#but then i remembered that the book goes at speed of light

[wavypotatochips]

i have something in my mind

could you write kylian having an important meeting but readers at home and she’s sick and she calls kylian but he doesn’t answer and when he comes home he sees her like she fainted or she’s very sick?i need some comfort kylian , 😊 thank you

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 1k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: Ugh I love 'comfort someone who is sick' scenarios, they are always so cute to me (': Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like how I conveyed your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Request are temporarily unavailable, ILY mwah mwah ♥

You're lying in bed, feeling absolutely terrible. Your head is pounding, your nose is stuffy, and your body feels like it's on fire. You know you need more medicine to help with your fever, so you grab your phone to text your boyfriend, Kylian.

You type out a message asking him to bring you more medicine. You wait anxiously for a response, but none comes.

You start to feel frustrated and helpless. You're in so much pain, and you need his help, but you don't want to seem too needy as well. You try to distract yourself by watching TV or reading a book, but you can't focus on anything.

As time passes, you start to feel worse. You're so uncomfortable, and the pain seems to be getting worse. You decide to try texting Kylian again, hoping that he's finished with whatever he is doing and can come to your rescue.

But once again, there's no response. You feel like you're in agony, and you don't know what to do. You start to worry that something might be seriously wrong with you. You try to call Kylian, but his phone goes straight to voicemail.

You're feeling so alone and helpless, and it's making you even more anxious. You wish that you had someone to take care of you, but you know that Kylian is a very busy man and you don't want to bother him.

Meanwhile, Kylian is in a very important meeting with Nike, discussing a collaboration that could potentially skyrocket his career to new heights. The room is filled with executives, all intently focused on the discussion, their eyes trained on Kylian as he presents his ideas and strategies that he has been meticulously working on for months. He is confident and articulate, impressing everyone in the room with his creativity and expertise.

As the meeting reaches its final stages, Kylian's phone vibrates loudly on the table, interrupting the otherwise silent atmosphere. His phone is upside down, so he cannot see who is blowing up his notifications. He lets out a small laugh in front of the executives and reaches for his phone, apologizing for the interruption, and quickly silencing it.

As the meeting comes to an end, Kylian turns on his phone while walking back to the car. The notifications are coming in slowly since the phone has restarted, but he sees there are multiple missed calls and messages from you. He tries to call you back, but there is no answer. He feels a growing sense of concern, wondering what could be wrong. Kylian calls again, but there is still no answer. He starts to worry that something might be seriously wrong now and quickly gets into the car, practically speeding to the house you two share.

As Kylian drives, his mind races with all the possibilities of what could be wrong. He remembers that you mentioned feeling a bit under the weather starting last night,, but he didn't think it was anything serious. Now, he starts to wonder if he should have taken your symptoms more seriously. Before turning into the neighborhood, he is stopped by a red light, causing him to groan in frustration. He picks up his phone and goes to the messages, finally seeing all the messages you sent hours ago. He feels terrible for not being there for you.

Once the light turns green, Kylian quickly stops at a local CVS to pick up medication. Luckily, it is nighttime, and there are not many people out, so he is able to use the self-checkout without any delay. As he rushes home, Kylian's mind is filled with worry and guilt. He hopes that he can make it up to you and provide the care and attention that you deserve.

Kylian's heart pounds in his chest as he frantically searches for you, his mind racing with worry. When he finally spots you in the living room, his heart sinks at the sight of your weakened state. You look so pale and fragile, as if a gentle breeze could knock you over. He rushes to your side, setting down the medication and taking a seat beside you. He gently places his hand on your forehead, feeling the heat radiating from your body, realizing that you have a fever. Kylian's heart aches at the sight of you in this condition.

You let out a soft groan as Kylian's hand brushes your forehead, sending sharp waves of pain through your head. You slowly open your eyes, feeling Kylian's concerned gaze on you. You try to speak, but he quickly silences you with a gentle shake of his head, "I'm so sorry, my love. Stay still and let me take care of you now." He leans down to kiss your forehead lightly, being sure not to cause any unnecessary movement.

Kylian's sole focus for the next few hours is taking care of you. He knows that you haven't eaten all day, and so he prepares some porridge for you. He carefully places a small amount in a cup and brings it over to you, helping you sit up so that you can eat. He even adds your medication to the porridge, knowing that it will be easier for you to take. You are extremely nauseous, but Kylian remains calm, reassuring you and helping you take the medicine.

Once you've finished eating and taking your medication, Kylian scoops you up gently in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He places you softly on the bed, making sure that you are comfortable and have everything you need. Throughout the night, Kylian remains by your side, checking your temperature, bringing you water, and comforting you with soothing words. He feels guilty that he wasn't there for you earlier, but he is determined to make up for it by being the best partner possible.

Eventually, the medication starts to take effect, and your fever begins to subside. You drift off to sleep, with Kylian sitting beside you, holding your hand, feeling grateful that he can be there for you when you need him the most. As the night wears on, Kylian's focus remains solely on you, forgetting about his work responsibilities and everything else. His only concern is your well-being, and he is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you recover quickly.

#kylian mbappe #football fanfic #soccer imagine #football imagine #female reader #footballer x reader #x reader #soccer x reader #psg imagines #kylian imagines #mbappe #kylian fanfic #kyky #kylian mbappe icons #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian x reader #mbappe fanfiction #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe one shot #mbappe fanfic #mbappe icons #mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x female reader #kylian x you

[sleepy-autumns-world]

Doll Face ♡

Dean Winchester x Fem!reader (Romantic), Sam Winchester x Fem!reader (platonic) [overall sfw]

Author's note: My very first fanfic I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff!!!!, Blood, Being tied up, general warning for supernatural

Synopsis: While on hunt with the boys, you get kidnapped by a skinwalker that then steals your identity. Takes place in season 1

Words: 1595

--------------------------------------------------

Dean was roused from his light sleep as the phone on the wall of the dingey motel began ringing, they were in a rural town in search of some kind of beast. Dean walked over half-asleep, and picked the phone off the dock. It was Sam, he sounded…panicked. He was talking fast and breathing faster he was rambling about something, he was talking so fast that Dean could barely make out his words. “Sammy, slow down! What’s going on?” Dean said to his brother over the landline. “Sorry, sorry.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “Y/N and I went to ask the police for the reports about the recent attacks, then the power cut and three out of five of the police officers were lying on the floor dead with their entrails laid about. We got the surviving officers out of there. Y/N is fine but she seems…off, not anything i’ve ever seen on her. She won’t talk and she has…this strange blank expression. I'm not sure what kind of creature we’re dealing with, but I'm worried.” Sam explained the situation to the best of his abilities through his panic.

***

You wake up a few hours later, you can’t move and you don’t know where you are. The air smells damp and musty, the place is dimly lit. Wherever you are, it definitely has something to do with this creature you’re after. You try to break your wrists free but as you try to break the rope you feel a sharp pain shoot down your spine and the waking world starts to fade. You fight but your struggle only lasts for a few seconds. The last thing you hear before you black out is a malicious laugh.

***

Sam speeds back to the motel with ‘you’. -You didn’t say anything the entire drive, you always have something strange on your mind and aren’t afraid to make it known. It was one of the many things Sam loved about you, so it was unusual and worrying, just how quiet you were. On top of your silence, you didn’t even look at him, not to mention you had a devilish smirk as you looked out the window supposedly lost in thought- He gets out and you silently follow behind him. The two of you walk into the room to see Dean sitting at the desk with a bunch of books. “You figure out what we’re dealing with yet Dean?” Sam looked over to Dean who gestured for him to talk with him, alone. You stood by the window watching the rain fall, lost in thought with that same odd smirk. Sam and Dean slip into the other room and Sam notices Dean’s serious and concerned expression. “Sam, I know what we’re dealing with and I know why she’s acting strange…” Dean stared back at you. He resumed “I think we’re dealing with a skinwalker. And I…I think it took Y/N and disguised itself as her” Sam’s eyes widened, it was all clicking in his mind. If Dean was right, then they needed to find you and fast.

***

You slowly came to, your mind was fuzzy and your head was throbbing. You didn’t sense anyone…or anything nearby. You breathe a sigh of relief, as you do so, a wave of pain spreads through your chest. As a matter of fact, breathing itself was agony but you need to get out of here and find Dean and Sam. You wrack your foggy brain, trying to remember anything before you passed out earlier. Wait, that laugh I heard, it…it sounded like my voice… Suddenly, everything made sense, that thing was a skinwalker and it was wearing your form. What if it goes after Sam or Dean? You have to get out of here. You strategically move your wrists in an attempt to break them free. After a few minutes, your hands are free. You quickly untie your legs and stand up. Perhaps a little too quickly, your vision clouds and you breathe heavily causing even more pain in your chest. You lean onto the wall for support, after a few minutes, you collect your bearings and start looking for an exit.

***

Dean moves toward the skinwalker wearing your form in the other room. Sam has a face riddled with shock, he’s worried Dean’s about to do something stupid and get himself hurt. The creature turns to face him with a maniacal smile. “We know you’re not her, Where is she?!” Dean raised his voice at the creature. It smiled only wider before lunging at Dean, pinning him to the ground. Sam attempts to wrestle it off of his brother, who is currently swearing like a sailor. After a quick tussle, Sam has it pinned and Dean is shooting it daggers. “If you don't want a silver bullet to the heart, i’d suggest telling me where you took her” Dean’s voice was low and threatening. Sam was slightly caught off-guard, it wasn’t often Dean used that tone. The skinwalker narrowed its eyes and smiled wider. Dean caressed his gun before pointing it directly at the skinwalker’s chest. “Last chance buddy” his voice was slightly shaky. He didn’t want to shoot you even if it was just some monster pretending to be you, afterall you are his girl. It whimpered before speaking “Fine! Fine. She’s in the abandoned Auto shop down the road. Please, just don’t shoot” Dean looked down at it with a stoic expression before pulling the trigger. The creature screamed and melted away, its blood seeping into the carpet. Dean quickly grabs the keys to his baby and gestures to Sam to stop staring at the E.T. looking corpse and follow him.

***

You walk through the damp hallways. The smell of mold is so strong it makes you dizzy but you carry on. Every breath sends jolts of pain through your body, you’re beginning to suspect you may have a few broken ribs but that’s not important right now. All of a sudden your vision clouds and you collapse against the wall. Perhaps your condition is worse than you originally thought…

***

Dean drove to the abandoned auto shop, hoping that the damned thing wasn’t lying. Dean parks the impala and both of them step out. Sam goes over to the trunk to get some weapons just in case there’s more than one, as Dean tries to pick the lock on the front door. Sam walks over to Dean with silver bullets and silver daggers. Dean got frustrated with the lock so he instead took the unconventional route of just kicking it down. They quickly run through the halls in opposite directions calling your name. Sam spots you unconscious and slumped by the wall. He picks you up and starts walking in the direction Dean went. “Dean, I found her!” He called down the hall. “Thank the lord. I'm coming” Dean says relieved before walking out with Sam following behind with you in his arms. Dean unlocks the impala and Sam gently sets you in the backseat. Dean drives back to the motel, softly humming Metallica the entire way back. Dean parks and gets out. Sam walks over to your door and carefully picks you up out of the impala and follows his brother back to the motel room. Dean waits for him to catch up and takes you from Sam while shooting a dirty look. Sam puts his hands up, smiling and stifling a laugh. Dean rolls his eyes and walks into the motel room. He sets you down on his bed. You open your eyes slightly, after a few minutes. You hear Dean’s voice “You awake babydoll?” You nod. “Ol’ Sammy’s in the shower” He smiled before sitting down on the bed, next to you. “How ya feeling? And I swear if you say fine, I will back hand you woman” He glares at you, he knows you a little too well. “I-it hurts t-to breathe” your voice comes out slightly louder than a whisper but sounds more like a wheeze. He looks concerned “You think you might’ve broken a rib?” you nod. He takes your flannel off and lifts up your shirt. He gently presses on your black and blue rib cage. You wince and try to hold back cries of pain. He lets go and looks you in the eyes. “Well baby girl, I think you’ve got at least two broken ribs. Not much I can do ‘bout that. You’re just gonna have to wait it out. When Sammy comes out I'll get you some ice from the lobby, but for now I'll give ya some pain killers” He smiles and brushes some hair out of your face. “When you’re feeling better you can shower and get that blood off ya” You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep. You buried your face into his chest, knocking him back slightly. He laid back and put his hand on the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair. You listened to his heartbeat for about five minutes before falling asleep on his chest. Sam came out of the shower and witnessed the sight of his brother trapped under you. It was cat rules, if the Y/N was on you, you are now trapped until she moves. Sam stifled a laugh and Dean Shot him a dirty look. He loved when you laid on him. He fell asleep with you in his arms about 15 minutes later. Sam giggled and took out his phone, taking a picture. “Adorable”

The End

#dean winchester #dean x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #fanfic #writing

[loquaciousquark]

My dog is getting old. This has happened to everyone in the history of the world who has ever loved a dog.

It's my turn, horologically speaking, to watch age catch up to him. I keep trying on the grief to see how it fits. Today I'm more sanguine; today I'm remembering the good days and the good years. The lump in the throat still hurts.

It's hard for him to stand up now on the bad days. Especially in the evenings, especially when a few hours ago he'd flung himself wall to wall with joy when I got home from work; and especially first thing in the morning when he wakes stiff as a board in the hips. On the good days he can still take the four stairs up to the living room in one light-speed jump when he's on a tear, though he trusts the kitchen linoleum much less than he used to. Today's a bad day. Yesterday was worse.

There's a faint discolored patch on my quilt where he sleeps. Right side, foot. It took half a decade to show up, and every few months I give it an extra soak in a bleach-filled bathtub. It still never really goes away; besides, he puts it right back on. Not tonight, though. Tonight he sleeps in the front room, because the stairs up to me are too hard. He watched me go up tonight without him and his tail drooped so low it touched the floor. He's only been mine eight of his eleven years, but I was there when he came home the first time, when he was exactly eight weeks old. I held him up in one hand like a waiter's tray and it was easy. He's ninety pounds now and I can't help him much at all.

German Shepherds are prone to hip dysplasia. Half-breed, half-hipped, I'd hoped, but on the bad nights he struggles to get up on those back legs like he's heaving ballast off a sinking ship. The husky part of him just seems to make him shed and yell, especially when I'm late getting home. I'd hoped for a little more time from the mix, maybe. But maybe not.

He's finally gotten used to fireworks. Thunder's mostly all right now, unless it's very bad. The washing machine is a new terror; sometimes I forget until it goes into the spin cycle and he lifts my legs off the ground trying to crawl under me. He eats books when he's anxious, when I've committed the temerarious crime of coming home and leaving again in the same day. Cold Mountain is nothing more than shredded cardboard and a few strung-together chapters, a sacrificial lamb to preserve Catherine, Called Birdy and Holes. The Private Patient died years ago.

He didn't want to come indoors tonight. The dryer was going, almost as bad as the washing machine, and there were stairs between him and bed. He let me coax him in at last, because I can't lift him and can't push him, and he made it clear that when he stiff-leg trotted inside he did so because he loved me, not because he wanted to. I sat with him while he found an acceptable patch of rug in the front room; I cooed and petted him and gave him a treat he didn't earn. He still whined when I left and looked like he wanted to get up, but didn't think he could make it.

He's getting old; it's his turn. His muzzle is turning white and his eyes have gone cloudy with cataracts. 2+ nuclear sclerosis, maybe -- probably all a little blurry, that's all. No PSCs, no cortical spoking; central vision's honestly probably fine. The vet keeps saying dogs adapt well. He can certainly see the stray cat who keeps lurking on my front porch. I'd like them to be friends, but a week ago he got out and chased her off like a bullet from a gun. His hips were good that day, and adrenaline covers a multitude of sins.

I have a picture of the first time we took him to get a Christmas tree. He's sitting and looking up and his head isn't even high to my knee. I remember watching him tear around the dog park lap after lap after lap, the single mixed greyhound out of fifteen or twenty dogs the only one who could keep up with him. I have pictures of him at the end of nearly every lecture I give; lately I've been tripping over them like rocks, stony little griefs worked loose from a streambed when the water moves too fast.

I'm thirty-five years old. I keep thinking that every dog who was alive on the planet when I was born is dead. Most are long dead. My dog has meds to help, which is comforting. I have a vet who will help me put him to sleep in my home, his home, when the time comes. Two to four years, she guesses, maybe, if he doesn't get cancer. When I watch him struggle to stand up I wonder if that's not too long for kindness.

It's a very human thing to miss someone before they die. Dogs don't do that. They live in an endless now, like a kid in a yellow summer. Now, I love you. Now, it hurts -- now it stops. Now, I love you.

I want that for us for what's left, for whatever one two three four years we have. When it happens, I want him to die in no pain, looking at me holding him where all his toys are, his favorite rope, his purple pig, his leash, his tennis balls. I want him thinking nothing but Now, I'm tired; now, I'm happy.

The empty place at the foot of the bed hurts tonight. The grief stings and bites, worse because I know I'm borrowing it ahead of time, because he's asleep fifteen feet below me, warm and full, even if tonight's a bad night and the stairs are too hard. I have to sit in it, though, just for a few minutes. Try it on for size. It's his turn, I keep thinking, and mine. Everyone who has ever loved a dog has done this before me. Now, I love you. Now, I miss you. Now, it hurts.

#hamlet #pet death for tw #or at least #the consideration of it #i started this sanguine but did not finish it that way

[hell-drabbles]

Mammon 2

Summary: The amount of meat on Mammon’s thighs had you curious. Mammon is just happy–and a little frustrated–at your attention on them.

(Mammon has some meaty thighs huh?)

“Huh,” you shrugged your shoulders to ease the oncoming soreness in them, “you don’t have stretch marks.”

Your fingers poked and prodded the place where his thighs curve into his hips. His robe was fully open, undone by Mammon himself in rather enthusiastic anticipation, but his upper body wasn’t really of interest to you right now. It’s his legs that grabbed your attention.

Mammon’s a pretty big man in both stature and sheer presence. Around him, you’ve seen demons either look him square in the eye or have their heads tilted down so low you think they can’t even see his toes. Either way, rarely is attention drawn to anything below his crotch. It can’t be helped, the flare of his chest, especially when compared to his thin waist, compels the eye to look at it.

“Do you want me to have them?” Mammon breathed out, tapping his knees against the sides of your neck for your attention, “You sound disappointed.”

“No, it’s not quite disappointment,” there was plenty of fat over his muscles, so you couldn’t help but give his inner thigh a light pinch. Mammon twitched and opened his legs wider. No underwear. Huh. “It’s just a little weird to me. Something I need to adjust to. I looked at all kinds of bodies just to see the little details in them for my books, so it’s weird to me to see someone of your size not have stretch marks on the soft parts.”

None on the stomach, none under his arms, or his back or neck. Not even on his inner thighs. Weird. Well, he is a devil but you’re pretty sure that even devils are subject to the side effects of puberty.

“So is it too weird for you to continue?” Mammon shrugged off the rest of his robe before sitting up, “I can fix that up real quick, if you want.”

“Get back on your back,” your tone went from simple musing to a solid command.

Mammon smiled with a shiver and rested his form on the poor creaking bed. He kept his mouth shut, not attempting to goad you as he knew he didn’t need to. Really, you appreciate his patience and ease.

Then, you remembered the things you bought the other day.

“Hold on a moment,” you pushed Mammon’s legs away and speed walked to your closet. You dug into a plastic bag and pulled out a simple pair of black thigh high socks with the most delicate white lace you have ever seen. “Look what I got you. I saw these in your size and I had to get them.”

“So, I am on your mind as much as you are in mine,” the way he crossed his arms under his head kind of irritated you. There he goes with his ego. He’s wanting a change in pace. He’s probably growing impatient then.

This quickly though? Ah, well, your fingers have been skimming over the dip where his thighs meet his ass.

“Isn’t it only natural to want to dress up my belongings?” You settled between his legs once more and started pulling the socks on him. “Can’t very well neglect you.”

Mammon didn’t resist. He even helped pull them up higher until they squished quite nicely against him. Honestly, you didn’t know if they would fit him or not. You half expected them to rip somewhere on the way up, but no. They’re holding up very well. The fabric gets more and more transparent as the sheer mass of his thighs spreads them thin. The lace pinches the flesh in such a way that it seems as though he’s overflowing from them.

You couldn’t help but touch where the socks end and where his thighs start. It’s a very interesting curve.

“Yup, this looks nice,” you nodded, entirely ignoring his shivering waist and jutting hips.

You gave a good smack to the side of his ass and watched as he nearly ripped the pillow under his head. A broken moan escaped his throat.

“Caught you off guard, huh?” You laughed.

Cute. Oh so cute. You’re going to drag this out for as long as possible. That is your right as his owner.

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad #hell-drabbles #drabble #tartaros #mammon #reader insert #writer au

[sweet-honey-tears]

Sugar Doesn't Rot

. Shinso x GN!Reader

Reader is kidnapped and Shinso saves them

Hello! This was a request from one of you beautiful people! I hope you like it 💫

Warning: Mention of blood, bruises

Anyone who didn't know you would probably be concerned about how much sugar you ingested. Hell, Shinso once saw you open three sugar packets and pour them straight into your mouth, watching how your body shivered in likely disgust. It was like a daily vitamin for you. You had your healthy everyday gummies, some Vitamin D, allergy pill, whatever else, and then at least three sugar packets. Not counting the ones you'd ingest later before training, or in the middle of training.

Your quirk allowed you unbelievable speed, but at the cost of sugar or really the glucose produced (I don't know biology please don't kill me if this doesn't make sense). You could run almost a mile in your first UA years, close to topping Lida's best speed. That was until you inevitably crashed. Body collapsing into a tired delirious state. In one instance going cold, and becoming lightheaded- your sugar level had dropped too fast for you to even notice and stop.

●○●○●○●○●○●

“ Hero Photo at your service!'' Your hero name, to your absolute corny pleasure, was short for photosynthesis. A joke about how your body turned the sugar into liquid fuel like a plant— Shinso smiled lightly when you told him the reason why you chose such a name. “I don't want some poor parents having to worry about their toddler downing sugar packets because they see a hero do it. So, let's just make them think I get my energy from the sun!”

“Ironic considering the amount of vitamin D I see you take.”

“Oh shut it Shinso!”

●○●○●○●○●○●

Shinso smiled warmly at you from across the table. The warmth of the morning light on you causing an ethereal glow as you pour what you had believed to be sugar into your hot coffee. But the twisted look on your face and splash of coughing told him otherwise. A wicked smirk playing on his lip, “Salt?”

“Shut it!”

●○●○●○●○●○●

Curled up with him under a blanket, your face puzzled as you stared at the half-completed sudoku puzzle. Shinso watched you with a lazy smile as you filled in more squares. It was one of the hardest puzzles in the book. He'd need to get you another one, maybe as a gift? Your birthday was too far away and he wanted to get you one of the stupidly hard wooden 3D puzzles he saw on YouTube. He remembers the stars in your eyes as you watched the man struggle to open it.

●○●○●○●○●○●

“Go in around the back. Denki along with Uraraka takes the left flank. Uraraka you'll lift the metal materials in the air and ensure they don't touch you or any civilians. Denki, try and channel your spark to hit the metal scraps as a conductor. While that goes on-” Shinso watched from the back of the room as you schooled the loud, irritating Bakugou on his battle plan.

●○●○●○●○●○●

“What?”

“They were taken, not sure by who, likely (Enter Villians, maybe Lov? Up to you).”

“When.”

“Three days ago”

Shinso was silent, Aizawa watching him, his fingers twitching as he waited for his student to crack. “Why wait so long to tell me?” It wasn't a fair question and Shinso knew that. While sections of people knew you were an item, larger ones didn't. And there wasn't a reason to tell him of your disappearance, he was only a student.

“Their quirk, we know you know more about it.” Aizawa scuffled lightly, regardless of your ranking, you were still a student and a child no less. How did they not know more about your quirk? Or did they not care to learn about you?

“We know they use sunlight-”

“No” Shinsos voice was strained, anger washing through him. “Their quirk evolves around sugar”

●○●○●○●○●○●

You rested, eyes closed in the darkness of the room. Pitch dark, not even possible to see your body that rested tied in the chair. Your body felt stiff and sore, bruises forming on your pale cheeks and ribs from the beatings. No, the lack of light didn't affect your quirk, your immune system, and overall emotions, yes. It was like a void, a cold room where you questioned if your icey body even was touching the wooden chair. But the lack of food played heavily. Regardless, even if your captors were right about the darkness, the lack of food would weaken anyone. Your body, after all the training and muscle growth, needed more food.

●○●○●○●○●○●

Drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth, body slumped in exhaustion. It took too much energy to even close your mouth.

Another day, another unanswered question, another beating. Every once in a while they'd ask a question you would know an answer to, but even then said you were clueless. How many days have you been in this room? The lack of light messed up your clock, to where time felt pointless. You struggled to latch onto hope. Days must have passed, and you were feeling closer and closer to death. Withdrawing from your superfood, sugar, torturing your body. You had never gone so long without it. And for a moment, you wondered if your body could. Your mind flashed to the doctors telling you to ingest as much as you could, the irrigation in their voice as they backtracked on every once of advice they had ever given. “Your energy, not just your quirk, depends on it.” interesting… You were so young when you heard that information, and you only remember it now.

●○●○●○●○●○●

10 days. Shinso rested in the car, body stiff and tense. Eyes set on the headrest in front of him. Eye hollow, yet filled and swirled with sickening fear and anguish.

●○●○●○●○●○●

12 days. The door swung open, shining blinding light onto you. A high-pitched cry left your chapped lips as it flashed your unprepared eyes. It felt like your skin was melting at its harshness. As though it was a flame held up to your skin. “Y/N '' a voice nearly screamed. Your head swirled up, vision blinded by the light and head now pounding, what little energy you had straining. “In-show?” your small voice cracked. Swollen tongue struggling to say the name. “I'm here! I'm here! I got you!”

Shino's eyes watered lightly at your appearance. Pale, you were sickly pale. Your hair was greasy, which he cared little about, except that it seemed matted with blood. Your cheeks were bruised and your eyes sunk in. And you were cold, so cold.

Then you cried, whimpering out in vain as you tried to grasp onto him once free. He held you close, your two bodies resting on the ground for a second as he cradled your frail self. “I love you - I love you” he repeated into your hair, not caring at the smell or cracked blood.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You lay in the hospital bed, sugar packets and sugar bags splayed open. You looked healthier and more alive. Your colors coming back and your bruises slowly fading. Shinso sat beside you, fingers carefully rubbing your hand. Too worried to fully hold your hand due to the red marks you received from struggling in your binds. “I love you,” you whispered out through cracked lips.

Shinso smiled, leaning down to kiss you until you moved your head away. “N-no.” He froze, fear raking his body. You must have felt it, the sudden tension in his body, and quickly you spoke. “My- my lips are cracked and- and I smell awful.” he won't lie, you kind of did. You smelt like a sterilized hospital room, like the cheap but effective soap the infirmary used. He cocked an eyebrow and laughed slightly.

“And I'm supposed to care?”

“Sh-shut it!”

●○●○●○●○●○●

Azawia leaned into the small area you two shared, making sure both of you were okay. The image of Shinso's red eyes and angered face never leaves his mind. How he carried your nearly limp body in his arms, your skin bruised and the usual smirk you so often had gone and replaced by a busted lip. But now, instead, he found you nuzzled into Shinso’s shoulder. The lanky male hunched over your bed, arms wrapped tightly around you as he buried his face into your hair. Azawia looked away and walked out of the medical wing, his body finally relaxing. You both where safe, you both were okay

#bnha headcannons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha writing #fluff #bnha requests #🪴request/ questions🪴 #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha shinso x reader #shinsou headcanons #shinso hitoshi #my hero academia shinsou

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #170

1. Hello! This is probably a bit vague so I apologise for that, but I've had a fic scene stuck I my head for some time and can't find the fic where I read it. I remember that Crowley and Aziraphale were in the Bentley, Crowley was speeding as usual, and either the Bentley was playing or Crowley was singing lyrics from "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out" by The Smiths. Specifically the part about the double-decker bus. I think part of the song were also spread across the fic to match the mood/scene, but I'm not 100% sure. I'm also mostly sure I read it before the pandemic, so it's should be from before February 2020, if that helps. Again, sorry if it's a vague request! - @dumpster-connoisseur

2. Hello, I'm hoping you can help me find a fic I thought I had bookmarked? I believe it was posted on LiveJournal or a similar site, definitely not Ao3. Post the book/season 1, A&C just started a relationship, they're both asexual. A succubus impersonates Aziraphale to trap Crowley in a demon trap and then goes to Aziraphale pretending to be Crowley to try to sleep with him and suck out his life force. Aziraphale drops a piano on him when he realizes it's not Crowley. Y'all are amazing, tysm! - @idontremembershippingthis

3. Hi! I'm looking for a fic I read some years ago, it was definitely after season 1, not book canon. It was rather mature or explicit. This fic followed Crowley throught the ages and how he wasn't able to lose his virginity, sometimes he even had a mission from Hell and Aziraphale had already sleep with that person in order to help Heaven. We get closer to our timeline and Crowley meets a guy he likes and thinks this would be the time but I think his father had an accident and Crowley did the right thing and let him go to the hospital. I think there were some miracles involved, I'm not sure. Aziraphale finds out about this and lovemaking happens. - anon

4. hello! i need help, please. do you, perhaps, know the ao3 fanfic where everyone was trying to set up aziraphale and crowley, many things happen, they get locked in some room with a window so everyone can snoop on them, crowley turns into a snake because he doesn't want to talk about their relationship, all to know that they were already together by that time and they wanted to make a little jokey joke to their friends so they acted like they still had unresolved tension with each other. thanks! - anon

5. hello! been thinking about an outsider pov fic, and i just cant find it. its from the perspective of some people on some sort of paranormal investigation website who all take it way too seriously looking into the bookshop. one scene from it i remember quite vividly is a lady going in with a bible, saying prayers as she walked around and sprinkling holy water everywhere with her just narrowly missing hitting crowley with it. she is promptly kicked out. id be very glad if you knew its name - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d

[yesimwriting]

What Follows

a/n can (likely) see myself making a part 2 of this, it’s like 4:30 AM and i cannot make that decision rn,, so if you think that’s a good idea or are interest,, lmk, public opinion could make or break my decision once i’m better rested

Summary: If you had to think about the coincidences that brought you to this, you’d realize that it was inevitable. Domino pieces falling into place. Or, to put it simply, it’s the end of the world and yet your biggest concern is your teeny tiny...terrible, life ruining crush. 

*cough* sharing bed trope, and some other stuff 

also i’ve never played the game i’ve only watched the show but i have some context of the game (i’ve watched some videos),, but timeline wise,, location wise, it’s pretty general as i’m just going with what fits for my intended story line like i do with most fics :)) it’s mainly set in a sort of safe house 

warnings: potential timeline errors, mentions of age gap that’s pretty vague, allusions to anxiety and canon angsty-ness

----

Memories of before are tricky. Most of them hybrids, odd mix-matches of true experiences and snippets of other things. Stories from an uneasy rotation of people, bits and pieces from books and magazines and other odds and ends. A collage that makes up an easily swayed perception of the world before. 

But you know this one is real. You know it is because it’s so mundane there’s no way someone gave it to you. It’s a quick glimpse, a brief flicker of you in a pair of roller skates with those thick, plastic stoppers attached to the front. The memory isn’t of what they felt like, or how many laps you did up and down your block. All you remember is the stinging. The soft skin of your knee scraped raw by the sidewalk. The particularness of that kind of pain. 

That’s what the realization feels like. Knowing that there’s a chance that you might feel something for Joel outside of general gratitude for the unofficial way Ellie and him took you in is speeding down a street just to collapse with no warning against unforgiving concrete.

His fingers brush around broken skin with a delicateness that turns you rigid. These are the same hands that beat a man within an inch of his life the first time he met you. It’s a juxtaposition that twists your nerves tight around your stomach.

It’s quiet now. More so than usual because Ellie’s asleep. If you had to come to your realization at all, you should have done it during the day. With Joel at a safe distance and Ellie awake to distract from the fact that you’ve been staring at his hand in total silence for minutes now. A violently out of character mistake, which is why you’re not surprised when his voice breaks the nothingness with a question: “You alright?” 

You sit up a little straighter. “Yeah.” It comes out flat and distant. “Yeah,” you affirm, a little more here, “Just thinking.” 

Ugh. Not nearly deflective or subtle enough. It’s the kind of cop out answer that worked in the beginning, before there was any form of attachment. Back then, you thought you’d only be around them for a few days. Until the swelling in your ankle went down enough to let you walk efficiently again. It was the least they could do then, after you jumped in to save Ellie when Joel and her were briefly separated. 

Joel’s mouth pulls into a shadow of a frown in the low light. A pang of guilt strikes you in the chest with no warning. Slipping back to that for no real reason goes a step beyond unfair; it’s mean. “I remembered something from before.” Joel says nothing, but his eyes refocus on you in a way that feels attentive. “Nothing big or interesting, just remembered these roller skates from when I was a kid. The one time I went out without knee pads I fell and scraped my knee.” 

His hand shifts away from your current injury--a long, yet shallow cut up your foreleg. Joel’s fingertips ghost up the skin, there and not at the same time. He settles his palm near your knee. “Is that how this happened?” There’s a hint of something in his voice, a touch of gentleness that makes you feel like he might be teasing you, at least a little. 

That kind of humor is new. Well, not new new anymore, but new enough to still sometimes slip past your perception or take you completely by surprise. Joel’s transition from constantly distant and standoffish to who he is now was equal parts slow as it was all at once. Weeks of tiptoeing, of hesitant flashes of a softer side until it became more and more there. It’s still not the side of him that’s most common, but considering the place where the two of you started from, the difference feels like miles from the sad starting point. 

You blink, tilting your head downwards to focus on the skin next to his thumb. A scar that’s little more than a blemish. The kind of mark that’s a result of picking at a scab again and again. “That’s nothing.” It’s such a small thing and Joel pointed it out so quickly. Like he knows your skin better than you do. Dwelling on that thought isn’t an option, so you recover with a question, “How’d you even see that?” 

Joel raises his eyebrows as if your surprise is something worth being amused by. “When you get used to seeing, it’s easy.” 

Of course it’s that. Considering how Joel is, how he always scouts out areas before letting us settle, it makes sense that he’d notice that. It’d be weirder if he didn’t. You press your foot into the ground, letting the feel of the dirt compacting itself beneath your shoe hold you in place. You’re almost embarrassed that you’ve never noticed the mark on your knee enough to fully register it. “I’ll let you check the rest of me for scars later then.” 

What. Did. You. Just. Say. What. 

Your entire body becomes as stiff as the trunk you’re leaning against. There are a lot of things you don’t know about attraction and dating, but you’re not so dense you can’t tell that that’s the worst line you’ve ever heard. 

Staring at the ground forever feels like the only safe option left, but it’s extremely unviable. After a few seconds, not knowing starts to feel as bad as knowing so you force yourself to look up enough to see him. He’s staring at you, mouth morphing into a subtle smile. He lets out a breathy scoff that’s supposed to cover a laugh, but you know better by now than to fall for that. 

“I didn’t say that.” With a sigh, you let your eyes shut. “I mean--I said it as in the words did come out of my mouth--but not like--y’know.” 

Joel laughs again, this time more openly. It’s deep and full and makes the burning of your humiliation worth all of it. “I know?” 

Squinting your eyes open, you take in his smugness. It’s different and oddly warm. And unfortunately, not unattractive. “You’re not funny.” Indignation makes you want to pull your leg back, and you should. You know you should. If there was any concern about the cut on your leg, Joel wouldn’t be joking. But he relaxes his hand, fingers splaying against your skin. “So what’s the verdict: Keeping the leg or cutting my losses?” 

Joel lets out another breath-laugh. This time it’s shorter. “And I’m the unfunny one?” Yeah, that’s the kind of response that guarantees your safety. The kind of comment he’d only ever make if everything is truly fine. “You’re okay.” 

“Just like I told you--” 

He ignores the comment with an expert’s ease. “Tomorrow I’ll go out, get some penicillin.” 

“Shit.” You frown, turning your leg out slightly to get a better look. This is easily one of the most embarrassing injuries of your life. Not inflicted by the monsters that infest your world or a corrupt person. The only thing you’re a victim of is not paying enough attention while panicking and not noticing a jagged rock.  It’s nothing life changing, nothing worthy of this much attention or discussion. “It’s infected?” 

Joel’s hand relaxes against your lower knee. It’s more of an implication of pressure than an actual change, but your body reacts to it all the same. You ease. “It was a muddy rock.” He pauses, like he’s running through his words. “Better safe.” 

Oh. Preventative antibiotics. A kind thought, but it feels unrealistic. “If nothing’s wrong, I don’t think we should risk it.” You blink, eyes struggling to focus on anything other than the hand still on your knee. If Joel feels awkward about it, he gives no indication. Which means it must be normal. Joel’s too him to do anything not normal when it comes to touch. “You’re hurt. More hurt than me, who’s just an idiot.” 

“’M fine.” Tell that to the flash of purple you saw when Joel’s shirt briefly rode up this morning. It had only been that way for a second, but that was all it took for you to realize that Joel’s bruising is larger than the size of your hand. You wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he has a cracked rib. 

You must let your disbelief show because the corner of his mouth turn upwards. Not quite a smile, but it’s close enough. “Tell that to your probably cracked rib.” 

 “I’m fine,” he repeats, and when you don’t ease, he tacts on something fatal, “Don’t pout.”

The joke is nothing original. Back in the ‘early’ days of your friendship, when things were rockier and less known, Joel had pointed out your expressiveness. He claimed it made it too easy to figure out more or less what you were thinking. It hadn’t been an insult, but it bothered you more than it should have. Which is a fact that Joel used to prove his hypothesis correct, because he then immediately told you that there was no point in pouting about it. 

Joel only says it in good humor. You know that, but that doesn’t mean you like it. It all goes back to the same thing. An implication that you’re transparent. You hate it. 

Transparency is for the naive, for those who haven’t experienced enough to be hardened. It makes you feel like a child, and maybe that’s intentional. Maybe it’s Joel’s equivalent to patting you on the head and telling you to cheer up, kiddo.

You’ve never understood the way the implication manages to snag itself beneath your skin, but now that you’re examining it under the lens of your new realization, it’s too much. There’s a good chance he sees you like another kid to look after. 

 “I’m not pouting.” A bad kind of heat rises up your chest. Instinctually, you angle your leg a little closer to yourself. It’s not a full retreat, but Joel’s fingers shift to secure their hold on you. 

It’s enough to shock you into stilling. If Joel’s prolonged contact was unexpected, him instinctually fighting to keep it is absolutely unbelievable. He’s not squeezing or forcing you to stay in place, but the gesture is enough to feel like he’s asking you to. “Need to wrap it.” 

Another thing you consider over treating a cut of this size. The only thing startling about it is its length. “It’s not that deep.” 

“Let me wrap it.” His voice comes out with a gruff annoyance that’s become increasingly familiar. It makes everything sound like some kind of version of don’t give me shit. 

You fight down a grin. “Admit your rib’s cracked.”

Joel presses his lips together, lines etching themselves into his skin. “Do you always have to argue?” 

Pausing, you pretend to have to think about it. “We all need hobbies.” You give yourself permission to look at him. Really look at him. “When you argue your eyebrows draw together and this line appears between them.” 

He laughs once, this time a little more openly. It’s still a little breathy and maybe even a little reluctant, but it feels good. Like sunlight saturating a room during the dead of winter. “I’m old.” 

Another reminder of that. You fight against the way it twists at your insides. “I’ve met older.” 

“Grandparents don’t count.” 

It’s all so weird and ridiculous, so you do the only thing you can think to. You laugh. “I wasn’t thinking about my grandparents.” 

It’s meant to be a joke that echoes his own, only it’s not quite that. Not with the way your voice softens and your eyes focus on his.

His fingers take their time parting from your skin. A slow drag that feels dangerously close to intentional. You’re practically holding your breath until he stands. “I’ll grab something for your leg.” 

There’s another thing left to point out. Something hanging in between the two of you. The fact that you’re perfectly capable of bandaging it yourself. That there’s a good chance you’d be better at it. “Okay.” 

----

When there is no sun and sleep pulls you under only to push you back out, time feels fickle. You don’t know how long it’s been since you all agreed to go to bed. 

Things feel different now that you’re all temporarily established in some safe house. Joel’s connection to it is vague to you. He mentioned his brother at some point, though you think details were used intentionally sparingly. It doesn’t feel cagey to you like it used to. Now it just feels like he’s holding off until it’s time to tell you everything.

 Maybe he’s waiting for it to come up naturally on some night where there’s nothing but time or maybe he’s waiting for it to feel right. You’re okay with either and any option. His past is his. You know he gives you what he can bare to and it’s only a matter of time until you hear the rest. 

You sit up, resting your back against the wall that your mattress is pressed against. Despite the dark, the outline of your roommate is easy to see. You’re not sure how it happened, the division of space that led to you and Joel in the same room and Ellie sleeping on her own. 

It’s only been a few nights and you’ve yet to regret going along with it. Ellie deserves the little privacy life can offer her considering the way you and Joel watch the poor girl. And, in all honestly, you’ve never been particularly fond of long hours alone in the dark. Especially since you joined Joel and Ellie on their mission. You’ve gotten more used to being around people than ever and that’s made being alone more noticeable than ever.

Sometimes when you can’t sleep your mind goes there. After. The inevitable separation. It makes your chest hurt and forces memories of what you’ve already lost to the surface. That makes it even harder to sleep, so sometimes you just settle for watching. You’d feel weirder about it if the dark of night didn’t make it little more than a step above staring off into space. 

Bending your knees, you adjust your position on the mattress, letting thin blankets fall away. It’s cold; the bite of it is welcomed.

Everyone’s temporary. You’ve learned that already. It’s burned into you the way that normal memories should be. 

This is stupid. All of it. Maybe Joel’s right to see you as a child. One bad dream shouldn’t have this much power of you. Quietly, you squeeze your arms around your legs. It’s the same position you were in when it happened. When you lost her. 

You don’t realize that you’re breathing heavier than you should be until you hear Joel’s mattress adjust as he moves from his side to his back. Shit. He never gets enough sleep. Guilt and embarrassment swell in you, but it’s not enough to subdue the impending panic. 

“You awake?” It’s mumbled through a voice that’s heavy with sleep.

A part of you wants to stay quiet, but that’d be wrong. You already woke him up, the last thing you need to do is stress him out. “Yeah,” you manage, “I’m up.” Your voice comes out so hollow you barely recognize it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I--I’m gonna--” You don’t know what the end of the sentence is supposed to be. Something that implies that you’re stepping out and that everything’s fine. “Go back to sleep.” 

There’s a moment of nothing and a small part of you thinks maybe Joel’s listened for once. Your hope is shattered at the sound of rustling sheets. “C’mere.” 

It’s said so faintly you can imagine that it’s a figment of your imagination. Likely a mumbled slur that he won’t even remember in the morning. A sleep idled grunt of acknowledgement that just so happened to sound like a word. You know it’s nothing. You know you heard him incorrectly, but you can’t relax. Not yet. You hold yourself there, breath caught in your lungs as a prolonged beat passes. 

Joel breaks the silence by moving off of his side and on to his back. His arm stretches forward, pulling his blanket to the side. Are you crazy or is that...some kind of invitation? “I’m not going back to bed until you come here.” 

There’s still sleep in his voice, but he’s already managed to snap back into seriousness. A subdued authority. Your body moves on its own accord. You sit up fully, place your feet on the ground, and stand. Walking is a little harder but the distance is short. 

You stand in front of his mattress, smaller than you’ve ever been. Joel’s never fully relaxed. He’s close to it now, and you wonder if you’ll be around long enough to be able to see it. The question leaves you too cold, too antsy. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re sitting at the edge of his mattress. “’M here,” you whisper, “And I’m fine.” 

A touch at your lower arm nearly makes you jump. It’s just Joel. “You’re shaky.” He sits up so quickly you can barely register it. The back of his palm presses itself against your neck before he reaches for your temple. His fingers feel like ice but you can’t bring yourself to move away.  “You’re not warm--” 

“No fever.” It leaves you too quietly. “I--I’m fine.” Joel’s hand leaves your forehead and settles against your back. “Just realized some shit.” His fingers drag down your spine and trace their way back to their original resting place. Again and again, a pattern that makes it easy to breathe. “I’ve been around for awhile, with you and Els. Longer than I thought I’d be. Longer than...” Longer than I’ve been with anyone since I lost her. “Just longer.”

His touch nearly falters. “Mhm.” 

“And it’s been nice. Really nice.” Your nails softly scratch the inside of your wrist. “And I don’t want to get to that part where something fucked up happens.” Your breath catches itself in your throat. “I know that the fucked up part is normally my fault. Historically, at least, but--” You cut yourself off with a shaky breath, hating yourself for being this pathetic. “I just really don’t want to get there. To the fucked up part that leads to the leaving part.”

Getting things out in the open is supposed to make things feel better. It’s supposed to make things lighter. That’s what people always say. This isn’t that. There’s no epiphany, no healing. It leaves you and it stays that way. Gone.

Hollowness is worse. It’s too revealing. You should leave, mumble a vague comment about dreams and sleepy thoughts before crawling back to your own jumble of cushioning and jumbled blanket or at the very least apologize for waking him over nothing. 

You do neither. For a minute there’s only the silence and the cold and the safe assurance of Joel tracing patterns against your back. “There’s not going to be a fucked up part.” Joel destroys the silence. “Not a fucked up part that leads to leaving.” 

“You don’t know--” Your cut off is jarring, but it’s better than letting him hear what you were going to say. You don’t know me. Don’t know the kinds of things that happen around me. “That.”

Joel’s hand retreats and your world feels less stable. “There won’t be.” His tone is harsher than before, a tone that leaves no room for argument from the universe let alone you. He shifts, pushing most of himself to one side. “Just lay down.” The lowness of his voice is too assured to be considered understanding. It hints at impatience but undoes a knot in your stomach regardless. “Try to get some sleep.” 

You nod your head slowly, the motion overly deliberate despite the fact that he likely can’t see it. There’s nothing else to be said, so you stretch back, placing your legs onto his mattress and carefully easing yourself onto your back.

Now that you’re under the same blanket as him, the thinness of it is hard to ignore. When the three of you divided the bedding supplies found in some closet, Joel had picked last. You asked if he ever felt like trading, but he insisted that he was warm enough and that if he ever wasn’t, he could always use his jacket for extra layering. 

The realization that he’s likely been freezing without complaint takes a second to sink in. He likes his walls up and to play detached, but then takes the worst of the blankets without complaint. It’s so stupidly close to being a martyr that you nearly laugh. It’s so him in the worst way, the kind of way he’d never acknowledge. 

You’re debating whether or not the additional warmth of your blanket would be worth potentially disturbing his sleep again. If you did that, maybe in the morning you could pretend to get the two blankets mixed up. You think you could get used to being this cold if he’d let you. 

“You know what you remind me of.”

His voice is so unexpected you nearly jump out of your skin. With your mind focusing on other things, it was easier to pretend that there was nothing unusual about this. 

Blood rushing to your face, you adjust so that you’re more on your side. Facing him. "I thought you wanted me to go to sleep.” 

Joel sighs and you can practically feel his lungs filling and deflating. “I didn’t think tonight would be the night you started listening to me.” 

At least he’s learning. “First time for everything.” The words feel different once they’re out in the air. It’s meant to be a passing comment, not what the darkness morphs it into. 

It’s the second time a realization has come at a terrible time in the last few days. You know that you’ve been lying in his bed, but now you’re feeling the fact. Feeling the little space between you and the dip in the mattress’s fabric where he’s resting. It’d be easy to extend your arm. Dangerously easy. 

You feel his head tilt, angling himself even closer to you. “Do you want to know or not?” 

It takes a second for your mind to cement a connection. “What I remind you of?” You hum once, several jokes that’d make this easier coming to mind instantly. “I have a few guesses.” It’s too dark to make out the details of his expression, but you can feel his halfhearted glare. “Okay, tell me.” 

“There was this story from before. Way before.” You’re patient as he takes his time thinking through what he wants to say. You don’t mind the wait, not when he’s close enough that his casualness is tangible enough to be contagious. “About a kid that saw this white rabbit. She chased the thing down a hole and it took her into this other world, and there were some other things, but she kept chasing that rabbit.”

You would have laugh if he had spoken any less seriously. It’s always been clear that you two aren’t exactly the same age, and some references that are about before the outbreak feel either vague or completely disconnected from you, but not everything. “I know I’m younger than you, but I know about Alice in Wonderland.” 

“Excuse me.” The two words are dripping in sarcasm; you beam. “After you didn’t know that--” 

“I knew you were going to say that.” You don’t get one reference one time and now he feels the need to explain everything. “It was one time.” 

“Even Ellie got it.” 

“I was tired.” He raises his eyebrows at that, a gesture of disbelief. You huff once, sitting up a little to shove his shoulder. “I was.” He lets out a sound that’s a little too smug. You move your hand, but before you can push at his arm, his fingers find their way around your wrist. When you try to tug your arm back, his resistance surprises you. “Asshole.” 

His hand leaves goosebumps crawling up your arm as he adjusts his hold on you. “You’re the one that shoved me.” Like he’s not the one that instigated it. “And you interrupted me.” 

“Fine.” You lay back down. Joel doesn’t let go of your arm and you make no move to get it back. His hands are so cold you find it hard not to worry. Hypothermia’s a thing. “Continue. Alice in Wonderland.” 

“The rabbit,” he says, “You’re a lot like that.” 

You play around with the thought, scraping together the details you remember about the white rabbit. It’s been awhile since you’ve watched the Disney movie version, and even longer since you’ve heard the actual story. Alice got into some trouble with the queen of hearts and her card deck guards. Every time she wasn’t supposed to be somewhere it was because of that rabbit, wasn’t that the gist of it? She just kept chasing and chasing it. 

“So who am I leading astray?” 

“No.” He says it so quickly, the silence that follows is unexpected. You accept it. You’ll wait. “You’re...you’re followable.” Oh. The cold makes no difference to the uncontrollable warmth that rushes to your face. 

He feels tenser, his touch on your arm a little more hesitant. The meaning of that from Joel isn’t lost on you."You are, too.” 

Joel’s fingers brush up your arm. “Not the way you are.” 

You like the way he is, like that he’s the kind of person that can be moody and standoffish for days and still take the thinnest blanket. “I disagree.” 

“That’s not new.” 

“I think it’s good we don’t agree.” He waits for you to continue with little reaction, but you know he’s listening. “I can follow you, you can follow me. Makes it easier.”

He hums once, “Sounds like walking in circles.” 

Rolling your eyes, you finally let your attention fall to his hand. “You’re so cold.” 

Joel mistakes it for a complaint instead of the show of concern it’s meant to be. His hand moves off you so quickly you barely have a chance to reach for him. He doesn’t resist, not even when you squeeze his one hand between both of yours. You’re careful, gentle as you let your fingers move up and down his skin. When he doesn’t complain, you do something a better rested you would have never done. You let your touch wander further, first to his wrist and then down to his forearm. He’s no warmer there. 

“Shit, Joel.” you start pressing your hands against his forearm, your need to make his skin feel like it’s at a stable temperature overriding your survival instincts. “You’re freezing.” You sit up, taking his arm with you. “Are you sick?” 

“Sick’s hot.” 

“Tell that to someone with early stage hypothermia.” You scoot back, preparing to move over to grab your blanket. “I’ll get my blanket.” 

He squeezes your arm. “I’m fine.” You’re seconds away from protest, but Joel stops you. “Just stay put.” 

You’re about to insist. It’ll take less than a minute and make things a lot better. The urgency in his hold makes it impossible. Makes the thought of doing anything that doesn’t involve holding on just as intensely outside of the realm of possibility. “Okay.” 

If he’s surprised at how quickly you give in, he doesn’t show it, he just lets you lay down again. You’re not sure if you can prove it, but it feels like he’s closer than before. “How are you not cold?” 

You almost tell him you do feel cold, he’s just that much colder, but then think he might use that as a reason to move away from you. He’d never understand that you’d rather be cold than know he’s freezing. Or maybe the problem is he’d get it too much, that he’d feel the same way. 

“I run a little warm.” You brush your fingers down his arms again. It’s nice in a way you don’t get. “Except my feet.” 

He tilts his head. “Your feet?” 

You stretch your legs until your feet find his. “They’re cold.” 

Joel lets out a disgruntled sound, moving closer to let his legs cover your feet. “Rabbit.” 

The giggle that comes out would be embarrassing if that had been any less funny. Your forehead pushes forward, dropping against his shoulder. “Please don’t let that stick.” 

“They burrow.” You grin against his skin, deciding that you really like this version of him. A little lighter, a little more candid. “You’re a little jittery, too.” 

“Shut up.” He’s not wrong, which only makes you resent him a little more. “‘M not.” 

There’s no fight in your reaction so you have no idea how Joel finds a way to take it as a challenge. He must have, though, because you can think of no other explanation for the way he stills. No other motive for the way you can feel his eyes focusing on you or the slow way he moves his hand down your arm.

You will your body to stay still, to not react. It doesn’t listen. You shiver. 

Maybe you are a fucking rabbit. 

The only thing worse than this reaction is the thought of Joel being right. So you force your lips to part even though you have no idea what to say. “Think we should go to sleep.” Your voice feels awkward, shallow. “...Get a few hours before Els wakes up.” 

He’s almost smiling, “She takes up a lot of energy.” 

“Yeah,” you agree with an even more open fondness, “Told her I’d teach her how to shoot arrows and french braid hair.” You smile at the thought. It’s good to have someone to teach, to pass something onto. “Feels like summer camp.” 

You’re expecting a similar type of joke, or maybe a snarky comment about archery over actual shooting. Instead, his hand settles a little more comfortably against your arm. “You’re good with her.” 

“She’s easy to be good with.” It’s true. Beneath the smart ass jokes and swear rate that could make a sailor uncomfortable, Ellie’s just a kid, and a good one, too.

Joel’s one to talk about people that are good with Ellie. When you first met, you genuinely thought they were father and daughter until Joel explained to you what they were doing. “It’s more than that.”

His approval means a lot when it comes to this. “You’re even better with her.” 

Ellie’s another factor all together. There’s no way it wouldn’t feel weird for her to know that in the other room, you and Joel are sharing a mattress, holding onto each other because of the cold. 

It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it just feels odd when considering her. Like this is some kind of game of house. The realization that you think you might like Joel is still pretty new and something that’s ruined a lot of things. Every time it floats to the front of your mind, everything starts feeling off. 

You don’t want to taint this or to overthink. You want to let it all soak in. The two of you sharing a mattress and a too thin blanket. His leg is still resting over your feet and your hands are still on his arm. You’re a slowly tangling web of limbs and you don’t think you’d have it any other way as you drift towards unconsciousness. 

#the last of us fanfic #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #tlou hbo max #fluff

[slow-burn-sally]

My Favorite Characters with ADHD

Again, these are only my opinions.

Jeremy - The Secret Of NIMH. Come on. Look at him. He is a combined-type ADHD boy if ever there was one. Distracted, clumsy, impulsive, I bet the writers either had ADHD, knew someone who had ADHD, or had a child with ADHD.

2. Newton Geiszler - Pacific Rim.

Also impulsive as fuck, a class clown, obnoxious, yet obnoxiously smart, and somehow still charming as fuck. He reads very ADHD to me. BB. Forgive me for using the meme gif. It's just so good.

3. Rose Nylund - The Golden Girls

Who doesn't love Rose? She's friendly, sweet, fun, creative, horny, and hilarious. She also can't remember anything for more than five minutes, and is the human equivalent of a small, cute dog who bumps into things a lot by accident. I love you Rose. Long live Betty White.

4. Sherlock Holmes (The Jeremy Brett Granada-Holmes).

I actually think Holmes may have had both ADHD and Autism, but really, Brett's Holmes is bombastic, impulsive (seeing a trend), able to hyperfocus at the speed of light. Overshares, blows up friendships. Cannot keep a clean flat. Hyper as all get out. Think about it.

5. Nadja of Antipaxos - What We Do In The Shadows

She's a hot mess. Distracted, forgetful, intensely interested in some things, and cannot be bothered to give a flying fuck about other things. Out of sight, out of mind. She's probably also AuDHD actually, but for the purposes of this list, I will draw your attention to her many impulsive and rash decisions surrounding her emotions, and her over the top RSD. She's so beautiful, help.

6. Jonathan Strange - Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.

Oh my god such an ADHD boy! He cannot sit still, and he has no patience for rules or regulations. He's self centered, impulsive (hello!), running off on the King's Roads, and drinking mouse juice to make himself go mad on purpose. Failing at four careers before finally becoming a magician by absolute accident. I love you Johnty. Never change.

7. Cornelius Hickey (or whatever his real name is) - The Terror.

He's impulsive (aye-oh!), makes sudden, rash decisions, is prone to flashes of anger, has off the charts RSD, and though he manages to hyperfocus on sabotaging the expedition for his own needs, he still makes a lot of careless mistakes and fucks it up royally. Too bad one of his hyper-focuses wasn't "learning about ships". I love you Hickey, you adorable bastard. How is his hair always so good?

8. Back to JS&MN for Christopher Drawlight.

Christopher Drawlight cannot sit still to save his life. He's always being charming, chatting people up, and making social connections, both real and fabricated by himself. Only sometimes, he loses track of which lies he's told, and to whom, which gets him in a lot of trouble. His hyperfocus is social status, and he can't let it go, even at the bitter end. He's really one of my favorite characters, even if he is a horrible person. This goes for both book and show Drawlight, by the way. Both top notch. Both ADHD as fuck.

9. Dory - Finding Nemo.

I mean... do I have to say anything else? I don't think I do. I love Dory so much. I relate so, so much. Inattentive ADHD Fish Sister.

10. All versions of Doctor Who, but Tenant is becoming iconic, and I love him, so let's go with number 10!

Just an all around hyperactive ADHD guy. Fun, creative, adventurous, risk taker, IMPULSIVE (it doesn't end). But really, all Doctor Whos feel ADHD to me. There's something capricious and clumsy and dreamy and jumpy about all of them.

#adhd #actually adhd #neurodivergence #the secret of nimh #pacific rim #newton geiszler #the golden girls #rose nylund #jeremy brett #sherlock holmes #granada holmes #wwdits #nadja of antipaxos #jonathan strange and mr. norrell #jonathan strange #the terror #cornelius hickey #christopher dralight #jsamn #finding nemo #dory #doctor who #the 10th doctor

[togglesbloggle]

Still riding high from watching Royal Space Force, which is an extraordinary film in ways that films are rarely extraordinary.

There's a line in that Wikipedia article I linked that's quoting Ted Chiang- he says that it's "the single most impressive example of worldbuilding in books or film." That's high praise for sure, and I'm not at all sure how much I can argue with it. Every inch and instant of this thing is a gradual unfolding of an internally consistent and fully realized alternate technological civilization, with lavish animation and deep reflection on its machines, architecture, industrial processes, and infrastructure, as the narrative follows a sort of Yuri Gagarin analogue as they advance towards their first manned spaceflight. Their devices are often whimsical, but mechanically grounded, and throughout the film you're constantly seeing shades of early- and mid-century technologies in jumbled and decontextualized ways that just sing with love for engineering as a human art.

It's fun, in particular, to watch advances in propulsion technology as they're reflected in such a complexly realized might-have-been. As with them, so with us- the early 20th century was a time of rapid technological change on any number of axes, but our sudden exhilarating speed was at the center of it all. A single generation saw both the advent of flying machines and the first human in space; they saw wars become world wars, they saw rockets become intercontinental ballistic nuclear warheads. That's what this movie is about, really; changing the ground truth just enough to let you feel that exhilarating speed again for the first time.

It's a particularly good movie to watch this week, if you're the sort of person who's been avidly following the news on room temperature superconductors. Because we aren't, quite, the target audience for this movie. It came out in 1987, late enough to be nostalgic for that revolution, late enough to have seen the explosive growth of our capacity for motion become one more S-curve, crushed back down to the horizontal under the weight of the rocketry equations, but still as a thing remembered and experienced firsthand. Like the first Star Wars movie, it's not just a celebration of rocketry, but also trades in the visual language of urbanization, factionalism, and aerial warfare that erupted across the world as it abruptly shrank. It can be helpful to think very deeply about that moment.

You and I have never seen something like that happen before. We've had our technological revolutions, sure. For us, computers have been the axis around which it all turned. And for good reason! The universal machine, the tool that can do anything, as long as that 'anything' is made of light. We also shrank the world, in a way. But the information revolution is a subtle thing, dreamlike and insubstantial and interpersonal. The propulsion revolution was a revolution in power, direct and loud and furious. A room temperature superconductor, also, would be a revolution in power. I don't think you and I are quite ready for what that might mean.

(Particularly with fusion winking at us from just the other side of this thing.)

We can list out some of the first-order consequences of a room temperature superconductor, if it turns out to be real. There's the incredibly cool levitating rail systems that everybody likes to talk about; the sudden dominance of renewable energy and zero-emission power sources; there's quantum computers, terahertz antennae, lossless power transmission, a near-apotheosis of battery technology. But that's nothing, not really. As the old phrase goes, anyone could have predicted the car, it's predicting the traffic jam that takes a genius.

I know (I think) that power is what states are made of; the revolution in speed saw the end of feudalism, itself already teetering from blows it took from other revolutions in industrialization, and the rise of modern democratic governments- and also the rise of fascist and communist autocracies, the titanic conflicts between them, the industrialization of murder. At the upper end of possibility, that's what these last couple weeks might mean too. To move an electron through a wire, without any loss of energy to heat, is to create new ideologies we can't anticipate, new theaters of war, new kinds of government, new global superpowers, new things for the word 'progress' to mean. An information revolution can help show you who you are; a revolution in power can give that image the force to change the world from the ground up.

Here's hoping we're ready for it.

#grab your butt and hold on

[romanoffsdarling]

The Devil Wears Prada || Part One

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader // Peter Parker x Fem!Reader 

Chapter Summary: Today is the big day of your job interview— where you’ll truly figure out who you’ll be working with— that could potentially set you on the track for your dream job. Will everything go according to plan?

Word Count: 3,477

Chapter Warnings: Some self-esteem hits (fashion industry).

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I’m super excited as TDWP is one of my all-time favorite movies. And, yes, Peter will be acting as the Nate in this series but will be more like book Nate than movie Nate (but he will also be his own character too, of course). Some of the dialogue comes from the script but I promise, as things deepen in a different way between you and Wanda, things will steadily shift. 

Series Masterlist

Streaks of gold, with the smallest undertones of the purest white and the lightest flecks of silver, filter in from the half-opened curtains of the medium-sized windows within the place you have called home for the last two years. The sounds of horns blaring, faint shrieks of ambulances, and the distant chatter of voices in the streets below, signify the daily life of the inhabitants of New York City was just beginning.

While the day, for you, would signify that you’d finally be on the right path to achieve the goals you’ve set out for since you were little.

“Are you sure this job is right for you, Y/N/N?” The teasing question comes from the open doorway of the small bathroom situated in your Manhattan apartment. Your gaze shifts from the mirror-- as you were checking your chosen outfit once more-- to the amused one of your boyfriends. Light brown eyes sparkle with flecks of gold as his toothbrush hangs haphazardly out of the side of his mouth; his next words were slightly garbled because of it. “I mean you’ve never been that fashion conscious before.”

Your lips upturn into a smile. “I’m well aware of that, Peter.” You return your attention back to the mirror. “But we both know that working for a magazine like Runway will only heighten my chances at being able to work at credible newspapers.”

Peter holds up his finger as he disappears from sight and the sound of him spitting into the sink, followed by the brief gargling of mouth wash, resounds across the apartment before he appears once more. His hands wipe down the legs of his sweatpants as he makes his way towards you. “I know that I’m just worried that this job won’t be everything you think it will be.” Nimble fingers come up to gently tuck a strand of errant hair out of your face when he halts in front of you. “I just want you to be safe, Y/N/N.”

Leaning into his touch, you place a soft kiss on his fingertips. “I think I’ll be able to manage a couple of models, Pete.” You step closer to rest your head on his chest for a brief hug; comforted by the sound of his strong heartbeat. “And your number is speed dial one if I need you for anything.”

He wraps his arms around your waist and gives a light squeeze in response. “Call me to tell me how it goes. And Y/N?” You tilt your head up to look into his sparkling gaze. “Make sure to show them all what a kickass assistant you’ll make.”

An amused laugh leaves your lips at his enthusiastic support. “I’ll make sure to remember that.” You glance down at your watch and wince at the time it shows. “But, if I want to make the subway, I have to leave now. I’ll make sure to fill you in, in person when we go out for drinks tonight.”

You’re already out the door as Peter yells out his response; the good humor in his voice never leaving. “I’ll hold you to that, Y/L/N.”

Runway Magazine wasn’t one you were truly familiar with. Though, to be fair, you weren’t familiar with that many magazines to begin with; it would be a better fit than Auto Universe at least.  You did, however, know how much money it seemed to be worth; a fact that’s hammered home as you pause outside of the Elias-Stark building. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the massive building that towers into the New York City skyline. 

It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, you observe with a small frown. Maybe I am out of my league with this one, but I wasn’t raised to be a quitter and I certainly won’t let a few insecurities ruin my chances for my dream career. 

Stepping into the building was like stepping into a whole other world. Various people flitting from corner to corner, racks of clothes being transported to undisclosed locations, and the amount of designer clothes mixed with the beauty of the people wearing them fills you with a sense of unease. You tug at the thick material of your sweater-- a deep blue one that Peter had gifted you a few months before-- as you stop by the security desk to get a visitor pass. 

“Y/N?” An accented voice calls from your right as the sound of heeled footsteps approach you. Offering a brief smile in thanks to the security guard that had just given you your pass, you turn your gaze to the approaching redhead. Was everyone in this place ridiculously attractive? 

Your inner thoughts fortunately don’t reflect on your face as the woman stops in front of you; an almost bored expression on her face as she looks you up and down. “HR does seem to have a sense of humor.” The redhead-- that you assume to be Natasha; from the phone call you had gotten detailing your appointment with her-- sniffs as she gestures for you to follow. “Okay, I was Wanda’s second assistant but her first recently got promoted. So, now I’m her first.”

You both pause as Natasha presses the up button for the elevator. Noting how stressed the redhead seemed to be you attempt to alleviate the heavy tension that was beginning to form. “So, you’re pretty much replacing yourself?”

The other woman side eyes you as she steps onto the lift-- forcing you to scramble in after her-- and only responds after she pushes the button for Floor 17. “I’m trying to do so, yes.”

A confused frown furrows your brow at that. She was trying to? What the hell does that mean? Am I only one that has applied for this job?

Seemingly knowing where you mind went to, Natasha explains in an airy, almost disinterested, voice. “Wanda sacked the last two girls after a few weeks.” Before you’re given the chance to respond, Natasha steps off the elevator as it arrives on the designated floor. Not even waiting to see if you were following, which you were, as she continues to explain. “You need to have a certain backbone to be able to thrive at Runway. I need--” She exhales sharply through her nose. “We need to find someone that can survive here. Do you understand?”

You nod sharply, narrowly avoid getting nailed by a frantic looking man, as you rush to keep up with Natasha. “Yes,” you agree, but a question pops into your mind that you needed to voice. “Who’s Wanda?”

Natasha halts, her head whipping around to stare at you with a widened gaze. “You didn’t just ask me that.” She exhales through her nose sharply once more before continuing her earlier trek through the bustling halls; once again forcing you to keep up. How the hell was she moving so fast in heels that big? “Wanda is the Editor-in-Chief of Runway, and a living legend within the fashion community. Work a year for her and you’ll be able to find a job at any magazine you could hope for.”

Exactly what I was hoping for. 

Opening a sleek glass door, Natasha leads you into a room with two desks facing one another-- on the outskirts of two other glass doors that lead into a much bigger office-- that you can guess is where the assistants reside throughout the day. Turning around, Natasha appraises you with sharp green eyes. “Millions of girls would kill for this job.”

You smile. “That sounds great, I’d love to be considered.”

The redhead’s brow furrows at that. “Y/N--” She pinches the bridge of her nose before continuing in a clearly strained voice. “Runway is a fashion magazine. An interest in fashion, beyond the base level, is crucial.”

Amusement flairs through you-- at least if you get this job, you’ll have one thing to brighten your day; see how worked up you could get Natasha-- as your smile remains. Although you adopt a faux innocent tone as you tilt your head. “What makes you think that I don’t have an interest in fashion?”

It was a question that you knew would raise Natasha’s hackles, which it does, but the retort dies on crimson-painted lips as she glances down at the beeping phone in her hand. Green eyes widen with horror as a gasp escapes her. “Oh, dear God. No, no, no, no.”

Confusion wells within you once more. Was this going to be a common occurrence? You not knowing what the hell was going on? “What’s wrong?”

Natahsa ignores you as she rushes to the desk on the left; her well-manicured nails quickly typing out a number on the desk-phone as she brings it to her ear. When it connects, she simply hisses out one statement before slamming it back down onto the receiver: “She’s on her way. Tell everyone.”

There seemed to be a moment of calm serenity before the office behind you burst into a frantic panic you’ve never seen before. People rushing back to their desk, women slipping out of sandals into heels, food getting thrown away, and various other things that flicker passed your gaze too quickly for you to notice. 

The next thing you know a sharply dressed man-- in a midnight blue suit-- walks into the room. “She was supposed to be coming in at nine. What the hell happened?” 

The clearly frazzled First Assistant runs a hand through her hair. “Her driver just messaged me. Apparently, her usual facialist ruptured a disk.” Standing, Natasha throws her hands into the air. “God! These people.”

What the absolute hell was happening? 

Shifting your weight, you finally garner the attention of the man who’s blue eyes shroud with confusion of his own. “Natasha, who is this?” 

The woman barely glances up from the documents on her desk as she waves her hand. “I don’t even want to talk about it.”

Seemingly not willing, or not having the time, to argue with Natasha, the man gives you one last glance before he pops his head into the hallway. “Man, your battle stations everyone!”

Even more chaos erupts at his words, but your gaze maintains its locked position on Natasha as she rushes into a side-door of the bullpen, reappearing a moment later with a tall glass and bottle of Pellegrino. Both of which she side-arms as she quickly takes the various magazines and newspapers into her free hand as she rushes into the bigger office. It seems that running was the normal walk within Runway. 

“You’re still here,” Natasha mutters, almost to herself, as she reappears to stand beside her desk. Her attention shifting for only a moment as the paper she was waiting for was finally done printing, which she instantly attached to her clipboard. “Go.”

Pushing off the chair you had been seated in-- was this really how this job interview was going to end-- an almost panicked look flashes across Natasha’s face before she waves you back down. “No, I don’t want you to pass her. We’ll just have to pray that she doesn’t notice you.”

Settling back down, you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. This was exactly like self-esteem camp. How quaint. 

So lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice that a quiet hush had fallen over the offices outside. A strained, yet professional, smile appearing on Natasha’s face as she disappeared from the room to meet the woman that had caused the commotion to begin with. You’re only keyed into her presence whenever her soft voice filters past your ears. 

“--- How hard is it to find a decent looking paramedic? Also, I need to see what Steve has called in for Gwenyth’s second cover try.”

Looking up, you’re met by the sight of gorgeous auburn-haired woman-- clothed in a form fitting white blouse, black pencil skirt, and black heels with red bottoms-- with an air of controlled disinterest as she tossed a black coat and purse onto Natasha’s desk. Said woman having followed dutifully behind her, jotting down notes, as the woman-- who you presume was Wanda-- spoke. 

As she enters her office, she calls softly over her shoulder. “Who is that?”

Natasha winces at the question-- seemingly hoping that Wanda would have been unobservant for once-- as she tries to come up with a proper response. “Nobody,” she replies, knowing that she would have to elaborate as that wouldn’t be a sufficient answer for Wanda. “Human resources sent her for the assistant job, and I was pre-interviewing her for you, but--”

Whatever Wanda does stops Natasha’s words in their tracks, but you don’t have to wonder for long as her smooth voice speaks up once more. “I’ll do it. The last two you sent me were complete disappointments.” There’s a brief moment of silence. “Send her in.”

A moment later Natasha appears and gestures for you to get up. “She’d like to see you.” Seemingly moving too slowly for the red heads liking she urges you forward. “Go on.”

Not needing to be told twice-- especially with the look Natasha was giving you-- the quick walk to Wanda’s office happens in record time as you stop in front of the modern desk. Trying not to look around too much at the chic design-- the space being perfectly clean, and the walls littered with pictures from designers you’d never be able to name-- but it was the woman seated behind the desk that truly drew you in. Her attention wasn’t on you, but you were certain she knew you were there, as she browses the magazine situated in front of her; deep auburn waves falling around her. 

“Who are you?” The question almost startles you; having gotten used to the silence, but you have a feeling that you shouldn’t keep the woman waiting for long. Especially not when her emerald eyes finally peer up from the papers and almost feel like they’re staring into your soul. 

You nervously place your resume on the desk in front of Wanda-- which she ignores-- as you introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” At the continued silence, you could feel your own nerves beginning to rise. “I recently graduated from--”

Wanda interrupts what would have undoubtedly been a rambling mess of a spiel. “What are you doing here?”

That seems easy enough. “I think that I could do a great job as your assistant and--”

Your words falter at the look Wanda bestows onto you; a part of yourself withering within you because of it. 

Not knowing what to do you begin talking. “I came to New York to become a journalist and I sent letters out to everyone. Elias-Stark gave me a call and Sherry detailed the opening in your department. Basically--” You sigh. “It was either this or Auto Universe.”

You want to die at the extent of your honesty, but Wanda seems to be taking it in. Maybe there was still a chance for you to get this job?

“So, you don’t read Runway?”

Strike One.

“No.”

Wanda raises a brow. “And, before today, you had never heard of me?”

Strike Two.

“No.”

“And you have no style or sense of fashion.”

Strike Three. You’re out.

“That depends on--”

A hard look flits over Wanda’s emerald gaze. “That wasn’t a question.”

Feeling desperate-- as this was the job that would open so many doors for you-- words tumble out of your mouth despite yourself. “I was Editor-in-Chief at the Daily Northwestern. I won a national competition for college journalists with a series on the janitor’s union--”

Wanda, seemingly having enough of you, holds up her hand. Her airy voice holding a whole new level of disinterest. “That’s all.”

The abruptness doesn’t stop your tirade, however. “That uncovered the exploitation of--”

The look Wanda pins you with could burn a hole through an iceberg, which really hammers in the point that you had just screwed up exponentially by trying to get this job. Feeling defeated, and a little downtrodden, you turn around and make your way to the door. Only to pause, well aware of the gaze still burning into you, as you turn back to meet it. 

“Okay, you’re right.” You gesture to your outfit as you keep your chin up. “I clearly don’t fit in here. I’m not glamorous or stick-level skinny and I don’t know much about fashion. But I’m smart, I learn fast, and I will work very hard.”

As your words peter out-- with some of your bravado fading-- Wanda simply stares impassively at you, not giving anything away, until the familiar male voice from earlier speaks up behind you. 

“We got the exclusive on the yellow Cavalli for Gwyneth, the one he showed with a huge, feathered headpiece, but she’ll look like she’s working the mainstage at the Golden Nugget, so instead--”

The man stops abruptly once he notices you, but you don’t pay him any mind as you offer Wanda a slight smile. “Thank you for your time.”

With that you exit the office as quickly as you can-- still feeling the effects of Wanda’s gaze on your body-- as you breathe a soft sigh through your nose. The job interview may not have gone as you wanted it to, but at least you stepped out of your comfort zone. 

Fortunately, the elevator ride down was quick, and you were alone-- leaving you to mope in your thoughts-- as you try to figure out where exactly everything had turned so wrong. It was those thoughts that plagued you as you gave back your visitor pass, offering a cordial goodbye, and made your way to the rolling doors of Elias-Stark. 

It was only the familiar accented voice calling from behind you that made you stop in your tracks. Your head whipping around to meet Natasha’s perturbed expression. She didn’t speak but the gesture for you to follow her was all that she needed to do. 

It seems that you had been able to do something right after all. 

“I still can’t believe you got a job at a fashion magazine,” Bucky murmurs, amusement dancing through his blue gaze. “Though, Wanda Maximoff is known for being unpredictable.”

You shake your head-- a fond smile curling your lips-- as you swat Peter’s hand away from encroaching on your fry territory. 

“Okay.” You shoot a glare towards Peter as he swiftly steals a fry, before turning your gaze back to Bucky. “How do you know who she is, and I don’t?”

Bucky grins. “I’m just more attuned with that sort of stuff than you, Y/N.”

A soft chuckle from Bucky’s right causes you to shift your gaze to amused brown. “That would make sense,” MJ teases. “It would explain a lot actually.”

Ignoring her teasing, he continues. “Seriously, Wanda is a big deal. She’s the youngest Editor-in-Chief in Runway history and doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.” He shrugs halfheartedly at you. “I’m sure millions of girls would kill for the job you have.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” You were told this mere hours ago. “But I’m not one of those girls.”

“Hey,” Peter smoothly interjects; popping, yet another, one of your fries into his mouth. “Everyone has to start from somewhere, right? I’m just a bus-boy pretty much, but I know that I’ll be able to get my chance if I just try hard enough. Plus, MJ does--” Peter waves his hand in the general direction of your shared friend before a frown furrows his brow. “What is it that you do at your gallery?”

“My job,” MJ replies cheekily. “But fry cook here is right, Y/N/N, everyone starts from somewhere.”

“Fortunately for me I already have my dream job.”

Three sets of eyes turn to look at Bucky. 

“You’re a corporate research analyst.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but I get free bagels on Tuesday’s and some booze at times. It totally rocks.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Bucky cracks. 

“You’re right my job is totally boring,” he sighs, but his jovial grin doesn’t slip from his face as he maintains eye contact with you. “At least you won’t be bored working for the Devil within the fashion industry.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, slinking back into your seat. “Lucky me.”

As your friends and boyfriend, continue to chatter around you can’t shake the memory of those burning green eyes. The way the light had reflected off of those auburn waves and the sheer command she had over a room without needing to raise her voice. 

You don’t know why but the idea that Wanda Maximoff was the Devil didn’t sit well with you, but you didn’t truly know her yet. 

Only time would tell... 

You just hope you were prepared for what it would bring. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagines #the devil wears prada #peter parker x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader

[banannabethchase]

for the hangman in a lab coat doing serious scientific sex experiments with matt as his test subject verse: adam wants to see what matt would look like double stuffed, i.e., they try double penetration with someone else

Greedy - also on AO3

~

Matt's finally ready to suggest his second Mox-related experiment, and Adam is so ready to take a back seat to his mad scientist boyfriend.

~

Thank you for this genius prompt, V!!! Title from Greedy by Ariana Grande.

~

Matt skips into the hotel room, throwing open the door without fanfare, like it hadn’t been a week since they’d seen each other, like he hadn’t been in California packing stuff up in his house to ship cross country to Adam’s. To their home. “I have an idea. An experiment idea.”

“You do?” Adam asks. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks up at Matt.

Who immediately goes pink.

“What?”

“I – forgot what I going to say.” Matt shuffles over to the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Adam says back. He smiles as Matt curls into him, treating him, essentially, as a mattress. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Matt sighs. “You pushed your glasses up your nose and it was cute.” He lifts his head and smiles at Adam, all sweet. “And then I remembered I get to, like, kiss you and keep you and whatever, and…” He trails off and flops back onto Adam’s chest.

“Lord,” Adam says. “You’re all gooey today.” He sets his book down and wraps his arms around Matt’s back. “Must have been the week apart.” He kisses the top of Matt’s head, reminding himself that he’ll get to have these moments every morning from now on. “Tell me what your idea is. I wanna hear.”

Matt hums. “Snuggles first.”

Snuggles turns into resting their eyes, and resting their eyes turns into sleep. Adam never sleeps as well as when Matt is playing weighted blanket on top of him, but it’s in the back of his mind as he drifts off to sleep that he never got an answer about Matt’s idea.

~

They’re in the middle of the venue, helping Tony with some organization, when Matt huffs.

“I have that stupid cowlick going,” he grumbles. “I seriously need you to get that hairbrush situation fixed.”

“Or, what if,” Adam says, moving a speaker where he’s been directed, “you could get your own damned hair brush.” He puts the speaker down and pulls out the cord, running it to the wall.

Matt sits on top of the speaker. “But then I don’t get to share yours.”

“More like you don’t get to have that tiny bit of extra space in your luggage.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt’s forehead. “Get up, come on. We have to get out of here before anybody comes over here and makes us do something else.”

The footsteps feel annoyingly appropriate, but Matt lights up as he jumps to his feet.

“You look so fucked up,” Mox says, looking Matt up and down. Adam stands. “Why do you look like you slept with a rock for a pillow?”

“Considering Adam’s pecs, that’s actually pretty accurate,” Matt retorts.

Adam snickers. “Thanks, babe.”

Mox chews his lollipop and looks Adam up and down. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, by the way.” He winks at Adam. “You looked great at that death match.” He runs his thumb along his lower lip, eyes locked on Adam’s mouth. “Sort of jealous you didn’t drink my blood in ours, but whatever.”

Matt clears his throat. “Well, we’re needed in the EVP room. Thing. With Tony.” He grabs Adam’s hand and drags him away at a speed that feels almost comical.

“What’s wrong with you?” Adam laughs. “We weren’t done with the speakers.”

“My idea,” Matt says. “What the eff. It’s like he can read my mind.”

“Read your – oh.” Adam gets it. “Oh, this is about that idea you keep talking about whenever I’m blowing you?” He slides his fingertips along Matt’s hip, sliding under his shirt. But, for the first time Adam can remember, it doesn’t distract Matt even a bit.

Matt nods. “I wanna ask him,” he says. “I, um. I really – I think it’s the right time, you know.” He bounces on his toes. “Do you think he’ll want to?”

“I think,” Adam says, stepping into Matt’s space until Matt’s pressed up against the wall, “you should say exactly what you want him to do.” He leans in, lips to Matt’s ear. “What you want both of us to do.”

Matt exhales slowly, deeply, intensely. “I want you – both – to…” He swallows, and Adam gears up to hear him say it. “I want you both to fuck me at the same time.”

Adam chuckles in Matt’s ear, licking his lips. “So it’s more than just a fantasy now,” he says. “You really want it?”

“I do,” Matt says. “Um. If you want it.”

Adam pulls back. “Say that again?”

“If you don’t want to, I get it,” Matt says. “I mean, having him, um, rail me when you came in afterwards was kind of different. I know that.” He presses his lips together, still managing to look cute when talking about being fucked by two men at once. “So I need to you to know that I’m okay if it it’s just a fantasy.” He grabs Adam’s hands, and looks so goddamned sincere with those gigantic eyes that Adam almost wants to drop to a knee now.

He does have the ring in his bag this time.

“So, just, I’m okay if it’s all talk,” Matt says, nodding. “I’m okay with it.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Do you think that I only want it to be talk?”

Matt shrugs. “I mentioned it to Kenny.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “You brought up our threesome to Kenny?”

“You know how he is,” Matt says, waving it off like that statement makes any sense at all. “He had a similar thing going a while back and told me to make sure you were entirely on board with it before bringing it to Mox’s attention.” He wrinkles his nose. “Apparently Kenny asked Nick before double checking with Kota and it all went really bad.”

“I mean, you brought it up to me months ago,” Adam says, and he finds himself playing with Matt’s hair, running silky locks through his fingertips. Mox was right, though. There’s a bunch of knots he slowly starts working through.  “And did I seem like I didn’t want to back then?”

“We had just finished having sex,” Matt says, like an explanation. “Sometimes we say things in a post orgasm haze that we don’t mean.”

“Like that one time you said you could see the appeal of the Undertaker, you mean.”

Matt frowns. “You promised me you would never bring that up.”

“No,” Adam says, “no, you told me to promise never to bring it up, and I told you I would save it for a time when it was appropriate for the situation, and here we are.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “You suck.”

“Says you,” Adam says, kissing his forehead. “Now, tell me again. Tell me exactly what you want so I can tell you I am so fucking into it I may have hidden extra lube in my checked bags every goddamned time we fly just in case you decide it’s time.”

Matt exhales slowly. “Really?”

Adam nods. “Really.”

Matt stands on his toes and kisses Adam with a fervor, hands wound around his neck and fingers in his hair. “I want it,” he gasps, against Adam’s lips. “But – but I wanna make sure you – that we all know I belong to you, in the end.”

Adam whines. “Fuck. Goddamnit, baby, you can’t say shit like that when we have a show to help run.” He leans in and kisses Matt as possessively as he can, trying to make sure Matt knows. He’s always Adam’s.

“Okay,” Matt says, looking dazed and floating when Adam pulls away. “We have to talk to Mox first, though.”

~

The opportunity comes later that night at the hotel, when Adam and Matt are stopping by the hotel restaurant for a late night snack.

“I just really want French fries,” Adam says, dragging Matt. “Come on.”

When they walk in, Mox has a plate of fries in front of him.

“Huh,” Adam says. “Look at that, baby.”

“You said you wanted French fries.”

Adam decides that he’s earned a bad idea, so he walks up to Mox and grabs a fry from the plate, popping it in his mouth.

“What the fuck?” Mox asks turning to him. Adam grins as he chews, Matt sliding around to Mox’s other side.

“Hey,” Adam says. “Matt has a question for you.”

Mox grins. “Oh. Anything like last time?”

“Similar,” Matt says, and Adam can’t help but notice the way he trails his fingertips along the back of Mox’s neck as he walks to his other side. “But it requires the two of you to be, like, cool with being near each other. More than last time.”

Mox leans back, which gives Adam the opportunity to take a few more fries. “Talk to me,” he says. “And stop fuckin’ eating my French fries, you dick.” He slaps Adam’s hand when he reaches out to grab another. “You two fucking suck, by the way.”

“We weren’t thinking sucking would be involved,” Matt says, hopping into the barstool. “Well, this time.”

“This time?” Mox asks, turning to Adam. “This becoming a thing?”

Adam shrugs. “Don’t ask me. This one’s all his idea.”

“I thought you were the experimenter or something.”

Adam frowns, and reaches out to take another fry. Mox doesn’t stop him. “My lab’s been taken over by a madman.”

“You have never once complained about my ideas,” Matt says. “Anyway, if you two will stop bitching, here’s what I’m thinking.”

Mox has to straight up slap his hand over Matt’s mouth at one point when the bartender is coming over to refill their waters.

“Baby, I love you,” Adam says, fighting back laughter, “but if you say ‘just get your dick in there and we’ll make it work’ in public like that, somebody eventually is going to leak that to a dirt sheet and people are going to start expecting very different pay per views.”

Matt’s eyes light up a little more than strictly necessary.

“Hard no,” Adam says firmly. He glances around, then leans in, over Mox. “I ain’t sharing you with anybody except for him. You’re mine.”

Matt’s eyes widen and he settles back into his seat. “So I shouldn’t bring up that thing I wanted to ask related to Claudio?”

Mox laughs so hard he slides off the barstool.

~

Wrestling’s a sport. Adam knows that. They train and focus, and Matt goes hard on exercises specifically researched to make him better at certain wrestling moves. But Adam has never seen anybody train the way Matt has the past few weeks for this particular event. They’d been messing around with Matt taking more and more for months, but since their conversation with Mox a few weeks before, things have gotten almost clinical.

They’re in bed, Adam on his back as Matt sinks down on him.

“I’m just saying,” Matt says, far too put together to be filled up by Adam, “I don’t think it’s possible for Mox to be bigger than this one.” His turned around the opposite direction from Adam. “Okay, go ahead.”

Adam grins. “You sure?” he asks. He touches around Matt’s hole gentle, giving soft, listless thrusts with his dick and a finger. “I can just keep this up as long as you want.”

Matt falls a little forward on his hands. “I – okay, always, but I’m really – I want to make sure I can handle this one, too.”

It takes a few minutes, some deep breathing from Matt, and Adam keeping his hips as still as possible, but Matt manages to take both Adam and the largest dildo they have in their collection.

“Fuck,” Adam says, staring. “I wish I could see your face, babe. But this view is out of this world.”

He keeps himself absolutely still as he slowly works the dildo in and out.

Matt exhales. “This – I feel –”

Adam freezes. “Are you okay?”

“This is incredible,” Matt says. “I don’t get – this…Adam, I may be obsessed with this.”

“Fucking awesome,” Adam murmurs. “Because I kind of am, too.”

He reaches around without moving his hips but can only get his fingertips along Matt’s cock.

“Oh,” Matt says, voice a whisper. “Oh, okay. Take the other – take the fake one out. I want you to really give it to me, okay?”

Truly, Adam has never said no to Matt.

~

Matt sprints into Adam’s bedroom, skidding to a stop right before crashing into his bed.

“Hey,” Adam says, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at my phone,” Matt says, throwing himself on the bed and shoving the phone into Adam’s face.

“Even cross eyed, I couldn’t read that,” Adam mutters. He bats at Matt’s hand until he pulls his hand back and Adam can grab the phone.

got a suite Tuesday nite til fridya morning if you two are in this week

“He spelled Friday wrong,” Adam says, frowning down at the phone. He looks back up at Matt. “Is that why you’re freaking out?”

“Don’t – focus, Adam!” Matt says. When Adam looks up, he can finally see how excited Matt is. “Mox got a suite! So we can do the whole two guys at once thing!” He does what Adam may have to consider the most charming happy dance he’s seen from Matt, something similar to when he’s being a particularly huge bitch in a match.

“Oh, shit,” Adam says. “Yeah. Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”

They go down on each other in Adam’s – in their, he’s still not used to it, it feels like a dream – laundry room, giggling, as they pack for the flight to Dynamite, and Adam is beginning to get worried he’s just as excited as Matt.

~

Matt is enthusiastic about everything the next few days. He gleefully takes his sneakers off for TSA, accepts the lack of diet Coke on the plane graciously, and doesn’t say a word when the Lyft is twenty minutes late and has a car that smells like four gallons of cologne. Even Adam’s barely kind enough not to bitch about it. Matt practically bounces his way to the hotel room and to the venue.

“You really are excited for tomorrow night, aren’t you?”

Matt nods fervently. “Also, I’ve had, like six coffees.”

“Six – when?!” Adam asks. He drops his things in the EVP room. “It’s two in the afternoon. When did you even have the time?!”

“When you went to talk to Silver and Reynolds,” Matt replies. He sits on the couch crosslegged, but still tapping his fingers rapidly. “Concessions had a bunch of coffee ready so I kept refilling.”

“There is something so deeply wrong with you, baby,” he laughs, kissing Matt’s forehead. “Chill out a little bit before we go do professional shit, okay? I don’t want you to get in trouble for being weird in public.”

“You like it when I’m weird in public,” Matt says, and his grin goes dangerous. “You really liked it when I was weird when you were doing camera for that one Mox match.”

Adam exhales slowly. “Yeah, but nobody knew you were there.”

“You did,” Matt says, grinning.

“You shouldn’t be so proud of that,” Adam says, kissing Matt’s forehead. “We risked getting fired.”

Matt shrugs. “Yeah, but we didn’t.”

Adam does a terrible job of paying attention to anything during Dynamite. He and the Bucks are backstage only, which means Matt is half in his lap as he studies the cameras and makes calls while Adam presses buttons at his command.

“I really hate how I have to do this now,” he mutters during a commercial. “What happened to me hanging out backstage?”

“We got back together and you got stuck with me,” Matt says. He’s half in Adam’s lap at this point.

“Yeah, and you two made it everybody’s problem,” Nick says, grinning as he mutes his mic. “Now shut up so I can cue music, you idiots.” He’s been in a much better mood for a while. Adam kind of wants to know why, but also thinks he shouldn’t dare to ask.

Adam follows instructions as best he can, but he really needs to talk to Tony about not doing this next time. Dynamite and Rampage finish smoothly, in Adam’s opinion, but Matt’s got some complaints as he drives back to the hotel, with Nick and Kenny in the back seats.

“I just think,” Matt continues, “that if we’re expected to communicate with all members of the roster, everybody should be given a company phone that actually works well, you know?”

“That’s great, Matt, but I asked if you wanted to get a Frosty,” Nick says.

~

Matt dives at him when they close the door to their hotel room, and it’s only reflexes that save Matt from falling to the floor. Adam grabs him at the ass and holds him up on instinct.

“You know well and good I can’t fuck you tonight if we’re going to see Mox tomorrow,” Adam says, dropping Matt on the bed.

He gets giant, miserable booboo eyes in response. “No, but you can suck my dick.” He flutters his eyelashes. “C’mon, I’ve been in such a good mood today.”

“Have you?” Adam asks. He kicks off his shoes and crawls onto the bed with a grin. “Didn’t you bitch at everyone you saw about the shitty company phones?”

“That wasn’t bitching! It was a companywide improvement recommendation!” Matt says as Adam’s hands go for his belt. Adam can feel he’s already hard.

“How are you always – you were rambling about chocolate vs peppermint Frostys, like, five minutes ago.”

“And?” Matt asks as Adam pulls down his pants. “Now I’m here.” He gestures to Adam. “Come on. How else am I ever gonna react when you’re in front of me?”

“Goddamnit,” Adam says with a sigh, eye level with Matt’s dick. “You’re being sweet. Now I have to suck your dick.”

~

“You nervous?” Adam asks, grinning down at Matt. They’ve got all their bags with them, since Mox as offered them to stay the night at the suite after it’s all said and done, and Adam’s just waiting for Matt to knock.

Matt swallows. “No.”

“Then knock.”

“You knock.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “It’s your idea.”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Matt says. “Aren’t you supposed to do what I want or something?”

Adam snorts. “Yeah, okay. Then we’ll be out here for hours, baby. It’s your fantasy.” He leans in and kisses across Matt’s cheekbone until his lips reach Matt’s ear. “And your experiment. Go ahead. Knock.”

Matt’s shaky and shivery when he knocks, but there’s not an ounce of hesitation as he does so.

Mox throws the door open a few moments later. “Hey, douchebags,” he says, grinning. “How are ya?”

“Good,” Matt says primly. “Can we come in?”

“Sure, baby,” Mox says, popping the lollipop back between his lips. Adam’s a bit entranced. Mox steps back and Adam follows Matt into the spacious suite. It really is large – an entire living area with a small kitchenette, giant TV. He can see the door to the bedroom open, revealing a giant bed.

“Get comfy,” Mox says, throwing himself on the couch. Adam watches how the pale washed denim stretches across strong thighs, how the Death Jitsu long sleeve tee stretches across his broad chest.

Adam swallows. Maybe he’s just as eager for this as Matt.

“Well,” Matt says. “I’m, um. Off to take a shower.” He brushes down his shirt. “I’ll see the two of you in a minute.”

He stops off, one of his bags in his hand, like he already owns the suite, his shirt flying behind him back into the living room.

“He always like that?” Mox asks, stretching out.

Adam nods. “Always.”

“Seems exhausting,” Mox says, grabbing the remote.

“Sure fuckin’ is,” Adam says, laughing. “Put on the show from last night. Matt was in charge of cameras and I want to see if he did a good job.”

The two of them watch the first match and two promos of Dynamite before they hear someone clear their throat, rather insistently, from the bedroom.

“You need something, princess?” Mox yells.

“Yeah,” Matt yells back. “It’s about time.”

“You just turned the shower off, so don’t get bitchy,” Adam calls, and he rolls his eyes at Mox.

Mox grins. “God, you two are gonna be so fun.”

Adam feels a chill wash down his body, a mix of anticipation and Mox’s words.

Matt, inexplicably, is dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of soft looking sweatpants. “Alright,” Matt says, stretching his arms out and tucking his hands behind his head. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Adam says. He can’t resist walking over and kissing Matt, just a little one, before stepping back to stand next to Mox.

Matt pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes darting from Adam to Mox. The attitude, the cockiness, starts to fall off of him like sheets of snow from a roof, revealing Matt’s pretty-eyed desire laid bare.

Nobody speaks. Mox and Adam stand next to each other, unmoving. Adam hates to admit it, but he wants to follow Mox’s lead on this one.

“Is – isn’t anybody gonna come over here?” Matt asks. He wiggles. “You’re just staring at me like – like you want to eat me alive or something.”

“That what you want?” Adam asks.

Matt presses his lips together, eyes flicking from Mox to Adam. “Not quite.”

“Yeah?” Mox asks. “Tell me what you’re looking for, Matt. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Matt exhales. “E-everything?”

“I want to hear every detail that you’re thinking off,” Mox says. His eyes flick to Adam, who nods. “Or else we’re not doing it.”

Matt nods. “Yeah, that – that’s fair. Gotta make sure we’re all in agreement.”

Adam laughs. “Baby, I love you so much, but you’re making our threesome sound like a business deal.”

“I mean, it kind of is,” Matt says, shrugging. “Only instead of credit cards, it’s dicks. And instead of a cash register, it’s me.” He flares red. “Oh, boy.”

“Did you just get turned on by talking about money?” Mox turns to Adam. “What the fuck is wrong with him?

“That’s the wrong question,” Adam says, and he walks over to the bed so he can smack roll Matt over and smack his ass. “The question is what isn’t wrong with him.”

“I am right here,” Matt grumbles, but he’s got a little smile on his lips.

“Tell ya what,” Mox says, falling into the chair. “How about you lay down on the bed and tell us while you touch yourself?” Mox pats the arm of the chair. “Come on over, Cowboy. Bet you’re used to riding.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.” But Adam walks over and makes himself comfortable on Mox’s lap, flinging a leg over the arm of the chair.

“You two are too big for that chair,” Matt says, licking his lips as he stares. “Way too big.”

“Is this anxiety coming through?” Adam asks. “Because if this is a metaphor –”

“Is not,” Matt scoffs. He takes off his shirt like he’s offended at the suggestion. “Mox, you don’t know this, but Adam and I have been practicing.”

Mox chuckles, a warm rumble on Adam’s back. “Practicing?”

“If that’s what they call it then we should be experts by now,” Adam mutters.

“Maybe not – oh – maybe not practicing, I guess, but I’ve been working myself up to this, and I have been able to take the biggest one we have with Adam,” Matt says. He seems cocky, proud of himself as he pulls down his sweatpants. He’s already hard, pretty red cock curving up toward his belly as he steps back and lays down on the bed. “I mean, not to be a dick, but you can’t be much bigger than that one, based on our previous encounter.”

“He always talk like that?” Mox asks, lips by Adam’s neck, and it is distracting as hell that his arch rival’s lips are brushing against his skin while his boyfriend is jerking off on the bed. “He really does make everything sound like a business meeting.”

“You get used to it,” Adam says, grinding back on Mox’s lap. He can play dirty, too. “You gotta lean into it. Treat it like a corporate role play or something.” He grins. “Baby, show Mox what happens when I call you Mr. Jackson.”

Matt exhales, entire body rolling as he fucks up into his fist. “That’s not fair,” he murmurs. “I’m trying to explain a fantasy here.”

“Then explain it,” Mox says. “We ain’t got all day.”

That is an absolute lie, and all three of them know it. Mox made sure this suite was available until 11am tomorrow for this exact reason, and yet Matt nods, turning his glassy eyes over to Mox and Adam.

“I want you both inside me at once,” he says, eyes locked onto Adam. “I want you both,” he pauses, and Adam knows he’s steadying himself to look at Mox when he says it, “to fuck me at the same time.”

“Yeah?” Mox says. He slides his hand into Adam’s lap. “Feels like the Cowboy’s into it.”

“You are, too, jackass,” Adam replies, rolling his ass against Mox’s hard cock. “Don’t get to uppity about it.

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Adam stands and pulls his shirt off over his head. “Matty, hands off.”

Matt takes his hand off his dick. “Why?”

He grins at Matt, then grins back at Mox. “We can’t let Mox get started here without a show, can we?”

“Oh!” Matt says. “Oh, sure. Yeah, I can do that.” He makes little grabby hands, and Adam wants to fuck him silly right now. But they have plans. “C’mere.”

Adam leans over Matt and kisses him deep, keeping his body away from Matt’s as he licks into his mouth, as he marks a few claims over Matt’s skin. Mox will share his body, sure. But Matt will always, always be Adam’s.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mox murmurs. Adam can hear rustling. “Look, you two both know you’re hot as hell, but this feels illegal to watch or something.” Adam thinks Mox has shucked all of his clothes. “Fuck.”

Adam slides his hand down Matt’s thigh and digs his fingers in the way he know gets Matt all whimpery, hiking his leg up. Matt drops his head back and moans.

“That one was on purpose, wasn’t it,” Mox says. Adam can hear his breathing. “Jesus Christ.”

Adam laughs. “Yeah. He’s good at being a pretty little performer.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt again, gently. “You ready, baby?”

Matt nods, determination in his eyes. “I got this.”

“Pretty little performer,” Adam repeated, voice no more than a murmur as he brushes Matt’s hair from his eyes. “One set of eyes on you isn’t enough, is it? You need two people all over you.”

Matt whines like he’s trying to get more contact.

“You want him over here too?” Adam asks. He bites at Matt’s neck. “Can’t get enough. Greedy son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Matt pants. “Greedy. Want both of you. C’mon.”

Adam feels the mattress dip as Mox sits on the bed next to Matt. “Pretty little thing,” he says. “Just wants to be used, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Adam pulls back to see Matt’s chest heaving. “One dick’s not enough for him. He’s gotta be split open by two.”

Matt whines. “This is fun and all, but I really, really want to get railed now, okay?”

“You know that’s not actually what you want,” Mox says. “Say what you actually want.”

Matt flames red. “I want you two inside of me at once.”

“That’s better,” Adam says. He grabs Matt by the hip and flips him over. “But first, we gotta get you ready.”

“I got an idea,” Mox says. He slides down the bed and palms at Matt’s ass. “You like getting eaten out?”

Adam rolls his eyes at how Matt immediately shifts so his ass is on display. “Yes,” he deadpans. “Yes, he does.”

“Cool,” Mox says, and he dives in.

Adam’s never gotten to see Matt’s face when somebody’s tongue is in his ass, but it’s almost as desperate and open as when he’s getting fucked.

“You like that?” Adam asks.

“Yes,” Matt hisses. “Yes, I – oh my god.”

“Tongue’s not just good for talking, huh?” Adam says. He leans in and kisses Matt, awkward as their faces are pressed into the mattress, but Matt doesn’t seem too upset about it.

Mox makes sloppy, slurping noises, eager and goal oriented, and Adam’s got no choice but to rip off his pants and stroke his dick about it.

“Please?” Matt asks, fluttering his eyelashes.

“No,” Adam says. “You have to wait. I’m not putting my dick in your mouth when you specifically asked for it in your ass.”

Matt pouts for a second, then gasps. “Oh, Mox, right there.”

“Yeah?” Mox says, and his beard is shimmering with spit. “There?”

Matt nods. “I can take another finger, c’mon.”

“When’d that happen?” Adam asks. He’s not confused, exactly. But.

“About a minute ago, when you were fucking around with him,” Mox says. “He took it so pretty, too.”

Adam can tell when Mox adds another finger by Matt’s face.

“You use the –”

“What do you think I am, an amateur?” Mox asks. He picks up the bottle, already with a sizeable amount missing, and wiggles it with his free hand. “Of course I used lube.” He must do something interesting with his fingers because Matt gasps. “Didn’t I, Matt?”

Matt nods. “Okay, this is fun, whatever, but this has been too much teasing.” He grabs at Adam’s arm until Adam falls so he’s half slumped on the pillows. “Get in me.”

“You are not ready,” Mox says. “Like, maybe for one.”

“Exactly,” Matt says, and he swings a leg over Adam’s hips and sinks down on Adam’s cock so fast it’s almost impossible. Matt exhales so deeply and so thoroughly it’s like he’s surfacing from a riptide. “There we go.” He rocks a little, like he’s getting used to the size of Adam. “Okay. Mox, go ahead.”

Adam and Mox meet eyes over Matt’s shoulders, and Adam sees his befuddlement mirrored in Mox’s eyes.

“When the fuck did you get the idea you’re in charge?” Mox asks. “And, no, hold on.”

“A finger, obviously,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “Come on. You want in on this, right?” He rolls his hips masterfully and Adam can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. “You really want to wait?”

Mox bites his lip. “Jesus. You’re a fucking terror.”

“Isn’t he?” Adam says. “It’s great until it isn’t.”

Matt shrugs, throwing his hair over his shoulder. It slaps Mox in the face, but Matt doesn’t seem to even notice. He rolls his hips again.

“You gotta quit that, baby, or this’ll be over way too soon,” Adam says.

“Quick on the draw, Cowboy?”

“You shut the fuck up,” Adam says, glaring at Mox. “Nobody asked you.”

“Pretty sure your boyfriend asked me.”

“Would you two stop the measuring contest and start competing to see, like, who can fuck me better?” Matt asks. “Jesus. I thought I was the most annoying person in this room.”

“I hate it when you’re self-aware and still manage to insult me,” Adam says, but he leans up to pull Matt for a kiss.

He gasps into Matt’s mouth when he feels something brush up against the base of his dick and then alongside of it. Mox’s finger is careful, tentative, but such an unbelievable shift of experience that Adam might get addicted if he’s not careful.

“That’s – oh,” Matt says, shifting. “Okay. Yeah, that’s a lot.”

“Thought you could take Adam and the other dildo or whatever.”

“The dildo doesn’t move on its own, and it isn’t attached to a big, annoying bitch,” Matt retorts.

There’s a smack and Matt grins, eyes rolling back in his head.

“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought,” Mox grumbles.

It takes ages. Mox is incredibly meticulous, Adam is still and concentrated, and Matt, bitchy and demanding as ever, doesn’t let up the litany of complaints and demands for more.

Finally, after what seems like years, Mox is set up behind Matt, his thighs spread over Adam’s as he presses along Matt’s back.

“Are you ready?” Mox asks. “If there’s any problems –”

“There won’t be,” Matt promises.

“Matt,” Adam says, grabbing his face and turning him to look into Adam’s eyes.

Matt nods. “I’ll say. I promise.”

“Good boy.” He yanks Matt down for one last kiss. “He ready, Mox?”

“I think so.” Adam’s never seen such concentration written on Mox’s brow before. “Alright, Matt?”

“Do it,” Matt says, punctuating with a deep exhale.

Adam drops against the headboard as he feels the blunt head of Mox’s cock slide in next to him. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes.

Matt braces his hands on Adam’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Adam reaches up, brushes his knuckles against Matt’s cheek. “You okay?”

Matt nods. “Just – it’s so much.”

“In a good way?” Mox asks, voice tight.

“An amazing way,” Matt says. He wiggles his hips and Adam feels – fucking hell, he can feel Mox’s cock rub up against his. “Oh, this is great.”

“Do you want me to move?” Mox asks.

“Yes,” Adam and Matt say at the same time.

Mox chuckles. “Don’t have to be so eager for it, you two.” Adam can’t see much but Mox’s face, but he can feel when he pulls his hips back then pushes in further. Matt whines. “Okay, mostly you.” Mox leans in and pulls Matt’s hair back from his face. “Taking two at once like the best hole there is.”

Matt whines, dropping his head. “I wanna move,” he says, “I – but I can’t. I feel – this is –” He cuts off as Mox pulls just a little further back. “Oh, god, I can’t do anything.”

“Is that a good thing?” Adam asks. He glances down and Matt’s leaking like a broken faucet, still hard as a rock.

“It’s amazing,” Matt says, “like – like I have to – like I can’t – it’s up to you two.” Adam can tell he’s trying to say something else but can’t get the words out, so Adam twitches his hips just the tiniest bit and both Matt and Mox yelp.

“Goddamnit, Cowboy,” Mox growls. “Get your hips back on the bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Adam says, but he does, as slow as he can, settle his hips back down flat. Matt’s eyes roll back.

“I – Mox,” he says. “Move. Do – please?”

It’s not like how he’s used to it, with Matt. Mox keeps adding lube when he pulls out and it’s getting everywhere, and Matt’s hands stay on Adam’s chest, arms, stomach, bracing himself and digging in nails. It’s slow. It’s intentional. And it’s incredible.

“I’m so proud of you, Matty,” Adam murmurs, and he reaches down to stroke at Matt’s cock. “Look at you. I knew you could do it, but I didn’t – you’re so good at this.”

Matt’s eyes flutter shut at the praise. “Yeah, I knew I could, too.”

Mox snorts. “The fuck have I gotten myself into…”

“Matt, obviously,” Adam replies, stroking Matt with the end goal in sight.

Something about the phrase does it for Matt, and he comes with a whimper, quiet for the first time of his life, as he paints Adam’s chest and stomach. The way he clenches around Mox and Adam, tight and hot and – fuck. Adam’s not even done much, but he needs it.

“Matt, you okay if I…?”

“Yes,” Matt says to Mox. Adam feels like he’s being tormented, still and powerless as he waits.

Mox rolls his hips gently, the head of his cock catching against Adam’s, and Adam can barely handle it. It’s taking more restraint than he knew he had not to go wild. Instead, he swipes at the come on his chest and offers messy fingers to Matt, who takes them into his mouth eagerly.

“I hate how hot you two are,” Mox grumbles, voice tight. But then he grunts and Adam feels his dick pulse against his own as he gently, slowly, rocks his hips. The press against Adam’s dick, the feeling of Mox’s come next to him inside of Matt. He didn’t think he was that close, but, then again, there was once a time where he didn’t think he’d be with Matt again, either.

He closes his eyes and has to force his hips still. “I’m – oh, god, I can’t – I want to, but I can’t –”

“Are we accidentally edging you?” Matt giggles. He tilts his hips back and Adam feels Mox slip his softening dick out.

“Yes,” Adam answers. “Matty, please, I have to…” He can’t even speak. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he knows how close he is, how badly he needs to come.

“Are you begging me?” Matt asks, and Adam opens his eyes to see Matt on top of his, grinning and gleeful. “Is this a role reversal?”

Adam wraps an arm behind Matt’s back and flips them, slamming Matt to the mattress. His dick is painfully hard, he’s so close. “Can I fuck you?” he asks before sliding back into Matt. He knows Matt might be sore, sensitive, not able to do anything further. He hovers, as still as he can get himself. He knows he might have to find some other way to get off. But he has to. He can’t wait anymore.

“Please fuck me,” Matt says, eyes soft, and Adam dives back in.

He can feel Mox’s come around his cock like last time, easing the glide, and it’s over in seconds. He lets out a hoarse cry as he buries himself deep inside of Matt, adding to Mox’s mess, dropping down on shaking elbows.

He feels a hand on his back, calloused and huge. “Damn, man.”

Adam lifts his head. “Hmm?”

“That was some fucking wild restraint,” Mox says. He rolls to the side of the bed, laying next to Matt and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ve never seen anybody simultaneously out of his fucking mind and steady in my life.”

Adam shrugs, still breathing heavily. “Not gonna hurt him,” Adam mutters, dropping his head back down. It’s too much work to keep it up. “Never gonna hurt him again, if I can help it.”

Matt sighs and runs his fingers through Adam’s hair. “Love you, too.”

Mox groans. “How did double penetration turn fucking tender? I hate both of you.”

“You do not,” Adam says, and he finally can steady his muscles enough to pull out of Matt at the slowest pace possible, his cock stinging with oversensitivity. He falls to the side with open arms and Matt dives into them, clamoring onto Adam’s chest like an eager starfish. Mox scoots in to fill the space, lining his body against Adam’s.

“Hey,” Mox says. “You good?”

Adam nods, sleepy but sated. “Different than I expected. You’re a bitch even when your cock’s next to mine. I’m surprised.”

Mox shrugs. “Meeting the energy of the room, you could say.”

Matt lifts a weak arm and flips Mox off.

They lay like that, cozy and quiet, for some time. Adam finds his mind wiped, his body tired, and his anxiety gone. There’s not enough energy left in him to feel it. He trails fingers up and down Matt’s spine, knuckles along Mox’s chest. It’s almost too comfortable. He might need to find an excuse to do something like this again, just to reach this feeling afterwards where things feel this comfortably blank. He’ll start thinking up experiments when he has enough brain power to remember his own name.

When he hears little snuffles he thinks Matt’s fallen asleep, which would mean waking him up which is always unpleasant. He exchanges a little smile with Mox, who raises an eyebrow. Adam shrugs.

A few moments later, Matt finally stirs and sits up.

“So,” he says, smiling a little sleepy but with light in his eyes. “How do the two of you feel about spitroasting?”

“Can we recover from the first threesome first and then talk about the next one?” Adam asks, pulling Matt’s hair away from his face. “The king of one track minds, I swear.”

“There’s a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom,” Mox offers. “Speaking of recovery, you know.” He tucks some of Matt’s hair behind his ear, gentler than Adam expected. “You’re gonna be sore for a while, babe.”

Matt turns a little pinker.

“You just called him babe,” Adam says, and he hears laughter in his voice. “Be careful. That’s how the two of us ended up together the first time.”

Mox stands up and stretches. Adam’s no longer above watching that scarred, beautiful body as it moves, lean muscles under decorated skin. He figures fucking his boyfriend alongside Mox makes all boundaries disappear. “I’ll hear that story someday, I’m sure,” he mutters. “But let’s go check out that jacuzzi.”

~

Mini Playlist: Greedy - Ariana Grande 3 - Britney Spears FUCK - Snow Wife Your Wish Is My Command - Kim Petras

#HangMatt #HangMoxMatt #Heheheheheheheheheh #scissormedaddyass #I hope you like it Vera!!!!! #wtf i like wrestling now??? #in which sara writes #anxious millennial dreamboat #Matt Attrackson #madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley

[oldestenemy]

Finally back in Polaris and alone with their thoughts, the wizard stops in the cave of broken land. Tusk clutched in one hand, they slide down the stone wall to the ground. They don’t want to stop. Stopping means thinking. Thinking means having to face the reminder of what’s at stake now.

They don’t have time to worry about their own self.

There is too much else to save.

But…

Is it getting worse?

They think it’s getting worse.

What is your name?

They search for the sounds, the syllables, the letters, there’s nothing there.

They try to remember how it had sounded when Sylvia Drake said it in Darkmoor.

They try to remember seeing it appear in the Book of Secrets all those years ago.

Or even inscribed upon the rune when they had retrieved the sword of kings.

Nothing.

A blank space.

A gaping hole.

They are the Wizard.

Savior of the Spiral.

Liege of the Falling Sky.

Now it feels even as though their voice is fading out. Maybe it is simply that people are unwilling to listen, but it feels as though everything they try to push for that goes beyond the bounds of their quest falls on deaf ears. Everything that goes beyond the path laid out for them. They let out a slow sigh, head tipping back with a dull thunk against the cave. They need to go Raven soon. They need to have a talk. It’s long overdue by now.

But not now. More caves to delve into.

More information to prize from the dirt.

They push back to their feet with a groan, wondering how it is they can feel so exhausted and so full to bursting with energy at the same time. It’s not good energy, it’s like a shivering under their skin, a buzzing behind their eyes. It doesn’t matter. Onward.

The next cave—this one of the shattered sky—proves to speed the necessity of their talking along.

“Ancient Secrets are hidden here, young one.” Raven’s voice is audible here like it is when standing before her perch in Hrundle Fjord. Sounding inside and outside their head as she chides their curiosity like it is unfounded, like it is baseless. As she questions what it is they are seeking.

How dare she.

How dare she.

“You can’t discern the truth of my intent?” The wizard says slowly, staring down the squat form of Raven, knowing she is doing it on purpose, this guise of harmless old bird. “Is that why you decided to trap me in Nidavellir? To try and hand me to the Arachnae? To force my path where you wanted it?”

“Fight me not, child of Myth.” And there is a moment where her voice booms through the cavern, where the room goes dark and starry and the wizard feels the ground start to vanish beneath their boots. But it fades in an instant. “Mark my words well, use this knowledge for the good of the spiral and I will continue to offer you my blessing. But dare to do the spiral harm and my wrath will find you.”

And she’s gone.

The wizard sways a little where they stand, footing still off from the momentary vanishing of the world around them. They lift the next tusk from its place forgotten in the dirt.

Just a little more. The cave of sundered seam. The last piece.

Keep going.

Keep pushing on.

Their head is swimming.

Had Raven just—

Had she threatened them?

All this time, just a voice in their head and a bird on a limb and a tug towards their goal but—

—Could she hurt them?

Without even being near, she is always with them, could the presence that places her in their mind be used to unravel their whole existence? They are sure it’s her taking their name. Causing the quieting of their voice. That she’s the one behind the disappearance of every instance.

Does she mean to rip them from the Spiral entirely if they go against her?

Breathe.

“Hrum…”

The wizard turns towards the deep rumbling click of fangs, knowing from the way it hits their ears who they will see. “Have you come to threaten me too?”

“How far have you fallen, Child of Light and Shadow, to find yourself in this cold cave with naught but old bones and ghost stories?” Old Cob is no less unsettling now than he had been on Khrysalis. But that means he is no more frightening either. Progenitor Deity or not, they are not afraid of him. “Here I thought you had earned a vacation…”

They laugh, “A vacation? I had four months, didn’t I? To let you and your children sink your teeth into the Spiral?” Four months. Four months of rebuilding the academy, of trying not to think about Duncan being missing, of trying to heal from the end of the war and of Morganthe and from the end—again—of Malistaire Drake.

“Would you not be happier still basking in the warm waters of the Wizard City Commons?”

“I should have let you rot in the black hole.” They spit, unsurprised when he reacts with that low rumbling laugh.

“Waste no further time here, wizard. This endeavor is not worth your pursuit.”

And like Raven he is gone.

Though with less intensity.

Less conflict.

The wizard lifts the last tusk out of the dirt, and starts the trek back to the world door.

Read the whole series here <3

#wizard101 #wizard101 fic #wizard101 fanfic #wizard101 fanfiction #w101 #lark is still playing funky wizard game from their childhood #i have a writeblr for this but shh #last one tonight i promise #but i just cannot wait

[freakingoutthesquares]

PULP. 'His -n- Hers' album photo.

The Worx Studios. King’s Cross. London.

Shot: October 5, 1993.

Contact for print sales : [email protected]

All Photos: ©Kevin Westenberg. All Rights Reserved.

From Kevin Westenberg's FB: HERE

PULP. Cover shot for ‘His-n-Hers’ album. Finally got around to creating a master version of this photograph. Back in 1993 in the heat and general chaos of the moment, there would have been one print made as part of all the original photo print choices made by the band and management. At that time, there was no way to have known that this image would be the one chosen to be illustrated for the cover of their upcoming album. This hero version all came about because Jarvis contacted me to ask if it can be used as part of their background visuals for the current tour, which is a great honour. Looking forward to seeing the now reformed PULP play all the hits at Finsbury Park for the first time in 25 years this Saturday July 1, 2023. Will be a great moment to remember as opposed to the drunken 90’s! This time I’ll be clean and sober.

The backstory: In the spirit of those times during the London of the 1990’s, I felt compelled to post a hot shot from one of my early photo sessions with Pulp. The story goes that this particular shoot was mainly for press. Out of the blue some months later I was told one of the shots was going to be used as the cover for the ‘His-n-Hers’ album. To be an Illustrated version by Philip Castle. The album was released on 18 April 1994 by Island Records. It proved to be the band's breakthrough album, reaching number nine on the UK Albums Chart, and was nominated for the 1994 Mercury Music Prize. In 1998, Q Magazine readers voted it the seventieth greatest album of all time, while it was placed at number 110 in the book Virgin All-Time Top 1000 Albums. Of course when the photos were taken, we all had no idea what a brilliant success the album would be so it’s a tad embarrassing in hindsight how primitive my contribution was. Technically, it’s just above beginner lighting. Hard light which was all I knew back then. Fortunately most everyone was young then so it kind of worked. The other reality of every situation in those inkie days was that speed was the main driving force of success. Keep it moving at any cost! It was only when that process went wrong, and it did spectacularly, that everything eventually changed for the better. The PR firm Savage & Best were behind both this commission and my initial shoot for ‘Intro-The Gift Recordings’, released in October of 1993 right about the time of this shoot. Between them, the press and all the bands of the era we all made a great team somehow, which burned brightly for just a short period and then flamed out. R.I.P. Steve Mackey. Photo: ©Kevin Westenberg.

#kevinwestenberg #realfilmrealwestenberg #pulp #1990’s #britpop #nme #cover #jarviscocker #england #uk #photography #paris #olympiatheatre #twilight #nolights #nofilter #notripod #bw #mamiya #trix #portrait #rockandroll #love #life #happiness #filmsnotdead #classic #photos #russell senior #jarvis cocker

[oneday-i-will-fight-luke17]

🎃  Close Your Eyes, Dying flower🎃 

🎃 this is a Halloween story (18+)🎃 

🎃 dark!Eddie Munson x F!Reader🎃

 MINORS DNI

🎃 A/N: This is my first story in years, it's a long read and feels a bit rushed but I'm pretty proud of it. I spend months working on this story I hope you all like it. Was Supposed to be a one-part story but part 2 coming soon

Summary: You and Eddie have been friends since childhood, but ends when he shuts you out and starts dating Chrissy cunningham. you believe there's a deeper meaning.

word count: 8k

TW: 18+ Angst dark theme, Language, blood, fluff (at the end), someone being attacked, flashbacks, toxic father. the theme gets darker as it goes on. mention of deaths of un-named characters (Let me know if I missed anything) a little unedited

First, it started off with the small things “sorry y/n I can’t hang out tonight Chrissy and I have plans.” you Breathe deeply this was the 2nd time this week that Eddie canceled on you. “Oh okay, I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow?” you asked with hope.

“Yeah we can do that.” a small smile formed on your face there was still hope. “okay” there was an awkward pause. “Um, I'll see you then.” Eddie said nothing else just a simple “bye.” 

“By-“ the line went dead before the words came out, you cleared your throat trying to rid the knot that was in it. Moments went by sitting on the couch watching the news about another missing person, and you realized you didn't ask what time.

When Saturday rolled around you made your way to his trailer knowing it was okay to show up unannounced. friends since 8 his home was your 2nd and the same with yours

he spends more time at your home than his own not wanting to be alone because his uncle worked late sometimes. You too unseparated conjoined at the hip as your mom would say 

 At this point, you were able to read each other's minds so you thought. 

you give a light knock hearing chatter, giggling and thuds coming from the inside, you stood there for 5 minutes before knocking again this time harder. you instantly hear silence the thudding come closer to the door as you watch the nob jiggle a few times before it swings open, you couldn't help it to jump back scared a bit only calming down when you see the shaggy hair man opening the door. he was out of breath sweaty and shirtless. “hey, w-” he cut himself off trying to catch his breath, swallowing hard before finishing “what are you doing here?” he asked looking confused. 

You were a bit hurt at the fact that he forgot about today's plans with you but quickly pushed it to the side. “Oh I just came to pick up the book I left here a few weeks ago” you lied through your teeth, Eddie looked perplexed not remembering seeing any school books laying around but his own.

“oh, ill look.” he closed the door back hearing bits of talking coming from the open window on the side where his room was. you only realized later that someone was in there. you waited patiently wishing he would let you in like he always does, it made you feel like a stranger.  He came back with a shirt on this time “emptying handed “ sorry, Y/n/n, don't see it “ “wha-” you cut him off. “that's fine” you backed away trying to find a fast exit “I probably have it home and just misplaced it.” That didn't make sense but you jumped on your bike anyway speeding down the road. Eddie closed the door only to realize that he made plans with you today. he swung open the door to call after you but you were nowhere in sight. 

Then it all hit at once, he stop talking to you and stopped answering you all together “Hey, Eddie.” you said cheerfully with a small wave as he walk past hand and hand with Chrissy, But he didn’t see you at least that’s what you hoped. You haven't seen spoke or him in 3 weeks since that day at the trailer park, you started eating alone at lunch, there was never any room at your usual seat since Eddie introduced Chrissy to everyone from hellfire club. 

Your mom started to ask where Eddie was. “Oh, he got a job so he's been busy.” You lied for some reason, you told her.

 she didn't have to make extra food for dinner. after a while she stopped asking, making it all too real for you.

The day he told you he asked Chrissy out you were confused, he never expressed he was into the girl before. He always thought the popular kids were all self-centered assholes and you couldn’t agree more, so what changed?

“Since when you're into Chrissy Cummings?” He looked at you for a minute, which made you feel bad for even asking, it wasn’t really your business. “The same reason you were into Eric Scott,” He said, stuffing more food into his mouth. You didn’t know where that came from but you made it into a joke “ Okay you got me there.” You laughed but he didn’t join in. He got up to put his dishes into the sink.

You didn’t know why he was being so secretive about his relationship with Chrissy he wasn’t with his short-term ones, he told you everything from the sex to the non-stop fighting, every little detail he told you. 

You didn't find out about Chrissy until about a month into the relationship. 

When DnD night rolled around  Dustin took the courtesy to inform you “Hey, y/n you're coming tonight right?” He asked you you frowned. “coming. to. what. tonight?” inch out each word hoping he would fill in the blank, You smiled but still frowned “To play DnD… duh” he cut his eye at Mike. “Since you missed the last few games.’’ 

 “What?” You looked between the two boys confused “Yeah, it’s tonight” Dustin didn’t catch the hurt and confusion in your voice, racing thoughts going across your mind and face “the last few games Chrissy has taken your place.” Panic ran to your core making you feel sick when you heard that. Did he replace you? That can't be true not your best friend he wouldn’t do that.

You didn't hear a word Dustin said only catching the end “ She's not a bad player, she’s pretty fun.” He smiled thinking about the soft blond. “Dude.” Mike finally intervenes.

“I’ll catch you guys tonight.” You quickly said speed walking away from the pair. 

He wouldn’t do that right? you're his best friend, conjoint at the hip your mom would always say since forever you thought. Maybe he thought you were busy? no, you thought he was cutting you off does he realize his doing it? You had this battle with yourself for weeks now unable to have a real clear thought without Eddie clouding it. he was eating at your brain nonstop and he doesn't even know it, the love of your life lives carefree fuck free without the thought of you in his mind while he plagued yours.

=

you hesitated to open the door hearing shouts coming from the other end, you had this battle all day and it all added up to this moment you couldn't help this feeling of not being wanted there was a few time you felt like this when your dad left, 

You couldn't help to think about those things when Eric Scott lost a bet and had to ask you out and humiliated you when going for the first kiss on a date “Ew, I can't keep this up” he push himself back rolling away from you. “what?” You were confused “did you really fucking think I was into you?” Dread washed over you, you knew it was all too good to be true. stupid stupid stupid you repeated to yourself. Snickering made you come back to reality, people were watching you. You turn to leave the ring but bummed into something hard, looking up it was Eddie “Are you okay?” he asked, holding both sides of your face blocking you from the world, you allowed yourself to break, tears quickly growing in your eyes almost falling to your knees. Eddie grabbed you, helping you sit down. “I wanna go home, I wanna go home.” you repeated people walked by haggling you, making kiss faces you cried harder “fuck off!” Eddie shouted.

he looked up watching Eric laughing with his friend's hand and hand with his girlfriend before walking away. “FUCK THIS” Eddie grunted through his teeth jumping up and making his way to the unaware boy his feet hit the floor hard enough to sound like bass of the music itself. you cleaned your eyes barely calming down, glimpsing around for your best friend into you heard a shout “GET OFF OF HIM.” GET OFF OF HIM YOU FUCKING PSYCOPATH.” You looked up seeing people were no longer Snickering and pointing at you but looking behind you, you whipped your head to the sound. You searched into your eyes and landed on Eddie punching Eric. 

His head flew back hitting it the floor below him. he tried to push him off, putting his hand in Eddie’s face. But regretted it when he bit him, Eric hollered in pain. Eric's girlfriend screamed hitting Eddie on the back. You kick the skates off and started running into the forming crowd pushing past people trying to get to your best friend. 

You looked back seeing Justin and the rest of Eric's friends re-entering the building. 

Panicked rushed over you, and started moving faster to get to him. You drop to the floor crawling finding gaps to get to Eddie faster making some people fall along the way “Sorry.” not sure if it rushed any ears finally getting to reaching him.

You grabbed him trying to pull him off the boy but failing and falling on your ass, you hear shouting coming from the other side of the crowd knowing Justin and the others are getting closer and are coming to not fight fair. You jumped on Eddie’s back “Eddie.” You whined out, tears slowly speeding back up, you wouldn’t know what to do if he got hurt defending you.“We have to go.” You cried out but still went unnoticed Eddies face was red and hot when you touched it. “Eddie, please stop.” You sobbed lips hitting the shell of his ear, you watched the boy below him bloody. That’s when Eddie stopped mid-punch. You wrapped your arms around his torso, finally feeling him breathe for the first time. “We have to go,” you said again pulling him by his vast but that barely did anything. Eddie stood full height slowly backing away with your pulls watching Eric cough up blood. Justin made it to his friend, his eyes widened at the harm, and his wilded eyes met Eddies.  “COME ON.” You pulled, Eddie saluted Justin and smiled he stumbled a bit from your pulling. 

“Your fucking dead Munson!” Justin was hot on his tail but got closed off by the people to see the damage and to see what was going on. You and Eddie slipped past with ease running to the van and jumping in. speeding off hearing shouting and glass hitting and breaking against the van.

Neither of you said anything you relaxed a bit but the fear soon rolled in when you got back to eddies place.

When you both made it to the safety of Eddie’s home it all sits and you begin to freak out 

You started to breathe heavily, tears blurred your vision. You were so focused on trying to hide your fear you didn’t know Eddie noticed.

 “Hey,” Eddie said softly, coming near you and resting his hands on your shoulders bending a bit. looking into your eyes “no one is coming to hurt me or lock me up, okay?” he already knows what was running through your mind.  “but you don't know that.” you cried out, finally letting your tears fall. 

“They, won't I promise,” he said sitting next to you pulling you into his side. You cried silently to yourself, Eddie rested his head on yours bringing a hand up to rest on your head playing with a few stands, “are you okay?” you asked barely in a whisper. Eddie chuckled a bit. “I should be asking you that.” he put his hand on your forehead. You hmmed a bit but didn't answer him at first “I'm okay” you finally said he signed  “ I know your not, tell me babe” He whispered. You didn't miss the way your heart jumped at the pet name. “I don't know, it's stupid I should have known better. You played with your fingers. “It's not stupid, what he did was wrong.” he swallowed hard feeling the anger coming back and putting his head back. 

You lay back as well resting your head on Eddie’s lap looking at the demi light hitting the ceiling.  “But I should have known better.” That Eddie could agree with, you should have known better not because he’s a popular guy but because he is the popular guy that makes fun of people like you and him endless teasing. And the way that eric treats other women he didn't want that for you, especially the ones that he sees below him.

You laughed a little, making Eddie look down at you. “Why would anyone like me?” you asked yourself, not knowing you said it out loud. Into Eddie spoke up “I like you.” he smiled to himself. “Not like that Eddie.” You whispered sadly, “No one is going to like the town freak, I'm not a cheerleader, I’m, not Chrissy Cunningham,” you said in a humorless laugh. “She has it all” you finished “I wonder what her dad is like.” you thought out loud again. “Is he a bastard like mine or does he love her.” this was the first time you said anything about your dad in years he was surprised.

“The imagination really, sets you up for failure.” your breath was shaky “ God I can't believe I thought he was different.” How so? Eddie asked already knowing the answer.

  “I don't know.” you didn't want to talk about it anymore, unable to find the words to explain the feeling of being loved to only learn it wasn't real you knew that all too well. Because right now all you were feeling was false hope “I just thought everything would be perfect. Like what the fast kiss would feel like” you said so low Eddie barely heard it.  He knew what you were getting at.

Eddie watched the tears build with the reflection of the light, hating the fact that someone has called you so much hurt he felt that when you cried for days about your dad. He knew it himself about his own parents…. rejected.

 “Don’t let him make you feel that way.” He said feeling his cold rings rest on the side of your face and turning your head to meet his big doe eyes. He lightly stroked your cheek. Tear finally falling from your eyes, he whipped them. “So what you've never been asked out or never been kissed.” he said studying your face, he opened and closed his mouth as if he was going to say something but stopped. 

“That's why you don’t go out with people that have two first names.” he joked earring a genuine laugh from you and wiping your tears. “There she is” He smiled leaning down and kissing your forehead.

You and Eddie fail a sleep like that.

Days went on you waited anxiously for the cops to come for Eddie but no one came. 

turns out that Eric had bought drugs from Eddie and didn't want to ruin his ‘good boy’ image if Eddie got locked up and the truth somehow came out, “see I told you.” Eddie gives you a shit-eating grin. You chewed Eddie out after you learn what he was doing in the woods after school.

Times are different now you thought now it felt like you didn't know him anymore and he never knew you, you kind of wish it was true it would save you from this feeling. 

you heard loud shouts coming from the inside that made you decide altogether. unlocked your bike getting ready to jump on and ride away 

“Y/N, hey. You turn to see Lucas and Max approaching you “Hey,” you smiled warmly “You finally made it.” pain pinged in your chest everyone thought you just didn't want to come anymore. “Wait are you leaving?” Max asked looking at the bike in your hand. You followed her eye to the bike “No.” you lied, cursing yourself. “My.” you stop to get your story straight  “The bike lock isn't working and I was trying to figure out what was wrong with it.” 

“Aw, don’t worry about it just bring it in,” Lucas suggested max agreed you nodded giving a tight smile. 

They both walk to the door opening it for you “Hey, Look who we found outside” Max yelled in everyone looked at you walking in “oh my god, you came.” Jeff yelled jumping up and meeting you halfway, you couldn't help to smile and laugh as he pick you up making you drop your bike and spinning you around. “ I missed you too.” You giggled he put you down picking up your bike “where have you been?” Gareth asked 

You were about to answer when you locked eyes with Eddie's in that moment it felt like you were the only two in the room. He smiled a little and it felt like your heart bloomed making you feel alive again all your pain, hurt and anger seem to disappear you felt relief for the first time in weeks it felt like hope, and you smiled back.

He broke contact when the blonde grabbed his arm and wrapped herself around him. He smiled big at her as if she was the only thing in the world to him, with that the feeling in your chest disappeared you looked away taking your stuff off and talking to the others 

Once everyone settled you had nowhere to sit your spot was next to Eddie in past games but was occupied by Chrissy. “Any more chairs?” you asked looking around 

Eddie frowned “your staying?” he asked you stopped in your track “Yeah.” you laughed out 

“Were too far in Vecna’s cures to introduce new characters,” Eddie said, his face was unreadable. “that's fine I can play my usual role.” you want back looking for a chair behind the pile. “No,” he said with demand “What?” you were confused at his coldness to you “ I gave Chrissy your role.” everyone's heads shot to Eddie. “You what?” You asked feeling your body warm with heat

“You didn't show up for the past few games.” He said with a blank stare, Who was this you were talking to this wasn't your best friend you were looking at  “ that's because you didn't tell me about those games.” you stood your ground

“I shouldn't have to tell you about schedules .” he leaned on the table he wasn't making any sense but was trying to make a point

“Which You didn't bother to give me.” You talked over him. “Y/n,” He sighed. “Eddie,” you said folding your arms.

The other watched as if you and Eddie were in a heated tennis match

He stood back to his full height chuckling to himself he knew you weren't giving up that easy. “like I said we are too far into the storyline to add a new character,” 

“What is your problem?” you ask finally at your breaking point with him. “Nothing.” He said with a blank stare.

“Did I do something to you?” You tried to hide the hurt in your voice. You know you didn't do anything to Eddie you just want to see if that would push him over the edge, and he’ll tell you the truth you continue before he can answer “ first it the barely answering my calls, to not don't hanging out, to ignoring me completely in public, now this.” your breath was shaky

Your word vomiting was getting to him his face turned red and started to breath heavy “maybe it's because I can’t stand fucking being around you.” he said with anger and hate. That shut you up, that feeling again, that feeling you felt so many times before but this one was worse. Tears blurred your vision. You waited for him to take it back but he never did. It felt like you were stabbed in the heart, and heat rose to your ears. “Oh wow.” You couldn't hide your shaky voice as tears rolled down your face, he really meant that you thought. 

The room was quiet, everyone was shocked at his Outburst. in all your years of knowing Eddie he has never gotten angry to the point of yelling at you. You may fight and debate but never to the point of never hurting each other's feelings. 

You were blinded by emotions not thinking straight, you want to grab your stuff making your way to your bike, and out the door, “You’re an ass you know that.” Erica said once you made your way outside Before you heard the others shouting from the other side.

You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. You felt lost just as you did when your father left, but this felt different this was pain.

The feeling of rain brought you back to Reality. You put your stuff on trying your best to not end up sick. Tears blind your vision, clumsy wrapping the scarf around your neck. 

The light rain fell a bit heavier when you made your way down the road, leaving Eddie once again this time it felt like for good. 

Once you made it home, you were freezing but too far away to care you wet the floors as you made your way to your bedroom. Luckily your mom wasn't home to scold you about it and about being out late with a possible killer being on the loses, But only wishing she was. hoping it will be dry when she got home. 

 you got straight into bed wanting the day to end, passing out soaking the sheet as you fall harder. Lightly hearing the phone ring in the distance, too exhausted to answer it you let go letting another tear roll down your cheek before shutting the world out the ring finally stopped.

=

The sun peck through the curtains waking you, still in the same position as the night before. You lay there pleased with the peace of first waking up, into last night's events filled your mind again. Your vision blurred your heart sank further. This feeling you dread, you fight back tears but the pain only grows worse A knock snapped you back to reality “hey, kid.” Your mom enter, and you dragged your face across the bed wiping the unfalling tears from your eyes. “You're going to be late for school” She reminded you. You only nodded, she turned to leave closing the door behind her. But to only re-enter “Did you fall asleep with your clothes on?” She asked. “Yeah I was tired after I got in late from hanging out with Eddie last night.” you half lied, setting up. you wouldn't necessarily call it hanging out. You didnt know what hell to call it, you didnt know a lot these days you thought. 

“M'kay, but try not to do that it'll probably be a while before I can get you some more.” She reminded you. “Sorry, mom I forgot.” She gives you a reassuring smile before walking out. Your biggest supporter, only wanting the best for you sacrificing so much for you. Held you when you cried over your father, she held it together. But yet you shut her out, lying to her for weeks about what's going on between you and Eddie. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth, feeling if you do it be true no longer in your head. The guilt set in, and your tears rolled down your cheeks. Too much was hitting you at once. You finally made your way into the bathroom ready to get this day over with. 

When you made it to school you made sure to avoid everyone as best you could skipping lunch, and trading sits so you could sit at the back of the class so you wouldn’t sit in the middle of Gareth and Jeff. 

Weeks want by you come home later and later not wanting to be alone with your thoughts. Taking on Small tutoring jobs to keep your mind off things when you weren’t doing your own studies, spending hours on them it semi kept you grounded 

Packing your things up and ready to head home, you looked around one last time making sure your mess is clean so Mr. Quinn won't have more work to do. “You heading out?” “This early” you turned When you heard Mr. Quinn. You looked at your watch striking “10:49 this was early for these days “Yeah, I have an exam in the morning” you smiled, putting your backpack on. “all right.” “be safe out there kid, I’ll see you tomorrow” “see you tomorrow” You walked backward before turning around heading out. The cold air hit you as it did every night making sure you buddle up well so you won't get sick again. 

You hopped on your bike like you did every day and made your way down the road. Light rain softly hit you “Fuck.” You swear. Nowhere near home, you knew you were going to get sick again. You push harder to try to make it home faster speeding down the road something knocks the wind out of you calling you to fall to the ground hard. You were dazed blinking a few times from the ground meeting your head, slowly getting up stumbling a bit to grab your bike from the other side of the road. Your body burned with body aches as you bind down.

Stopping in your tracks when you heard noise from the woods balls ring in your head that something knocked you off and not you just falling. Not wanting to stay around you tried to jump back on your bike to only see big long deep cuts on your leg, blood poured out making you feel faint. The same sounds made you look back into the woods this time growling. You tried to get back on your bike wincing in pain and falling off again. You looked towards the woods, seeing glowing eyes in the leaves. Your heart race getting up a final time looking back at the woods hopping on the bike shakenly making your way down the road, looking back you see a dark mask making its way to you. You screamed as you were knocked back off feeling cold but hot on your arm looking down and seeing more long deep cuts in it. 

The rain fell harder as your world went dark.

Bright lights blind you through your lids. you heard voices all around but couldn’t make them out “I’m sorry, we don't know what's going you with your daughter” you heard. A loud sob broke out, who is that you thought? “What attacked her?” “what kind of animal could do this?” they asked again. You recognize the voice it was your mom, you tried to call out to her but nothing come out your throat was dried and hurting. “We don't know.” was all the man could say “So what now,” She asked through her tears “Just spend the little time she has left with her.” She cried harder tears ran down your face why is she crying? You tried to speak again but you were stopped again in pain. “Oh, baby.” You felt soft hands grab yours. She kissed them. Her voice sound faded you blinked out. You don't know how long but when you come back she was still talking.

“Who did this to you?” “What happened?” I don't know mom you thought you could feel your throat getting tight preparing to cry. Into last night events ran through your mind again making you panic and making you jerk hard, you felt a pain on your side. “Dr. Drew!” your mom got up yelling.

 You couldn't stop your body from moving  You heard footsteps enter the room “WHAT'S HAPPING.” your mom screamed, “WHY IS SHE BLEEDING FROM THE EYES.” Your mom shrieked. “ GET HER THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” The doctor said You felt small, far away, everyone sound like they were at a distance. You could hear your mother crying, you tried to talk again but still nothing, making you panic even more. You scream but nothing, you could feel yourself fade in and out. Am I dying you thought, is this what you heard? They were talking about you. You could hear your hollow breath, heartbeat reaching your ears. You faded out one last time. 

=

Feeling coldness on your face, you could hear a voice getting closer. “I’m so sorry.” someone whispered “I don't know if you can hear me.” you heard a sniff. “But I want you to know.” the words were breaking up as the tears grow thicker. “I. Love. you.” They broke down. Feeling dried lips on the side of your face, Eddie? you thought. He rubbed your face kissing you again. Eddie, I’m here. I can hear you, I love you too you cried out. You tried to move but nothing you felt trapped. 

He looked over your sickly body, he watch as your veins swell and pulsate unnaturally under your skin your eyes looked sunken. he watches sweat and black blood pour off your body tubes down your throat, you breathe fast as if you were panting.

You don't know how long you were like that, but you listen. He talked from your childhood to know. “God.” He sighs. He stopped for a bit.“ This all my fault.” He broke the silence. This is not your fault you said to him, this is no one's fault.

 He continued, but he started to sound far away. Not again, he fades in and out. You started to panic, pain rose up in your body and you jerked again. Making him stop, he got up. 

The monitors want off, your mom ran back into the room. “SHE’S HAVING ANOTHER ATTACK” she yelled back in the hall the nurses ran in the doctors close behind. “What's going on?” Eddie asked in a panic. Your mom pulled him to the side and explain to him in tears about the violent attacks that's been happening every few hours, and whatever attacked you poison you and its been slowly killing you. He drown out whatever else your mom said, his heart raced his blood ran cold. You were dying, he slowly back out of the room running down the hall, hearing your mom call after him, he knew what was going on.

=

Later that night he made his way back to the hospital, leaving in a hurry he couldn't control himself this time, holding so much in he didnt want to hurt anyone. He lightly touches your mom's arm, making her look up. She smiled a little. happy to see him back, she looks back at you. “I've been so scared to leave her.” She whispered, catching a tear and wiping it away.  Eddie didnt want her to leave the room but she had to it was the only way for him to save you. He took the spot next to your mom, he didn't know how long he sat like that. 

just watching you. 

He knew he fucked up, and if this work you’ll probably wake up hating him for how he treated you. A sound coming from your mother's stomach dragged him from his thoughts. He chuckled looking her way she did the same. “You should probably get some food.” He told her. She shooked her head.” I can’t leave her.” she shifted back, resting her head on her hand. “It will probably do you some good to get out of the room for a bit.” He suggested, she smiled not letting it reach her eyes. “It's okay, I'll be with her,” he added. “You're not going to let up are you?” She asked He shook his head, she sighed letting her legs fall to the floor. “Okay.” She got up hooking her purse over her shoulder. Looking over her at you before walking out.  Eddie watches as she went down the hall disappearing. He got up closed the blinds and shut the door.

 As another attack was coming.

He walked to the side of your bed, taking the heart monitor off your finger and putting it on his own. resting his hand on your cheek has you jerked. “Hey can you hear me?” he asked in another low whisper feeling like he was redoing from hours before, he rubbed your face. Wiping the blood coming from your eyes. “It's okay, I'm here, calm down.” he kissed your cheek  “I'm going to fix this.” “I promise.” he finished. 

There was a pause, there was nothing. Only end when you felt pain ring through your body again but this was different. Your world slowed down, it felt like you were floating, and you couldn't help but laugh.  '' What's so funny?”  Eddie asked, smiling, taking the blunt from you. “Nothing.” you giggled “God your high as a kite.” he laughed, “Told you it wasn’t so bad.” he continued. “And here you were losing your shit about me smoking. Now look at you.” he pats your arm. “Hey, I wasn’t talking about you smoking it I was talking about you selling it.” You closed your eyes lying back. “At least you can get weed for free now.” He laughed. “Tell me how dilated are my pupils?” you asked scooting closer to him. He laughed harder this time. “What?” you asked “I can't  see them if you don't open your eyes dummy.” He said trying to catch his breath. “Stop” You whine, smacking his leg. “Okay, okay.” he giggled. “Open them.” He leaned in.

When you did there was nothing you were met with darkness. You started to panic  “Eddie!” you screamed out. “Where are you!” He sound far away, you looked around. Water at your feet. You started running, You could hear him but he was still far away. You kept going it felt like hours but you can hear he was getting closer. “I’m here.” it sounds like you were right on him when pain took over and you fell to the hollow wet floor. “It will be over soon,” He said. You cried and screamed this was worst then before you closed your eyes. 

Brightness took over and you reopen them you blinked a few times trying to adjust to the bright light. The room was white, you closed them again. “ Hey, don’t close them on me, dummy.” You heard someone say. You looked to your right seeing Eddie looking right at you. He smiled “There go those big eyes.” He breathed out in relief. You tried to speck but was stopped only realizing that there was a tube in your throat. You reach up weakly trying to pull it out but Eddie stopped you, calming you before slipping the monitor back onto your finger. Your mom walked back in the room specking “hey did Dr. Drew come bac-” She stopped dropping her food   “Oh My God” “Oh My God” she repeated “ Shes awake” she yelled out of the room before rushing to your side. 

Nurses rushed into the room shocked at the fact you were a wake Dr.Drew not too long after “Holy shit” he breathe out. Just as shocked, just hours before you were at death's door. He rushed to your side as well. In all the chaos you couldn't take your eyes off of Eddie, confused you didnt know why he was here.  As a matter of fact, you couldn’t remember anything 

You spend days trying to piece together what happened, you remembered leaving the library but that’s it. You even asked your mom but she was just as confused, only saying that could have been the next victim to the killer that’s been hunting Hawkins for months now but no one was sure since no one was found dead or alive.

Given your wounds and odd sickness the doctor thinks you were actually attacked by a sick wolf, but for some reason that didn’t sit right with you. 

You asked Eddie, but he brushed it off not knowing himself, and was just as lost. You couldn’t help the fact that Eddied's behavior was unreadable. He seemed like his normal self but something was off like he knew more than what he was leading on, but you chalked it up to the fight that you two had and he just didn't know how to talk about it with you. You couldn’t blame him you felt the same way, (it was your first ever real fight), or was it something else…. 

Eddie knew more than what he was saying, He saw what attacked you he knew all too well. he saw it when your blood hit his tongue that night you woke up, it rush through him like wind it almost knocked him off his feet. It’s what he craved for every given day it's all he thought about the taste of you on his tongue. He couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t show you his true self he couldn’t hurt you… right? 

He prayed that you won't remember, you didn’t need to. You needed a normal life he struggle with the thought for days. But it needed to be without him.

He watched your smile slowly disappear. “ What’s wrong?”  You asked watching him closely, he could see fear and panic take over, he looked away he hates seeing you like this he had seen it come and go many times before and too many times these past few months. “I-” He stopped himself, and he breathe. He looked nervous, you smiled a little, this was the Eddie you knew. Open willing to tell you everything, but you were still in the dark about his acts. It's still like you know a stranger. For the first few days, it was strange waking up to him by your side. You couldn't stop looking at him, a feared he’ll disappear. You watched him carefully afraid if you made the wrong move he’ll run away. It's only been a few hours since you been back home and he barely said anything to you, you felt guilty that he was stuck watching you while your mom ran errands. 

He could be with her.  

“Do you remember anything from that night?” He asked looking back at you from the tv that showed more people have been going missing. 

For the umpteen time “No.” You mumbled, feeling your blood boil, Annoyed with yourself for not remembering. “Why do you keep asking me that?” You frowned trying to hide being upset. “No reason at all.” He rubbed his hands together giving a quick fake smile looking around the room not looking at you. You knew he was lying. “ What, are you a cop or something?” You joked he smiled looking back at the tv leaning on his hand. You both set like that for a while, he couldn’t find the words to tell you how much he felt. “ Do you remember anything from the Hospital Before waking up?” He broke the silence 

You thought for a bit “I remember.” You stopped, thinking again “I remember some things, I know everything sounded far away,” You said in a small voice trying not to cry you didn’t wait the trapped feeling to come back, you thought you were going to be trapped there forever.

He got up from his spot sitting next to you pulling you into a gentle hug “There was so much pain.” You sobbed. “And I heard you and my, my mom’ and I was screaming out for you both but I couldn’t.” This was the first time in years he has seen you cry, he wish he never asked he didnt want to make you upset but that's all he was doing these days making you upset. Eddie held you tightly kissing your head “I’m sorry.” He said in between each kiss, he wish he could take your pain away. You didn’t ask why was he saying sorry, you didn’t want to. You didn’t want this to end “You know I love you right?” He sniffed “Yah,” you gave a weak smile “You're my best friend.” Just in the blank of an eye, you forgot the last few months right there looking into Eddie’s eyes. 

He sighed. you shift uncomfortably in your sit. not because of pain but because you didnt want to read the room wrong and make him uncomfortable and run off again ” Not like that.” You didnt know what he was on about. He pulled away looking at you. You watched him anxious fearing that you messed up. You hesitantly wiped his tears, he did the same to you. You couldn’t help to smile. he slowly dragged his thumb down your cheek, looking at every line ever mark on your face he didn’t want to forget them. He had to tell you how he felt he couldn't drag this out anymore he was running out of time.

He slowly leaned in. he could feel you tensing up, his lips hovered over yours before connecting. his lips were soft on yours, Eddie could do this forever, this is where he belonged.  

It hit you, you pulled away you avoided his reaction not wanting to see him hurt. “What is this?” you didn’t know what you were asking. “What are we doing?” You mat his eyes   “I never wanted to hurt you, I just wanted to protect you.” He let out. “ Protected me?” You ask bewildered at his words “Protected me from what Eddie?” You asked worried now, you searched in his eyes for answers. “I.” He stopped himself “I can't tell you” He sound defected. He reached for your face before you could say anything, You pulled away.

“Please.” tears filled your eyes. “ Just tell me what's going on.” you asked again “you’ve Been acting weird for months now.” you finished. Again Eddie didn't say anything, he didn’t want your last time together to end like this “Please, I just Want you to know I love you.” He whispered more to himself. He stretched for your face again but you pulled away. His hand closes into a fist, knuckles turning white. “Don't.” He breathes out, “Don’t what Eddie?” You were pissed now. “Don’t you have a girlfriend,” you asked coldly, you didn't know where this was coming from but your heart was crying out. “Don't.” He said repeated “Don't bring up the fact you have a girlfriend? Or at the fact that  it had to take me to almost die for you to talk to me.” You tried to calm yourself, the anger was making you vibrate calling you pain. 

“But your barley doing that are you?” You tried to catch the sob that come out. You tired to move away from him but hurting your leg in the process. “She's not my girlfriend.” He boomed making you jump calling you to hurt your whole body you winced. 

Eddied jumped to your side again looking you over making sure you didnt make any wounds open up. “What do you mean she, 's not your girlfriend?” You tired to easy the pain running though your body, attempting to look into his eyes. He looked away he couldn’t lie to you looking into your eyes. He can feel himself drifting away he was losing control. He stood up, he didnt what it to end like this. He couldn't let it, but he was running out of time. He thought about all the things he wasn’t able to find words for. 

He quickly kneed down taking in your lips again putting his all in, he wasn't able to find the words but he could show you, right? You melted far this time, this kiss was different than the last one. Eddie longed for this kiss for years and he never notice it but this was what he wanted if only he could turn back time and do things differently.

This is what you wanted for the longest, you and Eddie. You wanted to be the one by his side, not the one watching. You want him to be your everything. “Just tell me what your thinking.” You said lowly against his lips. He landed another light kiss and started to back away, his mind was feeling clouded this was wrong he shouldn't be doing this to you. His leading you on, hes leaving you forever so why was he doing this? He needed to end this right here right now so you could move on, so why wasn't he doing it? his mind was saying another but his body was doing another. He wishes he could take back the kiss but he was being greedy and it will only end up hurting you more. He's famous for only thinking about himself not caring for you, taking your first kiss, and running away after. He spends so much time running lovers off from you, what gives him the right to move on and not you? End this now he was screaming at himself, he was so deep in thought that he didnt know you were talking to him.

“It was a good bye kiss.” He said looking down, why was he saying this? This is not what he wanted to say. “What?” You were confused by all of this. “I'm sorry,” he said, running his hands through his hair and face, getting impatient with himself. “This will be the last time you'll see me.” He got up from his spot on the floor, you tried to do the same from the couch but failed and fell back down. “Eddie what's happing to you?” you askerd looking him over, you didnt know this person in front of you. This wasn't your Eddie, he wasn't making any sense, and he was aware of that. This time getting up grabbing a better hold of the walker. “Where are you going?” you questioned. He didnt say anything “God Eddie why are you being like this?” you cried out. He still wasn't saying, it was like he was in a trance. “Eddie?” You called out, you called out once again “just know, everything I have done was to protect you.” He whispered. 

“From what?” you cried out harder, he looked at you, and you gazed harder into his eye seeing something strange in them, you moved to look closer  but he moved away fast, reaching for his things “Don't run away from me.” You begged “you've been doing this for months ever since you got with her, it's like I don't know you anymore.” your voice cracked, and he stopped in his place he knows this, and that hurts him but he has his reasons. Pain ran through his body, he needed to go he had to get his thoughts together, he wasn't thinking straight. If he stays longer it might end bad, he can not live with himself if something happens to you or if he calls it himself.  

You waited for him to say something before you continued “Every since you started dating Chrissy Cunningham you've been acting beyond weird. you went over this so many time in your head but still couldn't pieces together what was going on. Before he could stop himself he was on you kissing you again, making you fall back on the couch. She winced in pain but it was long forgotten. Eddie didnt know what to do, what was he doing? He was leaving so how did he end up back attached to you, He tried to pull away but the more he tried the more he hugged you. It's like he was stuck to you. He was gentle and slow like he was saving every moment, he touched you softly as if you would break. His hands gradually move along your body, his every move had you in a trance. 

Eddie started to move faster and became rough in a blink of an eye. It was like a switch turned off, he grabbed at you hard you could feel your stitches pulling and wound pull apart you cried out, but that didnt stop him “Your. hurting. me” You tried to breathe through the pain.  “Stop” you pushed at him, an unhuman growl rattled you. You panicked pushing him harder with the little strength you had. He was grabbing a bitting at your skin. “Stop!”  you shrieked. He jumped back looking around confused and crazed look on his face out of breath. “What's wrong with you?” you asked. He was still baffled “Eddie?” he looked back at you, eyes slowly looking down seeing your top slowly turn red. “Please talk to me.” you haven't noticed it yourself only foucseing on him. 

He jump up from his spot whispering to himself, you were lost in his actions you didn’t say a word you just watch him scared. 

This wasn't the Eddie you knew. 

You slowly got up making your way attending to do so, moving slowly to him lightly touching him. “Eddied .” you called out as if he was a scared bird, Eddie you called out one last time before he whipped around at you “ DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” he screamed at you. once again sounding inhuman like a beast, proving that it wasn't in your head earlier. His face was veiny his eyes were hollow black. you jumped back almost falling,  he quickly moved from you before making a b-line to the door opening it taking off his favorite ring putting it down. Looking over his shoulder. “ Goodbye. y/n” his face slowly turned back to normal before walking out.

You were hot on his heels not caring about the pain that run through your body, limping out into the darkness the moonlight pouring down on you. you winced in pain. “Eddie,” you called, 

You watch him make his way to his van, trying to move faster but only falling. “Eddie, please don't leave me.” you cried, he stopped at the door before looking back he looked as if he wanted to say something but he never did with that he jumped in the van leaving you there crying. “Eddie! please!” you drugged yourself across the grass.

“Eddie!” you watch him go further into the distance. “Eddie, please don't leave me.” You sobbed out.

 just like that, he was gone. 

rain began to pour. 

You let out another blood-curdling scream in pain before everything went black. 

You were alone again. 

#dark!eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #dark!eddie munson x you #dark stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #halloween fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn character #dark!eddie munson fluff #dark!stranger things #dark!stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie x y/n #dark!eddie x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #dark eddie munson #dark eddie munson oneshot #stranger things one shot #dark stranger things oneshot #eddie munson x black!reader

[princess-of-the-corner]

Kingdom Hearts II: Final Mix Recap: 100 Acre Wood (Balloon Bounce)

Upon entering the book, the Torn Page becomes Kanga’s house.

Pooh and Piglet are already there, but Pooh still doesn’t remember Sora.

Fortunately, Kanga (Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree) is already up to speed on Pooh’s condition, thanks to Eeyore, and got some medicine for him.

Then Tigger comes bouncing up (actually singing his iconic song), mistakenly believes the bottle of medicine is a gift for him, and bounces off with it (again, singing his iconic song).

Roo bounces off after him to try and get it back.

You can explore Kanga’s house (but only the exterior), chat with the NPC’s, but you gotta talk to Tigger to progress the story.

“You’re saying Pooh even forgot about ME!?” Tigger exclaims.

“Yes, Tigger,” Piglet replies.

“That bottle you thought was a present was medicine to make Pooh better,” Sora explains.

“Aw, who needs medicine!?” Tigger asks, “Why, some tiggeriffic bouncing will jog his memory for sure!”

Tigger then proceeds to bounce around the gathered group.

“Well, Pooh?”

“That looks like fun, Somebody-I-Don’t-Know,” Pooh answers.

“Nothing huh, hmm…” Tigger ponders, “Of course! We all gotta bounce together! That’ll do the trick!”

Welcome to Balloon Bounce!

You need to pop the target number of balloons within the time limit.

Time your bounce on the trampoline with the Reaction Button to bounce super high.

Ditto for the balloons.

Blue balloons are worth less points than green balloons (which are larger).

You only need to bounce on 10 balloons to progress the story. You need 2,000 points for the Journal mission.

Your first attempt automatically ends on the 10th balloon popped.

“I bet you remember me now, don’t you buddy-bear!” Tigger remarks.

“Well, I remember that bouncing always makes me hungry,” Pooh replies.

The way they animate Tigger’s shocked reaction is great, although it only lasts for a second before he slouches in disappointment.

“All that bouncin’ and he still doesn’t remember me?” Tigger laments, “Well then, I guess bouncin’s not the answer.” He turns around. “It makes a Tigger almost never wanna bounce again…”

Tigger just tosses the medicine bottle over his shoulder.

“Oh, please be careful with that,” Piglet begs as it lands at his and Pooh’s feet.

“Aw, sorry little Piglet…” Tigger apologizes, “but Pooh not rememberin’ me has me confuzled. I don’t even feel like bouncin’!”

“Oh, but Tigger,” Pooh replies, “I always thought that bouncing was what Tiggers did best.”

Tigger immediately lights up.

“Pooh boy!” he exclaims, overjoyed, “You remember me! You do remember your ol’ buddy Tigger after all!”

Tigger starts bouncing around again, and the medicine bottle just disappears between shots.

Later, Pooh goes to sleep in his house and astral projects.

His astral form floats out of the ceiling and witnesses everyone seeing Sora off at the end of the Hundred Acre Wood’s plotline in KH1, albeit with Sora slightly shadowed over.

“I wonder who that is,” Pooh ponders.

The camera zooms in on flashback!Sora.

“Oh, well. Perhaps… I’ll remember tomorrow.”

And with that, the illustration of Kanga’s house pops up, and the player is sent back to Merlin’s house.

(Credit to Mudarrow and KH Wiki, as usual.)

Speaking of citing my sources, I double-checked this minigame’s name on KH Wiki, and “Balloon Bounce” is just called “Jump” in the original Japanese, for some reason.

-

 WAIT IS THAT WHERE THIS IS FROM

#submission

[starjane312]

Kit Tanthalos x OC

Big Masterlist

Masterlist

Epilouge

When I open my Eyes I look at Kit.

J: What the hell ?

My whole body hurts. 

J: Why do I feel like I’ve been kicked by a Horse ?

Kit hugs me. 

J: Hey everythings alright. I just turned to Stone.

She looks at me Confused.

J: What ?

K: You don’t Remember ?

She looks at Willow.

K: How ?

W: What is the last thing you Remember ?

J: I turned into stone. I was walking in a Dark Void until I saw this green Light.

W: Her Body must have been a shell. Only showing her deepest fears and Insecurities. 

I sit up.

J: If you’re here. Where is Miles ?!

He lifts his Coat and shows Miles bind to his Chest.

W: Protection shield like I told you.

I look down at my Clothes.

Ja: So you don’t Remember a thing that has happened ?

J: What the fuck am I wearing ?!

He hands Miles to me.

I shake my Head.

J: Not a Single bit. Care to remind me ?

K: You were on the side of the Crone.

J: You’re Joking right ?

Everybody looks at me with Dead serious faces.

J: I didn’t try to Kill anybody did I?

Ja: You did.

I look at Jade.

J: I’m so Sorry.

She waves her Hand.

Ja: You weren’t you. 

We get up. Once I see aryk. I frown.

J: What did you do to your Hair ?

A: Doesn't it look Good ?

J: Meh. Would have to get Used to it. But this is Different.

A: I’m different ? You Married my Sister and you have a Baby.

J: Ok. Everything is Different.

I look around.

J: Where is Twinkle-Toes ?

Everyone stays Quiet.

J: No.

Tears gather in my Eyes.

E: He died protecting me.

I chuckle.

J: God damn. Did he at least …

K: He told her he had the Hots for her.

J: Good. 

I shake my head and chuckle.

Ja: No ones gonna know how Brave he was.

K: They will. We’re gonna Tell them.

J: And I will show them how good of a Writer he was. 

I get the book out of my Pocket.

B: You have that ?

J: Didn’t give it back the last time. Kinda flew over my Head you know, with my Wife giving Birth and stuff. It's a Miracle it's here.

A: Wait, how old is he ?

J: Three days.

He looks at Kit.

A: How can you walk ?

E: Magic.

He nods and then looks at Miles.

A: What’s his name ?

K: Miles.

J: You wanna Hold him ?

He nods. I hand him to Aryk.

A: Why does he have red Hair ?

J: We’re suspecting either your mothers Genes or the Blood magic.

We look at the unending lands.

A: It just goes on and on till eventually you end up back where you started.

B: Nah, we’ll make it back. We always figure something out.

I look at Boorman and shake my head.

B: You know you really have to Prove it though, if you wanna adventure with us. We don’t mess about.

I slap Boorman across the Head.

J: Shut it you Oaf. 

B: Hey !

A: Who are you again ?

J: Remember my Brother that left when we were Seven.

I point at Boorman.

A: Oh.

J: Yeah. 

B: By the way.

He takes something from his Wrist and holds it in front of me. It's the bracelet. I take it.

J: Yeah, kinda not sorry for that.

B: I am.

I nod.

J: I know. And maybe I will forgive you. 

I look at Kit who's wearing full Armour. 

J: It worked on you huh ?

She nods and looks down at herself. I smirk. I have to admit she looks very Hot. Jade smiles at us.

K: What ? I’m gonna take it off. I will have to eventually.

She points at Miles.

Ja: When ?

K: As soon as I figure out how. 

Aryk leans over to me and whispers in my ear.

A: You kinda wish that was never, Huh ?

I look at him astonished.

A: What ?

I take Miles back from him.

Ja: What if the Wyrm or whatever is still down there, waiting ?

E: It is. I saw it. 

Ja: Shouldn’t we go back and try and Kill it ?

W: Soon it’ll come for us. Now we’ve really pissed it off.

We look at Willow.

Ja: You don’t really seem to Worried.

J: Isn’t that usually your thing ? Worrying ?

W: No. I’ve got you Girls and soon there’ll be more. Like a snowball gathering size and Speed as it rolls downhill. Did I ever tell you about the Time Madmartigan rolled himself into a giant snowball ?

We start Walking. But Jade puts her Hand on my Shoulder.

Ja: Can we talk ?

I look at her.

J: Only if you help me put Miles on my Chest. 

She grabs the Linen and Starts.

Ja: When we were fighting you yelled at me that I’m always in the way. And that Kit’s supposed to be on your side. Are you insecure about mine and Kit’s friendship ? Cause I can assure you it is nothing more than that.

I look at her.

J: I once was, when was 14. You always seemed so close and … I guess that fear was still buried somewhere. But I know that you want nothing from her, so we’re fine.

She nods and makes a knot in the Linen.

K: What are you doing  ?

We look at her.

J: What does it look like ?

K: Standing around. 

I walk to her.

J: Sorry that I didn’t want my Arms to hurt from Carrying our Child the Whole time. 

I take her Hand. We keep walking. But look back once we notice Elora's standing still looking back.

K: Hey. Come on.

J: We need you Up here.

She comes to us and we walk with the Sunrise. 

J: I’m gonna miss Twinkle-Toes.

K: Going from wanting to Kill him to being his best friend.

J: Ironic isn’t it.

I smile at her and then at Miles.

#kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos x oc #willow #jade claymore #aryk tanthalos #elora danan #thraxus boorman #graydon hastur