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madmunson · 2 years

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word count; 10.1k

disclaimer; smut. fem!reader x eddie munson.

summary; fem!reader Y/N is required to do a partner assessment project on a student she hates, none other than Eddie Munson.

author's note; another short(ish) fic. i hope you guys enjoy this one !! i have more in the vault, and other stories coming out in a matter of days. i also plan on making mini imagines too, those should be up this week! and of course, as always, so sorry for the weird spacing !!

You had been a popular girl at Hawkins since before you could remember. As a child, it was beauty pageants, local commercial acting, getting dolled up for just about any camera that came your way. As a teenager, it was cheerleading practices, more beauty pageants, and forced smiles for anybody who asked even slightly polite. It wasn't that you necessarily hated your life this way, because you didn't, you just didn't entirely know who you were. You were sure this happens to every teenager though, identity crises left and right, but you never talked about that to your friends. It was still a subject you couldn't really bring yourself to talk about, the same way every teenager probably was. You'd genuinely never met anybody who talked about it, but seen it happening first hand. Kids you knew for years in the same popularity group switching up and doing things like photography or band, dressing differently, acting differently. It was the only reasonable explanation, in your mind.

It didn't matter where you were, it felt like cameras were on you at all times. Your parents taking videos at cheer in current times the same way they did at pageants before, people wanting your autograph because you lived in such a small town being in a few commercials practically made you famous there and cameras followed you in that sense, at school with your friends. It didn't matter. Ever since the Model 95 came out, everybody was obsessed. Only higher class people had polaroid cameras, though, as they were hard to come by and also expensive for film and everything of the sorts. That didn't stop them from being pointed in your face any chance you turned around.

Maybe you did hate it. You couldn't find a way out of it most days.

And this pageant would be no different. You'd flutter your eyes at the cameras some, smile, model walk, and step down. You would stare at every other girl around you, and wonder if they felt the same way. Maybe if you got enough girls that were living their mother's dreams and tired enough of doing so, you could revolt, demand for your lives back. But these girls looked happy to be there. You couldn't say you felt the same. Ever. You were never happy to be doing this shit. And truth be told, you had asked your family thousands of times to quit cheerleading, maybe quit the pageants, but they never allowed you to do so. They had you on a strict diet, strict routine, and even stricter schedule. Anything that went outside of their agenda, even if it wasn't around them, was reported to them and you were thoroughly punished for it.

You were popular, but didn't have much of a social life. School ended, cheerleading practice began, and after that ended, pageant practice began. Your whole life surrounded school, and fucking beauty pageants. You hated it.

You did have two best friends out of the whole cheerleading squad though, Chrissy Cunningham and Leah Smith. They were also two very popular girls, one with a genuine heart and one faker than the plastic on the ground. You did genuinely love Chrissy, but with Chrissy came Leah. They were an unfortunate package deal you simply could not separate. All girls in high school flocked like this, too, like a swarm of fruit flies that would not separate for a second. You were apart of the swarm, as much as you wouldn't admit that to yourself.

This day was no different. Chrissy was in the bathroom checking her makeup and talking about Jason in circles, Leah would pretend to listen while you actually did listen, and you would be stuck like this.

"Jason got me flowers the other day," Chrissy smiles, looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror, "it's just crazy to me that I was lucky enough to meet him." She continues to put on this gloss for her lips, smiling at herself with little glimpses.

"Chrissy, you've talked about it like seven hundred times," Leah starts. You weren't going to allow her to ruin how happy Chrissy was though. You were the balance between the two of them, the serenity that kept them from ripping each others' head off.

"Which is okay. I love hearing about how happy he makes you," You say. smiling at her as you fix your makeup as well. Leah sighs, and rolls her eyes.

"Why don't you get a boyfriend, Y/N?" Leah asks. This was an everyday conversation you couldn't escape. They were always curious about your nonexistent dating life and everything surrounding it, it was like the girls at this school were only destined to be girlfriends.

"Don't have the time, Leah," you bite back, putting emphasis on her name the same sarcastic ass way she did with yours. You secretly hated her. But again, Chrissy and Leah were a package deal and you can't separate a package deal still expecting the deal. And you really did keep the two of them level. The way you seen it, maybe you weren't too much better than Leah.

"Oh, don't even get me started!" Chrissy jokes.

"The pageants, the cheerleading, the parents," Leah sums up.

"Yeah, just about," you chuckle. Oh, the life.

"We need to find you some dick," Leah laughs, completely ignoring your comment. She irked the deepest parts of your soul so unintentionally it should be criminal.

"Honestly, I'm good."

"Are you?" Chrissy laughs. She knew how much of a hopeless romantic you were. In reality, you'd love a companion, but you were right about time management and also, your parents would never allow it. It just wasn't expected, and for sure wasn't allowed. But nobody listened to that. Your parents had witnesses everywhere.

"No, but you know how it is."

"Your parents are weird." Leah says, as if you didn't already know that.

"Yeah. Very." Chrissy agrees. You just nod. You often wondered how they lived so perfectly, how you wished you could be them even for just a day.

While you were lost in thought, the bell rings, indicating the start of another class period.

"Shit, I can't be late again. Johnson will have my head," Chrissy speaks, rushing to grab her bag and put her gloss inside of it. Leah agrees.

"Me too, last time he told me if I was late again he'd give me a detention. Do you know how bad my parents would absolutely slaughter me?"

"Probably not worse than Y/N's." Chrissy laughs, sparking a laugh out of you as well.

"Love you girl," Chrissy says.

"You too." You smile. And with that, the two girls were exiting the bathroom, leaving you alone in there. You stared at yourself for a brief second longer, wondering how much longer you'd have to deal with this. You hated this life, the way that you were living your parent's dreams instead of your own, being forced to deal with the darkness high school had to offer. You hardly had time to think before the second bell rang, making everybody who wasn't in their classes late.

You made your way to your third period class, despite being late, trying to push back every single thought you possibly could despite how hard it was. You were ready to break down and cry, your emotions won you over in such a negative way. But you couldn't. You couldn't allow people to see you like this, not right now at least. Maybe you'd have some big public meltdown, and people would care to take notice. But until that point, you were just another pretty face for the cameras.

You entered your class, staring at your teacher.

"Late again, Y/N? Take a seat," Mr. Tinkham says. You nod, taking a seat. "Today, I want to talk to all of you about a project," he continues. Everybody sighs, getting irritated at the idea of a project so close to the end of the school year.

"I will be pairing you up into groups of two, and you will be doing a assessment on the other person. Expect to be paired with the least expected people, as this is the perfect project for that. No whining, either, everybody here is a person and should be treated as such." He paces in the classroom, talking as he does so. He ignores the sighs around him, continuing to pace as he speaks. He frequently did this, pacing was a way for him to speak without messing up his words. He told everybody that at the beginning of the school year.

He begins listing out names, starting with a few different students before leading to you. You and Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson was a freak in the high school, and you didn't need to interview him or whatever to know so. Everybody already did. He had a whole outburst closer to the beginning of the year where he stood on a table and freaked out at everybody, every group of people, including yourself. He was weird, satanic, and all sorts of freaky. This couldn't have been a worse pick on behalf of Mr. Tinkham. Also, your parents would rather be caught dead before seeing you with anybody even slightly resembling Eddie Munson.

You waited for class to finish before you approached Mr. Tinkham.

"Listen, I can't work with Eddie, my parents-"

"I said no whining, Miss Y/L/N and I meant it. The decision, and partner selection, is final."

"You don't get it, my parents-"

"Done, Miss Y/L/N. You're excused."

You tried to reason with him some more, but it was endless. You could go on for hours and hours, and his decision wouldn't change. That was the thing about that specific teacher, he had that way to him. Nothing you could do would steer his intentions, which was brutal for you. He explained that it was worth a final grade, and that if he thought you did good enough, you wouldn't have to take the final. This was good because it would be one less final to worry about, and the mention of the project excited you, but it was an awful partner selection and you simply couldn't ignore that. Your parents for sure would not ignore that.

You leave his classroom, despite the outcome, and Eddie is waiting for you outside of your classroom.

"So what'd he say?" He asks, teasing you lightly as he does.

"Leave me alone Eddie," you said. You ignore him, trying to shove past him.

"Wow, okay, well we're project partners ya know" he states the obvious. You try to ignore him again, but to no avail, as he continues pushing your buttons.

"Look, I'll give you a piece of paper, just write some shit about yourself and give it back to me. I promise I'll make you sound so cool, just leave me alone." You didn't want to be so rude. But if your parents somehow got wind of this, they'd literally kill you. It wasn't worth all the fuss that would happen, had they found out. You rip a piece of paper out of your notebook and hand it to the taller man, who literally takes it and rips it up.

"Sorry doll, but that's not an honest grade! Looks like you're stuck with me."

"Since when do you care about an honest grade? Middle school?"

"I actually want to graduate this year."

"Yeah, bullshit Munson. Is this just some attempt to get in my pants? Because it isn't going to work, you know how strict my parents are." You open your locker, and the door blocks him. He steps around it to resume eye contact.

"I'm serious. '86 is my year, baby!" He smiles, raising his hands in the air and looking upward to seem more optimistic about his significantly low chances of graduating. This was probably an easy grade for him. You simply hated being around him, though, he was weird and super upfront, and often times abrasive. Truth be told, he couldn't care for you either. You were the center of everything he hated: popularity, parties, and cheerleading.

"I'll do the project for you," you agree against your will, "but it has to be here. You can't show up at my house like you did when I was a kid. This time, my dad will actually kill you." When you were kids, Eddie showed up at your house with a handful of handpicked flowers from his backyard. You thought it was cute, but your dad basically had a conniption so gruesome you could see a few veins pop out on his shiny bald head. Your mom cried for hours. Truth be told, you agreed only because you did want to see Eddie graduate. You wanted to see him overcome this school, and overcome the hate, despite how much you hated him.

He jumped around all giddily, practically thanking you on his hands and knees as he did so. He even bowed to you, the same way you'd imagine he'd done for his stupid game. You just lightly nodded back, and sent him on his way.

Not long after, Leah and Chrissy approach you with ill intent. They seen you talking it over with Eddie Munson, and instantly felt obligated to warn you, or try to stop you, as if it was anything other than some dumb high school project. You hated when they would feel so inclined to go in your business like that, it felt like you were talking to your parents all over again.

"When we said you needed a dick, we didn't mean that one." Leah says, appearing shocked, "like really girl? Eddie Munson?"

"Leah, its for a school project."

"Y/N, we're just trying to warn you. You might think it's a project, but he probably thinks its some sort of satanic sacrifice. Watch out girl, seriously!" Chrissy joins in. You could tell she only had the purest heart when it came to warning you about him, that's just the way she was. She was so pure, and so kind, she only worried about you. You just nod in response, indicating for them to leave you alone about the subject, but they continue.

"Y/N and Munson, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Leah laughs. You roll your eyes out of genuine annoyance and cringe, because she just had that affect on you. In the meantime, Jason Carver comes over and swoops Chrissy off the ground into a tight embrace.

"Hey girls," Jason says.

"Hey, Jay!" Leah smiles, fluttering her eyes as she did so. She always did this around Jason, and you thought it was super weird but Chrissy didn't seem to be too bothered by it. She has security, and knew that Jason only wanted her, which must've been such a good feeling to have considering it was all false. Jason had been cheating on Chrissy since middle school, and she just seemed completely oblivious to it. That, or perhaps she just couldn't be bothered to care.

"Hey Leah," he smiles back at her, sweeping her under his embrace too. He never bothered to acknowledge you anymore, and that was a mutual thing, and to be expected, ever since you found Leah and Jason screwing in the bathroom like rabbits. You promised Leah you'd never tell, which bothered you because you didn't care for Leah anywhere near as much as you did Chrissy, but it was a matter of keeping the peace. You loved Chrissy, but waited for the right time.

"Okay, I'm gonna go to my next class if this little love-making session is over." You say, closing your locker and walking off.

* ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ *

The project required a list of things. You had to basically interview the other person involved, while also making an assessment out of it. You were to analyze their qualities, their life, their decisions, their personality, everything. It was supposed to be a visual aid just as much as a written assessment, whatever that meant.

You met Eddie near the woods of the school, shortly behind the building. In it was a picnic table, and a bunch of trees. This was perfect for Eddie Munson, and the vibe he carried on his back. You waited for a few moments, telling your parents the truth about the project. They surprisingly understood, probably because you didn't mention it was with Eddie, but instead with Chrissy.

"Hey doll," you hear from behind you. It was finally Eddie Munson, showing up fashionably late per usual.

"Hey! And don't call me that." You respond.

"I'll try to remember that, given I'm just such a flirt and all. Its my charisma."

"Uh huh," he was kind of correct about being charismatic. He had a way to him, and always had. It was kind of weird to you, that somebody that weird could also be that charming the more you spoke to him. You assumed it was some satanic magic or something.

"So we get to assess each other, huh?" Eddie asks.

"Don't make it weird. I'm just gonna ask you questions and bring something that reminds me of you. Something easy, something we don't have to communicate over, and most importantly, something quick. Right?"

"Well, no. I'm not letting you go that easy. Honest grade, right?"

"Fine," you say. He was still standing up and slowly pacing at this point. He smiles and nods, placing his hand over his chin for a brief moment. You could tell he was thinking of something creative, given his stance.

"Come over," he says.

"Does that normally work?"

"Oh, all the time," he laughs, "but seriously. All business, no pleasure. How's it sound? Just you, the cheerleader Y/N Y/L/N, and the freak Eddie Munson? Nothing better than it." He places his hand out for you to grab, standing in front of you as he does so.

"Sure, but only for the project." You take his hand, and stand up with him. He smiles at you, lifting you up as he holds your hand in his.

"To the van!" He states, letting go of your hand to lightly flail his arms in a slow upward motion to indicate his van was anything better than rusted scrap metal on some wheels. He walks ahead of you, leading the way to his van through the wooded area.

You finally get to his van, and without exchanging another word, take the back. You couldn't risk having your parents see you, or any of those spies they have that could see you. Eddie gives you a weird look, sort of questioning why you weren't taking the passenger side.

"Can't risk having my parents see me," you say, "you know, with the freak and all."

"Fine, deal." He smiles back at you, opening the back van door for you before you step in.

You get in the van and wait for him to start the van. He finally does, allowing it to turn over before starting. You arrive to his trailer shortly after, entering the living room as he locks the door.

"Can I ask you something? You know, for the project of course." You ask.

"Yes,"

"Are you actually a satan worshipper?"

"If you have to ask the question, my response won't matter. Seriously, I don't even know how that rumor started." He states, stepping away from the now locked door. He approaches you on the couch you took a seat on, taking a seat next to you. He stares into your eyes, and you couldn't deny just how handsome he actually was anymore.

"Right, I'm sorry," You say, still staring into his eyes. You look away for a brief moment to break eye contact with him, flustered as you do so.

"Don't be," he looks away for a brief moment, too, before laughing quietly to himself. "No, it isn't true."

"I never thought it was you know,"

"You still had to ask though,"

"Because I was worried this was gonna be some virgin sacrifice. Maybe the girls got in my head or something."

"Woah, virgin sacrifice huh?" He laughs even harder now, staring at you as he does so.

"Yeah, I'm a virgin, what's so funny about it?"

"It wasn't that, it's the fact that you thought I was going to kill you over it. To be fair, still haven't decided. Don't take my kindness lightly." You laugh in response to him, and he joins the laughter. His laugh was genuine, you could feel the warmth from his voice as he giggled with you.

"So, time for the assessment," you ask, trying to change the subject before it became anything too flirty. You didn't want to flirt with him, and you didn't want him in that sense anyway. Leah and Chrissy were always getting on your case for not sleeping around with men but you couldn't be bothered to care less about the subject at hand.

"Right," he responds.

"You have any likes? Or dislikes?"

"Likes; guitar, metal, rings, Dungeons and Dragons. Dislikes; parties. And well," He responds like a jackass. He didn't seem serious about the project whatsoever. It made you wonder why you were even there, to listen to Eddie Munson state the obvious like you couldn't come up with these answers sitting alone in your room.

"Cheerleaders and jocks, we get it." You respond, irritated.

"At least you know," he laughs.

"You play guitar?" You ask, taking a notebook out of your backpack and a pen to join it.

"I do,"

"Play me something." You state, looking away from your notebook to look him in his eyes.

"Woah, really?" He asks, instantly getting excited. You nod, and he stands up, rushing to his room before coming back. He steps outside of his room whilst standing in the door way, looking at you with his guitar strapped over his shoulder.

"This is my sweetheart," he smiles at the guitar, admiring its beauty. He strums a chord you've never heard, but it sends a chill down your spine nonetheless. You open the notebook, taking your pen in hand and jotting some notes.

- Calls his guitar 'sweetheart'.

"It looks beautiful," you said, admiring the guitar with him. He nods, explaining that it took him forever to save up for, and that it was his prized possession.

- Prized possession: guitar he saved up for forever

He begins strumming his guitar in front of you, playing a song you had never heard of. You wished in the moment you knew it, how you'd love to sing it with him. But he just silently strummed, producing such sweet sounds as he did so.

His ringed fingers began to dance around the chords with one hand, using his other hand to hold his guitar pick to strum alongside the other hand's movements.

He was so peaceful, staring down at his hands as he played.

You begin jotting more notes, as your pen meets the composition book paper and traces words.

- He looks ...almost captivating. He holds peaceful movements as he watches himself play.

"This is amazing, Eddie," You say, continuing to watch him as he plays his beau. After he finishes, he quickly says, "thank you" before walking towards you and handing you the guitar.

You had absolutely no idea how to play. As a matter of fact, you didn't know how to play anything with strings. You had tried once in your prime childhood, the violin, but failed. You immediately became stressed as he handed it to you, wanting to impress him the same way he did you, but not knowing how to.

"I've never played," you state.

"I was sort of hoping you'd say that. Sit in front of me." He sits on the floor, leaving room in between his legs for you. You join him, with his guitar draped over your shoulder. He places his arms around yours, intertwining your fingertips over the chords to hold you steady. He begins showing you all the important keys, holding your fingers on the neck of the guitar as he helps you strum. He was holding you so perfectly as he taught you how to play. You continue playing with him, strumming in silence with him for a brief moment before standing up and handing him his guitar back. He smiles at you, still sitting down as he makes eye contact with you. He gets up, grabs his guitar, and places it back into his room.

He enters the living room once more, and you continue taking notes.

- He taught me how to play today. I now know all of the basic chords, he's a lot sweeter than people expect him to be.

"I should get going," you say, standing up before placing your notebook back into your bag. He smiles at you once more before nodding, "okay. It was good to see you."

"Yeah, you too. Genuinely." You offer a smile back at him, walking out of his door before he could say another thing. It seemed to be a mutual decision, because the door was closed behind you just as quick as you exited. You were kind of disappointed with that, but didn't allow yourself to care that much.

You made your walk home, knowing it may take a while before you'd get home. When you finally made it home, your parents stood waiting for you, ready to talk about more pageants.

* ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ *

Hours passed through the night of you just staying awake, tossing and turning. You didn't know what else to do, you were so lost in thought. For once in your life, you thought Leah and Chrissy must be right. Something about the way he presented himself earlier really spoke to you. He was something really different. You couldn't imagine Eddie as something other than the freak persona he put on. You sat up, and rushed over to your backpack and looked at the notes you placed in your notebook. You had only four things written down, but proceeded to write a rough draft for what you did learn.

My partner assessment project is on none other than Eddie Munson himself, a completely misunderstood individual. When you hear his name, you think satanism, everything that is wrong with the town, but he is the opposite of that. Upon assessing him, I found out he likes rings, metal, and Dungeons and Dragons. His prized possession is a guitar he calls "sweetheart", and he's amazing at what he does.

No, that was stupid. You knew you needed to get to his house as soon as possible, the only question was 'how?'. You walk to your window, hopping out of the second story before entering your car and driving to Eddie Munson's trailer. You weren't able to fully process it before you were leaving your home, but you couldn't do anything else.

The drive there was absolutely silent. It must've been two or three o'clock in the morning, so there were minimal cars out if any, and you were completely alone without a single thought. You weren't able to comprehend anything around you, the only thought was Eddie Munson.

Soon enough, you found yourself at his door. You begin knocking before your brain is able to fully process it.

"And to who do I owe the pleasure?" He asks, before even seeing it was you at the door, "oh, Y/N! What's up?" Once he realizes it's you, he changes his tone and smiles at you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," you say, without a second thought, "I mean, for the project that is."

"Right, well let's continue?" He suggests, standing away from the open door as a signal to offer you inside. You nod, walking inside as he holds the door open for you. You go inside, and sit down on the couch in his living room. You pull out the notebook you brought, and stare at him as you stay seated. He proceeds to lock the door, and comes to sit down next to you.

"Tell me more about you."

"Well, I'm not a conflict person. That's why it's easier to just allow people to believe what they want about you. I usually present as something different, so people leave me alone."

"Makes sense."

"Do you ever wish you could just go, unseen?" He asks.

"Everyday of my life. I have cameras pointed in my face at all times, and I'm tired of it."

"Like this?" He asks, rushing to his room to grab his camera. You hated the idea of taking more photos, but it was the perfect idea for his project on you, so you allowed it. He steps out, taking a picture of you, before allowing the picture to produce on film. You smile at him.

"You just have to look at them differently," he says.

"How so?"

"Like there isn't people behind them. Or if there is, it's me."

"It's you? What do you mean?"

"When I take pictures, I don't do it the way they do. People like your parents, the commercial people, they're using you. It’s obvious. I take pictures to keep images of the things I admire." Your heart drops for a moment, fully processing what he just said. He walks over to you again, sitting next to you once more before pulling out his camera and flashing another picture. "Beautiful," he says once it processes.

Your pen meets paper once more, and you write:

- He takes pictures of the things he admires. He took pictures of me.

He stares into your eyes, shifting himself closer towards you as he brings himself in for a kiss. You agree silently, kissing him back as the two of you collide lips. Before you know it, you were making out, your tongues attacking each other as your lips left openings for them to do just that. He places his hand behind your head, deepening the already passionate kiss without breaking it. He continues to intertwine your tongue with his as you intertwine your fingers with his curly mane.

"Do you want to continue?" He asks.

"Please, Eddie" You say, your breath shifting as you crave him. You begin to ache for him in places you didn't think were possible.

"Just stop me if you need me to, okay?" He says genuinely. You nod frantically as he begins undoing your top and kissing down your neck. You moan for him quietly as he continues. You beg for more, and he gives you just that. He takes your bra off with one swift motion, and continues kissing, leaving hickeys in the only places the camera wouldn't catch. He places them down your chest as he goes. You moan for him, begging him for more. He stops momentarily to watch you beg for him, taking in the sight of your topless body for a brief second. He smiles for a moment, and says "hang on." He runs to his bedroom and brings out his camera.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" You laugh to him, using your wrists to cover your topless body as your hair spreads along the table you laid upon.

"I told you I liked taking pictures of things I admire, so I was wondering if maybe you'd let me take pictures?"

"Only for you?"

"Of course," he says with genuine tone, "only if you're comfortable,"

You thought for a brief second, and remembered how you wrote him in your notebook. He takes pictures of the things he admires. "He took pictures of me". Eddie was the first person you believed was genuine, everything about him was so rare to see in somebody. His humor, his sarcasm, his appearance, the way he just didn't care about what other people said. He was honest. Not to mention, he had always had that small crush on you. You nod, and smile at him.

"Do what you want to me," you say without a second thought, and pose for him. You begin taking off your pants for him, going back to holding your breasts afterwards. The camera began flashing on you, the same way it did before but this time felt different. Subconsciously, he made you feel so much better overall. He made the cameras you always felt on you feel more normal, exactly the way he suggested before. That was the whole reason you couldn't sleep that night, you just imagined him taking pictures of you. Maybe you had already thought about this.

"You're so beautiful," he praises, shuttering more photos by the second as you continued to pose for him. You had never felt more stunning in your entire life. For once, nothing else mattered. Not the pageants, not the popularity, not the phony best friends, absolutely nothing outside of you and Edward Munson, the boy you've known forever but never seen. Until now.

"Thank you," you chuckle quietly. He takes a few more pictures before setting the camera next to you and proceeding, unprocessed photos scattered everywhere. He kisses down your neck, and down your chest, before lightly caressing your breast with one had and kissing the other. He moves up, attacking your lips once more and colliding his tongue with yours between the open gaps of your mouths. He fiddles with your underwear as he continues. You reach for the camera in between pictures, and snap a couple, surprising the man you were kissing.

"Finally comfortable with cameras huh?" He jokes.

"Oh, shut up and continue!" you laugh in response, of course nodding at the same time to reassure him that he was the one making you so comfortable. He nods in unison with you, and continues taking your underwear off. He manages to flick the panties to the side with one finger, which definitely turned you on. You snapped a picture of him as he stared at you, possessively and with ownership smothering his face. You couldn't picture a hotter sight.

"You're so fucking hot Eddie," you gasp, as he begins going down on you. He proceeds to place his mouth over your center, licking your clit with a soft motion of his jaw and lips surrounding it. You begin to moan with pleasure, as loud as you possibly could without thinking a second thought.

"For us," you moan, as you grab the camera once more, and take a picture of him down on you. You place it back down, and arch your hips so he can attack your revealed center at a better angle. He continues, picking up his pace as he places small kisses and licks along your clit. You beg for him to go faster, but he refuses to listen, ultimately turning you on more.

"Don't demand, princess, that'll get you punished." He growls, going slower. You beg for him some more, pleading with him to fasten his pace, but he still disagrees. "Keep begging," he demands. You keep begging, like he demands. Begging and pleading with him, with little sweet cusses in between.

"Eddie please baby," you whined, and he listened, picking up his pace while tracing little circles over your clit. As he continues, you feel something you had never felt before. Your shoulders became tense, your core becoming increasingly hot by the second, a pit in your stomach building. The pressure around you was enough to send you spinning, your whole body became overwhelmed with an unbearable amount of pressure. You didn't know what it meant, but wanted more of it and fast. You begin crying out for him, moaning louder and louder as he continues.

The walls captivate your moans, and bounce them in between the barriers, mocking your moans in the form of an echo. You could almost guarantee neighbors heard you at that point. Before you know it, the pressure releases. The heat that built up in the pit of your stomach was drowned by a sweet numbing feeling attacking your core, and you can feel your legs shaking. Without even realizing it, you finish on him, pressing his head into your center as you do while moaning his name louder than you ever did before.

He looks up at you and smiles, "good girl". You breathlessly try to catch up with yourself, your lungs collapsing by the second as the sweat trickled down your body. You were in disbelief. He continues for a small moment, to try and help you catch up with yourself, and it works. He stands up, pulling you by your waist as a means to line himself up with your entrance. He smiles at you for one more brief moment.

"Remember, stop me if you need to, okay?" He says, momentarily breaking the possessive character he played.

"Of course," you respond.

He slowly pushes himself inside you, causing you to wince for a second. You never imagined Eddie Munson to be packing the way he was, but you weren't necessarily complaining. He continues nevertheless, going in still and slowly as he does. You moan for him, placing your hands on his chest as he continues to slowly thrust. You smile as you throw your head back for him.

"Faster," you demand. He listens, lightly picking up his pace but not enough to overwhelm you. You felt every inch of him inside you, your walls struggling to barely keep up with his length and girth.

"I could never get enough of this sight darling" Eddie moans, watching your naked body whiter and twist underneath him. He smirks over the sight of your body, kissing down your neck and leaving your body disheveled with goosebumps. You moan for him, applauding his length as you do so.

You were drenched beyond belief, and you felt the same pressure build up almost immediately.

"I'm gonna finish-" you start. You beg for him to go faster once more, and this time he does, picking up his pace as fast as his hips could thrust. You moan loudly for him, continuing to beg for him more as he goes. He thrusts faster, causing the same pressure to become stronger and bolder by the second. The same heat building from your core was back, along with the pit inside your stomach twisting inside of you. You began whining, finally making you release once more as he proceeds with his thrusts, this time with more force. Your moans were masking the skin clapping sounds the two of you produced, sweat colliding.

You thanked him as you finished beneath him, him not lasting long after. You felt him twitch and throb inside you, shooting his warm liquid as it seeps into the crevasses of your walls.

"Fuck, Y/N" he says, struggling to regain his breath as he pulls out of your core. He smiles at you as he pants, grabbing your hand and placing it over his chest to feel the beats. You laugh with him, as he flops next to you.

"That was amazing," he states.

"It absolutely was," you agree, sitting on his lap and grabbing the camera. He begins laughing again, jokingly begging you not to take pictures of him so disheveled, but you disagree. You continue taking small snaps of him, producing pictures by the second while the two of you share laughs.

Eddie stands up, rushing to his bedroom to toss you a Hellfire Club shirt and a pair of boxers. You smile at him as he holds the items in the doorway, sitting bare naked on his table. You nod, and he tosses you the clothes. You hurry to put on his outfit, admiring the way his shirt flowed just above your knees. He was just that much taller than you, which was absolutely perfect.

"Let's practice guitar again, sound good?" He smiles, rushing to his room to grab his guitar. He smiles, standing in his doorway with his beau strapped around his shoulder with praise. You enjoyed the sight of him, taking a picture of him as you did so. The photo printed, and developed right before your eyes. Christ, he was so handsome. You pulled out your notebook to write additional things;

- You can tell Eddie Munson has a huge heart. He has one of the most purest, untouched souls I've ever seen.

You slam the notebook back down, lifting your arms and extending your fingers to signify you wanted to hold it. He smiles, and nods at you. He walks over to you with his guitar, taking a seat on the floor before tapping the floor in front of him to mean he wanted you sitting in front of him.

"Deal," you say out loud. You sit in front of him, and he places the guitar over you. He hurries up, snapping a picture of the two of you behind the guitar before continuing.

* ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ *

The end of the night approached quicker than you'd hoped. He placed a few images of the two of you inside an envelope that he labeled with a heart, and placed it inside of your bag. You smile to him, kissing him before exiting.

"I'm gonna miss you," you spoke.

"Not more than I'm gonna miss you," he kissed you once more, before kissing you on the forehead. He hugs you tightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you say with heavy heart. He nods, and you exit.

The whole drive home, you thought about that project and what you were going to say. You had days to finish this project, but didn't think it would take days. You had assessed so much of him in such a small amount of time, and it lead to so much more. You felt so relieved, because everything felt so much better now that you met him. He made you feel so much better about cameras, and everything surrounding your messed up life. Whenever you were around him, your worries seemed to melt. He felt so natural, everything felt so natural. You truly felt something different for Eddie, and appreciated everything he did in such a short amount of time.

You managed to sneak back into your house successfully. Not a single thing was moved, or changed since you had left it. By now, the clock read 6:02am, meaning you needed to get ready for school and fast before your parents woke up to realize your situation. You didn't realize it, but you drove home in Eddie's Hellfire shirt and boxers, meaning your clothes were still at his house. You made a plan inside your head that consisted of hurrying up, changing, figuring out your hair, and rushing downstairs.

You managed to do so, greeting your parents in the kitchen as they made you (what they called) a well balanced breakfast. They always did that. They liked to keep count of what you ate for the sake of pageants, but you always thought it was so stupid, not to mention, absolutely infuriating. They controlled basically every aspect of your life without you even realizing it.

"Hey Y/N, didn't see you get home from that project you were doing?" Your dad questions.

"Yeah, I got home late! But you seen my car, right?"

"Of course, you must've been asleep." Your mom suggests, flipping the eggs over the stove as she does so. You felt bad for leaving them absolutely oblivious, but the less they knew the better.

"Yeah, I fell asleep kind of early." You respond, replaying the memories from a few hours previously. You smile to yourself, but shake it before your parents are able to catch it.

"So when is that project due?" Your dad asks.

"Three days from now, but I've pretty much got it all mapped out. The teacher really chose two best friends and expected me to not have it done. Easy A though, right?"

"Oh, for sure! You should still take the exam for extra credit!" Your mom happily says.

"I'll think about it,"

"No, it's your grades. You will do it." She demands, looking at you blankly as she spoke.

"Fine." You pause, grabbing your bag and exiting the house. Now was a bigger concern, you had to make it through the day without Chrissy nor Leah being suspicious. This was especially frustrating because you didn't quite know how you would fool them so easily, they would notice you were off today. It wasn't long before they began asking questions, and eventually figured out the story for themselves.

Nonetheless, you were on your way to school. The radio was off, the car was silent once more. The entire way to school you thought about this project, and thought about Eddie. The two of you had made plans before you left to meet up after school once more to finish the project, so you had that to look forward to by all means.

You finally arrive to the school and see both Chrissy and Leah waving you down, practically begging for your attention. The lack of sleep had already started to wear you down, stressing you out before you even entered the building. You park your car in the student parking, and then exit to meet the girls waiting for you.

"Hey girl, you look vibrant! Get some dick?" Leah asks jokingly. You were ready to sigh and roll your eyes before she even said anything, knowing exactly what she was going to say. But you refrained, and instead played nice to the backstabbing friend.

"No, just relieved this project is almost over. I was over at Eddie's last night and-"

"No!" Chrissy spoke, cutting you off, "you and Munson didn't..?"

"No! Absolutely not! Damn, it was just for a project." You said. You were upset that you had to lie, but nobody you knew would accept you and Eddie for what you were, so it was better to leave them questioning.

"If ya say so," Leah laughs.

"I didn't hook up with Eddie Munson!" You practically flip out at this point. The exhaustion from lack of sleep was already catching up, and it made you believe everybody around you believed something about you and Eddie. In reality, these were jokes, and nobody speculated anything, but it was impossible to convince your mind otherwise. It was like you were the only one stranded in this world, but there were ghosts around you laughing and pointing. It all felt so surreal. You knew it was just the tiredness making you paranoid, though, or at least you hoped.

"Geez, okay! I was kidding! But being defensive is only gonna convince me you are actually hooking up with Eddie Munson." Leah states. At this point, you didn't care how rude you seemed for doing so, you rolled your eyes and walked ahead of the girls for a moment, them still talking about how weird you were acting behind you. You weren't doing a good job at making them not suspicious, and you knew that. You also recognized that you proved your point, that it would only be a matter of time until they recognized something was off. It had barely been minutes and the two were already assuming things. The thought terrified you, and made you shake beyond belief.

You walk to your locker, placing some notebooks inside and taking some out before the envelope falls.

"Oh!" Leah smiles, reaching to pick it up.

"Don't! That's um, from my um, grandma!" You pause several times before continuing. You snatch it off the floor and place it directly into your bag. It was a close one for sure, but you thought for a brief moment that you had maybe passed it off.

"I wanna see what granny wrote!" Chrissy says. Suddenly, it feels like you're closed into a corner. You can't move, can't breathe, and can barely think. You needed to come up with an excuse for them not to see it, or for them not to want to.

"Oh please, this old thing?" You start, "it's nothing, really, she has dementia so she doesn't even know what she's actually writing. It's really just jibberish."

"But she knew to put hearts on it?" Leah asks, suspiciously.

"Clearly, Leah yeah!" You say sarcastically back. You were so tired of the poking and bantering, you didn't care what was to come from your attitude. Leah looked like she was ready to unleash, before Jason came over.

"Hey Jay!" Chrissy smiles, kissing his cheek before collapsing into his arms.

"Hey Jay-Jay!" Leah says more flirty. It was seriously a shock to you that Chrissy didn't know about her backstabbing best friend. But it wasn't your concern. You say your goodbyes to the girls, and then continue walking to your first period class. For once, it was best to not be late to every class. You wanted to stay on everybody's good side, especially if it meant you could stay in good graces while sneaking around with Eddie Munson.

Here is where you decided to finish your project. You didn't really have anything to do first period, given it was sort of a study hall, so this would be the absolute perfect place to do just that. You sit down at a random seat and pull out your notebook, completely ignoring the teacher as your pen meets the paper and you begin to write.

My partner assessment project is on none other than Eddie Munson himself, a completely misunderstood individual. At first, I was absolutely terrified. Everybody in this school has rumors about him, you've definitely heard them so I don't even need to mention them. He isn't what the people around this school say.

I met Eddie in middle school, and we were friends for a brief period of time. That was before I became popular, and he became a freak.

When you hear his name, you think some scary things, everything that is wrong with the town, but he is the opposite of that.

Upon assessing him, I found out he likes rings, metal, and Dungeons and Dragons. His prized possession is a guitar he calls "sweetheart", and he's amazing at what he does.

I could genuinely never imagine what this human being truly is. He is passionate, honest, kind-hearted, and gentle. He is a great person, and an even better friend. I've only spent two days with him, and that was enough to realize how true his heart actually is.

*my visual aid is a picture of Eddie's guitar, his prized possession*

It was perfect. Short, sweet and genuine just how Mr. Tinkham wanted. You knew you had to take the final anyway, so this was fool proof. You just wanted to impress Eddie, and show him how much he helped you. You really appreciated him, and appreciated the growth he helped you undergo in such a short amount of time. He said to change how you felt about cameras, and then changed it for you himself.

Now that the project was written and spoken for, you decided to take a nap in study hall. You were overwhelmed by lack of sleep, and decided to take advantage of the quiet in the room. You place your forehead on the desk, and pass out.

Not too long after, the bell rings, indicating the class ending. You immediately woke up, and exited, grabbing your bag and personal belongings before exiting the door. The girls were already by your classroom, with concerned faces. They automatically seemed worried, which frustrated you.

"Looks like somebody took a nap," Leah says. You must've had a mark on your forehead or something from when you laid down, but you couldn't care less.

"Yeah, didn't get a lot of sleep, I've been working on my project."

"The one with Eddie Munson?" Chrissy condescendingly asks. You were already irritated from lack of sleep, so Chrissy's nor Leah's dumbass comments were going to help with that already worsening mental state.

"Yes Chrissy, the one that my teacher assigned for me and Eddie to do together, the one I literally would not be doing if it wasn't worth a final grade. Now why does it fucking matter so much to you?" You walk off to your locker with a huff and a puff, lightly pushing the girls to the side to get your point across. You finally are at your locker, grabbing items for your next class and putting some away.

"Sheesh, what climbed up your ass and died?" Leah asks.

"I'm just tired," you sigh, face palming at her question. You walk away from them again to your next class, hearing them discuss how weird you were acting behind you. You couldn't care less about what they had to say. Your next class was the one with Eddie, and you were excited about seeing him. You enjoyed every second you could spend with him. You had to kind of keep it on the down low, especially if your parents had any suspicion about what you were actually doing.

You made your way to the next class, Mr. Tinkham's. He had assigned to work with your partners, but Eddie was late as usual. When he finally came in, he smiled at you. It made your heart melt, and a feeling of butterflies attacking your stomach. You were starting to feel so in love with him, and couldn't even begin to think about anything else. You hated it, because of how quick and easy you fell for him, but couldn't complain as the damage was already done.

"Hey, beautiful!" He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you.

"Hey handsome, how are you?" You ask, scooting your chairs and therefore your desks closer to each other. He begins to discuss how great he is, and how happy he's been since you came over the night previous, and it brings back the same feeling of butterflies and nausea from them. You were completely obsessed with any thought he had, listening intently about what he has to say.

"Look! I finished my project," you said.

"Let's see how you analyzed me," he states, putting his chin in his palms with his hands raised to act the same amount of intrigued as he actually was. You took your notebook out and showed him it, he begins smiling as he reads over it. This was perfect.

"I absolutely love it," he smiles. He did genuinely seem taken back in awe, his eyes fluttered with infatuation. Maybe he just had a hard time vocalizing it, but you could read it for sure. "Conveniently, I finished mine too!" He states, pulling his notebook out as well. His notebook was decorated in different skulls and crossbones drawings, sketches of guitars and lightning bolts. You adored that about him, he was very much the same as what he showed people, at least on the outside. The inside was a completely different story. You begin to read what he wrote, after complimenting the notebook.

My partner assessment project is on Y/N Y/L/N. She is a girl who shows her fears, but to the right person. On the outside, she's a girl who does a ton of beauty pageants, commercials for Hawkins, and a few other things. But in reality, she hates the cameras. Before this project, she didn't separate the cameras from the people and instead looked at the cameras like a horror movie. I've showed her otherwise, hence why my visual aid is these pictures.

She is a strong, down to earth individual who doesn't let anybody see that side of her. You're lucky if you get to see that side of her. She hides behind the popularity, because it's easier. But she doesn't show her worries, her concerns, anything.

She is a beautiful, incredibly talented individual and I personally feel like the world takes advantage of that.

Upon writing this assessment, I found that she likes me, playing guitar, (hopefully soon) Dungeons and Dragons, watching movies and writing. She loves writing more than anything. I've once read a novel she wrote in a notebook lying around (of course she didn't know she left it out) and it was incredible. She brings pictures to words, and plays a movie while you read. She is so talented. I hope she teaches me someday.

He then showed you the pictures he was gonna show. There were three: one with you and him playing guitar, one with you smiling when you first hung out with him, and another he took while you were writing. He really seemed to capture you in your best moments, and it made you so incredibly happy. You felt yourself blushing, and wanting him.

"This is beautiful," you state, "I love this."

"Thank you! I wrote it from the heart," he says.

"I can tell, I love it. I love you." You state before you can even process it. You couldn't think about anything else besides how much you cared for him, and how beautifully he wrote you.

"I love you," he says. That's when it hit. When you finally realized you said that to him. It still didn't matter to you, because you knew you meant it, but it was astonishing to hear him agree with you in that light. You kissed him, before you could even think about it, in front of everybody. There were gasps, there were loud sighs, everything.

Nothing felt more right in that moment. Not Chrissy, not Leah, not anybody. The bell rang shortly after, and the two of you decided to not go to the next class, but instead confirm what the two of you had.

You walk to a bathroom, one you could lock from the inside. The two of you knew exactly what was going to go down.

You both were barely able to lock the door, before he begins undoing your top and kissing down your neck. He trails hickeys down your neck and right to the top of the bra masking your breasts. You moan for him quietly as he continues. He takes your bra off with one swift motion, and continues kissing, leaving hickeys again on your breasts and neck the same way he had done before. You moan for him, begging him for more. He stops momentarily to watch you beg for him, taking in the sight of your topless body for a brief second. He smiles for a brief moment, and brings out his camera again. You laugh for him, posing once more.

"Do what you want to me," you smile again. You loved telling him this, because he always had the same reaction. His face lit up with lust while you sat on the bathroom sink for him, waiting for his next move.

"You're so beautiful," he praises, shuttering more photos by the second as you continued to pose for him. You strike the most seductive poses that come to mind, leaning your arms behind the sink with your bare chest exposed and even playing with your hair for the camera.

He kisses down your neck, and down your chest, before lightly caressing your breast with one had and kissing the other. He moves up, attacking your lips once more and clashing his tongue with yours between the open gaps of your mouths. He fiddles with your underwear as he continues. You reach for the camera in between pictures, and snap a couple. He finally takes your underwear off, and pulls you forward on the sink. He pulls his pants to his knees, and he lines himself up with your entrance, slowly going in at first before gradually picking up his speed. You moan for him, not too loud because the two of you were still closed in school walls, but loud enough to let him know you were all his.

"I'm all your's baby," you moan for him, as he pushes himself inside you faster. The sound of skin smacking radiated against the walls as the two of you continued, sweat trickling down your face and body as he continues. You had never felt so in love.

"Oh, I know princess," he spoke. He picked up his pace and you could feel that familiar feeling building up in the pit of your stomach. He had a way of making you build up quick with his thrusts. You beg for him to continue faster. He listens, picking up his pace. You moan loudly for him, this time completely disregarding the fact that you were in school.

“Eddie, I’m gonna finish-“ you whine, before doing exactly that. The pressure was relieved, the pit inside your stomach releasing, your legs twitching on the bathroom sink as you finish for him. You moan his name, gripping his hair as you do so.

He finishes shortly after you, ejaculating inside of you as he does so, moaning and grilling on the bathroom sink below you. You moan as he does so, and so does he. You smile at him as he tries to catch up his breath.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season four #eddie munson smut #smut #stranger things

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sereneabyyss · 1 month

Text

Cats Beat Zombies Any Day! Pt. 1

What is this? Me writing something original and not fan fiction? Crazy. Anyway here's this little drabble from a dream I had last night. It's separated into parts mainly because I cannot be bothered to write more words today. Anyway-

There were frogs in her bathtub. Frogs. Crawling all over her bathtub. Why frogs? She couldn’t help but wonder to herself as she continued to simply stare, transfixed as she took in the sight of a bright, lime green tree frog merrily making its way across the porcelain tub, tongue whipping out to catch the pesky fruit flies that had started making their homes inside with the start of the seasons changing. “Well, at least you're useful.” Were tree frogs even native to here?

Her eyes glanced over to the toad looking frog, all brown with green flecks, and noticeably larger than the tree frog. Maybe it was a toad. Was she assuming the species of this amphibian? Did that even matter? Why were there frogs in her bathtub for goodness sake?!

Like any reasonable person, she snapped a picture and sent it to her friends, wondering if anyone could explain to her the strange phenomenon occurring in her bathroom. All she had wanted was to take a relaxing bath! But there were frogs!

Ash (not) Ketchum: image attached

Ash (not) Ketchum: hey gang, is having your bathtub absolutely ransacked by frogs a normal experience? Pls answer quickly, otherwise i fear ill go into cardiac arrest. Thx.

Placing her phone on the sink, she continued to simply stare at the frogs. It wasn't like they were actively stopping her from getting her bath, right? She could totally coexist with the frogs. They were eating the fruit flies! Maybe this was her first gift from the heavens! Free frogs to deal with the absolutely terrifying fruit flies.

Nodding to herself, she shed her jacket, moving to do the same with her top before a loud crash followed by a startled yowl of a cat sounded behind her. Slowly turning, hands paused at the base of her shirt, she stared at the most adorable sight she had ever seen on the planet.

There were kittens! In her bathroom! And they were all dressed in adorable little outfits! Scrambling around on the tiled floor, trying to get their bearings! The poor things had probably fallen from the closet shelves, and now they were trying so desperately to reorient themselves. And it was super adorable and she knew instantly she would simultaneously die and commit the most atrocious of war crimes for these kittens.

Bathtub frogs completely forgotten, she crouched down on the floor, attempting to get a better look at the new show of pure adorableness. Having never been allowed to own a cat before, she wasn’t quite sure what kind each was. She was pretty sure the one with orange and black spots on white fur was a calico? That one wore a bright yellow rain jacket with little yellow paw boots and a yellow hat strapped to its chin. Batting at the maybe calico’s face was a black cat, wearing a white silky jacket with angel wings poking up from it, clearly meant to be an ironic jab at the stereotype black cats had. Or maybe not, considering the other black cat was wearing a matching outfit, except its theme seemed to be the devil with its bright red fabric and horns poking up from its tiny head band.

“Hey now, stop fighting.” She didn’t want to push the angel cat away from the rain jacket one, unsure if any of the kittens had any diseases that could be transferred if one of them decided they did not like her and decided to start batting their claws at her face. Still, it seemed now that they had reoriented themselves, the angel was choosing violence. Which, again, clearly whoever had dressed them up for super early halloween was laughing chaotically.

Before anything could escalate, another meow sounded, and three more cats appeared, another two kittens and a full grown adult cat. The two kittens were maybe tabbies? She was pretty sure the little mark on their forehead meant they were tabbies. One was a bright orange while the other was almost gray with little black stripes. The orange tabby had a black and white striped sweater with a red beret tied loosely to its neck. The white and gray kitten was dressed in a frilly pink tu-tu, a rendition of pink ballet slippers tied neatly up the length of its stubby legs. The adult cat was… well she was completely unsure what the adult was, but it was big and fluffy and oh my god it had a little monocle. A red neck tie was neatly collared around its neck and she was sure the only reason it wasn't wearing a cat’s version of a three piece suit was because nothing was big enough to contain the sheer fluff that was its fur.

The adult cat batted at the angel cat, stopping it from continuing to bully its… sibling? Were these cats related? Was it even possible for these cats to be related? Surely not. But what did she know about cat genetics?

Wait! Focus Ash! The cats were adorable, yes, but they couldn't just stay. Everyone in her household was allergic to cats. Well everyone except her. But, that didn’t matter. Hives would be breaking out and sneezes would take over the peaceful tranquility that never existed in their house in the first place.

“How did you guys even get in here? The frogs I was willing to let slide, but you guys? You’re too young to be from the neighbors cats, they were neutered years ago. Do you have an owner looking for you? Because I seriously don’t want to be accused of catnapping. And clearly someone cares for you, enough to buy you all matching outfits…” she muttered quietly to herself, perplexed as she observed each of the cats from a distance, still wary of potential scratches, or even biting. But, even still, she couldn't find evidence of any collar on any of them. Let alone any tags added to their outfits so their owners could be identified if they happened to wander off a bit too far. Maybe they had some fancy tracker? Something injected in them that connected to some app on their owner’s phone so that it couldn't be removed if a catnapper decided to pretend they weren’t the culprit? That would make sense, but not bothering to put tags on so some good samaritan could return the cats freely and being stuck looking like a catnapper was not cool. She would be having words with whoever this irresponsible person was.

“Well, no relaxing bath for me I suppose. Are you guys hungry?” Ears perking up, each of them turned with the biggest, most pathetic, kitten eyes she had ever seen. “Glad to know that’s at least universal,” she muttered, knees cracking as she stood from her crouched position. “Ok, you mongrels of utter cuteness, I shall attempt, as your most dutiful servant, to find something suitable for your palate. Excuse this lowly one as I have never had to feed someone of your caliber before.” She was tempted to bow, but honestly that seemed ridiculous, even if she had heard cats tended to treat themselves as if they were royalty. These weren’t her cats, so she could leave that sort of pleasantry to the owner, whenever they bothered to show up.

Exiting the bathroom, five kittens and one cat all trotted along behind her, meowing expectantly as she made her way to the kitchen. Maybe she could convince the owner to allow her to at least visit? They were seriously adorable, and hey! Maybe these cats wouldn’t spend half an hour straight trying to eat her shirt like the neighbor’s cat had!

#cats beat zombies #writing #original writing #i woke up from this dream and went “this is a great story idea”#now here we are #throwing a random OC into this story and calling it a day #poor Ash #could have been everett though #but I'd never do that to him #he's allergic to cats #also yes this is a zombie apocalypse #but with a twist~

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 3 years

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do you think the jedi prohibit 'frivolous uses of the force'?? because i see it a lot in fic but i swear i distinctly remember obi-wan using the force to pull a literal chair over lmfao

Yoooo, I've been wanting to write a post about that for like a week xD Okay, so here's the thing: I started answering this one, confident that I knew where the use of the word 'frivolous' came from - but it turned out that I was wrong, so I'm actually a bit baffled about its origin. But here goes:

(@cacodaemonia I know you were interested in this topic?)

No, I don't think the Jedi prohibit that. I don't think the Jedi even have 'frivolous' use of the Force as a concept. The idea that they prohibit it, or at least frown upon it, is very likely rooted in the AotC scene of Anakin levitating a piece of fruit.

Wookieepedia cites that scene and that scene only on the topic of frivolousness in the page on Telekinesis.

But the word frivolous isn't used in that scene! Who came up with it? Obi-Wan being grumpy about Anakin levitating the fruit could mean just about anything. Maybe Jedi frown upon showing off in front of a diplomat you're meant to be protecting in a professional way. Maybe Obi-Wan and only Obi-Wan disapproves of Anakin levitating stuff because he kept doing it around the apartment as a kid, just to be a little shit. Maybe Jedi frown upon playing with your food with the Force, which wouldn't necessarily be linked with it being 'frivolous' but just with 'don't be gross.'

Now I thought it came from the novelization using that specific word, but it doesn't! The novelization is based on the original script as opposed to the dialogue in the movie (it actually came out before the movie, so that's why) and the scene is longer in them both and seems to confirm what I said about how it could mean a lot of other things (because he isn't just levitating it originally, he's playing with it):

(novelization)

PADME: You did that? [ANAKIN looks up - wide-eyed innocence.] ANAKIN: What? [PADME scowls at him. PADME jabs at the fruit - ANAKIN subtly moves his hand and it lifts up from the plate and hovers in front of her.] PADME: That! Now stop it! [PADME laughs. ANAKIN laughs. She reaches out for the fruit - it loops.] PADME (continuing): Anakin!! [ANAKIN moves his fingers. The fruit flies into his hand.] ANAKIN: I'm not really supposed to do that... for fun, I mean. If Master Obi-Wan were here, he'd be very grumpy. [ANAKIN is pleased. He cuts the fruint (sic) into several pieces and sends one back to PADME. She bites it out of the air and laughs.]

(script)

Even taking Anakin at face value, this does not say there is an Order-wide ban on 'frivolous' uses of the Force. Again, maybe Force-assisted food shenanigans are frowned upon. Maybe Anakin isn't supposed to mess with people with the Force for fun. Maybe it's just Anakin assuming, as he sometimes does.

I think 'frivolous' might come from one of the EU books - it's not from No Prisoners (the Karen Travis TCW book) though, so I have no idea who might have used it in that context first??

Anyway, the issue in fic is that 'frivolous' is often confused with 'casual.' Hence the Obi-Wan thing imo.

One, 'frivolous' is judgy - it gives it a sense of sin, something that the Jedi... don't seem to have that much of a concept of? Dressing 'immodestly' isn't condemned, for example. I don't see the Order as a whole (there are sticks in the mud everywhere) having a thing against a concept as vague as 'frivolousness.' I mean... Yoda? His whole idea of fun is to mess with people and cackle, and his teaching methods include massive trolling, teasing the grown-up Masters with his gaggle of kiddos and whatnot. You cannot tell me Yoda never tugged on somebody's cloak to make them trip.

Two, frivolous and casual aren't the same thing. Obi-Wan pulling the chair falls into the casual use category imo - and yes, we do see him and others do this kind of casual stuff many times! (Off the top of my head: Obi-Wan grabs the map-ball thingy from the map-reader in AotC - in front of younglings, so there's no fear of a bad example being set - Yoda calls his stick to his hand in AotC, Obi-Wan pulls a chair in TCW s2, Jedi call their lightsabers to them all the time - though it's usually in combat settings, so it doesn't necessarily count, Obi-Wan closes a door in AotC - I think Ewan was the one who thought it'd be neat to do it? Idk...)

And I don't agree that "it goes to show their hypocrisy" or whatever. What, because we assume that's what Anakin meant in the AotC scene and because we assume it's 100% an Order-wide thing, and we assume that the Jedi would view using the Force for daily tasks as frivolous, then every single instance of Jedi using the Force for simple every day stuff is hypocritical?! Even though floating freaking fruit around somebody's head and pulling up a chair are absolutely not the same thing? The latter is something you would do no matter whether you use the Force or not - pulling a chair is a normal thing to do. Playing with fruit around someone is a rude thing to do. There's a difference whether or not 'frivolous' stuff is frowned upon.

And also, using the Force is a natural thing. The Jedi do it like they breathe - it's all around them and they're aware of it constantly, and it's not always something they can turn on or off. It's natural that they would use it for daily stuff, and the level of respect that comes attached with using it would necessarily vary from one Jedi to the other. Just look at Quinlan. What, jumping out of a gunship to make an entrance isn't frivolous? Well, Quinlan is a Master, so his views on it are just as valid - just as Jedi - as anybody else's. (Plus Obi-Wan - the Council Member - gives him grief for being late, not for just for being ridiculous, so again - rudeness.)

I can see some Masters being against using the Force with carelessness - and yeah, I can also see some Masters being against using it in a 'fun' way - because you have to be careful with that stuff, but it probably would generate debate. There wouldn't be a definite consensus on what is too much and what isn't.

If "the Jedi all frown upon casually using the Force" is something that Lucas intended to convey in the movie, please correct me and give me a source.

Though it is also entirely possible that Obi-Wan was meant to be a bit hypocritical about it - because he and Anakin have their tensions, and as somewhat of a parental figure it's only natural that he would scold Anakin for stuff that isn't that big of deal, or that he himself has done, because that's what every person who's ever been in charge of a younger person has done at some point. So sure, maybe Obi-Wan scolded Anakin for being too casual with the Force? But I still don't see it as a Big Rule that is in the Jedi Code That Must Not Be Violated and that get you Shamed and Shunned if you dare to have fun with the Force.

(Honestly, it reminds me of 'your Lightsaber is your Life' thing, and Ahsoka and Anakin both separately whining that their Master was going to kill them for losing/breaking theirs. There's a certain level or respect and care expected, the Masters (or... only Obi-Wan and Anakin, lol) nag a bit, aren't always careful enough themselves, the kids make a big deal out of it in front of other people, but ultimately there are zero repercussion whatsoever for actually failing to follow the Master's nagging. Like, Jocasta tells Ahsoka Anakin would totally understand, and it's Ahsoka who insists he wouldn't and makes it into a big thing.)

Again, having Masters tell their students to be respectful of the Force and not to treat it like a joke? Sure. Showing off with the Force in a rude manner being called 'frivolous,' and it being a bad thing? I could see it. Having Masters get pissy about pulling chairs, closing doors or whatever - about doing things you can do with your hands with the Force instead? Maybe, but it wouldn't be an Order-wide thing.

One thing's for certain, we never see a Master directly scolding a student for using the Force casually in the Prequels, the OT or TCW, much less calling it 'frivolous.'

So yeah, gimme Jedi levitating stuff to clean up under the furniture xD

#anonymous #ask #fanon vs canon #on frivolous uses of the Force #long post #meta #my meta #sw talk #intergalactic therapists #jedi order #jedi culture #anakin skywalker #attack of the clones

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

sunflowers. | harry styles.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader (dad!harry, husband!harry)

summary: harry is very much in love with his little family.

word count: 2724 words

warning(s): a sprinkle of sexual mentions and a whole lot of fluff

disclaimer: gif is not mine.

author’s note: hey there. been a while. i missed writing here and the reason i haven’t been doing that is because i was focused on finishing school. of course now, i still am busy with school, having to start my degree. but i miss writing so i thought i’d make this little piece here. it’s my first harry styles fic! quite exciting and nerve-wrecking for me. but as always, leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed this, also constructive comments do help me to improve my writing and i do want to be better at it. and reblog (!) it really helps writers out in creating content for you so pls do so if you like it. all the love x

She pushes her cart down the aisle as she browses through the shelves of delicious snacks. She already has picked out a bunch of biscuits and juice boxes when her phone rings, making her jump a bit. She takes out her phone and smiles as the screen showcases the contact name ‘lovie’ with a picture of her husband. She accepts the call as she continues to stroll down the aisle.

“Hi, lovie!” she answers happily. “Hello, darling. Hope everything’s alright there,” Harry answers back. She giggles as she stops by the fruits and vegetables section. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that since you’re the one that’s looking after the house?” She questions about Harry’s intention of calling her. He chuckles through the phone. “Pfft, don’t be silly, love. I got everything under control here,” He says. She imagines how he is probably pouting a bit on the other side of the phone as she playfully rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, hun. Now, what do you need?” She asks, figuring that Harry has some last minute additions to the grocery. Harry hums and thinks as Y/N picks out some fresh salads. “Could maybe buy more bread for us?” He asks, which confuses Y/N as she thought she has already bought bread for them.

“Harry, didn’t I already buy those, like, two those days ago?” She questions as she starts picking out some fruits. She picks out two packets of strawberries and grapes each and one honeydew melon. She feels as though Harry is hesitating to answer back through the phone. “Yeah, but.. I got hungry so I finished most of them,” He says as though he is embarrassed by admitting this to his wife. Y/N only giggles at this information.

“You and your bread. Any kind that you fancy this time?” She asks as she makes her way to the wet area of the supermarket. “Just the usual ones. Oh, and the whole wheat bread if there’s any,” He requests. Y/N hears the sound of cutleries clanking in the background, though she brushes it off, thinking it is just Harry cleaning the kitchen. “Alright. I’ll see you guys at home, yeah? I’m nearly done here,”

“Of course, darling. Bubs and I will be waiting,” he says, and Y/N smiles at the thought of her little family at home. The couple say their goodbyes and hang up. Y/N makes a note to herself to get some bread after picking out some salmon before checking herself out of the supermarket.

After over a year of marriage, the both of them decided to start a family of their own. It excited her to think about Harry with their own child, knowing very well how good he is with children in general. They were both overjoyed by the news that they will be expecting a baby girl, more so of Harry than herself. He was ecstatic to be a father throughout the pregnancy journey. Even on the occasional dates they would go on, he would always make sure they picked some of the most private areas, paparazzi and fans-free. It was an important time for them and they wanted to keep things on the low most times.

Now, their baby girl Rosie is six months old and is just the purest ball of sunshine and happiness. Harry and Y/N swore that their hearts grew ten times bigger upon first laying their eyes on her baby. Of course after she was born, it was tiring enough for them to handle a baby as they were new to being parents. Though, they managed to get the hang of it after some sleepless nights and cleaning up baby vomit.

All of that which leads up to this moment where Y/N is buying some groceries for the family. Harry suggested they should take little Rosie out for a picnic. Although it was rather difficult to go outside without them getting papped and stalked, they luckily had a backyard that was big enough to have their little picnic together. It was all fenced up with a couple of flowers planted. It was ideally the perfect place to relax and have some family gatherings.

Y/N quickly gets home in time for dinner, not before buying some Chinese food for her and Harry. She unlocks the door and quickly rushes by the living room and into the kitchen to put the heavy bags of groceries down. Harry, who had been folding the laundry and entertaining his daughter, notices his wife and calls out to her. “Hi, honey!” Baby Rosie, who has been laying on a plush little blanket, perks her head up and excitedly babbles after her father’s voice. “Hey, lovie! Give me a minute to put these away!” Y/N yells back at him.

Harry hums and puts away the last of the clean laundry in a basket before laying on his side next to Rosie. He lets his baby grab a hold of his large hand. He watches as Rosie puts his tiny little hand on the center of his palms, smiling widely as she looks at him and babbles about in baby language. It’s not long until Y/N comes in with a bag of Chinese food and some baby food. “C’mon, let’s eat, my loves,” She gently says as she sets the food down on the coffee table. Rosie holds out her arms to her mother; much to her delight, Y/N carries her up and sets her down on her lap.

Y/N multitasks eating her dinner and feeding Rosie throughout dinner time. The faint sounds of a Fleetwood Mac album playing on the vinyl player filling the background. “So, what’s on the menu for tomorrow’s picnic?” He says as takes a bite off his spring roll. Y/N shrugs and wipes the excess baby food off Rosie’s mouth. “Don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll make those smoked salmon sandwiches that you like.”

Harry playfully moans in delight. “You mean, those sandwiches you make are award-winning, darling,” he says, which makes Y/N giggles at her silly husband. “Well, I hope they are, Mr. Styles. Would be shameful if the salmon I bought just went to waste.” Little Rosie eventually finishes her food and decides to play around with her mother’s hair. She stares and strokes on Y/N’s hair, gently tucking it at times. The couple smiles widely at the sight of their daughter. “You doing alright, bubs?” Rosie merely stares at her parents with her big green eyes, not understanding their question. It still amazes Y/N how much of Harry’s features Rosie inherited. “Surely you weren’t a handful with your daddy this evening, were you?” Y/N playfully questions.

Harry chuckles and takes Rosie out of Y/N’s arms. “No, she wasn’t. However, she wasn’t helpful in helping daddy with the laundry, were you princess?” He says as he lifts his baby girl above both of the couple’s heads, eliciting the sweetest laugh from Rosie. He does this a few more times until he stops since he didn’t want her to get dizzy and throw up.

It was a very domestic moment for them. Just the three of them, having dinner, smiles and laughter all around. It is moments like this where Harry prefers the simplicity of life, in the comfort of his little family. “Think it’s time for someone to go to dreamland, don’t ya think?” Y/N says as she caresses Rosie’s soft cheeks with her finger, Rosie obviously showing her tiredness with her droopy eyes. Harry nods in agreement, already packing up to empty food boxes to throw away.

“You wanna go up first, love? Nurse Rosie a bit. I’ll clean this up quickly.” Y/N insists on helping out Harry after he’s taken care of the house while she went to buy groceries. Though, Harry insists back on helping to clean, saying it’s no big deal. Without much of an argument, Y/N lifts up Rosie from his arms and heads up, not before giving Harry a loving kiss of appreciation.

After nursing her, Rosie quickly falls asleep in her mother’s arms, lulling to the faint sounds of her heartbeat as she rests her little head on her chest. Harry soon joins in the room and he stops to admire the sight he has become all too familiar with. Just the sight of the woman he loves, carrying and rocking their baby daughter to sleep, a feeling of warmth and peace fills his entire heart. Sometimes, he can’t believe how lucky he was to have ended up in this position and he always thanks the universe for blessing him a family that he loves with his entire soul.

Rosie gets tucked in her cot, a soft purple blanket covering her. Harry and Y/N go back into their room soon after. Harry lays on his bed with his eyes closed, humming a random tune while Y/N picks out her nightwear, which turns out to only be one of Harry’s T-shirts and underwear. “Can you believe she’s six months old now?” Harry asks out of the blue. Y/N turns around and stands between his legs. He sits up and gently pulls Y/N in by the waist. She runs her hands through his curls, he sighs in delight of the feeling. “Time flies, huh?”

“Soon she’s gonna start walkin’, runnin’, she’ll become quite the troublemaker,” he jokes and pouts at Y/N. She chuckles at his silliness. “It’s nothing we can’t handle, right?” She smiles at him lovingly as she strokes his cheeks. Harry smiles back and puts his head on her stomach, giving it a light kiss through the dress she’s wearing.

“Thank you. I feel like I haven’t said that enough,” he mumbles against her stomach. She looks down at him with a confused expression. “You carried her for a whole nine months and went through so much to deliver her to us. So, thank you. And I love you, darling. I’m so lucky.”

Y/N feels her breath hitched at his confession and she smiles at him. She leans down and kisses him hard. Sometimes, she thinks that she is the lucky one. She managed to find someone who loves and support her unconditionally, even through the late night snacks she had while pregnant with little Rosie. Harry doesn’t hesitate to kiss back and pulls her closer to him. She feels his tongue swipe across her bottom lip, asking for entrance. And who is she to deny making out with her incredibly talented and beautiful husband as she opens her mouth, making the kiss more passionate. Harry hears a soft moan from her and swears he feels shivers running up his spine.

They break away after feeling the oxygen running out of their lungs and lay their foreheads against each other’s, breathing heavily. “I love you, too,” she breathes out. They both smile widely at each other, feeling like teenagers in love. She pecks his lips one last time before pulling away from him. She starts undressing as she makes her way to the ensuite bathroom, Harry watching her every move as his mouth gapes open slightly.

God, my wife is so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He continues to admire Y/N as she undresses until she’s fully nude. He gulps as he feels the blood rushing towards his lower region.

Harry’s cut out from his thoughts as a piece of fabric flungs to his face. He grabs it from his face and he chokes on his saliva upon seeing Y/N laced lavender-coloured underwear. He looks up to his wife leaning against the bathroom door, every inch of her on display for him and him only.

“Mind joining me for a shower, baby?” she smirks as she quickly heads in the shower.

When he hears the shower turn on, Harry jumps up from the bed and quickly takes off his clothes, tripping on his sweatpants on his way to join his wife in the shower.

━

Rosie giggles loudly and she reaches out for the blue butterfly in front of her. Y/N smiles at this soft moment and holds up her digital camera to take a picture. The sky was a nice shade of blue and clouds looked like cotton candy hanging above. The flowers in the garden were blooming and Harry managed to pick out two sunflowers for his sunflowers. It seemed like the perfect day.

Harry comes out with a bowl of freshly washed strawberries and grapes. He sits down next Y/N on the blanket they laid out, giving a soft kiss on her forehead, before looking over at his daughter. “What’s that, bub?” he asks Rosie in a seemingly excited voice. Rosie squeals and babbles to her father as she points out to the blue butterfly fluttering in front of her.

“That’s right, bubs! That's a butterfly!” Harry picks her up and puts her on his lap. Y/N is already munching away on the strawberries. Harry opens his mouth to her, implying that he wants to be fed with the red fruits, Y/N rolls her eyes at his silliness but complies as she puts it in his mouth, plucking out the stem. As she does this, little Rosie looks at the exchange and opens her mouth wide, copying Harry. The couple merely laughed at the little girl’s behaviour.

“You want a strawberry, Rosie?” Y/N smiles as picks one out, she bites lightly on the tip of it so Rosie could have the smallest bite of the fruit. Rosie whines and reaches out for the tiny piece. “Calm down, you bugger. Might wanna say ‘please’ to mommy first, yea?” Harry says to her gently as he rubs her back.

Of course, Rosie wouldn’t know how to say any words at all yet, so she babbles in her baby language and whines to be fed. “Think that might be ‘please’, love,” he says jokingly to his Y/N.

“Well, who am I to say no to the cutest girl ever?” She jokes back and puts the tiny piece of strawberry in Rosie’s mouth, her mouth slightly stained from the juices. Harry wipes it off with a napkin and leans back on his arms, admiring the beautiful day outside. He takes in the clean summer air as he listens to his daughter babbling about to her mother, Y/N merely nods back as if she understands and talks in the most gentle voice to her.

Harry sees Rosie picking up the large sunflower he picked out, her little fingers brushing against the yellow petals. He takes a look at Y/N and as he sees her smile, he thinks back about how lucky he is to have them two. There is not a day where Harry was never in awe of the love and passion Y/N gives to the family and he thinks of how he couldn’t possibly love his Rosie more every day.

He breaks off the other sunflower from its stem and tucks it behind Y/N’s ear. She looks up and blushes at the gesture. “You okay, H?” she asks.

Harry nods and smiles at her. “I just really love you,” he says as he cups Y/N’s cheek, stroking it gently.

Y/N feels the heat rising up to her cheeks. There is not a day where she’ll ever stop being in love with the man in front of her. She holds the hand that’s resting on her cheek and kisses it softly. “I really love you too,”

She leans forward and gives him a kiss or two. They both smile widely at each other, radiating the same amount of love, if not more, that they have for each other. Rosie squeals and claps her chubby hands together as she watches the sweet exchange between her parents. They both laugh at her cuteness. “And we love you too, my little love!” Y/N exclaims to her as she cups her cheeks and plants many kisses all over her face, making Rosie squeal in delight. Harry laughs and smiles at the sight.

Life certainly feels good to him. Surrounded by the loves of his life, there’s no place or moment Harry would exchange this beautiful day with them.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #parkersroses writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #dad!harry styles #husband!harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot

1K notes · View notes

tth-pdf · 3 years

Text

Burning for love; JJK [03]

Contents: Smut, little bit of dirty talk, supernatural themes, romance, fluff, unedited.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello angels, sorry for the LONG wait, was so busy with school and depressing myself, but here it is, I tried to do my best and please also remember that English is not my first language be kind (😩), sorry for any grammar mistake, enjoy it and take care besties! 💖

Jungkook was insatiable, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you, he has already fuck you senseless on the kitchen counter, the sofa, the living room floor, the restroom sink, simply everywhere, but he seem to want more and more and more, he wanted so much that you could hardly believe it.

Right now you were waking up, feeling incredibly good, feeling like everything was fine, but those emotions were gone as soon as common sense started to come back to you. Yesterday, Jungkook’s hands everywhere, that incredible first orgasm, but the one who made it happen… His scent, his bright eyes, strong arms making you feel like you can do it all, but above all the interest he had in you, what makes you feel on cloud nine it’s the way he seemed to be mesmerized by your expressions and sounds, knowing right where to touch without a doubt. Almost every space in your skin was painted by the ferocity with which he seems to love you, that marks on your skin being the carnal representation of your wonderful night but insecurities started to rise right at this moment, your mother will be mad, she will yell at you that in the pack were more suitable omegas for alpha Jungkook, the nasty glances and the possibility that some of the females in the pack may try to take what is yours, damn, the mere thought of it makes your eyes turn bright red provoked by the sudden rage coursing through your body. Immediately sensing the unpleasant feelings in you Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, wet hair and drops of water running down his body, making your mouth water, so just like magic your body and inner wolf instruct you to crawl to the end of the bed and touch him, to offer yourself to him, second thoughts completely forgotten by now so you follow your instincts and touch and admire from his hard abdomen to caressing his broad shoulders and just show him that look in your eyes, the one he knows like the back of his hand consequence of all the hours spent admiring and getting to know your body.

“Little girl woke up hungry?”

A hand of his goes to your waist and the other caress your cheek and just like fire can light up the darkest place your senses explode inside of you and once again everything feels a hundred times more, all the textures around you, you can hear the sounds of children and women playing in the distance, even the steps of the smallest animal but his deep chuckle brings you to him again and you feel like melting. Even kneeling at the edge of the bed he is much taller than you, (like a shelter for the most difficult moments in life), warm and golden skin beneath your fingertips and the delicious beating of his heart calming all your nerves and insecurities.

You look right back at him with the same intensity, different shades of golden dancing in your eyes while his are different shades of deep purple, the connection between both of you more palpable than never, trying not to break the eye contact you turn your face to his nearest scent gland, which means is his wrist, basking yourself in his delicious aroma.

“I see what you are at puppy, but I’m afraid that I can only deal with you once before I leave”

His last words hit you hard making you feel like drowning and desperate from one moment to another.

“Are you leaving?, I thought that this days… Were for us”

He can see your teary eyes making him wish he had never said that, breaking his heart a little.

“Don’t be like that baby, I will make sure to end that meeting as soon as I can to come back to your arms but you will have to be a good girl and wait here”

You know he is in a hurry but you can not help but want submit to his wonderful hands and simply seduce him to have him eating out of the palm of your hand, have him only for yourself and memorize all his features.

“You promised it, you said you were going to make me a priority always, you lied to me”

You weren’t usually like this, but when he is around your common sense flies out of the window, so while you're throwing a tantrum and moving uncontrollably under his body he grows impatient and his alpha instincts kick in, putting with undeniably force both your wrists above your head and growls, the signal he’s giving you to submit, the air in the bedroom changing its way.

“Pretty girls know how to wait and to obey their alphas, I already told you I was sorry puppy and remember that I don’t fucking owe apologies to anyone, if I knew this wasn’t important I would have told them to fuck up, you should know your place baby, but good news for you, I’m feeling like even though you have been a little bit of a bad girl you deserve to remember me all over this pretty skin while I’m gone, isn’t that what my puppy wanted, huh?”

He manhandles you until you’re comfortably seated en his strong tights, holding his gaze you can see all the things he wants you to know, all that shit that cannot be said, all the things that are not expressed in a good way by putting them into words, so instead you will use your bond and body.

“Sit on my dick slow baby, make it hurt so you have something to remember, get yourself full of my pups”

And you do as you are told, you slip right where you belong to, starting to bounce yourself slow and hard but even though it feels like heaven you feel like you’re going to die because he doesn’t touch you, he is just watching.

“Touch me please or I’m going to hit you hard”

He laughs but you know he's holding back the urge to order you around.

“I love when my little girl turns all bossy”

You wiggle your hips not exactly knowing where to look but what makes you let out a loud moan of his name is the way he thrusts his incredible hips harder than you had planned, tip of his touching the spongy spot that makes you meet god in person.

“If I’m not gonna have you for a while at least show me that fierce side of you one more time baby, gods above, look at you, bouncing tits and pretty face with an even prettier voice filling my ears of pretty sounds, fuck puppy, turn around and see yourself on the mirror”

You tell him to wait a second because you want to remember him like this, beneath your body and that playful smirk but when you do turn a little your face to see the image that bites back at you is incredible, you even smile don’t exactly recognizing you but looking damn hot on top of your man. You can’t with the feelings so the first thing that comes to your mind is to grab a hold of some of his beautiful locks of hair and tug hard, enough for him to gain some more lustful rage and suddenly slam you in the mirror that both of you were looking a moment ago with such excitement, what brings you back to reality of the pleasure that does nothing but increase is the manly hand grabbing at your jaw, making it open slightly, enough for him to spit on it. And you fucking love it.

“That’s a good mate baby, swallow it all and show me”

All this time he hasn’t stopped that sinful hips of his so at this time it’s starting to hurt and you begin to loose all your grips but you now that he will catch you anyways.

All you are feeling is incredible, you fell full, satisfied. Your throat feels hoarse but it doesn’t matter as you held gazes once again, but it’s the whole moment, your own bubble. Watching his pretty eyes you realize that you have won in live, entirely.

“You don’t have a fucking idea of how bad I want to mount you everywhere until I know you are really pregnant, hell baby I love you so fucking much”

He is right in front of your face, both of your moths open but your not kissing, now he’s the one grabbing your hair into a fist but he can do whatever he wants with you right now and all you will say is thank you.

You’re both touching the finish lines and it’s then that you wonder if this is how it will always be, hot, sweaty and just incredible.

He kiss you right at the final, where both of you have reached the peak, smiling at each other like fools but entirely living the dream.

[...]

You know that Jungkook told you to not leave the room until he was back but you were really hungry and needing some fresh air, so knowing that maybe everyone was serving him in that meeting you dared to head for the nearest kitchen to just grab something and come back. You are happy when no one approach you on the way, focusing on the task to make you a quick drink and cut up some fruit.

You feel happy and complete, at ease with the environment despite missing your alpha a bit, but your clothes and body still smell like him so that’s something for now. That’s the same reason why you don’t hear the pretty and stealthy she-wolf approaching the kitchen, watching you closely.

“It stinks in here, you must have had a very good night young lady”

You jump a little because you are not supposed to see anybody in the sensitive state in which you now find yourself.

“Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to be here”

You murmured your words shyly so low that if it were not for the incredible senses of the lycanthrope body, the girl would have miss it.

She chuckles lightly and by her smell you know that she is a rare breed of a female alpha, but right now every smell its simply too much, almost unpleasant.

“No worries baby, no one else is here but me”

She is a little intimidating to be honest and It’s evident that she knows clearly what to do to get what she wants.

“I should… Probably go”

You try to rush towards the exit in order to feel protected inside the four walls where everything smells like Jungkook but just as you are about to walk through the door the pretty girl grabs you a little hard enough to make you let out a whimper. And it’s that exact moment that lets you know that something is awfully wrong, that you should have never left the room.

“Where are you going?, let me talk to you for a moment, I never had the pleasure of knowing you formally”

You know that she can her your heart beating uncontrollably and smell the fear mixed with nerves.

“Don’t be scared pretty thing just wanted to chat with you”

There’s something strange in her, something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“This shouldn’t be happening, I’m sorry but I really should get back to-”

While interrupting you she is also forcing you to sit on the small benches that are situated in the kitchen only to bring you to a full state of discomfort and nervousness.

“Is Jungkook really into you honey?”

The sudden questions makes you blink twice and hold a breath, this seems like a pointless conversation, she didn’t even try to do some more small talk .

“Pardon…?”

“Oh my, was I too direct?”

You still don’t see the clarity of the conversation because to your eyes she looks like a lunatic, asking questions about of nowhere.

“Honey, it’s just… Have you never heard what is whispered around the pack, about him and the pretty girl of the Kim pack or even worse… The boy with the deadly beauty from the Park family”

You do have heard the rumors, they were too strong when you were younger and more naive.

“I’m afraid that… I can’t help you with anything, I should really go…”

She puts his body in front of yours so that both of her arms are locked on the wall behind you, blocking any way out.

“Damn, just listen to me for a fucking second, I thought that you knew what was best for you”

You sit still because her harsh words came out more like an alpha command and you just couldn’t fight your true nature.

“Good girl”

You would never imagined that such a mundane phrase would disgust you so much.

“I know you don’t like me wolfie but I have been very well aware of the second thoughts that run at full speed in your little head about the bond that you share with that man”

if you had one wish, you would ask to disappear from this awful situation, if only you had listened to your alpha…

“I don’t understand what you want from me, please just let me go, I’m not going to tell Jungkook”

The female alpha just laughs a little, like you have said to her the funniest thing ever.

“He and I are at the same rank honey and of course you will not tell him anything, I have something that might interest you.”

Your posture is defensive but when she says that she backs a little and you take the opportunity to relax only little bit, a new look of curiosity in your angelic and innocent features.

“I don’t want to upset you honey but look at yourself for a second and tell me if you see yourself as the perfect representation of a good mate for someone like him”

She can easily see the insecurity cross your features because if anything has been bothering you since you found out about the bond it is that.

“I have the perfect solution to all of your concerns baby, there’s someone far more suited to take your place. Look at your neck, he hasn’t even marked you, but really, don’t worry and don’t overthink it, he will be in good hands. I know someone who can make the arrangements, all safe and of course you will be having a far more suited alpha”

It’s really stupid, but you actually think about it, as if all the previous moments with him didn't matter. At the end of the day all you're looking for is his well-being and happiness, isn't it?

People are going to talk, that's for sure, but you could assure him better commentaries and a better future, even if it's not by your side, but what will happen with the few moments that both of you have shared?

“In case you were wondering… No, you will not remember, everything will be gone as soon as the bond is broken. Just think about it for a second, remember all your insecurities and the bad feelings while being his mate, that must be annoying, let yourself be happy, both of you”

You are deep in your thoughts so you miss the way her canines grow in size and that dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“I… I’ll do it”

Call yourself a fool, but that tempting offer was enough for you to maybe, just maybe get yourself a better life, but above all a better life and opportunities for him… Or at least that was what your insecure brain thought.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla, @anachikartadze, @jeonwiixard, @seagulljjk

Nexts update: ?

#bts #bts army #bts hoseok #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts rm #bts seokjin #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts werewolf au #bts series #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jimim #kpop imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook #werewolf jungkook

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The General (part 9): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: nothing is the way it was before. there is no future; there is no past. all there is... is nothing.

wc: 2.1k

tw: light gore

masterlist

“She’s not gonna eat; I already told you that.”

The sounds of Kaori and Toji fighting just outside of your door leak into your room, but you’re beyond caring. Megumi sits beside you in the sun-lit room, eyes scanning the outdoors, looking for any sign of an animal. You’re tucked underneath a warm, thick blanket, despite the temperature outside being warm enough to cause a little sweat. No, things were better this way.

When you had come to after blacking out, Toji, Kaori, and Megumi were hovering over you, trying to figure out what to do about the General’s untimely passing. But in the two months since, no one had quite figured out how to bring you back to life. The only thing they could do is watch you slowly waste away and become a shell of your former self.

Your parents suspect it’s because your princely husband had not sent for you since the war had ended, and you’re grieving a supposed loss. But neither Kaori nor Toji had the heart to admit that this loss wasn’t supposed. It was real.

Your days are spent in your bed or in the garden behind the house, mind empty as Megumi attempts to watch over you and possibly even cheer you up by play-fighting with his father. But more often than not, you’re reduced to tears, and Toji fetches Kaori because he “can’t deal with crying women”.

“My lady?” The head maid enters into your room with an orange and onigiri in her hands. “I brought you some fresh fruit from the market. Hamai sends her regards as well.” Hamai - Yuta’s sister and wife of Yuko - had also attempted to visit you, but her grief motivated her to knock on your door, and you couldn’t bear to think of Yuta or Nanami or--

“Thank you,” you croak, and she nods, handing Megumi the two onigiri.

“Your father said you’d better eat these or he’ll never--”

“‘Feed me again’. I know,” Megumi chants monotonously and takes the rice balls from her hands. “Thank you, Kaori-san.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any visitors?” Kaori asks for the third time. You cut your eyes to her, attempting a glare. “Hamai would love to come and--”

“Listen, the lady said no visitors,” Toji gripes, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “I’ve been fighting off a ton of measly looking men who have nothing to say except ‘I’ve come to see Lady y/n’ and honestly, if you invite another person to this damn place, I’ll kill them on the spot.”

You roll away from the two people and look out of the window, remaining silent as Megumi eats his onigiri and stares at the bears and tigers in his book. Kaori and Toji retreat, restarting their squabble as soon as the door closes, leaving you to think about nothing and no one.

_______________________________________________________________________

You’re in the garden when Megumi runs up to you, holding a light pashmina to cover your shoulders in the chill of fall.

“Careful, you might get sick,” he warns, and you accept the article with a smile.

“Thank you, sweet one.” The child climbs onto the bench you’re seated on, swinging his legs while you stare at the shishi-odoshi in silence. You’re suddenly reminded of the three other sweet children you left back at the camp, and before you can begin to sob out loud, your hand flies to your mouth.

“Hey,” Toji appears from the house, hands deep in his pockets as he surveys the area. “You alright?”

“Just fine,” you whisper, pushing back tears and grief all at once. “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

“Yeah, gardens will give you that.” Toji stands beside the fountain and stares into the water for a moment before turning to Megumi. “There’s a frog out by the lake if you’re interested in--” Megumi hops down from the bench and disappears around the corner in a flash, abandoning you without a worry in the world. You sigh, watching him fade into the distance, and then turn to Toji, who is already staring at you with some unreadable expression.

“What is it?” you grumble, blinking slowly.

“Nothing, just…” Toji presses his lips together and looks sky-ward, thinking about his next words carefully. “I know you feel like everyone in the whole world can fuck off since Geto died… but have you ever considered moving on?” You tilt your head to the side, wondering if Toji really ever listened to himself talk. “I mean, yeah this shit is painful, but…” Toji rubs his neck and looks away from you and back to the fountain. “You have to move on at some point.”

“He told me to wait for him,” you explain, wrapping the pashmina a little tighter and squinting at the shapes in the pool. “I’m going to do just that.”

“Y/n, he’s dead… what good will waiting do? Will you wait your whole life?”

Your head snaps to Toji and you curl your lip up in disgust.

“You’ve never loved anyone in this world but yourself and your money,” you spit, standing from your seated position so fast that Toji takes a half-step back. “I don’t imagine that you’d know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s not true,” he retorts, frowning. “I’m trying to help you, that’s all. I’d hate to see you waste away over a man who can’t even survi--” The pashmina falls from your shoulders as your hand makes contact with his face, the echo of the slap scaring a flock of birds from the surrounding trees into the sky.

“Speak ill of Geto again, and I’ll make sure those words are your last.” Toji doesn’t touch his bruised cheek as you stomp off, watching you retreat back into the house as he realizes that he let you slap him.

_______________________________________________________________________

Screams haunt your sleep, fire burns the camp, and you’re running away, holding hands with the children as you dash into the forest. Geto is behind you, fighting off some unknown assailant, but you instinctively know how the dream is going to end.

You trip and fall over a root of a tree, but you yell at the children to escape. They continue running, not sparing you a second glance, but you turn around just as Geto is stabbed through the chest by a spear and falls with his back to the ground. His head tilts back and he makes eye contact with you, blood pouring out of his mouth as he chokes:

“Wait for me.”

You shoot up in the bed and stumble out of your room through the sliding door that leads to the garden, sweat pouring down your neck and back as you sink to your knees. Your stomach heaves once, twice, depositing yellow bile into the bushes beside the house. The sun is barely up, and as you dry heave, you hear another door sliding open, Toji then Kaori tumbling out of your back door.

“Poison,” Toji grunts, but Kaori pushes him aside before he can get to you.

“No, she didn’t even eat anything before bed,” she states, rubbing your back with her cool hands. Your skin clams up as a breeze rolls across the garden, and you shudder violently before your teeth begin to chatter. “Toji, a blanket.”

“Isn’t that your job?” he gripes, but walks into the house to grab a blanket anyways. When the cloth resta against your back, you feel a little better, but the feeling in your stomach won’t go away.

“My Lady… talk to me. What’s the matter?”

“Go,” you shake Kaori off, not wanting to repeat the events of your dream.

“It’s probably because she didn’t eat,” Toji groans, the stairs squeaking under his weight. “I’ll get her a --”

“Both of you. Go.” You look up at Toji, mustering your sternest look, and aiming the same expression at Kaori, who walks away from you, head hung low.

You stay in the garden as true morning crests over the sky, lying on the bench under the bare cherry blossom tree while the skies turn into pinks and yellows, and reds. The image of Geto’s bloodied face wouldn’t depart from your memory and you feel the ache even deeper than before. The ache intensifies until it feels like all of you is just one large hole, throbbing with need and grief.

Nothing could save you.

No one was coming back for you.

They were all dead, and there was nothing left of the people you had grown to love and care for.

It isn’t until your mother walks into the garden that you realize you might have missed your breakfast of an orange and water, but she comes bearing the fruit and you’re set back at ease. You wordlessly allow your mother to sit beside you, lifting your head so it rests in her lap snugly. She pats your hair gently, then inhales deeply, speaking in her normal soft tones.

“Kaori told me you were sick last night,” she begins, and you nod as if she had asked a question and not stated a fact. “Ever since Geto Suguru died, you’ve been awfully sullen. One might think you had been with him the whole time and not at the Imperial Palace.” You glance up at your mother, and she winks at you. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell your father.”

“How did you know?” you wonder, and she smiles, wrinkles forming at the edges of her mouth.

“Well first, whoever the General gets to write his letters needs to brush up on their penmanship,” she laughs, then shrugs. “But it was your face the day that the General was announced dead that I saw you change. It only took me a few days to realize that you were in mourning, not upset that your prince hadn’t sent for you.”

“Mother, I--”

“You had every right to keep it a secret, although I wish you hadn’t. It would’ve made my interrogation of Toji much easier.” You imagine your own mother - all of five-foot-four, standing up to the massive Fushiguro with a finger to his chest - and you can’t help but chuckle. “Whatever the General did, I haven’t seen you glowing like you did when you returned since you were a little girl. I’ll have to find a way to thank him for that.”

You choke out a deep sob, closing your eyes as you think of the lack of tribute, the lack of a funeral, the missing images of him that won’t return to your memory.

“Though Toji takes good care of you. I haven’t seen that man slack off on his job once since after the announcement. He’s also been very helpful with your father. You know, he would ma--”

“Lady y/n!” Kaori sprints out of the home, and you both look up to see her flustered expression, wondering what would have her so worked up this early in the morning. “There was a messenger from the Imperial Palace in the square!” she stops in front of you, panting heavily. “The Emperor… has fallen… ill.” When she catches her breath, the head maid can finally finish her statement, and she exhales deeply. “As is custom, his eldest son will be taking a tour of the country. And he’s named this village as his final stop, with your house as his resting place for the time he is here. He’ll be in the village in a fortnight.” You sit up, eyeing the maid carefully.

Pieces of a puzzle begin to click together in your mind.

“His eldest son is Prince Naoya, correct?”

“Yes, my lady.” As if sensing your premature plan, Kaori looks you dead in the eyes, daring you to do what she imagines you are already thinking of.

“And you said a fortnight?” Your mother butts in, squinting her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Fourteen days to prepare.” you whisper, lifting your head out of your mother’s lap and retreating to the house to find the eldest Fushiguro. Kaori enters behind you, grabbing your elbow before you can open his guest room door.

“What you’re thinking of is suicide,” she hisses, but you shrug.

“What better way to rejoin Geto than to kill his murderer and then die myself?” you retort, but she slaps a hand over the gap between the wall and the door, blocking you from entering.

“This isn’t what he would want,” Kaori pleads. “Please, think about what he said.”

“I cannot wait for a dead man, Kaori. Now, let me go.” You yank free from her grasp and enter the guest room, eyeing a lazy Toji lounging by the window. “I need your help.”

He rolls his head around to look at you and raises a brow. “With what, my lady?”

“I need to kill a prince in two weeks. Think you can help me with that?”

“You mean treason?” Toji sits up, letting the book he held in his hands drop to his bed, and hums thoughtfully. “Killing a prince as revenge… putting the Imperial Court into chaos… yeah, I think I can help you with that.”

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover @jotazinha @just4readingfics @mxhi @sammytamaki @brownskinnedgirll @keelyshayee @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something

#jujutsu kaisen getou #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #getou x reader #getou suguru #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon!#promise im not ignoring anybody!#just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

the much anticipated second part for the amnesia-related fic.

A wedding ring.

This doesn’t mean that he and Tony are married except that he hasn’t seen Tony with a wedding ring and he hasn’t mentioned a wife and he doesn’t sound like he has a wife and if Rhodey-if Jim had a wife, then wouldn’t he know about her? Wouldn’t they have met by now? He may not know Tony yet, but he doesn’t think that he would be that cruel.

“Colonel Rhodes-”

“Friday, don’t,” Jim says, swatting at the air. “What-why did you hide that from me?”

“Sir believed it would be best,” Friday answers, tone almost quieter. “He...wasn’t sure that you would understand.”

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why would I marry him of all people? He’s not exactly my type.”

“Since I am a learning program, I cannot say for sure. Humans do a lot of illogical things.”

He’s trying to wrap his head around it and avoid Tony at the same time.

Friday won’t let him see any wedding pictures, not until he remembers more.

Even though he’s been (mostly) successful at avoiding Tony for about a week and a half, the man is still so nice.

He’s still operating under the assumption that Jim has no idea that they’re married, and he does stuff like leave out a cup of coffee and offer breakfast up or ask if he wants pizza for dinner.

Jim reads too much into it.

And he doesn’t know why, because it’s not like anything has really changed, except for the fact that Tony won’t call him Rhodey.

Jim gave him permission to, saw how much it killed him with every correction and every reminder. Told him “you can call me Rhodey, if you want.”

And he doesn’t.

Tony never does.

He still almost says it, but Jim is quicker on the tongue, and he doesn’t make a move to try to push any memories at all.

(Even though he remembers how happy Tony was to hear that memory about grocery shopping and Dum-E’s code source.)

He does want to remember. He wants to remember why he apparently married Tony and was genuine about it, why Pepper and him are best friends and never were anything more, why he’s...why he’s so different from what he wanted.

Tony knows that Jim’s acting differently. He’s not sure why. He’s not sure he wants to know why, because that might complicate everything.

And he doesn’t want another thing to be wrong. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him except for the one damn person that probably should be, but Rhodey’s never been good at following rules. (But he’s good at fooling people.)

Pepper talks to Tony a lot. Asks him how he’s doing, if there’s anything she can do.

Repair someone’s memory is a little bit outside of her area of expertise.

“It’ll be okay,” she says, putting her tiny hand over his. “Things will work out.”

They both know that in Tony’s life, luck has never been quite what it seems. Or existent at all, at times.

Ironically, it’s their anniversary of the wedding when Jim remembers something else. It actually comes in the form of looking in the fridge and not finding his apples.

“Quit leaving honey-crisp off of the list just because you don’t like them you asshole,” he calls to Tony.

Tony almost yelps.

“Out of everything in your life and that’s what you remember? Your stupidly sweet apples?”

“Are you gonna get them?”

“Why don’t you come with me?” Tony asks, “just so that you can get your apples and maybe get out of the house for once.”

“Hmph. Fine,” Jim answers. “Where’s my coat?”

“Uh...” Tony trails off, trying to find the words. “Third peg on the...right, I think?”

“You’ve known me for years, and you don’t know where my coat is?”

Rhodey is always the one to hang up his coat, and then put his arms out for Tony’s.

“To be fair, I am important and fancy and a big deal,” Tony scoffs. “Come on, go get your coat and then I’m going to show you what horrible things you buy from the store.”

“It’s not that bad. And what, you don’t like good apples?”

“As sour as can be, sourpatch. As sour as can be.”

Grocery shopping with Tony is...interesting. He didn’t think it would take so long.

“This is why you don’t usually come,” Tony teases him. “I take so long and you end up sitting in the car and cursing at Pepper or Happy about how much time I spend dedicated to snack-judging.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You do,” Tony says, grabbing the cart. “Because you love me and you deal with a lot worse from me.”

“Like what?”

“Best not to talk about it,” Tony says. “We’re in public after all, honey.”

“Ugh, boo,” Rhodey teases. “Give me the list. I bet I can speed-run this.”

“How? Technically, you don’t think you’ve ever been to this store before!” Tony exclaims with a gigantic, shit-eating grin.

“Way to rub it in you bastard,” he says with a laugh. “Now come on, I wanna see what kind of salad you think we’re gonna get.”

“Not you thinking you’re going to be eating junk food,” Tony sighs.

“I lost my memory!”

“That would’ve worked, like, two weeks ago. Now I know better.”

Grocery shopping is...fun. They make fun of foods and different products, and Tony shows him which things he might like.

“I like...I like fruit salad?”

“Yes, yes you do Rhodey-dear,” Tony says. “Your favorite thing in the world for fruit.”

“Seems suspicious.”

“You’ll have to try it again, then.”

Rhodey watches him as they’re shopping. He’s easy to be around, honestly. He has that sort of energy that makes you feel like he’s just happy to be in that moment.

Tony also has very questionable taste in everything.

“Quinoa?”

“What? You’ve eaten it before! It’s not your least favorite thing that I’ve cooked?”

“How is it not? Is it because I’m old?”

“No, not because you’re old,” Tony scowls. “When you’d come back from the service, you’d eat literally anything I put in front of you. I once gave you a block of cheese and you just sat there. Eating it.”

“There’s no way I did that.”

“You did! Ask Pepper, she has a picture of it!”

He goes back to quiet after that, remembering the picture.

Jim isn’t even sure he wants to bring it up. He’s not even sure if he could love Tony again, and somehow that thought makes his head hurt.

He knows that apparently, he fell in love once.

So he needs answers.

Jim had talked to his parents, but he hadn’t really had an opportunity to talk about anything important. Try as he had to get more information out of them, they weren’t giving much up, except for parts about his military achievements and funny stories that he’s written to them about.

When he gets back home and he sees Mama, she knows.

“Come here baby,” she says, putting him into her arms. “Let me answer your questions.”

“Why him?”

Mama laughs, grinning up at him from her place on the couch.

“You reacted like this when you first started rooming together, too. I was worried that I’d be involved in a court case for attempted murder!”

“And you weren’t?”

“No,” Mama answers. “Instead, I get no phone call from you for three weeks, until the day before your holiday break started, and you told me that you were bringing who you used to call ‘the biggest nuisance since fruit flies’ home to Thanksgiving.”

“Why did I...why did I bring him?”

“I didn’t get that answered until he fell asleep,” she says. “I’m making you some coffee, alright dear?”

“Okay, so long as I get an answer.”

“So impatient,” she mutters as she makes her way to the kitchen, Jim following.

He watches how easily his mom pours the coffee, and remembers in a brief flash that Tony always would bring the fancy, flavored creamer to the holiday events.

“Oh come on,” Tony said. “You have gotten too used to my kindness, and there’s no reason to stop being kind. Besides, remember last year when you nearly cried because I bought creamer from the store? Yeah, not having a repeat of that.”

“And would that be so bad?” he teased Tony, wrapping an arm around his waist, and-

He blinks.

That was...that was definitely a new kind of memory.

“James, are you alright?” His mother is looking at him, and maybe she knows, maybe she doesn’t know that he just remembered something. He’s honestly not sure.

“Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m good.”

Mama looks across the room, smiling.

“He was a timid little thing when he got here. Fixed up the washing machine when it broke, just in time. Nearly wore a suit to dinner, said you didn’t tell him what kind of ‘casual’ we were going for...”

He snorts as he slowly remembers that one.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean a suit?!” Tony had wailed, gripping Rhodey’s shirt. “You said I had to dress nice!”

“I meant literally anything but your Black Sabbath shirt!”

“Why would I have worn my Black Sabbath shirt? Your mom would probably think I was a Satanist!”

They both look at each other for a moment, and Rhodey’s the first one to break and laugh.

“Listen you idiot, it won’t be so bad. We can just ditch the coat, ditch the tie, and you’ll be...okay. A bit nicer than most of us, but hey. That’s what I get for not telling you that suits are weird.”

“Suits are not weird, you’re just uneducated in what is sophisticated,” Tony says, turning his nose up as Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, sure, because knowing which one is the dessert spoon is going to help me save people abroad. My bad.”

Tony looks back at him, and his heart skips a beat. It does. Really, it does.

It almost feels like someone’s reading back to him what he already knows at this point.

His mom squeezes his hand, smiling.

“You remember at least some of it, don’t you?”

“Well...uh, yeah? I-I do.”

“Does Tony know that you know that you’re...married?”

“No,” Rhodey says. “I know some, but not enough.”

“Give him a chance,” she says. “And get back home, I’m sure he’s missing you.”

Rhodey embraces his mother, and prepares for the drive home.

Being missed is a weird concept to deal with.

He also did not exactly think of that. So he’s currently driving back and checked his phone to seven missed calls from Tony, three from Pepper, and one text from Happy that simply reads “lol ur dead hahaha good luckkkkk”

Well shit.

Tony, understandably is pissed and scared and a tad upset.

Not a tad.

“Where were you?” He says as soon as Rhodey appears back in the kitchen. Tony’s hands wander close, and he almost leans in.

Almost.

“I was visiting my parents,” he responds. “Sorry, forgot to text.”

“Please remember next time, your-well, Tony’s annoying when you leave,” Pepper says.

(Okay Rhodey doesn’t know how they got away with this for so long, it’s really, really obvious that they’ve been covering it up.)

“I will,” Rhodey says. “Did I miss anything?”

“I’ve elected that we’re going to cook tonight,” Tony declares. “I am absolutely sick to death of takeout, and I’m pretty sure that with your lack of knowledge on recipes now, I have you beat in the kitchen.”

“I can still read recipes, you dumbass. Besides, I just remembered your stupid ‘bake’ hack for your stupid casserole dish, so...”

“Out of everything, and that’s the thing you remember today?!”

“Well, I also remembered that apparently you wore a suit to my house for Thanksgiving!”

Tony stops.

“What else you remember from that, or was it just that?”

He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Pepper, doesn’t want to say anything just yet.

“I remember that you were weird about your suit!”

Tony deflates a bit, but still smiles.

God, he looks gorgeous.

Rhodey blinks. Shakes his head out of the thought.

“So. What are we cooking?”

Tony and cooking is a very interesting concept because it shouldn’t work.

He never stops moving, can lose interest quickly, and Rhodey would think that he could burn water.

But he doesn’t. Tony hums along to music, and he tells him all about his favorite songs and why.

It’s not any rock music, any heavy metal.

“I don’t listen to that all the time,” Tony says. “You always think I do!”

“Oh right, because someone who personally has Angus Young’s number just casually isn’t someone who listens to the band all the time, sure,” Rhodey says sarcastically.

Tony grins, and it’s probably the best damned thing he’s seen all day.

His heart zings at the realization that Tony smiling is what makes him smile now, what makes him want to stay and learn so much more about how they came to be, what they’ve done together.

Dinner is fun. Tony tells him all about college and what they used to do, and what Rhodey had done.

Memories are coming back easier.

“You totally emailed the professor really petty responses!” Tony cries, laughing.

“It wasn’t that petty,” Rhodey said, huffing. “He was an asshole anyway, he hated whenever we would come late because we wanted coffee, and your order was too complicated!”

“It wasn’t that complicated!”

“Oh I’m sorry, them having it written down behind the register for when you come in?”

“Oh, like they didn’t have a description of you.”

“Yeah, as your long-suffering companion,” Rhodey teases.

“You’ve always been,” Tony says. “Because you’re the best.”

Rhodey stops stirring the pot for a moment.

“Rhodey? What is it?”

“I...”

Tony stands there, grinning. He’s nervously fidgeting, and it’s his move to say the vows.

“You know, I wasn’t ever sure you’d be up to marrying someone like me,” Tony confesses. “Especially since I almost burned down our dorm room one time.”

“Wasn’t just one time,” Rhodey teases. “But carry on.”

“You loser,” Tony says. “Even now, interrupting my heartfelt moment.”

There’s a ripple of laughter from the small crowd that’s gathered. Rhodey smiles at him, feels tears prick up around his eyes.

“But I knew that I loved you ever since you would always buy my favorite ramen even though you hated it, and you were the one to get the pizza when I was sad. I knew I wanted the chance of seeing you every day, coming home to you at the end of the day. You’re home, Rhodey. You’re it. No one else could ever possibly hold a candle compared to you.”

Rhodey startles, looking at Tony.

“I...I remember. I remember!”

“Remember what?” Tony asks cautiously.

(He can’t be let down. Not again.)

“You smashed cake in my face at our wedding!” Rhodey yells. “And we got married! We got married! Where the fuck is my ring?”

Tony laughs, scooping Rhodey into a hug.

“I can’t believe you remember.”

“Well I was bound to at some point,” Rhodey says. “I can be smart, doofus.”

“Don’t call me ‘doofus’ during an emotional outburst you absolute nimrod!”

“I’ll call my husband whatever I want,” he teases, “although I still wanna know where my ring is.”

“Come with me and get it,” Tony says. “I hid them in my room, just in case.”

It’s all coming back, the steps they take, the way that Tony supports him as he moves slower.

Iron Man, for one. War Machine the next. The dates they went on, the proposal.

The rings are simple. They’re also not wedding rings.

The class rings.

Rhodey remembers getting them, remembers getting his initials and Tony’s on the inside, remembers how Tony made some “adjustments” after they received them.

“You know that you got me,” Tony had told him.

It slides on, and it feels right. Feels like something was missing.

He looks up at Tony, smiling.

“Show me the pictures, Tony.”

Pepper walks in to find Rhodey absolutely terrorizing Tony about the decor choices from the reception.

“So I agreed with red and gold? I had no problem with it?”

“Well, I did do some major convincing, so...”

“What does that mean?!”

"You’ll remember later and be sad,” Pepper says. “Or happy. But please don’t tell me if you remember it.”

“You loved the color scheme,” Tony says. “Because you love me!”

“Now I am doubting,” Rhodey declares. “I loved you enough to have those colors?”

“You lost a bet, Boss,” Friday interjects. “That’s why there were those themes.”

“Friday,” Tony whines. “Why snitch on your creator like this?”

“I am not programmed to have loyalty, Sir.”

Rhodey laughs, taking Tony’s hand in his.

“Well, I guess I’ll still love you. Even if our wedding theme was weird.”

“It wasn’t that weird!”

It takes about another month before all of the memories are all back to normal, and in that time Rhodey learns (and relearns) a couple of things:

1.) The best feeling in the world is waking up to Tony, who sleeps very lightly and also wacked Rhodey in the face a total of ten times. (That’s not a new thing, he remembers.)

2.) He special-orders peppermint-flavored coffee creamer.

3.) Tony was lying when he said that Rhodey’s new favorite movie was The Goonies.

(He mostly forgave him for that one.)

#lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #part two!#rhodey has amnesia #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #also yes the use of 'jim' in the beginning and then transitioning to rhodey a bit is intentional #sorry if it is a bit confusing but i like how i formatted that one so that's what we're getting with this one #i hope you all like it!

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Note

How do you think various Chris Evans character, and Mr. Evans himself, would react to having an S/O loving, and being good at baking?

This sounds like a All In One type of deal!! Here’s a couple of his characters who I think will enjoy their s/o’s baking.

Blurbs for: Chris Evans, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Andy Barber, Colin Shea, Frank Adler, and Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Language, Fluff

Chris Evans

Chris Evans may be a treat guy. He loves when you bake, especially making treats. You’ve made a lot of good pastries and he really loves your cookies or muffins. You’re a good cook, so Chris knows you are good with baking. Sometimes you’ve made a cake for his birthday and it wasn’t much but he loved it. It was simple and sweet.

He loves when he wakes up or walks in to the smell of cookies or cupcakes. In the morning, sometimes you make muffins. He loves those. And they’re always made out of love. You’d say Chris eats almost all of them in one day. You try out new recipes, do bread and brownies. Oh, how he loves your brownies. There are so many things you can make that Chris didn’t know exist and be in Heaven. He’s just glad to have you in the house to make him special.

And you love to see his reactions with your own treats.

Steve Rogers

What a perfect gif to use for an innocent little blurb of baking!

Steve is always the one to offer to cook you dinner but you love baking for fun. Whether you had powers or not, you had the skill of putting the whole Avengers under a sugar rush and food coma. You can offer the villains some cookies and they’d say thank you and go to jail. Steve loves watching you bake in the kitchen, especially at night.

He sits at the island and watches you read off the instructions on your phone with your sleeves rolled up and flour all over your shirt. He’s sometimes your taste-tester too. He is always your security guard. It’s not safe when you got the team going for the batter-covered spoon and make a mess in the kitchen. Sometimes Wanda joins you and bakes with you.

Steve loves the smell of your baking, he enjoys the cookies and brownies. He loves the chocolate peanut butter brownies like the rest of the team. Not going to lie, he loves to join in on the fun. He licks the batter off your finger or your cheek when the batter flies out of the mixture. And the rules are simple:

Steve gets to take the treat before anyone else.

Ransom Drysdale

Those cookies he stuffs in that big mouth of his isn’t the only treat he gets. Relax, I’m still on the topic of baking. I don’t know what you guys were thinking. Pfft! Anyway, Ransom seems like the sweet guy to eat cookies like the Biscoff’s. You bake cookies for the man and sometimes with his attitude he doesn’t get much.

The man doesn’t like the mess in the kitchen but if your baking is good, he’s going to allow it. On the Holidays, you bake like crazy. Pumpkin and berry pies (Ransom’s favorites), any kind of cookies and muffins just make his days better but doesn’t calm his cocky attitude. Though he doesn’t show it much, he always loves when you bake. Baking in the kitchen with his sweater on and your hair up, he loves to watch you.

If he’s good one day, you give him one of your treats. Pumpkin spice always filled the air in Ransom’s home. You guessed Ransom loved the smell of pumpkin spice, especially in the beginning of fall. Muffins are his favorites, too. But if he’s good:

He deserves the treat. It’s not easy to get one of your pastries.

Andy Barber

Andy has hard times dealing with many cases at the courthouse and when he comes home, he’s welcomed with the smell of sweets. He enjoys whatever you make in that kitchen and when he enters he gives you a gentle kiss on the shoulder with his soft words greeting you. You were an amazing cook and on top of that is the baking.

He loves when you make banana bread or cake bars like his number one favorite coffee cake. Jacob, his son, loves when you make sweets. Jacob is the troublemaker to get into a mess and he always gets the bowl with the leftover of batter. Most of the time, you come into Andy’s office and let him get a small taste of the batter and he loves when you do that. Even when he’s tired, you lift his spirits up.

There are certain rules when you come to baking, the boys leave you alone in the kitchen till you call them. You remembered the time Jacob spilled the whole flour over the counters and yourselves. Jacob never helped you ever again after that. You did teach him small things about baking, you baked him a cake once and he liked it. Jacob and Andy always light up when you bake in the home. Andy will always gets the first taste-test from the spoon.

Colin Shea

Colin can be one eater. If he can make out with a sandwich, he will make out with your cupcakes. He’s always the one to run into your kitchen and steal whatever you baked. You basically yell at him because he doesn’t understand that they just came out of the oven.

You’re cautious of having him around when baking. But he LOVES your baking. He won’t go to any other baking place but ask you to make him something good. He eats almost all of them and will shove them in his pockets. Unlike the rest, he loves when you make cinnamon rolls. He loves extra icing though. You always wonder where all that goes to when he still is in good shape when eating so much of your sweets.

He will shove the cookie, brownie, whatever into his mouth with no problem. One bite and it’s gone. Like some dog trying to eat his quick before the other gets to it. He’s not like any other guy which makes you think he’s comfortable around you. To be happy and funny around you and your baking. You will never have him bake with you. Because then your whole kitchen is covered in flour and eggs.

Frank Adler

Your favorite boat soft boy, Frank. Being in a small home with his niece, it was not easy for them. But with you being there for them, it was a dream for the both of them. Baking had been a thing for you since you were little. You remembered baking with your mom and it became a thing for you. To make someone smile.

Mary always asked if you were going to bake something and bring them some cookies. You always brought something new to them. Mary said the fruit tarts were her favorites. Frank always told you to stop baking because he knew it was “hard” work and you do bake in the middle of the night. But he had nothing to stop you with so he just let it happened and thanked you every time. Eventually when Mary stayed the night at Roberta, you and Frank hung out at your place and you baked some cookies.

Who knew Frank loved cookies?

He always thought of you as a friend but you coming over everyday and night to hand baked goodies for him and Mary was something he won’t forget. He’d wake up to seeing your face and remembering it when he goes to sleep. He then realized you were something more to him. And that he loved you and your baking.

Ari Levinson

Last but not least, my husband, your husband, your sexy long-haired boy. Ari Levinson. Before Ari didn’t know how good were you with cooking and baking. Until he tried it. And boy was he shocked. He’s never found something to good and that he always wanted you to keep baking.

It wasn’t a normal thing you do. It was on the mission when you worked in the kitchen. You served sometimes and everyone on your team enjoyed what you made. They always asked why your treats were so familiar to their grandma’s baking and that just makes you laugh.

Ari loves your baking and he knew you don’t do it much but he’s happy when you do bake. He always wondered how he ended up with someone with such good pastries. He would probably join you in your baking. So let’s hope he can handle not making a mess.

Official Taglist:

@jtargaryen18 @axen-gers @donutloverxo @captainchrisbaby @patzammit @bucksgoat @la-cey @void-hoechlin @lovepeacefood @stargazingfangirl18 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @nickysurfer28 @nbarnes @mcntsee @adriannajackson @chuckbass-love @sebbystanlover-vk @onetwo3000 @captainamerica-is-bae @cheeseburgersstuff @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @rororo06 @elliee1497 @navybrat817 @waywardodysseys @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @what-is-your-plan-today @princess-evans-addict @dummiesshort @renaissancecherub @bval-1 @thecomplexness @rebloggingeverything @chris-butt @peggycarter-steverogers

Want a tag? Just ask!!

#all in one #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #colin shea x reader #frank adler x reader #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #optimistic-dinosaur-nacho #opti-dino-nacho drabbles

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brain-deadx0 · 3 years

Text

The Jacket

Summary: Patton and Janus conspire to trick Remy into getting the coat he wants.

Warnings: illusions to past oc character death, mentions of past alcoholism

Note: This takes place between part 2 and part 3 of New Big Brother

Janus was relaxing on the couch, idly listening to the boys playing outside, and drinking a wine glass full of fruit punch. Sober or not he was not giving up drinking out of them.

The boys had been getting quiet and Janus was just about to go check on them when his phone pinged, alerting him to a text from Patton.

‘hey I need a favor’

‘No.’

‘What is it?’

A moment later his phone lit up with Patton’s contact photo.

“I thought we were texting.” Janus told him dryly before taking a sip of punch.

“Yeah but this is faster.” Patton told him in hushed excitement.

Janus smirked and shook his head, “So what’s the favor? And no I am not going to drive all the way over just to bring you doughnuts again.”

“No, not this time.” His little brother told him, “So you know how I told you I was planning on adopting again-”

“-And let your six-year-old talk you into a teenager, yes I remember. Why? I thought you said the kid was nice. He hasn’t changed his tune already has he?”

“No, no, he’s great.” Patton assured him, “You should see the two of them together. Virgil is completely enamored with him. And Remy is so good with him too.”

“So what was this “favor” you wanted then?” Janus asked, sensing Patton was about to start gushing about the two for far longer than either had time.

“Oh, right!” Patton said, “Remy’s still kinda tiptoeing around. And I know it takes time to adjust to a new house, and rules, and people and I know it’ll probably be a while before he’s comfortable enough to ask for things and I wanna make him more comfortable-”

“Patton.”

“Right.” He said as he pulled himself back on task, “Well we’re currently school shopping and he’s been pretty hesitant to pick anything he thinks is too much money. I left him and Virgil alone for a few minutes and when I came back I saw them talking about a pleather jacket.”

“Uhg. Pleather.” Janus said in disgust. A terrible creation.

Patton laughed on the other end of the phone, “That seemed about Remy’s feelings too.” He told him, “But I’m pretty positive he wants a leather jacket.”

“So, you want to get him a jacket without him knowing you got him a jacket?”

“Pretty much. So will you help me?”

Janus was about to answer when he was suddenly reminded of the fact he had been meaning to check on his children.

Whack!

“Ow!”

“Do I need to come out there?” Janus called.

“No!” The two responded immediately.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He told his brother, “But I have to go.”

“Me too. Thanks, Jan.” Patton told him before hanging up.

“What are you two doing?” Janus called as he made his way to the back yard.

“Nothing!”

…

Janus had gotten the information he needed from Patton and began his hopefully short search for a decent leather jacket.

“Hey, J, long time no see.” August greeted when Janus entered the pawnshop, “How’re the kids? They’re what? Eight now?”

“Nine and a half.” He corrected.

“Damn, time flies. Seems like just yesterday Apollo was dragging your drunk ass to a meeting.”

“Believe it or not I remember that day.” Janus smiled, “I gave them a black eye on the way there.”

“That’s where they got it!” August laughed.

“They deserved it. I didn’t have a problem.” Janus told him, “Bastard dragged me into sobriety kicking and screaming.”

“And how’s it been going?”

“Great unfortunately. Means I can’t tell them “I told you so” when I see them again.” Janus quipped. He sighed, “The boys both look more like Apollo every day. Roman definitely takes after them.”

“And Remus?”

“Definitely mine.” Janus huffed.

“Karmas a bitch.” August told him sagely.

Janus smacked his arm with a laugh.

“So what brings you here? You don’t usually come to this part of town anymore.”

“Pat decided to get another kid.”

“Where’d he find this one?”

“Believe it or not he went through the normal method this time.” Janus told him.

“So how old's the kid? If you’re looking for presents I don’t exactly have many toys here. Besides, aren't you, like, the rich uncle now?”

Janus scoffed, “Rich my ass. And I don’t think he’d be overly interested in toys. He’s fifteen.”

“Damn. Guess I won’t be sending him a teddy bear then.”

“You’d have more success sending it to Pat.”

“He still single?” August asked.

“Yes and you’re still not his type.” Janus told him.

“Hey thirtieth times the charm.” August shrugged, “So what are you looking for? Video games? Instrument? I keep the good ones in the back.”

“Nah, Pat sent me in search of a leather jacket. The kid isn’t one for gifts apparently so we’re going to trick him.”

“Fair,” August told him, “Come on, I’ll show you where the display ones are. If you can’t find one I think I have more in the back too.”

“What don’t you have in the back?” Janus laughed as they walked.

“A boyfriend unfortunately.”

...

‘we’re still on for this weekend right’ Patton texted.

‘Yes.’ came the reply.

Patton smiled. Remy had agreed to lunch at Janus’s and his brother had sent him a picture of the coat. It was perfect! It looked used enough to be worn in and believable but still in good condition. Augy was a lifesaver and even gave Janus a good deal on it. Which if Remy ever found out the coat wasn’t actually an old one of Janus’s would hopefully make him feel better.

Patton just hoped Remy would take the bait and accept the jacket.

#new big brother #brain dead writes #janus sanders #patton sanders #tw past alchoholism

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

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On the Issue of Mortality

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: Whether weather whether weather, whether you're invulnerable or not!

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I can control my powers now! The only downside is I’m not invincible anymore, sooo I could die.”

“WHAT?!”

Same, Pigsy. Same.

Monkey King doesn’t do much, when it comes to his successor. Not at first.

Sure, he watches the Kid from time to time, just to see what’s going on. Which isn’t creepy, not at all, it’s just...well, how else is he supposed to check on Kid? Besides, he’s not watching him 24/7, and he can tell when the Kid is in trouble now, from the flare of power he feels whenever Kid is using the staff or some other ability.

Sometimes, though, there’s no fight. Like when he lets Mei shoot rockets at him. Comical as it is, he can tell Kid is letting all this power get to his head.

But hey, why not? Kid beat DBK, let him have a little fun. Monkey King isn’t going to knock him for that, not when he did much worse back in his day. Way worse

Yeah...he really had an arc, didn’t he.

He lets it go until he feels a massive flare, one that definitely isn’t controlled. He summons nimbus and heads off, and finds Kid in a crater of his own making, looking lost.

Then, Kid tries to shove the whole “stopping the bad guys” thing onto him, and, like, hello?? He gave Kid the staff for a reason. He’s retired. Totally, definitely retired.

“Every time I try to do something I just gunk everything up! Something’s wrong...” There’s something deeper to those words, more vulnerable and hurt than Monkey King is ready for. He isn’t Kid’s dad.

Wait, does Kid even have a dad? Is that something he needs to be concerned about? Whatever, the Kid’s at least eighteen, he’s an adult. Adults don’t need dads. Monkey King didn’t need one, just look at him. He’s the great Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Monkey King. Who needs parents?

Monkey King gets up, hops on the Kid’s shoulders to get a closer look, as well as groom the kid a little, because his hair is a mess. Humans have all these advancements with soap and showers and they can’t even get their hair clean. Clearly, monkeys have it figured out. Nothing gets someone cleaner than a good grooming. And hey, he finds a little snack in there!

He uses his golden vision of his for a second as he grooms Kid, and, yup.

There’s the problem.

Making the Kid freak out a little is all for fun, but the root of the issue is something Monkey King didn’t want to have to deal with. A general lack of martial arts skill is easy, you just teach them the basics and work from there. What’s wrong with Kid is going to take a lot more work, emotional work, and Monkey King didn’t think he’d have to expend that sort of energy for this.

The issue, of course, is simple. Lack of self confidence.

“I have self confidence!”

“Nope. You’re just loud.” And that’s the thing, Monkey King understands. He was always loud but he was confident not long after. Then again, he got his powers gradually. Poor Kid has them all at once, probably hard to find the confidence for all of that out of nowhere.

Jeez. Why’d he have to pick the Kid with baggage?

Fake it till you make it is what Kid says, and he wants to scream, because that isn’t how it works. If it was, then everyone could use the staff. It takes a specific breed of something that Monkey King knows the Kid has, but isn’t letting out. Self confidence, at its core, comes from a strong foundation. If Kid doesn’t have that, then they have to start from scratch, which takes time.

And he’s not that annoyed, he’s willing to wait, but the Kid isn’t. And, sure, yeah, there’s the thing with Red Son (and holy shit, Red Son? That brat is still around? He’s not using the fire, but still) and the Kid’s friends, but they would be fine! Probably. He doesn’t think they’re that incompetent.

But the Kid isn’t satisfied with that so he insists, and Monkey King pulls out a card he doesn’t want to play.

Control over your powers for the price of invincibility. Seriously, if it were him, he’d never. He likes living, thanks. But then again, this Kid is apparently loyal to a fault, because not two seconds after he gives out the idea the Kid is taking it.

And he’s confident, when he seals away the Kid’s powers, but inside he’s terrified.

Suddenly, this Kid can get hurt, can die. This Kid could get hit by a car or smashed by a demon or fall to a host of any other preventable death scenarios because he’s vulnerable now.

And the thing is, Kid doesn’t seem to care? As if the idea of facing unknown horrors with the added bonus of being able to die is just a regular Tuesday, nothing to worry about. Which, that is so, so weird, and startling and Monkey King is a little proud that he picked a student so selfless, so willing to face mortality for the sake of keeping others safe.

But is it even selflessness or a lack of self worth? A lack of self confidence is bad enough, but he doesn’t even know if Kid thinks he’s got value and that’s far more concerning to him than it ought to be.

He’s also got a lot of anxiety now, because he has to watch this Kid, to make sure he doesn’t die randomly. Great.

He flies the Kid to the weather tower, because time is of the essence, and he watches. Every wrong step the Kid takes, he tenses. Every slip up, as Bull Clones go flying and chase after him, as Red Son rushes him—Sun Wukong clenches his fists and physically stops himself from jumping in. He’s retired. Kid’s gotta learn to clean up his own messes.

Kid is actually pretty good at using the staff to block blows. Offensive fighting with it is slow going, though, and Monkey King files that away for plans of future training. He watches the Kid run towards the control panel and the Bull Clones close in, and, for a split second, he feels a little flare.

Golden vision. It flickers in the Kid’s eyes and he doesn’t know what the Kid sees, but Monkey King is sure it’s enough.

Or maybe not, as the Kid gets dog piled on by Bull Clones, Red Son jumping on top of the pile.

Monkey King holds his breath, wondering if he should step in—because he knows Kid needs to learn but what’s the point of learning if you die in the process—and then.

Then.

He lets out a sigh of relief and heads out as lightning strikes the staff, watching the Kid duck behind the control panel to avoid the shock, the explosion. Smart. He always used brute force. Good to know Kid has a head on those shoulders that have more use than just a battering ram.

He vanishes into the horizon as the skies clear, back to Flowering Fruit Mountain. Once there, he takes a deep breath, eats a few peaches. Lays back on his cloud and grooms a monkey or two to try and destress.

It doesn’t work. Dammit. His successor is mortal and vulnerable. This is going to add, like, 5 times the effort he thought he would have to put into training this kid. He has to be careful. He has to be cautious. He can’t just throw things at the kid and expect him to be fine.

Okay. This is fine. Is it? Maybe. Probably not.

Because if the Kid is going to really take up his mantle, he’s going to have to deal with the enemies that come with it. Which means dangerous demons, creatures Monkey King doesn’t dare name, all sorts of dangers that can easily kill someone, if that someone isn’t invulnerable.

He has to give the Kid space, can’t smother him, doesn’t want to. But how is he supposed to breathe easy when his successor can die any time?

Clones, maybe? But those always come back to mess with him if he keeps them around for too long. And he’s an easily bored guy, his clones need action. He doesn’t think babysitting will make them happy.

Ugh, he needs a nap. If he can even find it in himself to sleep, with all these thoughts and questions.

He’ll figure it out. He always does, in the end.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #kitkat1003 #MK #monkey king #sun wukong #monkie kid MK #monkie kid monkey king

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nicnacsnonsense · 3 years

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Been thinking about my hypothetical live action remake of Korra (seriously Netflix, call me, I have so many amazing ideas) and how I would tackle season two since it’s definitely the season that needs the most work, specifically and especially the Unalaq & Raava-Vaatu plotline. I kind of got carried away, like I do, but I’m very excited about it; a lot of good strong themes here. I’m going to start by talking about the changes to the first half, pre-Beginnings interlude, then the Beginnings episodes, then the back half. For the most part, all of the major plot beats still stay the same, at least until the climax, but the way those beats are contextualized are going to get pretty different building up to a radically different climax (no spirit being kaiju fight, yay!).

With Unalaq in the front half, the one major change is I want the religious fundamentalism vibes that come on so strong when he’s introduced to ramp up after the Northern Tribe soldiers show up and especially after Korra finally realizes he’s a bad guy, rather than petering out like happens in canon. I want to actually see him impose strict expectations of behavior in accordance with what he feels honors the spirits on the people of Southern Water Tribe. Let’s get some misogyny and restrictive gender roles up in here. That’s going to be great (from a storytelling perspective, obviously) because it’s relatively low-hanging fruit to communicate that the bad guy is bad, it fits in well thematically with where we’re going and the religious fundamentalism, and there is canon precedent in The Last Airbender that restrictive gender roles are a traditional value in the Northern Water Tribe.

A quick sidebar related to themes, in whatever episode where we first have Unalaq really cracking down on those gender roles, I want a B or possibly C plot with the Tenzin family vacation, where Jinora comes out to Tenzin as nonbinary. She is questioning with regards to the exact nature of her gender, but does say its some combination of both masculine and feminine, though other nonbinary identities – including agender, genderfluid, and a gender that is completely divorced from male-female – are floated. Tenzin is supportive and affirming and also suggests Jinora talk with her Aunt Kya, who he identifies as being a transwoman. (Kya is a trans lesbian in my version; you gotta deal with it.) This obviously serves to contrast Unalaq with his strict gender roles, and continues to build our theme.

For Korra in the first half, I do want to drag her emotional volatility down just a tad as compared to where she’s at in canon for these episodes. I still want her getting emotional and acting rash – that’s a huge part of her character – but I want her anger to feel sympathetic to the audience. Though I do also want at least one moment where Korra gets angry for good reason and starts yelling at Unalaq and he chides her for being emotional and irrational and he’s not going to discuss this with her if she can’t behave calmly and logically, blah, blah, blah, misogyny.

The final and biggest change that we’re making in the first half is Korra does not yet have her bending back. Season one does still end with her talking with Aang and learning energybending, which she uses to restore everyone else’s bending and restore her own connection to the other three elements, but in the opening episode of season two, we learn that she still can only airbend. She says that as far as she can tell everything should be alright and she should be able to bend fire, water, and earth, but obviously she can’t. She also mentioned that while it looks like it should, she feels like there is something missing, or maybe something there that she can’t see. Which my clever readers of course realize is a reference to Raava. After her flashback coma, Korra gains the other elements back, explaining that what she was missing was her connection to Raava had been damaged. Not broken, which is why she could still airbend and do all the other Avatar stuff she was doing, but damaged enough that Raava could no longer switch elements for her or give her access to multiple elements at once.

Moving on to Beginnings, right off the bat, I’m getting rid of the notion that all humans have to huddle on the backs of lion turtles out of fear of the spirits. The two worlds are connected, but humans and spirits co-exist peacefully for the most part. The lion turtles instead act as mediators when necessary, and do sometimes give out bending for humans to defend themselves with, but not as a regular thing every time they need to leave their city. We’ll have to switch up the stealing fire and Chin plot a little to accommodate this change, but somehow or other it happens and Wan gets banished with firebending.

Eventually he comes across Raava and Vaatu fighting and these two characters are getting some major shake ups. First off, in canon Raava identifies as being peace to counter Vaatu’s chaos, but peace is not the opposite of chaos; order is. Now, looking into yin & yang, chaos & order are not aspects that traditionally apply to them, but we’re going to let that addition of order to yang and light and chaos to yin and dark stand. Not everything has to be perfectly aligned. That said, one way in which we are going to switch things to make them fit better is yang is the masculine energy with yin as feminine. We’re switching the voices.

So Wan sees them fighting, and Vaatu calls out for help. And Wan is like, oh no, a damsel in distress; I’ll help you, milady! So, he helps, giving Vaatu the advantage. She beats up Raava, then flies off. Raava chastises Wan, explaining that he is the spirit of light and order, and he has been trying since the beginning of time to defeat Vaatu, but their battles have always ended in a draw. But now Wan has given Vaatu the advantage and if they don’t fix this, she’ll be victorious at the upcoming Harmonic Convergence, sending the worlds into ten thousand years of darkness. To which Wan is like, oh no, that sounds horrible. Well, Mr. Masculine Manly Spirit-Man Raava, I like light and order and you seem like a logical rational person; I’ll for sure help you put that emotional crazy spirit lady in her place. (Have I made the irony here clear enough? I don’t think I can get much more blatant. Though obviously in the show version it would be a little more subtle.)

After that we get Raava & Wan’s training and learning the elements montage, with some encounters with “corrupted” spirits along the way. Corrupted being Raava’s word, and he elaborates to say that all spirits fall under either Raava or Vaatu’s domain, all with varying inherent levels of light & order and dark & chaos to them. Vaatu gaining in power is causing the levels of dark& chaos in these spirits to rise, throwing them out of balance. Eventually comes time for Harmonic Convergence, Raava & Wan vs. Vaatu, and Vaatu wins. Ten thousand years of chaos, baby. With the last of the spirit energy as Harmonic Convergence ends, Wan fuses with Raava, then unleashes a crazy, amazing spirit attack, imprisoning Vaatu, banishing all the spirits from the physical world to the spirit world, and sealing the portals, all as an attempt to mitigate the fall out from chaos ascendent. Since then, the Avatar, imbued with the spirit of order, has fought back against the chaos to try to restore balance to the world.

Korra wakes up and panics. They have to stop Unalaq who is trying to free Vaatu, probably because he wants to destroy the world or something. But when she next has a chance to confront Unalaq, he’s like, not you stupid girl. I’m not trying to destroy the world; I’m trying to save it. Wan was right to side with order, but wrong to think he could stop chaos by teaming up with Raava and destroying it from without. No chaos is inside all of us, the evil infesting every human heart (Unalaq’s words, not mine) and it can only be dominated through one’s own strong force of will and conviction. So his plan is to fuse with Vaatu and then dominate her, destroy her chaos and using her power to allow him to bring his order across all of existence, both in the physical and spirit worlds. Korra’s not too keen on that plan either. She’s still going to stop him.

Korra fails to stop him. Harmonic Convergence begins, Vaatu is freed, she goes inside of Unalaq, and she immediately subsumes him. Turns out you can’t eliminate all the chaos in the world just by willpower, you absolute looney toon. Vaatu explains that even as Unalaq was planning to use her, she was using him to get free and now is going to use him as a meat puppet to help her fight Raava & the Avatar.

So, they fight, and for a bit it’s evenly matched, then Vaatu gains the upper hand. Just as Vaatu appears she’s about to deal the finishing blow, Unalaq briefly regains control and interrupts her – to be clear, he manages this because of his desperate need for order and control, not out of any affection for Korra. While he’s in control he says something in defiance of Vaatu that coming from Unalaq we can hear is clearly some fascist bullshit, but also echoes something that Wan/Raava said back in their battle with Vaatu. And Korra’s like, wait, hold up a second.

Lightbulb turns on for Korra at that moment, and by the time Vaatu has resecure control, Korra has dropped her offensive stance. She tells Vaatu she doesn’t want to fight her; she wants her to fuse with her and Raava. Neither Vaatu nor Raava like this idea. Korra has to go on the defensive holding off Vaatu’s attacks, and has to internally fight against Raava wanting to attack Vaatu all while trying to sell them both on this idea. She explains that too much chaos has been bad for the world, but too much order would be bad too – case in point, Unalaq. Both chaos and order, both Raava and Vaatu are needed for balance. And yeah, they can achieve balance by constantly fighting each other, with every encounter ending as a draw, or they could achieve balance through harmony together. Because even as they are opposites, they are one and the same, a part of a greater whole. A bunch of stuff to that effect, including mentions of the Northern Water Tribe upsetting the balance by trying to dominate the Southern Water Tribe, and also a shout out to Tui and La in there somewhere, the original Yin/Yang Avatar couple. Eventually Korra convinces them, she fuses with Vaatu, and Harmonic Convergence ends in a tie, returning the world to balance once again.

And of course, now that balance has been achieved, Korra leaves the spirit portals open. Remember in this version spirits and humans got along fine, and the separation was only necessary because the world had fallen out of balance. And yes, the rejoining of the physical and spirit worlds was probably something Unalaq wanted too, but we’re not giving him credit for it, because for every good idea a fascist ever had, there’s someone else who isn’t a fascist who had the same idea, but better, because it wasn’t coming from a fascist.

#the legend of korra #atlok #unalaq #raava #vaatu #long post

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

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A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 3, 3387 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for

Read on AO3

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Keyleth was right about the trail. She’s the only one that really takes it.

It’s a month into Vex’s stay in Whitestone when she bumps into the red-haired half-elf again.

It’s a late morning with a pale winter sun, the kind that doesn’t really warm you in any way. Vex hasn’t had to take off her coat through the exertion of work in a couple of days. The cub plays in a pen she’s hammered into the side of the path when she got there.

She’s a couple of miles into the trail now and it’s getting harder by the day. The further away from civilisation, the more tangled the branches and roots are. She doesn’t easily fall to the ground but even her sure footing fails her regularly.

The trail now snakes along the mountainous platform Castle Whitestone sits on. A thin layer of bushes provides a buffer between the path and the rock, thicker in patches where certain harsher varieties grow. There’s some berry bushes in there, thorny but with delicious fruit that will make Vex’ delight in summer.

She decides to stop for a bit of lunch, gives the cub some milk and solid food. She’s trying to wean him off, regularly asking advice to her old mentors. Once she’s done taking care of him, she sits down on a bigger rock and starts to eat her sandwich of brown bread, cured meats and cheese, with dried fruit on the side. She’s completely out of spices and Vax won’t be there for a week at least.

It’s all a little drab. Despite the pale sun, she can feel the rain coming, and she doubts she’ll be able to spend most of the afternoon working here. She’ll have to pack up and start the hike back down to the edge of the path, for almost two hours.

She stretches out once she’s done eating, closing her eyes and letting herself dig. She settles her feet into the ground, straightens her spine and digs herself into the forest.

Her consciousness expands, past her skull, through her entire body until she’s one with her mind. And then it pushes past her physical form. Through every pore, through her feet’s connection to the ground, she breathes her mind out and lets it tangle with the forest.

It’s a strange sort of feeling. Vex stops breathing for a second as she sinks into the sensation of letting her mind run free. It’s primal. She remembers being taught this strange instinctive ability by other rangers, being taught to let herself be. Let her nature breathe out.

She stops floating after a moment though and focuses on what she’s doing this for. She’s searching for an enemy.

More specifically, she’s searching for a fey. A part of her doesn’t believe she’s truly alone and free of Saundor’s influence, so she searches. She doesn’t find any fey, nothing in the six mile radius her consciousness stretches in. What she finds however is a fiend.

She can’t tell exactly where it is, her powers aren’t that specific, but she knows it’s there. It’s in her radius, in her home, in the place she’s sworn to protect.

The trance ends and she snaps back into her body like a stretched-out rubber hand. She shudders violently, her eyes adjusting to her surroundings. She’s forgotten her own name for a second there.

The fiend’s presence leaves an ashy aftertaste in her mouth. She’ll need to go and talk to a priest about this. She has no idea what the creature’s power is, but she’d rather have some divine magic by her side if she has to root it out.

As she packs her things to get back to work, she hears something. A light footstep, to her right, coming from the south.

Vex’s hand flies to her bow. Lightning-fast, she notches in an arrow and draws it back, focusing on her target.

A half-elf with red hair, tan skin and green eyes. Her hands are up, she has a sheepish smile on her face. Keyleth.

Vex exhales. She doesn’t lower her guard, because Keyleth could still be the fiend, but she relaxes somewhat.

“You startled me,” she says in explanation, but not apology, for the arrow pointed at her.

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth replies, her hands still up even if Vex has lowered her bow. “I wasn’t expecting someone there either.”

Her eyes dart over to the rock formation for a second.

“I’m making sure this trail is secure,” Vex explains. “You can probably handle yourself, but unmarked paths like this one are just begging for idiots to climb up and get themselves injured. And then I have to deal with it,” she mutters. “And it’s a major liability.”

“I get it,” Keyleth hums. Her right hand settles on the rock.

She seems anxious despite her relaxed demeanor. It may simply be a façade. Her eyes dart to the stone right behind Vex, or up to the castle regularly, as if checking if something is still there. She’s much more nervous, almost hostile towards Vex than the first time they met. Something’s wrong.

“I was wondering,” Vex starts again, and green eyes snap back to her. “I did some… energy checks around here earlier and something was wrong. I felt a-”

“There are many wrong things in the Parchwood Timberlands,” Keyleth snaps, cutting Vex off. “Undead sometimes, some elementals too. Comes with the territory. A lot of magical energy here.”

She’s trying to distract Vex’ attention. She’s lying to her, it’s almost too obvious. The red-head is not good at deception and it immediately pings Vex’ radar. Her eyes are darting back to the stone almost in panic now, her arm not holding her staff is stiff to her side with the fist closed.

“I’m not talking about those,” Vex coldly points out. “I felt a fiend. A couple undead or werewolves or elementals I can deal with, and was warned about when I took my post. But not fiends.”

Keyleth is stiff as a board now. “I… I don’t know. I don’t come here often, and I only come on this trail. I can’t help you,” she mumbles under her breath.

She’s still lying. Vex feels the rise of anger in her throat, anger at this girl who is not letting her do her job correctly.

“Listen, I don’t know why you’re lying to me but this is dangerous. I don’t know what your business with this situation is, but whatever you’re protecting, it’s gonna kill people. That’s what fiends do. They’re evil.”

Keyleth shifts, her grasp on her staff white-knuckled. “I’m not protecting anything,” she answers tightly. “I can’t help you. I’m a druid, and a weak one at that. I can’t help anyone.”

Now there is a light tone of despair in her voice and Vex can feel the guilt coming off of the young woman in waves. She sighs deeply. She hopes this one’s problem won’t be something she bumps into in the dark of the forest.

“Fine,” Vex huffs. “Do whatever you were here to do. I’ll go get the local priest of Pelor for help with that creature anyway. We need divine power to combat fiends.”

Keyleth shifts again, staring at Vex with a strange intensity. She’s maybe not as hesitant as before. There is something stronger and harder about her. Vex wonders why she would be protecting a fiend.

Evil has many faces, and maybe Keyleth was seduced by one of those. Vex couldn’t blame her if she was. She’d made that mistake before. She just wished she could save Keyleth from this.

“I… Sorry for bothering,” Keyleth mutters before she starts walking northward, to the part of the trail Vex has yet to work.

“Good luck,” Vex replies similarly as she watches the druid walk away. She seems to relax as she moves away from Vex. Well.

She screwed that one up. Keyleth could have been an ally, but her… nervousness around the topic of the fiend didn’t make her seem trustworthy.

Vex sighs heavily, closing her eyes a little. This city is much more of a mess than expected, and now she really will have to go to that Temple of Pelor and see if there’s a priest that can help her root out the fiend.

Maybe that can be her late afternoon trip, she realizes. She’s made enough headway for today, and she has no desire to stick around to see Keyleth again once she walks back down the trail in a couple of hours, hopefully satisfied with her hike.

Now that she thinks of it, coming to one specific trail once a month or once every couple of months and never any other is a strange habit. What is Keyleth finding up that trail? Is there a hideout that Vex will walk in? She should have asked her that, fuck. If that druid knows all about this trail, Vex needs to know too. She has no desire to find herself falling into a trap because she didn’t ask the person who knew.

She packs up her things and gets the cub back from his pen, before starting the long walk back down to her truck. It takes her about two hours, and she makes sure to drive home and leave the animal there before she heads into town.

Whitestone looks beautiful in the winter light, she has to admit that. It’s like the city is made to exist in this weather. She hasn’t spent enough time here to gauge if this is the average weather or not.

The high walls are almost blindingly light as she drives on the driveway surrounding the city, from the west side where she came out of the woods to the eastern side, where the cemetery and some of the temples are.

She’s done a little research and talked to some people. The Dawnfather is the main deity of the city and has been the patron of Whitestone and its ruling family, the De Rolos, since they arrived from Wildemount. Some stories say that the Parchwood Timberlands were created by the conflict between Pelor, the Dawnfather and Tharizdun, the Chained Oblivion, during the Calamity.

Stories of divine battles mark the entirety of Exandria. Fallen giants make for mountains and greatswords fit for deities are considered responsible for rivers or valleys opening into land. The supposed origin of the Parchwood Timberlands is not the only story of this kind. The place she used to call home, Syngorn, is situated in the middle of a forest known for growing from the ley energy left behind after the Divergence.

Vex has never been the most faithful. Her mother worshipped in that way that many do, partially and because of tradition and habit more than motivated by faith. When she and Vax left her for Syngorn, they found a city where the Elders’s very parents had been betrayed by the Arch Heart and left behind in the time of the Calamity. Though some had forgiven the deity and seen it as a gift, as it allowed them to become a people of the Feywild, some still held a grudge.

She guesses she took in the grudge part more than the forgiveness part.

The influence of the Dawnfather runs deep in Whitestone, from what she’s read. The Sun Tree towering in the center of the city, also represented on the city’s crest, was supposedly given by him. The Dawnfather’s temple, the Zenith, is a major place of worship, with the Lady’s Chamber. And it’s exactly what she needs.

Vex parks in the lot by the walled-up enclave of temples and cemetery. The Zenith leans against the Southern wall, towering over it. The Eastern gate is right in front of it, allowing a view of the tall wooden doors.

She steps into the yard in front of the temple and swallows. The door seems closed, but she doubts it actually is. She doesn’t know any reason why the temple would be closed today. Every house of worship of Pelor she’s seen before has been opened every day and night.

The doors are beautiful, dark wood carved with wreaths and sun rays, flames licking up the sides of it.

There isn’t anyone outside, the yard quiet and empty. As she walks across the grass, she tracks more mud than green. Vex sighs before she uses the thick iron knocker on the door. It used to be painted in gold, it seems. There’s still chips of paint in some untouched corners.

Her knock seems to echo a little inside but there is no immediate response. She waits there, wind slashing stray strands of hair into her face and sipping through her thick winter coat. From the corner of her eye, she notices that a part of the western wall of the temple is being rebuilt. She can’t imagine the cold in there.

She’s about to go and look closer at the fallen stones of the wall when something slides behind the doors. Bars probably, heavy iron locks opening. Within a few seconds, a smaller door opens in the massive right one.

Behind the panel is a human, with salt and pepper hair and a matching beard. They wear cream robes with red and gold embroideries and detailing representing suns and shields, with a golden sash wrapped around the waist. Vex can’t see exactly but they seem to be wearing several thick layers of fabric. Something about them is familiar, as if she’s seen them before.

“Sun’s Greeting, what can I do for you?” They say in a low, soft voice that must sound beautiful in a song.

Vex smiles. “Sun’s Greeting to you,” she responds. “I’m the new ranger of the Alabaster Sierras park, and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to discuss something I’ve sensed.”

They nod, something shifting in their eyes, though Vex cannot tell what.

“Vex’ahlia Vessar, right?” they ask. “I’ve heard about you.” They’re still smiling at her, but Vex feels frozen in place.

She hasn’t told anyone her last name yet. She’s been very careful not to. Many people and tribes do not use last names, and it is not uncommon enough to raise suspicion. The fact this person she has never met before knows a name they shouldn’t know is terrifying. She would drop into her trance and search for fey if she wasn’t in the middle of a conversation.

“Just… Just Vex’ahlia,” she replies, her voice wavering frustratingly.

“Father Reynal,” he introduces himself. “The current head of worship of the Zenith. Please, come in.”

He takes a step back to let her walk into the temple. Vex’s eyes stare at the mark of the door on the stone of the floor, but her legs walk her in automatically.

It’s almost as cold inside as it is outside, despite the large roaring fireplace behind the altar, across the room from the door. Candles are lit as the pale sun struggles to shine through the tall stained glass windows on the walls. There’s three on each of the longest walls.

Her muddy boots dirty the red carpet, but the priest doesn’t seem to pay that any mind. He’s looking right at her. Vex swallows. The door closes behind her, leaving her in the low-lit empty church.

The wall to her right is partially fallen, covered by large blankets suspended from the ceiling and attached to below the holes, to try and provide cover from the elements. It’s not working well.

Something has happened here, Vex can’t shake that feeling. The fallen walls and chipped paints and that thing about the De Rolos that the owner of the Alcove was so reluctant to talk about. Something terrible happened in this city, it hangs from the walls and through the air like ash after a catastrophic fire. It makes Vex want to cough it out, even if she knows it’s not really there.

The priest starts walking deeper in. He’s limping quite heavily. Vex follows him, dread coiling in her stomach. This is not the sunrise of divine positive energy she’s expected.

“What can I help you with? What have you sensed?” Father Reynal asks and Vex manages to make her brain start again.

“I sensed a fiend. In a six-mile radius from the stone platform on which the castle sits,” she explains. “I’ve dealt with fiends a couple of times, but not knowing what this one’s power is, I was hoping to gather some divine help.”

The priest raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m afraid a couple hours of hiking up the mountains is out of my current capacities,” he replies. His voice is much heavier, much more haunted. “That’s all you felt, right? A fiend, somewhere in that area. No specifics?”

Vex shakes her head. “My training only offers rather… general information,” she sighs. “That’s all I can give you.”

“I don’t think I can help you in any way,” he looks rather saddened by the fact.

“Maybe there is another member of your house of worship that would be up for some fiend hunt in the woods?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

Father Reynal huffs lightly. “I’m the only one here,” he says. “The only one taking care of this temple. If I can’t help you, no acolyte of Pelor can, in Whitestone.”

Vex looks around the temple. The pews wear a layer of dust she hadn’t noticed originally. A gust of wind slips under the blanket trying desperately to keep it out. The candles’ lights tremble. It’s desolate. Father Reynal looks more tired and older like this, shadows digging in his face.

“I thought the Dawnfather was the most worshipped deity of the city,” she whispers.

The priest chuckles humorlessly. “He’s still worshipped alright, but the people don’t find the time or energy to come to the temple anymore. They haven’t in years.”

A lot of her information is wrong. Way too much for her comfort, actually. Not only did she not know the de Rolos were all dead, but now this too? The nagging feeling of dread tightens in her chest again.

“I’m sorry,” she swallows.

Father Reynal sighs. “Whitestone hasn’t been the Dawnfather’s beloved city for a very long time, but it has only recently become this visible. We should have known something was wrong a long time ago but we were all blind.”

The state of the city, the thing that happened, are weighing on this man something awful. Vex swallows.

“Do you know of anyone who could help me? I think the fiend is powerful enough for mind control.” She then starts recounting her encounter with Keyleth, who the half-elf is and why she’s worried about her, with the priest watching her intently. When she’s done, she looks at him honestly, earnestly. “I really need some help in this matter. A life may be at stake.”

“I know the druid you’re talking about,” Father Reynal nods. “But I wouldn’t worry. She has a strong mind, and she knows the path well. She’s not enthralled. I would be aware.”

That feels final. He’s shutting her out of that topic, shoving her worries away. He probably knows better than her about fiends and enthrallment but Vex can’t shake the stress in her bones. Maybe it’s only her own experience with Saundor, maybe she’s projecting it all on Keyleth and that fiend…

“Unless you have something else to ask…” the priest points out. “I will see you out. Things need to be done here, work.”

He coaxes Vex back to the door and opens it. She’s being shut out of something, again. It’s what comes with being a stranger to Whitestone, but she’s here to take care of people and nature alike, not to hurt anyone. Why won’t they tell her things she needs to know?

“I understand,” she says between gritted teeth as she steps back through the door.

Right as the man is about to close the door back on her, he stops. His eyes land on her again, heavy and sad.

“Maybe go ask in town. The Lady’s Chamber might know if there are good clerics in town,” Father Reynal advises. “And the tavern is always a good place to ask.”

And with that, the thick carved wood slams in Vex’ face.

#perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #fic #critical role #vox machina #mine #vaxleth #vaxilmore

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