walked over to the mirrors and stepped up onto the pedestal. You were just a few paces behind him with a loose tape measure. Taking the measuring tape in both hands you kneeled down in front of him. It wasn't hard to feel how his eyes burned into you as you began to line the tape measure against his inner thigh. Your fingers ran down his leg along with the numbers as you took his measurements. Carefully you stood up, taking a mental note of the number of his inseam. 
“Large?” Phillip raised his eyebrows, “Maybe extra large?”
“No, and not how it works” you quickly retorted, lightly slapping his chest with the tape measure. “Stay here, I’ll go pull some options. Need a drink?”
“A drink? Thought this was a suit store, not a bar,”
“Well it’s a high-end suit store, and if you're willing to pay as much as these suits cost then I can swing one whiskey your way,” 
“And how am I supposed to say no to that?”
“Thought so,” smiling, you walked back into the main showroom looking for some options. After a few minutes of digging you pulled a few different suits and brought them back to Phillip. 
“Here you go Mr. Graves,” you hung each suit on a different hook in the fitting room and motioned for Phillip to go ahead. 
“Mr. Graves,” he smirked, “No one’s called me that in a while.” As you stepped out of the fitting room to make room for him, you scrunched your face in confusion to which he caught on. “Sorry, I’m a Commander, usually it’s just Commander or Phillip. I don’t really hear mister too often now,” 
“So which do you prefer, Commander?” 
Phillip could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand as you used his rank to address him. He wasn't blind, you were stunning. It didn't help that just minutes ago you were already on your knees for him. His heart nearly pounded out of his chest as he waited for you to get his measurements, any longer and Phillip could have sworn he was going to faint. Graves’ eyes met with yours, “Just call me Phillip hon’,”
“Well, let me go get you that drink Phillip. Go ahead and start trying these on,”
“Will do,” he winked, tugging the velvety curtain across the fitting room entryway. While Phillip tried on his first suit, you went to get his drink. The bar cart wasn't far, it was important to have it close for the clients to feel welcome. Pulling out a glass you poured the whiskey in, glancing at your watch you realized it was past close. If this was any other customer maybe you would've been bothered, but you had grown quite fond of Commander Phillip Graves. Deciding to treat yourself, you poured a second glass before setting the top-shelf bottle back down. 
“Phillip, I have that drink whenever you’re done in there,”
“Go ‘head and open the curtain for me, I’m just about done,” his voice was muffled as he spoke. Setting down your glass of whiskey, you walked over to the curtain with Phillip’s drink in hand and pulled back the divider. To your surprise, Phillip was nowhere near being done. The Commander was standing shirtless, only getting the dress pants on before giving up it seemed. 
“Ah thanks, darlin’,” he slipped the whiskey out of your grasp and took a swig before setting it down on the small table in the fitting room. Your mind was elsewhere, eyes too busy taking in the physique of the man in front of you. He was fit, clearly, the military would do that to you. There were various scars, probably from combat but if anything it made him that much more attractive. “See somethin’ you like?” the southern drawl snapped you from your trance. 
The Commander laughed before turning around facing the mirror in the fitting room, his back now towards you. Fuck, his back, his shoulder, his everything. If you hadn't just met this man today, especially considering the fact he is a customer, you would be all over him. Honestly, you weren't even sure if that was enough to stop you at this point. Graves began to slip the white button-up on, your eyes glued to his back intently watching how his muscles flexed. 
“I like that suit,” you quipped back, trying to play off your obvious staring. 
“Just the suit?” Phillip turned back around, now taking his time buttoning up the shirt. His abs peeking through the fabric 
“Just the suit, I picked it out you know,”
“I know, that’s why I like it,” he finished the buttons and glanced up at you.
“You need a tie, one second,” it was part excuse and part serious. He was a sweet talker, always knowing exactly what to say and it was becoming impossible to hide the effect he was having on you. Grabbing a pale blue tie, you returned having regained some composure. “Here try this, just for the full effect,”
“Look at you, thought I was just comin’ in for jeans, now you’re pickin’ me out ties,” he teased as he adjusted the tie around his neck in the mirror. 
“Hm and you still need new jeans,” you giggled, picking up your whiskey, and taking a small sip as you watched him finish getting dressed. Phillip was finally done and stepped out of the fitting room and back onto the pedestal. 
“How’s it look?”
Taking your time, you walked around him surveying the fit of the suit. Your hands ran along the sleeves of the jacket, “A bit loose through here, but we can get this tailored.” You continued and kneeled down in front of him again, tracing the inseam of the black dress pants. “And how’s the fit on these? Do you like it?”
Phillip let out a cough, “Yeah, these are good,” he shifted in place as you stood back up. 
“Perfect,” your hands ran down the collar, grabbing onto the lapels, “Well, now we know what fits, it all comes down to what you want to do,”
“What I wanna do?” he huffed out, his head rolling back slightly, “I wanna take you out on a proper date that’s what I wanna do,” 
“Oh?” it took you by surprise, in a good way. 
“I mean, already saw me half naked. I think we skipped a few steps but a date would be a good place to start. Don’t you think darlin’,” 
“I think a date is good,” you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Phillip’s cheek, “Now about these suits…”
₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗
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wrtingsoftheunknown · 2 months
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Vincent Sinclair HC
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Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW
I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.
SFW
-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.
Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )
‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)
More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work
He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)
I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.
Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)
Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.
-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.
- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.
-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.
Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.
NSFW
I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure
He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .
He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.
Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible
Good size and thick that's all I gotta say
Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble
He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.
I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.
Can last a long time surprisingly
Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 
Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.
When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.
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ellephlox · 3 months
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Solidarity
Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.
Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank
Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!
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“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”
One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 
You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 
“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.
“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 
“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 
Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”
“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”
“Get what done?” you asked.
It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”
“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”
You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”
“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”
“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”
“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”
“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”
"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”
“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”
“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”
“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 
Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”
"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”
“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.
“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”
“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”
“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 
“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”
“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”
Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”
“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”
“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”
“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”
“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”
“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”
“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.
And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 
And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 
You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 
How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 
Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 
You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 
And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 
No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 
“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 
....A dog?
“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”
“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”
“Give her a piece of food.”
“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”
“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”
“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”
The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...
And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?
The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”
Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.
Oh, hell no. 
Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 
Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 
And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 
For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 
Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 
“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”
Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”
“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”
Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 
But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”
“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”
The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 
Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 
The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 
But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 
Where is Matt?
One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 
“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”
Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 
“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 
And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.
“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 
Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”
Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 
The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...
The bullet never came. 
Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 
That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 
Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —
“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”
Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”
“He deserves to die.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”
“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”
“But he didn’t.”
“Does that matter?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”
“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 
Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 
“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”
“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 
“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”
“You could have died.”
“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”
And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 
“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”
“You’re deflecting.”
“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”
“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”
“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 
“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 
You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”
“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 
“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 
A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.
Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 
-Elle
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prismatic-bell · 1 year
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So @hejeksbs saw that post about fandom olds freaking out about IWTV stuff being posted on the AO3, and said they’re new to fandom and fandom culture and don’t understand. So congrats, Hejek, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is going to be a basic primer, but I encourage others to chime in with details. (Also, thanks for reminding me I need an Interview exhibit in the museum. I had that written down somewhere.)
So if you go back to the 1990s and early 2000s—the pre-AO3 digital years—you’re going to see an official disclaimer on just about every fic. These basically said “I don’t own anything here, please don’t sue me.” Some were quoted elaborate.
These started because of Anne Rice.
See, Anne Rice was, how can I say this nicely…an asshole? The day she died there were literally people posting crab rave and “Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead” from The Wizard of Oz on Tumblr. Because before Harry Potter fanfiction was pretty frowned upon and you might get a C&D if you didn’t keep your head down properly, but Anne Rice.
ANNE RICE.
Anne Rice literally recruited her “loyal fans” to harass people who made fanworks. At least one person was doxxed to her workplace by rabid Ricers, and at the time fanfiction was taboo enough you could absolutely get fired for that. I was eleven and friends with someone who was 13 who’d just read Interview and drew this wonky I-am-a-kid-who-can’t-really-draw-yet-but-I-loved-this-SO-MUCH piece of fanart of Louis and Lestat, and she literally dipped off the internet because she got an extremely nasty “I’m suing you” threat from Rice. (Are you out there, Mercury000? It’s me, sailorsharon0722.)
Anne Rice did everything in her power to ensure there was no IWTV fandom at all. I’ve heard from people older than me that she used to host a “vampire’s ball” every year in New Orleans for her “loyal fans” but if you showed up and she felt your costume outshone her own, she’d make you leave. People didn’t dare so much as put “Lestat” and “fanfiction” in the same sentence.
And then, irony of ironies, when her reputation got so bad she was struggling to sell books, she…became a Christian and started writing Bible fanfiction to sell.
Yeah.
Over the years there were claims she’d changed her mind about fanfiction, but nobody ever had evidence to back this up. I even saw a dude on Quora claiming to be a close friend of hers saying we were all lying, and he got absolutely ratioed by fans going “I still have my C&D letter, you wanna fucking try again?”
Incidentally, I would like to point out that her attitude wasn’t uniform. It’s easy to say “that’s just how it was,” but Neil Gaiman has been around since the 1980s and has always appreciated fanfiction. Stephen King’s approach is “please tell me, to my face, that me explicitly writing about Cthulhu isn’t fanfiction” and otherwise pretty lassez-faire (he has no interest in knowing you’re writing fanfiction of his stuff, he just genuinely doesn’t care), and his first book was published in the early 1970s. Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, actually accepted submissions of fanfiction scripts DURING THE SHOW’S ORIGINAL RUN, at least according to popular lore. (@dduane, can you check me on this?) Mercedes Lackey—who’s 1980s-and-1990s fantasy royalty—has been asked on Quora about why she “changed her mind about fanfiction” and her response was “I never changed my mind, I just had to talk my publisher into accepting it. I’ve always been okay with it but I had to say no because of my contract.” Sure, Diana Galbaldon was out there comparing fanfiction to rape(????), but even among those who disapproved of fanfiction, Rice’s attitude and actions were extreme. And they persisted into the 2000s, too, with her egging on fans who harassed and sent death threats to a YouTube reviewer who didn’t like one of her books.
AO3 changed ALL of that.
AO3 said “here is our well-researched legal claim that fanfiction is legal, and if someone gives you shit about works you have posted on our website, our lawyers will represent you. You can post safely here. It’s okay. We got your back.”
Even so, the fear about Anne Rice continued. And can you blame people? This woman’s name held the same power in fannish conversations as “Voldemort.” (A moniker by which I’ve actually heard her called.) She all but destroyed the old guard, on purpose.
….and then a new generation of fans happened. A new generation that didn’t remember life before AO3, had never known anyone who literally had to move house to get away from Rice’s minions’ threats and harassment. I know we use “nature is healing” as a joke on this website, but really truly, that’s what happened here. She left charred tree trunks and bushes that were old-school fans and from their ashes tiny little 2010s-fans seedlings began to grow.
The thousand-odd fics you saw in those screenshots (which I feel I should clarify are from before the new show came out—a show that must have her turning in her grave, because she was absolutely adamant that all her vampires were STRAIGHT and if you thought otherwise you were DISGUSTING, and I hope she spins so hard her corpse combusts) are absolutely shocking to us older fans because it’s like staggering out of a nuclear wasteland and spotting a little garden with signs saying “free nuclear-illness medical services” and realizing it’s real. What the fuck, what the fuck, but also, holy shit y’all we’re so proud of you. YES. Keep going. Don’t let the witch get you down.
EDIT: I’ve been informed by someone in the notes that IT ACTUALLY GETS WORSE:
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I’m not going to transcribe the whole thing because I’m on mobile and most of it is just bog-standard post notes, but what’s relevant is @theoriginalvelocipastor saying “OP forgot the part where she [Anne Rice] would take ideas from fanfiction.”
Like holy motherFUCKER this woman’s hypocrisy.
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northernsiberiawinds · 11 months
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Thief.
Hi @nonvme​ how are you?
I usually solve such issues in personal messages with the authors to give them the opportunity to simply apologize and not repeat their mistakes, but this situation has upset me a lot, because I wrote to you in the comments a few months ago, but you never answered me (your private messages are closed).
You steal my textures and call it your own, as well as sell it on your patreon without any permission and credits.
Let's start from the beginning.
1. https://www.patreon.com/posts/sakira-skin-and-67386343
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“credits: obscurus-sims, lamatisse, and google lol” — absolutely no mention of me, it's amazing, because it's almost entirely my texture.
“Do not claim as your own, I work way too hard to have somebody else try to claim my stuff“  —  It's so nice to ask to respect your work when you don't respect someone else's.
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Do I need to comment on something? She just took my skin n7, added a couple of details on face and called it her own. And she put it in early access on her patreon to make money on already free сс. She listed other authors in the credits and didn't mention anything about me.
2. https://www.patreon.com/posts/precious-skin-75050799
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“Do not claim as your own, I work way too hard to have somebody else try to claim my stuff“  —  and again. The duplicity of this man never ceases to amaze me.
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Here she changed a bit more, but she used my skin's face as a base. And again, no mention of me in the credits.This time she didn't mention credits at all, but I see at least @obscurus-sims​ details.
3.
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“Credits to Slephora, Obscurus, and Pinterest for all respective bits and pieces”  — okay.
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And again, no difference. The textures are identical.
Honey, if a person wants to use my eyelids, he just uses it. There is no need to put my cc in early access again, which has been free for three years.
I want to say that I create my textures completely from scratch, without using EA blanks. Absolutely all the details on my skins are created by me. And as an artist, I can say with confidence that it is impossible to create a texture that will match someone else's pixel by pixel. It's impossible. Moreover, most of my textures are completely drawn by me. What refs from the Internet is she talking about? Did you take refs out of my head? By Bluetooth?
@nonvme you can still apologize and I won't hold a grudge against you. Just apologize and remove my textures from your page. If you had answered me a few months ago and corrected your mistakes, then I would not have written this post and would not have spoiled your reputation. But you didn't answer me.
I'm sorry that you all had to read so much text. I hope your day is going much better than mine.
P.S. I had to re-post to remove some 18+ pieces from the skins.
UPD 15/06/23
Guys! Thank you so much for all your words of support! This is really very important to me. I didn't even expect you all to support me so much. I don't have enough words to express my gratitude to all of you 😢❤️!!!
Nonvme deleted CC that included my textures, and also promised not to use it anymore. It's enough for me to forget about this incident and don't contact patreon support.
I want to add that any author who makes his textures from scratch knows every pixel of his texture. The author of the original content will know if you have used his texture, even if you have somehow modified it. If you steal other people's textures and you haven't been caught yet, it only means that the author hasn't seen your page/cc yet, because he can't monitor the entire Internet. But one day he will find out about you, do not doubt.
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hawkinshighdropout · 2 years
Text
Please Don't Judas Me.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader
Summary: Chrissy wants what she can't have, Eddie. Your best friend and long-term boyfriend. Things are growing tense in the group as you are slowly being replaced by his new best friend. Only problem was? You were here first, and he is clueless.
Warnings: No warnings, this is kinda angsty/fluff content. Unless you count a couple of curse words as needing a warning? Idk, I haven’t written fanfics in like 8 years so I’m a little rusty…
Note/Request: Requested by @authorlovers. “perhaps eddie & reader are dating and absolutely smitten but chrissy starts flirting with him and eddies confused and doesn't know what to do? but caughts himself because reader has been with him through absolutely everything and chrissy only likes him because he started getting interesting? like the hermione x ron x lavender love triangle?”
Bonus: This doesn't follow canon plot, The Upside Down and Vecna are still about and a threat, but Chrissy doesn't die in Eddie's trailer, some things are taken from the show but I reworked it for fanfic sake, please enjoy.
Word Count: 4.4k
Send me prompts to write about!
“Corroded Coffin?! Of course I remember, with a name like that, how could I forget?!” Chrissy exclaims excitedly from her spot on the bench.
Chrissy and Eddie were currently hanging out in a secluded area of the forest, he was trying to make the nervous cheerleader relax around him so he could complete the deal he was currently working on. She had gotten spooked so Eddie was trying his hardest to work his natural charm to settle her nerves and make her trust him, as much as she could trust someone selling her drugs that is.
“Earth to Lonely Wizard… Come in? Lonely Wizard, are you there? Over.” You mumbled, your voice echoing in the forest from the speaker on Eddie’s walkie talkie.
A little flustered, Eddie reached over to swipe the radio out from the seat of the bench, excusing himself politely from Chrissy and turning to wander away from her to respond to your call.
“Yeah? Uh… Can’t talk right now, I’m in the middle of a deal, is it important or can this wait?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed. It’s only when he heard you clearing your throat that he added “Over…” to the end of your response.
“A deal? Who with? Over.” voice full of intrigue, completely ignoring his question in favour of probing him with your own.
“Look, I can’t talk right now. I’ll swing by once I’m—” he starts, but you can hear Chrissy’s sweet voice in the background as she asks if he is going to be taking much longer as she had somewhere to be.
“Chrissy? The Queen of Hawkins High is buying drugs from you?” you were perplexed, voice conveying your pure shock as you couldn’t believe that this was happening.
Eddie fumbled to switch off the walkie talkie before anything else could be heard from either end, letting out a sigh before he wanders back to the bench to her. Apologising for the interruptions, he’s then sitting back down across from her, noticing how she has once again become tense and on edge.
You repeatedly tried contacting Eddie through the handset, only getting more and more annoyed that he had closed off his communication. He didn’t normally blow you off like that, he normally dropped everything to hangout with you or to let you know beforehand where he’s going. The fact he’s hanging out with a girl AND hiding it? That didn’t’ sit well with you.
“Sorry about that…” Eddie mumbled, “Okay, I can do 25% discount for the ½, $15. You’re robbing me blind here…” he laughed, glancing across at the usually peppy blonde.
“Uh… Do you…. Have anything, maybe… Stronger?” she asked, unsure of herself as she kept her eyes away from Eddie.
He looked at her as if he wasn’t really sure what to say, sure, he had other stuff, but that wasn’t usually for sale. He got by just fine with selling the weed to random people at school and around town, he didn’t just pass out pills or anything else without taking it into serious consideration. Partially for the health and wellbeing of the buyer, but also knowing the punishment and risks of getting caught with or with selling the harder stuff.
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking over her expression, not really convinced that she actually wanted to do this.
She nodded sheepishly, to which he informed her that they’d have to go back to his trailer to get it. They packed up their things and made their way to Eddie’s van, the older guy driving her to his place in almost silence as Chrissy was bubbling with nerves and he was just on edge. For all he knew, this could have been a trap to catch him and get him in trouble with the police, he couldn’t just let down his guard without second guessing it.
Shutting off the engine, they climb out of the car and slam the doors shut, Eddie lets her inside first before following in soon after her. The trailer door slammed shut and they disappeared out of sight, causing you to pull down your binoculars and huff in annoyance from where you sat in Max’s trailer with her.
“Son of a bitch!” you cuss.
Max glancing your way with an amused look on her face. She knew you hadn’t come by just to hangout. She knew you wanted to use her to spy on Eddie, and as long as you told her the details? She was game.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
You felt arms wrapping around your midsection from behind and a kiss being pressed to your shoulder whilst you’re putting your things away in your locker, it making you jump slightly, but soon relaxed at the smell of your boyfriend lingering on you. Glancing up at him with a weak smile, you say hello before focusing back on what you were doing.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie says fondly, pressing a kiss to the centre of your forehead once you’d finally turned to face him.
“Why was Chrissy at your house last night? Why didn’t you call me back when you got home? Why did I have to find out via Max that you were home and that you brought another girl home?” You snapped, questions being fired off left right and centre from you. Technically the Max part wasn’t true, but he didn’t need to know that.
He looked stunned, overwhelmed at the sudden outburst from you and he struggled to find an answer he could give without someone getting in trouble. He eventually sighed and wrapped his arms around you once again, you tried to push him away, but his voice in your ear made you think twice.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear, “It got weird… She wanted to buy some weed cause she’s having a hard time, but then she asked for something stronger? You know I don’t keep that shit on me so we had to go back to my place… She bought some and then took it, and she ended up reacting really badly to it so I had to make sure she didn’t die. The town already hates me, I didn’t really want people to find her body in my trailer and assume “The Freak” killed her. I should have told you but it was really late when I finally got her to sober up and take her home, I’m sorry.”
You took a couple moments to process everything he just said before nodding in understanding. He wasn’t forgiven, but you were relieved to hear it was far more innocent than you first thought. Out of context things looked really badly for Eddie, but this put a small spin on things.
“Alright.” Is all you say, the bell ringing as you’re receiving another kiss to your forehead, Eddie shuts your locker and walks you to class.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Classes went by slower than usual today, everything felt like a drag. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the adrenaline crash you had from last night? Who knows? All you knew was that you were tired and wanted to get home. You walk back to your locker to put your last class’s stuff away when you see Eddie leaning up against his locker, Chrissy annoyingly close by to him.
They’re laughing and she’s giggling like a school girl with a crush, making you see red as you walk past. An annoyed look on your face as you stuff your things into the locker and slam it shut with a huff. Gather attention from those around you from the sudden bang of noise it caused.
Eddie closed his locker and excused himself from the conversation with Chrissy before making his way over to you, hand sliding into your own as he gives your cheeks a few soft kisses. You relaxed instantly once he was focusing back on you, catching the pouty look on Chrissy’s face as you both exchanged kisses.
“What did Pom Poms want?” You mumble between kisses, causing him to snicker at the childish choice of nickname.
“She tried inviting me to the party this weekend cause her parents are out of town, I told her I’m not much of a party person but she insisted.”
“Oh… Are you gonna go?” you frown a little.
“Hell no, it’s the night of the Hellfire Campaign, I’m not missing that for a couple warm beers shitty music.” He grinned, kissing the side of your head and giving your hand a squeeze as he lead you back to his truck so he could take you home.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
“I pick Eddie!” Chrissy squealed the next day in class, declaring the metal head as her work partner for the day.
The teacher had just told the class to buddy up as this project would be a collaborative project, so you were surprised when the most popular girl in school picked him. Not because he didn’t deserve the attention, but because he was always your partner. He’s your boyfriend, you always working together on things.
“Wait, huh?” He looked confused, surprised to see the blonde happily making her way over to his desk with her things, plopping herself down beside him.
He shot you an apologetic look as there’s nothing he could do about it, not without causing a scene. You sigh in defeat before turning to Robin who’s already watching the scene play out. She’s gesturing for you to come and work with her as Steve and Nancy already coupled up. Scooping up your things and walking to sit beside her, you thank her for picking you.
“Please, I’m just glad I’m not stuck with Snoozy Suzie, I’m sick of doing all the work and having to put her name on there for credit” she explained, causing you both to snicker before starting to plan the project.
Every now and again chrissy’s obnoxious giggle would fill the room, looking at her to see her touching and flirting with your boyfriend, him being clueless to the whole thing. You’d already snapped one pencil in anger, to which Robin grabbed her pencil case and clutched it to her chest in over dramatic shock as if to defend the rest of her pencils from your evil ways.
“Whoa there, Thor. What did my pencil ever do to you?!” Robin whined, to which you shot her an apologetic look before leaning closer to explain the situation to her.
Once she was caught up, she glanced in their direction and rolled her eyes. She could tell that Chrissy was doing the most and Eddie didn’t have a freaking clue what was going on.
“Boys are clueless, hm?” She asked
“You’re telling me.” You grumbled, sliding over your extra stick of bubblegum as a ways of calling a truce for breaking her Pencil.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
“You’ve gotta be shitting me…” you curse as you walk into the lunchroom to see Chrissy standing beside your friends as they’re sat at their usual table.
You walk closer with a confused look on your face, greeting the guys with a tone that should read ‘wtf is going on here?’ Eddie beams at the sight of you and tugs you down onto his lap, arms around your middle as he gives you a couple kisses to the cheek whilst Chrissy was talking.
The poor blonde was doing her best to seem quirky and cute, trying to keep the attention of the table on her as she needed it. The other guys one by one lost interest by either their food or something they were reading in their magazines in preparing for this weekend’s campaign. Chrissy resorted in focusing on only Eddie as he was the only one who was polite enough to ensure she didn’t feel left out.
“So, Eddie…? Are you coming to the big game this weekend?” She asks, eyes hopeful.
“I hate sports.” He says bluntly at the exact same time that you manage to mumble ‘he hates sports.’ It made you grin and caused Eddie to laugh a little at how in sync you were, anyone who knew Eddie for more than a second would know that basketball wasn’t his thing. At all.
“Oh… Really? But, it would be so cool to have you there! Plus, I’ll be leading the cheer team at during the match so—“ she continues, to which you cut her off with a tone laced with sarcasm.
“I thought you were having a party this weekend? What happened to that?”
She looked flustered, clearing her throat before scrambling for a response. It was obvious that there was no party, just another attempt at getting Eddie alone.
“Yeah, uh, that’s after! To celebrate!”
“And what if you lose? You gonna “celebrate” getting your ass kicked? Bit weird.” You could tell you were being hostile, you truly didn’t care. The guys surrounding you all looked up from whatever they were doing to pay attention, a free front row seat to the show.
“Uh… i don’t know, maybe?” She shrugs.
“I have Hellfire anyway, so I can’t. Sorry.” Eddie interjects, he could feel you getting tense in his lap so he tried to defuse the situation. He had no intention of going to the game even if he was free, he just needed a valid excuse to end this agonising conversation.
“Oh… That’s okay! Next time?” Hope back in her voice, to which Eddie just gives her an awkward smile and nod, empty promises.
You watch as she waves goodbye to him, only him, causing your eyes to roll back into the pits of hell with how peeved you were.
“Bye, Pom Poms!” You call out in annoyance.
Dustin snickered beside you, clearly everyone could see what was happening here. Everyone except Eddie, who was still as clueless as always. He just assumed you didn’t like Chrissy for whatever reason, and he didn’t want you unhappy with her lingering about.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Eddie and Chrissy started spending more and more time together outside of school. He would (attempt) to help her with her homework whenever she feigned being unable to answer a certain question, they’d grab milkshakes at the mall after drug deals (just weed for Chrissy, she’s learnt her lesson), she even went to a couple of his shows at The Hideout.
Eddie? He was just enjoying the company of a good friend, he was polite and respectful and kept her at an arm’s length. Chrissy, though? She was another story. She would be overly flirty, giving him nicknames and complimenting him, trying to get involved in every aspect of his life. She was trying to take your place.
You knew that, she knew that, but no one spoke a word of it. At this point she was one of Eddie’s most valued customers, as much as it killed you, you didn’t want to ruin that for him cause he needed the money. So you swallowed your pride and let them hangout as long as there were boundaries. These boundaries hadn’t been discussed, they were merely in your head. You’d soon make it known if things went too far for your liking…
That day? It came quicker than hoped. You hoped she would get bored and find someone else to spend all her free time with. Chrissy and Jason were always breaking up and getting back together again, you thought it would only be a few days before they were smooching in the hallway against the lockers. Leaving Eddie alone, hopefully.
You were just finishing up reading in the library, studying for your English test that’s coming up next week. Eddie was hosting Hellfire and it was due to end at any moment, so you packed up your things and started walking through the school down towards the club. This was routine for you now, he’d play games with the kids and then you’d wait for him, and he would drive you all home together to make sure everyone got home safe afterwards.
Upon getting to the door to the club, you saw that Chrissy was sat on the floor waiting. You halted, taken aback from the sight of the squeaky clean teenager waiting outside the Dungeons and Dragons room. None of the words of that sentence went together in your head, she shouldn’t be here.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, attempting to seem polite so you don’t cause friction, she was now a good friend of Eddie’s after all.
“Oh, I’m waiting for Eddie! I was hoping he would be okay to give me a ride home once he’s done!” She said, voice far too cheery for your liking.
“He can’t, he’s driving the kids home and then we’re getting burgers together.” You state, knowing that there would technically be enough room in the van, but you didn’t want her to tag along. “Shouldn’t you be at the game anyway? Thought you had to do that tonight? Or was it your fake party? Or some other ruse to get him alone?” Your voice sounding more pissed with each passing minute.
“Oh; uh. It was… postponed?” She questions, spurting out the first thing that came to her mind as to why she wasn’t at the various hangout suggestions she had mentioned.
“All of them? What bad luck…” your tone soaking in sarcasm, you didn’t buy a single letter of her bullshit. “Just go home, Chrissy.”
You were growing tired of her games. It was hard enough dealing with her via proxy as a friend of Eddie’s, you didn’t want to deal with her fully mingling in your circle.
“Do you have a problem with me?” She questioned.
You stayed silent, staring in her direction whilst having an internal debate on whether to give you a piece of your mind or not.
“No, of course I don’t. Of course I don’t have a problem with you hanging off the arm of my boyfriend and trying to get him alone, doing drug deals and taking him for milkshakes, of course I’m totally fine with you trying to worm your way in and get affection, nope.” If looks could kill, Chrissy would be six feet under right now. Your voice made it abundantly clear that you did indeed have a problem.
“We’re just friends!” She defends, to which you scoff.
“Yeah, cause Dustin and his other friends also spend time calling him pretty and twirling his hair, hm? His other friends try and hold his hand when he’s walking beside them, hm?”
She was speechless, red in the face and speechless. She didn’t realise you’d been watching her like a hawk, seeing every little motion and gesture these past couple weeks as she grew closer to YOUR boyfriend.
“I won’t tell you again, Chrissy. Go. Home.” Your voice stern this time, watching as she stood up. You hoped she would have just taken off running and saved you the trouble, you didn’t expect her to get up in your face a little.
“Look, Eddie is my best friend! We’re going to hangout and if you wanna continue to date him, you better deal with it!” Chrissy snapped, your eyes widened and voice darkened.
“Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes, nothing to say.
“First of all, Princess. Eddie has been my boyfriend far longer than he’s been your friend, okay? So actually, I don’t have to deal with anything. If I tell him how angry and uncomfortable you make me, if I really let him know how I truly feel, you’d be gone. I only keep my mouth shut so I don’t make him choose between us, he’s your friend and im not trying to get in the way of that. But if I told him how much you piss me off, you’d be gone quicker than Jason left you for Tiffany.”
Chrissy gasps in surprise that you’d sink that low to say such a hurtful thing. It was kinda out of line, but right now? You didn’t care.
“Secondly, that boy has a heart of gold but he’s not good at picking up signals. He thinks you’ve just been friendly this whole time, but I see the way you look at him and I know you’re trying to get in his pants. He’s not interested in you, he’s perfectly happy with me. He doesn’t even know you like him like that, so I’d take this as an opportunity to back off and muffle any little crush you have on him, cause it’s never going to happen.”
You step closer to her, which immediately she shrinks in on herself, not quite as tough as she made herself out to be moments ago.
“And thirdly? Get up in my face like that again, or try and tell me what I can and cannot do with MY boyfriend? and I’ll make Vecna look like a god damn puppy, you hear me?” Your voice hushed, it wasn’t just a threat.
Before she could answer or even acknowledge you, the sound of a squeaky door pulled you both from the heat of the moment. Both of your heads snap towards the sound and see Eddie folding his arms and holding them to his chest whilst he glanced between you both.
“Do we have a problem?” he asks. You hadn’t realised how loud both of you had gotten, to the point where it interrupted the game they were playing inside. Eddie had shrugged it off a couple times, but it became too distracting so he had to check it out for himself. Over his shoulder you could see the kids dressed up in various little outfits, wide eyed and clearly focusing on nothing but what the adults were yelling about outside.
“N-No” Chrissy mumbled, shaking her head and looking down to the floor, red faced.
“Jury’s still out on that one.” You grump, eyes soon locked back on the nervous blonde, eyes burning a hole into her head.
“Y/N, go sit with Erica for a second…” glaring at Chrissy whilst you slip into the room, going to sit with the kids as the door shuts behind you. Leaving Chrissy and Eddie face to face to talk, swatting the arms of the kids and hushing them so you could hear what was being said.
Not long after, Eddie returns to the room and thankfully? He was alone. His face holding an expression that says “we’ll talk later.” Sitting back at the head of the table, he clears his throat and resume the campaign, you sit in silence the whole time, glancing between Eddie and the kids.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Erica and Lucas were the last stop, watching as the kids disappear safely inside of their home with a small wave befor Eddie pulls out of their driveway and makes his way back home. The ride was silent, awkward. You felt like you were in trouble even though you’d done nothing wrong. Nothing serious, at least.
Pulling up to his trailer, you both get out of the car and walk inside, taking off your shoes and jacket whilst Eddie locks up and grabs himself a beer to unwind with on the couch.
“You’re such a brat, you know?” He starts, catching you off guard, before you’ve got a chance to defend yourself, he continues. “But that’s why I love you… I’m sorry.”
Looking more confused than ever, you didn’t know what’s happening. Why was he apologising? Why was he calling you a name? Huh?
“For Chrissy….” He could see the look on your face and decided to provide context, setting down his beer to run a hand through his own curly hair as he spoke. “Listen… She needed a friend, I became that, you know? She was terrified, to the point of asking for pills because the shit with Vecna freaked her out so bad. She couldn’t go home or tell anyone cause no one believed her, I just wanted to make her feel better, you know? Steve and Dustin were on my ass about her being around cause they said she liked me and said you hated her. I blew them off cause it sounded like bullshit, I’m just an idiot aren’t I?”
You watch as he sighs and puts his face in his hands, shaking your head as you wander closer to him.
“A… cute idiot?” You offer with a half hearted tone, taking his hands and holding them in your own as he looks up at you with a sad smile.
“I just… I don’t know. I’m just so smitten with you that it doesn’t even cross my mind that anyone else could be a person of interest; you know? I saw her as a friend and assumed she did the same for me. So for weeks I’ve been sending her mixed signals and hurting you in the process, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he sighs.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I get really jealous easily and she was one stop away from throwing herself at you. I just couldn’t take it anymore.” You pout.
Bringing you into his lap, his arms wrap around your middle and he gives you a few soft kisses as you straddle him. Hands resting on his cheeks so your thumbs can glide against his cheekbones. Getting lost in his big brown eyes as your noses bump together, falling into the same heartbeat rhythm as you talk.
“She’s gone, don’t worry. I told her that I’m not going to jeopardise what we have when she makes you so uncomfortable. Plus she clearly doesn’t respect you if she’s been chasing me this whole time, and I don’t respect anyone who disrespects you. Okay?”
Nodding in understanding, he’s then bringing you down and giving you one last kiss against your pouty lips.
“Okay… Thank you.” You mumble.
You fall against his chest and end up in a warm bundle of limbs, tangled together in a protective and comforting manner. The both of you keeping the other soothed, you playing with his hair and him stroking your back fondly. A snort from Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Hm?” You mumble into his shoulder.
“‘I’ll make Vecna look like a puppy’” he says, doing his best impression of you before he cracks up laughing.
You groan, red cheeked and hiding in the curve of his neck, somewhat embarrassed by how cheesy your line was earlier, “shut uuuuup” you whine, to which he just giggles, squeezes you closer and kisses the top of your head.
“That’s never gonna happen, sweetheart.”
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luneariaa · 3 months
Text
just smth about you working at a cafe,, and higu pays you a visit. plot is almost going nowhere hshshs,, and yes this is as fluffy as it can get lmao.
. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🌻
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The sounds of the bells ringing from atop of the entrance door caught your attention, which is a signal that someone has walked into the cafe that you’re currently working at. The cafe itself was actually being run by one of your friends, which she had offered you a place to work there back then. 
Upon noticing the familiar face of your beloved, a happy smile immediately made its way to your face; hands automatically starting to brew some fresh hot coffee for him as usual. Higuruma didn’t need to tell you anything– you always knew his favourite drink whatsoever. 
Heck, even making some of his favourite sandwiches out of love for him. The dark-haired attorney always appreciates your efforts in ways that you possibly imagined.
By the time he’s about to make some order by the counter, you have already placed the coffee in front of him– which always, and always managed to catch him by surprise, before thanking you for your sweet and thoughtful gesture.
Higuruma sips on his coffee slowly after finding a rather reserved seat just nearby where you are; trying to savour the taste of it, yet his eyes couldn’t resist from glancing at your form occasionally. You were always so hardworking to him, and it’s one of your main traits that he finds captivating. 
“What’s with the stare?” You let a small chuckle out of you, now noticing how he begins to not shy away his constant gaze at you. He returns the same chuckle, propping one hand atop of the counter and rests his head there.
“What, I can’t appreciate looking at you and admiring your beauty?” Higuruma replies in a slightly lower tone, yet with a hint of teasing, as if to make sure you’re the only one who heard it closely.
“That’s kinda sappy,” you laughed humorously, yet also finding it actually sweet. “I appreciate that.”
His breath begins to hitch in his throat when you decide to do a bit of a bold move– gradually and slightly leaning your face closer to his, but still leaving some space for him to breathe.
“Could say the same to you, Mr. Lawyer.” 
His reaction actually satisfies you once you retreat from your initial stance; getting him all flustered that he had to loosen his tie a bit, and the clearing of his throat. Luckily, by some miracle, no one saw it.
But your co-worker friend has sent you a cheeky grin from afar, letting you have your moment alone with him, even though your shift is almost over. She’s the sweetest.
“Not so sappy when it’s just the truth.”
“But still..” You both shared a heartwarming laugh with one another. At least, you’re here to make him try to forget about his stresses from earlier cases.
“I’m not gonna take back what I’ve been saying though,” Higuruma grins lovingly at you. “I think your hard work alone would put even my skills to shame.”
“Nah, don’t sell yourself short!”
“Did anything happen today?” You finally changed the topic with another, wanting to know about your beloved instead as you gazed at him intently. All the while placing your hand atop of his as a sign of unspoken comfort.
“Got a quite difficult case today actually,” he shrugs and slouches over slightly; grasping back onto your hand with an equal affection underlying within it. 
“It’s just the usual client stuff, don’t worry. I’m handling it alright so far, but enough about me. How are things going here? How are you doing?”
A quiet exhale came from you by his answer. Even when his day isn’t really going well, he always has you in his mind instead– a trait that you find endearing, but it didn’t manage to stop the feeling of concern from resurfacing for his well-being.
“Everything’s going well here, don’t worry about me.”
“I’m so sorry that you had a rough day,” you gave your beloved a sympathetic smile. “Is there anything I can do about it?”
“Well–” His thumb brushes along your knuckles ever so tenderly, as if he’s afraid of possibly hurting you in the process. “--your presence alone is already enough for me, I promise you.”
“Just a little tired, that is. But it’ll pass soon; I’ve worked through tougher cases before.”
Knowing all too well that any attempt to shot back his statement will be futile, you eventually sighed in agreement. “Just don’t be too harsh on yourself.”
He merely nodded, not wanting to worry you any further, and lifts one of your hands up to his lips– pressing a soft kiss on it, which is enough to make you a bit of a flustered mess from his actions alone. You’re highly aware that it might be hard for him to try and do so; knowing how much of a passionate man he can be, especially anything about justice. 
“Are you able to wait for a bit more? My shift will end soon.” You tell while your eyes checked on the clock that’s hanging on the wall. “Or if you have to go back to work– I’m alright with it.”
The dark-haired attorney only gave a slight, comforting shake of his head. “Well, I do have to get some stuff back in the office.”
“I don’t think anyone’s around there at this time, so we can go there together. It won’t take long.”
“Then, we can grab some dinner outside tonight. How’s that sound?”
And who could’ve refuse such offer? It sounds amazing already for the both of you.
“That’s a deal then!”
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© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.
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makncheese12 · 11 months
Text
Top Shelf pt. 6
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7
Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.
A/N: this was an idea someone sent, I added some stuff as well. I can already see you guys flocking in when I post this chapter, especially after not posting for a bit.
Warning: language? My writing
Jenna Ortega x Fem!reader
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“You’re pathetic,” Lyle says as he begins aggressively erasing the work you had tried so hard on. “Can’t do maths, can’t cook, can’t flirt, what can you do?” He says as you lean back and drag your hands down your face.
He had been like this the entire weekend after your outing with Jenna and Emma; mentioning how you were bad at everything and never forgetting to mention how you can’t flirt.
Though he had been texting Emma all weekend, the two had come short of any ideas of what to do to make you two put two and two together and finally ask the other out.
And the two of you weren’t exactly helpful.
“Do you have to berate me on something no one’s is good at?” You ask, watching your cat jump on the table and begin playing with the small eraser scraps.
“You don’t have to be good at it to know how to do it.” He says picking up a book from the large pile of stacked books.
“I haven’t done it in years, why do I have to it now?” You ask as he slams the book down. “Because you need to do it or you’ll live a lonely life in the darkness of your room forever.” He states angrily as he flips through the pages aggressively.
“Are you sure you’re still talking about business school?” Dru asks looking up from the computer before looking back down.
“Yes,” Lyle says as he pushes the open book toward you. “What else would we be talking about?” He yanks his head toward you and his tightly tied back hair comes loose from the hair tie.
He lets out an aggravated huff before pulling his hair back and walking away to find a mirror, mumbling this and that under his breath as he does so.
“He’s being over dramatic.” You say as Mj takes her seat in front of you, loud dinging noises coming from the game boy she had found somewhere stashed away in the storage closet.
“It’s Lyle, of course he’s being over dramatic.” She mumbles, eyes never leaving the small screen in front of her.
How she had found the small game you didn’t know, you used to dig through the storage compartment all day before working at the bookstore but never once did you see any of the older electronic’s, even when the store had stopped selling them.
Then again it was a big area, you wouldn’t be surprised if they found one of the first TV’s in there.
“He’s never going to leave me alone about this.” You mumble, music loudly vibrating through your ear bud as you begin working again. “Again, it’s Lyle we’re talking about here.”
She was right, though he was one of your best friends he still had his tendencies to try to get too into that roll. Trying to help you with things but taking it too far most of the time.
Yes, you appreciated it but sometimes it could be a bit much.
“Yo,” the voice calls out from the second floor making you look up to see the plumber. “I’m done, I just gotta show you some shit that you need to replace or fix.” He says and you sigh.
“Can you check this for me?” You ask sliding your notebook toward the woman who huffs out but non the less takes the book to look over.
You smile lightly before rushing toward the stairs to catch up with the much older man.
“And she can’t even look her in the eye!” Lyle grumbles as he scratches Achilles stomach walking back toward his table of friends.
“Now where’d she go? Trying to avoid her work just like asking Jenna out?” He asks as he looks around and allows the cat to jump out of his arms and toward the cat tree in the front of the store.
“Chill,” Mj says as she checks off one problem and begins erasing another. “She went with the Jones to check the pipes.”
“Oh,” he mumbles before slumping himself into his seat next to yours. “Can you believe her though?” He asks and she can’t help herself as she rolls her eyes.
Yes, she knew you were bad at anything to do in the romantic section of things but he didn’t have to tell her non stop after your little double date.
“Yes, I can.” She says as she slides the book back into its spot. He scrunches his nose in disgust as the girl stands to put the game boy back where she found it.
“What do you mean?” He asks following after her quickly.
“Not everyone is like you and wants to rush into relationships Lyle.” She groans out noticing the boy following her. “You can’t expect Y/N to rush a fucking celebrity into a relationship either.”
“But their both annoyingly oblivious.” He states as she climbs the ladder in the storage room. “Maybe, but let them do it their own way with just a little of your help, look,” she starts before jumping down the ladder to look up toward the man.
“Y/N is a quiet kid you should know this by now, we are the ones who decided to bust into her life after all. She keeps most herself and things to herself, never takes off her ear buds and doesn’t bother anyone.” She states as they leave the room.
“You can’t expect her to change what she knows over night because of one person, even if she is clearly in love with them. And Jenna,” she quickly turns to look at the man.
“She probably speculates every little suspicious thing, she is famous after all. She could think Y/N is just in it for the fame or whatever.” Lyle presses his lips together at the thought of you and your very private family wanting to be seen by the world, it only makes him snort at the mere idea.
“But she’s not.” He replies and she taps his chest. “So let her figure that out, let them figure it out. You don’t have to berate her twenty four seven.”
“That’s exactly what you do all the time.” Dru adds as he clicks the computer mouse quickly. “No, I do it to make you all better as people, he’s doing it to just humiliate Y/N.” The woman calls out. “There’s a differe-“
Before she could finish the sentence the man in front of her sprints away and toward the front of the store.
He quickly twists the lock and yanks the door open before forcing himself out. The person he had seen turns to look at him making the second much larger person do the same.
“Jenna!” He calls out, walking out of the door and toward her. “Leaving so soon?” His smiling wide and beaming when he steps up to her.
A small smile forms on her own face as the man nears, his lanky form now towering over her own. “Hey Lyle,” she says as the man steps between the two and shoots a quick glare toward the much larger man.
“And kind of, the stores closed.” She gestures toward the small closed sign on the door and shrugs.
“Nonsense.” he says and pulls the girl toward the door. “It’s just us so you can come in.” He quickly ushers her through and pushes the body guard inside before slamming the door back shut and locking it.
A pressure forms at the bottom Jenna’s leg causing her to look down and see a fluffy cat rubbing up angst her leg before looking up at her.
She lets out a quiet gasp as she reaches down and picks up the orange ball of fluff as it begins to purr. “Oh my god.” she gasp as he begins rubbing its head on the top.
Lyle can’t help the smirk that forms, the usually jumpy cat immediately fawning over Jenna, just like it’s owner. How hysterical.
“That’s Achilles.” He says as he begins walking toward the counter Jenna following closely behind as the cat settles into her arms. “He’s Y/N’s.”
“He’s a street rat who belongs on the street.” Mj says walking out of the storage room once again holding a different gaming device even Lyle couldn’t decipher.
“And that’s Mj,” Lyle huffs out. “Also Y/N’s, she found her at a McDonalds.” He makes sure to mutter the last part but it only earns a glare from the woman.
“Mj? Like Mary Jane?” Jenna jokes as the cat begins rubbing up on her chin once again. The joke only earns a glare from the taller woman who presses her lips together.
The joke had been made so many times that it was getting old, even for Lyle who found it amusing every time.
“Y/N!” The woman yells too loudly for a library before quickly turning and storming off in the direction where you had left.
She looks up to Lyle who glance between her and the stairs where she stomped up. The man was both awkward and sociable, not like many she had met; most were either just awkward or very social. It was a strange thing.
“And that,” he says suddenly, gesturing to the man whose playing the computer with his face far to close to the screen. “Is Dru, you can just call him DD.”
“Do not call me that.” The man says as he eyes go over the screen as if being unfocused and trying to refocus.
“That’s your name, idiot.” He empathizes the last word as he leans against the counter. “My initials are not my name.” The man rolls his eyes as he only gives the two a glance. “That’s what makes up your name, hence your name.”
“That makes no sense.” His eyes stay on the screen but his face scrunches at the mans comment.
“Moving on,” the man drags out as he leans further into the counter toward Jenna who turned to him, still holding the cat. “What brings you here?” He asks, fighting the smirk that slowly begins to form on his face.
“Uh..” Jenna mumbles as her eyes travel down to the cat who stares back up at her. “Just in the area?..” it comes out as more of a question and Lyles face drops as he stares at the girl, head resting in hand.
“Just in the area?” He asks, clearly not buying whatever lie she was trying to tell. “Yeah.” She states but it comes out uncertain as if she were trying to figure it out herself.
“Uh huhh,” he says as his other hand comes up to rest under his chin with the other. “Definitely not because of a library loser.” He says, legs kicking behind the counter as he raises his eyebrows suggestively at her.
She opens her mouth to speak but is quickly stopped at the sound of foot steps echoing in the quiet library.
“Just don’t forget to tell your parents, yeah?” A man’s voice says as she looks up to see you, Mj and a man who had to be the source of the voice.
“Got it.” You reply before your eyes meet hers and she can’t help but notice the way your eyes scrunch up as you smile at her or the way her heart begins beating at a faster pace as you do so.
“Hey,” you say as you step toward her glancing down at the cat in her hands. “Is that my cat?” The confusion in your voice evident as you point at it “Does it look like your cat?” Mj asks, rolling her eyes as she locks the door behind the plumber.
“Yes but my cat doesn’t like people.” You state, watching as it begins rubbing its head against her cheek and his purrs grow louder.
“Sound like someone you know?” Dru asks as a small smile forms on his face.
“Well, he clearly likes Jenna.” Lyle mumbles as you narrow your eyes down at the cat who seemed to be taunting you with his eyes. He had never been that affectionate before, why was he starting now?
“Jealous?” Jenna asks, eye brow rising as she smirks up at you. Your narrowed eyes move to her as you press your lips together.
You started noticing different things about Jenna, like now how she used certain things to her advantage to get to you. A way to tease you more so but to see your reactions always gave her a boost in both her ego and confidence.
“I think she’s more jealous of the cat.” All confidence was gone at the comment Lyle says as he watches the two of you, amused by every look or comment you’d send each other. The blush from the cold air outside turned darker as she looked back down to the cat and the shade on your face was much darker.
He liked the way you both seemed to blush, now certain you both had interest in the other but then Mj’s voice broke his thoughts about their earlier conversation and he let a pout take his features as he slipped down the counter and to the other side.
It wasn’t going to be easy nor enjoyable for the man but it was what was right. Not being able to interfere much was going to kill him but he figured if he could get to tease you both a little he would live.
“I still think it’s strange how such a skittish thing could just decide it wasn’t going to be skittish with one person.” You state, laughing quietly to yourself as you make your way back toward the table.
“He’s usually not like this?” Jenna asks as she follows after you leaving Lyle to peek over the counter to watch you.
“Quit, you’re being creepy.” Mj says as she moves past the small door to see him in a squatting position.
“It’s not creepy, I’m just observing.” He states as his eyes narrow at the lack of spaces between you both as Jenna takes her seat not in front of you but beside you.
“Yeah, like a creep.” She mutters as she looks over toward the two of you.
“They’re so infuriating.” The man mumbles inviting her statement as he turns around and leans against the cup cabinets, legs sprawled out.
The woman only shakes her head and rolls her eyes, preparing herself for the rant that’s to come from the man.
“Business school?” She asks as she looks over your notebook and the many erased parts on it as she subconsciously rubs Achilles.
“Cant let some random stranger take over once my parents retire, you know?” You say as you tap to end of the pencil on the table, looking over the work Mj had marked wrong.
“Worst part about being the kid of a library owner is people think you’re smart.” You state as you begin erasing once again. “So, you’re not smart?”
You snort quietly as you look up toward her. “Oh I definitely am, my mom made sure of that.” You state at the thought of you and your mom at the table in the middle of the night while you cry over homework.
“Math was just never my strongest subject.” You state, glaring down at the paper with the faintest of pouts on your face.
That’s one thing Jenna began to notice more often, your facial expressions. Even the smallest ones became more noticeable. Or maybe she was just staring you too often.
“What about you?” You ask suddenly leaning back into your chair. “Do you go to college?” It was a reasonable question, she was your age and definitely suitable for going but it still saddened her slightly.
“No, I’m focusing more on my acting career.” She states with a small smile as she stares down at the cat in her lap who had fallen asleep with its head up.
“It makes me wonder what my life would be like if I never started acting.” She hums out quietly and she begins tracing the stripes across your cat.
The way her face relaxes with sorrow makes your heart ache slightly, the tightening feeling only makes you want to reach out to her and comfort her but would that be pushing it?
No, it couldn’t have been, right? You had grown close over the last month but you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” The words come out certain, cocky almost. A smirk plays it’s way onto your face as she looks up with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.
“Why’s that?” She asks, leaning toward you subconsciously and you can’t help but do the same very not as much as she does.
If there was no distance between you both before, there certainly wasn’t now with her thigh and arm pressed against yours.
“Because then you wouldn’t have come here and knocked down the books off the shelf or I wouldn’t have met you.” You say, smirk; proud of yourself for having any type of height to help her with the book.
A quiet laugh comes from the woman, one you had heard many times in different forms but it had also got your heart pounding against your chest, eager to get out and display itself before her.
“That is a good point.” She says nodding to herself as she continues rubbing Achilles across his back making it arch subconsciously in his sleep. Her eyes meet yours, they’re once again scrunched up from your smile and far warmer than the weather outside, it causes her heart to beat even faster than before.
She goes to say something else but is once again interrupted by one of your friends.
“Everyone stop!” Dru calls out as he stands quickly, the screech of the chair filling the room. Lyle’s head pops above the counter and Mj looks up from her book.
“Can you shut the hell up?” She calls out, annoyance clear in her voice as the man begins gathering his things.
“It’s 5:30, we need to go.” He says, rushing around to pick things up and put them away.
That’s right. Thirty minutes before Thursday throw down on Minecraft, a large match on bed wars with a hundred players against each other. Something he took far too seriously.
“Go where?” Jenna asks as you begin gathering your things. “Back to my place for his stupid little game.” You roll your eyes looking back at every Thursday’s for the past five years.
“You should come see us screaming at a screen.” You state as you look toward the girl, realization hits you when you realize it wasn’t exactly a question. “If you want, that is.”
She laughs quietly as the man rushes past the two of you with many CD cases in hand, eager to get back to your apartment.
“I would love to.” She says and relief rushes through you and a smile graces your face. “Great.” You say, smile never leaving as you go to put the books in the respective spot while trying to remember if you had cleaned up your apartment or not.
“Hurry!” The man ushers all of you as he grabs the leash to Achilles harness and clips it to him making Jenna take it as she stands, still refusing the drop the cat.
————
You’re eyes quickly find the familiar old homeless man in front of your apartment building bringing a smile to your face as he plucks his guitar strings with such elegance even you were jealous.
“Hey Julian.” You say with a smile as you step up to him and he stops playing to look at your small group.
“Ah, on another one of your sleep overs?” He asks as he scans the group before his eyes land on Jenna. “And you brought a new friend.” He says with a smile but Dru quickly shuts any time for introductory out as he storms past you.
“5:53, let’s go people!” He says as he storms inside the door.
The man rolls his eyes before they land on Lyle. “I see why the boys are acting strange now, you’re here Lyle.” He says and the man stiffens up, the thought of six little boys running around your apartment building with water guns clear in his mind.
Your smile grows as you move past him, Mj and Jenna not far behind. “Careful, ellos quieren venganza..” the man says and you can’t help but feel sorry for Lyle who was about to be soaked in — god knows from where — water.
You rush up the stairs to your floor only to be met with a Dru who looks down at his watch and shuffles around anxiously.
“Come on.” He drags out as you walk up to the door and unlock it.
As soon as the door opens Achilles jumps out of Jenna’s arms and circles your feet, screaming loudly as you make your way to the kitchen.
You huff out as he jumps up on the counter to watch you grab his food.
“Turn it on!” You hear Dru call out as Mj settles into the bean bag next to your couch, holding up the remote as Dru sits eagerly on the edge of the couch leaving Jenna to stand in your kitchen as she looks around the small kitchen connected to your much larger living room.
“This is nice.” She says as Mj turns on the Led lights and Dru messes with the tv controls.
“Thanks, don’t mind the cat hair.” You mumble as you place the cat bowl on the ground making Achilles jump down and begin eating.
“There’s lots of it, everywhere.” You say brushing some off your hands and watching it fall to the floor. You would have to clean it up later.
You walk past her and place your phone on the counter where Dru and Mj’s sat before making your way into the living room.
She couldn’t help but smile at your lack of need for social media, all of you. Yeah, you posted a lot but other than that you all seemed to actually talk and enjoy each others presence rather than be hunched over on your phones.
She hesitates for a moment before placing her own phone on the counter and following you into the living and taking a seat next to you on the couch.
You had het a controller and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.
“Don’t worry,” you say pressing the power button on hers then yours. “I’ll teach you and make sure Dru doesn’t try anything.” You say as you scoot toward her a little more so your knees are touching. You couldn’t tell if she could hear your heart beating in your chest or not but you hoped she couldn’t.
The door suddenly slams open making you all look up to see a partially wet Lyle as water begins squirting inside the apartment.
“You can’t hide forever, Lyle Lyle crocodile!” A voice calls as he slams to the door shut and a chorus of high pitched laughs rings outside your door.
“I’m crashing here tonight.” He says as he storms toward your room. Now you see why all of your clothes were mixed with the groups, you all had different articles of clothes littered around your rooms and at this point you didn’t know what belongs to who.
“We’re starting the game without him.” Dru says as the starting screen pops up and all four of your characters pop up divided into four parts of the tv. This should be fun.
————
And fun it was. For you and Dru at least, while Lyle watched Mj attack different players you were helping Jenna at her own base and protecting her from Dru who swore he would get her ‘stupid pink’ bed.
A rivalry began between the two as Jenna got used to the game she would insist on going after Dru many times. With your help she of course did get him, it was truly beautiful.
Now you sat next to Jenna as the game came to an end, Lyle and Mj had fallen asleep, while Dru was taking pictures of the screen to flaunt to everyone on his discord about how he had gotten first place in the tournament.
You look to Jenna who watched Dru with a small smile on her face and you found yourself wondering how many freckles really did litter across her smooth skin. Her features were absolutely perfect, from her nose, to her eyes and to her high cheek bones. You didn’t really see any flaws as your eyes travel to her lips, curled up into a smile.
Your eyes snap up as she looks toward you, smile becoming softer before an idea comes to mind. You gesture toward the window that led onto your fire escape watching confusion fill her face.
You laugh lightly before grabbing her wrist and leading her toward the window before pulling it open and stepping out only to be met with the cold air of the winter night and slide yourself to sit on the edge of the fire escape.
Jenna’s not to far behind as she steps out after you as she swings her legs over the ledge.
“Not bad for your first try at bed wars.” You say as you lean back against your arms and look toward her.
“Who said it was my first time?” Raising an eyebrow she turns her head toward and smirks lightly.
“Yeah, let’s just forget how you were walking off the edges of your island non stop.” She sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes but her smile never leaves as she stares you. “Totally not your first time.”
She chuckles lightly as she glances around and looks at the city while your eyes never leave her. With the wind blowing past her, she looks almost ethereal, would have if she didn’t shiver lightly before settling back down.
The sound of cars honking, metal clanking together and other sounds you were used to sound through the air, creating a back ground noise for you as you watch her. The way her breathing was calm, much calmer than yours. The way she watched the loud city before, bright colors shining on her face making it light it up completely giving you full view of her side profile.
“It’s beautiful.” She says looking at the lit up city you were not really worried about at the moment as you continued to stare at her.
“Yeah, it is.” You reply quietly and she slowly takes her eyes from the glowing city before they land on you.
You both sat there for a moment, staring at each other unsure of what to do or what the other might do. The air felt two times thicker as you attempted to get your breathing and heart beat under control as her eyes stay locked with yours.
You watched as her eyes snap down once before quickly moving back up to your eyes and you can’t help the twist that form in your stomach tempted to do the same as you glance between both of her eyes, they were darker than they usually were in the light.
You break slightly as you too glance down before quickly looking back up and you lean in, slowly and hesitantly as you watch her every reaction carefully.
She seems to subconsciously do the same, but this time her eyes continue to move from your eye and back down to your lips.
Your nerves boost through the roof as you get closer, heart beat beating quicker than it ever has and suddenly a line of chords begins to play. You recognized it, the way they sounded far too beautiful to be just anyone playing.
The sound quickly becomes a background noise along with the sounds of the city as you come close to Jenna, lips a few centimeters apart as you glance down toward them them back to her eyes to search for any hesitation or want to back out.
Her breath fans over your face lightly as she stares up at you, eyes wide and waiting as she watches you.
“Is this okay?” You ask in a quiet voice, too quiet for your liking as your heart beat drums through your ears, eyes looking over Jenna’s face. There was no need to ask to kiss her, she could clearly see what you were doing but you wanted to make sure this is what she wanted.
And it was in fact what she wanted. The thought of your slightly chapped lips kissing hers made her heart jump into her throat and claw its way out.
Her only response is reaching up and leaning in, her hands resting gently on her face as her lips brush against yours with hesitation. The feeling sends a shock through your body that makes you shiver lightly as her skin begins to feel hot against yours.
You let out a shaky breath as you too lean in, lips crashing against her a bit too eagerly but she doesn’t seem as she leans in further, deepening the kiss completely as her body presses against yours.
You suddenly become all to aware of your surroundings, the sounds of the city filling your senses as does the gentle guitar that plays under you.
Now you recognize it. Frank Sark. Which song exactly? You didn’t know but you knew it was being played by Julian. His music just as sweet as the girl in front of you. Holding your face with a gentleness of an angel that you didn’t deserve but she still gave it to you as her thumb rubs across your cheek lightly.
This was the perfect end of your night under the starless sky in the bright city.
Next part here!
A/N: my mistake was that I kept saying ‘your cat’ and my friend was making jokes 🥲
Also bare with me, I don’t know how to write people kissing much, I’ll probably edit it later.
I’m not sure if the kissing scene even made sense please tell me if it did🫶🏻
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steddielations · 2 years
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Based on this fanart!
Eddie gets into Steve’s interests too.
Steve doesn’t have many hobbies apart from babysitting and sports, but over the years, he’s come to love being outside. That’s how he found skull rock, wandering in the woods for hours. It clears his mind, getting away from everything. He likes to run too and get his heart pumping, work out his stress.
Eddie was never one for the outdoors, he prefers to be holed up in his room playing guitar, planning campaigns, reading, watching movies and stuff. But he decides to give the “outside thing” a chance because Steve has always been so great about trying Eddie’s interests, so Eddie wants to do the same for him, and agrees to go on a hike together.
“I can’t believe this is your idea of romance,” Eddie groans, slapping a mosquito off his arm.
“Hey, I never said it was romantic,” Steve shrugs, he looks so put together with his sunglasses and fancy running shoes, while Eddie’s a mess after only a couple hours of hiking. God, if Eddie didn’t love him so much, he’d hate him.
“It was implied when you asked me on a date to the woods with you,” Eddie tucks the stray hairs back into his bun, going for casual despite his tired arms feeling like jelly, “You know, if you wanted to see me all hot and sweaty, there’s other, easier, much more pleasurable ways to do it.”
Steve snorts, “This was your idea. You wanted to come.”
“Because I’m a good boyfriend who wants to do the stuff you like with you.”
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, automatically reaching for Eddie’s hands to help him step over a large rock because he’s just so perfect like that, “I do like all the stuff we normally do together.”
“Yeah but it’s always my stuff, and you don’t make fun of it and you like it cause you’re just so damn perfect, and I wanted to do the same for you.”
Except he’s failing miserably, trying to hide how badly he wants it to be over, trying to be as perfect for Steve as Steve is for him.
“Oh.” Steve looks stunned, like he didn’t realize he’s worth such a gesture and it makes Eddie want to shower him with affection until he knows how much he means to him, “Well that’s… sweet of you.”
“Yeah yeah, it’s gonna lose all sentiment if I pass out trying to impress you. How much further? Jesus, how are you not tired at all!”
“Some of us actually participated in gym instead of selling weed under the bleachers,” Steve smirks and Eddie’s heart skips not just from exertion, “We probably should’ve taken a shorter hike for your first time. Maybe we should go back.”
“What? No, y’know the nature thing isn’t so bad once you get passed the bug bites and the sunburn and the muscle aches,” Eddie tries to keep going but Steve comes to a stop in front of him, brows furrowed in concern behind his sunglasses, “I mean, my legs are totally supposed to feel like noodles, right? I’m doing great.”
Steve reaches out, gently brushing Eddie’s sweaty hair off his forehead, “I think you’ve pushed yourself hard enough, baby, your face is beet red, you’re shaking. We’re going back now. Here hop on, I’m carrying you to the car.”
He doesn’t offer any room for argument, kneeling down so Eddie can climb onto his back. As humiliating as it is, Eddie relents because he’s honestly exhausted. He locks his sore arms and legs around Steve, clinging to him, quiet for most of the way, feeling like he ruined the whole thing.
Steve must sense it, because he jokes, “Gotta say, I’m really feeling the romance now.”
Eddie smiles against the warm skin of Steve’s neck, “Shut up, I hate you.”
“No you love me,” he can hear the soft smile in Steve’s words, “You did this for me.”
He shouldn’t sound so amazed by that. As if there’s anything Eddie wouldn’t do for this damn boy.
“And I’ll do it again,” Eddie accentuates his point with a kiss to Steve’s cheek, “And again,” another, “And again until I get better at it.”
Steve chuckles, squeezing Eddie’s thighs teasingly, “You don’t have to, not if you don’t want to.”
“I wanna do everything with you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, means it, “Love you.”
And they do go hiking again, they go on lots more, shorter hikes on cooler days. Steve always brings a backpack with extra water, and snacks and bug spray and sunscreen and whatever else Eddie might need to stay comfortable.
Which, Eddie insists that Steve needs those things too. It sort of pangs his chest every time Steve only seems to remember his own needs as an afterthought, but it’s okay, they take care of each other.
Eddie finds that he doesn’t mind “the outside” so much when he’s with Steve. On every hike, he’ll pick up a cool rock or a shiny chunk of minerals and give it to Steve, who always says “oh nice, thanks, babe” and shoves it in his pocket.
Sometimes they see animals and name them after rockstars or Steve’s favorite basketball players. Sometimes they talk a lot, other times they’re more quiet, just holding hands as they tread through the leaves together.
Eddie’s favorite hikes are the ones right at dusk. They have a spot high up in the woods that no one else would ever be able to find, with the best view of the sunset over Lover’s Lake. They always sit and watch the colors melt into the water, Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s shoulder, smiling softly with Eddie’s arm around him.
It’s their spot, it’s their place to be alone together, it’s another one of their things and Eddie loves it, he loves everything with Steve.
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avelera · 5 months
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Thinking about the lovely “New Inn Through the Ages” post by @virgo-dream in terms of alternatives to the popular “Hob built the New Inn for Dream after the missed 1989 meeting” headcanon.
- Quick disclaimer, this headcanon always mildly (and irrationally, this is fandom after all) irked me because to my pedantic, archaeology-obsessed ass, the New Inn was obviously visually at least 200 years old just based on the brick work so “built” never really worked, at most Hob could have purchased or renovated it if it was in response to 1989. To some that’s splitting hairs but what can I say, I never pretended to be rational about dumb history stuff.
- THAT SAID, it would be kind of interesting if Hob does own the New Inn but not necessarily since 1989, but even earlier. It could even be interesting for him to have built the New Inn in truth but back in the 1700s when the building was actually built.
- Hob appears not just comfortable at the White Horse in its 1889 but at the very least a regular. He recognizes Lou on sight and names her immediately, he knows her nickname at the establishment. This familiarity doesn’t track if this is his first time at the White Horse since 1789.
- After 1689, Hob appears to have opted to buy out a private room for them for their discussion, perhaps in response to his return in fortunes but also perhaps based on the memory of being nearly thrown out in 1689 and interrupted by Shaxberd in 1589. The guy is learning how to better manage their encounters. So it stands to reason that after they were interrupted by Constantine in 1789 as a result of her paying off the proprietor, that Hob would simply buy out the inn for 1889.
- Hob owning the White Horse in 1889 actually rather tracks with his familiarity with Lushing Lou and the fact that he’s so at ease there and clearly arrived well before Dream. He speaks to Lou with authority and is dressed with signs of at least middle class prosperity. Being the owner of the White Horse tracks with that level of prosperity shown, nothing flashy, after all it’s in a bad part of town these days.
- Thing is, Hob has a mind for business as we see in numerous instances at the centennial meetings. As a result, to me, it wholly tracks that he wouldn’t stop at buying the White Horse, he’d also purchase a few neighboring taverns and inns once he got a hang of the business. (Consolidation of neighborhood pubs under mega corporation ownership in the 1990s is its own interesting side note on this because again, I’m a history nerd.) The New Inn is presented as so close to the White Horse that a graffiti arrow is enough to point it out. That’s very close indeed.
- SO, I think from this it’s reasonable to say that Hob could very well have owned the New Inn as part of one of his business ventures since the 19th century or earlier, perhaps even as a result of the 1789 meeting and “Finding another pub”, perhaps even building the New Inn then in truth either before or after the meeting as an alternative in case another lunatic Constantine shows up. It’s so close by he might have hoped he could persuade Dream with its proximity.
- Right then, if that’s true, why can’t Hob save the White Horse?
- Perhaps after 1889 he simply sold his ownership stake in it. Heartbroken and angry at himself, especially if he’d provided all these contingencies like the New Inn in case of interruptions or other disasters, he might have just felt as much like a fool as in 1589 when he tried to provide a fine meal. Probably best to just give up and stop trying to control matters, since look where that got him.
- So he sells the White Horse. But the other inns don’t have the same emotional stake and business is business, so he sets those up with a “family trust” to keep running, lending the building out to different managers, etc. and simply carries on.
- Cue his look of devastation in 1989 upon learning the White Horse is going to shut down. If he once owned it, it might be a particular gut punch to know he could have prevented this if he hadn’t let his bitterness get the better of him. Despite his best efforts, he can’t prevent it from being condemned.
- LUCKILY he still had his own business interests nearby in the form of those pubs he built or bought centuries ago. He dusts off his paperwork around the New Inn and reassumes direct management (or at least, his nephew does in a few years). The 1789 “nearby pub” contingency might just pay off in the 21st century, who knows? And it worked!
And there you have it. My take on how Hob could have built the New Inn starting from its actual original construction. Very fun to consider too when you check out Virgo’s post and discover that a Mr. Hobert did indeed own it at one point ;)
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literary-illuminati · 4 months
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Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis
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I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.
Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).
So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).
Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).
There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.
The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.
I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.
Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.
Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.
Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!
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