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#i just immediately assume you have really bad takes and even if you don't and you're cool i know you'll muck it up at some point
shiro-luvs-victor · 15 hours
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This is just my impression so far on the MCs of Ikemen Series. I have seen posts about Ikemen MC not having enough spite, dumb, damsel and distress etc etc....and to some point I do agree with it. Even I made a post about MCs being overly positive. But at the same time I feel like this is done on purpose from the writers' part.
Let's just say it, the MCs are not really that relatable even though they try to make it look like that. MCs in these games are very kind-hearted for no reason, overly positive and lack basic common sense. For example, take this scene from Harry's story event:
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Harry did mention to her before this that he can detect if a person is lying or not when he makes eye-contact. In the scene mentioned above, a person with common sense can easily tell that Harry lost on purpose. But for some reason Kate thought he lost because she was able deceived him. It is only later that Harry told her and Kate looked genuinely surprised. I don't think Kate is dumb. But I feel like the writers think we players are not that smart enough to distinguish between Harry's lies and truth. It makes me laugh some times.
I just honestly feel like MCs are portrayed this way so that we players could understand the game and its characters better. Like Paimon from genshin, who repeats everything in baby terms so that we could understand what we have to do (even if her screechy noise is annoying). MCs here are played by us, so when male characters has a plan that they don't reveal, MCs try to find out what their plan is so that we could understand. That's it. MCs are here just simplify the story to make us understand the character's better. They'll only ask the male characters what's needed to know right now and not anything extra. If it where a realistic MCs, she would ask more logical questions like:
Is Victor also cursed?
If Crown consists of only 'cursed' people and Victor went around to search these people, are there any 'cursed' people out there who rejected his request?
More questions on their abilities like: Can Harry still detect lies if someone closes their eye? Can Elbert trigger sad memories if a person doesn't have a sad memory? etc etc...
But we don't see Kate asking these questions.
I feel like the reason why we feel sometimes frustrated when MCs act in a certain way is because these MCs are not at all realistic. I'll never believe that someone with common sense did not try to run away after watching a murder happen. I'll never believe that someone with common sense falling into easy traps. Like this one scene from Silvio's story where, Silvio's daddy visits Rhodolite because his lost son is found and he also wants to know if Rhodolite King is dead blah blah blah...you guys know that story (I assume). Emma has to choose the next King without Silvio's dad knowing and they wait for Sariel's call. A servant comes to Emma's room to call both her and Rio. This servant itself is sus because Emma clearly states that she hasn't seen that servant before. When I read this, I immediately knew it was red flag. But even so, Emma and Rio ignores the red flag and goes with the servant and what do you know? They get kidnapped. The scene was very predictable. But it's so frustrating because, realistically speaking I think normal people would feel a little bit suspicious about the person given the situation. Maybe even question the servant. That's why I'm saying...I do feel MCs are not realistic enough. I don't think anyone is overly-kindhearted to the point that they would accept insults from the male leads and be like "I'm going to prove myself to you!". Normal people would just be like "fuck off!" and won't listen to their insults. No one is so dumb it fall into easy traps and no normal person is like "I will work hard to get to know them better." Majority of the people are way smarter and way selfish (not in a bad way though!). Many people have attitude, not everyone are kind to strangers. That's why MCs are not realistic, so there is no use in comparing MC to your personality or your intelligence. They are just tools for explaining the story in a simplified way and moving the plot forward. Because like I said, if Emma and Rio didn't go with the servant and get kidnapped, Silvio's story wouldn't move forward.
That's all. This no hate, this is just how I felt after reading quite amount of stories both in-game and on tumblr. MC's don't have much background because the writers don't really put too much thought about their personality. MCs are basically last on their lists. They just make sure that she's an adult, working woman (doing some odd jobs like a flowershop lady or something, because I've never seen a CEO MC), and they are very kind for some reason. They don't have family (except for Emma), they don't have a story, they don't have anything that impacts their personality. At least it would have been nice to see why a MC is so kind-hearted would be nice. But otome games' main selling points are the male leads. The male leads falls for MC's purity in their dark world.
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chateaumarmontt · 2 days
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Hey
I wrote an Everlark fanfiction. Peeta sees Gale and Katniss kissing. Katniss’ POV
Word count: 1300
English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes<3
It was about 7 pm when Gale visited me. We didn't really talk after he found out about the engagement.
"Hi", he said, walking in my room. I was surprised to see him.
"Hi", I smile back, hoping he'd get over whatever it is between us so we can go on and be friends, "How's work?"
"Good. How's your leg?"
"Terrible. Mom doesn't even let me move, it gets boring sometimes."
"That sounds bad. And what do you do all day?"
I try not to mention that Peeta's coming by everyday to help me with the family book. I don't want to hurt Gale's feelings, since he'd interpret it as something more. Is it something more? I definitely seem to always end up with the boy with the bread, one way or another, but I'm not sure he even likes me anymore.
"Not much", I say and then there's silence.
"Katniss...", his tone gives me anxiety; i know he's about to bring something awkward up and I don't know how to deal with it, "I love you."
My eyes widen. We never really talked about this, but I assumed he had a crush on me. That's it. A crush. Not that he loves me.
"You don't have to answer now, but...", and then he kisses me. I pull back in shock.
"I had to do it once. Hello, Peeta", Gale smirks and I notice the blonde boy sitting in the doorway. I immediately panic. Did he see us kissing? I've been a bitch to him until I realized how I felt about our engagement. Truth is, I loved being able to call him my fiancé. Peeta was popular before, but after the Games, every girl was head over heels, I'd hear them talk about his muscles, his pretty smile. But no one had the chance to kiss his pink lips or to observe his long eyelashes. He was mine, in a way.
"Hi", he greets back, obviously a little sad. Did Gale do that on purpose? "I can come back later if..."
"No, Peeta, stay", I interrupt him. I don't want him to leave here upset. As his figure approaches my bed, I grab his hand. I don't even realize I do until he looks down at it and carefully slides his hand away.
"You don't have to do that. We're not really engaged."
This makes my heart break. I didn't really realize it till now, I thought this meant something for him as well.
"Oh.."
After talking for a while, he tells me his father needs help at the bakery. I put on a fake smile and wish him luck, but I can't sleep that night. Or the other day when he doesn't visit me. He used to come by everyday. I can't keep going on like this. Instead, Gale visits me.
"Did you do that on purpose", I cut him short, not even saying hi.
"What?"
"The kiss. So that Peeta can see it."
I don't have time to play his games, I don't want other people to get hurt because Gale is selfish. Peeta would've never done that to him, even if they hate each other.
"You told me there's nothing going on between you two, Katniss. I-"
"I lied", I say before I can stop myself.
Gale looks hurt. Maybe he's done a shitty thing, but I know he cares about me. In fact, he loves me.
"Look, you're the only person I trust besides mom and Prim”- and Peeta, I add in my head, but choose to omit the detail-“You're my best friend and you're really good looking, you have to know that, girls are always talking about it"
Gale smiles so I take it as a clue to continue:
"But I can't see you that way, Gale. I'm sorry."
"It's alright. I don't really have a say in it, do I?”He sighs before adding: “I'm sorry for what I did, Katniss.”
“So… friends”, I ask awkwardly and Gale nodds.
I can see him struggling with the conclusion, but I know our friendship can get past this, right?
________________________________
It's been 3 days since I last saw Peeta. He still brings me cheese buns, but never comes to my room. Prim told me he always asks mom how I'm feeling. I decide to go to the bakery, even though my foot is far from well. I can manage, I'll just get a cane.
I wait for mom to leave for work. After what seems like forever, I finally hear the door close.
I literally crawl down the stairs. The cane is downstairs and there's no way I could step on my foot. Finally, I reach it, but I can’t get up. I didn’t really think this through…
"Katniss? What are you doing", I turn around to see Prim, confused.
"I'm fine, Prim. A little help?"
She helps me get up and now I'm using the cane to get to the door.
"Where are you going? Does mom know-"
"I have to see Peeta", I sigh and she smiles, putting her hands on her hips.
“Will you finally confess your true love for him”
I just roll my eyes, but I can feel my cheeks getting flushed:
"Don't tell mom! I'll be right back."
"If you're not back in two hours, I'm coming after you."
"Give me three? I have to use a cane!"
Prim giggles, murmuring a "fine" and I walk out the door.
The road is not easy and as expected, it took me almost an hour. I'm nervous when I knock on the back door and I'm greeted by Rye, one of Peeta's older brothers.
He rolls his eyes, yelling:
"Peeta, your wife is here."
"Very funny", I hear another voice screaming back. Peeta's.
"I'm serious, loser.”
I blush at the word wife. 10 seconds later, I see Peeta. His eyes widen:
"Katniss? What are you doing here? Did you come all this way by yourself? You're supposed to be resting! Why-"
"Shut up", I interrupt him, "Peeta, we have to talk."
Before he can say something, I continue: "What you saw 3 days ago... Gale and-" I swallow hard, looking at the frown on his face "yeah... he did that on purpose. So that you'd think we were together. But we're not, I clarified. I told him he's my best friend and that I could never see him any other way."
"That's nice, Katniss, but it's not really my business", Peeta replies coldly. It's not his usual warm, cozy tone that I love and I know what I said isn't enough. “Let’s get you home, alright”, I could see the worry in his blue eyes and it made my heart melt. The way he was still worried about me, after I led him on, hurt his feelings… no, we’ll talk about this now.
"If it wasn't your business, why did you stop visiting me?"
"I'm sorry, my dad needed help-"
"Bullshit."
"So why do you think I stopped visiting you, then", he asks, visibly irritated.
"Because you don't want me to be with anybody else. You want me to be yours", I snap back and Peeta blushes lightly. I know I've never really let him speak during this conversation and this time isn’t any different. I kiss him, cutting off whatever lie he'd come up with and for a moment everything felt fine. One of his hand plays with my hair, while the other one was pressed against my waist, closing the distance between our bodies. I knew he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
We have to stop in order to breathe a little, foreheads still pressed against each other.
"Katniss..."
"Mhm?"
"I really hated seeing you with Gale."
"I know. I hated him kissing me", I scoff and Peeta smiles.
After a while, we break off, Peeta’s hand still holding me so I don’t fall. I forgot about my leg.
"I should go. If i'm not home in an hour, Prim will tell mom"
"There's no way I'm letting you walk", he says and picks me up, bridal style.
"You can't be serious", I laugh.
"Watch me."
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shitpostdevil · 2 days
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Your intimidating manager secretly has a thing for you~
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Suguru x F!reader
Warning: 18+, jealousy, coworker interest~
I do not own any of the characters or the art I find to include (unless if I explicitly state otherwise)
These are solely MY headcanons, if you don't like them, it's okay, you don't have to read, just mind your business, m'kay?
If you happen to know that the art is yours and want credit, or for it to be removed, please, say something. I will fully respect your wishes.
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He was the one to interview you for the job. It absolutely enthralled you that he asked "what's wrong with you to make you want to work here?" as one of the interview questions. (You had to bite your tongue not to say, 'what isn't wrong with me?')
Every other day that you two work together, as soon as he's clocked in, he ignores everyone else and is immediately talking to you about another anime/manga he found (which you immediately start consuming as soon as you have the chance to because they're all good)
You've grown to look forward to shifts with him, always feeling like something is missing if he's not there (he would never outright admit it, but he feels the same exact way)
Working after close has become your favorite part of the job when it's with him, getting the stock ready for the next day while he speaks about his latest interest as you quietly listen (buzzing because he's telling you about his life, but keeps it on lock for anyone else- he's not even sure when it started to happen or why, he doesn't talk about anything personal, especially not at work)
One day while putting out stock for the next morning, Suguru was opening the next morning and knew that he would be putting the stuff out, so he made a fort out of the boxes and dubbed it "'Fort Suguru'!" with the brightest smile (it's the first time you remember your heart racing because of him- it was the only time you had ever seen him smile like that and you thought it was beyond precious)
After the store is locked up, your current boyfriend would always take forever to show up to bring you home, but Suguru would wait with you every time without fail- even when the minutes turned into an hour more than once (and he would always stare daggers at your boyfriend- he would always ask on the way home, "Why does he always have to sit and wait with you?", to which you respond, "I think it's policy or something about safety."; you could never actually say that if he wasn't late every time then Suguru wouldn't have to wait with you because you secretly didn't want the alone time to stop)
After months of watching your boyfriend treat you like actual garbage, he breaks up with you while you're at work and takes the car you shared, abandoning you even after your shift is over; you're sick to your stomach in the bathroom for hours, sobbing (every time Suguru comes back to check on you his hand hovers at the door for way too long. Hearing your choked on sobs over such a horrible man hurts him somewhere he didn't believe could be hurt again- he had locked that door a long time ago, why does this hurt? He never ends up knocking, choosing to give you space- he wouldn't even know what to say anyways...)
When you still don't get the car back, Suguru begs the closing worker not to say anything to any of the other managers after he makes the decision to drive you home after they lock the store- (it could get both of you in trouble, but he isn't sure what else to do)
The only problem with the previous is that it seems like the moment you get into his car, you pass out from what he can only assume is exhaustion- which means that he doesn't have the slightest clue where to drive you (Is it really so bad that he drives you to his place? He has a spare room...)
He doesn't have the heart to wake you so he chooses the stupidly selfish option- putting both of your jobs on the line in the process (can you really blame him after listening to you sob all day?)
He tries to miss all of the potholes on the way home- petrified to his core that you'll wake up- (What if you freak out? What if you think he's planning on taking advantage of you? He would absolutely perish if you thought badly of him)
When you both get to his place unharmed he tries to be as gentle as possible, taking you from his front seat bridal style, carrying you up the flight of stairs to his apartment (hoping none of his neighbors get the wrong idea by carrying an unconscious girl back to his place after always strictly staying alone)
He struggles to open the door with you in his arms, which makes you mumble something incoherent, but not wake up- he rushes into the door and straight to his spare room, moving the sheets the best he can to lay you down; he tucks you in carefully and lets his eyes linger on your sleeping state for a little too long, then leaving you to get much needed rest (he lets out a 'Tsk' at his slight annoyance that it took you two this long to break up, and even bigger annoyance that it was you that ended up being more hurt by it- but he couldn't fully blame you for having too big of a heart, even if it was someone that didn't deserve it; deep down he wanted violence)
(This is the end of Part 1, there is absolutely going to be more than one part due to apparent character limit)
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ladyloveandjustice · 2 days
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I liveblog the Odyssey (The Liveblogyssey)
'I've been listening to and reading The Odyssey (Emily Wilson's translation) and I've been rambling a lot to my partner, so I thought I would also liveblog my first impressions! I read parts of The Odyssey in high school and college but never the whole thing start to finish.
Athena spoils half the plot right off, I mean obviously I knew it already, but still. We start near the end of the story with Odysseus trapped on Calypso's island, Telemachus really upset that the suitors are EATING ALL THEIR SHEEP, and the beginning follows Telemachus around as he travels around to try to learn about his dad and if he's alive. Which... we know he is so that takes a little of the tension out of it.
(Seriously, Telemachus is very fixated on the sheep thing. I get that it's a big source of food but maybe you should be a little more concerned about your mom fending off 108 suitors bud).
Athena in disguise goes to meet and accompany him, appearing as an older man, and this translation is very simple and accessible (though there are definitely moments of beautiful prose) but this sometimes leads to really awkward lines like Telemachus telling Athena in disguise "I will give you a precious, pretty treasure as a keepsake to mark our special friendship" which like. are you hitting on him Telemachus you just said you think he's fatherly.
Telemachus is going thru it though. so you can't help but feel bad for him. "My mother says I am his son, but I can't be sure [...} I wish I were the son of someone lucky, who can grow old at home, instead the most unlucky man alive is said to be my father." Like that one of the times you feel the connection going back thousand of years so fiercely, the idea of having no connection to your father because you've never met him and he doesn't even feel like your dad, just a story, and too bad you can't be the son of someone who's around.
Meanwhile, a super unintentionally funny lin from young Mac is "The poets are not to blame for how things are, Blame Zeus." which yeah, that sums up most of Greek myth doesn't it! (also very funny of Homer to be like "be nice to poets, they're cool".) He also tells his own Mom to go back to the kitchen so he can assert to the suitors he's in charge and there's a man in this house, but we are reading a story from 8th century BC so.
Anyway he goes around with Athena travelling and learning about his dad, and honestly, the Odyssey is so funny. Love the part where Nestor is like "oh if only Athena favored you as she did her father" and Telemachus is like “Yeah Athena’s not on my side” :/ and she's just. sitting there with him and says”hmm are you sure I think she maybe is probably"
(and then she's like "btw to gods don't control who lives and who dies TELEMACHUS we can't even protect our mortal loved ones (but please ignore all the times we've actively killed people) and also! also! I think your dad should be grateful to go on a cool quest and be alive when he could have just died the second he left Troy, think about THAT!!!)
then she just randomly turns into a bird and leaves after ensuring Telemachus has good sleeping arrangements. Telemachus never reacts to this, everyone else is just like "omg Athena!!" he says nothing I assume he was just standing there in slackjawed shock for the next couple of hours and going over all the embarrassing things he said.
Also we get to see Helen! And I knew from earlier Greek studies that people today acting like she was dumb just because men found her attractive was misogynist nonsense. But now I get to be extra mad because the woman isn't just not dumb, she's really intelligent and observant!
Not only does she immediately figure out who Telemachus is because she saw him when he was a newborn (how??) and relays that during the Trojan war she was the only one able to recognize odysseus when he came to her place in disguise and gave him intel, but most importantly she talks about "the day the Greeks marched off to troy, their minds fixated on war and violence. They made my face the cause that hounded them". Just subtly calling the whole army out. She knows they didn't actually go to war for her. She knows she was just an excuse, and a weak one at that. She knows they wanted this war, they wanted this violence.
So yeah, Helen is smart as hell! Screw that "Everyone wanted Helen of Sparta I wanted someone a little smarter" shit from Epic, sexist nonsense, I'm glad that song was cut.
She also mentions that "Aphrodite made her go crazy" when she agreed to run off, which could be literally true (Aphrodite did tend to do that) or a clever way to protect her reputation after leaving her husband.
Helen also has drugs, which I imagine is a big reason everyone liked her. The total package. But uh, she also does drugs everyone's drinks without apparently telling them. With what sounds like superpowered magic weed or something, to make them mellow and calm and erase anxiety and depression. It says "Whoever drinks this mixture for the bowl will shed no tears that day not even if her mother or father should die" which uh actually seems kind of dangerous! But Telemachus is goin' thru it, so maybe he could use it. but apparently it doesn't work (or takes a long time to kick in} because Telemachus gets upset anyway and says things like "This makes it worse! Courage could not save my father's life!" and wants to go to bed. (PS she got the weed from Egypt, and it's nice that the story is very complementary about Egyptians, calling them the "healer's people").
And then we've finished Telemachus's depression session and get back to Penelope. THE SAGA CONTINUES IN PART 2.
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teaboot · 4 months
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You know being transmasc after a life of growing up as the sole "girl" in male-dominated areas gives you a weird and complicated relationship with gender identity.
Like... being told straight to your face, "you're naturally bad at this cause you're a girl", "you're naturally weaker cause you're a girl", "you can act tough but you'll always just be a girl", "stop acting like you can keep up with the men", and even the well-intentioned, "Yeah women are like that, but you don't count, you're basically one of the boys"...
It leads you to this weird space where it's like. "Fuck you, women kick ass," and then busting yourself up to prove that you, a woman, *can* keep up, and not only keep up but do it better than anyone else, and taking pride in your femininity because it's not a fucking weakness, but at the same time knowing that... You're not a woman.
You're not a woman. You're not a girl. People just see tits and curves and decide that nature made you delicate, and then all of a sudden it's your responsibility to prove that you're not fucking weak, women aren't weak, while also saying, "I'm not a woman, though."
It's... bizarre.
I'm not a girl. But so long as I'm interpreted as one, I'm still gonna be held back by the same stereotypes. But if I ever stop being interpreted as one, then all the hard fucking work I put in to excel in my field is going to go down the toilet as "just something you can do because you're a man".
And fuck that. That's stupid, too. Guys shouldn't have their effort taken for granted like that, and it stings extra hard because you remember people just naturally assuming you suck and earning respect only to lose it immediately the second you step over to the "man" side. Because you've worked your whole life for something that as a man you'd just be expected to have naturally.
You SEE that shit staring you in the face, and worst of all people still walk around you in plain view and still talk about how women can't do shit and conveniently forget that you've BEEN ONE. "Because you were a man all along" or "because you overcompensate to prove yourself", whatever they think of to justify the cognitive dissonance that keeps their narrative going.
Nobody seems to consider that I'm not really different from women OR men, because those differences don't exist.
I'm not "naturally better" than women because I don't identify as one, and I'm not "worse than" men because I wasn't assigned the title by a third party. I'm just a person. We're all just people.
I'm just tired, man.
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autismserenity · 3 months
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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ev-arrested · 1 year
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You can tell the exact mental state of Dick Grayson based on the music he plays in the car
His entire family monitors his listening habits, and if it's anything but things from the list of genres and artists that Dick normally likes while provably mentally stable, they get concerned.
Tim, texting the group chat without Dick in it: Hey, guys, just needed to let y'all know that Dick picked me up today, and he put on an NF song in the car.
Barbara: Fuck, he's depressed.
Steph: Isn't he always?
Barbara: No, like--more than usual.
-
A week later.
Jason: Y'all, I'm with him rn and he's blasting S&M in the training room. One of you bitches--and I will find out who--triggered some body image issues, and now he's sexualizing himself to cope.
Tim: Did one of you guys call him ugly or smth???
Steph: I would never. I'm not a mean person, unlike you guys.
Damian: Why did you immediately assume it was one of us?
Jason: Because y'all are terrible people.
Tim: I'm not taking this from a literal gang leader.
Jason: But I admit, that is a bit of a jump on my part. It could've been any of Dick's trash friends that he, for some reason, keeps around, so that's on me.
Cass: Monitor him so he doesn't do anything drastic.
Barbara: Let me know if he starts compulsively thinking about becoming a stripper.
Jason: If that happens, there's no saving him.
-
After Dick returns from Spyral.
Duke: Now this just might be me, but I don't think I ever pegged Dick as a metalhead before he went off to work for Spyral.
Tim: Dear god.
Tim: Don't tell me he's listening to SOAD.
Duke: What even is that.
Jason: System of a Down
Duke: Oh, yeah, it's that.
Tim: NOOOOOOO
Duke: What does that mean???
Barbara: He's self-destructive.
Steph: Isn't he normally?
Barbara: No, like--I mean yes, but more explosively.
Jason: His main goal is to blow up...
Barbara: Don't.
Steph: aND THEN ACT LIKE HE DON'T KNOW NOBODY
Jason: HAH HAH HAH HAH
Barbara: This is serious.
-
Steph: He's listening to vocaloid. That's....so odd??? @Damian did you have anything to do with this?
Tim: oh my god
Damian: The answer to this question is of high importance: what song is it?
Steph: Do you think I can speak Japanese??
Damian: Ask.
Steph: omg fine.
Steph: He says it's "Assassin Princess" by Mitchie M.
Tim: Hold on lemme listen to this shit
Damian: It's a good song.
Jason: Okay, but what does that tell us?
Damian: It's not a song I ever played for him.
Jason: So you're telling me he's listening to vocaloid independent of you?
Damian: It would appear so.
Jason: Oh, that's bad.
Tim: The song's about a spy and her partner murdering her ex-boyfriend who betrayed her.
Steph: He's feeling vengeful.
Jason: Oh, that's really bad.
-
Cass: He's playing One Direction.
Barbara: Honestly?? Chances are, he's fine.
Duke: Agreed. He's playing "What Makes You Beautiful", so I doubt it's anything.
Duke: Now if he starts playing shit from their solo careers, we have a problem.
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bendgineer · 2 months
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They did not "take away" Sokka sexism in the Netflix Avatar The last Airbender adaptation!l. They just made it more realistic to what sexism actually looks like in the real world.
In the original cartoon, Sokka's sexism is very one dimensional, a "women can't fight!!" attitude and he immediately gets humbled and learns he's wrong. It's a pretty simple depiction of misogyny, but it's good because after all, ATLA is a show for kids (that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it as an adult) but having a simple depiction of sexism = bad is perfect for what the show is.
However, it's very clear the Netflix adaptation is a bit more mature in tone and takes its themes a bit more serious. Its still "all ages" but I would not show it to young kids with the whole burning people alive stuff. So because it takes a more serious approach to the story, it also does so with Sokka's sexism arc! Instead of just being like "women can't fight!" he assumes by virtue of being a male who was handed a club, he is the equal of Suki and the Kyoshi warriors. He literally says this, that he thinks they are practically the same. Suki rightfully gets pissed about it! She has trained her entire life as an elite warrior. Him and her are NOT the same. And in this version, Sokka again, gets immediately humbled and learns he was wrong.
This version of sexism is waaaaay more accurate to the sexism we see around in modern society today though. We don't really see a ton of people saying women can't play sports, but that there's a lot of men who think just because they played a sport in highschool, they could match up equally with (or even beat!) a professional woman athlete. All just because they are a guy!!! And this is the sexism that Sokka exhibits, and is refuted! It's a GOOD change because it's showing sexism (and how wrong it is) in the subtle way it is more likely to show up as in the real world!
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queerpumpkinnn · 9 months
Text
You Snooze You Lose
3.9k words
Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)
Warnings: piercedtongue!Eddie, softdom!Eddie, mention of reader having an awkward date, alcohol (both consume but they're not drunk), Eddie refers to reader as princess/pretty and reader is afab but pronouns and clothing style is up for interpretation, Eddie picks up reader, thigh riding, choking, brief weed mention, fingering, oral sex, singular biblical reference?? (not counting someone saying 'oh god' or something of the like, kinda vague i think it'll probably go over a lot of people's heads), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (eddie receiving), mentions of voyeurism, reader begs a lot a lot a lot, unprotected sex and creampie (this is fiction, wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, panty sniffing and stealing, scratching (eddie receiving), Eddie's mouth (however you're interpreting this the answer is yes), heaps of praise, sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, Eddie is a pleasure dom through and through, let me know if I missed anything
While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.
You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.
A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.
"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."
You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"
"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."
There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.
As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.
You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.
"Kid? Y'alright?"
There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.
"Yeah, sorry."
"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"
You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."
"Assuming it didn't go well?"
"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."
Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"
"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.
Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.
"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.
"Aw, you worry about me?"
“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"
You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.
Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."
"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."
Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"
"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."
Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"
"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."
Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."
Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.
"Could you?"
Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.
"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."
"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"
Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.
You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.
Then your mouth moved of its own accord.
"Show me."
Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.
"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"
Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.
"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"
"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.
You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.
"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.
"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.
"Hm?"
"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.
"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."
"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.
"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.
"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."
Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.
"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"
You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.
Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.
"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.
Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.
"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.
"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.
Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.
"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.
"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.
Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.
It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.
But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.
Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.
But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.
"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.
"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.
"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.
"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.
"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."
Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.
You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"
"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.
As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.
"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.
"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"
You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.
Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."
You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.
"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.
"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.
"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.
The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.
"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.
"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.
And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.
"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.
"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.
You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.
"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"
Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.
"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.
And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.
"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"
Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.
"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.
"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"
Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.
"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.
His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.
"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.
"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.
You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.
"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"
"Uh huh."
Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."
"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."
Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."
Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.
You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.
Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.
"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.
"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.
You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.
A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"
Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.
Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.
~
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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twilightcitysky · 9 months
Text
Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 2)
Part one here
Okay, so that's how I think the pre-creation scene and Gabriel's arc connect to Aziraphale's choice. I also think the ineffable bureaucracy speedrun exists to prove totally different things to Aziraphale and Crowley: Aziraphale loves that they can love each other but notes they have to run away to be together; Crowley sees this and immediately thinks "hey, we can do that too!", forgetting that running away is not a solution Aziraphale has ever been interested in. It's the mentality of an individualist vs a group-oriented mind, and neither of them is necessarily wrong, it's just that their priorities are different and they HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT, which they don't.
Continued analysis under the cut:
3. Let's take the Job minisode. Why include it? We already mentioned that it proves Aziraphale remembers Crowley as an angel, since he mentions it. And he believes Crowley is the same person he always was, and that he doesn't want to harm Job's crops or animals or children. Crowley tries to convince him he's a Big Bad Demon who is all in on this assignment, but fails utterly to kill even a single goat, soooo... Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that he knows what Crowley wants. Alert! Alert! This is a big problem! Crowley says, "What do you know about what I want?" Aziraphale: "I know you." Crowley: "You do not know me." But because Aziraphale got it right this time, he goes ahead assuming he'll always get it right, which is a crucial failure when it comes to the final reckoning. He doesn't ever ASK Crowley what he wants, he just assumes. When you assume you know what someone wants, you usually assume their priorities align with yours... he couldn't be more wrong about that. The Job minisode sets up this dynamic for them, and they never really manage to change it.
The other thing happens at the end of the minisode. Crowley acknowledges two crucial points: 1) he's lonely ("But you said it wasn't!" "I'm a demon. I lied"), 2) he doesn't think Aziraphale would like Hell. Aziraphale DOESN'T like Hell. Aziraphale hates Hell for what they've done to Crowley. He doesn't see Heaven as innocent or benign, but importantly, Heaven has never tried to hurt Crowley directly. They never threatened his safety. They never tortured him (as it's heavily implied that Hell did). Fast forward to the last ten mins of season 2: Aziraphale excited to tell Crowley that he can be an angel again BECAUSE: he never has to go back to Hell. They can never hurt him again, not the way they did before. And he doesn't have to be lonely anymore.
Last point before I leave Job: Crowley has the chance to cause Aziraphale to Fall, here, probably. ("I lied to Heaven to thwart the will of God!" "You did, but I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you? ...good, then nothing has to change.") He doesn't take it. He doesn't want Aziraphale to be a demon. He loves Aziraphale as he is. "Angel" as an affectionate. Aziraphale certainly doesn't use "demon" as a pet name for Crowley. I think they set up this scene to contrast the final one, and show how deeply hurt Crowley is that Aziraphale suggest he change.
4. Moving on to Victorian Scotland. This one confused me at first. I was delighted that they brought back the "the lower you start the more opportunity you have to rise" dialogue from the book, but apart from that I didn't really see the point of it. It seems like the statue of Gabriel and the fact that he and Beelz ended up at that pub in the present were more or less coincidental.
The point, I think, is actually not the girl, but the doctor. He's a person who is trying to do good by working in a system that's deeply flawed, and engaging in questionable moral practices for the greater good. (Cadaver dissection is still an essential part of medical school. You need dead bodies to understand living ones.) He shows Aziraphale a tumor he removed from a child who died, and Aziraphale clutches it to his chest. The camera zooms in and lingers to tell us that this is a guardian through and through. He wants to protect people. He wants to do good with every fiber of his being.
To Crowley, it's enough to just "be an us" with Aziraphale. He doesn't really want anything more than that. That's an issue! For one thing, it fosters unhealthy codependency, and for another, Aziraphale would never be happy without the opportunity to help and protect people. It's an essential part of who he is. Metatron knows that, and he plays Aziraphale like a fiddle. The doctor showed Aziraphale that you can make a difference even in systems that are flawed, and even if you have to do things you'd rather not do. Aziraphale doesn't want to go back to Heaven, but he truly thinks he can change things; thinks he can be a guardian with some real power. In his mind, that's the right thing to do.
Last thing that happens in Scotland: Crowley saves a soul from Hell, arguably, by preventing a suicide. He gets in Big Trouble. Whatever happened to him downstairs resulted in him coming back up, leaning on a cane, and asking Aziraphale to give him holy water. Go back and watch that scene knowing what we know now about the Victorian minisode. Ask yourself how Aziraphale must have felt. He likely blamed himself for what happened, because if he hadn't meddled then they never would have been there in the first place. He knew where Crowley was, and why he was there, and he had to sit with that knowledge for years. He desperately wants Crowley to be safe; is perfectly willing to push him away to keep him safe-- which is what he does do, the minute Crowley gets back.
Now think again about what Metatron offered him. A chance to keep Crowley safe forever. He'd never be harmed again. Aziraphale is going to take that offer, no matter what else is asked of him. He's shown over and over again that he'll sacrifice his own happiness to make sure nothing happens to Crowley. And he'll do it without talking to Crowley about it first, because he is a moron who doesn't know how to use his words. Leading Crowley to assume that Aziraphale doesn't love him. The idiot angel is doing it all out of love, but because he doesn't make himself clear Crowley doesn't know that.
Part 3: Maggie and Nina, and their roles as mirror couple/ Greek chorus!
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barcaatthemoon · 26 days
Text
down for the count || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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you take a bad hit during a game.
some things weren't meant to be joked about. you knew that you could be a bit dramatic, often treating little things like they were big deals. you weren't sure when it had become funny to you to see the look of concern on your teammates' faces whenever you'd go down for a few seconds too long before they realized that you were fine. you knew that it wasn't really funny, but you liked having the knowledge that someone genuinely cared for you.
el classico matches were big deals, and jonatan made you promise to be on your best behavior if you wanted to start. mapi was out on injury, so she wouldn't be there to spur you on towards trouble. everybody seemed to understand the impact of this particular match, it was alexia's first el classico since her injury.
"good luck today, la reina." your tone was cheery and playful, usually something the girls knew meant trouble. however, you genuinely were trying to be on your best behavior. none of them mentioned it, but you could feel them watching you closely throughout the warm ups.
the game iself wasn't what you had expected. you had played in big matches before, where tensions were high and players tended to be a bit aggressive. several girls had nearly trucked through you, and the refs didn't seem to be paying much attention of any of it. you were getting frustrated, and the playfulness from before faded away. the girls were still watching you, but they weren't paying enough attention to notice the switch.
you took a shot that was knocked out of bounds by the keeper, resulting in a corner. you thought your position was good, near the goal, but a bit further away from defenders and misa. she had been putting in the work to block your shots, even going as far as complimenting you on your progress during half-time.
"it's up!" you shouted as you jumped up to head the ball in. you felt something collide with your stomach, knocking you backwards before you could hit the ball. your body was shot back a few feet. alexia had always nagged you about your positioning during corners, claiming that it tended to be in dangerous spots. as you flew backwards towards the goal post, you realized just what she meant.
your head hit the post with a sickening crack. it wasn't a thud, and you didn't move an inch. misa immediately moved to crouch down next to you. she didn't know what to do, but anger filled her as she realized that none of your teammates were coming over to check on you. they all assumed that you were faking it. it wasn't until you hadn't moved for a couple of minutes that any of them sprung into action.
ingrid was the first one by your side. she knelt down next to you and gently moved your head to see where it hit. a wave of nausea washed over her as she saw the blood dripping out from the back of your head. if it wasn't for the small, shallow breaths, ingrid would have thought you were dead.
"pequena, come on, wake up," ingrid pleaded with you. alexia was the next one by your side. it took every ounce of her strength not to just break down as she looked at you. "she's not moving alexia. i don't know what to do."
"we have to let them take her. she'll probably wake up at the hospital," alexia said. it was more for herself than ingrid. she didn't want to finish the game anymore. alexia didn't want to do anything until she knew that you were alright. there wasn't a player on the field who wasn't in some form of distress over what they saw happen to you. for a moment, the whole world seemed to care about you, but you weren't awake to see it.
it took nearly two days for you to stablize, and even longer for you to wake up. your parents had stopped by, but only briefly. they had been back in barcelona on business when the game was going on. it was a lucky break that they had been able to show up, despite the fact that you were their only child.
alexia was sickened by the way they dismissed you, even as you laid there in a coma. she may have been the most strict with you and always at her wit's end with your pranks, but alexia loved you. she wanted to protect you, and seeing you in the hospital bed killed her. still, she didn't let herself break down in fear that you'd wake up to see her like that.
"it's been nearly a week," lucy said as she glanced at your bed. "have they said anything?"
"the swelling in her brain is still going down. they've only just been able to go in and repair the damage to her skull. we're all lucky that she didn't hit her head in any other spot or she'd be dead," alexia said. she was just repeating what the doctor had rattled off in rapid spanish back to her english teammate. you had always been fond of lucy, and so lucy decided that she'd stay in your hospital room with you.
"she'll make it out of this, alexia. (y/n), she's a tough little brat," lucy said. alexia needed the reassurance almost as much as she needed you to wake up.
"thank you." alexia reached out to hold lucy's hand. it was as she started to pull hers out of yours that she felt movement. you tried to squeeze her hand and pull it back towards you as you stirred in your sleep. alexia didn't want to get too excited, but lucy shot straight up from her seat.
"(y/n), are you awake?" you heard lucy's voice, but it sounded muffled and a bit echoed. alexia leaned closer towards you as your eyes fluttered open. you let out a small groan at all of the bright lights and your body's sudden discomfort. your head hurt in a way that sent waves of pain all over your body.
"ale, i hurt," you whined. alexia had tried so hard to keep herself composed, and for the most part, it had worked. however, the moment that you looked at her with pain and confusion in your eyes, the dam broke. alexia's head shot down to rest against the side of your bed, but you could tell from the way that her body shook that she was crying. "ale?"
"it's okay, (y/n), she needs this. i'll be right back, okay? i have to get the doctors and call the team," lucy said. you nodded, obviously not going anywhere. lucy was back fairly quickly, and alexia was rushed outside as the doctors caught you up on what happened and ran a few tests. by the time that they were finished, the majority of the team had arrived and were all packed into your room.
"i am glad that you're okay," alexia said as she took your hand in hers. it had taken a couple of hours for the team to stop doting on you, but now things felt normal again. you felt like you were in the locker room, with the exception of alexia, who hadn't left your side. "you scared us all back there… including me. especially me, actually. i'm so sorry that i wasn't there sooner, i don't know what i would have done if you'd…"
"i'm fine, alexia, so you don't have to think like that. mapi's taking me back with her because my parents just left for america and won't be back for another six months. ingrid will be practically begging you for help supervising us," you said with a smile. alexia cracked a small one as well. she was a little fuzzy on the details of your relation to mapi, as was everybody, but the woman had always treated you like her little sister. all anybody needed to know was that you were her family, and all you needed to know was that mapi would always be there for you.
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Note
Okay so this is my first request even having read all your work always forget to request something but i just had this random idea. So basically i had acl surgery today (wont get into that 😂) but i was just wondering if you could possibly right a fic about Lando where girlfriend gets surgery and basically like the whole thing is just fluff tbh add whatever u want or whatever surgery if u actually write this. But i just feel like lando would definitely make me feel loved after surgery
I'll Meet You There - LN
I'm switching this up, inspired by the Williams driver below. We're going in for the kill with emergency surgery to get that appendix removed. But dw! Bc super protective, fluffy, loving, caring, worried Lando is going to be in full swing.
Also I hope you are healing and feeling better. I'm sorry this took a while to write and upload. I didn't actually realise it would be this long but I think it's worth it (I hope). Love ya lots, and thank you for the request, please feel free to send in more!
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Y/n had figured the pain was cramps or maybe just one of those random pains that we all get, have a momentary panic of an organ failing then it goes away. She really assumed it was all nothing. Then the pain got worse and she got a fever, her skin got so prickly she could handle anyone even brushing past her without it making her whole body ache.
Lando has been thrown into the Las Vegas rush of media and showboating. So he hasn't seen much of her, but his trainer Jon, has very much noticed her quickly deteriorating health.
"I'll tell him later. Y/n, you really need to get to the hospital but if this is the only compromise you have to promise you'll do as they say." Jon instructs as she winces getting to the medical centre.
"Please don't tell him if there's nothing wrong."
Jon withholds a scoff. If there's nothing wrong then someone is lying to them.
He thinks ahead figuring he'll end up trusting her to be left with the doctor and leaves instructions for him to be contacted as soon as they know what's going on.
What he doesn't expect is for her to be called for an ambulance and a heads up that she'll need to be immediately taken in for emergency surgery because her appendix is possibly minutes away from rupturing.
A moral dilemma of telling Lando is on the brink, but when y/n grabs Jon's collar and yanks him close to her as she pants in pain. He knows it's not a choice he's going to get to make.
"Do not dare tell him about this. Go be his trainer, not his friend. He can be mad about it later, but he's needs to focus on the race and just-ok, I can't keep talking." Y/n winces with her whole body twitching in pain.
"Alright, no telling him till after the race."
"Good. Ok. Go." She nods only managing one word between each ragged breath.
-
Turned out that Lando didn't even make it to the lap 5, a bump in the track left him slamming into a wall. The hit was hard and he ended up with his own trip to the same hospital that y/n is currently having surgery in.
Jon with him, he does take a moment of Lando being examined to rush and find out what is happening with y/n.
"Hi, can I check what is happening with y/n y/l/n? She was brought in for emergency surgery due to appendicitis." Jon states making the nurse look at him for a moment. "I'm the reason she even bothered to see a doctor to send her here. He boyfriend is the F1 driver who just came in after a crash and he doesn't know, I have to tell him. Please, tell me good news."
"She's still in surgery. But her appendix ruptured on the way here. It's going to be longer than initially expected due to that and there may be complications. I will try to find out more but mid-surgery, it's hard to really get any information." The nurse sighs making him grimace but nod.
Appendicitis is pretty notorious for it's risk of quickly taking a bad turn. If it's caught early enough then it's less likely for it to be such a threat to life.
Now he has to tell Lando. Although the driver has been given drugs to ease his pain from the crash, so maybe it won't be so bad of a reaction to the news. But even with drugs, Lando will likely not be happy.
"Hey, mate. How you feeling?" Jon asks making Lando look over at him for a moment looking a little like he's slowly processing it.
"Good. Better. Have you got my phone though? Just want to let some people know I'm alright, especially y/n. She'll be freaking out." Lando nods making a grabby hand for his phone.
"Y/n...is actually in the hospital." Jon states hesitantly before making sure to quickly add that it's not for Lando. "She's in emergency surgery for appendicitis."
"She what? What do you mean? When did she-Why did you not tell me?!"
"Because she knew you'd freak out and I think she hoped the surgery would be finished by the time you finished the race."
Almost as if she felt summoned the nurse he'd asked about y/n appears and looks at Lando for a moment before looking at Jon.
"The surgery is going well given the circumstances. They believe she'll be out within the hour and they'll just need to hold her for observation to make sure there's nothing wrong."
"Thank you." Jon nods but Lando has sat himself up.
"Sorry, what circumstances? Can someone fill me in?"
"Y/n's appendix did rupture before they got her into surgery. But it's going well and that's all you need to worry about." Jon states making Lando looks like he is in shock at Jon being so dismissive about it. "She's ok. You'll see her soon."
-
Lando refused to leave the hospital till y/n was out of surgery and he could at least see her. So he waited and eventually got to see her, she's on a few monitors and still knocked out from the surgery, but it's obvious she's being well cared for.
"Can you go back to the paddock and just tell everyone what's going on?" Lando asks with a heavy sigh earning an immediate nod from his trainer.
"Yeah, I'll sort everything out. You just let me know when she wakes up and if she's ok." Jon states making Lando nod before the two exchange a hug and Lando settles himself down beside her.
Lando ends up scrolling through his phone for a while. Updating his Instagram about y/n and the fact she was in the hospital getting her appendix removed without him knowing anything about it while he was racing.
It takes another hour for her to wake up and Lando is more than relieved.
"Finally back to the land of the living." Lando smiles softly while she looks at him with a grin. "Never ever ever, hide this shit from me again."
"Pretty sure I can only get my appendix removed the once." She laughs then shivering a little. "Fucking hell it's freezing in here."
That makes Lando act quickly to press the nurse button and get extra blankets for his girlfriend while almost making to climb into the bed with her while being cautious of not causing any damage or pain since she does have staples from the surgery.
"Hold on...why are you still in your race suit?" Y/n asks realising that Lando's still completely dressed from the race.
"I crashed...had to come here for some tests because it was...a pretty big impact."
"I'm going to assume you're ok."
"Yeah, I'm fine." Lando nods while kissing her temple. "I was more concerned when Jon finally told me about you...how much was it hurting?"
"I was sick in the ambulance and that's why it ruptured. Then I passed out, or at least that's how I remember it." Y/n explains before smiling at her. "I'm just glad I can't feel that shit again. Because it fucking felt like I was dying."
Lando feels his stomach feel churn just at the thought. Especially since he was completely unaware that she was at all that ill.
"I'm just glad you're ok." Lando sighs then sighing as his phone rings. "It's Andrea."
"Answer it, he'll want to check that you're ok." Y/n smiles patting Lando's chest.
Lando hums answering the phone and putting it on speaker so she can hear exactly what the team principal says.
"Hey, Lando. Is y/n awake and ok?"
Y/n can't even stop herself from laughing while Lando chuckles.
"Yeah, I'm good. Gonna probably be left behind for some recovery time. Feels like they moved some stuff around inside of me to get to my appendix." Y/n giggles since herself and Andrea do spend a lot of time together since she likes to go up to him and bug him often. His soft spot for her means she probably should've predicted he'd be more concerned about her.
But equally Jon would've made it priority to inform him that Lando is completely fine and has only not returned because of y/n.
"That's good. Jon said that you're alright, Lando. We'll loop you in for the debrief on call-"
"No. He's on his way back."
"No. I'm not."
"Yes, because I need you to grab me stuff from the hotel anyway. So if you go to the debrief, then the hotel and grab me all the stuff I might need then it works out for everyone." Y/n smiles before she yawns lightly and groans a little. "Please?"
Lando really doesn't want to leave her. The expression on his face says that the last thing he wants is to be anywhere but by her side until she's discharged because then he knows she really is ok and there's no risk of things taking a sudden and unexpected turn.
"Alright, fine. I'll be at the debrief as soon as I can get back." Lando sighs after a very prolonged silence.
"Great, well I'll see you soon. Y/n please keep us all informed, especially Lando since he already sounds unhappy about this." Andrea states making her look at him for a moment.
"No problem." Y/n smiles while looking at an annoyed looking Lando watching her.
The call ends and Lando sighs getting up, carefully making sure she's not risking bursting those staples.
"I love you." Lando grunts making the young woman sigh at him. "Don't give me that look. I don't want to leave you."
"I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here while you're gone and I'll be here when you come back." Y/n promises making him hum, still clearly upset about leaving her. "I love you."
"Please call and text me if there's any change. I'm going to make sure the hospital has me as your next of kin. I don't want anyone else contacted if something happens."
"You...You want to be my next of kin?" Y/n questions, her voice wobbling a little which makes Lando look at her in shock that she'd even ask.
"Baby, the fact that I'm not already is annoying as it is." Lando smiles lightly moving to kiss her. "I'm going to make sure this is the quickest debrief ever. Especially since I only did 3 full laps."
"Do you know what to grab from the hotel or do you want me to send you a list?" Y/n asks making him scoff. "Alright, now you're just getting cocky."
"We'll see about that when I bring everything you need and only every you need. Maybe a couple things that you want."
Y/n smiles a little since she completely trusts Lando. He makes the effort to know this sort of thing because it really means something to her and he knows it.
"I'll see you soon then." Y/n whispers earning another kiss.
"Yes you will."
-
Now when Lando returns with multiple of the other drivers all of whom discovered why she had disappeared and decided they would all be paying her a visit.
"This is for you." Lando smiles handing her a gift bag and card as everyone sits down with what appears to be a feast of food. "You can't eat, but I check and the nurse said we could try a milkshake."
"Thank you...whats the card and gift?"
"Alex's...suggestion." Lando hints making her raise an eyebrow.
She opens the card first and nearly chokes on her spit when she sees the front.
"Sorry for your loss." Y/n cackles earning a grin from Lando and Alex. "You are both such muppets."
"You'll feel the loss more when you're out of the hospital." Alex declares while she looks at him almost too amused to be able to contain her laughter. Plus she doesn't want to explain to a doctor she split the staples from laughing too hard because her boyfriend and his friend got a her a sympathy card for her appendix.
"I'm going to keep this forever for the record." Y/n states earning a grin from both Alex and Lando before Lando moves to sit with her and they seem to have the most un-Vegas post-race celebration ever.
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literaila · 2 months
Text
emotions
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you and megumi discuss how terrible satoru is
warnings: little spat between gojo and megumi, reader is the only sane one, lil fluff, and pining ofc
last part | next part
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*
year three.
you're used to the door slamming open every day when they get home--and you've given up on scolding all of your family members about it--but what you're not used to is megumi storming through the door, his aura a dark and stormy color as he walks by you, not even bothering to look your way, and slamming the door to his room. all within a good three seconds. 
and, okay. you blink, trying to comprehend him, or what just happened. 
satoru comes in next, slower, more peaceful, shutting the front door softly like it'll make up for megumi's actions. for whatever he probably did. 
you immediately turn towards him, frowning. "what'd you do?" 
"why did i have to do something?" satoru asks, scoffing. "the kid is a glorified teenager. or an old man. he's moody." 
"yeah, but he didn't even say hi to me," you cross your arms, trying to analyze his body language and the twitch of his lips. 
satoru waves a hand at you. "join the club." 
"seriously. is he okay?" 
satoru kicks at the floor, mumbling something indecipherable under his breath. 
"satoru." 
he looks up, almost pouting. 
"what happened?" 
"i was just teasing him--" he's already pleading for mercy, taking a step towards you with his arms out. "i didn't even say anything bad. i just said something about his attitude, and he told me to leave him alone, and i... i didn't do anything!" he swears. 
and you both know that he's lying. you sigh, shaking your head at him. 
"did you listen when he told you to stop?" 
"no," satoru says, with a fake smile. 
"then you did something," you take a step away from him, watching as he slides off his jacket, then his glasses. "what were you teasing him about?" 
"he was telling me about some kids at school. i guess they're scared of him, or something." 
you raise a brow. 
his hand gestures to megumi's room, helplessly. "you know him and i like to mess with each other, i didn't think that he would... get upset." 
you almost laugh, because he looks so guilty, unknowing, and childish. and you can tell--by a mere glance--that satoru feels bad, and doesn't want to admit that. 
you snort, still shaking your head. this man is the sole cause of all of your problems. "okay, well you should apologize to him, and listen when he asks you to do something--" 
"no." 
"excuse me?" 
"will you talk to him instead?" he pleads, tilting his head at you. "you're so much better with him, and he'll listen to you." 
"satoru," you frown. "i didn't do anything. megumi doesn't need an apology from me." 
"but he's just going to yell at me," he whines, body flailing pathetically as he emphasizes this point. "and he's scary when he yells." 
"he's nine." 
satoru shakes his head. 
you flick his forehead. "honestly, all you have to do is say that you were wrong. easy." 
"i don't wanna say that," he mumbles, feebly, crossing his arms like a toddler.
you groan. "satoru--" 
"i have to go pick up tsumiki anyway. please? just talk to him? do you really want him to sit in his room all alone and be all gloomy?" 
satoru's lip twitches because he knows that he's got you there. just the idea of megumi brooding alone is enough to break you. 
you scowl at him, crossing your arms with a knowing glance. "i'm going to let megumi punch you, and then i'm going to do it myself." 
"we're not supposed to encourage violence." 
you roll your eyes. "go get tsumiki. do not be late again. i'll see how he's feeling, but we're going to talk trash about you, just so you know." 
"see? this is why i love you." satoru grins, then pecks your cheek. "okay, got to go! good luck," he says and swings himself out the door. 
and honestly, how did you get stuck with him? 
*
you give him a couple of minutes before you knock on the door, assuming that any space he has to cool off is probably good. but you can only wait so long. 
there's a worry somewhere in your chest, the fear that you won't know how to mend the rift between the two boys. but the other part of you feels easy, simple. 
kind of how you assume satoru feels about most things. 
if you can't fix it, you think, he probably can. 
"hey," you whisper, peeking into his room. the lights are off. "can i come in?" 
megumi shrugs. he's sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, looking like a forlorn statue. 
so you go in anyway, stepping over the backpack he threw on the floor and the books cascading out of it to sit next to him on his bed. 
it's actually a little hard not to laugh because even though he's grumpy, megumi is so cute. his little scrunched-up eyebrows and his pout make you want to squeeze him forever. you want to coo over him, or say something inappropriate, but you refrain. because you are not satoru, and you will never be. 
"how was school?" you ask, after you've settled in on his dinosaur sheets, watching him pick at something on his pants. 
he shrugs again. 
"wow. glowing remarks." 
megumi doesn't even smirk a little. 
you tilt your head, trying to meet his eyes. "do you want to talk?" you ask softly, trying so hard not to prod. even though you will.  
"no." 
you smile, a little. "too bad," you tell him, rolling your eyes for show, "you didn't say hello or give me my hug when you came in. talking is your punishment." 
"sorry," he mumbles. 
"i'll let it slide this time--only this time--okay, kid?" you give him a hard look and he nods immediately. you smile at him again, leaning up. "what happened with satoru?"
"nothing." 
"unforunately for you, he's a gossip so..." 
he rolls his eyes. "he was just being annoying."
"naturally. did he make you mad?" 
megumi nods. 
"did you tell him that?" 
he shakes his head. 
"okay. what'd you say when he started annoying you?" 
"to stop." 
"and then he didn't, so..." you hint, nudging him.
"i told him to leave me alone." 
"what'd he say to that?" 
megumi sighs. "he just said that i'm adorable when i'm mad." 
because of course he would. satoru is probably the worst person in the world. the sole cultivator of everything terrible. 
and, for some reason, you're kinda obsessed with him. 
"yeah," you shake your head, grumbling internally. "i'd expect nothing less from him. i'm sorry he didn't listen, though." 
megumi finally looks at you. "you are?" 
you raise your brows. "well, yeah. if you want to be left alone, then he should leave you alone." 
megumi looks at you skeptically. "you're not going to tell me that i shouldn't have gotten mad at him?" 
"um," you frown. "no. you're entitled to your emotions, megs. you can feel whatever you want." 
he frowns, too, but doesn't say anything. he's stuck somewhere you'll probably never reach. 
but you try to meet his eyes anyway. "and satoru'll be getting a lecture from me, don't worry," megumi smiles a little at that, looking a little more like the boy you're used to. "but i just wanted to tell you that you can talk about it with me, if you want. nobody understands being angry with satoru like i do." 
he looks away again. his fists clench, briefly, and he makes a sound at the back of his throat. "i just--why doesn't he leave me alone? he always teases me, even when i'm trying to be serious, or when i tell him to stop." 
you nod in agreement, letting the words sit for a moment. and then you say, "i think that satoru thinks if he never takes anything seriously, then the negative emotions and all of the things he doesn't want to think about won't matter to him. or as much."
"but they do matter." 
"they do. and if he's irritating you, you should tell him that." 
"i try." 
your lip twitches. "satoru's not the easiest person to talk to. but he's a lot like you, you know? in that way." 
megumi frowns. "how?" 
"you don't really like to talk about these things do you?" you ask, seriously. 
megumi thinks for a moment, fingers messing with the bedsheets, and then shakes his head, slowly, like he doesn't want to admit it. 
"satoru doesn't like it either. and he feels things the same way you do--very deeply, and seriously. that's why he always messes around. and why he frustrates you." you stop, thinking about how to explain this to a kid. how to explain it to yourself. "well, you know how when there's only one melon soda left and you give it to tsumiki, or when you let her pick the movie?" 
megumi nods. 
"that's your way of putting her first. because you love her. but it's different then the way that she loves you, right?"
"yeah. she says it, a lot," he rolls his eyes, familiar with the antics of tsumiki.
you smile. "and she gives those hugs where she tries to crack your ribs," you emphasize it by squeezing his shoulder, making him laugh. 
you swallow, shrugging. "you both show your love differently. everyone does. but tsumiki isn't afraid to let anyone know that she loves them, and satoru is, i think. and you're like that." 
he looks down at his lap, contemplating this. satoru might think that you understand megumi better than he does, that the two of you are easy, but you feel like you're standing on uneven ground. 
everything is so clear in your head. but you can't clarify the interworkings of someone as complicated as satoru for megumi. you can barely clarify him for yourself. 
"i don't know if that's the right way to put it..." you sigh. "well, i like to talk things out. like right now. i want to talk about how i feel, and why. that's how i process everything. but satoru doesn't do that. usually, he'll refuse to." you nudge megumi. "and that's okay, sometimes. but i think he's taught you to do the same, on accident." 
"that's not bad, though," he mutters, frowning. 
"no, not all of the time. but it also means that his emotions come out in his actions. like teasing you, or when he tries to get all of us to sleep in his room." 
megumi rolls his eyes again and you laugh. 
"there's no bad way to show the people that you love that you love them, but when you don't talk about things, or you try not to show those emotions, they get stuck." you poke his chest. "and then they break out, like today, and it's too many feelings all at once." 
megumi nods. 
"so when he's annoying you, you have to tell him. or if you need a break from him, or me, or tsumiki, you should say that." 
it's advice for all of you. some secret that you don't want megumi to know about--the part of you that's lying to him. the unspoken things you don't say--emotions buried so deep beneath your surface that they'll never see the sun. 
you can see the thoughts as they pass over his face, still dark, still stormy, but lighter now. 
eventually, he nods, meeting your eyes. "okay."
you give him a half smirk, leaning down just a little. "but you can't be mean about it, alright? i know today was hard, and satoru was pushing you, but it's still not okay to snap at him." 
megumi curls in a little. "i'm sorry." 
"i'm not mad, buddy," you assure him, ruffling his hair. "and neither is satoru. we're just here to help you, you know? but you have to let us in so we can. you can depend on us, i promise. and you have to be nice, because i can't deal with another satoru." 
he laughs, just a little. you rest your head on his. "i'm here if you want to talk about it," you tell him, "today, or anything else that's bothering you." 
"i know." 
and you feel like he does, just a little bit. he's a very smart kid, and you know that when you leave he'll think about it some more--put it into words that work for him. 
honestly, most of the time his intelligence frightens you--like you'll never be able to slow him down, or make sure that you're on the same page. but at least there's some use for it. 
you sit up. "good. now i'm going to leave you alone, but when satoru gets home and he apologizes, try not to yell at him?" you plead, only partly joking. "he's sensitive." 
megumi scowls, but nods anyway. 
you stand up, nudging his leg with your foot and then you step back over the maze of his things, turning the doorknob. 
"y/n?" 
you turn back, brows raised. "yeah, bud?" 
"do you want to... play cards, or something?" 
and finally, you laugh. just a little. 
*
"how'd it go?" 
"megumi said that he didn't like my haircut, and that i needed to review my wardrobe situation." 
"and?" 
"he's okay." 
you sigh out in relief. "good," you say, looking back down at the paperwork you're supposed to be filling out. the teaching courses, and jujutsu regulations, course handbooks, and bills... 
satoru sits down next to you, looking over all of the papers with a frown. "this is disgusting," he says, nudging your hand away from the pen you're lingering on. 
"true."
"take a break," he hooks his leg around yours. "let's talk." 
you sigh again. "we really need to get this stuff done, satoru." 
he shrugs. "we'll do it tomorrow." 
"you said that yesterday, too." 
"and i was right..." 
but you relent, and you turn so that you're sitting facing him on the couch, your legs crossed in front of you. 
"hey," he whispers, softly, grinning. 
"hi." 
"how was your day?" 
"boring. all i did was clean the house and wait for you and the kids to get home." 
he leans in, eyes crinkled. "can you imagine what your life would be like without me?" 
"not even a little bit. you take up all of my time."
satoru smiles, adoringly. he leans his forehead against yours. 
you want to push him away, or roll your eyes, or ask him more about his talk with megumi, or if he checked on tsumiki, but you don't. 
you just let a small, tired smile rest upon your lips and close your eyes. 
satoru is close enough to smell. his warmth is almost mechanical, unmoving. and everything about him feels sort of unbelievable. he's so close. close enough to touch and taste, if you were that daring. 
but you're not. 
"you okay?" you whisper to him, feeling his breath against your cupid's bow. you refrain a shiver. 
"i'm good," he says, voice soft and low. "you okay?" 
"i'm good." 
satoru nods against you. there's a whole minute where the two of you sit just like that, no need for words or movements. 
it's nice like this, you think. with him and nothing else. you don't get a break very often nowadays--and you don't mind it, really--but sitting with him is enough to not care. who needs a break when you've got your best friend, curled against you like a vice you'll never ever touch?
and then satoru asks, "do you think i mess with megumi too much?" 
"yes," you say, immediately, opening your eyes to meet his glorious blue ones. satoru is pouting, so you continue. "but he loves you anyway." 
just like i do, you think, so brief there's no time to push it away in your mind. 
"yeah?" 
"god knows why," you say, rolling your eyes, laughing when he bends down to tickle your neck with his nose, sniffing against you like a dog. 
but you do know why. and the paperwork can wait until tomorrow. 
*
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
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hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)
I can do a few!
.....
Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy
While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.
And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"
Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?
Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.
When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.
In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...
But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.
You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.
Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".
You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.
Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.
Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).
"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"
But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.
No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.
He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.
Dogday
"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."
"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.
Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.
He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.
Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.
After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.
But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...
He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -
"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."
"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.
He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.
You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.
Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.
Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.
But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.
Catnap
He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.
It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.
But those memories mean nothing to him.
All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.
Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.
He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.
Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?
It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.
You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.
Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.
Miss Delight
The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.
While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.
It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.
But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.
Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..
And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.
"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.
When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.
She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.
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steddiehyperfixation · 5 months
Text
don't you forget about me (part four)
(part one)(part two)(part three)
Eddie wakes from a thankfully dreamless sleep, his head on his pillow now, which is somehow far less comfortable than Steve’s solid chest. Speaking of… Eddie looks around; Steve isn’t there at all anymore, and Eddie is alone. He’s disappointed, though not entirely surprised, that Harrington’s left him again despite his promises. 
In fact, he’s honestly more surprised when less than two minutes into his wallowing in the empty room, the door is pushed open by none other than Steve Harrington carrying two trays of food, one balanced on each hand like a goddamn waiter. It’s kind of adorable, actually, Eddie thinks, and that thought surprises him a little too. 
“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning.” Steve sets one of the trays on Eddie’s lap. His smile is bright, though there’s a slight, uncertain wobble to it. “Shitty hospital food and shitty hospital TV, right?” 
“Right.” Eddie’s face breaks into a grin, something light unfurling in his chest. He glances at the plate of gross food on his lap then back up at Steve, and he admits, “You know, for a second there I thought you’d left again.” 
Steve shakes his head as he settles into the chair beside the bed with his own tray. “I promised you I’d hang out today. I’m a man of my word.”
“Good.” Eddie smiles and grabs a remote off the bedside table, turning on the TV. “Now for our mealtime entertainment, let’s see what’s on the shitty TV today.”
The television starts blaring some old black-and-white rerun of I Love Lucy. Eddie’s immediately about to change the channel, but then he notices the way Steve’s eyes have lit up. “Hey, that’s not shitty TV!” Steve says. “I used to watch this with my mom all the time when I was a kid.” 
Eddie snorts. “Of course you did.”  
Steve gives him an indignant look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Nothing.” Eddie shakes his head evasively, shoveling a forkful of rubbery scrambled eggs into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything else. 
Steve just rolls his eyes, almost affectionately, like they’ve had conversations like this before. He chews on a flimsy piece of bacon and makes a face, nose scrunching up. “Ugh, you really weren’t kidding about the shitty food, though.” 
“Nope,” Eddie laughs, “I really wasn’t. Thanks for catering it though.” He swallows down another mouthful of food, and then adds with a little less levity, “And, uh, thanks for last night, too - for calming me down. Don’t think I’ve said that yet.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve gives a small smile, shrug, slight shake of his head, a tiny pinch between his brows like he doesn't quite get why Eddie even feels the need to thank him for that. “That's what I’m here for. I just hope I didn't cross any boundaries or anything, holding onto you like that.” 
Now it's Eddie's turn to give him a confused little smile and a head shake. “No, of course not. That was exactly what I needed.” He attempts to add some humor back into the conversation, jokingly quips, “Although, to be fair, I never did think that King Steve would ever be caught dead in a bed with The Freak.”
Steve had hazarded another bite of his breakfast, trying the eggs this time, only to choke on it at Eddie’s comment. He coughs, hits his fist against his chest, and hurriedly takes a sip from the water bottle on his tray. 
“Jesus.” Eddie tries not to take offense, assuming Steve’s reaction to be one of disgust at the double entendre. “That bad of a thought, huh?” 
Steve shakes his head and clears his throat, face flushed. “No, no, it’s not that, man. Food just went down the wrong pipe, is all.” 
“Uh huh…” 
“Seriously.” Steve gulps down some more water, quiet for a moment before adding, “You know I’m not King Steve anymore, right? Haven’t been for a while now, since even long before your memories end.” 
“Yeah, I know. You ditched Tommy H. and Carol your junior year, and then Nancy Wheeler dumped you and Billy Hargrove stole your crown and bashed your face in your senior year, I remember,” Eddie recalls. “But for the most part you were still well-known and well-liked, still this popular, pretty, rich boy jock all the girls still drooled over, so.” He shrugs. “Always figured ‘King’ still fit.” 
“Right…” Steve raises his eyebrows as Eddie lists off these events of his life, looking at him with a smirk of barely-hidden amusement. “I forgot you were obsessed with me.”  
Eddie’s jaw drops in exaggerated offense. “I was not obsessed with you.” 
“Were too,” Steve taunts.
“Was not.” 
“Were too.” 
“Was not.” Eddie chucks a piece of bacon at him. 
Steve gasps indignantly as the bacon slaps him in the face and tumbles onto his lap. “You child!” But he’s laughing, retaliates by flinging a forkful of eggs back at Eddie. 
The conversation devolves into a full-on food fight, shrieking and cackling as they pelt each other with flying bits of eggs and bacon. It turns out shitty hospital food serves far better as ammunition than it does as anything actually edible. 
A nurse chooses the exact wrong time to decide to come in and check on Eddie, walking into the room at just the right moment to be caught in the crossfire and hit with a stray chunk of egg. Both boys freeze. 
“Uh oh…” Eddie mutters under his breath. Just his luck - it’s not the young, nice nurse, Katie, who always laughs at his jokes, but Nurse Margaret, the old, mean one who he’s never once seen crack a smile. She flicks the egg bit off her shoulder, leveling them with a stern frown as she marches over. 
Eddie casts a furtive glance at Steve who looks back at him, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh again, and Eddie feels mirth bubbling back up in his own chest too. He has to look away from Steve again before he loses it. 
He sucks his lips in, clamping them together between his teeth to hold in his laughter, and he stares up at Margaret with a thin-lipped, guilty, upside down smile as she chides them both for making a mess and scolds Eddie for exerting himself and risking reopening his wounds. Steve mumbles an apology and starts cleaning up the scattered bits of food strewn about the room while Margaret double checks that Eddie hasn’t, in fact, reopened his wounds or gotten worse in any way. Once the nurse is satisfied with both the state of the room and the state of Eddie, she whisks away what’s left of their food trays and stalks out of the room with one last disapproving look over her shoulder.
Then and only then does Eddie risk eye-contact with Steve again, and the two of them immediately burst back into laughter. Steve nearly doubles over with it, leaning against the trash can where he’d just been dusting off his hands. “Oh my god,” he chuckles out. “Her face when I hit her with that egg? I was so sure she was gonna kick me out.” 
“Nearly gave mean old Margaret an aneurysm, and that was just from hitting her shoulder,” Eddie snickers. “Imagine if you hit her in the eye or something.” 
Steve does his best impression of Margaret’s angry scowl and reproachful huff, and Eddie cackles. He laughs so hard his sides ache and his injuries hurt, wounds aggravated by the movement of his laughter, but he doesn’t care, the pain far too distant beneath the cushion of painkillers and positive emotion he currently feels so high on. 
“You’ve still got some egg in your hair,” Steve notices with another amused snort as he pushes himself away from the trash can and approaches Eddie’s bed again. He plucks the offending bit of food out of Eddie’s curls and smooths down the hair where it had been stuck. “There.” 
Steve’s fingertips brush ever so lightly against Eddie’s cheek when he fixes his hair. It sends a pleasant sort of shiver down Eddie’s spine, turning his laughter to breathless giggles just for a moment. “Thanks.”
Steve flicks the egg chunk into the trash before sinking back into the bedside chair with a soft sigh and a warm smile. “God, I missed this,” he says, “just laughing with you.” 
“Yeah.” Eddie returns the grin. For him, of course, this is the first time they’ve laughed together like this, but he has to admit he’s already rather fond of it. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed that hard.”
Steve’s smile turns nostalgic, like he can remember the last time Eddie laughed like that, like he was there for it. “It’s a good look on you - laughter,” he says, so quietly Eddie almost feels like maybe it wasn’t meant for him to hear. And Eddie can’t help but think that laughter is a pretty good look on Steve too, all rosy cheeks and shining eyes.
“How did we become friends?” Eddie asks, before his previous thought can take any sort of root. 
The nostalgia in Steve’s expression only grows. “It was the beginning of June, start of summer, probably only a few weeks after your memories stop. I was working at the Scoops Ahoy in Starcourt, that new mall that had just opened, and you wandered in,” he says, looking at Eddie with a teasing glint to his eyes, “because you were obsessed with me-”
“Was not,” Eddie protests immediately.
“Were too,” Steve laughs. “Anyways, you saw me in my stupid little sailor uniform trying and very obviously failing to chat up a girl at the counter, and you came in just to laugh at me, actually.” 
“Okay, that does sound like me,” Eddie concedes with a grin. He probably walked in there just for the sailor costume alone, if he’s being honest with himself. That’s something he’d kill to see - just for a good laugh, of course. “Do you still have that uniform? It might, you know, jog my memory a little if you were to bring it in one day,” he suggests slyly. 
“You and that uniform, man,” Steve scoffs and shakes his head like this is something they’ve talked about many, many times before, enough for it to become a predictable sort of annoyance, a longsuffering inside joke. “No, I don’t still have it. Threw it out first chance I had, not to mention it got totally ruined when the- uh, when the mall burned down.” 
Eddie’s eyes go slightly wide. “The mall burned down? While you were there?” 
“Yeah- well, sort of,” Steve falters, a shadow falling over his expression, and he shakes his head again. “It’s kind of a long story, and not the one I’m telling right now.” 
“Right, yeah, shit.” Eddie waves his hand as if to erase everything he’d said before. “Forget I mentioned it.” He, more than anyone, understands not wanting to relive bad memories right now. “Continue the other story. How did we go from me making fun of you to us being besties?”
The shadow lifts as Steve returns to that memory. “Oh, yeah. I told you the show wasn’t free and that you needed to order something or leave. So you bought a milkshake, which I somehow managed to end up completely spilling all over the both of us when I tried to hand it to you. You were livid,” he chuckles, “thought I’d done it on purpose, even though I definitely hadn’t. I felt so bad I insisted on helping you clean up. You were icy about it, but you let me show you to the sink in the backroom and accepted the jacket I lent you so you wouldn’t have to walk around with ice cream stains on your shirt all day.” 
“That’s quite the meet-cute,” Eddie jokes. “Are you sure you’re describing our friendship and not some rom-com chick flick you watched last week?” 
“Nah, true story, honest. It wasn’t a rom-com,” Steve says, and though he smiles, there’s an odd sadness to it too. He shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, you clearly warmed up to me after that because you came back the next day to return the jacket and apologize for being a bit of a dick before, and then you gave me this whole ‘you’re actually a good dude’ speech and told me to give you a call if I ever wanted to split a joint or something. I took you up on it that same night; it had been a rough day at work and I figured why not, so I came over and we smoked and we talked and we got along like a house on fire - better than either of us expected, I think. And that was our thing, then, after that - smoking and talking. Sometimes weed, sometimes just cigarettes, and sometimes we just smoked and didn’t talk, and then sometimes we just talked and didn’t smoke; until eventually we started doing other things together too besides just talking and smoking, we were just hanging out. At that point we were friends, practically inseparable, and then we-” Steve stops himself, a shade of melancholy reentering his dim smile once more. “We only got closer from there.” 
“That sounds nice…” Eddie tries to remember it, really digs deep in his mind for any sort of spark of memory or recognition in Steve’s words, but it’s empty. It all just sounds like a story to him, doesn’t settle anywhere real. It’s a good story, sure, one he’d like to experience, one he aches to connect with, but a story nonetheless, only words, only fiction. “I wish I could remember that.” 
“Me too,” Steve says, and Eddie hates how sad he looks, hates even more that he’s the cause of it. 
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make new memories, then!” Eddie declares with a theatrical amount of enthusiasm as he flashes Steve a bright grin, all in the hopes of chasing that sadness back off of his face. “Won’t we, my friend?” 
Success; Steve seems a little startled by Eddie’s sudden gusto, but he laughs and smiles, the real kind this time that shines in his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess we will.”
Eddie does his best to keep the conversation away from their past after that, not only in an attempt to keep the light in Steve’s expression but for his own sake too. It’s a strange thing to be reminded of the fact that he shares a history with someone and has no memory of it, to be around someone who seems to know everything about him while he feels as though they’ve only just met.
For the most part, hanging out with Steve is nice and fun and easy - there’s something so natural, familiar, about the way they talk, the way they banter, the way they sit together even in the silences. But sometimes Eddie will say something that makes a sadness flicker in Steve’s eyes again, or sometimes Steve will say something that makes Eddie wonder just what secrets this guy knows about him and his skin crawls with that old discomfited itch. They’re both quick with a joke, a redirection, whenever the other’s expression falters, though, like Steve is trying to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel uncomfortable just as much as Eddie is trying to make sure Steve doesn’t feel sad. 
Other visitors come in and out of Eddie’s room that day too: Dustin stops by with a portable cassette player and some newer heavy metal albums that came out during the period Eddie no longer remembers, which brings more than one source of entertainment as it also incurs Nurse Margaret’s wrath again when they listen to it too loud. Wayne drops in with some actually edible fast food for lunch and a deck of cards, playing a few rounds of a few games. Nurse Katie checks in on him to redress his wounds and she laughs at his stories of annoying Margaret. Even Steve has to leave a couple times, says he has errands to run or needs to pick up Robin from work, but he promises to be back each time and each time he is. 
Night has fallen now, and it’s just Eddie and Steve again, Steve sitting, as always, beside Eddie’s bed as they watch whatever cheesy old movie is playing on TV while Eddie fights off sleep. He fears it still; each wave of drowsiness that washes over him is met with a shiver in his heart that breathes ice into his veins and freezes him awake. 
After about Eddie’s hundredth attempt to suppress a yawn, Steve turns off the TV and looks at him. “Are you tired?” 
“No,” Eddie says, only for his lie to be almost immediately undermined by another traitorous yawn. “Alright, yeah, I am, but- I don’t want to sleep,” he admits. “I don’t want to dream.”
“Oh.” Steve’s gaze softens, sympathetic. For the first time unprompted, not waiting for a nightmare or for Eddie to ask like he always had before, Steve moves closer and takes Eddie’s hand. “I’ve got you, you know,” he says, the statement fierce in its sincerity. “It’ll be alright. I’ll fight off your nightmares with my bare hands if I have to.” 
Steve’s hand is warm against the chill in Eddie’s blood, the heat of his skin seeping in to thaw his fear. “I don’t think a nightmare is something you can fight,” Eddie says, cracking a smile, but looking at Steve now, he can almost believe it. 
There’s a new sort of spark in Steve’s eyes, protective, devoted, and it burns the way a fire in the hearth of a home burns, like something dangerous made safe just for him. Eddie suddenly doesn’t doubt, somehow, that Steve could fight off anything, even something as intangible as a nightmare, if it was threatening Eddie. With Steve here holding his hand, he somehow doesn’t doubt that not a single thing can hurt him. Not a single thing would even dare try. 
And not a single thing does. 
No nightmares make their way into Eddie’s mind that night, no bad memories stir in his subconscious. That night, instead, he dreams of Steve.
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sports-on-sundays · 18 days
Text
ER / MV1
Summary: Max x girlfriend!reader - Max won't leave your side. 101% fluff.
Warnings: hospital room, mention of injury
Requested?: No.
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"Y/n, are you okay?"
Your eyes blink open dazedly, trying to make out the worried face looking down at you against the bright immaculate hospital ceiling. "Max?"
He strokes your cheek, repeating, "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
But you just smile. "Max. You came."
"Of course I did!" he says, sitting down next to your pristine white hospital bed, smoothing the sheets over you a bit.
You blink in surprise as you get a better look at him, still in his white fireproofs and race hat. His face glistens with sweat, and you murmur groggily, "Did you come straight from the race...?"
"Of course I did. And the f*cking team didn't even tell me about you until I got out of the car! I don't even know what happened to you, I rushed here so quick!"
You smile sleepily. "Messed up my leg pretty bad."
He nods. "It's propped up? Do you remember what happened?"
"Can you stop worrying so much?" you murmur, your eyebrows crinkling together.
"I just want to make sure you're okay," he says gentler.
"I'm in a hospital bed, Max. I'm as okay as I'm going to be. But you worrying so much is just stressing me out."
"Oh... I- Sorry. I'll be quiet about that for now. As long as you're not in pain?" he asks, giving your hand a squeeze.
You chuckle softly. "Feel kind of woozy, so I'm assuming they gave me medication for that. I don't even remember," you yawn.
A shadow of a small smile appears on Max's lips as he watches you. He gently sweeps some hair from your forehead as you continue, "And about your team not telling you about me until you finished the race, don't be mad at Christian about that. If anything, be mad at me."
Now Max looks completely and utterly confused. "Sorry?"
You smile softly. "I told them not to tell you. I knew you'd forfeit your race for me, and I didn't want that for you. I knew I'd be okay for a while. But now," you let out a little relieved sigh, "I'm so glad you're here with me."
Max stares in surprise, before saying, giving your hand a rub, "You didn't have do. I hope to-"
"-win the world championship again anyway. I know. But it's still important. You did win, right?"
He nods slowly. "Yeah... Yes, I did. Didn't even get on the podium, though."
"You didn't?" you ask, immediately feeling guilty. "Max, you-"
"-always get to stand on that top step. I'm not going to spray champagne while you're laying in a hospital bed, all by yourself, without me."
"Won't you get in trouble or something?"
He shrugs, "I don't care. You're more important, okay? You're just stressing yourself out. You don't have to feel guilty about having a freak accident- it happens sometimes, and you can't really help it."
You sniff a little, murmuring, "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Thanks for being the best girlfriend."
You relax your head back on the pillow, murmuring, "Well, tell me about the race."
As you listen to him talk, you begin to doze a bit, and soon are fast asleep. A bit later, though, you groggily blink your eyes up to see Max, leaning forward from the wooden hospital chair, resting his head next to you, his eyes shut and his face relaxed.
You're not sure if he's asleep or not, but he's certainly adorable. You smile and cuddle closer to him, shutting your eye again and wrapping your arm weakly around him. "I'm so lucky to have you," you murmur.
If he responds, you don't know, because you're fast asleep once again, just glad to have your boy there with you, next to you.
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