Tumgik
#and her boyfriends are fully aware of her weirdness and fucking love it
wardenparker · 6 months
Text
Vampire Waltz - ch 4
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Tumblr media
A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Mentions of car accident (resulting in death), trauma reactions, talk of family dynamics, plenty of secrets still being kept. Summary: Time spent with Allison and the coven is becoming more frequent, but a surprising time alone with Max is what will be on your mind for a while... Notes:  Apologies for any errors that I missed in this chapter, my dears. I'm still on the mend so I admit my editing isn't quite up to par. I hope you enjoy anyway! 🧛‍♂️ This week we've got a photo of the upstairs sitting room in Dolly's lovely mansion.
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3
Tumblr media
The next few days, Max stays away. Confused as to why he had decided to spend Mabon as a bat on your shoulder during a witch's celebration instead of doing vampire things. He had missed a few parties in some neighboring cities but once he had gotten there, he hadn't wanted to leave your side. Something that was not Max. That, and now he's getting weird looks from Mrs. Taylor. As if she is waiting for him to tell her something and he doesn't know what the fuck that is. So instead of interacting, he stays away, concentrating on work.
It’s made the atmosphere in the house a little more tense than it needs to be, something which you’re so unfortunately used to that at first you find the tension more comfortable than everyone’s kindness. It’s not new to you, to have a man in close proximity who barely speaks to you, so you begin to adjust to the idea that Max just doesn’t like you very much.
******
"What is with you?" Eddie doesn't bother knocking, making Max scowl as he looks up from his magazine.
"Can't a man get a little privacy?" He grumbles, slapping the pages together and huffing at the other vampire. "What the fuck did I do now? I've been busy and on my best behavior."
“You’ve been sulking most of the time and extra snarky the others,” Eddie observes, coming fully into the upstairs sitting room where Max had been reclined on a sofa with his copy of GQ.
"I've been perfectly fine." Max sniffs, rolling his eyes and opening the magazine again. He has no interest in being questioned. "If someone takes offense to being busy, that's not my fault."
“You’re avoiding her.” It’s pretty obvious to the rest of the household, to the point where even Mr. Finchley had noticed and commented on the situation.
"Who?" Max asks, as if he isn't aware of who Eddie is referring to. As if he hadn't consciously rearranged his schedule so he wouldn't run into you.
“Dolly.” He’s not afraid of you overhearing this little exchange because you’re currently out with Allison getting a driving tour of your new island home, so he doesn’t bother closing the door behind him when he plops down in his favorite armchair.
"Come in. Make yourself comfortable." Max grunts sarcastically, shooting Eddie an unhappy look. He would rather the other vampire be anywhere else other than bothering him. "Since when is not dancing for the little human being rude?" He demands when Eddie doesn't move, just lifts a brow at him and waits.
“You haven’t even been eating dinner with us.” Not that it hasn’t made time for plenty of light conversation, but it still makes Eddie frown. “At least eat with us tonight? I think she feels like she did something wrong. Like you hate her.”
He doesn't want to. Doesn't want the feeling that rides under his skin when you are near. Like an itch he couldn't possibly scratch, even if he tore his skin off. Still....the idea that you would think you had done something wrong sits like a stone in his stomach. "I don't know her." He reminds Eddie. "How could I hate her?"
“I didn’t say I thought that,” the other vampire reminds him. “But she’s obviously been through some things and reassurance doesn’t hurt.”
Max huffs, wanting to say something snarky about needing reassurances, but then he remembers how happy you were that night around the fire. You had stroked his little bat wings and petted him while laughing and talking. He hates the idea of you slipping back into the shell of the quiet mouse you had been when you arrived. "Fine." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll make an appearance. Happy now?"
“Yes, thank you.” Eddie isn’t above using a little guilt here and there to make progress with Max, mostly because he knows that his fellow vampire has a surprisingly big heart carefully packed away under those bespoke suit layers. “I’ll let Mrs. Taylor know. She’s got a big bowl of that Italian chocolate pudding she makes with blood chilling in the fridge downstairs.”
"Oh thank god." Max wrinkles his nose. "I've been getting bored with take out." He smirks at his own little joke and looks back down at his magazine. "Now if you don't mind...."
“Looking for fashion tips for the coven’s masquerade?” Eddie lifts himself from the chair but doesn’t make a move to leave, teasing Max instead. “You know those are costume parties, right?”
Max's eyes cut over to Eddie, narrow and suspicious. "No." He snaps. "When do I have to be looking for fashion tips?" He asks, letting go of one side of the magazine to gesture to his resplendent outfit. "Maybe I'm trying to figure out how to tell you that you dress like a sad virgin." He shoots back with a pout. He's wondering why the hell Eddie would mention a coven function to him. Not like he had plans to attend.
“90s grunge is cool again,” Eddie informs him with a smirk, not bothered for even one second that Max is being pouty again.
"Go away." He rolls his eyes and flaps his magazine again, trying to ignore Eddie. Finding one of the outfits in the magazine perfect for the party but purposefully turning the page.
“Aww.” Even tutting, Eddie is laughing when he turns away. “Somebody’s got a vein in his fang. Don’t worry, Maxy. You’ll be cool one day, too.”
"Fuck you too!" Max shouts after the annoying vampire. It was a shame that he kept telling Max that he couldn't kill Eddie. Apparently having a soft spot for the annoying little shit.
Eddie chuckles all the way downstairs, going to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max will be returning to the dinner table tonight, but surprised to find the housekeeper standing in the China pantry with you — and for Allison to be there too. “I didn’t even hear you come home,” he hums, looking around at the three women. “Enjoyed your drive?”
"Oh!" Allison jumps, startled by the appearance of the cute, young looking, vampire. She's aware of his nature, Cookie having told her a few years ago. "I—" She flusters slightly and looks towards you. "I think he was talking to you and not me."
“Both of you,” Eddie clarifies, thoroughly enjoying the way Allison blushes in surprise. He’s always found the little witch to be beautiful, and is glad you made friends so quickly.
“It was really nice.” You’re standing in the room with Allison and Mrs. Taylor, arm looped through Allison’s as you chatted over having the next coven meeting here at the mansion. “Alli took me to a clam shack in Middletown for lunch and we drove all around the island.”
"Flo's." Allison tells Eddie, shrugging like it was the only place to take you. "Thought she should be familiar with the area. Learn where to go from a local."
“Perfect choice.” Not that he ever really wanted to eat there — not with how typical human food tastes to vampires — but because he sees that both humans have come home happy. So clearly, the choice was perfect. “Don’t let me interrupt. I was just coming to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max decided to be social for dinner tonight.”
"Decided?" Allison tilts her head in confusion and looks at him questioningly. "Has he been unsociable?"
“He’s been busy.” There’s no reason to talk about it, so you hadn’t mentioned it while you were out, but now you shrug. “I mean it’s not like we’re close, or anything. He’s not beholden to a big family dinner. That would be silly.” Silly for plenty of reasons – not the least of which is the fact that you’re not family at all.
Allison frowns and is about to say that there's no way that he would do that, but she catches the way your shoulders round slightly and stops herself. "Well, that just means he will have plenty to talk about tonight."
“Sure will,” Eddie predicts with a smile, having noticed the same thing as Allison. “I’m glad you ladies had fun.” Despite having been a vampire for decades he’s still fairly awkward around beautiful women and Allison is no exception to that rule. “I’ll leave you to it,” he decides, excusing himself to head back upstairs to his mountain of homework.
"Well, he ran off quickly." Allison doesn't know quite what to make of Eddie, he is normally running off before they talk for too long and it leaves her feeling a little off kilter.
“Doesn’t want to intrude on coven business, I expect.” Mrs. Taylor smiles, knowing full well that Eddie has had a little crush on Allison Wetmore for years. “Eddie used to dabble, you know? When he was younger.” When he was still human, is the underlying clarification, and Mrs. Taylor gives Allison a meaningful look. “Sometimes I think he misses it.”
"Really?" Her eyes widened in surprise and then drift back towards the door he had left through. "Well, he could always still dabble, if he wanted to. There's no rules against it."
“I can mention it to him,” you offer, seeing the way Allison softens at that idea and honestly envying it more than a little. You would give anything to feel softness and romantic longing for a good man again. Instead of the all-encompassing self-doubt and fear that you’ve been left with. The only thing you feel softness for right now is a bat. “The next coven meeting is going to be here anyway. There’s no reason he can’t join us.”
"You don't have to do that." A discreet look at Mrs. Taylor ends up with the older vampire simply shrugging her shoulders, having no input on the idea.
“There’s no reason he can’t join us,” you repeat with a smile, having no idea of the extremely real reason that so many other witches the world over would have a very big problem with the idea.
Mrs. Taylor smiles and nods. "Now, have you decided which china you would like to use?" She asks, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. "It would really depend on the theme that you are wishing to have."
“We’re going to be planning the Samhain Masquerade, so…” A small huff of a laugh comes out of you. “Did Cookie have anything with bats or Jack o’lanterns or broomsticks on it?” You know the question is ridiculous but you’re in a fairly good mood for the third day in a row and that’s fairly miraculous.
Although she purses her lips in thought, Mrs. Taylor finds it amusing that you would be so like the woman you had never met. "There are two sets." She admits, walking over to one of the walls of cabinets without glass to display the wares. "Ms. Cookie had an odd sense of humor that would be perfect for a Samhain Masquerade."
“Are you serious?” It had only been a joke, and yet Mrs. Taylor is pulling out two different sets of dinner plates — one rimmed in spider webs and skulls and ghosts and haunted houses; and the other with a clean black rim and old fashioned scenes of witches and hauntings and magic in the center. “Oh my gods!”
The housekeeper’s laugh is loud. "That was the exact reaction of Ms. Brown when she opened the crate with the dishes." She admits as you carefully take one of them to examine. "Her soulmate was always on the lookout for things that she would love."
“They’re fantastic.” The sting in your heart at another even small similarity between and a woman you never met makes you ache for some reason. “He sounds like he loved her very much.” The story that Allison told you is still in your head, but vampires? That’s still just too outrageous.
"Their love was never a question." Mrs. Taylor murmurs softly. "If there is one set that you like more than the other, we will use that set."
“What do you think?” Giving Allison the choice since she knows the coven better makes perfect sense to you. “We could probably even mix and match if we wanted to?”
"Personally..." She tilts her head and smiles as she looks down at the plates. "I think that the ones with the pumpkins are perfect."
“Then that’s what we’ll use.” They’re all perfect, so you’re happy no matter what — and what the coven will like is far more important to you anyway.
"We can save the other china for the next one?" Allison asks. "If you decide to have another next year."
“I’m sure we will.” Somehow, with as much as you doubt yourself on other things, you don’t doubt this. Like reviving the legacy of the masquerade ball is simply meant to be.
"Then we will make sure that everyone in Newport wants an invite to your masquerades." Allison declares with a grin.
“I think we could probably fit them all in this house.” You joke, wondering if anyone besides the coven would even come and if you would even care if they didn’t. Having this many potential friends is something you haven’t experienced in years.
“You should go to see some of the other mansions down this street,” Mrs. Taylor insists, sorting through the cabinet of Samhain China. “They’re very beautiful, and quite enormous.”
"We could make it a field trip, if you wanted?" Allison jumps on the idea with a grin. "Get a few from the coven and make a day of it?"
"Are there really that many to see?" So many of the gates up and down the street were marked private that eventually you had stopped thinking that any of them might be open to the public at all.
"They will be just as soon as you tell the people answering the speaker that you have some of Mrs. Taylor’s famous cookies." Allison snickers. "Even if the homeowners aren't there, the staff will do anything to get a box."
"Oh, now, hush." Mrs. Taylor would blush if she could, but as it is she waves her hand at Allison as though she might be just too pleased for words. "I'll see that Renee gets a stack of tickets ordered for the Preservation Society and you girls can go whenever you'd like. Just come on back here for lunch in between, alright?" There is a not-so-small chance that the vampiric housekeeper has dearly missed these larger parties and is taking any excuse she can find to encourage you to make friends. Not so small at all.
"You know your cookies are coveted." Allison hums with a smile before she turns to you. "What do you say, Dolly? Does that sound like something you'd like to do later on this week?"
"Absolutely." An invitation – any time spent with new friends – warms you right from the tips of your toes all the way through the top of your head. "I've never seen houses like these before, it sounds like fun."
"Ohhhhh." Turning her eyes towards the older, vampiric housekeeper, she bites her lip. "Is there any way that we could possibly borrow some period clothing?" The witch asks with a grin, knowing that it would appeal to her immensely. "We could do the tours dressed up."
"Of course, dear." Mrs. Taylor nearly vibrates with excitement over the question, answering immediately and putting the box of dishes aside in her eagerness at the suggestion. "I will sort through some of the older things on the third floor and bring them down for you all to look through tomorrow?"
“What do you think?” Allison turns to you and wants to know if you would like that. “Is that something you would like?”
It isn't something you would normally do, but something in your gut tells you yes. To go for it. That it will be fun. "What the heck?" You shrug eventually, throwing up your hands. "It could be fun."
“Yes!” Allison pumps her first in the air. “You won’t regret it.” She promises before she checks her watch. “Shoot. I have to get to work. Call you later?”
"Sure." Accepting the quick, tight hug for as long as it lasts, Allison is quickly flying out the door again and off to the races, leaving you with Mrs. Taylor and her knowing smile in less than a flash.
“That one is always busy, says it keeps her in high spirits.” Mrs. Taylor tells you as she pulls out the rest of the china. “Would you like a tea service or would you rather wait for dinner?”
"I'll wait, if you don't mind. Lunch was big." Having nothing but leisure time has been odd even if it has only been a few days, and for a moment you have nothing but envy for your friend and her busy schedule. There are things you would love to do, but just can't bring yourself to think about for the time being. "I think I'll read until dinner, if that's alright."
“Of course.” Mrs. Taylor doesn’t remind you that you are the one who sets the rules, just nods and smiles. “Ring the bell if you need anything.”
"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I will." There is nothing that you could need badly enough that it would make you call for the staff, but you appreciate the gesture of being reminded. You would never want to inconvenience them like that, so you'll enjoy your afternoon with your book until dinner and then quietly enjoy your absolute top guilty pleasure reality show on television tonight. That would be a perfect cap to a lovely day.
******
The fact that Max checks his appearance in the mirror has nothing to do with seeing you at dinner. Nothing at all. He’s a vain man and enjoys the fact that the modern day mirrors allow for his reflection, since they are not backed with silver. Making sure that his hair was perfectly in place, he amuses himself by letting his fangs grow, making sure there was nothing in his teeth. Wondering what you would do if he let them show at dinner.
At five minutes to seven you’re down in the dining room, not wanting anyone to ever have to wait for you or to cause any problems. A lot has gone on these last few days, but a routine is starting to emerge that you feel like you can attach to. The soothing breath of fall is helping but it’s not exclusively that. The freedom you’ve been allowed is almost terrifying, so it’s not that either. It’s the small routines that are making you feel more at ease, and the reliability of those things showing you that you can rely that Mrs. Taylor and Renee – and even Mr. Taylor and Mr. Finchley – will take care of things by sticking to their routines. Even Eddie has the routine of school and always sitting down to dinner with you. It’s only Max who is a wildcard, so you are trying very hard not to let his variability affect how you approach your day. Tonight begins your one true indulgence, and you will be damned if you let Max’s variable mood ruin it for you. You’ve been looking forward to this. It’s all you have left of some things that are long since past.
At seven Max strolls into the dining room. “Well, this looks like a marvelous evening.” He says with a small chuckle. “Miss me? I’ve been very busy.”
“It’s been a few days,” you nod once and pick up your lemonade, noting a taste of something herbal in it that you can’t quite identify. “I hope you’ve gotten things done?”
“Always.” He smirks, sending you a wink even if he doesn’t want to wink at you. “Plenty of deals done. Gotta burn that oil to get in good with the bosses.”
"I hope it works for you." Not having to suck up to horrible bosses is something you've considered an enormous fringe benefit of not having to look for a job in your new town, but Max seems to enjoy – somehow – the hustle and bustle of the office.
“So far my numbers don’t lie.” He boasts as he drags out his chair and flops down, somehow making it look elegant. His eyes roam over your face and it’s obvious that you’ve relaxed, your eyes brighter than before and you look happy.
“Have you…seen Eddie?” There are only two places set tonight and no sign of the other young man in sight. While it’s unusual it’s not exactly concerning.
Max knows that is happening and he frowns. Little shit obviously decided that you could stand to have a one-on-one dinner. “I think he decided to go out.” He tells you. “Take out.”
“Oh. Sure. Of course.” The whirring cogs in your brain immediately reinterpret that as ‘he is avoiding you because you’ve done something wrong or upset him’ and even though you have absolutely no evidence for that you can’t shake it out of your mind as Mrs. Taylor comes in with the first course.
Max huffs when there’s just water again, no goblets of ‘wine’. He needs one of those drink cups with a straw to bring to the table. “Think the kid’s trying to get laid or something.” He shrugs and glances down at his plate. “No, it was a study group. I was the one trying to get laid in college.” He tells you with a chuckle.
You have no trouble believing that whatsoever, but pointing it out seems like bad form, though. “Eddie seems very serious about school,” you observe instead. Thinking about Max like that is surprisingly easy and you immediately shock yourself trying to imagine if he has chest hair or not. That is not a helpful thought.
“He should be.” Max frowns seriously, picking up his spoon and sliding it through the blood soup Mrs. Taylor had made him. You have tomato soup in your own bowl. “Honestly, I’d be mad if he wasn’t serious.”
“You would?” From the man who just said he spent college trying to get laid, you can admit to yourself that that is surprising to hear from him.
"Of course I would." He spoons up a sip of the blood soup and slurps it happily. "Don't want the same thing to happen to him that happened to me."
“I thought you had your MBA?” The thick, creamy tomato soup that Mrs. Taylor made for tonight is wonderful, and you can already tell you’re going to be craving it with grilled cheese on chilly days.
He sighs, his face twisting in anger. "No thanks to fucking Vanderbilt." He hisses, still angry after all this time that they had not even attempted to listen to him. He had not cheated. He was a lot of things, but a fucking cheater in school hadn't been one of them.
“You went to Vanderbilt?” The way you almost drop your spoon in shock is about as telling at the way your mouth hangs open, but you manage not to let the utensil clatter or make a mess.
"I did." He snorts. "Until they fucking kicked me out for something I didn't do."
“I—I’m so sorry.” It’s clear he’s still angry about it, whatever it was that happened, and you back down from asking questions instantly. An angry man is never ever a good thing, especially when they’re strong. And Max definitely looks strong.
The way you clam up instantly makes him regret showing his true emotions. His shoulders relax and he adopts a slightly smarmy smirk. "Not that I didn't do anything wrong..." He admits. "But banging my roommate's ex-girlfriend was my only crime. Evan just…he was a fucking twerp."
“They…kicked you out for that?” You knew there was an Honor System when you were at school but that seems like taking it to a rather incredulous degree, to you.
"Nope." He takes another sip of his soup. "I was accused of 'academic dishonesty'." He even uses the air quotes. "Little shit had access to my computer so he made it look like I was stealing my essays from him. And he uploaded some test key from one of my classes onto it."
“Gods, he actually framed you?” That’s a whole lot of dedication to disliking someone and you fidget slightly in your seat, wondering when this all happened. You have no idea how old Max is or how old he was in college. “I’m…I’m really sorry. That’s awful.”
"Yeah....of course no college in the states would take me." He tells you. "Had to get my MBA in Romania."
“I…” A spoonful of liquid sits in your spoon, untouched, as you debate finishing your sentence. “I…went to Vanderbilt, too.”
"No shit?" Max huffs, looking impressed. "What year?"
"I was Class of 2011." There is a brightness there, in remembering college, that you don't have with a lot of other things, and the smile on your face is genuine. "It's hard to believe it was so long ago."
"Oh shit." Max's brows shoot up and he shakes his head. "I can't - you were there at the same time. I was - well, would have been, Class of '09."
"Shit..." Even if the curse slips out on its own, it's honest. And you sit back in your chair in surprise. "The school isn't that big. How did we never meet?"
"Somehow I don't peg you as a business major." He teases slightly with a grin. "Although....were you in any of the sororities? I was always at those parties."
"I wasn't exactly a sorority girl." That is a fairly large understatement, but you get the feeling that he wasn't being serious anyway. "I was a classics and anthropology double major, But I...spent most of my extra time dancing." It's been a long time since you have been in a studio, or last took a lesson, but that's where you spent every ounce of free time when you were younger. Dance was like breathing. It was just part of who you were, but it was never going to be your profession.
"Dancing?" He tilts his head, spoon halfway to his lips and he tries to figure out what you mean. "I mean, where do you dance, except at a party?" He asks, wondering if you were one of those ballet types.
The sting in your heart is still there, despite it having been a lot of years since the last time you were in a studio. "I used to do ballroom competitively," you tell him, finally taking that spoonful of your own soup all the way to your mouth.
Eating your soup stops you from seeing the way that Max nearly chokes on his next spoonful of the warm blood soup. Catching himself before you look up and schooling his features back to polite interest. "Hmmm."
"Yeah, it's not the most popular, necessarily. Or something that a lot of people dabble in." It wasn't as though you had taken jazz or tap, or any of the types of dance classes that the theater students favored. You hadn't even tried out ballet. For you, it had always been ballroom or bust. "But...I enjoyed it. A lot."
"Good for you." Max tells you. "Everyone needs a hobby and it will be handy when you are throwing those parties that Mrs. Taylor is nearly creaming herself over."
"Max." The way you say his name is full of -- to the surprise of both of you -- chastising disapproval. And while that in and of itself isn't necessarily the surprise, the surprise is that it almost feels playful.
He chuckles, smirking at the shocked expression on your face, as if you can't believe that just came out of your mouth. His own return of your name is playful, bantering.
“She seems glad to have things not changing too much, that’s all.” To have reminders of Ms. Brown has seemed to make the housekeeper very glad, and who are you to put an end to that?
Max frowns for a second. "Are there things you want to change?" He asks, wondering why you sound proud that you haven't made any waves.
“Not…not particularly?” In truth you haven’t thought about changing anything at all, so you can’t really say. “Change isn’t always good.”
"Change can be great though." Max argues, even though his tone is still playful. Still making sure that he doesn't somehow hurt your decidedly tender feelings.
"It can be." Sometimes. Rarely. Although this change -- the decision to accept the inheritance and move north -- has been a good one. "But to be honest? Everything is so different here that I don't mind just learning the ropes."
He hums again and quickly finishes his soup before Mrs. Taylor comes in to bring the next course. "I'm sure you will fit right in. The old battle ax is rigid in her schedule." He looks up at the older housekeeper and winks at her playfully.
She says nothing, but raises one eyebrow at Max as she picks up the soup bowls from both of your places and sets down plates instead. You don’t look upset at all so she’s taking it as a good sign for your conversation.
He smirks when you don't comment, instead staring at your plate like it fascinates you. "She's not going to bite." He promises. "You at least. Me? She's wanted to bite me for years, but I'm just not the type of man to be the 'other man'." He leans closer. "And between you and me? I think Mr. Taylor might be able to take me."
Years ago you would have teased him about being the kind of guy who claimed to be invulnerable, but not anymore. There may still be playfulness in you but the sass is pretty much gone. "Housekeeper isn't a vampire but her husband might be. Got it." You joke, instead of getting too heavy with anything. The story that the coven told you at Mabon is obviously still on your mind.
Max freezes for a moment before he shoots you a grin. "That's the spirit."
“I didn’t realize vampire stories were so popular up here.” At this point it’s just conversational and you pick up your fork for your second course. “Is it a regional thing? Allison was telling me about…Mercy Brown? I think that was her name.” The local vampire story from 1892 had been another tale related to you at the Mabon bonfire.
Max chuckles. "Vampires are extremely popular around here. As they should be." He adds, picking up his butter knife and pointing it at you as he educates you. "They are the superior creature in every way that counts."
“Oh?” That seems…characteristically cocky coming from Max, so you don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s his opinion or nothing. “If you say so.”
"Think about it." He hums. "Immortality."
“I’d go for magic being real before I go for immortality,” you tell him honestly. There hasn’t been anything about your life worth living forever for in a long time.
"Ouch." He rubs his heart like you hurt him. "I guess that's why you're a witch." He pouts at you before he picks up his fork. He's also noticed that you don't eat unless someone else does and you need to eat. Your stomach is growling quietly.
“I was raised a witch.” There isn’t any reason to share so much with him but you can’t seem to stop yourself. It’s like a compulsion. “My parents were witches, too.”
"So it's like...a family thing." He nods as he takes a bite of the steak tare-tare that he had been craving, groaning quietly at the taste.
“Very much so.” Though your family history is a little complicated, you can see unequivocally that the title of Witch is hereditary.
"That's cool." Max shrugs slightly, looking down as he scoops some more of the next course on his fork. "I don't think I could claim something like that. Parents disowned me when I was kicked out of Vandy."
“I’m sorry to hear that.” With your own loss being what it is, you can certainly appreciate the feeling of being on your own. “My parents died the summer before my freshman year.”
"I'm sorry." Max doesn't mean many things when he apologizes, but he does mean this. "Really."
“Thank you.” There isn’t anything to do about it now, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it then. But you do appreciate the sympathy. “I know it isn’t the same thing, but I understand being on your own.”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t have an answer for that. He just nods and reaches for the water to wash down the food.
Stony silence fills the dining room and you understand immediately that you've overstepped. Your situations aren't the same and you shouldn't have compared them, and now he's upset with you. Having a man upset with you, though, is unfortunately something that you're intimately familiar with, and even though you shrink in your chair you know what to do. Just sit with your mouth shut and eat your dinner, making sure not to make eating sounds that will bother or anger Max for the rest of the meal.
Unfortunately, it seems like you are the worst at someone staying silent and you clam up like you've just been scolded. Max wants to bridge the gap, to get back to the somewhat easy banter you had been having. "Dead parents, as good as dead parents." Max shrugs his shoulders. "What are you gonna do, am I right?" He cracks a smile. "At least yours have a good reason for abandoning you. Still sucks though, and I'm sorry. How did they go? Shootout with police? Exploding cauldron?" He's being purposely ridiculous to see you smile. Hopefully.
“Car accident.” You can’t really tell if he’s trying to lighten the mood or making light of your parents’ deaths, so for your own sanity you have to choose to believe it’s the former. “An eighteen-wheeler hydroplaned in a thunderstorm and rolled over onto my parents’ sedan and another car on the highway.” It’s been long enough that you can talk about it without instantly crying, but only just. “Truck driver was the only survivor.”
"Fuck." Max winces and he blows out a breath in a very human-like exhale. "I'm so sorry. That's a lot to deal with when you're that age, any age really." He adds. "What were they like?"
“I don’t think kinder people have ever existed.” You tell him honestly, fork in hand but not actively eating while you think of your parents. “They were soulmates. Met during a summer study abroad program in London. My dad had just started college the year before and my mom was taking a gap year because she didn’t know what she wanted to study. After they met, she applied to the same college he was studying at and…they were pretty much inseparable after that.”
Even though his heart no longer beats, something twists in his chest at the mention of soulmates. He had never gotten to find out who his was. Despite his playboy attitude, when he had been in college, he would have dropped everything to be with that girl. No more serial dating or being a flirt. He had wanted the soulmate bond that his parents had shared. “That’s sweet.” He tells you. “At least….” He clears his throat. “At least they went together so they didn’t have to lose each other to death.”
“That’s…kind of what I’ve settled on…” Agreement with Max is an odd feeling, but you too had settled on neither of them having to be alone at the end as a good thing. Any solace you could give yourself at the time was extremely necessary. “Do you—? I mean…your parents…?” You’re not quite sure how to ask, or even what you’re asking, but it feels rude not to ask at all.
“What?” He asks, not sure exactly what you mean. “Wish I could see them?”
“I was going to ask if you had checked up on them,” you admit, looking down at your plate. Max must not like duck, you reflect, since his dinner is something different tonight. “Sometimes I wish I knew the rest of my family just so I could check on them. See if they’re happy. But that’s silly.”
“I saw them about three years ago.” Max admits quietly. “From a distance. They made it very clear they had no interest in a cheater and refused to believe me. So….” He shrugs. “They made their choice. Being told your parents wished you were never born is a relationship killer.” He hadn't been able to resist going back and seeing the people who had given him life, but he had just watched from the car for a few hours before leaving.
“I’m so sorry.” Somehow it never occurs to you to ask if he is actually guilty. Someone so proud of his achievements doesn’t seem like the type to cut corners to you, and the fact that he still seems so hurt by it is the other large piece of the puzzle. If he were truly that person, it would not have left such a mark on his heart. And just like that— the wall you had up around yourself to keep out Max Phillips begins to crack.
******
Dinner had finished with much lighter subjects being broached. Finding himself watching as you relax more as the night goes on. The seemingly heavy burden of fear and manners slowly slipping off your shoulders and instead of being weighed down, your spine straightens. Body starts to uncurl from the center and open up. He had excused himself, like a gentleman. Wishing you a nice night and disappearing quickly. Unsure of why he's so fucking protective of you and not liking it at all. He had thought about turning into a bat again. To seek you out, but instead, he finds himself roaming around the halls of the mansion like a ghost.
It’s silly. You know it is. But to still have silly things to hold on to at this point in your life is vital. So you make your way upstairs after dinner and putter in your room for a little while, deciding to change into pajamas before going out to see if anyone is in the sitting room. Eddie is still out and there’s no sign of Max so you slip inside and turn on the tv, allowing yourself to relax and even enjoy tonight. Dancing with the Stars is silly in a lot of ways. But sometimes, for the people competing and for you watching, it can mean a whole hell of a lot. It’s a window back to happier days, and that is something you are grateful for.
The noise is what attracts him. Hearing the applause draws him from the remote areas of the house. As if pulled by an invisible string. His feet quiet as he draws closer to the light flashing from the sitting room.
“Live, from Hollywood! It’s Dancing with the Stars!” proclaims the host loudly, and you sink back into the presumably antique sofa with a happy sigh. The little things — like reality tv — aren’t always so little. Next week, you think, you’ll have to make popcorn.
Reality TV? His head tilts and his eyes widen in surprise as he comes into the sitting room. Unable to believe that you would watch something as trivial as this. He had pegged you for a Lifetime movies girl, or maybe the Who Done It channels that constantly played murder cases.
“Max!” The last thing you had expected was company, and your cheeks burn hot in embarrassment when you realize he’s smirking, like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Did—uh—did you want to watch tv?”
"Sure." He immediately starts to shrug out of his jacket and unbutton his vest as he walks around the couch. "What are we watching?" He asks, like he just didn't hear the announcer. It had cut to commercial and he wants to see what you say.
“I—uh—” Your complete intention had been to surrender the television to him if he wanted it. The idea that he might want to join you had never even crossed your mind, so when Max plops down on the sofa beside you, you feel like a deer caught in car headlights. “It’s…Dancing with the Stars…” you let the truth out without even thinking. It’s not even worth lying about, since you’re the worst liar in the world. And what would the point be, anyway?
"Hmmmmm." He is impressed that you just admitted what you are watching and he glances over at you with a grin. "Does it make you nostalgic?" He asks.
You nod, a melancholy smile grabbing your lips as you twist your fingers on the edge of your sweater. “Yeah. It does.”
"Who's your favorite this season?" He asks as he settles deeper into the couch. "Any favorites yet?"
“Only one couple has danced so far, so I’m not sure.” The fact that he’s asking, that he’s not just teasing you about it and walking away, makes you want to just about throw your arms around him in a grateful hug. But since that would be extremely weird and you can’t even fathom the urge, you just smile a little wider instead. “Alyson Hannigan is on this year, though. Even if she’s not very good, it’ll be fun. I—I was kind of a Buffy kid growing up.”
Max snorts, chuckling quietly. "Yeah but it was so predictable." He tells you. "Every week Buffy would be up against some bad ass who she easily defeated."
"That's because Buffy was a badass," you counter without hesitation.
He huffs, pursing his lips in a pout and smirks when you just raise an eyebrow. "You mean there wasn't one vampire you didn't secretly want to live?"
"Spike did live." Did you love the enemies-to-lovers arc that Buffy and Spike went through? Abso-fucking-lutely. Some of the shine had come off of the adversarial relationship since, but you still see the appeal in feeling like you know the real someone they keep hidden from the world.
Max rolls his eyes. "Spike wasn't that great." He huffs. "He wasn't."
"Oh no?" That makes you smirk a little, and you shift on the couch to face him better. "You preferred Angel, did you?" Angel would be the more sentimental choice, and that actually is a bit of a surprise. You would have thought Max would be more into the snarky badass vampire character.
"Angel had a personality." Max insists. "There was the conflict of good and evil inside him. That's better than just....eye candy with spiky white hair."
"Spike got his soul back, too, ya know." Having a debate about a supernatural television show from your childhood isn't exactly where you saw this night going, but Dancing with the Stars is still on commercial and seeing Max get worked up about something that doesn't lead to anger is actually kind of fun. "And he could sing."
He rolls his eyes at your rational and tuts. "Whatever, you just thought he was hot." He's oddly pouty about that fact, since he's the opposite of what Spike looks like. The show starts back and he points at it. "Watch the damn dancers." He grumbles.
"I liked that he improved himself for the person he loved," you clarify quietly, but turn to face the tv again like you've been told.
Max sighs, feeling bad for getting snippy about a fictional character and watches for another moment before standing up and walking out of the room.
The second it happens you can feel yourself curling in again, embarrassed and vulnerable and mortified that he's upset with you. Maybe, you tell yourself, trying not to get so upset that you cry over the fact that Max got up and walked out of the room -- maybe he's just not into dancing. That wouldn't be the end of the world...
"You're a fucking idiot, Phillips." Max berates himself as he zips down to the kitchen, using the speed he couldn't show if you were nearby. "You know she's fucking sensitive and more than likely abused. And yet you fucking get moody with her."
Mrs. Taylor had been clearing up the last of things from the day's work and starting on a little preparation for tomorrow as well when she heard Max in the kitchen. Some of the clothing that she had pulled down from the third floor needed mending and she has a needle and button in hand while Max talks to himself and she hears cabinets open and close.
"Fuck." He shakes his head and throws the popcorn in the microwave. "Okay, snacks, what kind of snacks does a human like while watching dancing?" He asks himself as he starts to pull out crackers and search for something sweet. You seemed to like that. He figured he would apologize with a little snack tray while watching your show.
Smiling to herself, Mrs. Taylor slips across the hall from the sewing room and leans in the kitchen doorway. "She likes hot chocolate," she murmurs, arms crossed and an expression of pure amusement on her face.
Max looks up guiltily and swallows. "Oh, uh, okay." He shrugs when he looks back into the cabinet and grabs the box of deluxe hot chocolate mix. "She wanted snacks." He lies. "Something about being peckish. You know humans."
"Sure, sure." The housekeeper doesn't buy that for a second, knowing that you would never ask for anything. Even after only a few days, she knows that. "Humans."
"Right?" He huffs and rolls his eyes, grabbing the milk and pouring it into the cup to froth in the espresso machine. It would be the best way to scald the milk and make the richest hot chocolate. It's the way he had made it when he was a barista in college.
"There's whipped cream in the fridge." Mrs. Taylor hums, pushing off from the doorframe with a knowing grin. "Enjoy your night, Max."
He grunts, watching the milk scald very carefully before he scoops the cocoa powder into the milk and stirs vigorously to mix it together. Cursing to himself when he realizes he didn't get a mug out, he sets it down to grab one of the big cocoa mugs and delicately pours it in, using the foam to finish the top before he moves to the fridge to grab the whipped cream and a bar of chocolate to shave over the top.
He barely manages to get it all done before the microwave beeps, but he does get it. The popcorn is buttery and salty just the way humans like it and the cocoa is exactly the way he would make it in his barista days.
Carrying the tray up the stairs takes a little bit longer than it would have without it, so he doesn't spill anything. The covered cup for himself is filled with a blood mixture, so he can 'participate' in the snacking. "So what did I miss?" He asks when he walks back into the sitting room.
The look of astonishment on your face when he strolls back I should be plenty enough to tell him that you didn’t think he was coming back, but you manage to sputter out that Alyson Hannigan is about to dance and nearly melt in sheer shock when you realize that he not only came back — he came back with snacks.
"Good, I didn't miss it." He sets the tray down on the coffee table and picks up the hot chocolate and saucer to hand to you. "It's hot, so don't burn yourself." He cautions as he looks at the tv with interest.
Careful not to fumble the cup as he sits down beside you again, you must look like a dope with the little smile of surprise in your lips but you can’t help it. “You didn’t have to do this…”
"Mrs Taylor." He lies with a small shrug. "She insisted. You know, housekeepers." He rolls his eyes for dramatic affect. "If they aren't making things perfect, they aren't happy." It wasn't Mrs. Taylor at all, but he won't admit that it was him even if it's completely obvious it was a lie.
“If you say so.” You nod, though you know just from looking at the cup that Mrs. Taylor didn’t make it.
"Popcorn?" He offers, holding up the bowl. "I - Mrs. Taylor - figured you were a popcorn kind of girl."
“You were right.” Even if he hadn’t given himself away, the tray would have. Mess. Taylor never would have forgotten a napkin. But you dip your hand in the bowl after setting it on the couch between you, and you just smile. A wide, genuine, personal smile.
Max huffs, settling in the cushions with his own cup and focusing on the tv. You didn't reject his tray, or think that it was a shitty idea, so that's good. "Oh, she looks hot." He hums as the couple starts to dance.
“She’s very pretty.” The costume is bright and colorful, fringe and sparkles everywhere, reminding you of so many teenage competitions. When you were growing up your mother swore that everything you owned had sparkle.
"Oooooh." Max winces and takes a sip of his drink. "That's gonna cost them." He predicts as he watches the first misstep of the routine.
“Familiar with ballroom salsa?” You ask, surprised to hear him have any comments at all beyond the costuming. Max is meticulously well dressed, so you had figured that would be the most amusing part for him.
"I just- uh, heard the crowd react." Max tells you, cutting his eyes over to see if you believe him or if you are suspicious.
“It’s okay to say yes…if you do.” It makes you wonder if he really would find it so terrible to have something in common with you.
He blows out a sigh and contemplates lying but apparently he is obscenely bad at lying to you. "I might know a thing or two."
“Did you…ever dance?” It’s equally possible that he dated a girl who danced, or even that he has a friend who he picked it up from. There could be any of a million reasons, and you’re not quite sure why you’re hoping for one over the other.
He closes his eyes and blows out another breath. "I've....danced." He admits slowly. "Comp...etitvely.
“Well I’ll be damned…” That was not what you expected to hear, and the smile on your face creeps a little bit wider than it had been beforehand. “So you know exactly what you’re watching.”
“Her timing is off a quarter of a beat and his arms are not rigid enough.” Max breaks it down as he watches. “The first quarter turn was sloppy and he’s letting her lead.”
“Salsa’s tough for a beginner. She’s got to build her confidence in herself and in him.” Going for a few pieces of popcorn, you can feel yourself relax around him to a whole other degree. “Don’t you remember getting your first competition partner? It was terrifying.”
“Yeah.” He can’t tell you that everyone had spent countless hours practicing before that began. A side effect of not needing sleep.
“When did you start?” Finding this common thread is a revelation for you, and as the judges critique the performance on screen you almost don’t even care that it’s on now.
“In Romania.” He admits. “You had to take an elective and since I was there late…” he shrugs. “Ballroom dancing it was.”
“You must be good, if you started relatively recently but got all the way to competitions.” For you, ballroom had started early. It had been your entire childhood, in a lot of ways. Coven meetings, trips to the library, and baby ballroom.
“A lot of practice, but I have natural grace.” He boasts with a small wink.
It’s bragging, of course it is, but this time it doesn’t run you the wrong way like it has at others. It’s just…like he doesn’t want to admit how much it means to him. “Sounds like you would put that ballroom downstairs to good use.”
“Depends on who I’m dancing with.” He teases. “I don’t think Mrs. Taylor would dance with me.”
“You don’t have a partner?” As soon as it’s out of your mouth you hear it — the sound of you accidentally asking him if he’s seeing anyone when what you meant to ask was if he had a competition partner. And yet? You are curious. In a backward kind of way…
It seems like the question is more loaded than just a dancing partner and he shrugs. “Not for a long time.”
“I hope that changes for you.” It’s meant to be cordial. Slightly more than polite. That’s all. You swear that that is all you meant. The twist and pull vibrating through you and making your stomach turn to knots is far beyond what you swear to yourself that you meant to ask. “I-if you want it to, that is.”
Max nods. “Been a long time since I’ve danced.” He admits. “College.” While he had enjoyed it a lot more than he would ever admit, he had people to prove wrong. The grand ideas of showing his parents how wrong they were and getting revenge on Evan had taken priority and ended up making him lose everything. Even his connection with his soulmate.
“It’s never too late for a second chance.” Your father’s favorite advice, this time, as you sip the cocoa that he made for you and hum in utter bliss. It’s better than Mrs. Taylor’s, but you’ll never tell. “And thank you for this. It’s…really wonderful.”
“Can’t watch a guilty pleasure without snacks.” Max scoffs. “It’s a crime.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be arrested for a lack of popcorn,” you hum, picking up a few more kernels.
He snorts, grinning at you before he takes another sip of his own drink. “Nope. I don’t think orange is your color.”
"I'll trust your judgment on that." You tell him with a smile. "I think you have better fashion sense than me."
"You should start wearing eccentric outfits. Play up the ‘strange owner of the mansion’ bit." He chuckles.
“It takes a lot of courage to be eccentric.” Something that you had once — wearing princess dresses in school pictures and dressing up in wild ballroom costumes — but it’s been a very long time. Too long. All that confidence got lost along the way.
"Fuck it, you're rich." Max shrugs. "Who gives a shit what people think about you?" He asks seriously. "They don't feed you, fuck you or pay your bills."
“So whose opinion do I care about, then?” You ask, half-serious and half-intrigued by the idea, even though you know you don’t have the guts to follow through with it. “Mrs. Taylor is the one who feeds me now, so just her?”
"Those you care about." Max explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Some rando on the street doesn't mean shit. Who gives a damn if that person thinks that you're strange or you shouldn't wear three-piece suits?" He tells you as an example. "You like the way they are cut, how you look, better yet - how you feel wearing them." He might be projecting slightly, but he reels it back in to focus on you. "Those that care about you and you about them, they just want you to be happy. And if dying your hair fuschia and wearing a dress from 1892 while rocking combat boots? They'll love it."
“That’s…very good advice, Max.” And surprisingly sweet. Sweet enough that that invisible wall cracks again, but you don’t voice the thought that it’s been a long time — too long — since you had anyone who truly cared about you like that. And that you’re too terrified to your very core to hope that any of the people you’ve met so far in Newport might grow into that sort of person.
"That's me." Max winks playfully. "Full of good advice and sound investment choices." He teases, just to see if you roll your eyes or get embarrassed.
“I’ll remember that.” Instead of doing either thing he expects, you fluster slightly and turn back to the tv, wondering why you’re having butterflies over something so…Max.
The rest of the show is surprisingly entertaining, both of you offering your opinions on the routines and even rating them. By the time it's over, you're obviously sleepy from the extra snacks and the hot chocolate. Max hums as he looks over and turns off the tv. "You should go get ready for bed, Dolly." He urges you. "I can clean this up."
“I liked Queenie, too,” you hum, smothering a yawn as you reach to put your cup and saucer back on the tray but Max is faster than you. He obviously means it, which means far more to you than you can say. “Good night Max. And thanks for…you know. Everything.”
"No problem, Queenie." He hums, grinning that you like his nickname for you. "Goodnight." You stand and walk out of the room, his dark eyes on you the entire time as he tries to discern why he has the greatest urge to follow you and tuck you in.
Teeth brushed, face washed, and the day stripped away, you climb into bed in your tank top and cotton pajama pants without bothering to look in the mirror. Once you might have stopped, inspected the marks that adorned your skin from the person that the universe decree was the other half of your soul— but they disappeared years ago. Now, alone, you tuck your blankets around you and breathe in the fresh fall air from your open window, hoping that the racing thoughts won’t keep you up and you can end a pleasant day on a pleasant note.
******
He moves like a wisp of smoke. Silent, nearly invisible when he wants to be, which is often. It was how he was so good, instinct and talent can only take you so far. His skills honed through centuries of use. The fact that he was so good was why he was gifted, or cursed, with immorality. He uses it now. Slipping through the halls unseen. Even passing by his protegé without being noticed on his way towards his goal. A single room. A single person. Asleep and vulnerable in her dreams. His teeth flash in a smile, sharp and deadly as he anticipates seeing you again.
Dreams don’t always come anymore, and they certainly don’t come easily when they do. More often stuck in your nightmares, you’re grateful for dreamless sleep. Tonight though, as your head hits your pillow, your unconscious mind has a different destination. The little farmhouse in Indiana where your bedroom was painted sunshine yellow and all your favorite dolls are lined up on the shelf beside your Nancy Drew and Magic Treehouse Club books was always the setting for encountering your invisible friend. Though he visited you everywhere, he would always make sure to tuck you in at night and wish you sweet dreams. Words of kindness and encouragement from a man with curly hair the color of your father’s coffee and a voice tinted and coloured by travel to places unimaginable and beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in your dreams in longer than you can remember…but his eyes still crinkle in the same kind way…
Standing at the foot of your bed, he observes you. You're different. Obviously. He's not seen you since you were a child. Unable to because of the power magic of your mother. The spell binding until death. While the loss is bittersweet, he greedily takes note of the curve of your cheek and length of your lashes. Frowning slightly when he sees the way that you seem worn, the weight of your life's challenges weighing you down. He steps closer, leaning down and brushing his hand over your hair gently. Touching you with an almost tender yearning and the slight undercurrent of sadness.
The flashes in your dream are slight at first — showing you a great whirling of people and bright colors in amber light with vibrant music in the air. Catches of the image seem familiar but you can’t place them, until you hurry out a side door of the room to step out onto a small porch to a sprawling garden, and you recognize the grounds of the house where you now live. A hand on your shoulder. A soft voice in your ear, thickly accented but familiar.
"What do you think, muñequita?" He asks, gently. "Is it pretty enough for my little doll?"
“It’s beautiful, Yayo.” It’s been so long since he appeared in a dream of yours, yet the moment he does you recognize him instantly. Your sleeping mind has always welcomed him. “Unbelievably beautiful.”
"My greatest dream has come true, my sweet girl." He hums, his fingers curling around your shoulder in a comforting embrace. "Having you here."
Without hesitation, your head finds his shoulder and you welcome the comfort of his frame, feeling his presence even in the dream. Even when you know he isn’t real. In the dream he is as real as you are. “I’ll stay here forever then.”
"I hope you do, muñequita." He sighs, smiling at the thought and turns to press his lips to your temple. "It is my greatest wish. That's why I brought him here for you."
“Who, Yayo?” The embrace feels like being wrapped up in the best hug in the world. (edited)
"It will be obvious soon, my sweet." He promises, kissing you again and inhaling your scent. "Te amo, muñequita." He murmurs. "Te amo."
“Te amo, Yayo.” There is no doubt or hesitation in it. The friend that stepped into your dreams as a child has always defended you, and reminded you through far away memories that the world is vast and mysterious. That so much is possible. It is only the last few years that have made you lose sight of that.
Standing straight, he smiles as he tucks your covers up over your shoulder. Happy that he has seen you again and reached out to you through your dreams. You are no longer the young child that would believe he is your imaginary friend. Stepping back, he watches you sleep peacefully, his muñequita.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie
VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum
My Masterlist!
170 notes · View notes
jacenbren · 1 year
Text
My Saiki K headcanons because I can’t think of any other ways to satisfy my hyperfixation rn:
Nendou is fully aware that Saiki has psychic powers but it never crossed his mind that that was weird
Kaidou fucking LOVES magic: the gathering and has one of those books full of cards
He also loves digimon. Aren is a devout pokemon enjoyer. yes they are constantly at each others throats trying to insist that their favorite is better
It took much convincing, but the rest of the gang managed to convince Saiki to join their weekly D&D sessions. Saiki whines and complains every time they drag him there. he then proceeds to have the time of his life every session without fail
Aiura was one of those girls who had a shit ton of Barbie dolls as a kid and sometimes she and Toritsuka get together to play with them (aka act out horrific and violent soap opera scenarios that every child who owned Barbie dolls concocted)
Mera and Nendou bond over their mutual love of food and watch food network cooking contests with the enthusiasm of white suburban dads watching the Superbowl
Nendou regularly picks Saiki up like a sack of potatoes to hug him. Saiki will never admit in a million years that he absolutely loves it
Teruhashi saw that Saiki barely acknowledges her existence and had a realization of “oh wow he isn’t obsessed with me simply because of my looks and treats me like a person rather than some unattainable object of desire I want to spend more time with him because he doesn’t superficially adore me” but she misinterpreted it as a crush and is EXTREMELY confused
Akechi & Saiki = adhd/autistic besties
Nendou & Saiki = also adhd/autistic besties but in like a queerplatonic way????
Saiki won’t admit it but he likes hanging out with Akechi because the guy does all the talking for him and all he has to do is listen
Saiki secretly really likes Hairo because his internal monologue is pretty much the same as how he presents himself to others (Saiki finds Hairo’s sincerity oddly comforting)
Saiki also finds it oddly comforting that he can’t read Nendou’s mind because when spending time alone with him Saiki isn’t constantly bombarded by an internal monologue
Aiura and Saiki casually bully Toritsuka on the regular
“Just get a boyfriend arent you bi” “damn Toritsuka nobody wants you fr”
Kaidou can’t whistle. Aren constantly teases him about it. Kaidou will then attempt to climb his body like a tree and strangle him.
Aiura is a stoner
Saiki is very much affected by weed
Saiki + Aiura’s “special” coffee brownies she made one day and put in the fridge not remembering that Saiki is an utter bastard when it comes to stealing other peoples snacks = utter chaos
Saiko secretly really wants friends but due to his upbringing he doesn’t know how to act around people in lower tax brackets
Saiki sometimes sits next to him at lunch out of pity
Nendou learned how to make coffee jelly after finding out that Saiki loves it
Every year for Saiki’s birthday the gang throws him a surprise party (Saiki is never surprised because of his powers but he’s always so touched by the gesture that he can’t help but play along)
642 notes · View notes
nickeverdeen · 3 months
Note
heya! could you please do some HC's for Mike Schmidt with a s/o who absolutely LOVES the animatronics and he wants to keep her away but she keeps going back so eventually hes js like "fuck it. it is what it is" and gives in to let her play with abbey n them? thankssss!!!!!
Sure! Although is it just me or is this fandom dying?
You = white cursive text
Mike = orange text
Abby = purple text
————————————————————
Mike Schmidt x fem!reader who’s an animatronic lover
Tumblr media
At first, Mike is adamant about keeping you away from the animatronics
Mainly ‘cause he is fully aware of the risks and dangers associated with the job at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza
Animatronics randomly acting up at night?
Nope, he’s not letting you or Abby near them
Seeing the animatronics walk on their own in middle of the night was enough to creep him out
And the protective boyfriend he was he wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you ‘cause of his actions
Mike warns you about them yet you can’t see anything bad about the animatronics just like Abby
“The animatronics might look harmless, but they have a tendency to act up, especially when it’s dark. I don’t want you to be in harm’s way.”
Despite his warnings and attempts to dissuade them, you are persistently drawn to the animatronics
“I get that you’ve seen some weird things, but I’m not afraid. I’ll be careful around them.”
Mike's protective instincts kick in, and he worries about your safety, repeatedly emphasizing the potential dangers lurking within the pizzeria
“I just want you to be safe. If something were to happen, I couldn’t forgive myself.”
However, you remain undeterred, convinced that the animatronics are misunderstood
“I think we can change the way we see them. They’re not inherently dangerous; they’ve just had some glitches in the past.”
Over time, seeing the genuine excitement and joy on your face, Mike begins to soften
He observes how you interact with Chica, one of the friendlier animatronics, and notices the mutual enjoyment you both share
After a while Abby joins and she surely is in love with the animatronics maybe even more than you
“Mike! Look at how cute they are!”
Abby grinned while playing with Chica and other animatronics
“You might see them as harmless performers, but I’ve seen some creepy stuff. It’s hard for me to trust these animatronics completely.”
Mike shook his head taking Abby away waiting for you to follow
He felt bad when he saw you get sad about it
The more you try to interact with the animatronicts the more he slowly lets you go without comments
Eventually, Mike reaches a point where he decides to let go of his reservations, adopting a "fuck it, it is what it is" attitude
He concedes to allowing you and Abby to play with animatronics, realizing that perhaps it can coexist in an unexpected actual joy for all of them
Despite his initial reluctance, Mike starts to appreciate the happiness and comfort that the animatronics bring to you
It becomes a unique bonding experience, and he finds himself occasionally joining in on the fun, even if cautiously
Seeing you happy made him smile and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle when Bonnie was tickling you
Of course at first when Bonnie touched you he instantly got nervous
But Mike realizes that your love for the animatronics is harmless, and he learns to accept and support their interest, understanding that it’s a source of joy for them
68 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 2 years
Note
This idea has been stuck in my mind for a while. Eddie asks the reader to Prom. She obviously says yes. Then when at the Prom they get made fun of and teased by Jason and the other kids. Eddie is used to it but the reader isn’t and gets sad. Eddie takes the reader home and comforts her. It ends in very soft smut (reader is a virgin). And aftercare. <3
Tumblr media
AN | I’m just going to say this is Best Boyfriend Eddie and he’s just…wonderful! Enjoy 🥰
Warnings | Language, Beginnings of smut (nothing explicit)
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You weren’t going to make a big deal of prom. You totally weren’t because one, it seemed overrated, and two, it totally wasn’t your scene. But when you’d heard the theme, you couldn’t help the fact that your interest was piqued. Curiosity was only natural, right? And it wasn’t like you were suddenly planning on going. It wasn’t like you even had someone that would want to go with you.
There was absolutely someone that you wanted to go with, but you wouldn’t ask him in a million years. He probably would have just laughed in your face and thought you were making a joke. Which is also precisely why you were never going to tell him how you truly felt about him…you know, the whole I’m in love with you thing seemed too much. 
“Hey,” you were pulled out of your own thoughts as Eddie sat down next to you in science. You offered him a sheepish smile, as if you were worried that he’d heard your internal monologue on both prom and your love for him, “everything alright, princess? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” you replied but your voice was a high pitched squeak and caused him to raise an eyebrow. You swallowed and tried to regain yourself as you looked at him with what you hoped was a normal expression, “just tired is all.”
He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he tried to get a read on you. No way was he going to buy your little cop out excuse. For now he decided to give you a pass, “so I had an idea.”
“Oh? Cherish the thought - Eddie Munson had an idea,” there you were, back to teasing him already. He scoffed playfully before nudging your leg with his, causing shivers to run down your spine.
“Prom is coming up.”
“Yeah?” your cheeks warmed up as you tried to keep it casual and not like your heart was about to burst from your chest, “and?”
“It’s my last opportunity to go and I thought maybe I would go…”
“You, Edward Munson-”
“Don’t use my full name!”
“You, Eddie Munson,” you looked at him with wide eyes and a nervous expression, “want to go to prom?”
“Mhmm,” he looked so pleased with how he managed to shock you. Your mind was reeling and your heart was sinking with the realization that he might have someone in mind that he wants to go with…someone that wasn’t you. And you were fully aware of the fact that he didn’t feel the same way about you, but it would still hurt to see him with someone else. It was a selfish thought and you tried to push it far away, “you okay, space case?”
“What? Yeah…sorry,” oh fuck. He was going to know what was going on in your head and he was going to hate you and never speak to you again. He was going to think it was weird and creepy that his best friend was in love with him. He was going to make fun of you…he was going to-
“So, what do you say?” he was looking at you with those big, soft puppy eyes and blinked in confusion which only caused him to smile wider.
“To what?”
“To going - jeeze I guess you really are out of it today - to going to prom with me?” your eyes widened at his question. There was no he was seriously asking this question, “yes, you. W-would you go to prom with me?”
“Yes,” you answered without hesitation and quickly grew embarrassed by your quick response. But Eddie’s smile only grew larger, “but Eds, why-”
“Mr. Munson,” you both turned and looked at Ms. Gallagher, "please quit distracting your fellow students. Unless there's something you'd like to share with the class."
"N-no," his cheeks flushed a pretty pastel pink as you bit your lip and stared at your notebook. This all felt like some sort of wild fever dream from Eddie wanting to go to prom, to Eddie wanting to go to prom with you. He nudged your foot with his as you turned to him and gave him a small smile that matched his. 
In order to prevent either of you getting into further trouble, you ripped a piece of paper out of your notebook and hastily scribbled are you sure you want to go to prom with me?
You slid it across the black lab table top and he quickly read it before shaking his head in amusement. He wrote back slowly, almost as if he really was trying to torture you with his response. But after a few moments of tense silence - only tense on your part - he pushed back the paper back to you.
I’ve never been more sure of anything.
The way your face lit up was worth it a million times over and Eddie could barely contain his own grin. He would have asked over and over again if he kept getting to see you smile like that. The girl of his dreams had just agreed to prom with him, that was almost as weird as him actually wanting to go to prom - what a wild day it had turned out to be.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time the evening of prom rolled around you were feeling incredibly…nervous. It was an emotion you’d almost never experienced around Eddie. But here you were pacing around the living room as you waited for him to pick you up, stopping to glance at yourself every once in a while in the mirror. You were happy with how your hair and makeup had turned out, but you were especially in love with your dress.
It was an old black lace dress you’d found randomly at a thrift store, but you’d done work on it and made it all a custom dress all for yourself and paired it with a pair of pretty mary janes you’d treated yourself to. You hoped Eddie would like it and think you were pretty; it didn’t matter, but it still would have been nice.
When the doorbell rang you jumped in surprise, despite expecting it, taking a moment to collect yourself before nearly tripping over your own feet in excitement to answer the door. You opened the door breathlessly and found Eddie on the other side, looking as handsome as ever with a megawatt smile on his face. 
“Eddie,” you grinned at him as you drank in the very pretty picture he presented. He must have read your mind because he too was dressed in all black - well fitted trousers and dress shirt along with a tie. You didn’t even know he owned a tie…your bet was that it was Wayne’s. His roguish curls had even been tamed a little bit to make them less frizzy and more defined, “you look…wow. Really good.”
“You look beautiful,” there was a boyish grin on his face and he rocked back and forth on his heels in excitement. Your entire body warmed up as you waved a hand to dismiss his compliment.
“You don’t have to say it,” you insisted softly, “it’s okay.”
“You know me well enough to know that I would never lie,” he gently reassured you as he could see you perk up, “and more importantly, I would never lie to you, princess. I mean it, you look beautiful. You always look beautiful though, so I’m not surprised. I really like your dress, pretty girl.”
“I…Eds-”
“Come on,” he held his hand out to you and you eagerly accepted and slid your own into his, marveling at the fact that despite his calloused fingertips and rough palms, his touch still managed to be so gentle, “let’s go to prom, have a good time, and enjoy the fact that we’ll be out of the hellhole that is Hawkins High soon enough!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d always wondered what prom would be like, and it still managed to top your expectations. It was actually fun, especially with the fact that you were there with Eddie; there was no one else you could have imagined this with. 
“Hey - I’m going to grab us some drinks, okay?” his cheeks were flushed and you were both messes from being on the dancefloor. You didn’t even mind the annoyed and rude looks and stares that were being thrown your way. You nodded happily as he gave your arm a gentle squeeze and flounced across the gym to where the drinks were. 
You stood there, smiling to yourself…until you heard a wolf-whistle coming from behind you. Despite knowing better, you turned around to find the source and internally groaned when you saw that it was Jason Carver and his cronies. 
Before you could turn around and pretend that you hadn't heard anything, you felt a rough hand on your arm. There was Jason, smiling at you with a condescending smile, "look who came out to prom. Munson's little girlfriend."
"I-I'm not his-"
"Did no one else ask you?" He pretended to give you a sad little smile as you felt embarrassment course through your veins, "how sad. But seeing this little dress, that's probably a good thing."
"Can you please…I didn't do anything to you," tears were already starting to well up in your eyes. He laughed, the dark sound sent a shiver down your spine.
"Did you make it yourself? How cute. You know, you could be good for something," he'd leaned in and his hot breath fanned across your face, "you could get on those knees and suck my c-"
Before he could say anything else Jason was covered in sticky, sweet fruit punch. You looked up and found Eddie glowering at him, "shut the fuck up, Carver. Go be a dick somewhere else. Fucking pathetic, man."
"Aww, the freak is here to save his dumb little bitch," Eddie had his fist raised, but your wrapped your fingers around his wrist and shook your head.
"He's not worth it," you whispered softly. He dropped his hand and nodded, letting you pull him away.
"Angel-"
"Can you just take me home?" The sadness in your voice almost broke his heart, "please?"
"Of course," he promised softly as he took your hand in his, "whatever you want."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
As soon as he parked his van in your driveway, you were ready to jump out. Before you could, Eddie held onto your arm and gently held you back, "thanks for the ride, Eds. I really appreciate it - you."
“Angel, wait - do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently and his tenderness almost caused you to cry again. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth and shook your head.
“Not really,” you shrugged, “I’m probably just going to go to bed.”
“Do you want to watch a movie or something? We can get a pizza and soda and hang out,” he hated the idea of you going home to an empty, dark house. He hated the idea of you being so upset - and alone - even more. You opened the door fully and slid onto the pavement and remained silent for a moment.
“Thanks again,” you walked towards the door and made it about halfway before you heard him slam his door and run after you. You stopped and turned to him; the fact that he was willing to fight for this, to fight for you to let him in made your heart so full.
“Alright, I’m not asking,” he said softly, “I’m going to come in, we’re going to order pizza and watch a movie. I’m not taking no for an answer, princess.”
You looked at his big brown eyes for a moment, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him and tightly held onto him. It only took him a moment to catch up and hug you back just as fiercely.
After a few moments, you took his hand and led him into the house, wasting no time in pulling him up to your room. It wasn’t odd considering he’d been in this position so many times in the past. He dramatically flopped down onto your bed, which made you giggle a little bit, “there’s my girl.”
“Eddie-”
“He’s a huge fuckin’ prick,” he insisted as you nodded; of course you knew it was true but it still hurt, “and he’s so wrong. He wishes he could have someone like you. You’re…so wonderful, so funny, kind, smart, and beautiful. I want you to know that.”
“Eds,” you stood in front of him and flailed your arms around, “you’re my friend, but you don’t need to say all that to just make me feel better.”
“I’m not…I’m not just saying it,” he insisted softly, “I mean it. I...I’m not just your friend - I don’t wanna just be your friend, angel.”
“What do you mean?” your heart was about to burst through your ribcage as you looked at him with doe eyes that would be the death of him, “Eds?”
“I wanna be…your boyfriend,” he said nervously as you looked at him in surprise, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that for a long time and I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that I’m in love with you.”
“Eddie,” you stepped closer to him and he held out his hand. You looked at it for a moment, feeling shy and nervous before you took it and let him pull you into his lap. You brought your hands to his face and delicately cradled it tenderly for leaning in and kissing him softly. It was nothing more than a sweet, chaste little kiss, but when you pulled back, he was beaming at you, “I’m in love with you too.”
“Yeah?” he asked sweetly as you just nodded eagerly. Not only was your dream coming true, but so was his; two fools in love but no longer so blind, “can I kiss you again?”
“Yes please,” within seconds he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with more and more passion with each passing second. Kissing Eddie felt like a literal dream and better than anything you could ever have dreamed up. You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening.
One thing led to another, slowly, sweetly, and with a lot of love, and you soon found yourself under Eddie, caged into between his arms. You were looking at him with such tenderness that he couldn’t help the small sound that escaped his lips, “you’re so beautiful, angel. In every single way.”
“So are you,” you promised, “you’re everything to me.”
He leaned down to kiss you again, and you could feel his hardness pressing against your leg. You were incredibly turned on as well, sure you’d soaked through your panties, but you grew slightly nervous, “E-eddie. I-I’m a…I’m a virgin. I hope that’s not…weird for you.”
“No, of course not,” he nudged your nose with his before peppering kisses all over your face which caused you to relax, “wanna know a secret?”
“Mhmm.”
“I’m a virgin too,” you looked at him in surprise but he nodded to confirm what he had said was true, “we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. We can wait - I’ll wait for you forever, you’re worth it.”
“I want this too,” and oh. You really did; you’d always imagined that your first time would be with him and now it was actually happening, “I’m ready if you are…can you just…be gentle?”
“Of course,” he said in earnest as he sat back on his haunches. You could see his cheeks turn a bright red as he floundered for a moment, “I, ugh…I have some condoms in the van. I’ll go and get them.”
You looked at him for a moment, with nothing short of pure adoration, before bursting into a small bit of laughter. He looked surprised but when he realized that you weren’t laughing at him, “Eddie Munson. Did you bring condoms thinking we’d have sex?!”
“I mean no,” he grinned sheepishly, “but I figured it’s better to be prepared, ya know?”
“Yeah,” you leaned up and pulled him back to your lips, “I love you, Eddie Munson. I really do.”
“I love you too, angel,” he pressed his forehead against yours before letting out a nervous huff of laughter, “so much.”
“Eds?”
“Princess?”
“Go and get the condoms,” you insisted with a smile and gentle push as he gave you a small salute, “I love you, dork.”
“I love you!”
629 notes · View notes
lavendermunson · 7 months
Text
we were built to fall apart – king!steve harrington x fem!reader
୨ৎ ˙ ˖
summary You two are better know as the captains of the basketball teams, this year only one team can keep the crown while the other has to back down. You hate Steve. Steve hates you. But in some weird way something is pulling you to each other.
tags no warnings for this one. angst. enemies to lovers. season 1 steve. king!steve. both are mean but not too much. no upside down. steve harrington x nancy wheeler (for now). platonic!reader x jonathan byers. no use of y/n.
w.c 3.3k
moodboard | next part
Tumblr media
When you arrived at Hawkins High you never expected to be the one to change the rules. Your old school had a basketball team for girls, Hawkins didn’t, it was the only town that was missing this. But with the help of a lot of interested girls, you convinced the principal to give you an opportunity and he did. When the school realized the girls’ team was better, they ignored the boys, and that hurt King Steve’s ego. He wants the attention back, even if it means he has to bring you down for it, maybe start a plan to sabotage.
“Hey! you look like hell,” Jonathan says as he joins you at the parking lot, he hands over a cup of coffee and laughs at your disgusted expression.
“I know, fuck! Harrington had one of his parties again and the music was so loud” You take the cup after murmuring a thank you.
“Your aunt didn’t say anything?”
“No, she’s going to the lake with her fancy boyfriend… You know how it is”
Jonathan opens the door for you since your hands are busy, one carrying the cup and the other one holding your basketball ball.
“Wow, so now it’s serious? She’s in a relationship and I lost my opportunity?” he laughs at his joke as you hit his arm playfully. You shake your head at the thought of Jonathan being with your aunt and giggle with him until you see a familiar face.
“Hey guys!” Nancy Wheeler, better known as Jonathan’s crush “I was wondering if you are still down to make the English project together” she talks to Jonathan as he smiles like a fool.
“Yeah, of course… I’ll be there I promise”
She nods, giving you and your best friend a kind smile, and walks away to find her boyfriend.
“So… I'm assuming I have to babysit Will?” you ask.
“Please, please” he chants, glancing at you with pleading eyes.
“Alright, I'll just have to take him with me to practice”
You always love the idea of spending time with Will, he was your favorite kid from the party.
“And it’s D&D night so you don’t mind…”
“I don’t, it’s always fun to play with them”
Since you met Jonathan in elementary school, you grew up attached by the hip to him and his little brother. When Will found friends to play D&D with, he begged you to play with them since you were the first one to teach him about this game with Jonathan’s help.
The bell rang making you jump, Jonathan joined you in class and you both sat up for a long and boring chemistry class.
At the end of the school day you meet with Will, explaining you had to babysit him for today while Jonathan finished his project. Will wasn’t excited to sit on the bleachers for two hours but he was thankful for not forgetting his sketchbook and colored pencils at home.
“You know the rules, don’t go away, and if you need anything tell me. I don’t mind you interrupting, 'kay?”
The little boy nods, he fully understands that practice means so much to you and you are well aware that a little kid like him can get bored of just sitting down.
“Time goes by fast, don’t worry about it,” he says, as you open the door and see the boys' basketball team instead of your own.
“Are you sure it’s your day to practice?” Will asks, looking at your face. A frown was already present.
“I- I am, someone wants all the attention back” you immediately point at Steve.
“What the fuck?” one of your teammates joins you at the door, she mirrors the expression on your face.
“Language!” Will screams, laughing it off and running to sit down on the bleachers. He was getting impatient while standing up.
You watch as the little kid runs, and when he’s safe in his seat your eyes land on the boys' team especially looking for Steve Harrington.
“No… no, leave it!” your teammate tries to hold you but it’s too late.
You walk over to Steve, dropping your backpack and your ball as you get closer to him. A groan leaves out of Steve’s mouth as he watches you come closer, he holds the ball around his arm and against his hip with a grin on his face.
“Are you stupid?” you ask him, he keeps his grin intact.
“Did the coach forget to tell his little loser that schedules changed? don’t look at me like that, it's not my fault!” he says.
Anger takes over your body, making your vision blurry and red. You get closer to Steve to try and intimidate him but he towers over you. The coach you both share runs towards you and tries to stop a war that is only beginning.
“I am sorry, I wanted to speak to you two… my office”
You look at him and then look at Steve who is looking at you with disgust. Both of you walk over to the coach's office and sit down in the chairs in front of his desk, you move yours to one side to be as far away from Steve as possible.
“Captains, here’s the deal” coach starts to speak, you try to ignore Steve’s presence and he does too “As you may know regionals are starting soon but I'm afraid to tell you I can only send one team out there because the school has no funds to get both of the teams to those competitions” 
“And?” Steve asks.
 “I’m taking the girls,” the coach says.
You stay in your seat smiling, giving the coach a thankful nod and watching Steve lose his mind at the news.
“What?” he gets up from his chair “This is not fair, we are better!” 
“Better at losing,” you say, chuckling as he glares at you. You catch his lip quiver and he storms out of the office.
“Please go talk to him” the coach speaks to you, you raise an eyebrow confused. 
“Me? Why me?” you ask.
“Yes, you are classmates and you need to learn how to take care of each other” Coach shrugs as he takes his sandwich out of a drawer, clearly he wants you to talk to Steve instead of missing lunch.
You run after Steve following the coach's orders, knowing that if you don’t do as he says he might change his choice of taking your team.
“Harrington!” you see Steve behind the gym, he has his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
“What do you want? you have everything you need now Go away”
“I- I just wanted to… listen, he knows what he’s doing so… I don’t know… you’ll get it next time” You feel a little bit of pity for him, but you know you shouldn’t since he and his friends are always rude to you.
“There is no next time, you don’t get it” he shakes his head, and a look of disappointment rests on his face “We worked hard for this since we started and you came in late and ruined everything”
You can’t believe what he says. A part of you tried to be kind to him for once but now it’s too late.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick, maybe you’ll be better at basketball” you try to get back at him “It’s not my fucking fault your team- ”
He stands up, towering over you again, something he loves to do knowing it gets you on your nerves. He takes steps closer to you and your back hits the wall.
“Finish”
“What?”
“Finish. Your. Sentence” he punctuates his words with each step, getting closer to you. You feel his breath on your cheek and they go red… of anger. Yes because you can’t be enjoying this, can you?
You part your lips to speak but a voice interrupts you, it is Diana, one of your best friends and teammates. 
“Hey!” Steve jumps away from you and runs away, Diana runs to you as you don’t move.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you or something?” she asks, worried.
You knew Steve was never capable of that, he could be the most annoying person on this planet but he would never hurt anyone physically… because you wouldn’t do it to him as much as you wanted to.
“No, no” you shake your head, coming back to reality “He just- he’s just mad and being an asshole as always”
“Okay, we are warming up and you need to join us… the gym is free for us and Will is asking about you”
Steve left to take a shower, after being so tense and angry about the coach ignoring all the time and effort he put into his team. Now he had to go home and tell his dad that he wouldn’t be playing basketball anymore and that career option was not an option anymore. He knew the A-grade-asshole was going to be disappointed, his mom too. 
Because for Steve, his life is a full path of lost battles and he is pretty sure he can never have anything good. The only thing his parents were proud of was his girlfriend, who had lately stopped paying attention to him for this so-called ‘English project’ with a person who was considered to be one of the freaks at school, Jonathan Byers. 
Steve didn’t even know if he loved Nancy because he never felt different… but of course, he loved her. She is a good girl, his parents love her. Her parents are great, they are respected by his own and it was important to Steve to not fuck up this one good thing that he had. 
He didn’t expect his evening to be so boring until Nancy called, he waited for her call all day long after not spending enough time with her because of the project. 
“Steve? My mom is asking if you want to join us for dinner. I’ll get there late but you can go ahead and help her, please” his girlfriend asks, Steve smiles at the invitation and accepts it right away. After a bunch of “yes” “I would love to” and “I'm on my way,” he got in his car, noticing yours wasn’t on the front porch.
For both of you, it was a nightmare even looking at each other at school, it was worse when you had to see each other because you were neighbors. Just like that universe can’t keep him away from you. 
He drives as fast as he can and gets to the Wheeler’s in record time. After greeting the whole family and helping get the casseroles on the table, Mrs. Wheeler screams to Mike that the pizza is ready. Mike and the kids are currently in the middle of an important and tense campaign, with you. 
“This kid… he plays nonstop. I don't think he has even showered today!” Mrs. Wheeler rubs her fingers against her frown, smoothing it out and taking a deep breath.
“I can go down there and give them the pizza if you want” Steve offers, Mrs. Wheeler’s eyes light up at his kindness and he takes the boxes of pizza. He walks over to the basement door and knocks.
“It’s my turn to roll!” Lucas screams.
“I need to see you’re not- ” Dustin screams again, but he is interrupted by a knock.
“Oh Ranger, would you be so kind and to open the door for us?” Mike, the DM, looks at you and you nod getting up from your seat. The screams come back as soon as you take the steps and open the door, not liking what’s waiting for you on the other side.
“You?” Steve and you say at the same time, both with a confused look on your face.
“Are you following me?” you ask. 
“Are you ever going to leave me alone, why are you everywhere?” he asks, annoyed. 
“Just give me that and disappear from my sight!” You take the boxes of pizza off his hands and he sighs in relief. 
“You wish I was following you”
“I wish I could never see you again” You close the door on his face and get back down with the party, giving each of them a slice of pizza before taking your own. The campaign continues as the boys finish eating and clean their hands with napkins to keep the game away from the greasy food. 
Upstairs, Nancy and Jonathan arrive and Steve runs to the door. He didn’t expect to see you here, he didn’t expect to see Jonathan either. He rolls his eyes and hugs his girlfriend, kissing her in front of her friend. 
“I’ll go see my brother” Jonathan whispers, Nancy pushes Steve away and nods to her friend. Jonathan goes downstairs and as the party cheers for him, Steve takes Nancy to the dinner table. 
“Why is Byers and… his little sidekick here?” 
“Oh, you mean…? She plays D&D with the kids very often” she says, turning away “Why?”
“Nothing just… she ruined my life today because her little team of losers are going to the competitions instead of us” he scuffs, trying to keep her eyes on Nancy but he glares at the basement door, trying to forget he saw you again. 
“Oh my god! that’s wonderful I love how they play” She looks at her boyfriend and the anger on his face is clear “But you will get it next time, I’m sure of it”
There is no next time, why is everyone telling him that? Steve tries to kiss Nancy as if it’s going to help bring his anger from level 10 to level 1, instead, she turns her head away taking the casserole to have some dinner. 
Lucas talks to you about basketball, Steve can hear some of your conversation. Something along the lines of ‘yeah, I’ll be practicing tomorrow’ and ‘I’ll practice alone if that’s what they want’ He keeps his thoughts to himself, looking around the table. 
Everyone enjoys all the food Mrs. Wheeler cooks for them. The kids start eating at some point and the house fills with silence. This is the first time Steve and you share some time without bickering with each other. 
Decisions have been made. You needed to start practicing, even more than last month, so much more. 
“Agh” the ball falls out of your hands. You chase it down until you stop at the sight of a body. Steve. 
“Oh no, what is it this time? Did you rent the gym for one day and now I can't be here?”
“What? No” he says “I want to help you. You know, you need a partner to practice your moves”
You shake your head, he is right. 
“So I thought maybe I could help you-“
“I don’t need help,” you interrupt. 
“Yeah, alright. No help, uhm… I'll give you a hand?”
“That sounds worse” You roll your eyes at him then look at his face “Fine, let’s get this over with”
Practicing with Steve was stated as a nightmare. You are narrowly better at him, your moves are faster and less predictable. He is messy, and sometimes too slow.
Your bodies keep brushing with each other. 
First, it was his arm with yours, after he swung an arm in front of you to steal the ball. He succeeded. You shivered.
The second time you touched his leg after stealing the ball back. Your fingertips graze his hairy leg. He shivered too.
The third time he was behind you, blocking you from getting to the other side of the court. His hands come from each side of your body, his back is pressed slightly against you. You let out a quick sigh, keeping your hands on the ball and focusing on what you are doing. The room starts to feel warmer, you don’t know if it’s tiredness or something else. 
You turn around pressing your chest against him, bumping your chest against him. The ball comes out of your hands, flying towards the bleachers. It was like slow motion when Steve lost balance and wrapped his hand around your waist to get a hold of himself but instead, you fell with him.
You were on the floor. You were on top of him. Jolts of electricity flying around your body as you lock your eyes with his, his gaze is soft on yours, something that's never happened before.
His breath is mixing with yours, you catch the smell of his cologne blended with his deodorant and something else you can't get a hold of. This can’t be happening, you can’t be this excited to be close to him. 
He looks at you and gently places a strand of your hair back in its place. Fingers grazing your cheek and the back of your ear. His mouth is slightly open and so it’s yours. 
It’s confusing, How is he making you this nervous when you hate his guts? 
You stand up quickly. Chasing the ball and taking it under your arm. Steve stands up too shaking his head.
“I- I think we are both tired so if you don’t mind we can wrap up for today,” you say.
After a while, practice takes most of the time of your day. Both of you are exhausted but it was a nice chance to get better without interrupting your teammates afternoons who clearly said ‘We are okay with three days of practice.
“Sure, do you… Do you need a ride home?” Steve asks, his voice sounds lower as he takes a deep breath. 
“Yeah, yeah sure just let me call Jonathan” 
He nods. You both begin to stroll away from the gym, heading towards the parking lot. A fresh wave of air hits your forehead that was previously sticky and sweaty, you take a breath and get to the nearest phone at school. 
“Hey, so I don’t need a ride anymore I'm… I’m gonna go home with Steve”
“With? Steve?” Jonathan gasps, exaggerating unnecessarily. “Why is Steve there?” 
“He- he came by to train with me and we sort of lost track of time. You know I’ve been training daily” 
“I'm well aware. Surprised he is still alive even”
“Don’t be dramatic, he was nice for once and it’s helping me if I want to win” Your fingers start to tangle on the phone cord, playing with it to ease your mind “I’ll see you tomorrow, tell Will I said hi”
“Tomorrow. I will when I get home”
“Where are you?” you ask.
“I’m i- I’m at Nancy’s”
“At Nancy’s?” your voice sounds louder than intended. 
“Shhh shut up, Steve is going to hear you and he is going to run here and interrupt. We are finishing our project, don’t start-“
“Are you going to make out?” 
“No, dude. We are not going to— she… listen carefully and don’t say a word” he whispers “We kind of… kissed. She kissed me. I followed”
“OH MY GOD” a very quiet ‘shhh’ comes from the other side of the line as you scream. 
“Don’t tell!”
“I won’t! but doesn’t that count as cheating?”
“I don’t know, I was just caught up in the moment I haven’t thought about that sort of thing”
“Well, she kissed you first. It’s not like you are responsible for this… maybe a little bit but don’t be scared” You sigh, this turned out to be more complicated than fun “Listen, I gotta go We’ll talk tomorrow”
“K, don’t kill Steve!”
“Don’t make me promise something I might end up doing. Bye”
You hang up the phone, run to Steve’s car, and get in so both can get home. The ride home isn’t long, it takes about 15 minutes of uncomfortable silence and the old songs on the radio to make you sleepy. 
After saying thank you and goodbye to Steve, you go into your house and plop on the couch Reflecting on everything that has occurred in the past few hours. What is changing in you?
Tumblr media
REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR. welcome to my new series and stay tuned for the next chapter. you can join the tag list by commenting under this post. shout of to my friend Diana for helping me with this one after watching ‘she's the man’ and ranting about it. feedback is appreciated 🥰
104 notes · View notes
jennycalendar · 10 months
Text
coming back with some more thoughts on ted lasso --
i did not like how they handled sam. i think it's a mark of progress and how far things have come but at the same time a spotlight on the new problems created by underlying racism/racial anxiety, even within the most loving narrative.
sam's storyline was all over the place! there is definitely a through-line, but none of the things he faces are about him Growing and Learning, really, because he is Already Perfect And Good. his narrative purpose is to serve as an example of how a good dad can positively impact you going forward, which is great, but they will just throw random shit at him like the stuff w/ edwin akufo and then just never fully resolve it! i think it's so so clear that they were making an effort to research and represent nigerian culture, which is wonderful in and of itself, but there is this really sticky issue with race within ted lasso that keeps showing up and i do not like it.
edwin akufo is a one-note character who shows up, torments sam, and then disappears from the narrative after he is bested by rebecca, without ANY explanation as to how this besting impacts his stuff with sam. are we to assume that, because his plans for a football league fell through, he's backed off re: sam? his frankly obscene amount of wealth which the narrative CONSTANTLY alludes to is very clearly more than enough for him to torment sam until the end of time, and he very clearly expresses a desire to do this -- yet the finale shows sam ostensibly a part of the nigerian team, with no bumps or hiccups! edwin akufo is never brought up again!
and also like, shandy? why was she necessary? we have only had two women of color in semi-regular roles and one of them is presented as an impulsive, unkind, selfish nightmare. it really fucking sucked to see that, and it feels weird that ted lasso's line of defense against negative portrayals of women of color is having one Really Really Good One and one Really Incredibly Bad One. there was no need for shandy to be a woman of color if her entire point was to Be Terrible and Then Leave. she was a wholly unnecessary character to begin with & to make her a woc is just icing on top of the cake.
BUT I DIGRESS. i'm bugged the most by sam because, outside of nate, he is the nonwhite character who gets the most screen time! (and the fandom racism towards nate TURNS MY STOMACH, but that is not actually an issue that exists within the text of the show itself, so i'll leave that alone!) i think there was definitely an understanding within the writers' room that portraying a dark-skinned black man as sensitive, soft, and emotionally intelligent was a deeply important move for representation, but they just did not go that extra mile and actually create a consistent storyline for sam. he could have absolutely been that gentle, perfect guy without throwing in That Cartoon Villain Ghanaian Billionaire who shows up to yell at him and be terrible and ruin his life (and then, after one angsty episode in s3, disappear without explanation, clearing the way for sam to do whatever he wants).
it kinda reminds me of colin -- that finale bugged me re: him too a little! certainly it was utterly wonderful to see him kiss his fella at the end of the game, but the way we left things with him was very clearly "the team knows, and that's enough for me." this guy has been closeted for the entire time he's been a football player. telling the team was already so much more than he ever planned to do. kissing his boyfriend in public in the middle of the pitch, where any number of cameras would likely have picked up on them both??? PEOPLE ARE GOING TO SEE THAT. i found that one really hard to swallow as well.
it just bugs me because there is absolutely this understanding of systemic oppression that hovers around the edges of ted lasso, but then they will do things like everything that they did with sam! an awareness that There Is A Problem, but no time spent on the solution. and i totally understand that, tonally speaking, systemic oppression is not ted lasso's focus -- but this season they went out of their way to Make It Their Focus! & yet we get this absolutely bizarre storyline for sam where they just don't tell us what happened or why akufo backed down or ANYTHING. despite multiple hour-long episodes this season. don't like it.
20 notes · View notes
Text
Barbie was so good?!? Fucking loved every minute of it, but special shout-out to some things...
(BARBIE SPOILERS below the cut)
This movie was so funny, I can't get over how fucking funny and camp it was, an actual masterpiece 11/10
"This movie is overly feminist and man-hating" - THIS MOVIE AIN'T FOR YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO WATCH THE SHITTY FLASH MOVIE THEN IF YOU'RE SO MAD
(haven't actually seen the flash, have seen a few clips on twitter and i'm glad i haven't, i don't want to, don't @ me)
I'll be honest, I had very few Barbie dolls growing up, I had a medium sized doll house that was not for Barbie-height-toys, and so most of my toys were random figurines collected over the years (shout-out to the McDonald's Happy Meal Narnia toys!), but I was still getting pumped at the beginning of this film when the narrator went into detail about how Barbie can have any career, any life she wants etc.
The attention to detail in Barbie-land, like the pools/sea are all flat and not actually wet, there’s no actual liquid in the cups when they drink, no water in the shower etc.
Look, I will fully admit that HOTD has fucked my brain and my taste in men up, and so I'm blaming that for me looking at Ryan Gosling as Ken and going "yes I would like to obliterate that twink" 🙈
There were a lot of kids in my screening who absolutely did NOT get the "beach you off" joke, meanwhile I was sitting there laughing embarrassingly loudly like an idiot
Why was Allan a whole ass mood, I'm sorry but he was so relatable, arguably the best character I fear-
I like that weird-Barbie is basically what a lot of girls go through with their Barbies at a certain age by cutting off their hair, drawing on them with pens, etc. Like that’s a mood, my sister and I used to wash our Barbies’ hair and draw fake tattoos on them with felt tips 💀
“Do you ever think about dying? 😃” took me out oh my fucking god 💀 I already had one existential crisis this weekend watching Oppenheimer, I don’t need another one from Barbie of all things 😭
The way Ken says “because we’re boyfriend girlfriend” has the most random place in my heart and I don’t know why lol
The sheer horror over Barbie having flat feet LMFAO
Weird-Barbie having the dog where you feed it pellets and then use the tail so it shits the pellets back out?!? Me and my sister were like "oh my fucking god" because we literally had that fucking toy lmfao
Tumblr media
Weird-Barbie talking about Ken's smooth plastic bulge, I literally CHOKED-
Honestly just... Barbie entering the real world and being confused that men treat her like a sex object, being super uncomfortable, meanwhile Ken's like "they're looking at me appreciatively!"... oof
I nearly choked on my drink when Barbie loudly declared "I don't have a vagina and he doesn't have a penis!" like?!?!?
Barbie and Ken getting arrested not only once but TWICE... oh that's the content I'm living for lmao
I’m so so SO glad that the scene with Barbie and the elderly lady was kept in, I shed a tear because it was so beautiful and simple. When Barbie said that the lady was beautiful?!?! I’m a mess just thinking about it 😭❤️
Pleasantly surprised by the sheer amount of horsey content in this film like yes, that's 100% what the patriarchy should be, it should be about Kens riding horsies :D (I’m aware this is NOT the only thing that happened lmao I’m just saying that the world would be a better place with more horses)
America Ferrera is a fucking QUEEN and I adore her, I know HTTYD is over but she will always be MY Astrid, aka Chieftess Queen and Dragon-Rider
Not gonna lie, I felt Sasha’s little monologue where she rants about the unrealistic standards set by Barbie like I see both sides of what Barbie represents and how she can be viewed and I get it. Like on the one hand, hooray for girls growing up having a doll that can show them they can be Presidents, Nobel Piece winners, doctors etc., hooray for all the feminism to come from Barbie. But also you could argue that there’s unreal expectations in regards to Barbie’s body shape, and that when we girls grow up into women, we realise that the Real World is not as simple as what we dreamt of while playing with Barbies, that our world doesn’t revolve around having women in positions of power, that we still very much live in a society where women are viewed as being there solely for men, as home makers and wives and mothers, that we can have a certain amount of freedom and power but not too much etc.
Did I kind of guess "hey maybe it's not the daughter who has triggered Barbie's crisis, maybe it's the mother"? Yes, I guessed that early on but I still loved it anyway
I have no idea how Greta Gerwig got Mattel to agree to this script but holy shit, she must be magical or something
The spirit of Ruth Handler, aka THE creator of Barbie who named the doll after her daughter?!? Played by Rhea Perlman?!?!
Also I've only just learnt, after looking at Ruth Handler's wikipedia page, that Ken was named after her son?!?! Barbie and Ken are siblings?!?!
JOHN CENA AS MERMAN KEN?!?!
My sister was so delighted by the amount of Sylvester Stallone references in this film omg
DEPRESSION-BARBIE I WAS IN LITERAL FUCKING TEARS I COULDN'T STOP LAUGHING, AND SHE WAS WATCHING BBC'S PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!? WHILE EATING SWEETS?!? I CANT STOP CACKLING AND CRYING
Depression-Barbie also comes in other variations, including an anxiety one?!?! 🤣
I shit you not, I NEED America Ferrera to be nominated for supporting actress for all the awards because holy fUCK, her monologue?!?! That monologue?!?!
WHAT DO YOU MEAN ROB BRYDON AKA UNCLE BRYNN FROM GAVIN AND STACEY IS SUGAR DADDY KEN?!?!
“We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they have come.” - STOP I WAS ALREADY SOBBING
The Helen Mirren fourth wall break where she says that if the filmmakers wanted us to believe that Barbie was no longer pretty, "they shouldn't have cast Margot Robbie in this part", literally ICONIC
KEN’S FLUFFY TIE DYE HOODIE THING THAT SAYS “I AM KENOUGH” ASDFGHJKL I WANT ONE
Ridiculously glad that Ken and Barbie didn’t get together to be honest, yes I get it that Ken is designed as a boyfriend for Barbie but also it would have sucked to have this whole film play out as it did and then have them end up together 💀
The soundtrack of this film was IMMACULATE, 10/10, five stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
There’s a definite message and commentary here but I’m too stupid and tired to write it out, so I’ll reblog it from the people who are smarter and more eloquent than me instead but oh my good this film was such an amazing piece of cinema
This isn't everything about the film obviously, there was a lot going on and I'm still mentally processing it so I might add more to the post later but wow, just… wow.
Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes
bratshaws · 1 year
Text
goodness gracious 76. brb x oc
Tumblr media
THIS FIC IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS PLS DNI!
a/n: sometimes I don't call for the smut the smut calls for me uwu
check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!
pairing: plus size!oc x rooster
warnings: healthy relationship is based on TALKING, s m u t , god they are so in love i fucking HATE THEM ( jk i love them)
chapters:
1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44
45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64
65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75
(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)
taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix
@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls
@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2 @emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads
-
Beatrice stood by the sink, waiting for the tub to fill up, in a way that made Rooster stare at her in questioning. Her arms crossed over her chest and her body almost curled in a way it’d hide most of herself, one leg partially tilted over the other as she leaned on the floating counters. He didn’t know what was going on, but it reminded him painfully of their first time together.
He curses internally, thinking that if his attitude was enough for her to feel so uncomfortable to that point he probably hurt her more than she let on. When the tub is filled and already smelling really good, he turns to Beatrice whose eyes never leave the water’s surface, “Baby, do you want me to get in first?” green irises rose up to meet him, but she nodded with a small smile. No vocal response, that was getting worrisome. 
Beatrice’s form doesn’t change position once he’s in the water, her eyes now staring at nothing to the side and her arms even tighter around herself. “Baby.” he calls, gently, almost as if he’s trying to pry her off those dangerous thoughts he was sure were running in her head, “Aren’t you coming in?” he should prepare himself if she suddenly changed her mind, he wouldn’t like it, but he’d respect it no matter what.
The relieved sigh that left his lips however couldn’t be stopped, seeing she slowly started removing her own clothes - a bit too quickly, almost as if she wanted it to get over with - and he had almost no time to admire her body like he usually did before she got into the water…on the complete opposite side of the tub. He inhaled shakily, fear climbing up his spine like an angry spider ready to bite. “Bea.” he calls again, softly, making her worried eyes turn over to him, “Baby, come here.”
Her body moves as if she wants to, but something holds her back, her lower lip disappearing inside her mouth as she chews it anxiously, “I…” she didn’t feel pretty, or sexy that day. The words that woman tossed her way still haunted her hours later. Rebound. Tubby. Rebound. She knew it wasn’t true, she knew Rooster, but the doubtful anxious part of her brain couldn’t understand that at all. 
“I’m sorry for what happened, I–”
“It’s not you, Roos.” she cuts him off gently, rubbing her wet arms with both hands, looking to the side, “It’s just my brain is not helping me.” she whispers the last part, lowering her lids almost as if she’s ashamed of admitting it. She’s made so much progress and all it was needed was some random weird woman show up and make her doubt everything she ever worked so hard for.
And her boyfriend, while not fully aware of the whole reason, was already taking it on himself to make her feel better, “C’mere gorgeous.” he tries again and this time Beatrice does scoot closer, lying sideways on his chest with her arms still close to her body and her cheek on top of his warm pectoral. Bradley sighs gently, lowering his mouth to her head to kiss her scalp as his own arms wrapped around her, like a protective shield, “Your head can be very wrong a lot of times. Whatever it’s telling you, it’s not true.”
Beatrice just hums a weak reply, her eyes focused on the water ripples around his bent legs and her arms, “Do you want to share it with me? You don’t have to hold it in.” he questions, his mouth still on her scalp. She doesn’t reply, nor shakes her head negatively so he has to pull back to look down at her. Beatrice drags her big green eyes up to his face, her lower lip jutted just a bit,  but her face still had the same worried mask on.
He inhales, bringing her higher against his chest so her face is on the crook of his neck. Bradley then kisses the side of her face,rubbing his thumb on the outside of her wet arm while his other arm is wrapped around her waist, “I don’t know…how to explain.” she finally whispered, which was more than she said hours ago.
“I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere, so,” he whispers, kissing her temple this time, “Take your time.”
Beatrice’s back expanded with a deep breath she took in, for courage no doubt, the warm breathing hitting his neck when she exhaled, “...something happened today- I mean yesterday.” she corrected, remembering it was already past midnight, “Someone…um, showed up.” he showed no change in his body, he was still listening, “And she ah…well,” how could she say this and make it make sense? Even if part of her brain was screaming that it wouldn’t work. “She said she knew you.”
That made him still completely, the hold on her body tightening just a bit and Beatrice tilted her head to meet his eyes, seeing they were already looking down at her with a mix of worry and anger swirling in those whisky brown irises, “...and she…well…” she looks away, ashamed once more as she remembers the words she used to her, “She said some things to me.”
“What things?” his tone was hard, but not at her, she could feel it wasn’t directed at her.
“Just…” she didn’t want to repeat it, but she knew she had to so Rooster would know, “...well, she…ah…” it was harder than it looked but she was thankful he wasn’t pressuring her on saying it faster, “She just said you– that you.” do not cry, don’t you dare cry right now. She swallowed the lump in her throat, clenched her eyes to stop the burning of tears, keeping them closed when she tells him everything, “She said she didn’t think you’d be so desperate to be with me and…t-that you needed a rebound because she moved away and–and she called me…names.”
Beatrice feels his arms tightening even more around her, his body now tensing up visibly. She opens her eyes to check his face and she doesn’t think she had ever seen him so distinctly angry, looking like he’d murder anyone within his path. His nostrils flared, his tongue moved inside his mouth as he took in the information, “She saw you?” Beatrice nods, which only appear to make her boyfriend even angrier, “Fuckin’--” he doesn’t finish the sentence, she’s not sure if it’s because he was raised right by his mother and doesn’t usually talk bad on women or because he was too mad to actually finish it. 
“Roos?”
“I can’t fucking believe she went to you, how the fuck did she– I need to talk to Mav about this because she can’t do this shit.” he growls under his breath, the tendon on his jaw popping when he clenches it, “First she tries contacting me, which was already a fucking annoyance but she goes to you?? I’m not going to let her get away with this.”
Beatrice blinks up at him, pushing herself upwards so she’d be face to face with Rooster, “Wait, what? She contacted you?”
“Came out of fucking nowhere, I thought I blocked her on everything but it’s so possible she made a new account.” he groans, he was so angry he was starting to fidget in the bathtub with Beatrice still in his arms, like he was ready to jump out of it and fight someone, “We never had anything! We went out once and she started pulling this bullshit about how we were going to date, asking me about my parents and whatnot…Jesus Christ, this isn’t right– did she hurt you?”
“Well…not physically.” she murmurs, looking down at her hands, “She just,I guess she brought some of my fears back onto the surface, you know? And it…it really sucks.” because now she couldn’t get rid of it, she could not erase them from her mind. Bradley’s expression softened, he was still angry she could feel it in him, but he hugged her close, kissing the top of her head before adjusting her on his lap after lowering his legs.
“You are not a rebound.” he whispers against her hair, inhaling the lavender shampoo with his eyes glaring at the opposite wall, “You are not a replacement for anything, you are you. You are the woman I love and I fell in love with you for who you are. I love you, babe. I do. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” Beatrice’s cheeks turned red and her eyes shone with tears she didn’t want to shed, “I’m so fucking sorry she showed up like that, I…I really am.”
Beatrice smiles softly, her cheeks flexing enough to force a few tears down, tears that he either kissed away or wiped with his thumb. Her heart fluttered happily, even if her mind still disagreed with his words, she felt more at ease when he said that. She knew she was right deep inside, she knew the goblin voice was wrong - again - and that Chloe was wrong just as much, “I love you too.” she whispers in a shaky voice, sniffling a bit, trying to hold back the other tears that tracked down her cheeks, “It’s not your fault that she…showed up, you know?”
“Still, it was related to me in some way.” he murmurs, murder written all over his face, “She can’t do that, I don’t now if it counts as harassment or something but it’s bullshit.”
“Evelyn was there when she showed up.” Beatrice says,her body slowly easing some of the tension from before, “So…she called her dad and just that was enough to make her scurry away.”
Bradley looked up at her with his eyebrows slightly furrowed, then he thought of her words with his eyes to the side, “Yeah, it’d make sense, Cyclone can have a talk to her new superiors and tell them what happened. It won’t end well for her.” but he was still very annoyed by everything. How the fuck dare she go to Beatrice and tell her she’s a rebound. Rebound?? 
God he was so mad.
But his focus right now would be Beatrice,talking to her and making sure she understands that whatever Chloe told her is not true, “She started saying some stuff about you too.” Beatrice says softly, making circled on his chest with the tip of her index finger, “That…well, she said a lot of dumb stuff and I guess,I got really mad at her. I don’t know, she talked about you like you were…an idiot or something, and it fucked me up really bad.”
He didn’t know why he was surprised, knowing Beatrice, she’d be upset if she hurt her but she’d be downright furious if she messed with someone of her family, her friends but especially him. Even the little knot between her brows showed that she was getting even more upset just talking about it. Bradley’s lips twitched into a smile, his anger dissipating into adoration as he props his chin on her shoulder, “And you defended me.” she nods, without hesitation, “...God I don’t deserve you.”
“That’s not true.” she whispers, “Why would you say that?”
He couldn’t elaborate why, his own demons probably prevented him from forming an eloquent sentence that’d show why he felt that way and she’d still not believe him, “You are just…” he shrugs, not finishing his sentence yet again, but there was no anger in his tone, kissing her cheek soundly with his hands dropping from her body to hold her own, turning her to rest her back on his chest in the process, “Just you.” he interlaces their fingers together from behind her, her hands were so much smaller and softer than his.
Beatrice tilts her head back to look up at him, her pink lips parted showing parts of her white teeth, the movement gave him enough space to lean down and kiss her forehead, then trail kisses until he reached her neck, where he stayed, her soft hair touching his chin and chest, “You know I’m crazy about you, right?” he asks against her skin, making Beatrice nod in front of him, “You know there’s not a single woman in this whole wide world that drives me as insane as you do,right?”
Her smile returns, “In a good way?”
He squints his eyes playfully, “Most of the time, but I do like when you are a bit bad and tries to get something out of me.” he replies, bringing his lips to the curve of her jawline, loving how it made her giggle softly.
“I know Roos.” she whispered, “And while my brain sometimes gets…really bad, I know it’s just because of my own self doubts. I know you love me and I know that sometimes I still get…I know my mind gets the best of me.” he bends his legs up once more, caging her against his chest so he could keep her close, “I don’t doubt you. My brain may sometimes make me think I do, but I really don’t…it’s a bit confusing.”
Bradley chuckles, still kissing her soft skin and sighing against her neck, his body relaxing just having her there. “I know babe,I know.” he he drops one of his hands from her hold to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, rubbing his knuckles on the curve of her jawline, “I know your brain can be a bit of a brat and annoy the hell out of you and there are times it’ll also get the best of you.”
“Yeah…”
“But I’ll be here with you to get rid of those thoughts,” he assures her, her face breaking into a shy smile when she looks his way, “No matter what.”
“Even if it makes no sense?”
“Even if it makes no sense.”
Beatrice’s cheeks reddened, her smile getting even wider before she turns around and wraps her arms around his neck in a hug, their chests touching with the embrace and the water made it a bit hard for them to keep close since they were so slick but they did a good job. With his face buried on the curve of her neck and one of his hands on the back of her head, Rooster’s voice breaks the comfortable silence, “I thought you left.” he says softly, running his fingers through the brown strands, “When I didn’t see you, I thought you went back to your place. I got…I panicked.”
“I’m sorry.” was her reply on his shoulder, her smaller hands cupping her arms to keep herself close to his neck, “I had to use the bathroom and calm myself down a bit, Jojo followed me carrying my bag thinking I needed it and we stayed there for a bit. I honestly didn’t hear you calling me, I’m sorry.”
He hums against her skin, closing his eyes in relief “It’s okay.” he whispers, pulling his head back the same time as she did, her sweet apologetic smile only warming his heart even more, “I forgive you.” she laughs softly at his response, cupping his face with her hands, rubbing his cheekbones fondly before she kisses his lips in a quick peck. “We should wash up.” he comments, while his hands move to her thighs under the warm water, spreading them enough to make her straddle his lap, “But, I’m honestly thinking about something else.”
“Oh?” she asks with her lips hovering over his, “Is that right?” He nods, kissing her once more but this time the kiss was a lot deeper and his huge hands traveled all the way back to her behind where he cupped each cheek with gusto, pressing her front of his and making Beatrice gasp softly into his mouth. Beatrice’s hands traveled all the way up to his sandy brown hair, a groan vibrating his throat at the feeling of her nails touching his scalp, gently tugging the strands.
It doesn’t take too long for Beatrice to feel what he means, quite literally. She adjusts herself on his lap just enough for him to slowly slide in, a whiny sigh going past her lips when he hilts, her arms draped once more around his neck. She breaks the lip lock to look down at him, his eyes partially open as well and his lips red and flushed from kissing, one of his hands going from her buttcheeks to her back then her chest, sighing out when her hips moved slowly on top of him.
“Fuck, you are a fucking vision.” he whispers, watching how her brown hair darkened and glued to her skin because of the water, how her cheeks flushed a darker shade of red, how it traveled all the way down to her chest like a beautiful crimson wave. Beatrice’s only response was a quiet moan, her hips moving in a wave motion, her arms still wrapped around his neck to keep her steady.
The warmth of the water, followed by how warm their own bodies were was actually having a cooling effect on both of them for some reason, he couldn’t understand how since there wasn’t anything in the water that would cause this effect but he wasn’t complaining. Beatrice’s green eyes were now only a ring because of her dilated pupils, her lips parted, shiny and pink, like fresh berries he wanted to bite. 
Neither of them were in a hurry, which considering everything that was spoken about minutes before it could be understandable. It wasn’t only about pleasure, there was reassurance in both of their movements. The unspoken words of ‘I’ll never leave’ were being said by their bodies, the ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I’m sorry’ was more than enough for them. Bradley’s eyes never left her body on top of him, not even looking at her flushed chest but directly on her face. 
Beatrice drops her forehead to his, her arms lowering from his neck so her palms would be on his chest, one of them right atop of his heart. He could endure the worst situations, the most dangerous missions but he could never see himself without her. “Bea.” he calls softly, making her eyes blink open, unfocused but then meeting his, “I love you.”
“I love you too,Brad.” she replies, her voice breaking into a moan at a specific thrust coming from him, her nails digging on his pectorals just enough to make him wince but not enough to make him stop. He just had one of his hands on her ass, the other was on her upper back, fingers tangling with the wet strands of her hair.  
He wanted to tell her, to ask her now, what he wanted to do. He wanted to let her know how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her in his life…but no, not now, not when they were both having sex in a bathtub, she’d think he’s saying it just out of emotion instead of it being thought out completely.
Just a few more days, then her birthday, then the move and then he’d work on it. Right now he should enjoy this. And he was. Beatrice moaned one more time, her hips moving a bit faster to meet his, the water sloshing around them with a few drops of water falling on the tiles. He groans deeply in his chest, with Bea’s lighter one following when both of them decided it wasn’t going to last too long,  the laborious movement was no longer going to be needed right now.
He cups both of his hands on her ass, giving himself some leverage while Beatrice yelped out a moan, holding on the edge of the tub behind him when his hips moved much,much faster than before. Her moaning was broken, chopped murmurs of his name trailed of her lips while her other hand clenched around his shoulder, “God!Brad!!” she whines, pressing her face to the muscle on his neck, trying her best to keep up with him. Beatrice’s whines got louder, her moaning sharper and the water kept on splashing on the floor creating large puddles that undoubtedly would be quite dangerous when they stepped out.
He breathed heavily against her neck, his nails digging on the plush flesh of her buttocks and hips, until neither of them could prevent what happened. Never, in neither of their lives, had they ever felt such a thing before. Never had them ever climaxed with someone else at the same time.
Beatrice’s hips convulsed and her voice cracked, while Bradley’s cursed moan alongside his hips thrusting shallowly onto hers added to the sounds around them. With her hips still moving with aftershocks and Rooster’s doing the same, neither of them acknowledged what just happened until a few minutes after the high had finally passed. Beatrice whined on his neck, hips moving just a bit with him still inside of her before he lifted her head, “Brad?” her boyfriend was breathing heavily, leaning his head back on the edge of the tub and exposing his heavily flushed throat for her eyes.
Bradley’s eyes fluttered closed, still sensitive over the orgasm they both shared and keeping his hands on her lower body, “Fuck, baby…” he mutters, biting back a groan when she moved on top of him “Fuck that was good.”
“It always is.” her reply makes him grin, lifting his head from the edge to meet her eyes, her shining eyes and equally shining smile with her hands cupping his cheeks and bringing their lips together in another slow romantic kiss but lighter than the deeper one from before, “Are you okay?”
“I’m always okay.” he smirks, pecking her lips a few more times, “I think right now, we should finally wash up.” he chuckles against her mouth, making her laugh at the same time, agreeing with him.
-
The pizza was only ordered minutes after they were both done and smelling fresh and clean as he called them. They were both enjoying it on the couch, not so different from that time he was about to go to her aunt’s wedding, watching Rupaul’s Drag Race - season 11 this time - with Jolene chewing on a few doggy treats that Beatrice brought along.
Beatrice couldn’t keep her eyes off of Bradley as he sipped his soda, her legs on his lap and one of his hands rubbing her calf repeatedly. He felt her eyes on him, his lips quirking in a smile with the glass still tilted up, pulling it back to look at her, “What?” he asked gently, loving that she was wearing just her long shirt and comfortable Beetlejuice cotton shorts that showed so much skin.
She hummed, chewing her pizza with the same smile he had on his face,”I’m just thinking,”
“About?”
“Stuff.”
“Ah,” he nods as if he completely understood what she meant, putting his glass on the coffee table so both of his hands are now free, “Of course, stuff. What is this stuff you are thinking about?” she was so happy they were back to normal, especially with her brain being quiet and no longer putting seeds of doubt in her.
Beatrice smiles, licking her fingers clean of any sauce and keeping eye contact when she does so. Bradley’s brown irises dropped to her digits disappearing, one by one, inside her mouth before being popped out with a soft sound, “Just thinking about what’s going to happen when we move in together.” he hums in response, still looking at her mouth and fingers, then moving his eyes back to her own amused gaze, “We could look some stuff up tomorrow and you know, check when it’s available for moving.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with the same smile, “I think it’s fair. I think we can find a good place soon.”
“I can call my cousin Gabriella if you want, she’s a real estate agent.” she suggests, “She helped Leo find his house, so.”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.” he grins, grabbing the plate from her hands so he could crawl on top of her, supporting his weight by her sides, “I know what we can do the moment we move in,” he coos, dropping his lips to the curve of her jaw. Beatrice makes a questioning sound, which makes him reply with, “I think we should christen every room, at least twice.” that makes a laugh break out of her lips, tilting her head back and exposing more of her neck to his lips, “It brings good luck.”
“Uh huh,” she replies clearly not believing him, “And where did you see such a thing?”
“Somewhere, I don’t know.” Another laugh comes from Beatrice at his nonchalant reply, “But I know it’s good.” He kisses her throat a few more times, pulling his head back to look down at her. Her lips still curved into that beautiful smile, her hands coming up to rub his cheeks. His heart thudded wildly just by thinking about it, thinking about their future together, “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.” she says, her eyes softening the longer she looked at him, “I’m a bit nervous but..it’s the good type of nerves.” she reassured him immediately when he stilled on top of her, his body relaxing when he sighed out a breath. “Did you tell anyone about it?”
Bradley purses his lips, then tilts his head partially to the side, “I had to tell Mav, he was…really happy.” to put it mildly, he feared he’d give his godfather a heart attack by the way Pete was looking at him all wide eyed and opening and closing his mouth, “I’ll tell the others later.”
Beatrice nods, then pauses,looking to the side, “I think…I told Shells,Penny and Ev…without really noticing.” she whispers, meeting his eyes again, “When uh…Chloe showed up I kind of let it slip, so…I’m surprised Shells hasn’t messaged me yet about it.” but maybe it was better this way, she’d tell her parents last. 
Rooster sat back down on the couch, pulling her alongside him so she could sit on his lap, kissing her temple with his arms wrapping around her waist, “We’ll be fine.” he tells her, but the words held more weight than just about moving in together. It was about everything. It was a promise both of them planned to keep.
‘Yeah.” she whispers back, smiling while looking at the TV, “We will.”
107 notes · View notes
madaranuii · 6 months
Note
YESSS he would so take you shopping to watch you change into skimpy clothes just to say no to see you plead and whine and give a yes to see her joy...
while shopping for panties n bras people would def mistaken him for your boyfriend... he'd def love the lacey sexy stuff on you yet i could see him lean towards more cute... like sexy for the special occasions
ALSO SO GLAD YOUR ENJOYING GENSHIN im not sure if your ar 16 yet but i can give you my uid for my main if youd like :3 buut id rather message it if u dont mind !!
I CANN AUGHH and imagine him holding her... cuddled up... against his chest as his head is by your ear speaking so closely
OMFGG HE WOULD, HE'D INWARDLY GET OFF SO MUCH ON U BEGGING 4 THE CLOTHES, ACTING ALL CUTE + POUTY (���≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)!!!
LMFAO THAT COULD GO EITHER 1 OF 2 WAYZ TBH W BEING ASSUMED 2 BE UR BF, HE'D EITHER BE LIKE "Eh? whatya' sayin? do we look nothin alike or somin'? that's fuckin weird last time I checked she was my daughter" ++ LIKE MAKE IT SO AWARE HEZ UR DAD INCASE THERES ANY PERVZ ABOUT ORR he'd fully embrace the role of being ur "boyfriend" - as a joke he'd tell u- but inwardly it'z 2 indulge in something he knowz he usually can't be in public hehez ++ it gives him so much leniency w/ being so bold since it'z not strange for bfz 2 be super touchy esp in a underwear store, so ass slapz + gropez aren't commented on ;333
++ WAAAAH IM NOT AR 16 YET SOBZ SOBZZ IM ONLY AR 8 I THINK?? BUT I CAN POST MY UID HERE IF IT'Z EASIER? :33 (none of my online friendz play genshin so I don't have 2 worry abt anythin like them finding out this acc through it!! ୧⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠^⁠)⁠୨ ᰔᰔ)
SPEAKIN OF GENSHIN . 1 OF THE NEW CHARAZ HAS ME FUCKIN ON MY HANDZ + KNEEZ ++ I KNOW FUCK ALL ABT HIM LMFAOOO I THINK HIS NAME IS WRIOTHESLEY... BUT HOLY FUCK......... DROOLZ... HEZ SO DILF CODED IN DESIGN... IF ONLY GENSHIN DIDN'T GIVE LITERALLY EVERY 1 BABY FACES WEEPZSOBZ THAT DUDE NEEDZ 2 HAVE DILF LOOK W STUBBLE OR SOMETHIN ..... he's real fuckin hot thou....... HEART EYEZ...
2 notes · View notes
Text
dialogue prompts
so i think this is the fifth one of these I've done, but if you don't know what's up, people say weird shit around me, and i love it so much that i turn a lot of the quote into dialogue prompts. so yeah. here are those
“Well that’s a pain in the potatoes.”
“He bought her a whole bag of dicks.” “This was your grandma, you said?”
“I don’t know if you can tell from the everything about me, but I used to be a theater kid.” “Oh I know.”
“Have you met them? They have the weirdest hyperfixations imaginable. They’re like this all the time.”
“They’re crazier than a shopping cart full of seagulls.”
“What the fuck did you do?” “You weren’t supposed to be back yet.”
“These are straight people problems. Can I leave?”
“I need you to look at my tits.”
“You need a boyfriend.” “You need to mind your business.”
“I am fully not wearing a shirt.” “Dude.”
“Pringles are the devil, did you know that?”
“Have you ever had a really bad hangover? Actually don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”
“You wake up as Mother Gothel and somehow walk out the door as Rapunsel.”
“Pants!!! Pants!!!”
“I’m just trying to get you laid dude.”
“You’re acting like your boyfriend broke up with you and you’re on your period, what’s up?” “... So one of those is correct.”
“Why are you sitting on the floor eating peanut butter?”
“Avocado is considered a fruit.”
“Is everyone questioning everything they’ve ever learned? Good.”
“You’re not annoying, don't worry.” “Well I certainly wasn’t worried before.”
“‘And ‘I’ll fuck up a cheesecake’ is a scientific term, just so you’re aware.”
“Did you just say men are stupid? No, it’s okay, you’re right, I just wanted to be sure.”
“He ghosted you? Twice? Want me to beat the shit out of him?”
“I don’t get paid enough, I can tell you that right now.”
“Oh so you started young with your drum obsession.”
“I was supposed to go to law school.” “...you WHAT?”
“I may have yelled at someone.” “That tracks.”
“I thought you didn’t like science?” “I don’t. I do like fire though.”
“You know what? Fuck you. Oh not you, I’m sorry.”
“Did he just call you autistic?” “Well, was he wrong?”
“Use your brain for more than five seconds please.” “…Oh my god?” “And there we go.”
“You’ve never been on a first date? I don’t believe you.”
“Life got really weird, okay?”
“I’m so sick of jelly beans.”
“Can you please think like an average person and not like the anarchist you are for a minute?”
“Where did that swan come from? No, seriously, we’re not near a body of water, there shouldn’t be a swan here.”
*laughing* “Oh my god, that’s awful.”
“Here’s the thing, amputations were pretty common in the 19th century right? So was binding books with human skin. In conclusion-”
“I just told a man to sit like I was talking to a dog.”
“I’ve gotten called a bitch three times today, okay? You can’t hurt me.”
38 notes · View notes
sins-of-the-sea · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
//As much as OOC I am poly as fuck, I am fully aware that poly relationships are NOT for everyone, and it should NOT be forced upon anyone or else it’ll fuck up everything that relationship had going (and lead to breakage of trust). With that said, in probably keeping with her Envy theme, I wonder if Abena is capable of being in a polycule of any sort with Josep.
On one hand, polygamous unions and marriages aren’t that weird to her, and she and her sisters had multiple boyfriends (sometimes at the same time!) during her years as among the Brethren of the Coast. Even when her and Josep’s love were starting to bloom, he had no qualms with her sleeping with someone else (though this is mostly because of Josep’s touch aversion at the time and he knew better than to deny Abena’s needs).
But on the other hand, she is Envy. While not necessarily possessive of Josep, she is definitely the kind of woman who’d get quickly lost in the throes of intense jealousy if some bitchass ho makes eyes at her beloved. Yes, I know ‘envy’ and ‘jealousy’ are entirely different concepts, but they are often grouped together for a similar reason: feeling hostile towards anyone regarding having something you do or do not possess. Abena is very much the kind of person who will sabotage the success of other people for having something she does not have or will not ever be able to have that she wants. She destroyed lives on Tortuga and she has assisted in destroying more as one of the Seven Deadly Sin Pirates. So how much she is willing to “share” her love with Josep, I am uncertain where I draw the line.
Tumblr media
I will note, though, that Abena’s acts of sabotage should not be confused with how Giovanni does it in the name of Greed. Abena commits sabotage against the people who slight her for taking/having what she wants but can’t have. Giovanni commits sabotage to keep the objects of his affection from ever wanting to look at anyone else who isn’t him. So jealousy runs both here, but Abena would attack the third party (the one taking away) while Giovanni would attack the second party (the one being taken away). So there are different degrees of possessiveness.
Tumblr media
.....yeah, you can imagine the kind of fuckery Josep had to deal with when he was caught up with jealousy running rampant between both Abena and Giovanni as he was discovering real romantic love with Abena. Thankfully things smoothed out and Abbi and Gio became fond of each other in their own terms, but WEWLAD. Poor guy was so overwhelmed and confused.
6 notes · View notes
jabberwockprince · 8 months
Note
your tags on the studio heartbreak post are incorrect, they have never done nfts nor is there any evidence they have done so. they have actively said they dislike nfts. it's a harmful rumor about a collection of independent artists.
damn it's crazy how there's no proof about one of their members, lead director alicemaoart, doing nfts under a different account named alicedotxyz or the official studio heartbreak account making a statement that pretty much confirms these accusations were all real
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
screenshot 1 / screenshot 2 / screenshot 3 / screenshot 4 /
and not weird at all to see popheadz, the nft company this artist has worked with, constantly show up in any comments made against her
Tumblr media Tumblr media
tweet 1 / tweet 2 (original qrt now deleted, sadly)
and then the artist herself posting these in instagram stories (obviously I can't link these since they're instagram stories and her instagram also seems to have been deleted?)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
granted, the official statement released by the studio does mention "outdated comments by one of [their] directors" that "don't reflect her current views or efforts" - if the artist stopped making NFTs, good for her! people are allowed to grow and change their mind and be given the benefit of the doubt! if she's really stopped making NFTs, then I personally would fucking LOVE to support the studio because as filipino diaspora im fucking starving for content about my culture
Tumblr media
the harassment she faced is definitely fucked up (considering all of her socials are blank, gone or private) and there IS something to be said about the harsh scrutiny LGTBQ+ and POC creators go through constantly. or example, Kitfox Games adding a warning in Boyfriend Dungeon for a toxic shitty stalker because people wouldn't stop complaining about it AND harassing the VA who provided the voice for said stalker. some of the hate studio heartbreak is getting DOES come from that shitty mindset and some criticisms come from ppl genuinely upset that. this artist was specifically doing nfts in secret bc she was fully aware of the backlash she would receive
but whether you want to separate her career from studio heartbreak or not, that's up to you - i think people who want to support this film (because HEY. WE FINALLY GET. CONTENT FOR US. LITERALLY CATERED TO US ABOUT PEOPLE LIKE US IN PLACES WE RECOGNIZE AND ALL. I GET IT) for whatever reason despite this nft stuff coming up are in the right to do so. and the people who don't want to support it because their lead director makes/used to make nfts in secret or for whatever other reason is also fair. personally i dropped out of supporting them after seeing the pics above
the official statement also apologizes for the lack of tact when these nfts started coming up, which is good! cause posting fish titties in an attempt to get ppl to forget the issue sure is. a fucking choice
no clue how to end this post, so hey have a nice day!
3 notes · View notes
gretavangroupie · 9 months
Note
I love your writing and I love Vigilance, but I love to hate Y/N in that story. I am fully aware that she is reader insert, therefore, technically me, but I still love to hate that bitch. There are times in the story where I have fully been like "Jesus fucking Christ, boys, I'm not worth all that."
She doesn't deserve Andy or anything seriously traumatizing to happen to her but, like......I'm kinda rooting for Summer to have her bad bitch moment. I also feel super bad for Elle that Sam still can't yank his head out of Y/N's comparatively lame ass; she deserves better! Hell, I even feel bad for Jake's bitchy ex. I'd probably get fed up at my boyfriend constantly choosing a wishy washy lame bitch who has caused both him and his brother shitloads of pain and turmoil over me at every turn, too.
I promise that I love the story and this was meant to be a compliment....I just have a weird perspective at times. I don't always see things the way I'm probably meant to!
I love a good hot take…
3 notes · View notes
kissmejusttokiss · 1 year
Text
Strangerdale: Wayne Munson Edition
(Note, these are pretty much word for word transfers of tweets between myself and @grandmastattoo, any errors have been corrected but there’s very little editing has been done other than that.)
(Important information: Wayne is in a doomed romance with Fred Andrews. It is doomed because Vecna is in love with Wayne and will ultimately kill Fred to try and get his man. Also, Wayne/Vecna/Cheryl (and maybe Megan (of killer doll fame) at some point but that’s unimportant for this post) are in one of the only group chats that exist within Strangerdale.)
Wayne is fully aware of all the strange(r) things happening around town, he sees an awful lot with the weird hours he keeps for work, but he just chooses to mind his own business until it starts affecting him or Eddie (or, as Eddie gets closer with the others, Eddie’s friends.)
Genuinely, like, Wayne was fully aware of the Gargoyle King from the very beginning, because he was driving home from a late shift one night and almost hit the geezer with his car. He would have investigated further but he wanted to make sure he was home before Eddie went to school, so he just left it.
He also is fully aware that Jughead and Eddie are half-brothers. He planned on telling them when the Riverdale gang first turned up, but then he saw how much Eddie hated Jughead and thought it was better to just leave it.
He & Fred Andrews provide most of the parental support in Strangerdale. (They also carpool together to Steve and Archie’s games and always take the boys (and Eddie ofc) for dinner at Pops no matter whether they win or lose.)
Was once part of the Southside Serpents but does not consider this information important or relevant.
Can make a mean roast dinner.
He films every school musical/play that Eddie takes part in (and is pleasantly surprised with how many that has been since the Strangerdale kids arrived) with the same eagerness as the mum from Mean Girls.
The flashback version of Wayne is played by the same actor wearing a backwards cap like that one scene in saw:
Tumblr media
 Is close friends with Megan (the doll).
Wayne’s Halloween Costume: (credit to @grandmastattoo entirely for this)
Tumblr media
Gotten straight out of the back of his wardrobe because he hadn’t planned on going out for Halloween. He drops a cheeky pic in the group chat and Vecna nearly combusts on the spot. Cheryl, meanwhile, is unimpressed. “God it’s just so uncreative Mr. Munson… You can’t just wear your date night outfit out for Halloween…” (while Vecna is having a nosebleed in his nightmare realm).
Fred Riverdale shows up to their little dad gathering in the same outfit because he's on a mission. Everyone wants to hook up with Wayne on Halloween, meanwhile he's trying to convince Eddie that he’s not too old for them to trick or treat together. Wayne doesn’t even realise he’s a sex-symbol around town, he’s just minding his own business being hot while everyone throws them self at him (the only reason people put up with a twenty-year-old Eddie Trick-o-Treating is because Wayne is always with him.)
Wayne & His Many Romances:
(Best summarised by this quote from known menace and character of the year, Murray B after being invited for beers with Fred, FP, Wayne and Hopper “And you all used to fuck?!”)
It’s not a question of who he did bang but a question of who he didn’t…
Also, btw, Gladys is Wayne’s sister. So I just want to take a moment to imagine the first time she brings her new boyfriend home for dinner. Wayne & FP just sit across from each together like:
Tumblr media
Wayne & Fred (Romance of the Century):
(Their origins: kind of obsessed with how my brain went from “Fred & Wayne have the same vibes, they would be friends” to “do you think they ever explored each other’s bodies” (but, also, the answer is yes… they were the og Steddie)
Their reconciliation comes mostly after Eddie takes part in the gauntlet (see this post).
Wayne sees how much pain his boys are in and it kicks something loose in him. When Steve finally goes back inside after talking to him, Wayne forces himself up despite his aching knees, gets into his truck and drives all the way to Fred’s house. He’s not sure what he’s even planning on doing until he gets there. He just knows that he has to go. Fred answers the door in his pyjamas, his eyes still filled with sleep, but he takes one look at Wayne, who still has flecks of blood on his shirt, and lets him in. “Coffee or something stronger?” “Something stronger.” “Yeah, I figured it might be one of those nights.”
(Warning: Tragedy!) The two are tentatively considering rekindling the old flame and had just agreed to get back together. Then they get stuck in Vecna’s realm and Fred makes the sacrifice because Eddie needs Wayne more than archie needs him. Wayne is there while he dies in Archie’s arms, so much he wants/needs to say but letting them have their moment.
(Soundtrack moment: Billie Eilish - TV “And I'll be in denial for at least a little while, What about the plans we made?”(season four, episode 26: plays during the scene after Fred’s death where Wayne is going through old photos of the two of them and reminiscing about what could have been)
Vecna immediately drops a message into his and Cheryl’s group chat post-Fred Riverdale’s murderification, thanking her for the advice (get rid of anything standing in your way!) and she loses her mind while trying to explain that she DIDNT MEAN MURDER?!?
(He treats vecna-ing wayne like it's a date. Wayne's scrambling for the exits and vacna's curling a tendril around his finger like 'omg what *are* we'. There’s no horrors except the base horror of Vecna’s twisted mind, but there is a table with a two glasses of wine and some candles (their server is a demobat in a waistcoat…)
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
what-gs-watching · 5 months
Text
“I’m 903 years old, and I’m the man who’s gonna save your lives.”
Well. My fridge has decided to completely die, which is really fun, and I’m fighting with Lowe’s to get it delivered tomorrow even though I know that’s absolutely not going to happen, and I had a phone screen with a recruiter for a company I’m dying to work for and I’m anxious as hell about a bunch of things suddenly, and that’s annoying as hell.
SO I’m still hunkering down in content because that’s just what ya do. Even though the dangerously low simmer my brain has been on has been causing problems in my life, I’m not ready to give in and boot up just yet. 
But what I AM doing is getting EXTREMELY excited about the Doctor Who 60th anniversary episodes, so we’re gonna dive into it. Because we have to. 
Doctor Who is a thing for me. Doctor Who is sitting in a stingy apartment outside of Boston with my roommate (who I had a major crush on, and eventually became my husband, which is definitely its own story) and watching episodes on a shitty laptop while we drank beers late into the night. I remember losing my mind when we found out who the Face of Boe was, my heart breaking during Rose’s goodbye. 
My husband had seen it all at that point, he brought me into it and he enjoyed watching me watch it more than watching it himself. I asked a million questions, constantly,  and he refused to tell me anything. At one point my inner monologue became extremely British and I had to resist shouting “OI!” at him when he was being a jerk. Doctor Who wove its way into our extremely weird love story; I fell for the Doctor while falling for him. 
So it’s really no surprise how obsessed over David Tenannt’s 10th Doctor I was. I mean, he was the first boyfriend Doctor, right? You could argue 9 was, but in this house, we don’t really talk about 9. You get through 9 and then you get to amazing, perfect, wonderful 10 and it’s all over. 
Also yes I’m very aware that I’ve said Matt Smith’s 11  is my number one Doctor and he absolutely is, but this is about 10. Because you have to separate them. The show is as good as it is because each of them are unique, while keeping that pulse of doctor underneath. And David does it so beautifully. 
 Like everybody probably, I did really love the Rose/Doctor relationship on the first watch. Boyfriend Doctor is supposed to have that little romantic string, right? And he was so sweet with her - burning out a sun to say goodbye. That got me. The moment he tells her she could spend the rest of her life with him, but he couldn’t do the same. 
Maybe for me the appeal of the Doctor though is the loneliness of it, and  it drips from 10. He’s fully inside of his feelings about being the last of the Time Lords, and he’s always so sorry when things go wrong. He wants to be with humans, he wants to experience things with them but he feels guilty about it because he knows that it never, ever works out. He’s excited and resigned at the same time. I felt a lot of that. He was sad and he was beautiful. And everyone kept fawning over him.
Except, for Donna Noble. She is my favorite 10 companion by far. She takes no shit from that man and the bond they end up with is so pure. I love the fact that she tells him no the first time he invites her to travel with him; that mofo had just murdered a bunch of crazy spider babies, dripping wet and radiating fury, and she was. not. having. it. And she was right about that. He had to get through the Martha Jones mess and realize he’s just fucking about with these poor girls before he could deal with the absolute powerhouse that is Donna-effing-Noble.
Makes him help free a slave society from servitude? Check. Forces him to save at least someone from Pompeii even though it’s a fixed point in time? Yeap. Becomes half time-lord and saves his ass? Obviously. They complemented the hell out of each other; she made him better and he did the same. 
Honestly, if I could be any one of them, I’d be Donna. I’m a pain in the ass, too. Sometimes it’s fucking needed. Brilliant people, amazing, shining sparkling people need to be balanced out too. 
Her ending is by far the saddest one in 10’s adventures. He has to wipe her memories of him so her mind isn’t swallowed up by time lord power, and it’s devastating. She’d come into herself with him, and he had to sacrifice all of that to let her live. Back to her basic life. Back to that horrible grind of absolutely everything. She was gonna travel with him for the rest of her life. 
Which is why I’m SO excited to see how they bring the two of them back. If any companion deserves it, it’s Donna. Rose is set with her cloned human doctor, Martha is knocking about doing this and that with Mickey? Right? But poor Donna, trapped in that very human, very boring, very static life. But she’s gonna come back, and she’s going to put him in his place again, and it’s going to be brilliant. 
Did I cry a little bit (a solid bit) when I saw the first full trailer? 100% yes. Donna Noble is very much another one of my spirit animals. 
And David Tennant has taken up permanent residence in my brain. After Good Omens season 2 I obviously had to watch all of 10’s story again and now it’s all mashed up in Crowley (and the infinite Crowley’s I’ve devoured through a sheer metric ton of fanfic) and I kind of love that. That man is chameleon and fully inhabits every role he plays but seeing 10 after the Crowley of it all, it makes more sense somehow. 
I clearly want to believe there’s a universe out there where they exist together. 
I also am going to believe that this whole 60th anniversary thing came around just for me. Because what I need right now is more of 10, running and saving and running again, lonely and sorry and excited and beautiful, and older but not, and different but not. 
My love for 10 is wrapped in my love for a lot of things that happened in my life and I wouldn’t be having an existential crisis without him coming back to me, so maybe I can love some of the things that are happening in my life right now. He’s going to be 10 and 14 at the same time, and maybe that means I can be a few things at once, again. Instead of whatever it is that I am, now. Maybe I can bring those things together again. 
It’s good that 11 is a singular thing, a completed something. Because 11 for me is someone else, as much as it pains me. Which is something I’ll get to. But I need 10 to keep going, and I really can’t wait to see it. It’s going to fuck with me in all of those uncomfortable, perfect ways. 
It’s gonna be good, it’s gonna be glorious.  So: Allons-y.
Tumblr media
1 note · View note