#i write so much shit at 1 am when i should be studying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emo-batboy · 6 months

Text

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

#cryptid Bruce Wayne #college au #does this count if op is the au #fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism #bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS #Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down #yes i am insane thank you for asking #originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #dc universe #gotham #autistic bruce wayne

3K notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

———————————————————————

Taglist: @justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid

Some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings if your name is highlighted!

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

189 notes · View notes

willow-lark · 11 months

Text

lark's underrated byler fic recs

i went through my bookmarks to find the gems in this fandom that need more appreciation! let's uplift our community--pls check out these fabulous fics & give the authors some love!! 💕

beneath these boughs, my devotion blooms by @perexcri (T, 1/1, 11k) - drop whatever ur doing and read this fic RIGHT NOW. i'm not joking when i say it's one of the most transformative works of the 21st century. gorgeous, heart-wrenching prose & characterization. god!will & devotee!mike--except this fic turns that entire concept on its head. this fic killed me dead. you won't regret it.

Last true mouthpiece by @miwism (G, 1/1, 2k) - in which will and hawkins are one and the same. this fic opened up my eyes to a take on will-has-powers that i had never before considered but i have not stopped thinking about since i read it. i need more of eldritch will byers in this fandom & everybody should read this fic

don't leave me here alone by @strangeswift (NR, 1/1, 3.4k) - ok this one is EVIL. this one is GOOD. essentially: mike tries to convince will to run away with him to keep will safe from vecna, but will might not be the one who needs protecting... i am a sucker for some s5-speculative angst and this fic DEFINITELY delivers!

all I know is pouring rain (and everything has changed) by @willelfanpage (T, 1/1, 3.2k) - a character study of will, particularly in relation to life moments he has in the rain. ugh, will byers my love will byers my light... this fic is so gorgeous and so beautifully done, i think everyone should check it out! i love the canon moments mixed in with non-canon ones.

take me to the lakes by @afterglowsssss (T, 1/1, 2.1k) - FANTASY BYLER EVERYONE CHEERED!!! prince will x knight mike is something that can legitimately be so personal, you guys. they have so much love and affection for one another that i'm literally throwing up (/pos). cleradin's been getting a lot of love lately and i am enjoying it but u guys need to hype this one UPPPP!!

come to me again (in the cold, cold night) by @perexcri (M, 3/3, 16k) - i've been on a vampire kick lately and this is the fic that started it for me. featuring: estranged byler, vampires, dystopia, angst, reunions, and CONSISTENTLY BANGER prose. would not expect any less from a perexcri fic. this one is a little creepy and dark and is absolutely gripping the entire way through.

there will come a poet (whose weapon is his word) by @fizzseed (T, 1/1, 3.2k) - fics that include mike as a writer are always some of my favs. and when he writes for WILL??? ahhhh my heart!! he's just so sweet and dedicated and this fic is just SUCH a gem. i think byler's relationship with each other when it comes to D&D (separate from cleradin AUs) is so interesting and i'm so glad this fic explored it!!

Every eye trained on a different star by @ohfallingdisco (G, 1/1, 2.9k) - ok so just thinking ab this fic as i'm typing this is literally making me tear up. in short: will comes out to bob. why don't we have more fics like this in this fandom??? will byers & bob newby my beloveds. r u kidding MEEEEEEE. like WHAT. all y'all take NOTES bc i want more of this shit

#byler #byler fic rec #byler fic recs #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #posts of lark #fic recs #go read these rn!! mwah

171 notes · View notes

bettyshoweduptotheparty · 8 months

Text

Welcome to my blog We're all 🌈🌈🌈 here!

I have so many new followers, it seems an introduction is in order:

Hello lovely people! So I rejoined tumblr in 2023 after 6 years of absence, mostly because it seemed a good place to silently lurk and read people's queer interpretations of Taylor Swift songs. Never thought I'd be back here in my 30s but here we are, and it's definitely gayer than I remember it 😉. Back in my 2010s tumblr days, you'd still get largely yelled at for suggesting Taylor writes gay lyrics, but now in the post folkmore and midnights era, there seems to be an ever growing number of us Gaylors and I love our little community on here! So much so that I started contributing and actually making content myself and it's wild to me that some of you awesome people have actually started following me so BIG HUG and a warm welcome to you all! I studied literature and (queer) history at university, so I'm a big geek when it comes to lyrical and historic analysis.

My original theories/ TS analysis

Anti Hero/Matilda (part 1 & part 2)

Burning the Lover House

Midnights to Daylight

Midnights Duality: The tale of two Taylors (Part 1 & Part 2)

You’re Losing Me Lyrical Analysis

1989 - The story of two muses

My tears ricochet/ hoax/happiness parallels

Warning: I'm a Kaylor

If the images haven't given you the hint already, let me say it loud and clear, I'm a massive simp for Taylor and Karlie as a couple. The love these two have for each other changed my outlook on life back in 2014 and I've been rooting for them ever since. So if you're going to be rude about the belief that Karlie and Taylor were, or are, in a romantic relationship, then this isn't for you and you should jog on. And yes, I do believe they are still together now in 2023 based on Taylor’s music and artistic choices that still make reference to Karlie to this day. ☺️☺️

(And I didn't think it needed saying, but apparently it does. I am not a 'shipper', I don't write fanfiction about any real people, I don't invade anyone's privacy by tracking planes or sharing real time information, and I don't call any of the men they are linked with any names. I'm just here to enjoy and be inspired by glimpses of a love that is really flipping rare these days, so no need to shit on that. Thanks)

Be kind and constructive when commenting folks, haters will be deleted/blocked.

And transphobes get lost!! 🖕🏼

#gaylor #kaylor #queer love #wlw #lgbtq #gay lesbian #lgbtq pride #taylor and karlie #welcome to my blog

114 notes · View notes

ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 2 years

Text

Summary: Sometimes, it's not Eddie with whom you want to have a heart to heart. It's Wayne. Reader is explicitly dating Eddie & is close with Wayne. GN!READER!

@jslittlebirdie - I hope you like this!💕 I love you so much and I'm very proud of you!!! Please please take good care of you! I'm sending you hugs & cuddles🫂💕I've been feeling like this too and I think a heart to heart with Wayne Munson would genuinely fix me, even if only for a little while. He seems like the kind of guy you can just chill out with and discuss everything and nothing. The space you make for yourselves is where it all stays; nothing follows either of you when the conversation is done. Where do I sign up? Taking a break from studying to write this and eat because I am feeling tight.

TW; swearing, anxiety, impending anxiety attack, reader cries, Eddie is a side character (Eddie x reader but reader is found by Wayne), reader is a Munson honourarily. READER'S DIALOGUE THE WHOLE WAY THROUGH THIS PIECE IS LITERALLY ME TALKING. So self-insert & self-indulgent to a degree! Comfort, fluff.

Word count: 1, 876.

eddie baby@eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @m00nlight101

eddie & wayne@hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod @authorlovers @jslittlebirdie @heydreamchild @comfortcharactercraze @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies @m00nlight101

Items on your to do list had piled up and up and up over the last few months and for everything you managed to get crossed off, another thing took its place until the tasks weighed on you heavy like bricks. Those bricks had been stacked precariously, balancing so many simultaneous responsibilities that the tower felt like it was taller, bigger, stronger than you. It was wobbling, and any minute now it would crash down around you.

Indeed, as you stood up from where you had been hunched over Eddie's desk, working furiously on all of the things all at the same time - everything had to be done now now now before it's too late and you can't get it done and there's gonna be serious consequences if you don't do everything right now and oh look it's already ten thirty in the morning and you haven't even crossed off one thing you're an absolute failure and Eddie's not going to be proud of you and Wayne won't be either and would you just shut up and focus on your work - everything did crash down.

But not the bricks.

No, the bricks loomed way over your head, intimidating you with the seemingly impossible depths of the tower's shadow. The tower never left you. Stress and anxiety and fear were your constant companions.

It was you who crashed down on you as you almost ran out of Eddie's room with the overwhelming urge to run away. But there was no out-running yourself, there was no way but through, but fuck, you were so scared. Tears poured down your cheeks, hot and heavy and fast, too many were they for you to even bother to attempt to brush away. Your chest was tight, your heart was squeezing in your chest, pounding in your head, your hands were shaking, you couldn't breathe or think, it was too much, too much, you had to get out, get away, you couldn't do this you couldn't -

Wayne's head whipped around from where he had been watching TV at the noise you made, a great heaving breath which ripped its way out of your throat. Tendrils of cigarette steam curled gently around his hand and the air above his head before they dissipated into nothingness. You wish your worries were as fragile as the burning ash dropping from the cigarette into the bright red ashtray.

Shit, you should have stayed in Eddie's bedroom. You didn't realise that you weren't alone. Oh shit, oh fuck, Wayne wouldn't be proud of you if he saw you like this, he wouldn't be -

To say that you had been on edge recently would be... an understatement... and a half. Eddie had noticed, how couldn't he? You were a walking bright flashing neon sign of tension and stress. He had confided in Wayne his concerns for you, about you, and Wayne had given him some advice on how to support you, but as he watched you stumble through the trailer on shaky legs, like a foal learning to walk - an apt description, really - and tears pouring down your face, your breathing sharp and shallow, Wayne realised that this was bigger than you. Bigger than Eddie.

Bigger than you and Eddie.

So Wayne Munson did what he always did for someone he cared about - he stepped in and he stepped up.

Literally, because in a flash, he was in front of you, cigarette stubbed out, and you started when you blinked and found him right in front of you, a look on his face which made you cry harder. Whether that was because it was so tender or because you had seen that exact expression on Eddie so many times and wondered where he had gotten it from. Finding out that it had come from Wayne was another piece of the ethereal tapestry which was Eddie and even in what was happening in that moment, discovering another part of the man you loved only made you love him more.

"Whoa, easy, kid," Wayne gave you a tight smile, the expression uncomfortable around the edges but the intense look in his blue eyes was kind. He was worried. "Look like you need to sit down a minute." He didn't touch you, but it was obvious that you were to follow him as he left the trailer and kept the front door wide open. He walked with you to the bench a ways from the trailer and sat up on the table, his elbows on his knees, his body language closed off. But welcome to the ones who truly counted. Namely, you, Eddie and Dustin.

"Now, you gonna tell me what's got you so upset? Look like a bat outta' hell, rushin' like that." Wayne's tone was quiet, kind. Patient.

You sighed, tears collecting in your eyes and your body language closed off just like Wayne's was. "It's all just... too much. Too much to do, no time to do it. I already tried cutting back on sleep to get more time to work. And there's still so much to do and it's like I can't keep up with everything I'm supposed to be doing. And then when I do get time off to relax, there's still something which needs doing and I haven't been able to have any time for me." You cut yourself off with a heavy sigh, saturated with world-weariness which you were too damn young for. "I'm out here fighting for my life and it's not making any fucking difference to anything."

You lapse into silence but Wayne wasn't satisfied. "That ain't it." Your confused look made him elaborate with a hand gesture. "What else is there?"

The way you shuffled on the bench, reluctant to say that one thing which echoed in your head late at night when you laid beside Eddie, piqued Wayne's curiosity but he waited. Gave no indication that he was eager to hear what was going on in that head of yours. It was a mystery to Eddie as well, the core of the issue, though Wayne would never betray your confidence like that. What was spoken on the bench stayed on the bench. The two of you had had many a conversation like this and Wayne had never relayed any information to Eddie. He had given hints when it was essential, like if it directly impacted either of you in a negative way, but he never ever spoke for you.

"I..." you hovered right there but Wayne gave you an encouraging smile and you tipped over the edge. Eager to just finally say it, if nothing else. You were safe with the Munsons. You were safe. "What if... what if I can't keep up with all this because I'm not enough and then you and Eddie won't be proud of me? I mean, not that you are proud of me, but, I just - " You sighed, "I wanna try as hard as I can to make you both proud because you mean the world to me but I can't do it, it's too much and I can't keep up and I hate it, I hate myself for not being able to - "

A large, warm hand closed down on one of yours and squeezed. It made you realise that your fists were clenched, cutting crescents into your sweaty palms. Tears dripped down your face and you blinked harshly so that you could better see Wayne's face. He had turned to face you over his shoulder, his brows knitted together. "You here with me, sweetpea?"

You nodded, eyes fixed on Wayne.

He nodded back, blue eyes firm. "You listen here, Y/N. I know the world will tell you things, believe you me," he scoffed angrily, looked away from you and towards the dog chained up a way across, near the Mayfield's trailer. He'd go feed it in a little while; he and some of the others kept it looked after. Wasn't much else they could do. "But it ain't right. It's hard 'cause it's hard, and it ain't a reflection on you. I seen you bust your ass for people who don't give two shits so long as what they want is done, but it's been a while since I saw you do somethin' for you. That's partly your problem, kid. You ain't a machine, no matter what the world says. Fuck 'em. S'your life, take it back from 'em. Or they'll eat you up 'til there's nothing left. I'd say they've taken some chunks outta you already, that it? No more, Y/N. Ain't right, you bein' so tired for someone so young."

You rested your other hand on top of Wayne's, so his hand was cradled between your own, and he looked at you square in the face as he shuffled closer to you. "C'mere, kid," the hand held in yours slips between them as he raised that arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, brought you into a hug. "You tell Eddie?"

"Some. Not much. Spent so long trying to tell him I ended up not being able to say anything." You swiped a hand over your face, your tears finally slowed enough for the action to count.

"Eddie don't care how y'say it," Wayne shrugged. The movement jostled where your head was nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. "Just that you do." A pause, then, "I ain't gonna tell 'im, that's up to you. But he'd say the same thing, Y/N. I know my boy."

That made you smile, the pure love and pride in Wayne's voice and he felt your cheek curve against his shoulder.

The moment was brought to a close by a van which came screeching around the corner, Motorhead blasting so loudly that you cringed into Wayne's side. He chuckled and patted your shoulder in a gesture which told you he was going to stand up, and you leaned away so he could do so. As soon as Eddie was out of the van, Wayne was around to the driver's side pulling his son into a big welcome home hug. Eddie met his uncle with enthusiasm and this only seemed to get brighter still as he caught sight of you. The smile on his face died as soon as he saw your tear-stained, blotchy face.

Eddie's hug with you was tighter and longer than the one he'd had with his dad. "Oh, sweetheart." Eddie cooed in your ear and you almost started crying again. You bit down on your tongue hard against the tell-tale stinging. "Again? C'mon, we gotta level it out, yeah?" He already knew what this would be about, your stress and anxiety levels, but he wanted to know the intricacies of what had been going on with you. "Let me in, baby."

You and Wayne looked at each other - a conversation within a conversation. You shrugged, Wayne nodded in a roundabout 'yeah, s'pose so' way. Eddie steeled himself with a deep breath, and you prepared to open up yet again. The first time was always the hardest, but there was always a Munson to help you to catch your own fall, so you would do it again and again and again.

The conversation had started with two Munsons, but it ended with three.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson comfort #wayne munson #wayne munson x reader #wayne and eddie munson #the munsons

521 notes · View notes

cindereleanor · 6 months

Text

Ace Podcast Week Day 1 - Realisation/Acceptance

When I was trying to come up with ideas for anything I could make for this fan event, I really wanted to delve into Arkady's (from The Strange Case of Starship Iris) grey-asexuality. I have So Much to say about this character, and honestly am not sure how to go about expressing it all. I'm afraid I haven't had the time to properly write anything, so for today, here are just some (messy) fragments of a character study (like literally, this is really the brainstorming stage😅) exploring Arkady’s relationship with her asexuality, and her sharing that part of herself with Violet:

Shit. Here she was, lying with this beautiful, smart, and oh so kind woman – in every way a better person than she could have ever dared hope of being with – falling asleep in her arms. A moment too good to be true. Of course she was going to have to go and mess this all up horribly. * * * Arkady let out a bitter laugh. She was good with computers, she should be able to think logically. And hell, the logical thing to think was surely not that Violet wouldn't understand. Violet, who saw the best in people to a fault (something Arkady couldn't help but love about her). But wouldn't it be so perfectly ironic for this to be the one thing Violet couldn't accept. How cruel would it be for the universe to have worked in her favour for once, to taunt her with the chance of love, with this person who could somehow – god knows how – see past the parts of her that even she couldn’t. And then for it all to be snatched away because of something so stupid. As if her sexuality was so much harder to stomach than, well, everything else. * * * You expect her to put up with so much. You shut everyone out. You don't know how to communicate your feelings. You're a wreck. Your 'baggage' isn't a suitcase; it's the whole luggage cart. Why couldn't you just make one part of this easy? * * * Violet squeezed her hand, 'We don't ever have to do anything you don't want to, you know that right?' 'I was a soldier, Liu, you don't need to treat me with kid gloves. I know take care of myself,' 'But will you, Arkady?' * * * Arkady and Violet sat enjoying a rare moment of silence. And even more rarely, Arkady was letting herself bask in that enjoyment. No worrying how long this would last, no beating herself up over things she couldn't control, no guilt. In that moment, things were okay. Arkady even let herself believe that one day, things would be good.

#ace podcast week #tscosi #arkady patel #vikady #cw internalised aphobia #also cw for canon-typical levels of self-hating thoughts from Arkady :(#my post #my writing #sorry feel like this one's a bit of a downer for the start of this event...#I promise if I ever actually write this fic it would have a much more upbeat tone by the end!

20 notes · View notes

cherryy-slushy · 9 months

Text

I AM DAMAGED

Im currently watching Brooklyn nine-nine while writing this :D

Part 2!

Part 1 -> I am damaged (Part 1)

(If anyone knows who the artist is for the art below please lmk xo)

*first person pov*

I became friends with Carrie and Jamie today, they were super nice and insisted I sat with them every day.

Even though I made new friends I can’t shake the feeling of betrayal, JD just pretty much replaced me? We’ve been friends for years and one girl comes along and ruins it.

Diary, why does high school suck?

I’ll give updates soon,

Y/N

I hear a knock on my bedroom door and shove my diary under my pillow. “Come in!”

My dad walks in with a cup of (Y/F/D) for me. “Thanks”, I smile as he hands it to me.

“I was really expecting JD to come over today”, My dad frowned.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I may have been replaced, he’d be devastated.

“Yeah, he had more homework than me for today so he had to get that done”, I said, it was clearly a lie. I was just hoping the school didn’t tell my dad we were in pretty much all the same classes.

“Ah, that makes sense. I’m heading out to get groceries, need anything?”, he asked.

I thought for a minute. “Y/F/F, please?”

“Sure kiddo, see you when I come back”, he smiled.

“Thanks, love you!”, I yelled as he walked down the hall.

“Love you too!”, he shouted back.

I laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling silently. This shit sucks.

*Next day*

I walked to school, I didn’t want to have to talk to JD today. He’s doing my head in and I know I’d say something I regret.

“Y/N!!! C’MERE!”, I saw Carrie down the hall yelling to me.

I ran down to her and smiled.

“Hey!! Wassup?”, I asked.

“WE HAVE THE FIRST CLASS TOGETHER!”, she said jumping around happily.

“Oh my god! YAY!”, I said excitedly, I joined in with her jumping around.

“C’mon!”, she grabbed my hand and yanked me down the hall.

“WAIT CARRIE MY LOCKER”, I whisper shouted at her, laughing.

“OH SHIT, YEAH”, she whisper shouted back.

We ran towards my locker, and guess who I fucking bumped into. Yep, you guessed it, JD.

“Hey, watch where your going”, he laughed. Then he looked down at me.

“Oh, Y/N, hey where were you this morning? I stopped by your house to bring you to school”, he asked.

“Mhm Yeah I’m gonna walk now”, I replied in a dead-pan tone.

“What?”, he asked, he looked really puzzled.

“Mhm”, I replied.

Carrie chirped in, “OO! You should come to school with me and Jamie! It’s so funny and it’ll be more fun with you!”, she jumped.

“Yeah thatd be amazing!” I smiled, turning back to JD with a cold look and walking off.

JD was clearly confused. Which made me even angrier.

I went to my locker and glanced over at him and saw him smiling and laughing with Veronica.

I tried ignore it and went back to talking to Carrie.

*lunch*

Carrie and I walked into the cafeteria and went on a hunt for Jamie. He didn’t come in until second class, he had a dentist appointment or some shit like that.

We found him and sat down. They entire lunch I couldn’t stop glancing at JD. The first few minutes of lunch I could see him looking at me. He seemed confused. And then he saw Jamie, and seemed mad.

He was about to get up, a assume to come over, but Veronica went over and they both sat back down.

God this is a pain in the ass.

“Yo, Y/N, you okay?”, Jamie asked. “You keep spacing out”

“Yeah I’m fine, just tired”, I replied, smiling lightly.

“Guys, I have French next class so I’m gonna go home and pretend I’m sick. I have a test I didn’t study for”, Carrie explained, standing up.

“Okay Carr, see ya”, Jamie said.

“Bye, Carr”, I smiled.

Carrie walked away and I turned to Jamie.

“Does she do that a lot?”

“Skip? Yeah, mainly if she has a test she didn’t study for”, he laughed.

“She’s such a mood”, I laughed back.

We laughed and joked for the rest of lunch. The entire time I felt eyes burning into the back of my head.

*Ring*

The school bell rang.

“What subject ya have next?”, Jamie asked.

“German, you?”

“Art”, he said.

He jokingly blew a raspberry as me and ran off to art class. I laughed at i watched him skipping down the halls like an idiot.

He’s kinda cute.

I went off to German and sat down in the back.

Oh fuck no.

J.D. walked into my class. We made direct eye contact and I broke it immediately.

He walked over and sat down next to me.

“Have you been ignoring me?”, he asked.

“No.”

“Then why did you randomly just say you want to start walking and then agree to getting a lift with someone else?”

“Because they’re my friends and I like them”, I said coldly.

“I’m your friend. Hell, I’m your best friend! I’m the only guy you spoke to in the past 17 years of your life!”, he snarled.

“Hm, I thought Veronica was your new best friend”, I mumbled.

“What? This is all about Veronica? Are you serious?”, his tone got angrier and angrier as he went on.

“Yes! Why the fuck would you ask me to hang out and then right after you ignored me and cancelled our plans for another girl?”, I started to feel more rage bubbling inside me.

“I only did that cause of your little moment with Jamie”, he whisper shouted.

“And then Veronica proceeded to glare at me any moment she possibly could”, I continued on, ignoring his last sentence.

“You like Jamie, don’t you”, he stopped and stared at me.

“Well he surely treats me better than you”, I muttered.

Why does he look so pissed? No, not pissed, maniac?

I slightly heard him mumble something under his breathe, I couldn’t hear the full sentence though, because he got up and walked out of the class.

*Third person pov*

“Oh, you’re gonna live the day to regret saying that darling”, JD mumbled. Y/N only heard yo to the word “live”. JDs eyes were glowing with a sense of anger and a psychotic look on his face.

Good luck, Y/N

#heathers #heathers 1989 #heathers the musical #jamie muscato #tumblr #veronica sawyer #heather mcnamara #jason dean x you #carrie hope fletcher #christian slater #winona ryder #heather mc x veronica #heather chandler #heather duke #martha dunnstock #SoundCloud

31 notes · View notes

helenstudies · 2 months

Text

93/100 Days of Productivity

got my J.Test certificate out and attached to it are THREE (3) pages that breaks down my marks section by section??? holy shit. I'm never taking any other japanese test again. this test rules!

Keep reading to see WHY the results are cool because I am in love with how detailed and helpful it is!!!

First one is simple. There are eight sections in the D-E (N3-N4) level test I took and this tells you how much I scored per section and what the level I got means in actual world terms.

Then this page tells you what level of Japanese ability I have per section. So here you can see where I had JLPT N3 equivalent ability (All Ds) and where I had N4 ability (That one E) and where I scored too low to get N4 (That writing section where there's just a dash instead of a word). So this way, I can actually SEE where my weak points are and rate them accordingly.

This should be over right? But WAIT.

A detailed breakdown of every single question they had in the test. This includes columns of numbers and a detailed explanation of what the each column means.

No. of questions in terms of appearance

The section they appeared in (1 to 8)

The answer I gave

The actual right answer

percentage of people that got the answer right (so 90% means this is an easy answer that almost everyone got right and 2% means it's so hard only 2 out of a 100 people got it right)

o x to indicate if I got the answer right

given points per question

points I got per question

Not only that, the paper notes that if your paper has * near an answer it means your marking was too light for the machine to process!

Look, I've taken so many language certificate tests and when the results come out, I'm left confused or annoyed or sad. "What did I get wrong?" "Was the question hard or am I just not studying enough?" etc etc. You get it. But like this test lays everything out for you to see. You can actually see the percentage of right answers and go "Oh, it was hard for everyone. Not just me."

I can't appreciate it enough. I love this test so much.

Also this test lets you take the question paper home and the right answers are released a week after the exam. I love that.

And the cost of this exam? In my country, it's $12 for any level. That's like maybe $2 more than JLPT.

#j.test #no I'm not sponsored #but honestly they should sponsor me because I'm a fan #j test #j-test #japanese langblr #studyblr #langblr #100 days of productivity #japanese language #japanese studyblr #jlpt #jlpt n3

10 notes · View notes

the-vibes-are-off · 1 year

Text

The Stormlight Archive Volume 1: The Way of Kings’ Review: Chapters 5-8

link to contents page - https://at.tumblr.com/the-vibes-are-off/hey-hey/96xd9ohihrzs

Right, well, you know how I said in my previous post that my COVID test was negative? Yeah so I was swiftly clowned and I am now SICK right on essay season. I have dug out crusty dusty old HP Pavilion to do work but I’m essentially only using it for Tumblr so. My partner is officially in another country now (I know you’re going to read this so pls come back I am dying) so I cant even be babied 24/7 due to the time difference. On season 4 of Criminal Minds already tho so ....

In terms of reading, I am officially back and LOVING it. I am limiting myself to 4 chapters in one setting because that’s how much I want my review sections to cover and writing this takes longer than I thought it would tbh. Lets get to it!

Spoiler Free Zone:

The split narrative is like definitely managing my problems with maintaining my attention. I will say that since Kaladin’s story line, although definitely interesting don’t get me wrong, would probably get boring if it was all I was reading. I’m more a magic and lore and pretty women fantasy enjoyer than a grr fight fantasy enjoyer since my like gritty lit enjoyment comes from different genres.

Loving the direction that Shallan’s plot line is going in, I’m glad Brandon doesn’t just give the characters what they want straight away and there is at least the illusion that they’re working for something even though its obvious they’ll achieve it eventually.

Mostly, I’m just loving the characters they’re introducing in Shallan’s story, maybe not so much SOME people (a certain person specifically I dislike is beginning, BEGINNING to grow on me) as they’re just so lovely and cute and nice and ugh we love to see it.

*** SPOILERS INCOMING ***

Spoiler Zone:

I’m saying it now, I did initially think Jasnah was just a bitch tbh like I get she’s all important and up her own ass or whatever but she doesn’t appreciate art??? I get Shallan like couldnt just get what she wanted but like .... come on. I was so mad when she just started shouting n shit when Shallan was waiting in the alcove like get a grip pls. However.... turning a boulder to smoke? I had to tab that as cool, like that was just a smart idea to clear it and a cool fckn power to have

Shallan wanting to steal tho? I love her, a true icon as she should steal from the bitch. I literally just tabbed it love this bc ? Slay like what else could I do. I’d steal it too

aaaaaaaaand then were back to Kaladin actually just getting fucking shit on at every turn yet again. mf has to carry a bridge?? and then get shot at with arrows?? my goodness give this man a break

The spren getting a name tho like Syl is acc like carrying Kaladin’s arc for me I want to know what is going on there I am trying so hard not to spoil it for myself

From an arts and humanities student standpoint, I did tab Shallan describing how she views her art and the process of creation as like fleshy and human. Like in both studying and writing poetry I relate to capturing a person or a place or a moment on paper

And then 2 cuties that I simply had to draw attention to in Brother Kabsal and Yalb. They are iconic and I adore them the end :*

Tab Count:

Cute: 2

Fights: 1

Sad: 1

Death: 0

Cool: 0

Wtf wow: 1

Wtf why: 0

Slay Quotes: 0

Love this: 2

Hate this: 0

Tab Total:

Cute: 3

Fights: 4

Sad: 1

Death: 2

Cool: 4

Wtf wow: 2

Wtf why: 1

Slay Quotes: 3

Love this: 5

Hate this: 1

PS: If anyone actually reads this far down comment (or post me if you’re feeling generous) your fave tea to drink when you’re sick because I’m going through maybe 10 cups a day and I am swiftly running out....

#brandon sanderson #the way of kings #stormlight archive #kaladin stormblessed #kaladin #shallan #shallan davar #jasnah kholin #book #books #books and reading #book review #fantasy #high fantasy #book tabbing #book annotations #english literature #literature #literature review

62 notes · View notes

jitterbugjive · 4 months

Text

Pasting a person;s asks since they asked to censor their username:

Holy shit, it’s been insane seeing how Zerum Whooves actually ends. I’ve been following the blog since 2013 or so (forgive me, I’m bad with time), when I was in my own horribly abusive situation (and probably not the target age range for the blog, honestly), and I remember relating so much to what Zerum went through because it reminded me of my own experiences. I’d spend time imagining an ending where Perry saved him and he was taken somewhere safe (1/3) and I am SO happy to see that’s how the blog was planned to actually play out! So much of Zerum’s blog and story inspired me throughout my experience studying psychology and writing my own characters as part of my own experience coping, so reading the summary today and seeing you’d had the same idea all along brought me to tears, especially looking back on how far I’ve made it in my own recovery process and how your blog‘s been there throughout all of it. What a fucking amazing ride, (2/3) Jitters, I’ll remember your work for as long as I’m creating my own art. Someday, I hope to get as far as you have in your many projects, and inspire someone to feel the same sense of kinship with a piece of art you gave me when I needed it the most. Thank you for everything you’ve done, I’m sticking around until the very end! (And I can’t wait to see the end of Spinel and Slate’s stories!) (3/3)

While of course it's a bit concerning you might have been looking at the blog as a youngin', I'm at least glad it helped you. I really wanted to show on both blogs that recovery is possible and should be strived for.

I wish you luck in your own art journey, and am thankful you'll be sticking around for my other stuff because I still plan to give powerful stories.

#zerum #spoilers

13 notes · View notes

prolix-yuy · 2 years

Note

CONGRATS ON 500 💗💗💗 so excited for you and this request list is GOLDEN. my request shouldn’t come as a shock BUT also dealer’s choice cuz I really couldn’t pick one

sex worker!frankie / hurt&comfort / fear of failure

ORRRR

din djarin / whatever tickles your fancy / companionship as salvation

Kay I am giving you BOTH in my own special way. Laura got me convinced to write Flight Plan, and you convinced me to get into my Din Djarin feels. It's been much too long since I wrote another installment for I Think of You, and you got me pondering on something a little unique than what I've been doing lately. Let's see where this goes...

Interlude: The First Ever Touch

Summary: Din's first meeting with the child sparks a memory.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: T, canon-typical violence, lots of angst and introspection, Paz Vizla being a little shit, taking liberties with how the Creed works (I googled for a bit, inaccuracies are mine), making up events in Din's backstory. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I missed my little space family, but especially the clan of two who started it all. Companionship as salvation is an excellent theme for Din, but I think if we're going to delve into that, we have to talk about the first companion who truly did save him. I am taking some liberties with Din's backstory here, but still aiming to keep it canon compliant. Come roll around in Din feels with me today, friends.

Takes place around Season 1, Episodes 1-3.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

It’s little.

And green.

Big black eyes that reflect almost as much as his beskar.

Ears that should absolutely not be possible on such a small head but then again, Din’s seen some strange things during his lifetime.

But most of all, it’s a tiny hand reaching up to a bounty hunter. It’s trust when Din absolutely should not be trusted. It’s need and fear and hope and a tiny coo that pulls his blaster down and lifts his hand to meet its reach.

The moment the bounty wraps a three-fingered grip around Din’s sizeable one, claws digging into the thick leather of his gloves, is when his armor chips. Not the beskar and durasteel, of course, but the fortress he’s built around himself. It’s flesh and gruff monosyllables and a voice devoid of emotion, but it’s protected him well in his advancing years. And all it takes is a squeeze, one Din can barely feel, to crumble its foundations.

He denies it as he traverses Arvala-7, the hovering pod following him dutifully. Handles the child like a sack of potatoes, ignores him when he looks up at Din with concerned eyes, reaching towards the cauterizer.

It’s a bounty. Not his concern. His focus has to be on the beskar, the covert, his Creed. The child needs to be kept alive long enough to finish the deal, then he’ll be rid of the strange ache in his chest that the burbles and trills bring.

It isn’t the first time Din’s felt this way.

The first days in the covert are a blur to Din. He keeps expecting his mother to turn the corner, warm smiles and a hand smoothing through his unruly locks. Or his father to come up behind him and rest his expansive palm on his shoulder, learning over to show him something.

Instead, he’s met with noise and silence in frightening magnitudes.

The adults are always helmeted, armored, impassive. His saviors, but also terrifying. He can’t read them, their movements a mystery until he learns how to understand how bodies twist, lean, express. He’s a quick study, has to be to stop feeling like he’s constantly on edge.

The children are the opposite. Those who are too young to take the Creed are noisy, energetic as they bounce off the tunnel walls, quieting when the elders split the group with their long strides. The older children who sport their own buy’ces hold an air of superiority over the younger ones. They brag about their swearing to the Creed, and how they’re training to be warriors. A stocky boy with a booming voice even at his young age introduces himself as Paz to Din.

“My family is made up of generations of Mandalorians,” he brags, swathed in an air of superiority. The thought of his own family line, only him now, lays heavy in Din’s stomach.

The only place he finds peace is in the younger children’s bunk room. The older ones are kept apart once the helmet makes them faceless. The silence in the bunk is not the same as the one amongst the adults. It’s filled with quiet breathing during naptimes, chatter that sometimes rises to a feverish pitch but in short bursts. They toddle and climb over each other, massiff pups tumbling around as their protectors prepare for a war that is always just another day off.

Din can finally breathe when he’s surrounded by the younglings. He’s not much older than them, but small for his age and fits easily into their compact group. They look up to him, a buffer between the rowdier, older children. It’s a burden he didn’t anticipate, not a true Mandalorian in the eyes of those concerned with blood, but if he can bring them some comfort he will. A guide through the tunnels, someone who’s learning about the Creed and can explain it to them, a voice in the night when terrors feel the most daunting.

Din can be that for them.

Din still denies the child’s pull on him as they travel, fighting the Jawas and taking up their pilgrimage in return for his ship parts. The green baby is small, easy to overlook with the pram closed, and even easier to brush over if he fusses or cries out. The Jawas study the child endlessly, Din shooing them off when their hands get too brave and eyes too greedy.

It’s his bounty to collect.

Nothing to do with a surge of protectiveness in his chest.

He almost believes it too, until the mudhorn. A foolish act, to go in alone and without the artillery needed to take down the powerful beast. Bracing before the charging creature, vibroblade in hand and his life distilled down into the point of a horn ready to rip him apart, he witnesses a miracle. One he doesn’t feel he deserves, but is gifted by the tiny creature with no name, no voice, but more compassion than Din has experienced in years.

He makes the death blow quick, sparing the mudhorn pain as Din had been spared from its wrath. By the time he returns to the child, egg in hand, it’s asleep in its silver pod. Din thinks it a blessing not to have to worry if the child will wander off, that he can close the lid and keep the pod hovering by his side for the remainder of his mission.

The worry that gnaws at his chest betrays his true concern.

A few months after Din entered the covert, a baby is brought into the youngling’s room. Born of two strong heirs of Mandalore, her wails echo off the stone walls.

Din is captivated by the baby. Her name is Allondria, “a warrior’s name” as her proud parents declare to the covert. The merriment of celebration warms the covert for a time, and Din takes to trailing behind as she passes from person to person.

“I can help,” he says one day, more words spoken to an adult than he’s managed in the past few weeks. Taissa, one of the caregivers in charge of Allondria, cocks her helmet at this.

“Wouldn’t you rather be off training?” she asks, not unkindly.

“Paz says I’m too small to be a proper Mandalorian. Always calls me Din’ika. And I don't even have a buc'ye.” Din’s face crumples into a scowl, fighting to pronounce the foreign Mando'a as red hazes his memories.

“There are roles for those who don’t wish to fight. Respected roles, needed by the covert. Raising warriors is one of them,” Taissa muses, laying Allondria down in her crib. Din peers through the slats, a protective instinct stirring at her babbles and waving fingers.

“I can teach you, if your pride will allow it,” Taissa adds, straightening to look down at Din. He nods, a small smile on his face and his fingers wrapped around the crib bars.

Taissa shows Din how to hold Allondria, what food she can eat and how she will change as she grows. Din struggled with sleep before, but now that he has an excuse to be up at all hours of the night he settles faster, deeper. He whispers the stories the Mandalorians have taught him, and a few he remembers, the threads of his mother’s voice murmuring in his mind. She watches Din with wide eyes, a wispy tuft of blonde hair haloing her face and a toothless smile when he manages to calm her. He gladly takes the worst shifts, the worst jobs, to feel the warmth of her gaze on his face.

There’s no harm, Taissa tells the alor. The boys always end up training eventually. Din’s been through more than most of them. Let him be this for a time. It will make him a finer warrior in the end.

The emptiness is unexpected.

Din sits in the Razor Crest and waits for the gaping maw in his chest to close. It’s never felt this way before. He brings them in hot or he brings them in cold, but once they’re out of his sight he rarely feels their presence, or lack thereof.

He should have put the child in carbonite, but when it didn’t wake quickly after the mudhorn incident Din was reluctant to take the chance. Instead he fed it, breaking a ration bar into smaller bits that the child could handle. He clipped it into the jump seat, let it play with the silver ball it unscrewed from one of the Crest’s levers. Tucked it into the hovering pram as he brought it to the Imp’s hideout.

And then Din let them take the child, and left with a camtono full of beskar. He should have been thrilled, the payment larger than any he’d brought in before, and more precious. He should punch in the coordinates for Nevarro, return the sacred beskar to its rightful home, and accept his alor’s gratitude.

Instead he waits for the guilt to subside, for the feeling of failure and shame to recede. His throat is tight, hands gripping the console harder than necessary. He doesn’t know why they need the child, it wasn’t supposed to matter why. He’s a bounty hunter, it’s his job.

But in the midst of chaos, a child held his hand up to him and asked him to care.

And Din is compelled to leave the cockpit and right a wrong.

“Din’ika!” booms through the covert hallways, making Din’s shoulders hike up to his ears. Paz saunters into the youngling’s bunk room, catching sight of Din next to Allondria’s crib. He’d just gotten her fed and settled, her eyes heavy as he lays her down for a nap.

“Still playing with the babies?” Paz sneers, one hand on his hip as he twirls a practice blaster around one finger. Din bristles at his volume, and his tone. Once the older boys heard Din was helping care for Allondria the snide remarks and crude jokes began flying in loud whispers. Or not whispers at all, in Paz’s case.

“You know, the whole ‘raise warriors’ part is normally an afterthought. Better to be one.” Din tries to regulate his breathing, not give in to the anger bubbling under the surface. Paz is easily twice his size, and always looking for a fight. The proud Vizla house hangs over his head like a halo, making him a loudmouth on good days, an instigator on bad ones.

“You’re old enough to be training, the alor offered you a helmet, and you’re in here…bottle-feeding?” he pushes, flanked by a few other boys who look up to the name. Din knows better than to retort. Paz is always ready for a confrontation, hormones brimming with only fists against flesh as a way to release the tension. If he plays it cool, ignores Paz, he’ll get tired and wander off. It normally works, the boys growing bored with the lack of a rise out of the smaller foundling.

Today, however, Paz is in a special sort of mood, one that could only be stoked, not sated.

“Seems like a waste for the elders to have saved you if you weren’t even going to act like a Mandalorian,” he spits out, venom in every word. Din can feel his blood boiling, Paz searching for the soft spot to stab and get a reaction. “Then again, maybe it’s better you don’t train with us. You’re too soft to do much of anything, aren’t you Din’ika?” Din tries to back away from them, mapping his exit route when Paz finally hits the bloodiest spot.

“Maybe if you were stronger you wouldn’t be a foundling.”

The blood rushing in Din’s ears sharpens to a high pitch, the edges of his vision darkening. Paz’s chuckle is the last thing he hears before his world dissolves into blood and pain and rage.

The elders discipline Paz harshly, keeping the boys apart as Din recovers. Bruises bloom on his flesh for weeks, luck the only reason why he didn’t break anything. Paz loses his standing among his peers, removed from the training ring and relegated to chores and work meant for those lower than his station. He’ll climb back up quickly, but it’s a slight that will follow Paz for years.

The weeks he spends isolated change Din. He heals, but something inside breaks beyond what Paz did with his fists. If you were stronger echoes in his ears. He wasn’t strong enough to protect himself. How could he be expected to protect those around him? He lives among some of the greatest warriors in the galaxy. He has to learn, has to make himself strong and worthy and capable enough to protect his allies, his friends, his clan one day.

When he’s well enough to not be under the careful eye of the medic, Din goes straight to the elders and requests to be put in training. No complaints are raised, though Taissa’s concerned expression dances in the corner of Din’s eye. The buc'ye, the first of several Din would doff until he was fully grown, settles heavy on his crown. He promises to bring honor to it.

As time marches on, the Creed fills up every aspect of Din’s life. He still seeks to protect, but he learns the Mandalorian Way and his place in the covert. Duty bolstered by strategy, efficiency, brute strength. The covert needs him to provide, to protect, and his greatest asset is the body he hones and trains to do so. After a teen growth spurt his shoulders broaden, chest barrels and limbs thicken. Paz still towers over him, but he begins to respect Din more, especially as his dedication sharpens him into the deadliest blade.

Over a year later, Taissa stops him in a hallway, Allondria now close to a toddler.

“Is this what you want?” she asks, the child at her ankle staring up at Din with recognition. She smiles shyly, hands gripping Taissa’s pant leg as she waves up at him. Din’s heart clutches for a moment, seeing the child he cared for when he still showed his face. Her face falls ever so slightly when he replies, “Yes. This is how I can protect everyone.”

You said it yourself, the alor says to Taissa, no harm done, he’s taken on the Creed and will make a fine Mandalorian.

We do not always need warriors, she retorts, balancing Allondria on her hip.

That is not The Way, the alor says, a cold admonishment that silences Taissa for long after.

With the helmet firmly in place, Din begins the construction of the wall he puts between himself and those he cares for. Allondria no longer recognizes him, his body growing and strengthening behind the anonymous helmet. Taissa keeps her distance.

It’s for the best, Din ruminates when he still takes the time to consider his actions, before all that came before is molded into the Mandalorian he is today. Better to be strong, be useful, be the protector he feels deep in his bones. Better to stand alone from those he’s willing to protect. Better to become the Mandalorian, instead of Din Djarin. He can do the most this way.

The child settles into his new life quicker than Din expects. Traversing space to a backwater planet like Sorgan lets Din learn more about the strange little creature he’s spirited away from the Imps.

It’s male, as far as Din can tell. Eats and sleeps and voids much like any other creature. He tries not to ponder the wizard powers too much.

He’s endlessly curious, to the point of mischief. Din has to snatch him away from dangerous electrical panels, gaps in the floor, the bright blinking lights on the console.

His appetite is voracious, preferring live meals to ration bars and soup, but he’ll take what he can get.

Sometimes he just sits and watches the stars fly by, glittering in the rounded reflection of his marble eyes. Din wonders what he’s thinking, and if there is any way to communicate with him beyond the directions and admonishments that seem to go unheard. Does he miss a home of his own, a family? Will the Jedi be that for him, or will Din be handing him to a group much like his covert, somber and regulated. With a heart that lends itself to kindness, would he face the same trials as Din, and come out nothing like he went in?

Then the child turns to Din and holds out a claw with a little trill. Din lifts him onto his knee and takes the child’s hand between his thumb and index finger. It’s so much smaller, fragile in his hand, but the gentle squeeze on the pad of his thumb is a comfort Din has denied himself for years. The comfort of a child trusting him, and of knowing that someone might harbor a desire to protect him too.

Din will never forget it again, because it saved him.

END

"you were

and always will be

that first ever touch

to have fertilized

the ground

beneath my life’s trees

that first ever rose

to have fragranced

the rest of my memories."

-Sanober Khan

Interlude 1 of the I Think of You series

#mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #din x reader #I think of you series #prolix fics

129 notes · View notes

ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 1 year

Text

A look to open up the skies part two: Eddie and Y/N finally have their conversation.💗

GN!reader. Fluff, insecurity (Eddie), crying (Eddie and reader), swearing, intense positive emotions (love, appreciation, holy shit if I don’t tell you I love you right fucking now I’m gonna die vibes), cuddling, kisses, pet names (sweetheart, angel, babe, baby, honey), reader quotes LOTR while confessing their feelings to Eddie in a bid to make him believe.

A/N: I am so grateful and appreciative to every person who supports my writing. It’s my break from a busy and stressful life, ten minutes here and there every day to help me get through the roaring anxiety. I appreciate you all deeply and I do my best to give it back to you with my content.

Summary: Several people asked to see Eddie and reader have the conversation from THIS PIECE - basically, you love Eddie so much it made you cry, Uncle Wayne encouraged you to tell Eddie, and here you both are :)

Special thank you to @magnoliabutters for reading over the first incomplete draft of this fic and literally going paragraph by paragraph to help me with characterisation, dialogue and descriptions. I'm a little scared to post this because I haven't written for Eddie for about three weeks and tbh I probably should be using this time to study, but if I don't do something for myself, I'm gonna go insane in a very very unsexy way.

I hope you enjoy!😭💗🙏

E.M tags: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies

E & W.M tags: @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod @authorlovers @jslittlebirdie @heydreamchild @comfortcharactercraze @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies

Fic specific tags: @jslittlebirdie @hoeshii @nyrovekyochi @potatos-library @viviminori

People from part 1: @disturbedbeautywrites @comfortcharactercraze @decadentpaperduck @munsonsuccubus @eponaartemisa @epicfallenismine @silky-luxe @jslittlebirdie @lancey-mcclain

Word count: 3, 318.

Previously

"Eddie's got enough'a them walls up, Y/N. Don't you go giving him another." Wayne encourages you, gives you guidance and a light warning, all in two sentences. Only a Munson can pull that off.

Silence lapses again and Wayne finishes his cigarette, stands with a final gentle pat to your shoulder, and goes back inside the trailer. Leaving you with your thoughts and a quiet sense of determination.

You stand on somewhat shaky legs as you follow Wayne; the man sees you coming in the reflection of the glass window and spins at the last second to hold the door open for you. You smile at him in thanks and he nods at you, before raising his eyebrows in a, "now?" gesture. You find Eddie in that look and without thought do you nod. It makes him beam and you feel a deep sense of okay, this is it, settle deep inside your heart.

The final final nail is hammered in when Wayne grabs his keys and leaves for work, giving you a very meaningful, firm nod as he shuts the door behind him, his boots thudding down the steps.

It feels less like the encouragement he gave you a moment ago and more like being told 'enough thinking about it, hon - you're doing this now'; it is no secret to the Munsons that when you get all up in your head, you appreciate being told what you should do, just because you can't make out the trees through the thickness of the forest. The Munsons have taught you so much about yourself without consciously doing so. In many a conversation have you asked one of them - usually Uncle Wayne - why you had reacted to something a specific way or you have shared an 'ugly' thought with them, only for them to tell you that it is normal to feel this way. A boundary has been crossed which you hadn't known you had at the time, or something like that. The specifics barely matter when it comes to matters of the soul and heart; fragile things which must be handled with care.

In short, the Munsons bring you to your own attention and it excites you to spend time with them, wondering what other pieces of the tapestries of themselves and you which you will get to uncover with the hours in their company. Every day brings you something new, it seems, but today it is your turn to bring Eddie something new.

In allowing you to express yourself and your thoughts uncensored, the Munsons have watched you grow and blossom into the person you are, and they are so proud of you for it. Sometimes, you are in the right, and sometimes you are in the wrong. But you aren't ever shamed for it or made to feel less than; Wayne's stern manner and quiet tone of disappointment scares you more than anything else. You hate it when he gets like that with you (it's so very rare; you have to earn Wayne's disapproval. His love comes freely and without conditions) and so you always do your best to avoid disappointing him. Not in an unhealthy way, but he has done a great deal for you and you love him just as strongly as you love Eddie (though the nature of that love did differ between the Munsons), and so you only ever want to give him your best.

This situation is unfair only if you continue to conceal the truth from Eddie. If you don't tell him how you were feeling after this conversation, Wayne will know about it, and he will be disappointed that you had let this moment, this raw vulnerability, slip through your fingers. You want Eddie to feel loved, you want Eddie to be loved, and you want Wayne to be proud of you. Wayne knows this, he knows it, and he has used in the best of ways everything he knew about you to help you to help yourself and therefore, to give his boy everything he deserves and wants but had yet to truly be his. That part of it is in your hands but you have hesitated and so, just like always, Wayne steps up for someone he loves.

Someone really needs to give that man a raise.

Your tears have slowed but they are still there, dripping silently and steadily as you make your way down the trailer and around the corner into Eddie's bedroom. Your hands are visibly shaking and you hold them in front of you, your thumbs rubbing along the inside of your palms as you rejoin Eddie.

He looks up from where he's been lounging on the bed ever since you got here as you enter his room, but the welcoming smile on his face dies as quickly as it's born as he takes in what he assumes immediately to be pain. You have very obviously been crying and Eddie feels a slight pang of hurt that you had left his side when you were hurting. Do you not trust him to comfort you when you aren't okay? Maybe you don't want to see him like that, or you don't want him to see you? What about if -

But before his insecurities really begin to race through his tried and tired mind, an absolute galaxy threatens to split your face in half as you smile at Eddie. It's at total odds to the way tears occasionally slip down your cheeks, dripping sore but in a good way - you never want to stop loving Eddie just like this. The thought of loving Eddie any less than you already do absolutely terrifies you - and the emotional rollercoaster you must be on has Eddie concerned. It warms him, too, for so open are you that you're able to feel and express multiple emotions at once. Not like most others in Hawkins, who are so out of touch with themselves that they drift through their days apathetic to all those small moments, which lead into bigger moments and larger emotions.

Not like most others, who hide themselves away and therefore deny themselves the chance of a real and beautiful connection between themselves and the town they inhabit, the people they live with and around. One cannot silence one part of themselves without silencing all the others. Life must be lived fully and whole-heartedly embraced, Eddie has always believed, and despite all that you have been through, the ugly, the beautiful and everything in between, you do your best to adopt a similar attitude towards life and love.

Of all his little sheep, Eddie loves you the hardest.

He sits up, hands easily reaching out for you. It's so instinctive, so immediate, that it's almost as if his body knows what he wants before his mind does. You're not just smiling, he registers at the same time as he clocks your tears, you're smiling.

Eddie knows what a fake smile looks like. He knows what it looks like when someone is smiling to hide pain, when they're smiling to be polite or when they're smiling because they don't know how else to react. He knows what 'laugh or cry' looks like as an expression because he's seen it looking back at him across his reflection too many times for it to not break his own heart when the gift of hindsight inevitably smacks him in the face. Eddie knows pain and he knows joy and he knows love, limited though its expression has been due to how little of it he's received in his lifetime. Wayne managed to squeeze a lifetime of love into every day; his boy would never go without love again if the elder Munson had anything to say about it.

And he did.

Your smile, the one on your face right now, is nothing like Eddie has seen before. He can see love and sadness co-existing on your face, and it throws him for a loop. You're exuberant, practically glowing as you smile at him, but those tears, oh... Those are sad tears, tender tears, and Eddie can't quite figure you out. Usually, he can clock you with just a sweep of his eyes up and down your body, but this?

You're not masking, you're not hiding anything. Eddie knows when people are being genuine and he knows when you are being truthful, so right now, your face is making it look like you're feeling two opposing emotions at the same time, like a... "What's with the living mask, babe?" His voice is soft, an upward lilt at odds with the way his lips tug downwards at the corners. You practically trip over yourself to get to him, interlocking his fingers with your own as you climb on top of him, getting comfortable in his lap. It's always been your favourite seat, your denim throne, and you know it always will be.

"I need to tell you something, Eddie, and I - it's nothing bad," you rush to reassure Eddie when his dark eyes harden and his body stiffens under yours, you squeeze your grip in his and smile encouragingly when Eddie relaxes under you again, "I just... I'm nervous about telling you because I don't know how you'll take it, and Uncle Wayne said I should - "

Eddie cuts you off instantly, indignant that his dad knew about this before he did. "Wait, what's Uncle Wayne got to d - "

You shake your head, squeezing your grip around Eddie's hands again, "No, Eddie, please, I have something to tell you and Wayne was the only one I could talk to about wanting to tell you, and he says I should, so can you - will you - " you sigh, frustrated, looking everywhere but at Eddie. How are you supposed to talk to him about this when you barely have the words to explain it yourself?

Wayne's words come back to you,"You gotta be brave now. For him. Tell him, Y/N. If not for you, then for Eddie" and you find yourself taking a deep, deep breath, clambering up off Eddie and instead lying down beside him. He's quiet, contemplative, his dark eyes fixed on you. Still trying to figure you out even as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, hands splayed across your back, fingers spidered to touch as much of you as he can all at once. The change in position seems to jostle something in your brain and words begin to come to you, drifting gently across the hurricane of your mind.

You're a contradiction in some ways and blessedly predictable in others. But no matter what, you're a person with whom Eddie is well versed, and he will always grace you with the time and space you need to express yourself. You do the same for him, each and every day, and for every gesture of understanding you show him, Eddie does his best to return it tenfold. Even if he's indignant and slightly offended that his Uncle got to hear you out first, got to see your emotional state at its newest and therefore rawest, he's also very happy and relieved that the two of you, two of his three most special people (Dustin being the third, the little shrimp that he is), get on well enough to be able to swap confidences. All he's ever wanted is a family, just like this. Mismatched puzzle pieces which work gloriously together.

"I'm listening, Y/N."

You know that Eddie means it. His voice has a serious edge to it, his arms are tight around you, and though he's nervous, mind racing to try to suss you out, you know that the floor is yours and it will be until you're finished. Eddie is patient, painfully so, and he'll wait for you with the same grace he gives Dustin, who always takes a paragraph to say one sentence which Eddie will have figured out long before Dustin finishes. That's who Eddie is, and he's beautiful.

You shift so that you're lying facing Eddie. He moves so that one of his arms is under your head and the other is around your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. You move so that your forehead is pressed against his. Eddie makes a soft, sweet noise, it's almost an "awh" but it's closer to an "oh", and nuzzles his face against yours, making you smile so tenderly it makes you want to cry again.

"Call me Curiosity because you're killin' me here, sweetheart."

"Then call me Satisfaction so I can bring you back."

Eddie groans at the joke and you giggle, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and just breathing him in as you steel your nerves. Be brave for five minutes, Y/N, for Eddie, just like always. There was a time for joking around and there was a time for knuckling down and being serious. It is something you and Eddie know all too well. So as the laughter fades and you're both high on the sight of the other's smile, you tell Eddie what you told Uncle Wayne.

"I'm... I'm upset at this thing but not... Not necessarily in a bad way, you know?"

Eddie freezes, his body tensing up as he looks at you with a look of concentration. He looks like he's getting ready to be offended but he's still giving you the benefit of the doubt. Uncle Wayne had heard you out and Eddie will do the same. He feels like something important is coming. Something which will both lead you onto a new path. He is cautious and cynical, but he wants so badly to believe.

You're about to take the plunge, and so is Eddie. Different routes to the same place. Together.

"Okay, so," you rush to get everything out as best and as fast as you can, the way Eddie's hackles came up preemptively making you feel like you need to say it now because it's already gone on for long enough. And, really, you want to tell him, you want to explain yourself, you want Eddie to know how loved he is, so you use that panic as well as what you're feeling for the man who has your five senses captivated, surrounded, to catapult the two of you forward into that place you long to take him, for nowhere can you go where he won't follow: the truth. "I..." You draw out the monosyllable as you search for words to explain something you can barely explain to yourself. "I'm not really upset in a bad way, as I said. Like, nothing is wrong. I just... I just..." You shake your head, frustrated as all hell by the fact that you had been able to discuss this with Uncle Wayne, but with Eddie's chocolate button eyes staring at you with his strong dark brows pinched together in concentration, his hands flexing around the duvet underneath him - the urge to run away is so very strong but for you, for you, he will stay and see it through - words are failing you.

The tension is killing both of you, but neither more so than Eddie, who is not a mind reader.

If you don't tell him, he's not going to know.

That thought, of Eddie never truly knowing how much you love him, combined with the cosmic ache Uncle Wayne's words have left in your chest, sends a cold shiver of something down your spine and all of a sudden, everything spills out of you. And you let it, feeling the burden of your heart lifting as you share it with the person you want to grow old with.

"You're just really kind and sweet and good even with all the shit you've gone through and I admire you so much for how strong you are. You know when to pick your battles, you know when to run, you know when to stand your ground, you still try so hard with what you have, you do your best, you give everything you have, but through it all, you're so you and it's amazing, Eddie. You're amazing and I'm not upset, I'm just... I just love you so much and it hurts and I told Wayne before I told you because I didn't know if you would be upset in a bad way when I cried over you and he told me you wouldn't be and - "

Large hot hands seize your face, thumbs spreading to touch the space behind your ears, and two chocolate button eyes look square into yours, the galaxies within roaming until they find what they're looking for; softening into molten pools when they do. You are slightly uncomfortable with eye contact, Eddie knows, and so as soon as he sees you looking back at him, he looks at the bridge of your nose instead. But something compells you to chase his eyes and you're gifted with seeing a smile start small at a corner of his mouth and then spreading like wildfire, until the apples of his cheeks crease and his eyes almost disappear into them as Eddie smiles just as widely, just as genuinely, as you have been this entire time.

"I love you, Eddie Munson. So much and for so many things, but mostly because you're you. That's why I'm so upset - because I love you but it's too much for my body to take and I want you to see how loved and wanted and cherished you are.

Eddie practically chokes on his words, whatever they are, and the next thing you know, he's all over you, hands and lips and hair everywhere as he punctuates his rain of "I love you I love you I love you" with kisses; one confession and one kiss at a time does Eddie return the sentiment wholeheartedly to you. You're overwhelmed, desperately so, with Eddie, and you cling to him as tightly as he clings to you, both of you squeezing, squeezing, and feeling like there is nowhere else you would rather be, no one else whom you would rather be with.

"Please don't leave me, Y/N, please. Please stay." Hushed words against your skin, fingers digging, lips trailing across your collarbone, Eddie everywhere all at once. You nod, not knowing how to say it any more than you already have but still feeling like you want to cry from love, with love and because of love.

Love.

Something which has been missing for the duration of your positive upset today slams into you and you stop to take a second. You haven't commented on any of Eddie's passions, on anything he loves the most, and won't this be a sure fire way to hammer home that you love Eddie for Eddie? To say I see you, I know you and what you love, and I want to share in those things with you, is truly a gift of a sentence. Decision made and words drifting easily across your mind as if they have always been there, a somewhat devious smile grows on your lips, your eyes soft as you gaze at the man you love most of all. "'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.'"

Eddie stiffens, pulls back just enough to look at you, and then he smiles again, he smiles just as you did, that living mask, before he nuzzles down into your body, hugging you to him like you're a pillow. He settles in for the evening, his dark curls tickling the side of your jaw, his body so tightly pressed against yours that you can feel every plane of him. With your truth, with your tears and your bravery have you brought Eddie to the point where there are no words now, there's only emotions. And that's okay, you realise as you stroke Eddie's hair, his back, as you mumble love to him and hear him say it back instantly as his hands grip your hips in comfort and grounding - for which of you, you know not, but it doesn't matter. Some things can't be explained, they can only be felt, and that's just what the both of you intend to do.

Feel and love.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb

182 notes · View notes

feralshadowdemon · 3 months

Note

HELLO

ivan, chuuya, fukuchi, tetchou, AAAAND

yosano

HELLO!!!!!!!!! THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG ivan goncharov first impression: oh how did fyodor fuck you up (did not know/realize he was lobotomized either) impression now: ohh he's my silly. his english dub voice gives me gender envy. i like his eyes. he is weirdly a well-written lobotomized guy. i looked into actual lobotomy for you favorite moment: his entire fight scene was good and more people should talk about it. signed yours truly me idea for a story: primarily? a general character study, however, - bubble bath. it is a character study with him and shibusawa. not set in canon - highschool au. he deserves to be a normal highschool student. he would swear a sweater vest. i will die on this hill unpopular opinion: his character is really fucking good and yes his ability's name is on the nose but i hope we see him again. i don't like shipping him in canon though bc he can't. Consent. Fyovan should not exist. also i think more people should be paying attention to the bsd side characters favorite relationship: shibuvan/shibusawa x ivan and you know it. my #1 comfort ship in my heart. they are so cute <3 favorite headcanon: he has tics and freckles. also sometimes i like making him trans the others are below v

chuuya nakahara first impression: oh he's cool impression now: I WANT TO BE YOU YOUR CHARACTER IS SO COOL GIVE ME YOUR GENDER YOUR CHARACTER SCRATCHES MY BRAIN YOUR ABILITY IS SO COOL. I AM NOT NORMAL. favorite moment: THE HELICOPTER SCENE OH MY GODD idea for a story: i have many! - hirotsu visits him during a stormy night and he's suffering w chronic pains but hirotsu gets him his meds. they get to talk a little. they are silly to me - summer camp au w dazai they are at war constantly - i have too many, but to briefly summarize the rest: fan dancer and kitsune au, meiji era/period au, chuuya and kouyou fic/character study, there will be more after i read stormbringer unpopular opinion: he probably doesn't have anger issues. might just be agitated easily or because of dazai. also people need to stop getting his character soo wrong because the amount of mischaracterization that surrounds that man is NOT funny favorite relationship: people sleep on his and hirotsu's possible dynamic. next one is well. okay. it's obvious, but soukoku, i just like their dynamic whether it's romantic or not. absolute menaces. shoutout to kunichuuzai also, but i honestly cannot ship that man all the time. bonus platonic relationships i really like is the idea of tetchou and chuuya becoming good fucking friends. let chuuya have so many friends to make up for the ones he's lost favorite headcanon(s): freckles chuuya, lightning scars chuuya, nonbinary chuuya (i dont use they/them for them all the time but i am a believer in it), chronic pains, autistic, metal/rock (the song genre) lover, sanrio and ocean life special interest, also demisexual/demiromantic !! sorry they have the most. favoritism is showing fukuchi ochi

first impression: oh doesn't he kill everybody's faves. meh impression now: YOUR CHARACTER AND WRITING IS SO OVERLOOKED. YOU ARE DAD MATERIAL AND THAT SCARES ME BUT IM ALSO :D ABOUT IT favorite moment: the entire fucking fight he has with atsushi and akutagawa. you don't understand he was both terrifying and also that gave me an actual adrenaline rush once i watched it in the anime. the music was so good. also the scene w aya !! idea for a story: the main one is a fukufuku fic where it goes through how overtime, fukuzawa in fukuchi's eyes is more like a wolf than a human being. it's his way of making it hurt less when he has to hurt him. i cant remember any others, but i hope there will be more unpopular opinion: can the fandom not hate on him so much lmao i dont mind seeing people dislike him that's valid but like. give him a chance i swear. he also can be trusted with children favorite relationship: him and fukuzawa's (romantically or platonically idrc). holy shit. holy shit. holy shi- also bonus shoutout to him and ranpo's!! it is not shown a lot but augh. of course i love his relationship with the hunting dogs too but fukufuku sits at the top favorite headcanon: hm. i can't think of any rn tetchou suehiro

first impression: AUTISTIC impression now: AUTISTIC favorite moment: them and kenji's fight >>>>> idea for a story: they are a samurai and they meet jouno along the way. they stay with fukuchi after having a rough run-in with an innkeeper and some people who are after them. they smell like blossoms unpopular opinion: i wish people wrote them beating up people more they're literally one of the strongest characters (physically specifically) of bsd favorite relationship: them and jouno's is peak favorite headcanon: asexual and nonbinary tetchou for the win. my most favorite one of all time though is them being half-taiwanese :] akiko yosano (surprise???)

first impression: please be well written. impression now: she is so cool!! i wish she had more screentime but oh my god she is so cool <33333 she is fun in the manga and i love her so much favorite moment: her backstory i wanna say. we don't get too much content of her but damn her backstory hits hard. it adds so much to her character and i love her a lot idea for a story: she and fukuzawa go shopping together. i think she also deserves some fics w fukuzawa. they have a fun time !! unpopular opinion: not a fan of kousano favorite relationship: her and ranpo's. siblings your honor, absolute siblings, ALSO THAT ONE SCENE IN HER BACKSTORY WHERE HE KNEELS DOWN TO HER AND SHES CRYING AND SJJSDHHFBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA favorite headcanon: aro/ace yosano is cool. very cool. aro/ace yosano.? holds her out to you. Consider

#lou *throws you a breadcrumb*#ask game #bsd

6 notes · View notes

istorkyou · 2 years

Text

A Situationship (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x OFC

Warning - STRICTLY 18+. Language. Alcohol use. Fluff

Synopsis - No strings attached. What could go wrong?

Word Count - 3304

Big thanks to @punkrocknpearls for cheerleading, laying her beta magic all over this and the AMAZING moodboard. Look at it. Look at it now. None of my bullshit would see the light of day if it wasn’t for her, so she’s to blame!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)

@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes@noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73 @meandmycherrytree

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

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

CHAPTER 6 - Final Chapter

3 YEARS LATER

“IVAR!” She hears MJ shout and the front door slams, making every window in the house shake. “IVAR WHERE ARE YOU?”

Heading to the stairs she hears Ivar leave his study and follow the shouts of MJs voice.

“I’m here. What’s wrong?”

Decker comes out and gives her a quick grimace. It’s been a while since there’s been shouting like this in their house.

MJ found it the hardest when they all moved into their new place, further from friends but not so much that a school change was needed. In general, the transition of Ivar into their lives had been smooth. Mainly. Decker always took everything with a pinch of salt so there were no issues there and Ivar and Decks are thick as thieves now, two peas in a pod.

“The project that’s what’s wrong! You totally screwed me over! I was relying on that mark to bring up my average!”

“MJ, calm down for a minute. What do you mean I screwed you over?”

“I got an F. A fail. A big fat fuck all! All because of you! You told me all the wrong shit. All those books you gave me were wrong. My teacher said so!”

As she and Decker enter the kitchen she can see Ivar’s face but MJ’s back is towards them. Ivar’s expression is one of total bewilderment. “MJ what did your teacher say? I read through your coursework, it was completely perfect.”

“I knew I should have picked the bloody Victorians. Stupid Norse bollocks. She said all the Gods were wrong. All the Viking ship detailing was ridiculous, she said all these stupid old rusty weapons around our house are fake and she gave me an F,” MJ starts to sob.

“Your teacher said what? Your teacher’s a moron! Every single bit of information on your coursework was spot on, you researched everything, cross referenced… fucking wrong?!” He glances at her and his face turns from confusion to complete rage.

“Ivar…” she warns him in a low tone.

“No, love! Absolutely not. MJ, get up. We are going straight to that school and I am going to give your stupid ass teacher a lesson in Norse history. Come on…” he stomps around the kitchen, grabbing his keys and grumbling to himself. “Fucking wrong, no dumb ass teacher calls my kid wrong and gets away with it! Come on, MJ!”

Every single face swivels to face Ivar, eyes wide and mouths open.

“Up, MJ… what?” he says when he sees them all staring at him.

Her heart has almost leapt out of her chest at what he just said, Decker's grip is crushing her hand and MJ looks as stunned as she has ever seen her child look. Her breath is held, waiting for MJ to explode into a torrent of abuse at the words Ivar has just said.

But there is no shouting, she just watches MJ reaching into the school bag and pulls out the coursework.

Ivar is still looking around at all three of them “Why’s everyone… MJ I will go to that school on my own if I…”

MJ walks slowly to Ivar. “I was just joking, playing a prank. I got an A+ thanks to you.” MJ launches at Ivar, wrapping arms around him. “You called me your kid.”

It takes Ivar a few seconds to register what’s happening before he hugs MJ back.

The sight in front of her is something she only hoped for in her wildest dreams and tears stain her cheeks before she even knows they have formed.

Decks lets go of her hand and stomps up to Ivar and MJ. “Am I your kid as well, Ivar?”

Ivar can’t speak apparently, he just nods his head firmly and extends his arm out for Decker who runs in for the cuddle quickly.

As she wipes her tears she sees Ivar’s throat bobbing up and down, trying to suppress his own happy tears.

MJ pulls away and looks at her. “Jesus Mum, are you crying? You are so cringe. Ivar, would you really have gone to the school all guns blazing?”

“I would have taken all my “fake weapons” and blood eagled your twat of a teacher, kiddo.”

“You are so weird, Ivar. Thanks so much for all your help on my project. Right, I'm going to meet Lucy, see you all later.”

“I think you’re cool, Ivar.” Decker chips in.

“Thanks Decks. I think you are cool as well, do you want to go and throw axes at the tree out back?”

“Yeah! I’ll get them!”

They both watch the youngest run off happily.

He turns his attention to her and holds out his hands.

“Am I the man or am I the man?” He drawls with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Oh don’t act all cool now! You were about to burst into tears, you big softie!”

“Oh my God I really was, I’ve no idea how I held it together. That might have been the best moment of my life.”

“Mine too. I love you.” She takes his hands and lets him pull her into his arms.

“I love you too,” he whispers against her hair.

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

1 YEAR LATER

Staring at his phone he glances over at Decks and gives him a quick nod.

“Ivar, can you come with me to the Mall? I need new trainers.”

“Already? I bought you some like two weeks ago.” She looks over the top of her laptop at him.

“Fine, maybe I just want some new ones.” Decks rolls eyes and glances at Ivar.

“Come on, Kiddo, I’ll take you.”

“Ivar, don’t you dare buy anymore bloody trainers, I’m still waiting for Steven to pay me for those.”

“Window shopping, love, and maybe a burger?”

Decks give him a high five as they head out the house.

“Smooth, kiddo. Nice one. We are meeting MJ in thirty minutes, we better hurry.”

They don’t go to the mall, they go into a village twenty minutes away from their own and meet MJ outside a cute little shop.

“Ready for this, Ivar?” MJ slaps his shoulder hard.

“Never been more ready for anything ever.”

The little bell above the door tinkles as the three of them walk into the jeweller to design the most important piece of jewellery he will ever buy.

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

“So guys, it looks like we’ve got six weeks until the ring is ready.”

“You better hope she doesn’t realise what a giant dork you are in that time, hey Ivar?” MJ and Decks crack up and all he can do is roll his eyes at the pair of ball busters in front of him.

“She will like it right, the ring?”

“She will love it, you’ve done a great job.” MJ says sincerely, for once.

“WE’VE done a great job.”

“And I still have your guys permission to marry your mum?”

“Always,” MJ says then throws a middle finger up when Ivar’s eyes get misty.

“I’m having second thoughts,” Decker admits, eyes on the plate of food.

Ivar starts to laugh but it dies on his tongue when he looks at Decker’s face. His heart drops into his stomach. He looks to MJ for an explanation but he can see that it's a shock all round.

“Why’s that, kiddo?”

Decks takes a big breath in and looks directly into Ivar’s eyes. “It’s not second thoughts really, but I want my dad at the wedding.”

Ivar almost chokes on thin air but he manages to compose himself.

Ivar and Steven. Oil and water. Ivar thinks the man is a total waste of space but would never, ever tell the kids that.

They don’t know that they’ve almost come to blows twice over Steven letting them down, over the way he has spoken to her.

They certainly don’t know that Ivar punched him at Deckers 13th birthday when he walked into the kitchen in her old house to hear Steven telling her he wanted to fuck her one last time, that they didn’t have to tell ‘the cripple’. He got to him before she managed to and for that Steven should have been grateful because she was way more pissed then Ivar was.

“Okay, Decks, if it is important to you we will extend the invitation out to your Dad and Nancy.” Ivar grits his teeth so hard he’s worried a dentist trip might be necessary.

“Ha! I’m just playing Ivar! I don’t want dad there, you might punch him again.” Decks and MJ fall about laughing and high five each other.

“Nice one, Decks!” MJ wipes tears of mirth away.

Ivar huffs out a laugh of total relief. “When will you two stop busting my nuts, eh? And I never punched your dad.”

They both level him with looks as if to say “sure you didn’t.”

“My fist may have brushed against his cheeks once. Gently.”

“Sure it did. Anyway that’s whatever. Decks, can you go and get me a refill?” MJ shakes the empty glass at Decker.

“Lazy, get it yourself!” Decker replies.

“Please, Decks. I need to talk about adult shit. I will fill you in later, I promise. Please.”

Decker looks between them and grabs MJs glass to head to the counter.

“Ivar, listen to me. She won’t want a big wedding. You know that, right? When she married dad she always referred to it as “the spectacle”. A day that was for absolutely everyone but her. I heard her over the years talking about it with her friends. Dad made it a big, ridiculous day and she didn’t want it. She wanted it low-key but Dad, being Dad, steam rolled everything and made it this massive to-do.”

Ivar looks at MJ with admiration, never one to shy away from an awkward topic, a carbon copy of his love.

“She mentioned it. Thanks for telling me. He’s your dad, I’m sorry you heard her talking about him like that.”

“I lived through it, she thinks I was too young but little pots have big ears. I love my Dad, but I’ve always been able to separate him as a father from him as a husband. He’s a bullshit person, don’t try and argue with me Ivar. You are her happiness, outside me and Decks. You are something just for her, and I am so pleased you fought for her. I don’t want you to go into this engagement not knowing what she wants from a wedding. I’ve no doubt you know what she wants from a marriage.”

“Oh, MJ…”

“Don’t cry, Ivar. I cannot handle that level of cringe. I just needed you to know, okay? Wipe your bloody face before Decks gets back, Jesus.”

He does what MJ says and promises he will give her Mum everything she wants.

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

EIGHT WEEKS LATER

After four nights away for work she pulls into the drive on Friday evening. She wishes they were having a quiet night together, she’s tired and horny but this evening at Ubbe’s house has been booked in for a couple of weeks and she can’t let them down, it’s a catered dinner for Torvis' birthday.

The house is dark, she shouts for them when she walks through the door but she’s met with silence.

“Lovely, no one's even here,” she grumps and texts Ivar as she walks up the stairs to their bedroom. Their bed looks so inviting but she daren’t lie down for a second, she knows she won’t get back up.

She is so tired she takes advantage of the custom shower and sits down on the ledge until the scalding water revives her a bit.

After she’s done she does her usual routine, walking into her closet to pick a dress. Ivar said people are getting suited and booted and she does love an excuse to dress up.

There’s something new hanging in her closet, covered in a garment bag. She frowns at it before seeing a card stuck to it, her smile grows wide. Ivar likes to do this, he buys her clothes often, always something that clings to her ass.

She opens the card and the words make her heart beat pick up.

-Sorry I wasn’t there when you got home. Had to leave early. I missed you so much. This dress will look amazing on you and even better ripped apart on the bedroom floor later. I love you. Ivar x

She snorts as she unzips the bag to see a champagne coloured halter neck dress with a long slit up the side. Beautiful and elegant. That horny little bastard is absolutely not ripping this dress!

When she has finished her hair and make up there is still no reply from Ivar so calls him.

“Hi, Love. Sorry, I didn’t see your message. Having a bit of a crisis here. Did you see the dress? Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, Ivar. Thank you. I’ll send you a picture.”

“No, don't do that,” he says hurriedly. “I want to see it for the first time when you get here, okay?”

“Alright you little weirdo. How Ubbe’s garden looking? Is it decorated as beautifully as it was at Christmas?”

“It’s better, baby. He’s pulled out all the stops this time?”

“Did he leave stops in last time? Jeez! I can’t wait to see it. Do you know where the kids are?”

“I just put them in a taxi home, they’ve been here helping out loads. They just need to get changed. Are you almost ready? See you in an hour?”

“Ivar, are you okay? You sound a bit frantic?”

“I’m fine, just want things to be perfect here.”

“Alright, love. Try and relax, you sound frazzled.”

He laughs. “Will do love, see you in an hour.”

The kids shout to her when they get home that they are going to change, she comes out of her bedroom in time to see both their doors slam shut.

Her clock says the taxi will be here in thirty minutes. “Guys, twenty minutes until taxi,” she fibs. She knows her children well.

The wine is giving her a lovely calm feeling when they both walk into the kitchen.

They look so smart she almost drops her wine on the floor.

“Ah Mum, you look lovely, that dress is beautiful.” MJ says genuinely

She just looks stunned at them, both in almost matching suits with flares of their personality on them. A skull pin on MJs lapel and Decks has a drum kit embroidered on his.

“Guys,” she says breathlessly. “You look absolutely amazing! Look at you! Where did you get these suits?”

“Ivar took us shopping for tonight, it’s a big night. For Torvi,” Decker adds quickly, and she is so caught up she misses it.

“Decks, did you wash your hair?” She smooths her hand into her child’s hair.

A beep from outside breaks her from her daze and both her kids hook their arms through hers.

“Come on then, Mum. Let’s do this.”

“We are just going for a birthday dinner, not heading into battle. Bloody dramatic, the pair of you!”

When the taxi pulls up Decks is out of the car and inside Ubbe’s place before she’s even opened her door.

“What’s the rush?”

MJ’s eye roll. “Who knows.”

MJ holds on to her arm as they walk up the steps to Ubbe’s front door and as they reach it Decks wrenches it open with a giant smile.

She looks at her youngest quizzically then enters the house.

A white chair is slap bang in the middle of the hallway and no one else is around. When she takes a closer look she recognises the chair.

“Why the hell is our old conservatory chair in Ubbe and Torvis hallway?” she asks incredulously.

Both the kids just smirk at her and go and stand either side of it.

Ivar emerges from the room to the left. “That’s not any old chair, is it, love?” He walks to her slowly and kisses her softly.

“Hi, love. I missed you,” she tells him, already slightly breathless at his hands on her waist. “You look so handsome in your suit,” she kisses him again to the sound of Decker's mock retching.

“Turn around, let me look at you in this dress.”

She smiles at him and does a twirl.

“Beautiful.” He leans in close to her ear, “the ass, love. Perfection as always.”

“I heard that!” Decks pipes up from his spot.

They both chuckle and make awkward faces at the other.

“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” She asks looking into the rooms either side of the hallway.

“Outside. Now, love, back to the chair. That's not just any chair, is it? I had it put in storage when we moved to our house.”

“I’m confused, Ivar.”

“Come here,” he holds her hand and leads her to the chair, sitting down heavily on it, whilst holding her hands.

“This is a special chair, this is the chair that made me start to fall in love with you.”

“I remember,” she says as her mouth twists round at the memory of his stunned face when she first put it in her shower.

“I thought it only fitting to use this chair tonight, in absence of my ability to get down on one knee, to ask you if you will do me the great honour of being my wife?”

Her jaw drops to her chest. She had no idea this was going to happen, but apparently her children did judging by the look on their face.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Absolutely yes!”

“Mum, get a hold on yourself, you haven’t even seen the ring yet!”

Ivar's face is an absolute picture, the most gorgeous and happy she’s ever seen him look.

He pulls out the ring box, opening it slowly to reveal the most beautiful ring she’s ever seen.

“We all designed it, went to a proper jeweller who made it especially. It’s one of a kind,” Decks announces proudly.

Ivar stands up and slips the ring on her finger pulling her to him for a deep kiss.

“I love you so much. You’ve given me everything I thought I would never have.”

“I love you too, Ivar. I’ve never been happier.”

She suddenly whacks him on the chest. “Ivar, we’ve totally hijacked Torvis' birthday dinner. Oh God, we're awful people! Let’s wait until tomorrow to tell them.”

“Mum, you are so clever but that’s just dumb, tell her Decks.”

“This isn’t Torvis birthday party, this is your wedding.” Decks squeals in excitement.

Her brain doesn’t compute. Total shuts down. What did Decks just say? Wedding?!

When her eyes finally focus on Ivar he looks uncertain. “Only if it’s ok with you. I know you don’t want the traditional thing, big pomp and circumstance. If you want to, we can walk out into the garden and get married in front of the only people that matter to us. The kids, our close family and some friends.”

Ivar’s face is different, not the cocky self assured guy she knows, she’s looking at the man from her house all those years ago, putting his heart on the line in front of her and his brothers.

“Right now?” She chokes out and looks at her children who both nod in the most encouraging way that the tiny sliver of doubt she feels evaporates, leaving nothing but an absolute certainty that she is about to marry the love of her life.

He wipes her spilling tears and she nods at him.

He pulls her to him as he lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Let’s do this then, love.”

The four of them link arms and walk towards the closed doors to Ubbe’s garden, ready to complete a beautiful chapter in all their lives

FIN

(Thanks for reading!)

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar smut #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #Modern!AU #vikings modern au #modern ivar #modern!ivar x ofc #modern!ivar #vikings au #vikings fic #vikings fandom #MODERN VIKINGS

72 notes · View notes