#It's like watching TV shows before cellphones are a thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 1 year

Text

the nerve.

virgin!eddie x reader, semi-modern AU, it's the very early 2000s (early enough that the phantom menace would have already come out in 1999, but cellphones weren't really a thing yet.) i feel like we've been on a toxic!eddie train for a little so here's a little love drunk baby boy (in his late 20s) whose been about you for ages but the timing wasn't right. now you're together and it's time, but he's real nervous. this fic is mostly from eddie's point of view, so, hopefully you bitches like that. super fluffy, smutty, sweet. cute. tooth rotting even. warnings: smut, minors dni. couples first time, virgin!eddie, p in v, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving).

Eddie's hands are sweating when he pulls up to your house. A small little one bedroom he's been in so many times before -- cozy and soft, like you. You never have the overhead lights on, except for in the kitchen. Always opting for something warm and glowly, decorative. You told him a story once about how women used to put pink lightbulbs in their house so they'd look younger and he never forgot it, so now he tells people that story and says he learned it from you.

You hadn't been dating long, but he feels like he's been with you forever. You come so naturally to him -- years of friendship will do that to a person, he guesses. Spending those years watching you be with someone else, someone he didn't really know very well -- different town, someone you used to know in college with Nancy. When you showed up to Steve's after the break-up he was almost relieved but he felt awful about it. Feeling giddy while you cried into Nancy's shoulder and Robin rubbed your back. You thought you were gonna marry that guy -- how?! He didn't even like your favorite movie! He didn't even know how you liked your pancakes! Or how you lie about what your favorite song is depending on who you're with! (It's a tie between Nina Simone's 'New Day' and The Beatles' 'Blackbird' in case anyone was wondering.)

Getting here, coming to your house for dinner dates, taking you out, holding your hand, that was an easier task than what was to come. But it wasn't an easy road to get here for him either. He wasn't really great at the whole girls thing.

It's why he was was still blushy and nervous the night you came over to Steve's for a movie night. You all got snowed in. He knew you liked him and you knew he liked you but you weren't sure if you 'like' liked each other -- you'd never said. Neither of you had.

He stopped breathing when you'd sat next to him, sinking into the cushions of Steve's large L-shaped sectional with your knees brushing. Steve casting glances over at Eddie to implement at least one trick he taught him to get close to you. 'If she doesn't do it back then you know it's not happening, it's that easy.' It's that easy? He'd rather die than make a move and have you not be into it.

You were half way through The Empire Strikes Back when he noticed Steve knock Robin on the knee with his. Robin looked over at the two of you, knees and shoulders touching, hands to yourselves. Her lips curled into a mischevious smile when she realized what her partner in crime was asking from her.

"Hey," she whispered over to you, offering you a peach ring from the bag, "Want one?"

"Ooh, thank you," you whispered back. 'They're my favorite.' He thinks it as you say it to her, he knows they're your favorite, that's why he always picks them up at the gas station before he shows up to these things. The crinkling of the bag gets Nancy's attention and she casts a glance up at Steve from where she's settled in the crook of his arm. They share knowing looks, shaking her head while her attention goes back to the screen.

"You want one, Ed?" she asks, except this time her hand is much farther away, resting on the back of the couch so that he'll have to reach behind you to get one. Eddie looks at her, eyes begging, 'you're kidding'. Her eyes glint back in the glow of the TV, 'I'm not kidding.'

"Yeah, sure," he says shakily, reaching across the back of the couch. If you know what he's doing, you're not letting on and that's fine with him. He grabs the candy, popping it in his mouth and letting his arm rest behind you at first -- heart pounding while he moves it downward enough so that you can feel him drape himself around you. He can't look at you at all while he does it, terrified that you might be disgusted by him even attempting to be close to you.

He swallows when you turn to him, your knees pressing up to his thigh when you shift your hips towards him, feet tucking up onto the couch. Eddie turns slowly to see you looking up from his shoulder, eyes shining with a smile.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," you say back in a whisper, inching your face a little closer to him, "Can you tell me what's happening?"

He lets out an airy chuckle through his nose, "I always forget you haven't seen these, sorry we started with the second one."

"So, right now," he starts, pointing at the screen, "Harrison Ford's character--"

"Anakin," you say, certain of your answer.

"No," Eddie laughs.

"Qui-gon Jinn," you offer, as a new answer. "Oh my fucking God," he laughs, running a hand over his face in disbelief. He looks at you, toothy grin and all, "You don't know who Harrison Ford's character is, but you know the name Qui-gon Jinn?"

"It's very memorable," you say softly, laughing at yourself. He loves that about you -- you're very confidently wrong sometimes.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "That's like, in the newer movies -- he's not even in the ones from the 80s."

"Oh -- is it Obi-wan?" you ask, "Or Luke?"

"You know you're the assistant editor for the Culture section, right?" he asks, his face inching closer to yours, "How do you not know about film culture?"

"More like nerd culture," you huff back, rolling your eyes. When you turn your attention back to the screen he feels you settle into the crook of his waist, scooching yourself closer to him. His hand falls to your shoulder, unsure if he should hold you the way Steve holds Nancy -- arm wrapped around with a hand resting on her hip. That might be better for another day when he was feeling more confident.

Your head finds a home on his shoulder and part of his chest, your hair smells like Herbal Essences and he only knows that because he started buying it recently. He holds his breath for a moment while you get comfortable against him. Eddie eases himself against you, hand around your bicep to pull you in closer.

"Harrison Ford is Han Solo," he says to the top of your head.

"No, he's Obi-wan," you mutter defiantly, brushing off his answer.

"Sure," he laughs, "You're right, he's Obi-wan."

He kissed you in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed and you both stayed up talking over a six pack. You tasted like peach rings.

Once he parks in the drive way he gives himself a mini peptalk all the way to your door. It's not like it was your first date, which he'll admit went really well, but this was the date. You both felt it. With every kiss getting more feverish, every makeout getting more and more hot and heavy, every wandering hand and mouth -- he was gonna have sex with you tonight.

Which would have been fine.

If he wasn't a virgin.

He'd gone over and over it again with Steve. Tips, help, tricks, reassurance -- but all of it made him feel even more inexperienced. It took him three years to graduate high school and he wasn't exactly the most popular guy there. No one caught his eye when he threw himself into work at the auto-shop, even less at the craft store full of old ladies, and even less at the comic book shop where all he was, was surrounded by other vigrins who were ten years younger than him.

He was always too nervous to talk to girls at The Hideout or other bars his band played at. They were almost always more into Jeff and Gareth anyway. Smooth talking, suave, more confident with age -- he felt like he was behind. Regressing, even. More focused on his hobbies, his friendships, more focused on you. How you'd talk about work and whether you wanted to move closer to the city. How you'd hang out at the bar with him after a gig and listen with bright eyes while he told you what was coming next for the band. How you'd ask about the next campaign for the store's D&D club. Even if you didn't get it, you at least tried. Anakin, Obi-wan, Qui-gon Jinn.

He knocks and rings the bell, he can hear the thump! of Brutus, your old gray cat, jumping from the couch down to the floor getting ready to greet him. You appear, flushed and smiley, some of your hair stuck to your cheeks with sweat.

"Hi, sorry, the kitchen's kind of hot -- didn't get a chance to y'know -- get my shit together," you say, while the door opens. He swears his heart is going to come out of his mouth out of these days with how it rises in his throat when he sees you.

"You look pretty," he says, shrugging off his jacket when he steps inside. You press a kiss to his cheek but it's not enough. With his coat still in his hand he catches you with the free one, stopping you before you head back to the kitchen, to kiss your lips.

"Hi, baby," he says quietly. You grin, eyes downcast to the floor.

"Hi."

"How was work today?" he asks, finally stepping away to hang up his coat in your closet by the door. Brutus follows him with scraggly 'meows' and 'rahhs', weaving through his boots to get his attention.

"Work was worky. Nancy's bummed she didn't get that promotion but she'll be alright," you scrunch your nose in sympathy for Nance, drying your hands off on your jeans.

"She's got bigger things going for her anyway," Ed says, bending down to scratch Brutus behind the ears. The cat nuzzles his hand with a pleased purr, following him who was following you back into the kitchen. He looks at the pots and pans boiling and simmering, the light on in the tiny oven. Your kitchen and little and hasn't been updated since the sixties but you told him you prefer it. 'S'part of my charm,' you'd say. He thought all of you was charming.

"This is a lot, baby -- you didn't have to do all this," he pleads. He hates when you over work yourself, and you do it all the time. 'I just wanna impress you,' he thinks your response as you say it because of course you do.

"Everything you do impresses me," he murmurs, coming up behind you while you massage arugula for a side salad, "But I would've been more impressed if you called a pizza joint and placed an order."

"I can't make a phone call," you laugh, "I think it would kill me. I think I'd have a heart attack."

"Which is why I'm saying it would've been more impressive if you ordered a pizza," he says into your hair, leaning his head on your shoulder, "What can I do to make this easier for you?"

"Will you just set the table for me?"

Dinner was delicious. You made it for him, so of course it was. He likes this, snuggling on the couch, laying long ways, Eddie's head on your chest with your hands gliding through his waves. His eyes are fluttering closed and open again while the graze of your nails glides over his scalp. He totally gets why Brutus begs for scratches behind the ears -- this must be exactly what it feels like.

The hum of 'If I Only Had A Brain' leaks out of the TV speakers. This was culture you knew -- you'd seen The Wizard of Oz a hundred times over. He knows it's not your favorite movie, but it's up there, it's close. Your favorite movie is Grease and you don't lie about that to anyone. You got John Travolta's autograph once and framed it when you were little, he remembers you telling him that when you were drunk at karaoke. You sang 'Hopelessly Devoted'.

Then you made him come up and sing Summer Nights with you. He wished he would've kissed you then, but you had a few drinks and he thought maybe you were just feeling flirty. That you didn't like him like that. You wanted to kiss him when he hit the end high note, it still makes your heart race a little when you think about it.

"This is so you," you say, the sleepy hum of your voice vibrates against his ear. He furrows his brow and looks up at you.

"Excuse me? If I only had a brain?" he inquires, hand crawling up to press against your face in a fake smack, "That's mean."

You laugh, it's a sound he wants to be the one to cause for the long haul, "I don't mean you don't have a brain, I mean like -- look at him move. He's such a goofball -- you're like that, you're goofy."

He rolls his eyes, "Okay."

"In a good way!" you argue playfully.

"Oh look, it's you," he teases when the Wicked Witch appears on screen with her green hands and sneering glare.

"Did you know that she actually --"

"Couldn't use her hands to eat or drink whenever she had the makeup on because it was toxic?" he finishes, shifting his body so he was caging you in under him. He uses his free arm to nudge you onto your back, both of your faces hidden by his sheets of dark hair, "You told me."

"Oh," you blush, "Sorry. I always forget who I tell my little facts to."

"No, it's okay," he says softly, leaning down to kiss you, "It's very cute."

"You're very cute," you say back when his lips break away.

"Stop," he says with a giggle. Always so boyish when he doesn't mean to be.

He lets out a sharp exhale through his nose when you lean up to kiss him again. The kiss is chaste and sweet, your legs parting so he can comfortably slot himself between them. He's come to learn how much you like that type of friction and closeness. You like loosely wrapping your legs around him -- it's a thought he has often when he's home alone and thinking about you.

You deepen the kiss, hands finding his hair, tongue snaking into his mouth. Somewhere deep in his belly comes a growl, hips pressing up against yours eagerly. The softest, 'mm!' squeaks out of you at the pressure and he can feel the gentle roll of your hips against him. His heart hammers in his chest -- oh fuck, we're gonna actually do it.

Eddie's eyes flick up to see Brutus on the lounge chair looking at him. He looks back at Brutus, green eyes shining into his brown ones -- it feels...judgemental.

"Could we maybe go somewhere that Brute can't see this? I feel like the spirit of your dad is inside him," Eddie asks, still keeping his eyes on the cat.

You let out an airy laugh through your nose, "Yeah, sure, c'mon."

Your room smells like you, so do your sheets, your pillows. He loved being engulfed like this, he didn't think he could be any more in love with a person.

You follow him in and watch him sit on the bed, eager faced and flushed. He gulps when you take your jeans off, followed by your sweatshirt and socks.

"I just wanted you to see -- surprise!" you cheer quietly, looking back at him. The set was burgundy, made of satin, shiny. Slightly frilled on the ends. Underwear cut high and perfectly laid over the curve of your ass. The cups of the bra in that old timey balconette cut. You bought it on purpose, you bought it for him.

"Oh fuck," he mutters to himself.

"I didn't know if you'd like black or red more so I sorta," you shrug, "Met them in the middle."

"I don't care what color it is," he breathes out, eyes glassy and blown, mouth completely dry. How could you talk so casually to him when you look like this? How could you act like this wasn't a really big fucking deal to have worn a set for him to see? With him in mind? Like, you thought about him while you bought this? His jeans feel tighter by the second. He leans back on his hands on your bed to take you in, "You look -- insane."

"In the good way," he quickly follows up.

"You like it?" you smile.

"I really like it," he nods, gulping again, begging his voice not to crack, "C'mere, let me look at you up close."

He watches you approach him and sits up slowly, hands coming out to caress you. He puts his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbs dragging over the fabric of the bra, drifting down to your hips where he leans forward to kiss the side of your tummy, another by your ribcage, a third on your sternum. He looks up at you afterwards, awaiting your lips when you lean down to kiss him.

"You're so pretty, baby," he mumbles against your lips, "You're beautiful."

He swallows when you get him on his back, biting his lip when you straddle him over his jeans. You take your hair down, he blinks hard to make sure he's not dreaming -- that you're really on top of him, really in lingerie, really looking like that.

"Shouldn't um -- shouldn't I be on top of you?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" you ask with a giggle, "You don't want me to be on top?"

"It's just, like," he sighs, letting his hands rest on the outsides of your thick thighs, "Aren't I supposed to be in charge?"

"You're not supposed to be anything, Ed," you reason, pawing up his chest until you were flat against him. You kiss him but he stays rigid, his mouth rubbery and unmoving.

"You okay?" you ask, his chest pangs.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shaking his head. He racks his brain for anything Steve might've told him, any porn he might've watched. Sure girls were on top but like, they didn't like that did they? Didn't they like being thrown around? Slammed? Fucked? What do you like? Shit, how was he supposed to figure this out? Especially with you grinding your hips like that, slow and teasing -- fuck.

You tug at his shirt and he uses the moment to pull it off, scooching you off him to take off his jeans. Regular, clean, tartan boxers. He wished he'd worn something sexier -- like boxer briefs or something -- something that didn't look so ridiculous with a hard on.

"So we're doing this, right?" he asks, climbing back on the bed and laying you down on the mattress.

"Only if you want to," you smile at him, reaching behind you to snap the bra off throwing it on the floor. All the light in the room was from a single three wick candle on your dresser on the back wall but even then he could see the curves of your chest. The shape of your body under him. Your head hits your pillow and he sighs, using one arm to steady him and the other to glide over you, from your cheek, down your neck, landing on the swell of your breast.

"You're so perfect," he says softly, eyes lingering where his hand was resting. He kneads it gently and smiles when it earns him a small gasp. Your legs part again and he uses his knees to part them further.

You look up at him, a little confused, but part your legs further anyway. He sits up, leaning back to take your arms and pin them against your chest, falling back into his previous position. He kisses roughly, you oblige but it doesn't feel like him.

He bites at your lower lip, hard enough that you let out a whine but he takes it as the go ahead. He lets his mouth wander, nipping down your neck in harsh love bites with nothing to follow up to soothe them. His hand snakes into your hair with a sharp tug.

"Ow," you whisper, but he doesn't hear it. Too busy trying to make sense of this in his head. Is he supposed to lick a stripe up your neck before or after he bites? Is it supposed to be closer to your jaw? Where did he even see this? This would be easier if he wasn't achingly hard.

“Hey, hey, stop — stop,” you say sternly. Eddie recoils immediately, sitting back on his heels and shrinking into himself with a deep blush you can’t see in the low light. His eyes sting with embarrassed tears, adams apple bobbing while he tries to swallow them down. His heart is beating so hard he think it might shoot directly out of his chest. And how awful would that be? First he ruins sex and then he just bleeds all over you?

“What’s going on?” you ask, pulling your blanket up from the end of your bed.

“I just — I’m doing what I thought you might like?” his voice his tight, like he’s holding back a cry, “Am I not doing it right?”

“Ed, I just want you to be yourself,” you sigh. You reach out to him but he slinks away before you can, "You're like, trying to be the DM version of you right now."

"Yeah but he's like, hot and confident," Ed shrugs, "I'm just...Eddie Munson, resident virgin."

"I wanna fuck Eddie Munson, resident virgin," you state plainly. His cock twitches, he thought he might even cum from hearing you say that.

"And you won't know what I like unless you ask me, don't just guess," you instruct softly. He let's you reach back out and touch him, pulling him down to lay next to you. His hand skates over your tummy and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close. The smell of your perfume and shampoo engulfs him instantly -- his brain had to be shutting down at this point.

"This is all about communicating," you assure, "Do you think you like it rough like that? Like how you were doing to me?"

"Um, I don't know," he lies, because he does like that. He thinks he likes doing it and he thinks he'd like it being done to him.

"I like it," you confessed, "Just not right now."

"Oh," he blushes, "You like when I'm rough? Just not all the time?"

"Exactly," you smile.

"So what do you like tonight?" he asks awkwardly, "Or what would you like tonight?"

"Soft," you say, pressing a kiss next to his lips, "And gentle."

You kiss him again, on the lips this time, "You."

With a newfound approach he leans in to kiss you, this he knows he’s good at because Steve overheard you tell Nancy that you ‘never got so wet from making out before’ and that it ‘made you feel like you were in high school again’. He gasps when you break away to kiss his jaw down to his neck, his hand traveling up to get entangled in your hair.

"I really like when you kiss me there," he pants out, eyes rolling when you reach a spot on his neck right above his collar bone, "Fuck."

"There?" you grin against his skin, letting your tongue run over it again before sucking on the spot eagerly.

"Fuck, yeah there," he whines, hips bucking against your thigh. You maneuver him again, crawling on top of him and he succumbs to letting you take the lead. Your hips do that deliciously evil grind over him again, and he can feel how dampened your panties are over his boxers. Each drag of your hips pulls his skin over the head of his cock, sending him hurtling closer to cumming than he anticipated. He reaches feverishly for your hips, holding you to a stop.

"Too much?" you ask. Fuck, why are you so cute?

"A little," he confesses, breaths getting heavy, hips twitching.

"Sorry, I just...I'm really horny," you whisper with a giggle, covering your face with your hand like a visor. He giggles back, shimmying down so your heat was directly over him.

"We can...you know," he says, reaching up to move your hand and place it on his chest, "We can do it."

"You sure?" you ask again.

"I'm sure," he assures, heart still thumping with nerves. He watches you lean over him, breasts directly in his face, knocking his nose, while you fish in your beside table for a condom.

"I brought some, they're in my --"

"Too late," you say, gold foil packet in hand, offering it to him while you sit back between his legs.

"You're too confident in me," he says at the sight of the Magnum XL wrapper.

"I promise I'm not," you laugh, "I've seen a lot of dicks."

You both pause.

"I mean...you...fuck, you know what I mean," you smack your hand to your forehead, "Let me shut the fuck up really quick."

He takes the condom from you and tugs down his boxers slowly, while you help him take them the rest of the way down. He sighs while he reaches down to pump himself a few times before slipping on the latex. He catches your eyes round out when you see it, your soft swallow of the saliva pooling in your mouth.

Maybe you weren't too confident in him.

It was a little tight, if he was being honest.

"I'm gonna be on top, okay?" you ask. He nods, looking at you while you slide off your underwear, nerves building in his throat. Adrenaline coursed through him like he just did a line, like he just played a show. Like you just kissed in Steve Harrington's kitchen. Like when you tasted like peach rings.

You kiss him while you get back over him, sliding over his length with your lips. Your thighs twitch when the rigidness of the underside of his cock runs over your clit.

"Ooh, fuck yes," you mutter to yourself, face crumpling with pleasure.

"That's good? You like that?" he asks, hands resting on your hips while you continue toying with yourself over him. You nod, knowing you're wet enough to take him without foreplay, which will be a different conversation for a different day.

He squirms when you take his cock by the base, guiding the tip to your entrance. "Oh, fuck, fuuuuck me," he gasps while you start sinking down on him, "Jesus fucking Christ. Shit."

He watches you sink all the way down to the base, bodies meeting again. He feels you press your weight on your hands on his chest, eyes rolling when you adjust your hips, walls tightening over him.

"Baby, I -- you're -- Jesus," he gasps, a soft groan follows suit. "Oh my god, oh my god," he hears you whine, eyes begging when he looks up at you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, nerves overriding his pleasure, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I'm okay," you breathe out, "It's just you, fuck, you feel so good."

"I -- I feel good?" he asks, "I'm making you feel good?"

You nod over him, hips dragging up slowly and then back down, little soft gasps and moans coming out of your mouth when you lean your head back. He watches you in awe, light bursting behind his eyes and sparks going off in his belly while you pick up the pace.

"I'm -- oh my god -- I'm not doing -- shit -- I'm not doing anything," he admits, "How am I -- oh god, oh god --"

You slow down, resolving to grinding your hips slowly to answer him, "You don't have to do anything, you just...you fit like, perfectly in me."

He grabs a pillow and covers his face so you don't see him smiling like an idiot, "Are you saying I have a nice dick?"

You laugh and it sends vibrations down his shaft to his sac, his hips jump involuntarily. He feels you reach for the pillow and he grips it harder.

"C'mon, let me see you," he hears you say, relenting when that soft coaxing tone comes out of your mouth. You tuck the pillow off to the side, still sitting there with him inside of you. He puts his hands on your hips, sliding them down your thighs and then back up again.

He mumbles gently, "Can't believe you're here with me."

"I can," you smile, hips rising and falling again.

"Shit," he gasps, fingers pressing hard into the fat of your hips and back to your ass to steady you. He blanks out his mind, shaking out whatever Steve said, whatever porn he watched, whatever he read online. He lets you keep riding him until he sees stars and on instinct he wraps him arms over your hips to keep you in place and pull you to him.

"Want me to slow down?" you gasp out.

"No," he grins, planting his feet on the mattress. He bucks up into you, once, twice, three times until he gets a steady rythym. You feel like fucking heaven, and you sound like it too.

"Oh fuck, Eddie," you whine out, it's high pitched and needy. He grunts in response, chasing his high while your tits bounce in his face.

"Oh my god, oh fuck that's -- that's so good," you gasp, the end coming out in a yelp. Your nails did into his shoulders and he hisses in response, the pain feels good -- he makes a mental note of that to go back to later.

His thrusts slow as he feels himself getting closer to the edge, taking it away from him as he eases up. He wants this to last forever -- he can't even believe he's lasted this long.

"You good?" you ask, taking his face in your hands. He smiles, it's stupid, pussy-drunk.

"M'good, I'm so good," he says softly, "I wanna be on top now."

"Oh, okay," you chuckle out, "Let me just--"

You raise up off him and he whimpers at the feeling of you leaving. The cold air hitting his cock, his chest -- he feels exposed. You lay back on the mattress, legs open and spread for him while your hand travels down to rub lazily at your clit.

"You can't be serious," he whispers, "That's so hot."

"Me touching myself?" you ask.

"Yeah, you -- shit, you're a like a high preistess or some-something," he says, eyes wide with wonder while your hips squirm. He feels stupid after saying it, mentally scolding himself. You're such a fucking loser, Munson.

"Can you um," he takes a deep breath while he steadies himself between your legs, lining himself up with your opening, "Can you keep doing that while I -- do this?"

"Yeah," you nod, a whimper coming out of you when he pushes in. His body knows what to do but finding a rythym is hard at first. The caveman in him wants to just go for it, jackhammer you until he cums. He starts like that, hard and fast thrusts, grunting and moaning like an animal, hips smacking against the backs of your thighs -- but he can hear Steve in his head.

'Start slow and work your way up, try different angles -- when you feel her like...I don't know -- gush? That's when you know you're hitting it right.' 'Gush?" 'Yeah, gush. You'll know what I mean when you finally do it.'

He takes your legs, pressing them up against your chest -- a position he's definitely seen in porn. But the normal kind. The real couples kind. The kind where they're definitely in love. He readjusts, sliding back into you slowly, he smirks to himself when your eyes roll back, arms falling back to your ears.

Then he feels it.

The gush.

"Ed that feels so good," you whine, tears pricking your eyes, "You're doing so good, baby."

Eddie gasps, cock twitching wildly at the praise. His face gets white hot, biting his lip, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

You catch his reaction, letting yourself get louder for him.

"You're such a good boy, Ed," you coo between moans, "You're so good for me."

"So good," he rasps back, hips starting to snap erratically.

"Oh baby, shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum -- m'gonna fuck -- cum," Eddie grunts out, laying flush against you while he finishes out hard and fast. He groans into your ear while you feel him spasm over you and inside you, riding out his orgasm until he comes to a stop. He takes a shaky breath but he doesn't get up, his chest and shoulders continue to shake, he sniffles.

He's crying.

"Oh, no, Eddie -- baby are you okay? What's wrong?" you ask, running your hand over the back of his head. He lifts up slowly, looking at you and your concerned face, your kiss bitten lips.

It makes him want to cry more, "Oh angel, I'm sorry. I'm not sad I --"

"I just love you so much," he sniffles, laughing at the ridiculousness of this, face already wet with tears, "I love you and I've never like -- felt close to anyone like this before. M'sorry for crying. I know it's stupid --"

"It's not stupid," you smile, pulling him to your chest, "I love you, too."

He laughs again, "Do you think I'm some loser virgin for crying?"

He sighs at the feeling of your nails against his scalp again, his body still so sensitive with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"No," you smile, "Especially not a loser virgin. Since, you know, you're not anymore."

"I guess you're right," he says into your neck.

In the light of the three wick candle on your dresser, you both continued you lay there, naked and wrapped up in each other on your bed. You've switched around, your head on his chest and his hand stroking your hair.

"Do you uh," he starts, "Did you cum?"

You shake your head no, "I didn't, but that's okay."

"No, don't say that," he huffs, "Steve said that girls say 'it's okay' but that it's actually not."

"Psh, you really listen to everything that Steve says?" you argue.

"Well yeah, he's -- you know, he used to get girls before him and Nance were official," he says, "He wouldn't lie to me."

"Well I'm not lying to you either," you say, leaning on your side to look up at him, "It's okay."

He squints down at you, "I don't believe you."

With you on your side, he gets up on his knees again, hands finding your hips to lay them back on the bed.

"What're you doing?"

"I said, I don't believe you," he repeat, leaning down to kiss your stomach, your hip bone, the top of your pubic bone, "So I'm gonna make you cum."

"You're really confident," you say while he opens your legs to get between them.

"You think I can't?" he asks, a small frown falling onto his face.

"No, I'm sure you can," you urge, "I'm just saying, you sound really confident."

"It's sexy."

"Sexy?" he asks with a grin, kissing the inside of your knee, "I'll take it."

He looks down in the low light, your pussy still slick and glistening, still slightly puffy from earlier. No wonder guys ventured down here so often -- you looked delicious.

His fingers graze your inner thighs, making you shiver. His eyes meet yours, a devilish smirk dancing over his features, "Do you like that?"

"M'just excited," you blush, grabbing the pillow from earlier to cover your face. Eddie gets to work, laying down on his stomach, letting his lips slip and slide against your inner thighs before licking a thick flat stripe up through your lips. Your whine is loud enough to leak past the pillow, your hips grind slowly up against his mouth.

This was a skill he felt good about. He'd only done it once before a couple years ago during a really drunk hook up in the city, but he definitely didn't hear any complaints. And he figured, if he was a good kisser he had to be good at like...kissing pussy? That's how he thought about it at least.

His tongue traveled wherever he could let it go. Into your opening, against your lips, up and over the hood of your clit. He listened to your breathing, how your hips would react, the tensing in your thighs, trying to see where you liked it the best.

"Up a little higher," you instruct, pillow discarded, leaning on your forearms to look down at him. Your eyes meet and he melts, nodding while he moves up, waiting for your okay. He reaches up, the gods of cunnilingus speaking to him while he does, and pulls back the hood of your clit to lave his tongue over it.

"Ohmygod," you whisper out, head falling back on its hinge, "Don't stop."

"That's really hot," he croaks out to himself, looking at the expanse of your body above him, your exposed neck. He didn't mean to say it out loud. Fucking christ, he sounds like a teenager. He busies his mouth so he stops talking, sucking gently over you while your hips grind in time with his work.

"You can -- mm -- you can use your fingers, too," you tell him while your hand comes down to entwine in his hair. Eddie's eyes flutter closed, the gentle tug when you hit the right spots sends him reeling. His other hand comes up, tongue still flicking in alternating rhythms over your clit. He lets one finger slide in without resistence and then another -- Steve always said something about using two, but he doesn't remember, he just remembers 'curl upwards'. He pumps slow at first, your moans are getting to him, the sound hitting him right in his pelvis. The tightness of your walls around his fingers feels just as good as it was around his cock.

"Oh just like that, just like that, fuck," you gasp out. The praise sends him into a frenzy, hooking his fingers up to feel a different texture than before -- spongey, rigid.

But that's what it happens -- more than a gush. A flood, all over his fingers while your walls clench down hard on him. Hips rising off the mattress while you cum for him, whimpers and whines pouring out of your mouth.

"Easy, baby, easy," he giggles, free hand gripping your hip to ease it back down, "I got you."

You steady your breathing on the bed, feeling him detach from you, pressing soft kisses back up your tummy to your chest.

"You okay?" he asks gently.

"How," you breathe in, and out, "Did you get so good at that?"

He shrugs, "I dunno, just sort of winged it. Was I really that good?"

"You were really that good," you nod, "I came really hard."

"Fuck yeah," he nods to himself, still not realizing that he's thinking out loud, "Sick."

"Sorry," he says with an embarrassed shake of his head. You sit up, pecking him on the lips in a silent 'I love you,' and go to your dresser to throw on some pajamas. He reaches down off the bed to slide on his boxers, pulling his shirt over his head. You meet in the middle of the room and he can't help but hold you to him, feeling closer to you than he ever has. Magnetized, like you're meant to be touching at all times.

"I made brownies," you say, "They're already sliced up and in the microwave. Figured we wouldn't have time to get to dessert, so -- I prepped ahead of time."

"Is it lame to say I already had dessert?" he asks, a boyish grin showing off his teeth.

"Yes," you reply with a smile, "It is."

"Do you wanna watch Grease with me?" you ask while you walk to the door, warm light pooling into the room as you open it.

"Are you gonna say every line as it's being said like you always do?" he responds, following you out of the room, trying not to trip on Brutus who is scurrying past his feet to sleep on your bed.

"Of course I am," you say confidently, going to the kitchen to take out the plate of covered brownies in the microwave above the fridge. He takes them from you, placing them on the counter while he grabs two small plates from the cupboard above your head.

"Then I absolutely want to watch it with you," he smiles, a genuine full smile. Steve is gonna lose his fucking mind when he tells him.

Eddie Munson, resident virgin loverboy.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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random-imagines-blog · 7 months

Text

Ambulances {Robert Downey Jr x Teen!Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3483 Summary: Being the youngest actor on the MCU is a dream come true - but why doesn't you feel as good as you should? Notes: Talks about depression.

This was meant to be everything that you ever wanted. The chance to work on one of the biggest franchises the world had ever seen. Appearing in a huge movie, and then getting the chance to star in a television show afterwards, all about your character. Possibly more movie appearances. Getting paid so handsomely that if you were careful, you wouldn’t ever go into debt. Rubbing elbows with some of the biggest and brightest stars in the world. Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch. And you weren’t even out of high school yet. You were supposed to be living the dream.

Then why did it feel like it was spiraling down into one of those nights where you don’t remember your dreams? It wasn’t a nightmare. There were negatives but nothing that you didn’t expect going into the acting profession. You didn’t hate your job. You didn’t hate your character. You just - started to feel nonchalant about the whole thing. Nothing at all. It started off with not feeling as excited as you used to when you woke up in your trailer to go to set. You were tired and had to drag yourself out of bed to go to hair and make-up.

Robert was getting his done, his iconic Tony Stark facial hair being trimmed and shaved perfectly. You muttered a good morning before taking your seat, and one of the makeup artists came to work on you.

“Rough night, kid?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think I slept that well,” you said. “Just - couldn’t get out of bed today.”

“That’s called being a teenager,” He chuckled.

“Yeah, probably,” you said, forcing out a chuckle back. You would just chalk this one up to a bad day. Everyone had those. You were able to pep yourself up for your scenes, and work through them without any issues. It was good to focus on something other than yourself for once. Get into the character. Become someone else for a little while. Someone who was mighty, and strong, who got out of bed each morning without trouble - unless they were beat up, which because this was a superhero movie, happened quite often. But you declined going out for dinner with everyone else, just saying that you were tired and headed back to your trailer while they went out to enjoy themselves.

You looked around your trailer once you were inside. It was quiet in there, save for the very faint buzzing of electricity that was powering the lights. You collapsed down on the small couch where you usually went over your lines but - you couldn’t think of what to do. You didn’t feel like doing ... anything. There was your gaming console set up by the tv, a stack of games - but you didn’t feel like playing them. There was Netflix and Amazon Prime and Disney Plus and Hulu - but you didn’t feel like watching anything. There was your laptop, but you didn’t feel like website surfing. So, you just - sat there. Doing nothing. Feeling nothing.

Your phone went off. You could see the name on top. One of your best friends from back home. Someone that you usually loved to talk to. But you just ... didn’t feel much like talking to them. A stab of guilt made its home in your stomach once the screen went dark again, knowing that you should have answered it. There was no reason to ignore them. But you still didn’t move. Just letting this feeling of ‘you should you should you should’ take you over.

You didn’t even remember falling asleep - and you couldn’t remember if you dreamt or not. One minute, you were sitting on your couch, staring blankly ahead of you, not even thinking of anything, and the next, you were still sitting there but there was light coming in through the curtains and your alarm was going off on your cellphone.

You were astounded at yourself. You’d never done this before, never felt this way before. You forced yourself up and into the shower but there too, you didn’t feel like doing much of anything. It all felt so ... tedious and worthless. How many times in your life were you going to waste time, standing here in the shower, washing your hair? How many times were you going to cover your loofa in bodywash and lather yourself up? Doing it all today just to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. It felt so dull.

And when you got out, all squeaky clean and put on a random hoodie and jeans to head out to hair and makeup, yet again, you didn’t feel as good as you usually did. Usually, a shower was just the thing that helped you start the day. You felt good when you were clean. “God, what’s wrong with me?” You muttered to yourself as you went into trailer and took your seat.

This time it was Chris Evans that got there the same time you did, sitting in the opposite chair. “You missed a fun night,” he said, grinning at his phone.

“Oh,” you said, looking straight ahead of you into the mirror. You forced out a laugh that didn’t feel real. “Next time, next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it. They had some of the best tacos that I’ve ever had-” Chris said, turning into an excited puppy as he often did when he found something that he liked. Usually, it was enough to make you cheerful. But you just tuned him out, not having the attention span for this conversation. Or maybe it just wasn’t the energy.

The makeup artists started on you, having to use a bit more concealer than they usually did. “Make sure you get all eight hours,” The artist reminded you.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You forced a chuckle. She covered your dark circles expertly, patting on powder to try to make it look more natural, and then you were out there to get ready for the shot of the day. You had a bit of time until you actually had to be on the set, since you were just coming in at the end of the scene, so you sat down and just ... watched. You didn’t really say anything to anyone. You weren’t in the most sociable mood. You let your mind wander, your body being present, but your mind was far away.

“Hey kid,” A voice snapped you out of it. You blinked a couple of times and looked to see that Robert was sitting right next to you. You hadn’t noticed because you had been so busy thinking about ... you couldn’t even remember. That was more startling than Robert’s voice coming out of nowhere. You had no idea what you had been thinking about.

“Hey,” You nodded, and then looked back out to the set, watching Chris Evans and Scarlett working together on a scene. “I didn’t know you were supposed to be on set today.”

“‘m not, but I got bored so though I’d check it out,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him. Robert Downey Jr was intimidating, not because he was tough or scary, but because of his long career, and how he managed to recover from some pretty drastic dips. “You seem a little glum, chum.”

“No, I’m just ... tired,” you said. It felt like a flimsy excuse, but you didn’t have one that felt better. It must have sounded weak as well, because Robert took off his sunglasses in a very Tony fashion and slipped them into his front pocket.

“Just tired?” He asked. “You coming down with the flu or something?”

“That could be it,” You nodded, clutching onto that idea. Maybe you had just gotten sick. Maybe there was a bug going around. There was always some kind of bug going around. It would explain your increase in listless behavior. You weren’t always the most active person, but you had been able to keep up with Marvel’s standards for their actors, but now that you were finding it harder, the flu made perfect sense. “Yeah, I think it’s just the flu. Better not get too close, huh?”

“I’m not worried, I get my shot every year,” Robert said, casually. “You know - you could come to one of us if something is wrong, right?”

It almost felt like an accusation of sorts. Like he could see right through you. See something that you were having trouble seeing in yourself.

“Yeah, of course, you’re like - the best mentor ever,” You nodded, forcing on another smile. Just the flu, nothing was seriously wrong, it’s not like you could be ... depressed or anything. You didn’t have time to be depressed. You weren’t in the right business to be depressed.

Your name was being called by the director, so you stood up quickly. “Gotta go. Good talk.”

“Yeah, good talk,” Robert said, watching your back as you walked away. He saw something in you that he saw in himself, saw the beginning of something that he had struggled through for a lot of his adult life. And he didn’t want to see you struggle through it, at least not alone. He was going to be keeping an eye on you - two if he could spare them.

It felt like the longest month of your life. It just dragged on, and on. There were at least four times that you had almost quit the movie. Where you brought up your manager’s number on your phone and almost pressed dial because you wanted out of your contract. It didn’t matter how much money you would owe the studio, or that you would be blackballed in Hollywood. Nothing felt like it mattered anymore. Your gaming system and laptop were collecting dust, literally, you had drawn a sad face on the system in the dust. You didn’t go out with the rest of the cast anymore, claiming other plans or that you weren’t feeling well, and spent the time in your trailer alone, with the lights off. Not because you were hiding but because you didn’t care to turn them on. You’d just be turning them off when you went to sleep so what was the point? You woke up, you dragged yourself out of bed, you went to set, and then you went back to your trailer and back into bed. You’d doom scroll through social media but not interact with anything.

You went through the horrors of the world like you were trying to prove something. Or use it as a reason to be the way that you were being. The world was a crazy, unhappy place, so of course you were unhappy. Of course, you were falling into a depression - which was something that you could no longer deny. This wasn’t a few bad days, or the flu, or just feeling uneasy. This was full on, falling through the cracks, feeling worthless, depression.

You didn’t deserve to be here. You weren’t putting in the work that you should be, which made you anxious about your performance, which made you feel even worse. You felt like you were just an imposter among all of these stars, you didn’t earn your place among them. It should be someone else here. A star like - Jenna Ortega, or Noah Schnapp, would fit in here better than you could. You were messing up your lines, having to have someone feed them to you through a small earpiece that couldn’t be seen on camera. You were given warnings by the director to shape up. You didn’t even cry when you were given that criticism. You didn’t get mad, you didn’t feel proud that he cared enough about you to want you to do better, you just felt numb to it, and returned to your bed like you did time and time again.

It was after you spent an entire weekend in your bed, not showering, only eating what you could grab quickly and bring back to the bed, which was all the unhealthy stuff, not even changing your pajamas once, that you admitted that you had a problem. That you were forced to deal with the cold reality that - you weren’t coming down with the flu, but that this could seriously be depression. You couldn’t live in the denial of it anymore.

You knew you should call your parents. Maybe your manager. Maybe even your family doctor to get a referral to a therapist or something along those lines. But there was only one person that you could think of talking to.

You forced yourself into a shower, found some clothes that smelled relatively clean and didn’t have any stains on them, and put your shoes on for the first time in days. The sun was shining, and you had to admit that it felt kind of nice on your skin after so long. The crew were running around, getting things prepared for today’s shoot, which you didn’t have any part of. A free day, at least for now.

You walked past a couple of the trailers, looking for the right one. A sign in the door had his name in big block letters, and you saw that he had drawn a little Iron Man underneath it. It wasn’t very well done but it was recognizable. You knocked on the door and then put your hands in your pockets, looking around to see if anyone was noticing you lingering outside.

The door opened and Robert poked his head out. His cool expression warmed up when he saw you standing there. “What’s up kid?”

You looked at him and you tried to think of exactly how you were going to say this. He already knew the meaning behind you coming to his door. But - he was still going to make you say it. You just had to say it.

“I think - I have a problem, Robert,” You admitted. It was the first time that you said it out loud. Your first outside admission that something was wrong. You were putting it out into the universe because that’s the only way that you could get any sort of help.

“I thought so,” Robert said, stepping out of his trailer. “Come with me.”

He didn’t take you straight to a therapist or to the hospital or anything else that you had fared he was going to do. Instead, he took you to a small ice cream parlor near the studio. He bought you a sundae, loaded with all of your favorite toppings, even if you didn’t necessarily feel like eating something sweet right now. You didn’t feel like you deserved the treat.

“Go on,” Robert urged, digging into his own with a plastic spoon. “You admitted you have a problem. That’s step number one, you deserve it.”

It was like he could read your mind. He knew exactly what you were thinking and why you weren’t eating. So, you picked up the spoon and you dug it into the mess of ice cream and toppings and sauces and took out a large scoop and put it into your mouth. The sweetness ... actually tasted sweet. It didn’t taste like ashes on your tongue like a lot of food does these days. Eagerly, you went for a second scoop, and Robert was looking at you like you were a child of his that he was proud of.

“I - I don’t know if it’s depression exactly. I’ve never really been depressed before,” You admitted, stirring your ice cream to make it a little softer, a little easier to eat. “As far as I know, it doesn’t run in my family. And ... it’s not like ... I feel sad or anything. I don’t cry...”

“Depression isn’t just about feeling sad. Everyone feels sad,” Robert said, taking a bite of his own. “It sucks the life right out of you. It makes you lose your spark. Your passion. Any pleasure that you have in life, it just ... takes it away.”

“That ... is how I’ve been feeling,” you said with a small nod. “I know it’s ridiculous, like, I’ve got my dream role and -”

“It doesn't matter, kid,” Robert said, kindly. “You could be the happiest, richest person on the planet, and you can still get depressed. It’s not about deserving it. It’s just something that unfortunately happens.”

You kept stirring your ice cream rather than eating it, watching the toppings drown under the melting cream. It was hard to take in that this was something that was actually happening to you. It was like a car crash in a way. It happened to other people. It was never supposed to happen to you.

“So, what do I do?” You asked, slumping back. “Because I can’t ... I can’t be this way. It’s exhausting. I’m forgetting my lines, I can’t concentrate, I keep fucking up scenes and I feel like everyone is mad at me -”

“No one is mad at you,” Robert said, pointing his spoon in your direction. “Everyone is worried about you. I think we all had it figured out before you did. Did you know that Evans has social anxiety? He works on it every day. He’d be another good person to talk to about all of this stuff. It’s different from depression but ... it has some of the same struggles.”

“I’ll try to remember that” You mumbled. “So really, what do I do? How can I... get over this?” You plead. You put all of your trust in Robert here. He’d become a leading figure in your life since you joined the MCU.

“It’s a disease,” Robert said, sadly. “It’s not something where you just take two pills and you’re done. There are medications that’ll help you out, but they take a little while work, and sometimes, you have to go through a couple of different ones to find out what works for you. Though what I’d recommend is therapy.”

“Therapy?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t even know what I’d say. I don’t have some ... deep childhood trauma that I can just point my fingers to. I don’t even ... know how to explain how I feel.”

“You did a good enough job with me,” Robert pointed out.

“That’s because I know you. I’m comfortable with you. And you knew what it was before I did...”

“Why don’t I give you the name and number of the therapist I’ve been seeing for years. They’re really good,” Robert said, taking off his sunglasses and making straight up eye contact with you. “Or - they can help you find someone who fits you best. That’s important. You have to feel comfortable talking to them. There’s no shame in trying to find the one for you.”

You groaned and put your head down on the table, the metal feeling cold against your forehead. You were hoping it was going to be easier than that. That it could just be like antibiotics, take two a day and scare the depression away. But of course, nothing was ever going to come that easy in this life. You were going to have to work for it. Just like how you worked hard for everything else that you achieved.

“It’s going to be a trek,” Robert said, clicking his tongue, spooning up more of his ice cream. “But I think you can handle it. You took that first step, now you just have to make a phone call.”

He took a card out of his wallet, and he slid it across the table to you. A professional business card, the name and number of a therapist. You just looked at it from your position on the table, your head turned onto its side now. “Do I have to do it right now?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Robert shrugged. “It’s up to you when you’re ready.”

You sighed again. You missed the days when your parents used to make the phone calls. Used to schedule your appointments for you. Made sure that you got there on time. That was one of the annoying parts of being an adult. You had to do it yourself now.

You raised your head and read the card again. The name of the doctor in a neat, no-nonsense font. You took another spoonful of your ice cream, took your phone out of your pocket, and started to dial the number, looking at Robert the whole time who gave you a thumbs up. It was going to be a rough road but - at least you could honestly say that you were not alone. That helped more than anyone could ever understand.

#Robert Downey Jr #Robert Downey Jr x reader #Robert Downey Jr oneshot #Marvel Cast #Marvel cast oneshot #x reader #oneshot #one shot #celebrity oneshot #RDJ #RobertDJ

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lemonyko0 · 2 years

Text

Test Dummy - jjk

college gives you the perfect fresh start, far, far away from your brother and any of his cock-blocking friends. or so, you thought.

» genre: fluff! best friends brother 👀 college au, little steamy and mentions of s3x.

» word count: 4.1k

Test Dummy - jjk

We’ve all heard about “forbidden love”. We’ve seen all the movies, read all the books, watched all of the predictable tv shows. I mean, what did you think was going to happen, they weren’t going to get together?

And yet, we continue to eat it up, every time, without fail.

“What is your beef with romance? Would you rather it be easy and straight to the point or do you think writers should end every romance in tragedy?” Mina scoffs and laughs at the foot of the bed as she proof-reads my essay. “I just don’t understand your point, y/n.”

I snatch the laptop away from her, “If you’re going to start making comments before you even finish reading it, I’m not going to let you read it at all!”

She laughs and rolls onto her back on my bed, “Fine, whatever, you probably don’t need anyone else to read it anyway, I’m sure it’s great.”

I nod, “You’re right, I don’t, you asked, remember?”

She grins, “Did I?”

I roll my eyes, “Shoo, leave my house.” Her boyfriend had texted her fifteen minutes ago saying he was on his way from her parents house, “why didn’t you invite your new boyfriend again?” I ask, referring to the cellphone in her hand as she slings her coat on and grabs her purse.

Her brows raise and she thinks about her words before speaking, something I most definitely never do, and she reminds me all the time. “Honestly? I knew your brother and his heathens would be back too, and the last thing I want him around is more testosterone.”

She laughs, having previously mentioned this one is the jealous type (which is apparently, something she’s into) and she was correct in assuming my house would look the same it did in high school, Seokjin and his friends all running around the house, being loud, eating all the food, and bothering any other life-forms in the house.

“Yeah you’re right, this place is still a sausage fest. However, I think today only four of seven losers are here. Not sure though, they’ve been quiet the last hour.”

She nods, “Must be eating.”

I shake my head as well, “Food! Oh god I’m totally gonna go crash their party, I’ll walk you out.”

I bid Mina goodbye and sigh in relief as I close the door. Not that I didn’t enjoy Mina’s presence, we’ve been friends for years and despite going to different schools after graduating, we’ve still kept in touch, but entertaining people for that long, is always taxing on my social battery.

Just as Mina and I make a habit out of reuniting during school breaks and holidays, as does Seokjin and his annoying group of friends.

I stroll around the downstairs area of my family home, parents gone somewhere I’m sure they mentioned but I’m sure I ignored, and no boys to be found. “Must be in his room or something.” I mumble to myself, opening the fridge and bending down to grab a soda.

“Actually we’re in the basement dusting off the pool table, hand me one?” I practically jump out of my skin at the sound of another voice in the room, let alone directly behind me. He grins widely, “Hi, pretty.”

I smack his shoulder and shove a drink in his hand before walking past him, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, and furthermore,” I lower my voice and turn to face him, now separated by the kitchen bar, “why the hell are you talking to me like that here? That is beyond off-limits!”

He’s still sporting a shit-eating grin, “You were actually being serious about not telling your family?” I widen my eyes and gesture around us, he scoffs, “Y/N, seriously?”

I sigh, “Jungkook, this is just,” I pause, “too weird to deal with right now.”

He circles the table coolly, still leaving a respectable distance between us, “I vividly remember you saying something different a few months ago, probably when we were in my bed, but oh! Maybe it was yours?” He laughs, as if what he was saying was actually funny, “Sorry, after so many times I just get confused.”

I scan the room again, my face dark red and my hair falling from behind my ears as I aggressively point my finger, “We already talked about this and you promised me Jungkook! Now drop it.”

He takes steps closer until his chest is brushing against my finger and I drop my hand in defiance, “I didn’t agree to be your sneaky-link, I want to be your boyfriend.”

“No.” I state simply, turning to leave the room.

Jungkook quickly grabs onto my arm, “Come on Y/N, just rip the bandaid off, and tell them you’re seeing someone! Better yet, he’s right god damn here to support you! Aren’t you exhausted from this constant tug and pull thing you’ve got going on?”

I pull away from him and very theatrically tell him, “NO.” He sighs dramatically and I scoff, “What on earth do I have to tell anyone? Not only are we not together, but you are also Seokjin’s best friend.”

He throws his head back in annoyance, “I don’t understand-”

“And I will be more than glad to talk you through it, after break.” I stop him right there, tired from repeating the same argument over, and over again.

Before leaving for university, the thought of ever being with one of my brothers delinquent friends sounded appalling. I had to listen to their male nonsense my entire life, being dragged around and made fun of and simultaneously, extremely cock-blocked. Not a single date-night, crush, date to dances, anything. If I wanted one, he’d be scrutinized and scared off. It was impossible, and incredibly annoying.

So imagine my delight, leaving for school knowing I had successfully avoided both my brother, and every single one of his associates.

That is until Jungkook transfers his second year, and didn’t tell anyone where-to until it was too late.

Which I figured, whatever. The likely chance we’ll ever cross paths is slim to none, no problem!

Except he latched onto me like an actual parasite. It had taken him long enough to find the overlap in our schedules, my study time coincided with his! Oh and his gym-time too! And he liked getting coffee around the same time as me as well! Oh and he doesn’t like the treadmills at the gym anymore, and would much rather run at the same time as me, on the same path, and at the same pace.

I questioned his motives from the start, and eventually gave up on pushing him away. I could have worse company, I suppose. And compared to the rest of his and Seokjin’s friend’s, I did know him the best, and disliked him the least.

We actually grew close in a short amount of time and I found myself enjoying his company, although I still struggle to admit it. I tried so hard to clear my life of my brother's shadow looming over me but Jungkook never mentioned it. He actually seemed to pick up on my avoidance, and what I was trying to do by going to a big school and one I knew no one else was attending. He was perfect in the sense that I never had to tell Jungkook what I was thinking, he just, knew. He also knew what to do, and just what I needed.

As one should have expected, you can’t just fling yourself into the dating world head-first and expect everything to work out how you imagined it would. I had no experience! No precursor, no context clues, no cues, and absolutely zero clue that the rules and expectations of college-dating was completely different to those you read about.

I was on the third failed date when Jungkook decided it was time to ask, even though I knew he was hesitant.

It was autumn, the leaves turning cool to warm-tones and trees shedding, I remembered the extra crunch during my morning run with Jungkook. He sat against my bed with a textbook in front of him and a notebook in his lap when he looks up at me on my bed, “How did your date go?”

I hum, looking at him questioningly, knowing damn-well I had never mentioned my dating life to Jungkook. “You know, you won’t shrivel up and die if you ask people for help.”

I begrudgingly chuckle at his comment, “I don’t need to ask for help. Men are just stupid and horny.”

He nods, “I don’t deny that, but, perhaps you’re fishing in the wrong pool.”

I sigh, “I’ve fished from different pools! I did the ‘helpful guy in my maths class’ and the ‘cute guy always in the library’ and even dating apps! And one would think if you just wanted to have sex, you would NOT put ‘looking for a relationship’ in your bio, but I suppose some people just aren’t that logically-inclined?”

He grins and leans his head back against my bed, “actual dating isn’t what half of the guys your age are looking for right now. Sorry to say it, but unless flings are what you’re looking for, first-year guys aren’t going to offer more.” He speaks easily, almost tentatively, as if he was breaking hard news to me. “At least, not this early in the year. But I get your enthusiasm, it’s not like you got out much in school.”

I raise my eyebrows to that, “That’s for damn sure.” We both chuckle, and I sigh annoyed, “It’s just upsetting, like everyone is at a completely different place in their lives than me, I mean, fuck I’ve never so much as made out with someone!” I laugh and he hesitantly laughs after me, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t register at the time, but I continued, because he was listening, and for once I felt comfortable enough to tell someone other than Mina, and I needed that. She wasn’t here anymore, and doing things on my own wasn’t working. “I just, feel so detached and angry.”

He nods, leaving a few moments of silence to ensure I was done before speaking, “I mean, if it bothers you that much and you think it’d help, I will certainly volunteer to be your test dummy.”

I smile before his words really sink in and I look down to him with brows furrowed, he’s grinning with a pained expression, “what do you mean by that Jungkook?”

His eyes widen and he raises his hands in surrender, “I-I strictly mean it in a if-it-would-help sense, just, trying to offer solutions! Sorry, that was weird and wrong.”

He slouches back down and buries himself in his work, and it’s not spoken of again.

Two weeks later, and my morning runs with Jungkook have become a given, and as the leaves turn redder and begin to brown and fall off, I find his presence more and more comforting. I’m not sure exactly when the lines blurred. I wish I could say I was on something. I wasn’t sober, I was lonely, I was just being stupid. But none of it was true. Well, that last bit is partly true, I was stupid, for not seeing what was going on until it was right in front of me.

“Why not you?” I speak aloud, almost as if my thoughts had slipped past the gates in my brain and right out of my mouth.

It catches Jungkook off-guard, my out of context bambling. He was just stretching against a nearby tree after our run, and asked me what coffee shop I was in the mood for. “Why not me, what?”

I stare at him, mouth agape, and I’m sure it takes me much longer than it should have to conjure up a response. I ran through my options, lie, surely. It’s not supposed to go like this.

Or, just tell him. Jungkook had been a more than good friend to me up until then, why not? “Why not you?” I repeat. He doesn’t speak, leaving me to fill in more of the blanks. I catch my breath finally, “You, Jungkook.” I say, he nods, slowly, almost like he was worried or scared. “Why not go on a date, with you?”

He stares at me. Emotionless. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t so much as move the stray hair falling into his eyes from underneath his hoodie. I laugh, “Nevermind, that was stupid of me.”

He stills, before shaking out of it then shaking his head profusely, “No no no no, not stupid.” I raise my brows and he looks me in the eyes, “I mean, are you being serious?”

I nod slowly, “Well, yeah, it makes perfect sense, and you even brought it up, a while ago.”

He hums, “Yeah, I’m sure I did, but, when?”

He asks for a reminder, “When you told me you volunteered to be my ‘test dummy’ for relationships. So why not, show me what it’s like.”

Something told me his reaction was disingenuous, “Oh, yeah, sure.”

He smiled anyway, picking up his bag and water, “Well, in that case, let our first date be a coffee date, on me.” He animatedly looped his arm around mine and walked away from our running trail and towards the nearby shop.

Jungkook was, as expected, a perfect gentleman. And I thought, that was what he was supposed to be. We were doing this whole thing so I could get some experience under my belt with less hassle and pressure, it was perfect.

There was always something, though. A little voice screaming at me that something is wrong and needed to be addressed. But neither of us did. Not when he walked me to my ‘doorstep’ (the front of my building) on our third date and told me, “this is when any good man would likely try to kiss you.” He looked at me, I looked at him and nodded, “the third date?” He nodded, “Yep, of course, only if you’re showing signs you’re interested, and even better if he explicitly asks.”

I nod and smile up at him, both of our hands shoved into our pockets, the wind making the nighttime much chillier. He bites at his bottom lip and shifts his weight from his toes, to his heels, and back and forth, until I say, “so, are you going to ask?”

This stops him, “ask… what?”

I laugh, thinking how stupid of a question, “To kiss me?”

His eyes widen, and then he leans back, shaking his head with a grin, “No no, this isn’t-”

“What, did I do something wrong?”

He quickly shakes his head, “No, nothing, you’re perfect.”

I ignore the way my cheeks flush despite the cold, “Okay then.” I lead on, he looks at his feet. He never tried to leave, he never told me goodnight, offered to kiss me on the cheek, he just did, nothing.

And I simply wasn’t having that.

I leaned up on my toes and pulled my warm hands from my pockets and placed them tentatively on his face, and I kissed him.

It was quick, I had kissed someone before, albeit years ago, and I was not confident at all in my skills. But I was confident in myself. I knew he wanted to kiss me but didn’t think it was right.

I bid him goodbye that night, and life went on just as it always did. From that line crossed, every line there on after became more and more blurred. When exactly “trial dating” became real dating, I’m unsure.

It gave me a perfect excuse as to why I was spending so much time with Jungkook, and why I was enjoying it, until I tried wine for the first time. We both had a decent amount, and I had sex for the first time.

That, still, is one of my largest regrets. I mostly wish we could go back, and do it differently. Or had at least weighed the outcomes of putting me, the guy I liked, and a bottle of wine and zero reference of a tolerance in a romantically-set up room.

From then on, Jungkook and I have argued over what we are, what to do, what we were doing, at all. I had made a bubble. A perfectly constructed, safe space. No one holding me back, judging me, or shadows looming. I was comfortable in my bubble.

That was until break came, and my bubble literally, popped.

I told Jungkook, (I’ll admit, rather coldly) that from the moment we were back in our hometown, none of this had ever happened. “If they ask, we kept up with each other on campus as friends, but that was it.”

He did not take well to this, but what was I supposed to do? Re-introduce one of my brother's closest friends as “my friend I go on dates with and kiss and sleep with every so often but he’s not really my boyfriend I don’t know we haven’t figured it out yet.” ???? Absolutely not. It is too complicated, too fast, too much for my brain to deal with all at once. It is bad enough returning home, and even worse knowing my problems were following me and harassing me in my own kitchen.

Jungkook sighs, having relented, “I don’t know what else to do, y/n.”

I pause for a moment, then shrug, “I’ve told you, i-it’s a hard situation. And any normal guy in your position would most definitely not be invited to my home during holiday, let alone bonding with my entire family and even join us for freaking christmas dinner if he wanted.”

His eyes look past me before nodding solemnly, “I get that, really, I-I’ve kept my distance! I’ve done what you asked, but you’re not even meeting me halfway.”

I put my hands out in front of him, “There is no half-way Jungkook.” I look to the basement door when I hear a voice and the steps creaking, “As of right now, there is nothing to talk about.”

He opens his mouth to complain and I loudly hush him, “Ah! Stop talking.”

He tries speaking again, no doubt further complaints about how unfair I’m being, and thankfully he notices Seokjin seconds before he slings his arm around him with a grin, “Wondered what was taking you so long to grab my coke.”

He laughs it off and Seokjin crosses the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge, and I turn to leave before he calls out to me, “Yeah?”

“There’s still pizza down there, and we found the missing 4 striped ball.” He points at the basement door with the drink in his hand and chuckles, “Which if I remember correctly, you lost when you practically threw it at me.”

I roll my eyes, “I did not throw it at you, you hid it from me so I couldn’t win, I was beating you so bad you had to cheat.”

He chortles, “Yeah, that may be, but I’m nowhere near the best player anymore, you could easily win even if I cheated.”

I nod, “Yeah I’m sure-”

“Actually, Jungkook beat me twice and Taehyung forfeited, that's why we sent him up here, so we could have our own losers match.” He makes himself laugh even harder, walking back over to Jungkook, “We’re gonna go play mario kart in my old bedroom, you can join us or see if y/n is still the best at pool.” He speaks to Jungkook, but looks at me.

I shake my head, “It’s not that deep-”

“Of course! We have to.” Jungkook says quickly. I narrow my eyes towards him and he grins cockily, “unless you know you’ll already lose.”

I roll my eyes, “Comedic, you’ve always been a sore loser, I refuse for the sake of your ego.”

He scoffs, “Nope. Liar. You know you’re no good anymore and you’ll lose.”

I shake my head, “You’ll say anything to get me to play.”

He leans against the table, “Just one round. And I’ll even offer best of three, when you lose.” He grins cockily and I mock him.

“Whatever. ONE round, that’s it.”

Seokjin claps, “Perfect! Winner can run their victory lap around the house and boasting rights until next year, and loser pays our dinner later.” He pats our backs excitedly before jogging up to his room, Taehyung not far behind him.

Jungkook and I enter the basement, setting up the game and talking shit, as one does. “Who’s breaking?”

He smiles, holding his chosen pool cue, “Ladies first.”

I nod, “Such a gentleman.”

He laughs, “Yeah, that’s what got me into your pants.”

I mess up my shot and berate him. “I have half the mind to come over there and use this forcefully.” I lift up my pool cue and he pretends to be scared.

“Oh no! Please don’t!” I walk over to him, slap his chest and I only get one good (albeit, wimpy, compared to his strength) hit in before he grabs both of my hands and backs me into the pool table. He leans into me, our bodies touching leaving absolutely no room, and he kisses me.

I’m able to forget my surroundings and lose all rationality when he kisses me. He licks at my lips and I let his tongue slide past, soon enough his hands drop the cue, mine long forgotten as his hands slide down my body and he lifts me onto the table.

My hands are split, one tangling his hair and the other feeling his chest. He continues to kiss me fervently, hungrily, like he was touch-starved and in dire need of attention. He pulls me close and rubs against me, showing me how bad he wants me and it takes all the strength I have left to pull away, calling out to him. He ignores me the first time, kissing me in response to his name. I pull away again, “Jungkook.” he hums, busying himself with kissing and biting my neck, “Jungkook, w-we can’t.”

My pleas fall on deaf ears. “Jungkook, please,” my hands tug on his arms that are wrapped around me, “not here.”

He buries his face in my neck and leans into me with an annoyed groan. I let him rest like that for a while, waiting until he lifted his head and looked at me. “I don’t actually want to play pool.”

I chuckle, “Me neither.”

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Okay so let's use this table for a much better purpose.” He leans back into kiss me and I turn away, laughing at his desperate attempt.

“Jungkook, it’s bad enough, what we’re doing, let alone to do it in my house, where Seokjin is literally in, right now.”

He whines, “I don’t care! I will go up there right now and tell him-”

“Tell him what?!” Jungkook stops in his tracks. “Tell him what, Jungkook?” He doesn’t respond. “Exactly. We don’t have a label. I’m not ready to figure this out yet, there’s nothing to tell them now.”

His gaze softens and he steps towards me, his hands resting on my thighs as he draws circles on them, “But we’ll tell them eventually? It won’t be like this, much longer?”

I sigh, scratching his head and looking him in the eyes, “if we become official, if we really work out, then yes, of course. We’ll tell them.”

He kisses me again, barely parting our lips, “Okay, I’ll stop.”

I kiss him back and laugh, “Really? That’s all it took?” He furrows his brows. “Jungkook, I’ve been saying that since the beginning. Albeit, quite meaner.”

He nods, “You were being a megabitch, but I really like you so I didn’t mind.” He presses our noses together and smiles. I push his chest offendedly and he doesn’t move an inch, “You were stressed, worried, and confused, I don’t blame you. I should've been more sympathetic.” I kiss him again and thank him, followed by my own apology for mistreating him. “But there is still something different this time.”

I hum, “Yeah? What.”

He grins, “You acknowledged us being together.”

I roll my eyes, knowing I couldn’t hide the way my cheeks heat while trapped in his arms, “Whatever, stop talking.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

heyyy thanks for reading! if u liked it check out my masterlist for more :) also!! i am (tentatively) accepting requests! send them in via dm or askbox! hope u have a gorgeous day! - ara <3

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taglist: @marvelahsobx @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @heronstairsxd @isab3lita @shescharlie @jeonzll @kooookie @nickyisityou @laylasbunbunny @morganaah

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matan4il · 2 years

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Eddie and baby trapping

Okay, so I remember when 505 aired, I made a joke in my weekly meta about Eddie smugly looking at Buck and saying, “you’re stuck with us,” because he KNEW his baby daddy wasn’t going anywhere. I think it was about a day or so after I posted that meta, I saw the joke about Eddie baby trapping Buck in reference to that same scene for the first time, and I laughed and thought it really says something if so many people understood the scene in more or less the same way.

Some time ago, I was talking to @toughpaperround about an old TV show I love (it finished airing before my parents even met, which is why it kinda feels redundant to name it, I’m just “lucky” to live in a country where, when I was a kid, they used to air old shows during the day). I got all nostalgic and ended up looking for it online. Turns out that as a kid, I only caught the second part of the show. So guess what? I knew back then that The Hero was raising a kid on his own after he lost the kid’s mother. What I didn’t know at the time was that the kid wasn’t The Hero’s biological son. And I’m actually kind of even more in love with the fact that he raised that boy so much as his own that I had no idea they weren’t blood related. However, seeing the first part of the show made it clear that The Hero WAS, in fact, baby trapped.

The shortest version of the story is that there’s a great disaster, The Hero is sent to save and get out as many people as possible, which happens to include this very beautiful woman (and she’s also kind of famous in that reality, I think) and her son. After everyone’s been rescued and goes on with life, the mom finds The Hero and tells him her son has been distraught since he lost his dog in the disaster. She said with how The Hero treated him while saving everyone, she’s sure The Hero is good with kids, and she needs his help with hers. Mind you, she’s the actual parent, The Hero is single, has no kids, is not a professional who is trained to help or has any kid experience in any way, is very handsome and brave, saved everyone, won a medal, and looks damn good in a uniform. Did I mention he’s very pretty? And as a guy who regularly puts his life on the line to save others, he’s also clearly someone who’s not gonna say no to people asking for help. Especially not when it comes to a kid. Long story short, he helps the kid, the boy expresses a wish by the end of this story arc for The Hero to be his dad, Hero and mom get married, she dies shortly after, Hero’s left emotionally scarred, I skipped to the second part of the show.

Because watching the first part, I was like... “Oh, she baby trapped him for real. Not as a funny joke fans tell.” And I came to realize, I quite detest when shows do that. When they’re too lazy to work on building a real connection between two characters, so they shove a damsel in distress with a kid into the path of a Good Guy, and the initial, deeper bond is between the guy and the kid. The damsel sort of... comes with the package of wanting to be the kid’s actual dad and all sorts of family feels that muddy the water.

And the beautiful thing about Buddifer is, that's NOT their story. During 201, when Eddie is trying to get into Buck’s good graces? He clearly never even thinks of bringing up Chris and using him like that. In 202, when Buck asks about the phone call, Eddie is hesitant when it comes to telling him about Chris and showing Buck his photo. We never see Eddie explicitly asking Buck for anything regarding his son, he never tries to dump a part of his parental responsibility on someone who isn’t a professional in a relevant field.

It’s Buck who in 202 chooses to go on consoling Eddie with why Chris is actually real safe, in 203 it’s Buck who chooses to right away alert Eddie that cellphone reception is back, in 204 Eddie still never asks Buck for help (presumably indicating that he also didn’t ask for any at the end of 203, it must have been Buck who offered to drive Eddie to Christopher’s school) and so it’s Buck who smooths things over with Bobby before any problems might arise, and it’s Buck who’s thinking about how to help Eddie when talking to Maddie, and it’s Buck who decides to set up the connection with Carla.

I just need to say how much I love Buck for being that person, not just the man who feels compelled to help when asked to because he’s a Good Guy, but the person who is sincerely interested, and who for real falls in love with Chris as well as with the way that Eddie loves his son. See, when they reach the school at the end of 203? It’s very evident that Eddie isn’t thinking about Buck for a second when he runs in to hug Chris. He’s not concerned about what anyone else might think, their hug is the most genuine expression of love, and relief and their strong, beautiful bond. And Buck just sits in the car with the biggest case of heart eyes ever observed on any TV screen.

And I also love Eddie for being that person, who can accept help when it comes to Chris (help for himself is a different matter) from professionals, but isn’t looking to dump his burden on others. He won’t actually baby trap anyone into helping him or being his friend or involved more than they actually want to be. He’s the man who hesitates before he shows his son’s picture to a relative stranger, because that’s a part of being a protective parent as well, but he’s not closed off to the point of being suspicious and rejecting Buck’s wish to be there and step into the mess with them. Eddie somehow manages to find just the right balance between not dragging Buck into Christopher’s life more than what Buck might be comfortable with, and yet not shutting off his new friend either. That’s not easy in this sensitive situation, especially for a man like Eddie, who has never had a good role model in terms of how to let people in and accept the right amount of help, how not to become extreme in either direction.

I still think the joke is hilarious! But if we’re being serious, I believe a part of Buddifer’s magic is that there was no baby trapping. They really chose each other and became a real family. The show took its time investing in them and building them up as a family. It’s at least a part of why I personally love them so much!

~ ~ Thank you so much to the wonderful @buckleyirondad for helping me with the gorgeous gifs for this meta! You’re a star! xoxox

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michellemisfit · 2 months

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WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY - FIRSTS!

Tagged by @suzy-queued @deedala @darlingian @heymrspatel @lingy910y @energievie @mybrainismelted @blue-disco-lights

Name: Michelle

Age: Currently getting a kick out of telling people that I’m nearly 40 and having them go ‘NO WAY!!!’ - It’s funny and flattering :)

First Pet: Siberian gerbils called Tom & Jerry

First Word: No idea. Turns out my parents kept a baby book for my older brother where they painstakingly recorded all of that stuff. I found mine a few years ago and it’s got a grand total of 3 entries, one of which is talking about how chubby I am, and how I am yet to find a food I’ll say no to, and let’s hope that’s not a sign of things to come… after which it was abandoned. Thanks mum.

First Celebrity Crush: Leonardo DiCaprio

First IRL Crush: Dominik. We hung out basically every day after school. I would go round to his house and he would play me the latest Michael Jackson tape and show me new dance steps that he’d taught himself. I thought he was so cool.

First Kiss: Age 14 with my first boyfriend. He was 20 years old. We were in a relationship for over a year. Shit was fucked up. At the risk of repeating myself… Thanks mum.

First Car: Bebop 🚙 He’s my baby and I bought him this year and I love him! He’s a turquoise 2013 Toyota Yaris Hybrid.

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents: Heh. I moved straight from my childhood bedroom to a different country. If you’re gonna do something, do it right! lol

First Time on a Plane: I was… 18 months old? Parents went on holidays to Florida. I have about 3 memories from that trip.

First Cellphone: Nokia 3210 😎

First Concert: David Hasselhoff. I was maybe… 6? And I got very tired and slept through the second half, but my parents woke me up for Looking for Freedom, which was my favourite song of his.

First Foreign country you visited? Italy or France most likely. Pure proximity, and most of our family vacations were done by car from Switzerland so…

First sport you ever played? Hmm. I did competitive swimming when I was very young. And then gymnastics. And after that… about five minutes of football (the only sport I to this day do not understand. How do I run AND kick a ball simultaneously?!?), then 3 years of tennis, 2 years of basketball, 8 years of roller hockey, and a whole smattering of other sports on and off.

First career aspiration? I mean… I basically wanted to be a Disney Princess, purely for the Animal Best Friend aspect! And then any form of Animal Whisperer would have done the trick. I watched all the TV shows and movies where characters had magical bonds with animals, and I wanted that. And then I realised that the characters in the shows and movies aren’t real, but the people training and handling those animals *are*. However that wasn’t something realistic to aspire to, being Swiss, so instead I became a bookseller (somehow that made sense at the time… 🤷🏽‍♂️). And then 15 years later, in a different country and a different life, I did end up training animals for TV and film. So that’s kinda nifty.

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think “wow”

Hmmm. I dunno. I thought I was really fucking talented when I was about 12. I wrote a novel and sent it to publishing houses and literary agencies. One of them invited me for an interview, because they thought my writing was great and they wanted to meet the kid that had sent them a manuscript aged 12/13. They ended up giving me a job, working as a admin/secretary/slush pile reader. They also gave me lots of feedback and constructive criticism on my writing. I scrapped the novel I had sent them in favour of writing a different, better novel. I still think that novel was pretty fucking good. I tried to get my mum to proof read it and give me feedback so I could do any necessary corrections before I spent my pocket money on photocopies, C4 envelopes, and a whole bunch of stamps so I could attempt to get it published again. She was dragging her feet and I tried to explain the urgency, because I was clear that it needed to happen before I turned 14. That was the goal in my head. I had huge ambitions and dreams. I was also convinced that if it happened after I turned 14 it wouldn’t be special anymore. Like anyone could do it after 14… 🙄 In response to this my mum told me that she’d had ambition and dreams, too, when she was my age. But not to worry, that’ll go away, and once you’ve put away the fanciful notions of being talented then you can just get on with your life…

Not sure if this actually answers the question, but that was kinda the first and last time I remember feeling uncomplicatedly good about and proud of something I created. After this anything creative I did was always immediately followed by the doubt of ‘is this actually good, or is this just a fanciful notion I have about being talented, when in actual fact it sucks?’ 🤷🏽‍♂️

Wow. Ended that on a downer, didn’t I?

…

Erm… I wrote Tell me we’ll never get used to it,

They’re the only two people left that know what it’s like to have loved and to have lost a Lightwood.

And it’s a good story.

There.

I said it…

Tagging @crossmydna @palepinkgoat @too-schoolforcool @vintagelacerosette @heymacy @loftec @mikhailoisbaby @rereadanon @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @ian-galagher @andthatisnotfake @francesrose3 @faejilly @jrooc @creepkinginc if you fancy playing? I’m just very exited I’m actually posting this on a Wednesday still! Whoop!!

#Mys stuff #tag game #tag game Wednesday #firsts

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zuffer-weird-girl · 2 years

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Anon request: hey glad to see you're back zuffer! No pressure or anything, but I would love if you write a fic about Chisaki x fem reader inspired by the song 10 things I hate abou you by Leah Kate... actually is the chorus of her saying the ten things not the actual whole song 😅

You can do wtv it fits you. It can be before or after the Hassaikai arc or even the break down of tartarus.you choose the ending :3

'Despite the destruction it caused, the infamous villain All For One used his Quirks to free as many prisoners as he could to-'

"Bullshit." You mumbled before roughly pressing the buttons of the remote and turning off the TV.

Japan was pretty much know by now as the country which was falling apart. You didn't even remember getting shocked when the Paranormal Liberation Front, which were the league of villains some months ago, made their appearance and caused all this chaos around the country.

Now? As you watched the news about Tartarus, the prison which was know to be extremely distanced from civilization and have thethe highest security standards possible, apparently just was freacking destroyed.

A bunch of villains escaped. Some were captured again and brought back by some heroes who didn't caved under the pressure of the current moment. .. but still that didn't meant nothing.

No one was safe. If even heroes were struggling, imagine innocent civilians? Children? Elders?

You bited down on your bottom lip before releasing a shaky sigh while grasping on the side of your head in hopes to calm down... even if just a little.

"I need tea..." You mumbled more to yourself before settling the kettle on the stove, rather abruptly, already filled with water.

A notification sound of your cellphone made you turn change your focus to your cellphone... picking it up you heaved a sigh at recognizing the number .. still not saved on your contacts.

'His fingers twitched this morning... I can't give any affirmation that he will wake up, but is a progress.'

The doctors had been quite... emphatic with you. More about the elder even despite being a ex gangster.

You guessed it was only fair. You would also feel pity towards a old man who had absolutely no body left. His daughter simply disappeared, his grabddaughter was given custody to Eraserhead and was currently being raised on the grounds of UA... the only human being that was inside his room besides the nurse was you....

And of course, you couldn't forget about Kai.... that fucking asshole.

Teeth sinking in each other you tried to breath in and shake the thought away of that disgusting guy away from your head... easier said than done.

Two years of your life now seemed like you just had tossed them on the trash can and was only noticing it now... Your... "relationship" with the infamous Overhaul was rather...intriguing by many.

He wasn't by any means affectionate to a normal level, he didn't allowed you to interact much with the Hassaikai... the time Eri was introduced to you and him was your last time seeing her because he claimed it wasn't good for neither you or him to have that kid near since you could get "ideas". The rare fights you had with him were majority one sided because in the heat of the moment he just simply wouldn't show any traces of care. His sickening goal of putting the Hassaikai back to the Golden years were far more important to him rather than your one fucking year anniversary apparently.

Yeah, there were sweet times... but now you couldn't focus and wouldn't allow yourself to remember them.

Because now you hated him. And you had to remind this yourself every damn day.

You had been know as every sickening name by the hassaikai members... such as "Overhaul's fuck toy", "Poor woman" or "The devil's spouse."

But now? The most hurtful ones you could remember were the tittle that your ex father in love called you: "a miracle to his boy" and the disgusting pet name Kai had called you for all these years... angel.

Most of your friends stopped talking to you the moment the news spread and knew you were on a relationship with him. You didn't had many before that, so now you were completely alone asides from very few people that stood by... or the people who saw your expression of not only broken heart, but also betrayal.

Your neighbors always talked about how you had no obligation to go and check on the old boss... but you always would brush them off with a weak and fake smile.

"Is not his fault what Chisaki did to me or that kid. He has no one now... He was always nice to me and treated me like his own daughter, so I guess I'm only returning his kindness." The old lady frowned at you with a hand resting on the right side of her face in worry once she asked why were you going to the hospital again.

"Dear is not good for your health... Look at you, you lost weight again I can tell... have you been eating enough?"

"Yeah, of course..." You haven't "Sorry, I got to go now or else they won't let me in."

"You can't keep doing this (L/n)-chan... knock on my door in case you need anything, ok?"

"I will, thank you." You bowed in gratitude and left that day with tears escaping your eyes in a alarming rate that even the doctors had asked you if you needed something...

That was the most you got with anyone on a conversation... asides from your therapist of course.

At least in all those months you made some progress. You weren't having the same amount of panic attacks and crying like before... so it's a start.

The kettle started to whistle as you jumped to turn it off the heat and make your tea... humming at the smell and preparing it just the way you like it before sighing in bliss.

Until a fucking brutal knock on your door made you jump and almost drop your hot beverage.

It was three am. Who on the whole world was going to visit you at this ungodly hour?

Your anxiety started to oick up and you couldn't help but curse under your breath as whoever was outside your door banged on it once again. Grabbing the most neat object to defend yourself you warily walked towards the door and grabbed on the handle of it before mustering the courage to say something.

"Who is it?!" Curse you for not getting a magic eyes just to see whoever it was through the door...

"I'm sorry ... is this (L/n) (Y/n)'s apartment?" You furrowed your eyebrows and grabbed on your macaroni roll tighter as you hummed loud enough for that broken voices owner to hear you.

"What's the issue? I paid my rent." You mumbled while unlocking the door wide enough for you to peek outside and almost gasp at who was at your door.

That kid... that green haired kid who... what was his name..? God he looked horrible.. what happened to this kid?

"Oh.. oh my.." You whispered, looking down at the boy whose eyes were avoid of any emotion "I.. I know you."

"You do?" You nodded in brief disbelief as you lowered your "weapon" down.

"Yeah. You're the kid that was along the heroes that destroyed my former house and beat the shit out of my ex's ass." You forced a smile to ease the tension and you a tinge of relief appeared when the boy let out a weak giggle.

"I'm sorry about your first impression of me..." the boy mumbled broken lyrics as you shaked your hands desperately.

"No no no! Trust me, if I was in your shoes and knew at the time all of things that happened I would have done the same.. even worse to be honest." You mumbled the last part to yourself as the boy exhaled.

"Miss... I'm so so sorry for bothering you... but we need your help in something..."

"We? My help?" You mumbled before finally noticing the winged hero behind him "Oh shit sorry! I didn't noticed you!"

"That's alright." Hawks spoke with a smile to apparently ease your nerves. "But... you might want to sit down to listen to this though.."

"No." You hissed, arms crossed in your chest as you gave one of your best death glares at the older male since you didn't had the courage to even raise your voice at the poor teenager whose looked like it had been through hell and back.

He tried to speak again as you raised your voice a little more.

"I am not fucking seeing that piece of garbage again. Don't get me wrong, but I bet none of you would be comfortable with a sociopath especially since he is my freacking ex boyfriend."

Deku looked up a bit at you and you couldn't quite understand what was his expression.

"So the answer is no. I'm not going to talk with him to convince that thick skull to apologize to Eri. I would like him to be on his knees to beg forgiveness for her. But I know him. Sadly."

"He spoke about you." You scoffed at the boy comment automatically "The only thing he kept muttering was how he needed to apologize to the old man and .... you."

Just now he decided to apologize? You thought with a disgusted frown.

"I'm so sorry... but I wanted him to apologize to Eri... so I promised that if he did that, he could see the man he kept talking about and you."

"Wow, without consulting me if I wasn't traumatized by him or anything." You spoke in harsh sarcasm before regretting your attitude at seeing the boy get more and more depressed.

"... alright." You sighed with eyes closed, catching both of their attentions "did he already talked with Eri?"

"Yeah..."

"Poor girl." You mumbled with a grimace before uncrossing your arms. "The old man is his mentor, more like a adoptive father really. He is on this hospital." You went to grab your cellphone and show them the address.

"... do you think you need time to.." Hawks started as you blinked.

"Where even is he?" You answered him with another question and not liking how both of them were suddenly hesitant to give you an answer.

"... outside."

You cursed yourself for widening your eyes and accidentally letting out a gasp at seeing his appearance when they escorted the man inside.

What the hell happened to his arms?!

"Shigaraki Tomura was the main responsible for this is what we heard off." Hawks answered and you face palmed mentally at noticing you had actually voiced your thoughts out loud.

You stared in horror at the man you once called yours in front of you.... surely prison hadn't done him any good.. Every since the moment he was practically dragged inside he hadn't looked up from the ground. His once big and dangerous frame now seemed so broken.. so small and fragile.

No. No pitying him. He deserved every second of his torture.

"You want us inside?" Hawks asked in a gentle tone of voice buy you shaked your head no.

"He can't do much and I will shout if I see him trying to escape." You managed to spoke in a cold tone of voice, not how Chisaki seemed to suddenly be aware of your presence.

"Alright."

They left but you noticed how they didn't exactly closed your door... probably they were just leaning against the wall and waiting for the time you two had to be finished.

A pregnant silent was in the room as you glared at the figurine in front of you.

"So." You decided to spoke first, ignoring how you felt your hands trembling "You finally lowered yourself down to beg something from someone, and you stay quiet?"

At that jab, he finally looked up... his golden eyes seemed so broken.. he had eyebags now possibly due to his mind plaguing and not allowing him to sleep... or simply couldn't due to well, being in prison. His hair was longer, a stubble had grown on his face...

He never liked facial hair... but a memory flashed in your eyes of every single time he was about to shave he would begrudgingly let you caress it with a soft tinge of pink across his face as you gushed how he would look good with beard.

Damn you... stop this... stop torturing yourself like this...

"I..." his voice shocked you for a bit... he sounded like he had coughed or shouted at the top of his lungs due to how weak and hoarse it was "I just... can't exactly muster how..." he sighed, apparently giving up as you arched a eyebrow.

"If you're going tk stay standing like that and not mutter a word you just as might as well go. The door is right behind you." You growled and for the first time in your knife you saw Chisaki actually finch.

Flinch at how unforgiving was your voice, flinch at how you just seemed to not even want to talk with him.

That must have had stroked him on a sore spot because soon he started to speak again.

"I... regret everything." He mumbled "Everything I did to cause all this... mess. It... wasn't my goal to hurt you nor him this deeply.." a minute passed before he looked up at your bitter chucke.

"Oh it wasn't huh?" You chuckled humorless "Sure sure. I will believe that. Why not? I will trust your words after the whole lie and chaos you caused Chisaki." His eyes squinted at how you used his last name.

"It... truly wasn't. You knew I was trying to return the favor to the old man and-"

"And when he told you no you put him into a coma. What a way to say thank you for getting me out of the street, huh?" You growled, glaring at him as he fidget on his.. or was he nervous or he was feeling extremely awkward.

"(Y/n)... I-" a loud slap sound echoed in room as he hissed at the lain forming in his cheek.

When did you go so close to him enough to slap him that harsh?

"You don't call me that every again. You don't get that privilege." You growled, hand still in the air as he blinked before lowering his head.

"I.. apologize. For everything."

"You had to be prisioned and lost your arms and quirk to utter a apology to me?! After 2 freacking years?!"

"I was in the wrong I know... I acknowledge that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I just couldn't... I couldn't go back without heating your voice once again... even if you despise me now." You pushed him hard enough for him to almost lost his balance.

"Are you fucking serious?! Despise is not even considered a nickname to how much I hate you Chisaki kai! Not even close!" You yelled as he widened his usually jump looking golden eyes at your outburst.

"You always in out relationship would have that arrogance so high that you never once thought about how much you hurted me back then! Your ego was stick up in your ass and you wouldn't even accept a freacking advice from the people you deemed to care about! And now you think you deserve to utter a word to me or to Pops?!" You screamed as his jaw clenched. But you didn't stopped.

"I remind myself every day now how fucking awful you are! I got a number of reasons!" You exclaimed with your hands raised high as you started to count "You're selfish enough to let someone die to gain whatever you want! You're jaded; and for the record even if you are smart you sure are the most dumb guy I dated to even think that fucked up plan of yours would work!" You face palmed and he hissed at the harsh sound but not muttering a word.

"Always freacking acting like a top dog but to.my surprise you were a fucking virgin and talked a big game about it!" You approached him angrily as you started to harshly poke enough he felt a tinge of pain on his chest as you glared up at him "You're toxic, I couldn't even trust you wholly when we were together and let's not even talk about your mysophobia and parent issues." You growled between teeth as he fought back the urge to just tear up.

You punched his chest as he let out a oof sound as he widened his eyes at you as you trembled with your face down.

"2 years of my life that I can't just go back and undo... but I hate you so much." You looked up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks as you did your best to not sob "I hate that despite all this you made this idiot love you despite all of that!" You let out a sob on the end as just eyes got impossibly wider.

He couldn't move when you headbutt him on his chest and started to harshly slap his chest... his eyes suddenly starting to water...

"I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU CHISAKI KAI!" You screamed at the top of your lungs as he sniffled and sinked his head on yours... the only thing he could actually do to be honest.

Your sobs and screams would torment him for life... but the way your hands stopped to slap at his chest to just cling onto his white clothes and muffle your cries on him was enough for two tears to drop from his eyes as he still stood in shock at your outburst.

He really fucked up, didn't he?

He started to panick when you suddenly got yourself off of him only for him tk notice how harsh your trembling was... how many tears you were shedding because of him as you hugged yourself to provide some comfort... sobs still stuck at your throat.

"Get out."

No...

"(Y/n)... angel I-"

"GET OUT!"

Don't go...

Don't give up on me... please.

You hated yourself for still loving the man whose was forced out of your apartment.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #bnha villains x reader #chisaki kai #bnha villains #zuffer writings

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beardedmrbean · 3 months

Note

Thank you for liking my collection, perhaps other people will too

But I saw that post about how funimation is shutting down and it’s capitalism fault…but bitch it’s streaming service exclusively for ANIME. A huge niche

Also to the reason why, their both are shitshows. But Sony owns funimation and bought crunchyroll, two anime streaming services

Now crunchyroll(which is a shitshow too) got popular

Like been to your local Walmart?

There a section at Walmart dvd area dedicated to crunchyroll in mine

So while this sucks (especially it seems that Sony isn’t going to let people transition their Funi stuff to crunchyroll) it not shocking

Now their a mess, let compare this to Disney handling of Disney plus and Hulu

Now yes Disney plus app is have a hub for Hulu now. Which thank you, because I have the Disney plus bundle (I sharing it with other people. SHIT THE MOUSE IS COMING FOR ME!) but it sure as hell more convenient for me to use the Hulu hub than go out to another app to watch Hulu content

Though it FUCKING funny how my continue watching can have Disney plus alongside with seienin anime

But anyways, I can see why Sony did that because, both streaming services are niches and crunchyroll is just bigger

But I’m 23, any anime consumption…

Bitch back in the day most westerners anime fans had to watch cable TVs blocks like Toonami. Like my tv consumption were in flux. I didn’t have cable all the time and watch a lot of dvds especially in road trips. A lot of my anime consumption started by watch adult swim aired anime. Or if my family a little bit of money. Cable box where I watch Digimon on Disney old block Jetix

Actually the photo I sent you will probably help your other anime fans on how I consume anime

But anime streaming services…are niche af. Yes anime went mainstream in the west, but they can easily be gone instantly. Actually one of my favorite Drifters was taken off it streaming services. But I was able to get the blu ray

Sorry for the essay…I’m just SHOCKED on how bad certain people over reliance of streaming services is because I still really the twilight years of renting (grew up near a family video)

Thank you for liking my collection, perhaps other people will too

ya like I said I recognized the obvious ones, never really did much with anime.

As for all the services, it's a really weird thought that's come into my head watching all of this.

Most folks out in tumblr land probably won't remember when the "Bell System" was broken up.

The phone system in the US was a legal monopoly, until it wasn't a legal monopoly and the Fed broke it up into regional things and also opened things up to competition for a bit there were hundreds of different phone companies popping up offering the best price on local or long distance and all that good stuff.

Then they started to get absorbed by the bigger ones, still no return to the monopoly since that's not allowed but went from on choice to oddles of choices back down to just a few choices none of which were terrible.

Cellphones did that too when they showed up, was never a monopoly but there were tons of regional outfits selling service, that all got slowly bought up by larger and larger companies.

Cable and satellite TV as well as internet too.

I think we may be seeing that with streaming services, not really any tiny fly by night groups doing streaming services but there's only so many that can be out there before they stop being profitable, especially the niche ones.

Which I think that merger and the price hike that is coming with it is a thing that was basically inevitable, the price hike will reverse if history is any indicator, at leas so long as people remain pissed about it and don't sub.

That or they'll sell packages so you can customize what you want.

Either way I'm still with you on the need to rely less on streaming services, I feel the same way about the cloud, which I refuse to use, I know how to work around all that if the need arises.

#zoomer huey anon

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saltygilmores · 1 year

Text

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 13 ("A Tisket A Tasket") Part 3 of ????

Parts 1 & 2 and all of my previous pickings-apart can be found in my pinned post. Where we last left off, RoryGil appeared to be in deep contemplation about the current shitshow that is her life.

Rory and Jess embark on their Shitshow Picnic, then we cut to Jackson trying to buy Sookie's basket back from Kirk, who complains about the lack of carrot sticks in the basket before proceeding to trauma- dump on Jackson (not about carrots but about how no one loves him). Kirk also looks like he is questioning existence.

Jackson quickly whips out a checkbook which he apparently carries with him at all times (because it's 2002) and pays Kirk $250, and after popping that number into an inflation calculator, Jackson paid Kirk the 2023 equivalent of $423 for a picnic basket with no carrot sticks. Not only does Stars Hollow need group therapy I think they could use a group audit to see exactly where some of these people are getting their money.

As If a checkbook didn't age this show enough, the cut to a payphone immediately afterwards finishes the job quite nicely. You guys are waiting for that whole Rory and Jess on the bridge thing aren't you. Well, let's keep it moving then. It feels like a minute since we've heard some Luke Danes Wisdom. Lorelai (sitting in the gazebo with Luke): We're supposed to be eating a picnic on the ground. Luke: Every time I've seen a picture of people eating on the ground, I've thought, "What the hell are you people doing eating on the ground? Spring for some beach chairs ya cheapskates." Finding the payphone broken (which puts a dent in her complicated scheme to meet Henry), Lane comes running to Lorelai to ask if she has her cellphone. In the third moment of the show aging itself in under a minute, Lane asking Lorelai if she's carrying her cellphone reminds us that the few people who did have cellphones during this time period didn't always carry them 24/7. Somehow even though this is early 2002 Lane (and everyone else seen using a cellphone) manages to get perfect reception at a random spot of her choosng which is honestly pretty impressive for a town that I'm convinced is still a good 10 years away (at LEAST) from getting cable TV and moving away from dial-up internet.

"Morality in an ever-changing world." What do the people of The Hollow know about morality or world-changing? Stars Hollow never fucking changes. Ever. Changes? No one noticed Luke mis-spelled "tomatoes" on his menu board and let that shit slide for a good 6 years. The citizens thought a drawing in sidewalk chalk was the height of immorality. Well, maybe Lorelai could stand to listen to a sermon or two about the immmorality of sleeping with your daughter's underage boyfriend, but I digress. (I really wanted just wanted an excuse to write "Speaking of Satan" and introduce Dean back into the story, but instead it's Henry.

Because this show loves to do poor Lane so, SO SOOO dirty, Henry called Lane's house when she didn't call from the payphone as she promised. Much to Lane's relief, he somehow managed to trick Mrs Kim into thinking he was just a telemarketer and not A Boy (or so he thinks). But afer hearing Lane describe another insane scheme she's cooked up to hide him from her mother, he's tired of playing games.

Wahhhhh my heart breaks for Lane. In my gritty adult Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow all of the women who were dealt an unfair hand on this show will be made whole again. Lane will reunite with Dave or Henry and live happily ever after, Lindsay will have Dean Forrester's head in her freezer, and so on and so forth. Henry says he can't be breaking up with Lane because he's never actually been out with her. He says I want to be able to pick you up, get out of the car, take you out somewhere. And then he has to TWIST THE KNIFE IN MY POOR GIRL'S HEART JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE.

SPOILER ALERT/TRIGGER WARNING: UNABASHED CRUELTY AHEAD

*her I AM NO LONGER TEAM HENRY. THAT PIECE OF SHIT. That was the most heartbreaking thing I've witnessed on this show up to this point!!!! JUSTICE FOR LANE!!!!! LANE AND DAVE ONLY!!!!!! And the cherry on top of the Shit Sundae for poor poor Lane is that of course Mrs. Kim has caught on and is none too happy and they scream at each other.

This coat.... and these pants. *deep breath* Look, Jesstopher, I love you and you know you're the only fictional character I'd go to the ends of the earth for. And I'm sorry your uncle is clueless and wears the same thing every day and couldn't style another person no less a child to save his life and I'm also sorry that it's a miracle you even survived your Mom's parenting and she has a very busy schedule of Full Time Child Neglect so making sure her son wears properly fitting clothes is low on her list of prorities. I'm sorry neither cared enough to make sure you didn't look like Vincent Adultman from BoJack Horseman.

Another perfect "okuh" that no silent screen shot could ever capture.

When it comes to Rory and Jess, sometimes I like to quiet my Snark for a moment and just enjoy. Jess tells Rory that he bid on her basket because seeing Dean get annoyed makes him laugh. Any time Jess tries to annoy Dean to get closer to Rory, an angel gets its wings.

I know you don't, but when you're dating such a putz like Dean, That's kinda written in the contract. Date Dean Forrester, lose your will to live. Read the fine print. I just remembered there's still almost another full season left before Jess and Rory are officially dating.

The lighting in this scene is really beautiful to me, and the way the light hits MIlo's face here makes him look angelic.

I can never un-see Milo and Alexis falling in love in real life through their characters. Once you know it will never escape you. It will burrow into your brain, much like the worms in whatever slop Rory put into that Tupperware. I'm tempted to say Rory missed another opportunity to poison Dean's food (like the time she baked him cookies but didn't add poison to the batter), but since Jess ended up eating it instead and because it would be very obvious that she was the perpetrator since it was her basket, I won't hold it against her this time. Keep trying, Rory Gil.

Well, this screen shot isn't exactly going on the cover of People's Sexiest Men Alive magazine any time soon but he speaks the truest four words in Gilmoredom.

There are still 18 minutes left in this episode. HOW???!!! Part 4 coming whenever.

#denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #lane kim #jess mariano #literati #gilmore girls season 2 #a tisket a tasket #a-tisket a-tasket #Not Team Henry #ugly coat #ugly ass coat #ugli coat #dean is an idiot #justice for lindsay #justice for lane #Vincent Adultman

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mynotsohealthyobsession · 2 years

Text

That one night - Part 2/3

Book: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC

Words: 1.880

Warning: Angst

Part 2 of this fic! Tags, as always, in the reblog!

"What?" Amy said, grinning from his lap, taking her attention off the TV. He loved that bright smile of hers.

"Nothing, love." Adrian ran his fingers through her hair. "I'm just enjoying this moment with you."

"Me too." A few seconds passed as they kept looking at each other. Before long, she stood from the couch, sadly observing him. "It's a shame though. That we are going to lose this."

"What are you referring to?" She took a step back, but when he tried to follow her, his body kept firmly glued to the couch.

"Was it worth it?"

Another step back, more distance between them.

"What thing?"

She kept slowly walking backwards.

"Tell me, Adrian. Was it worth it? Your night with Isabella?"

His mouth went dry as he frantically tried to stand up from the damn sofa. "Amy…"

"You have lost me for a second time, Adrian." Her voice felt distant and the edges of her figure were blurred.

"It was a mistake, nothing more!"

"And this time, it was your fault."

He jolted on the bed, his ear buzzing with the voice of the Amy from his nightmare. He sat up, his back against the backrest, his fingers running over his face. His head hit the bedrest behind him as his eyes fell in the empty space beside him. He missed her so much.

Adrian had lived alone for centuries but two weeks without Amy had made him more miserable and lonely that he could remember. When the clock in the nightstand marked 4 am and he accepted he clearly wouldn't be capable of continuing to sleep. He stood slowly, heading to the bathroom. He pressed some buttons and started the shower, letting the hot water run down his back. By the time he entered his office, he was missing Amy with every step. He hadn't been conscious how used to their everyday routine he was until that moment.

***

"Come in." Hours later, there was a knock on Adrian’s door, without separating his eyes from the computer screen in front of him. The moment the door opened, he inhaled that sweet familiar scent and heard that warm heart beating. It's been two weeks since the last time he saw her. Two weeks without talking with her, without seeing her in the office everyday. Two weeks desperately missing her. "Amy." He stood, not sure of what to do.

"Hi." She closed the door behind her, leaning against it. She didn't approach him and barely looked at him. "I don't want to bother you so I'll be quick."

"You never could bother me, Amy." He was yearning to hold her, to kiss her. To tell her how badly every second away from her hurt. "And, if you allow it, I need to talk with you." He allowed himself to study her for a second. She was thinner and with bags under her eyes, popping up from under the make up. Her long hair fell from her shoulders shapeless, and she stared off, showing a sadness that seemed capable of stabbing his chest.

"Yeah, I need to talk with you too." Her eyes drifted to the couch quickly looking away, like she had seen something painful. "I just came from Human Resources. I took an indeterminate leave without payment. I need you to approve it."

"You didn't need to do that."

"They are going to hire a substitute assistant for you." She kept saying with a monotonous tone. "They wanted me to train them but I can't."

"Can I ask why?"

"I'm leaving for Japan tonight." He felt his soul drop and an ache in his chest. She not only was keeping her distance, she was putting more than 6.000 miles between them.

"I see."

"It's not what you think." She winced a little, massaging her temple with her fingers. "I mean, it partially it is."

"Are you alright?" Adrian watched her with concern.

"Yeah, It's just, since… That night… My psychic powers are out of control. I'm going to train with Kano."

"Please, tell me how I can help."

"You can't." She checked the time on her cellphone. "I have to go."

"Amy, wait." He took her wrist, gently and, even though a shudder ran through her body, she didn't reject him. Cutting the distance between them, he got closer, his fingers slipping down until they intwined with hers. "How long are you going to be there? Where are you going to stay?"

"I don't know how long. Akeyo offered me an apartment to stay in." He wanted to say so many things but it wasn't the right time. If he could only go with her, be certain that she would be safe instead of doing such a long trip alone. "I won't, Lily is coming with me." She gave him an apologetic look at his surprised face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to invade your mind. I can't control it."

"It's fine, Amy. Truly." She shook her head slightly and pulled her hand away.

"I really have to go." Adrian sighed, watching her with longlines as she turned to the door. She stood in place, her hand in the knob without pushing it open, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Is it always meanless for you? Even…" She cleared her throat. "Even when it's us?"

"Of course not. When it's with you, Amy, it's more than just sex." He made a tiny pause, trying to put into words his thoughts and feelings. "It's closeness, it's love."

"But you also enjoy it, right?" She looked at the floor, embarrassed. "That's not the reason why you…" She couldn't end the phrase and Adrian noticed the way she shook her head, clearly trying to empty her mind.

"No, Amy. Never." A sad smile lifted the corners of his lips, as some moments with her replied in his mind. "Everything is exciting with you, not only the sex. Even the tiniest or most silly thing. You make every second of my life enjoyable."

"I just can't understand why this is happening. I get the vampire part but… I just thought…" She took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter."

"I know that you need a motive to comprehend this situation. But believe me, the only truth about it it's that it was a poor decision based on an old habit." Adrian leaned against his desk, crossing his arms, deeply and guiltily sighing. "A foolish judgment." Amy stood in the same place without moving a muscle, biting her bottom lip, tensely holding the knob. "And something that I regret every single day since."

"I gotta go." She opened the door, about rushing outside.

"Amy."

"Yeah?" He noticed the effort she was doing to be composed.

"If you need anything at all while you are there, the jet or whatever, please call me." No matter how upset she was with him, he wanted to be sure she would be safe.

"Thank you." She turned, their stare looking in each other's eyes for a couple of seconds, and she finally left the office, closing the door behind her, taking the momentary warmth with her.

***

Amy threw her purse on the couch beside the door of the apartment. After being literally locked up with Kano training all day, he finally released her to rest. Her head pounded with the start of a headache. As she walked to the fridge, her phone bipped with a new text in her pocket. A rush of feelings struck her, like always, as she read Adrian's name in the notification bar. With a sigh, she opened it.

'I hope you are doing well.' Amy bit her inner cheek trying to keep her powers under control, forcing herself to not dwell in the upcoming vision of him having sex with Isabella. Adrian had contacted her just once or twice per week since she had left New York two months ago. She knew he wanted to give her space but also he was concerned for her.

'It's heading there. Thanks.'

After drinking a pack of cold blood, Amy stepped outside to the balcony. The view of Japan, incredible as always, opened up in front of her. She pushed the memories with Adrian to the back of her mind. After all this city had witnessed the moment their relationship went forward.

Some time later, she heard the front door and Lily walked inside the apartment.

"Amy?"

"Outside!" The characteristic 'pop' of an uncorked wine bottle came from the kitchen followed by Lily's step.

"I have exactly what you need." Amy chuckled as she passed her a glass of wine.

"Thanks."

"I love Japan at night." Lily said, admiring the million lights shining together.

"It's really pretty." Amy took another sip, getting lost in her thoughts for a while. "Lil, do you think I'm overreacting? About, you know… Adrian?" Amy watched the leftover of wine swirling in the glass, looking like blood under the darkness of the night.

"I don't think so." Lily took a thoughtful sip. "He loves you but he has lived for a long time. Old habits die hard."

"I try not to but I feel so betrayed. I…" She stopped to take a deep breath. "I don't want to feel like that and I don't know how to change it."

"Do you still love him?" Lily asked as Amy sat, lifting her legs and hugging them.

"Like the first day." She rested her cheek on her knee.

"In the end, that's all that it matters, Amy." Lily said, leaning against the rail of the balcony, observing her.

"I hope that's enough. I miss him. So much it hurts."

"He's probably lost without you."

Amy rolled her eyes. "He lived 200 years without me, Lil. He might miss me but that's it."

"You are mistaken there, Amy." Lily sat beside her. "After Gaius' attack he was destroyed. More than the vision showed you."

"Obviously." Amy answered bitery. "That's why he slept with another woman." She noticed her palms warmer with power so she took a deep breath to keep it in control.

"I'm not going to say that he didn't screw things up, cause he did." Lily swirled her drink before taking the last sip. "But you know he adores you. And that the guilt must be eating him alive."

"...I know."

"You two are going to fix this, if that's what you want. It's just going to take some time. And a very serious conversation between you."

"I hope you are right, Lil. I don't want to lose him but… If he wants an open relationship I don't know..."

"You won't lose him, Amy. But that's something you need to talk about with him." She squeezed her shoulder and stood, carrying her empty glass inside, giving her space.

Amy pulled her phone and unblocked the screen, opening his conversation, sadly smiling at his profile picture. Adrian just loved that silly photo of them as she held his face kissing his cheek. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, hesitating, and her teeth nibble the corner of her bottom lip. She didn't know if a second or an hour passed until her fingers moved on the screen, typing. It wasn't much but it was a start.

'By the way, Tokyo Tower says hi.'

✨

#choices stories you play #playchoices #choices fanfiction #adrian raines x mc #adrian raines #fanfiction writer #adrian x amy #adrian x mc #choices bloodbound #choices #pixelberry

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eldritchsurveys · 2 months

Text

1193.

When was the last time you admired some flowers? What kind/color were they? >> Earlier. There's a bunch of flowers in my yard and neighbours' yards that I think are just local wildflowers, but I don't know what their names are; also there were dandelions and tulips to admire. Spring really comes on rather suddenly when it comes to the growing part (the temperature part is much more fickle...). You wake up one morning and suddenly there are PLANTS

Are you in the process of watching or re-watching a series at the moment? >> I am watching The Wire, Riverdale, Foundation, and Jujutsu Kaisen for the first time, and rewatching Stargate SG-1 (well, it'll be a rewatch until I hit around season 5 or so), Red Dwarf, and Person of Interest. And while the first two seasons of Twin Peaks was a rewatch, I'm in The Return right now which is a first-time watch. I'm also finally finishing Steven Universe, slowly but surely (you'd think I'd have finished a show that has 10-minute episodes a long time ago but!)

If so, how many seasons does it have? And what season are you currently on? The Wire: 5 (3) Riverdale: 7 (2) Foundation: 2 (2) JJK: 1 I think SG-1: 10 (2) Red Dwarf: 12 (7) Person of Interest: 5 (5) Twin Peaks: 3 (3) Steven Universe: 5 (5) Has anyone you know gotten a new pet recently? >> No.

How old were you 10 years ago? Who were your closest friends at that point? >> I was 26 and my closest friends were Vlad, Sigma, and Sparrow.

Do you still speak to any of them? >> Vlad and I had a messy breakup, then Sigma and I had one a couple years later, and I live with Sparrow.

Have you ever kissed someone of another race? >> I've kissed a variety of people, yes. Are there any races you wouldn’t kiss? >> This notion is absurd to me.

What is your favorite thing about your best friend? . What do you mostly have in common with your best friend? . Do you like it when men shave their chests? If you are a guy, do you shave? >> I don't favour shaved bodies.

What is your favourite kind of video game? >> Narrative RPGs with deeply customisable player characters. When you’re visiting a site, do you still type “www.”? >> I haven't done that in a long, long time.

What can you hear right now? >> The sounds that can penetrate my noise-cancelling headphones -- namely, the heater, and the upstairs neighbour that just started clomping around literally right before I got to this question. Do you think it’s okay for kids to have cellphones? >> I don't care, really. Give them one or don't. There's positive and negative consequences with both decisions, pick which ones you can live with. Do you watch anime? If so, what are some of your favourites? >> I do. Kill La Kill, Kiznaiver, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Bungou Stray Dogs, Kimetsu no Yaiba, and I'd probably still like Ouran High School Host Club if I were to watch it again now.

Do you have any siblings? If so which one of them do you get along with the best? .

What’s your favorite TV show? And who’s your favorite character from it? >> I have no idea what my all-time favourite TV show is, I love so many. I'll just pick a favourite from the TV show I last watched: Alice Cooper (Riverdale). Have you violated any of the 10 Commandments? If so, what? >> I have violated like 5 of those Commandments. Which is fine because, as a non-Christian, I'm not beholden to them.

Do people think you look like either of your parents? Does that offend you? . Do you prefer regular bacon or turkey bacon? >> Regular.

Do you think it’s weird when people talk to their pets like people? >> It's normal to me because it's also what I do. I find the baby-talk stuff to be weird.

What is the last place, other than home, that you stayed overnight? >> Crowne Plaza Hotel in Indianapolis.

What is the furthest you have traveled alone? >> From NYC to Colorado and back (and there and back and there and back--). Have you ever dated someone simply for their looks? >> Sure, because when someone I don't otherwise know asks me out, what else do I have to go on to make my decision? (This was back when I did date that way, obviously. Right now, this concept is unfathomable to me.)

Have you ever been drunk? >> Sure.

What was the name of the main character in the last book you read? >> Annie O'Sullivan.

What are three of your favorite toppings for salads? >> For some reason I always blank on this, despite the fact that I love salad and salad toppings. All I can think of is feta. Do you prefer pizza or hot dogs? >> Definitely pizza.

What is your favorite pizza topping? >> Mushrooms.

Is your dad a jerk? .

Is anyone in your family currently in the military? .

What is your favorite dog breed? >> Pibbles.

Have you found any gray hairs on your head? >> I have quite a few grey hairs at this point, yeah. Not quite enough for a salt-and-pepper but definitely well on its way. Do you own a bikini? >> I don't. Never have. I'd like to, though, I think that would be fun. If you were a rockstar, what color guitar would you have? . Would you rather have a personal chef or personal house cleaner? >> I am desperate for a personal housecleaner.

Do you have any zits on your face right now? >> I do not.

What are three of your favorite bakery items? >> Another question I blank on very easily.

What are three creative hobbies you enjoy? .

What are three things you like about church? >> Architecture, basking in the heady vibes of religious fervour, music.

What was the last type of pie you ate? >> Whew, uh.... I have no idea. Maybe sweet potato? Which book did you love when you were younger? >> The Phantom Tollbooth, Many Waters.

Which book series could you read again? >> Well, certainly Madeleine L'Engle's Time Quintet.

Tell me about your first breakup, if you had one. .

Which person would you chose to travel the world with? .

Do you have (a) stuffed animal(s) sitting in your room? Which one(s)? >> I have like 30 stuffed animals in here, I'm not going to list them all.

Have you ever had to do a doubletake on someone ‘cuz they were so pretty? >> Absolutely. Is your last ex currently in a relationship? .

Who was the last female you were introduced to? . Who was the last male you were introduced to? .

Do you use a nightlight? >> I don't.

What’s your opinion on border control? >> Not a fan of borders in general.

What are your favorite things to create? >> Madness and chaos.

What’s something you prefer to keep private? >> My passwords?

Are you good at prioritizing? >> For my purposes and to my whims, certainly.

If you’re not religious, were you ever? What made you lose faith? >> I have always been some flavour of religious, but rarely affiliated with an organised one.

What feeling do you have the most difficulty in expressing? >> I think anger is the only one I have ease in expressing. The rest of them are all a struggle. When was the last time you looked at your significant other/crush’s Facebook profile? .

#surveys #survey #random survey

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djholt · 1 year

Photo

Family Reunion | Para

Featuring: Delilah, DJ, & Tucker Holt. Mentions of their parents (Jonathan & Scarlett Holt), and Tucker’s boyfriend (Cameron LaCava) Time Frame: Thanksgiving 2022 Location: New Orleans, LA // Los Angeles, CA // Boston, MA Triggers: Mentions of homophobia, biphobia, alcohol & death/loss Notes: The Holt siblings gather (over video call) for the holiday

DJ had been spending the past couple of days leading up to Thanksgiving catching up with friends and former colleagues while in LA. A former client of hers while at her old agency had invited her down for a ‘Friendsgiving’ and after some consideration, she’d accepted. While at the extravagant home and watching some of the other guests mill about, sipping beer and cocktails in small clusters, DJ had been half-heartedly watching a football game on the giant, 80″ flat screen TV. While she was happy to have been invited over and not spend Thanksgiving alone, she as a bit tired and contemplating a round of visits and ‘hellos’ before calling it an early evening and heading back to her hotel room to sleep. Or take advantage of the hotel’s heated pool for an hour.

It was at that very moment that DJ’s cellphone buzzed her hand. For a split second, she’d hoped that there hadn’t been any sort of work-related crisis happening. Thankfully, the alert was actually showing her sister’s name, photo, and a request for a video call.

Glancing around while thinking quickly, she excused herself from the party’s main indoor area and slipped into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind her. As she lowered the toilet lid and sat down, she answered the phone in a somewhat hushed tone, finding that her sister, Delilah, already had their brother, Tucker on the video call from his respective location.

“Hey! Happy Thanksgiving, Dolly!” Delilah piped up.

“Yeah, Happy Turkey Day. I love the haircut,” Tucker added, lifting his martini glass in a toasting gesture.

“Back at you both, and thanks, Tuck,” DJ replied, gibing her siblings a friendly smile.

“How’s Boston, Tucker?” Delilah asked.

“Just peachy, sis. Very historical. Way too cold to ever live here. We just finished having dinner. Cam’s family is still a little bit stuffy for my taste. Like I was regretting not wearing some pearls, but they’re nice people.”

DJ and Delilah chuckled at Tucker’s joking over the pearls. And then DJ asked, “How’s the adoption going?”

Right away, Tucker’s eyes widened and his lips stretched into a huge smile. “Amazingly! We should have our baby girl after the new year. You’re going to be aunties soooon!”

At his singsong announcement, DJ raised a hand on camera and said, “Already there thanks to Delilah but I’m happy to be an auntie again.”

Tucker gave a harmless but dismissive flick of his wrist at his sister’s technicality and then said, “Anyway, we’re so ready for her. Cam and I have been watching a lot of kids shows to prepare and Dolly? Nesting is definitely a thing. We’re not allowed to tease Delilah anymore.”

DJ rolled her eyes, while Delilah said, “Don’t worry, the baby factory over here is closed permanently. Three is plenty of kids for me. What about you, Dolly?”

DJ’s brows shot up, “Uhh, my baby factory never opened, so...”

Delilah chuckled and said, “Okay but are you seeing anybody? Are you thinking about settling down sometime soon? Maybe starting a family?”

With a sigh and a quick pause to make sure she wasn’t being overheard, DJ lowered her voice and told them both, “You do know that those things are requirements in life, right? I don’t think anything serious is happening for me right now, and I really don’t know on the kids front. I don’t exactly work the kind of job that’s conducive for the whole conventional family life.”

“Really?” Tucker questioned, tipping the martini glass to his lips. “For some reason, I thought you might want a child or two someday. If you did, I’m sure you’d figure out a way to make it work. Have it all and whatnot.”

Shrugging her slender shoulders, DJ replied, “I’m really focused on my career. And I love what I do. I’ve worked hard and love that I’m also successful at it and that’s not something I want to compromise. Besides, isn’t it a little backwards for me to jump to any sort of family planning when I’m still single? I mean, wouldn’t the Old Man keel over or ask God to smite me if I attempted having a child out of wedlock?”

Tucker couldn’t suppress an amused snort while Delilah’s face became immediately void of any amusement. With a gentle reproach, the eldest of the Holt siblings said, “Dolly...”

“What? Come on, Delilah. When has he ever approved of anything about me--who I am, what I do, any of that? I’m sure he’d have a conniption if he saw how short my hair is. And what if I were to pursue a serious relationship with another woman? Do you think it’d matter to him whether or not I’d want to have children? My relationship and any children would be abominations to him. Delilah, I know you choose not to speak ill of the man, but you only have secondhand experience to what Tucker and I went through when it came to our sexualities and Dad’s behavior towards us. I’m not ashamed of who I am or who I might end up in a relationship with. And I’m not going to submit myself or anyone important to me to his judgments.”

Taking a deep breath, DJ reminded herself to keep her voice low but she continued on. “He claims to love me but he doesn’t show it. Blowing up my phone around the holidays or his birthday, leaving me voicemails where he’s making digs or attempted guilt trips if I don’t answer or call back right away? That’s not love. Standing firm over some biblically-charged misgivings on non-heterosexuality to fuel his phobias or beliefs that two of his kids are absolutely going to hell? That’s not love. He can make the claim that he loves us but he has a horrible way of actually showing it. The only reason I’ve catered to him on any level with returning or answering calls has been for Mama, for her memory. But after this year, I’m not doing it anymore. I’ll find a different way to honor her--a way that doesn’t include his type of conditional love.”

Delilah frowned but said nothing. Tucker proceeded to down the rest of his very full martini glass.

The silence stretched on into uncomfortable territory, so DJ said, “Listen, I have to get going. I was invited to this Friendsgiving shindig and so far I’ve either been a wallflower or hiding out in a guest bathroom talking to you two. I love you both, but let’s talk again sometime before the weekend’s up, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Tucker replied, lifting his empty glass in mock toast to the screen.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. And Dolly, Tucker, listen. Y’all know I love you, right?” asked Delilah.

“‘Course we do,” Tucker said.

DJ’s expression softened a bit but she didn’t offer her siblings a smile as she said, “I know. I love y’all too. And as much fun as hiding out in a bathroom at someone else’s party sounds, I really should get going.”

Tucker chuckled and Delilah said, “Oh, right, right! Sorry! We’ll talk again soon. Both of you take care.”

“Always,” Tucker sassed.

“Give my hellos and such to Cam, Jackson and the kids.”

Tucker and Delilah spoke confrimations over one another before all three ended the video chat. DJ sighed, thinking about the turn the conversation had taken with her siblings, namely with Delilah. She knew that, despite her eldest sister loving and accepting her and Tucker for all of who they were, her sister was by far the least resistant of their bigoted father and always tried to mend the broken bridges between them. DJ gave up actively trying to get her sister to see sense and give up said crusade, but she also wasn’t going to listen to Delilah’s attempts at getting her to even pretend to be loving towards their father. She hadn’t seen him as an actual father for a very, very long time. Thanksgiving certainly wasn’t going to change that.

Having coached actors, musicians and at one point, a local politician through public relations and putting on a strong faces when they weren’t really in the mood or mindset to, she took her own advice, slapped on a convincing smile, and washed her hands before heading out of the bathroom the rejoin the Thanksgiving festivities--and try to put the bulk of the video call behind her.

#para #Family Reunion para #homophobia tw #biophobia tw

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milarqui · 10 months

Text

Scarlet Lady: Troublemaker

Directory | Anansi

She was normally a busy woman, but today looked to be even busier than normal.

“Down, Fang! Uh, I need an assortment of macarons, please,” she told to the hotel worker that had come at her request.

“Oui, Mlle. Penny,” Armand replied, as she realized she was still talking on the phone.

“No, not you,” she apologized, “please confirm that red-eye flight–”

“Hey, I got the perfect way to market the new album!”

And, of course, she just couldn't relax at all, as Jagged's manager suddenly showed up out of the blue, not even bothering with a call.

“Bob, I don't think–” she tried to say, but Bob Roth, being what he was, ignored her.

She rushed back to the main room, knowing that a fight was about to take place.

“Seriously?! You want me on Rockstar Wants a Wife?! That show's the opposite of rock'n roll!”

“That's what sells, Jagged!”

Yeah, they were now throwing stuff at each other.

“I'll call you back,” she said, hanging up and running in before they broke something that ended up costing them even more bills from the hotel.

She grabbed Jagged before he could throw a football at Bob,

“Jagged, what about–” and she told him the idea that had just sprung in her mind, from one of the shows she had watched last week. His demeanor instantly changed, and he dropped the ball to hug her.

“Such a rock'n roll idea!” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You're the best Penny!”

She loved it whenever he got like this, all happy and romantic and–

“Ugh, don't be saps right in front of me.”

And that was when she was reminded what she hated of Bob Roth.

----

She was normally a busy young lady, but today looked to be even busier than normal.

“C'mon, Manon, give it back! The deadline's tomorrow and I still have homework to do!” she begged.

The little girl, who clearly didn't understand the concept of being good for once, just laughed as she jumped around her room, wearing the hat she had been crafting.

“You look stressed, My Queen,” Pollen whispered from her hideyhole in her hair.

“I got double booked again!” she complained. “I've become so scatterbrained since taking on more as Marigold.”

And it had been a mess ever since. Between collège work, her class president duties, designing, helping at the bakery, babysitting, and now heroism, she barely even had the time to plan out how to do everything else!

Just then, her cellphone rang, and she briefly stopped her attempts to corner Manon to check.

“Huh?” The image on the phone was completely unexpected. “O-Oh my God, it's Jagged Stone's manager!”

As she picked up, she took advantage of Manon's distraction to finally grab the hat off the girl's head.

“Marinette! Phone!” Manon begged, but she ignored it.

“H-Hello?”

“Marinette?”

“Yes!”

“It's me, Penny Rolling!”

“Hi, Mlle. Penny!”

“Look, can you ask your parents something?”

“Huh?”

“I need to know if they want to show up in a TV show with Jagged.”

“A TV show?”

----

“Welcome to 'Fill My Shoes'! With our guest, the one and only, Jagged Stone!”

“Rock'n roll!” the rockstar exclaimed.

“Filling the shoes... of a baker!”

It hadn't taken Penny much to convince Tom and Sabine to allow the program to film (live, much like every other TVi program) on their bakery, and right now Tom was taking charge of showing how things were run in there, while Sabine brought out a platter full of croissants for the people coming for the program.

“Would you like a hot croissant?” she asked.

Bob Roth picked one and ignored the baker, not even bothering to thank her.

The cameraman just ignored her.

“Rude bunch, aren't they?” Sabine asked her daughter, who had decided this was the perfect occasion to wear her best uniform.

“C'mon, Maman, they're just busy,” Marinette mollified her. “Just think of what this'll do for the bakery!”

The iron grip of Sabine Cheng's right hand quickly held around Marinette's cheeks and jaw.

“It's rude to turn down hot food from your hostess!” she irately replied.

“Y-Yes, 媽媽,” Marinette mumbled back.

Meanwhile, Jagged Stone had picked up a large baguette, a croissant and a pair of other things from the counter and was holding them together in a particular form.

“Check out my edible guitar!” he joked, as he mimicked playing an electric guitar, singing. “Flour~! Eggs and butter~!”

Penny – who was holding onto Fang – laughed, causing the Cheng ladies to turn to her.

“Seems like working with Jagged Stone is fun,” Sabine noted, and Penny nodded.

“He's wonderful!” the aide replied, her cheeks blushing. “Never a dull moment, such creative ideas, always thinking of his fans, always pays his child support in time–”

“Wait, Jagged has kids–?”

“You didn't hear that,” Penny said, her demeanor now rock solid and calm, as she moved the pages on her clipboard until she found something she showed the women. “Also please sign this NDA.”

----

As Adrien sat down, table with cheese for his Kwami companion ready, said Kwami companion turned to him.

“There's no cheese on this show, why are you watching it?” Plagg asked through the Camembert piece he was already inhaling.

“They're filming at Marinette's place!” Adrien replied, just as the camera turned to look precisely at the girl he liked so much.

“Yo, Marinette, my favorite little lady! Get on stage with us!” Jagged Stone said to a surprised Marinette, who looked somewhat uncomfortable as she waved back.

“Uh?! Oh, heheh!” she awkwardly said as Mme. Cheng encouraged her to step forward.

“Marinette's really talented, you know! She made the cover of my last album!” the singer declared, while Adrien just drank in the wonderful, wonderful appearance of his friend-slash-crush-slash-love-of-his-life.

“Omigod, her widdle uniform!”

----

“Impressive! A family of artists!” Alec Cataldi declared.

“Tch!” Chloé grumbled, clearly not getting what she wanted once more.

For a moment, it looked like she might, when Marinette accidentally threw a bag of flour at Jagged Stone's head... but then the rock'n'roll singer smiled.

“Hey, look! I'm a ghost! Rock'n boo!” Jagged said, and then he tackled Alec, who was smiling as well.

“We'll be back after the break.”

“BOO!” Jagged said again as the transmission turned to commercials.

“Ugh, I only wanted to watch this dumb show to see Dupain-Cheng mess up, not to hear her praises!” Chloé complained, as was her wont whenever she didn't get what she wanted.

“But Chloé, don't you remember?” Tikki said, eager to needle her bearer.

“What?”

“It's thanks to you that Jagged Stone even met Marinette!”

Chloé immediately put her hands to her face as she tried to forget how she had helped the person she most hated in the world.

“Nooooo! Don't remind me!”

----

Back at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, Penny managed to impose some sort of order and pulled a whistling Jagged away from Alec.

“Where's the bathroom?” Penny asked Marinette, who pointed to the stairs.

“Upstairs!”

“Merci!” she replied, leading her charge.

However, they didn't notice that they were going too far upstairs until they reached a place that was very clearly not a bathroom.

“Uhh, I think we went too far up,” Penny said, as they looked around the place they had arrived. Jagged, however, had other things in mind.

“This must be her bedroom! Cool!” he said, as he started to check things.

“Oh, a sink!” Penny noted, taking the rag she had been loaned by Marinette's mother and wetting it before brushing off the flour off Jagged's hair.

“Penny, look! Marinette's seriously talented!” Jagged stated, looking at what was clearly a set of designs made by Marinette.

“U-huh.” Penny felt awkward, as she realized they were intruding into Marinette's personal space, which was something they really shouldn't be doing.

Jagged did not have the same epiphany, however,

“This one would look great on you!”

“Focus on getting back to set!”

Unfortunately for everyone involved into the matter, other people had different ideas in mind.

“Returning live with Jagged Stone 'Filling the Shoes' of a baker!” Alec declared, followed by the camera crew as they also entered Marinette's room in total disregard of her intimacy. “Let's see if our rockstar got rid of his flour!”

Before she could tell them off for it, though, Jagged played it off for the cameras and pointed at one of the walls.

“Hey, there's more pics of Chat Noir than me!” he joked. “Marinette, you got a thing for Paris' coolest cat?”

----

Back in the Agreste Mansion, one Adrien Agreste had something to say to that.

“YES!”

----

Back at the Dupain-Cheng's home, one Marinette Dupain-Cheng had a very different opinion of the matter.

“NO!” she shouted, embarrassed that her room was being bared to the entire world.

----

Back again at the Agreste Mansion, in a secret underground floor, Paris' supervillain gasped.

Then, Hawkmoth realized something.

“Wait, why am I gasping, I already knew that.”

----

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” Marinette yelled with the righteous fury of someone who had seen her intimacy violated in such a way.

Particularly when she was seeing Alec Cataldi picking and wearing the half-finished hat she had been working on earlier, as if it were in the wardrobe of his studio instead of someone else's room.

“Hey, Marinette! Want me to sign my poster?” Jagged, who once more showed a lack of ability to read the room, asked.

“I WANT YOU OUT!” Marinette yelled again, turning to the camera crew. “AND YOU! STOP FILMING! What is WRONG with you?!”

----

“Penny, do something!”

Oblivious to (or, more likely, interested in seeing) Marinette's distress, Chloé just munched on popcorn.

----

“You all heard the lady–!” Penny declared as she pushed Bob Roth away, but in process someone pulled on the cord connecting the camera to the transmission equipment.

“Penny, you cut the feed!” Alec admonished her.

“Uh–”

“Wait, get out first!” Marinette demanded as she opened her trapdoor again.

“Penny, give me the cord!”

“ACHOO!” Jagged sneezed. “Penny, I need a tissue!”

“C'mon, we're live!”

“PLEASE LEAVE ALREADY!”

“ACHOO!”

It felt like a pressure cooker in the room.

Something had to give.

And this time...

“EVERYBODY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

… it was the overwhelmed Penny.

Everybody silently filed down, out of Marinette's room, and as she closed the trapdoor Bob Roth chose to make his personality shine once more.

“What do we do now?” he asked, unconcerned.

“Film in the bakery, like you're supposed to!” Penny yelled as she opened the closest door, pen in the other hand. “Try to survive for five minutes.”

And, entering what appeared to be a library room, she slammed the door, collapsing on the ground with a long, stressed sigh, as she attempted to regain control over herself.

----

“Oh, bless up. I don't have to akumatize the girl,” Hawkmoth said as he commanded the butterfly to go for the older woman. “That's just begging for Chat Noir to show up at my door.”

----

Pollen carefully approached her Queen, who was shrunk against the wall, shaking from both anger and shame.

“My Queen, let's just talk it out, okay?” she gently said.

“They showed my Chat Noir photos, my half-finished dresses, and my month-old designs!” It didn't look like she was ready to 'talk it out'. “My fashion career is ruined! I should've burned those old designs!”

“That's simply not true!” Pollen said. Her Queen should have to destroy such wonderful things! “Jagged Stone loved them!”

“If Chat Noir sees, he'll know I'm in love with him!”

“You think so?” she asked, not sure of what was wrong with that.

----

Plagg had had many types of bearers. Some good, some bad. And sometimes just a bit irritating.

And Adrien, who was normally the best, now was approaching that last category.

“Should I go see her?! No, no, it's too soon. I should order roses! Should I get red this time?!”

“Ugh.”

Seriously, why did his kittens have to become lovesick?

----

As soon as the crew and guest went back downstairs, Bob Roth found himself under the glares of the bakery's owners, but he couldn't care less about them.

“Alright, back to work!” he ordered.

“No! We want to stop!” Tom Dupain replied.

“WHAT?!”

“We agreed to film in the bakery, not in our private home!” Sabine Cheng said, full of righteous anger. “And now you've upset our daughter! Completely unacceptable!”

“The ratings are blowing up, we're not stopping now!” Roth replied, unconcerned by the legitimate demand.

As an answer, Sabine picked up the bakery shovel and glared at the manager.

“YOU WANT TO START SOMETHING, M. BOB?!” she challenged, all too ready to go medieval on the unscrupulous man.

“Huh?” Said man was clearly unaware of the danger about to be unleashed on his person.

“I DEMAND YOU APOLOGIZE!”

However, before Bob Roth could actually awaken to the fact he was about to have a close encounter with the wooden implement, the outside doors were locked up.

“Ah, the doors!” Tom shouted, having easily recognized the beeping sound.

“You could've told us the bakery was haunted!” Bob Roth begged, sweating out of his brow.

“Uh, it's not!” Tom replied – only for one of their flour bags to start flying around covering everything in white dust.

“Ahh!” Sabine shouted in shock.

“What is happening?!”

And, with no warning, the answer showed up right behind Jagged Stone, in the form of a woman with a long mohawk, heavily painted-on face, and a total lack of damns to give about anything.

“Hey.”

“WAAAAAHH!” the singer screamed. Then again, the man had a reason for it – the Akuma had not even had the decency to

“There's no more Penny to solve your problems, Jagged! The untouchable Troublemaker will make sure you have nothing but problems!” the Akuma declared, clicking on her pen twice.

----

“Poor Penny was so busy trying to save everyone that she became a target for Hawkmoth!” Pollen noted, worried about the gentle woman.

“Good thing I'm here to save her!” Marinette stated. “Buzz On!”

----

“Oh! Look! Akuma at the bakery! Gotta go!” Adrien exclaimed, while Plagg rolled his eyes.

“I can tell you're real choked up about it,” he remarked.

----

“C'moon, Chloé, let's goooo!” poor Tikki said, pushing Chloé to stand up.

“Ughhhh.”

Chloé wasn't exactly interested in moving from her seat.

----

It only took Chat Noir a few minutes to reach his goal, Tom & Sabine's Boulangerie, aided by his memorizing of the best way between his home and Marinette's home, and acrobatically landed right on the red carpet that had been laid down for the program.

“Hi everyone!” he greeted Mme. Chamack and those who had already arrived to check what was going on. “Stand aside, this'll be a piece of cake–”

“Or you could try the door!” he heard his partner exclaim, and as he looked up, he saw her standing near the terrace Marinette liked to use.

“Marigold!”

“H–Hey, Chaton!”

He reached her in just the two jumps, and smiled, noticing that she looked a bit nervous.

“You sure got here fast!” he commented, deciding that it probably was nothing.

“O–Oh, you too!” Marigold replied, and he realized what was happening.

“You must've been watching the show too!”

----

Marigold turned so Chat Noir couldn't see her distraught face.

NOOOO! He saw it!

Why couldn't he have been watching sports or cartoons?

Regardless of her desire to just let the earth swallow her up, they had to deal with the Akuma, so she opened the window and led Chat Noir into her bedroom. Which, unfortunately, brought him next to the reason for her embarrassment.

“Wow, I didn't notice the photos of me the last time we were here!”

Why can't you keep not noticing? she wondered, really hoping that the Akuma would show up and allow herself to be dealt with fast.

She quickly got half of her wish, as Troublemaker came through the floor and threw a cushion at her, which she just barely dodged.

“HA!”

“AH!”

“Look here!” Chat Noir exclaimed... grabbing a photograph. “Hey, what do you think this means, huh? All these pictures–”

While he looked super-adorable with his cheeks blushing and wide-open eyes, Marigold knew that this was not the moment for this, so she just put a hand over his mouth.

“I think you should pay attention!”

As Chat Noir gingerly dropped the photo he had picked up, Marigold pulled out her top and swung it at Troublemaker, who clicked her pen.

And, much to her shock, the top went through her and hit the wall before bouncing back.

“She goes intangible!” Chat Noir realized. “So troublesome!”

“Vanisher knock-off!” Marigold shouted, pulling the top back towards her.

“Touch me if you can. Bye~” Troublemaker taunted them, before falling through the floor and out of their sight.

“The Akuma's in her pen!” It was the most obvious solution, given how she kept clicking it, turning her intangibility on and off.

“Fat load of good it does us without Scar!” Chat Noir complained.

“Where is she?!”

----

“Can I get five more of these blonde bitches?” Scarlet Lady said, showing the small popsicle made resembling her, but in a cartoony style. As expected, they were the best ones of the lot!

----

As both of them tried to keep an eye on where Troublemaker might come from, Chat Noir noticed something coming from behind Marigold, and turned to see the Akuma getting her hands close to the Bee Comb.

“Look out!” he yelled, swinging his staff at her. “Swiper, no swiping!”

Marigold tripped trying to dodge, but at the same time it forced Troublemaker to back off from her.

“Grrr,” the Akuma growled, clicking her pen again and falling through the floor again.

“T–Thanks, Chaton!”

“Careful, Goldie, you've got the easiest to remove Miraculous!” Chat Noir warned her, giving out a chuckle. “Maybe you should glue it down.”

Marigold felt the epiphany coming, and picked him by his face, sparkling.

“Chat Noir, you're a genius!”

“Wha, what'd I say?”

----

Marigold quickly explained her idea, and picked up a bottle of heavy-duty glue she normally used for holding stuff together in her practice designs, asking Chat Noir to help her cover her comb with it.

Just in time, though, as Troublemaker dropped from the ceiling on top of Marigold.

“Hahaha!”

“AH!” Marigold screamed in shock.

“Good Lord!” Chat Noir joined, just as Troublemaker fell on Marinette and trapped her against the floor.

But, when the Akuma went on to pull the comb away, she found that she couldn't force it.

“Huh–?! What?! Why won't this budge?!” she exclaimed, tugging the magical comb without success.

“Looks like you're stuck,” Marigold said with an impish grin, before readying her weapon. “Venom~”

“NO–!”

But it was too late: Troublemaker had been too slow to react, and the paralyzing effects of Marigold's power had quickly taken a hold of her. Chat Noir grabbed the Akumatized object.

“Everything goes smoothly when I stick with you, Honeybee,” he said, smiling.

Marigold was not smiling, though.

“Help, I glued it to my hair tie, I can't move!”

Helping his partner stand up – even with dealing with the dead weight of Troublemaker – he pulled his staff again.

“Alright, let's see what's keeping the royal pain,” he said, calling Scar.

Immediately, both of them heard a very familiar music tone right above them.

Chat Noir marched off to the trapdoor that led to the terrace, and slammed it open – to see Scar laying down on Marinette's chaise-lounge without a care for the world.

His temper frayed up quickly.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?!”

“WAH–!”

----

Fortunately, it only took a push for Chat Noir to force Scarlet into the bedroom (even if Marigold would rather keep her at least one kilometer away from there) and then a move to snap the pen, freeing the Akuma and allowing Scarlet to fix everything up.

As Penny woke up and realized where she was, she looked up to them.

“W–What happened? Where's Jagged?” she asked, and Marigold smiled at her.

“Stuff Jagged,” she replied. “How are you?”

“I... I let myself get stretched too thin. I took on too much,” the young woman realized. “I should remember to look after myself too. I'm fine now.”

“I'm a pro at self-care,” Scarlet declared. “Just buy yourself a diamond phone case! You'll feel better.”

“Uhh...” Penny mumbled, unable to understand where the girl was coming from.

As for Marigold, she figured it explained so much about Scarlet's attitude.

----

As they sent Penny downstairs, the heroes came out to the terrace and gazed upon Paris after saving the day once more (well, at least two thirds of them did).

And one of them looked up to the sky, thinking over the previous conversation.

“Stretched too thin, huh...” Marigold mumbled.

“You say something?” Chat Noir asked, and she shook her head.

“Oh, no, nothing,” she answered.

“Hm.” Then he took on a quizzical look. “I hope Marinette is okay.”

“EEP!”

“I wonder where she went.”

“Probably in a hole, dying of embarrassment! Ha Ha ha!” Scarlet laughed, and Marigold had to hold back her rising murderous intentions.

I'd rip your Earrings off if there weren't reporters nearby, she ruthlessly thought.

----

By the time Penny came back to the bakery, everything was fixed up, everyone was calming down, and Bob Roth looked as unconcerned with what he had indirectly caused as with everything else.

“U–Um, hello everyone,” she said.

“PENNY!” Jagged Stone shouted, quickly walking up to his aide. “I'm so glad you're back to normal! I'm sorry I didn't notice I was driving you so hard.”

The worry and sorrow in his voice were sincere, so much that Penny knew the man(-child) in front of here was being truthful in his apology, so she thought she could forgive him.

“Jagged...”

Jagged pulled her between his arms, hugging her with strength and care, as he spoke into her ear.

“I'll look out for you like you look out for me,” he promised, and she basked into the feeling as she nodded.

“Mm.”

“Also, the mohawk was hawt.”

Good feelings gone.

“I am not shaving my head for you.”

“Damn.”

----

With the TV crew finally on their way out (and some copious buying of produce as apology for the chaos they had caused) the Dupain-Cheng family was finally left alone to deal with the aftermath.

Which was when Marinette decided she needed to bring out the thing that had been on her mind since Penny's comment.

“Maman, Papa, I need to talk to you about something,” she said, fidgeting in place.

“Okay...?” Papa asked, confused.

“I... I...” she stumbled, but then she took a deep breath. “I need you to ask before volunteering me to babysit! And I can't drop everything to help in the bakery! I–I mean, I'll still help out, I just need notice! With Jagged promoting me, I've gotten real busy, on top of being class pres–”

“Okay,” Papa replied.

“Huh?!” she said, her tirade breaking in the middle, much to her confusion.

“Sure, no problem,” Maman added.

“Seriously?! It was that easy?!”

----

Now that they were back at home, Plagg was attacking a piece of cheese with his usual enthusiasm, while Adrien just laid down on his couch, taking a break after the recent crisis.

“Not gonna visit your lady love?” Plagg teased him, but he knew not to fall for that bait.

“After everything, I don't want to overwhelm her. And I thought more about it...” he replied, smiling at the thought of the girl he loved. “If it were me, that's not how I'd want Marinette to learn I'm in love with her. She should confess the way she wants to.”

Just as his phone dinged with a message, he heard Plagg chuckle.

“Pretty presumptuous, aren't you.”

“IF! If she's in love with me!” he corrected himself, embarrassed, before checking his cellphone. “Huh, a message from Alya...?”

----

The next day, Marinette carefully snuck around the school, because she really didn't want to deal with her friends' reaction to the previous day's events.

The fact that she had come much earlier than usual helped.

“Thank God no one's here,” she whispered as she reached her locker.

“Hey, Marinette.”

“AHHH!” she screamed, lamenting that she had been proven wrong so quickly. “How do you do that?!”

Much worse, Adrien ignored the question.

“So...”

“Don't,” she warned him.

“Um–”

“Do not.”

“... about the photos.”

“AHHH!” she shouted, covering her ears and turning around so Adrien wouldn't see her blush. “You said it!”

Adrien patiently waited for her to calm down, and when she did, she decided she needed to keep him from getting ideas.

“It's not what you think, okay?! I... I'm not in love with Chat Noir!”

“HRK!” she heard Adrien squeak, even as she dealt with the fact that she had just dropped a big fat lie.

“Besides, it's too dangerous to be with a superhero while supervillains are still around,” she explained. “So, Chat Noir and I are just...”

She couldn't say it.

“He's just...”

She tried to force it out.

“He's just a frie– HRK!”

Oh, great, now she had blood coming out of her mouth.

----

Meanwhile, Adrien was having something else in mind, linked to his highly developed list of priorities.

I HAVE TO DEFEAT HAWKMOTH A.S.A.P!

----

Their moment was interrupted by the usual suspect.

“Wow, gutsy of you to show your face, Dupain-Cheng!” Chloé yelled. “If I just showd all of Paris I had the world's biggest crush on the world's biggest loswer, I wouldn't leave my room until I was 50!”

“Ugh,” Marinette growled, wishing she could just throw a flour sack on her face.

“The only loser here is you, Chloé,” Alya declared as she arrived on scene.

“Ridiculous!” Chloé shouted, but Marinette didn't care, not when she saw what her friends were doing.

“Chat Noir is dead even with Scarlet Lady in the popularity polls,” Alya added, leading the class in wearing Chat Noir-themed clothes and accessories.

“WHAT?!” Chloé yelled again, completely unable to comprehend that people liked the true hero of Paris above that lazy glory hog.

“Y–You guys, what–?” Marinette asked, but Alya interrupted.

“WHAAAAT? We're just showing our Chat Noir love, same as you!”

Then she leaned to whisper in her ear.

“I convinced most of them it's just a celebrity crush and the rest are covering for you,” she said. “This'll get people off your back!”

She straightened up again, and put a hand to her cheek.

“The poor Kit-Kat doesn't get the recognition he deserves, doncha think?”

Marinette felt like crying. Her best friend was so wonderful!

“Oh, Alya!” she exclaimed.

“You're right, he doesn't!” Adrien exclaimed... also crying.

“Why are you so emotional?” Alya asked, confused.

----

As everyone else filed into the room, Alya pulled Adrien aside to check on something very important.

“Adrien, my dude, my guy, my spot of sunshine.”

“Y–Yes?” Good, he knew he was in trouble.

“You were supposed to wear Chat Noir stuff in solidarity. Did you understand the assignment?”

“Now, see, I have a very good explanation for that.”

“Mhm?” It better be a good explanation. Or else.

“My dad is Gabriel Agreste.”

“... ah.”

Alright, he gets a pass.

----

Intermission 2

@zoe-oneesama Here's to someone making enough trouble for Gabriel Agreste to ruin his plans!

Also: 420 pages, 167435 words, 902000 characters.

#scarlet lady the novel #fanfiction #milarqui #long post #marinette dupain cheng #marigold #adrien agreste #chat noir #penny rolling #troublemaker #adrinette #chatgold

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