#it was a good movie but i couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid issue the entire time

[134340am]

there was once i was feeling very awful and anxious about this thing so i went out and watched a movie and bought a little plushie to try and make my day better… like i didn’t want to stay home and marinate in my worry and everything… well it Did Not Work because now every time i hear the movie’s soundtrack or hug my plushie i m reminded of how people out there are evil and bad and gross

#yes there is good in this world bla bla bla prove it then #the good-ish news is that my plushie is tolerable now #after many months of being 🤨 about it #the movie… not so much #it was a good movie but i couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid issue the entire time #which made watching it unbearable and distracting 🤨🤨🤨 #anyways just wanted to share <3 heh #the lesson learnt here is that people can preach all they want about kindness but still be the most unkind #actually no the lesson learnt here is. don’t spend money when stressed. #yea that’s it 🤨 #tmi tuna

[misctf]

Movie Night

“Dude, look at this!” Matt looked up from his unpacking and walked over to where Josh was sitting, “I guess the old tenants forgot this gem.” Josh chuckled holding up an old DVD.

Matt grabbed is from his buddy. While there was no title on the case, the picture of two skinny blond men making out in a bedroom certainly caught his attention. Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Certainly interesting. Not sure if this is what they meant by fully furnished” He chuckled, “Guess they forgot it.” Not a huge deal- given that the rent was so low and it was within walking distance to their classes, a few scandalous items were acceptable. Yet Matt stared at the DVD case- at the two men passionately making out. He didn’t have any issues with gay people, but there was something about this DVD. The two men were certainly handsome, the one hairless and with a pretty impressive ass, while the other was just a tad more muscular and dominant looking.

“Earth to Matt, you good there bud?” Josh chuckled.

Matt blushed and looked up at his friend, “Uh yeah, sorry haha.” He laughed awkwardly, somewhat confused by his thoughts. Since when did he care about how good a man's ass looked? He focused on his friend, “We should probably put it back where we found it.” He said, his voice dropping off towards the end of his sentence. Matt couldn’t help but appreciate just how well Josh’s gray shirt hugged his body. Something about it just captured his friend’s muscular physique so well, and while he continued to stare, he felt a heat rising up within him.

“Hey you okay dude?” Josh asked, looking more concerned, “Lemme just take this from ya.” He chuckled awkwardly, grabbing the DVD case from his friend.  Matt looked confused for a moment before shaking his head, “Feeling better now? Didn’t think you’d get all worked up over two gay guys.” Josh teased, looking down at the case.

“Yeah I don’t know, sorry man. Must’ve zoned out.” Matt took a deep breath, suddenly noticing how intensely Josh was staring at the case.

“You think we should watch it?” Josh asked, his voice somewhat distant and his eyes still staring at the case, “I mean, we have the DVD player.”

“Dude, what the hell?” Matt chuckled, “It’s probably some gay porn tape.”

“Only one way to find out!” the brunette replied with a grin, sticking the DVD in.

Matt wanted to protest, but when the DVD started playing, a strange sensation washed over him. The two of them sat on the couch, watching the film intensely. It wasn’t porn, but instead a stupid rom com of the two gay men. It was funny, it was romantic, and before either of the two realized, they had become enthralled in the plot. It was fairly predictable, at least to Matt- two soulmates unable to be together, overcoming the odds and making it. Of course with some passionate romance mixed in. But yet he couldn’t stop watching and rooting for the two main characters. And based on how Josh was similarly leaning forward, eyes focused, Matt assumed he was equally interested. But as the film was reaching its predictable conclusion, Matt felt a discomfort in his crotch.

“What the fuck?” He muttered, his erection straining against his pants. He quickly tried to adjust, which didn’t go unnoticed by Josh. Before his friend could say anything, Matt got up and turned away, “I need to go to my room.” He said quickly.

The young man rushed towards his room, wincing at the discomfort in his pants. He slammed the door and immediately stripped, his eyes widening at the site of his raging erection. Yeah the movie had some R-rated scenes, but it was all gay shit anyway. Why was he getting so horned up over some gay rom com? And when did it get so fucking hot? He threw off his shirt and stood naked in his room, taking deep breaths.

“Dude, you good?” Matt jumped and turned to face Josh, who was standing in the doorway. Yeah they had seen each other naked a few times in the locker room, but this wasn’t the same. And Matt couldn’t help but blush.

He wanted to say something, to say anything really, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. He wanted to tell Josh to get out and to leave him alone- but it was like those words were trapped behind a mental barrier. And much to Matt’s horror, he could see Josh eyeing his erection. The two men’s eyes met, and although they couldn’t say anything, it was clear they were both not in control of the situation.

“Josh... what is this?” Matt strained as he proudly flaunted his erect member to his best friend.

Josh couldn’t look away, “I-I don’t know... I can’t...” He took a deep breath, “It’s like the movie... when the two guys first...”

Without another word, Josh’s body moved on its own, walking over to his naked friend. And before Matt could protest, Josh kissed him, passionately on the lips. Matt’s eyes widened, before he found himself reciprocating. He felt his hand move against his friend’s toned abdomen, gripping the gray shirt that covered his body.

“Let’s get rid of this.” Matt whispered. That cheesy line... it was just like what the one character from the movie. Why was he saying this shit? And as Josh’s shirt was thrown aside, the two continued passionately making out. He could feel as his friend gripped his ass and gave it a squeeze, causing Matt to moan. And in that instant, Matt could swear that his voice sounded higher. But before he could fully register what was happening, Josh pushed him onto his bed.

“And I’ll get rid of these.” Josh grinned removing his pants, while his eyes betrayed his fear.

Matt felt himself lick his lips as he gazed upon his now naked friend. And Matt could swear that his friend’s hair had taken on a somewhat lighter hue. But before he could fully register his friend’s changes, Josh had crawled on top of his friend, his sweaty muscular body pressed closely as the two continued to make out. Against his will, he began thrusting his hips as the two grinded against one another, moaning as they did. All the while, Matt was becoming aware of something. As his hands caressed his friend’s muscular arms and back, it almost seemed like his friend was losing mass.

“Josh...” Matt forced out, “You need to stop... you’re changing...”

Josh stopped for just a second and frowned, “I’m not the only one.” He forced out, before locking lips with his friend and then slowly kissing down his friend’s neck.

During this, Matt was able to turn his head to catch a glimpse of them in the mirror. Josh was smaller now, while still muscular, he must’ve lost some height and some mass, making the man a bit smaller overall. Meanwhile, Matt watched as his black hair became lighter and lighter, until settling on a natural blond and he let out another high pitched moan as his voice settled on a higher tenor.

“Damn babe, I love it when you moan like that.” Josh grinned, running his hand along Matt’s shrinking biceps and triceps.

“Josh... please...” Matt croaked out, his breath getting caught as his entire body shrunk rapidly. Years of working out and going to the gym seemed to reverse themselves as his frame became much smaller, with only small lean muscles, mostly for showing off rather than for strength.

“Don’t worry, I know what ya like.” Josh replied, flipping them so that Matt was on top and giving his friend’s ass a squeeze.

Matt moaned, feeling as his friend played with his juicy ass and hole, the feeling beyond anything that he was used to. He looked down at Josh and watched as two nipple piercing magically appeared and a tattoo formed on his left thigh.

“Josh...” Matt moaned, turning to the mirror, his eyes widening in horror. They looked just like the two guys from the movie. And it looked like he was becoming the more submissive of the pair- the "bottom". It was like a whole new vocabulary and knowledge was filling his head, and he knew he didn't want it. He did his best and pushed himself off the bed, landing on his jiggly ass.

“Woah there babe, you good?” Josh asked looking down. To Matt’s dismay, the look of fear that had clued him into his friend still being there was gone. Instead, it was the look of that guy from the movie... the passionate, caring, and sexy stare of his more dominant boyfriend. And it made Matt shiver.

“This isn’t right, we can’t be together!” Matt breathed out, a feeling of guilt welling up inside him. And it was at that moment he realized... that was the same line from the movie. He was still acting it out.

Josh slowly got off the bed, and plopped down next to Matt. He placed a comforting hand on his cheek, and forced him to look into his eyes.

“I don’t care.” He whispered, “I love you.”

And Matt knew it was over. It was just like the movie, the same stupid lines, the same passionate romance. And he hated how predictable it was- how he knew what was going to happen next. A warm feeling welled up from within Matt, all the concern and worry about being with Josh dissipating as he stared intensely into his boyfriend’s eyes. Josh made him feel right... safe even. All he wanted to do was be with him. And with that, the two leaned in for another passionate kiss, the sensual night picking up exactly where it had left off.

The next morning, Matt woke up, curled up in the arms of his lover. He nestled closer to Josh, enjoying the warmth and comfort that it brought.

“Good morning beautiful.” Josh whispered, planting a small kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Matt smiled and planted a quick kiss on Josh’s lips, before slowly pushing himself out of bed. Josh smirked, taking in the site of his naked boyfriend.

“Now that’s a sight I won’t get tired of.” Josh pushed himself out of bed and kissed Matt quickly, “Come on, we should probably get something to eat. I’m drained.” He winked.

As the two walked down to the kitchen and passed the living room, something caught Matt’s eye. He walked over to the DVD case that was tossed on the floor and picked it up, inspecting the cover. It was of two guys, in decent shape and working out at the gym together. He chuckled, they were kind of sexy, but he much preferred his smooth, toned look. Not to mention, so did Josh.  

“Better put this back.” He whispered, placing the DVD back in the cabinet, the memory of it quickly vanished from his mind. And as he walked back into the kitchen where his sexy boyfriend was making them breakfast, he couldn’t wait to see what the day would bring.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #twinkification #mental change

[mrsaltieri-real]

Sam Carpenter as a Girlfriend (SFW and NSFW)

Sam Carpenter as a girlfriend (with fem!afab!reader)

A/N: Just realised this will be my last post as a 22 year old as it’s my birthday tomorrow and I’ve never written anything for my best girl before. Disgraceful. So let’s start off with some Headcanons!

SFW

Initially, it takes her a while to trust you

She wanted just a fling to start with but found she couldn’t stop thinking about you and it was driving her nuts

Eventually plucks up the courage to ask you out and is just so relieved when you say yes

She’d be very hesitant on dates and try and avoid talking about herself as much as possible

Is still on edge after everything with Richie and his family, she doesn’t know if you’re just using her

She has really bad trust issues, will need a lot of reassurance that you’re in it for the long run

Will take her a few months to begin to open up about herself

Once she does? Oh boy.

Honestly the sweetest girlfriend ever

She’ll open doors for you, pull out your chair for you, kiss your hand

She’s just a sweetie

Loves taking her girlfriend on dates to the movies so she has an excuse to hold your hand or put her arm around you

Likes to lie down with her head in your lap and just chat to you about the most mundane things, enjoying the normality

ADORES it when you play with her hair

She’s just so SOFT with you

But extremely overprotective

Considering what she’s been through can you blame her?

Anyone looks at you the wrong way she’ll immediately get defensive

She’ll honestly square up to a 6ft5 boxer if they made you even a little uncomfortable

Will honestly knock a bitch out for you and have no regrets

She likes it when you cook for her

Even if you’re an awful cook she’ll eat every last bite of it

Likes to get stoned and laugh with you all fucking night

Works overtime at her job just so she can treat you to date nights, jewelry, clothes, everything

When you tell her to stop she’ll shut you DOWN

Loved to cuddle, more in private

Gushes about you to Tara

Will watch you sleep for hours on end just asking herself how she got so lucky to find someone like you

Her main love languages are words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time

She’s seriously an amazing girlfriend

NSFW

Sam is a FREAK I don’t make the rules

She’s a dom, a goddamn top

Has a high sex drive for sure

Channels her inner rage and bloodlust into fucking you stupid

She’s an ass and thigh girl with a soft spot for tits

But HEAVY on the thighs

She’ll tie you down and grind her clit on your thigh till she cums

And make you do the same to her, literally manhandle you into her and force your hips to move

Owns a strap, scratch that, she has an entire collection of sex toys that she’ll use on you

Treat her strap like it’s her own cock

She’ll make you gag on it, beg for it, fuck your hand with it

Really really gets her going when your sucking her off, looking up into her eyes

Her hands will be on your head, forcing it down your throat

Likes to finger you. Like, REALLY likes to finger you

Then force her fingers into your mouth and make you taste yourself

Same when she’s eating you cunt, she’ll make out with you hard afterward

Likes you to know how wet she’s made you

Her favourite positions with the strap are missionary and doggy

Doggy because she likes the view and it allows her to spank you (she loves spanking)

Missionary because it allows her to kiss you, choke you, rub your clit

A big dirty talker. Not much on degradation but has a massive praise kink on both ends

Likes when you tell her how good she feels, likes to tell you how good you are, how amazing you taste, how good you feel

Really loves phone sex, hearing you get off to her words is just such a turn on for her

She does enjoy scissoring but she prefers thigh riding

Likes when you scratch her up with your nails hard enough to draw blood

Expect to be marked up to holy hell when she is done with you

She really loves to leave hickeys everywhere

You neck, chest, stomach, thighs

Everywhere

Has a big ol’ blood kink that she can’t help

Same with a knife kink

But she’s very calculated with how she incorporates that, the last thing she’d want to do is scare you away

Can and will go down on you for hours, overstimulate the hell out of you and not stop till SHE is done with tasting you

But she loves to receive just as much

She’ll literally fuck your face till your a whimpering, drooling mess

Likes to make you ride her face, will die happily suffocated by your cunt

Sometimes it’s like she a woman possessed and she just can’t control herself when she’s around you

But this is all when she entirely trusts you

After Richie and how he treated her it took her a while to let someone see that side of her

The aftercare is sweet

She’ll clean you up, leaving kisses on every mark she left and just be so gentle with you

Likes to take showers with you and help you clean yourself up

You’ll fall asleep to her tracing her fingers over the hickeys she’d left scattered across your body

#my wife #my girlfriend #i love her so much #she’s so fucking HOT GOD #i gotta write her #i gotta #last post as a 22 year old let’s GO #scream #scream 6 #scream headcanons #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter

[tbrxnnan]

enough for you | e.m.

summary: in which you and eddie munson break up. based on the song by olivia rodrigo.

warnings: none really, cheating if you squint, angst, eddie being stupid, unhappy ending (sorry)

word count: 5,076

would y’all want me to do a sour series? like each song correlates with a separate fic? let me know because i’m thinking about it :) mwah

————————————————————————

you don’t know how you ended up in your current situation. you did know, but you didn’t understand how it could happen. your ex-boyfriend of 2 years, eddie munson, was laughing at a comment his new girlfriend made. she was sitting in your spot at the hellfire club table. his hand held hers like it had once held yours, his thumbs rubbing circles on her palm. what was most shocking to you was that his new girlfriend was chrissy cunningham, the head cheerleader at hawkins high. she wasn’t a terrible person, far from it, but you couldn’t help despising her for replacing you in eddie’s heart and life. you were jealous of how eddie was wrapped around her finger, at how she got the treatment you deserved.

it had all started six months ago when he had first done a drug deal with her. you weren’t suspicious or upset at all, you knew eddie would never do anything to hurt your relationship. however, something had happened in a one week time frame from his deal to them being practically joined at the hip. you knew something terrible had happened but he never let you in on what did happen. the entire week while eddie was practically missing and you were beyond worried, afraid he was dead, and then he came back and was suddenly best friends with chrissy. you didn’t say anything because you weren’t the jealous type, you understood that eddie could have friends that were girls and that wasn’t a problem. you didn’t even have an issue with eddie not telling you what had happened.

what you did have an issue with was how eddie started to detach from your relationship, and how fast he did. he started flaking on your after school hangouts because he would take chrissy to your guys’ spot in the woods instead. when he touched you, it was as if he didn’t want to. he stopped calling you at night like he would to say goodnight. he stopped waiting for you by your classes. he would cancel your dates on short notice, so often that you stopped reminding him or getting ready because you knew a cancellation would come. when you would hang out, it was awkward. he stopped complimenting you, which hurt a lot. you missed when he would say how pretty you looked in the morning, how you made the room brighter, how he loved the way you styled your hair, how you looked great in his clothes. the worst part about the compliments stopping was when you brought it up to him.

“eddie, did i do something wrong?” you asked quietly.

you were sitting on the couch in his trailer, your bodies not touching, a horror movie playing on the tv.

“no? why?” he questioned, not even looking at you.

“you stopped complimenting me. you used to do it all the time, like, like how i look good in your shirt or how you like my hair. i don’t know, i just feel like you’re mad at me.” you looked at him, your eyes pleading he look back at you.

“maybe i’m just not the compliment type,” he said nonchalantly.

you knew his answer was absolute bullshit. you had heard him compliment chrissy all the time when she was around. he would compliment her ponytail, how she looked nice in her cheer outfit, how nice her smile was. he would say that when you were right there with him. so when he didn’t even tell you he wasn’t mad at you, rather he wasn’t for compliments, you sat there in shock. the tears welled in your eyes. the lump in your throat made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. your chest was so tight. you wanted him to tell you he loved so badly. you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him to look at you, to really look at you and see how broken you were. you wanted him to want you, to love you.

“i want to go home, eddie,” you spoke as you stood up to grab your things.

he looked at you with confusion, asking you why.

“please drive me home,” a tear rolling down your cheek.

“what just happened? what’s going on?” he pressed.

“you found someone more exciting and now you’re gone. you barely touch me anymore. you haven’t told me you’ve loved me in a week. i’m not enough for you.” you looked at eddie still sitting on the couch.

and then you fought, not a small one, a huge one. he accused you of using chrissy as a scapegoat to dump him. he called you emotional and obsessive. he told you that you’d never be satisfied. you tried explaining that he was treating chrissy like his girlfriend, how he was taking her to your spot, how he stopped caring for you, but it’s like he couldn’t listen. you tried telling him how much you loved him, you loved him with all of your soul. eddie was it for you. you had planned to get out of hawkins together when you graduated. your fight had escalated to yelling, both of you on separate sides of the room.

“you’re being stupid, nothing is going on with chrissy and i! maybe we should just break up.” he yelled at you. you were expecting those words, but god did it hurt a million times more than you thought.

“i’ll just walk home. no need to drive me, don’t want you to feel a burden for driving your ex-girlfriend home.” you said softer. you slipped off the hoodie he had given you months ago, folding it and placing it on the table. he didn’t say anything back. he watched as you were sobbing, your body shaking. he watched you walk out of the door, leaving you to walk home alone as the sun was starting to set. the world was crumbling under your feet with each step. you waited and waited for him to pull up in his van and apologize, to have you get in and he’d drive you home himself. but he never came.

when you got home your body was beyond exhausted. you wanted to throw up as you walked into your room and landed on your bed. you needed sleep desperately, your cheeks soaked and your eyes puffy. when you woke up the next morning you had told your parents you felt ill, you couldn’t go to school. when eddie didn’t show up to pick you up for school, the realization of the breakup really set in. you were a mess. you had packed up all of his belongings in a trash bag, planning on dropping it off at his trailer when you felt ready. and then you missed a second day of school, and a third. it was the third day when robin stopped by your house to check on you. she had heard from steve, who had heard from dustin, that eddie and you had broken up, and she knew you’d need a friend. you had confided in her about your feelings about eddie and chrissy, and now robin was there to pick up the pieces that eddie had broken.

it was hard to go back to school and try to move on. chrissy had taken your spot at the table in the time that you had missed school. the hellfire boys missed you desperately, their hearts aching when you weren’t at school and seeing chrissy where you had sat. they watched you from afar. you stopped wearing your bright and happy clothes to school. you stopped styling your hair like eddie used to love. you became very closed off, very quiet. they watched as the jocks messed with you even more now that you and eddie were done. if the freak didn’t even want you then something terrible must be wrong with you. it didn’t help that jason had lost his girlfriend to eddie. the boys watched as you would sit at nancy and robin’s table, never talking, no matter how many times the girls tried to get you to. they watched as you secluded yourself to the library. they were watching you, while eddie was watching chrissy.

they wanted to bring it up to eddie so badly, to tell him to look at what he did to you. you had been so bubbly once, so happy, and now you were a mess. your grades had slipped and you were so close to not walking the stage in may. mike and dustin had overheard you talking with nancy once, they didn’t mean to walk by and catch the conversation, but they were glad they did. they heard your quiet sobs as you had explained to nancy how the fight had really messed with you. they watched as nancy held you in her arms, hearing you talk about how you missed making him coffee in the mornings, how you couldn’t bear to listen to his favorite songs anymore, how you felt like you weren’t enough. they wanted to smack eddie. how could he just ignore the two years you had dated and throw it all away for a cheerleader who didn’t give him an ounce of attention until she needed some drugs. nancy had reassured you that one day you’ll find someone new, someone that you’ll be everything for, and that eddie will be just a thought in the past. you just had to graduate and you could leave hawkins, leave eddie in the past.

now there was only a month until graduation. you were ready to leave, your room practically fully packed. you had secured a job in michigan, far enough from eddie but close enough to your friends and family to visit. so you sat at the table watching eddie treat chrissy like you should’ve been treated. you were able to save your grades. you were able to start talking at lunch again. the hellfire boys, excluding eddie, were grateful you were starting to get better slowly. you had been hanging out with steve, robin and nancy far more than before. you’d occasionally see dustin, mike and lucas as they were attached to steve, and eddie was never part of the conversation when they were around. they had made a pact that eddie was off limits, you didn’t deserve more pain.

the boys didn’t notice eddie walking up to the table while they were in the middle of a conversation about you, specifically about you moving to michigan. they didn’t notice that chrissy wasn’t attached to him, how he looked upset.

“yeah, she said she got this gig at one of the best book stores in michigan, something about being an assistant to the owner. apparently it’s paying well because she’s so excited to go,” dustin said as he unwrapped his sandwich.

“she’s gonna be moving into a family friend’s guest house and going to community college out there,” he said before taking a bite.

eddie was now sat in his designated chair and interrupted the conversation.

“what girl are we talking about, dustin?” he asked, his face resting on his palm.

the boys looked at him awkwardly, they felt that eddie didn’t deserve to know your business. they looked away from eddie and talked to each other with their facial expressions and eyes. eddie was annoyed, why couldn’t they just say her name, it’s not like it would be a big deal. he watched as dustin stuttered out your name, not being able to look eddie in the eyes. before eddie could respond, dustin changed the conversation and asked where chrissy was.

“oh, um, we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” he replied quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

the boys all gave (fake) sympathetic sorries before switching to a totally different conversation, leaving eddie to keep himself company. it was then when eddie looked at you, truly looked at you, for the first time in months. he slightly frowned seeing you with your head down in a book as nancy and robin conversed. your hair was in a plain ponytail and you were wearing plain clothes, not your usual designs or colors. he was also confused why you wouldn’t be attending berkley in the fall, that was your dream school and he swore he heard you had gotten in. what he didn’t know was that you had declined berkeley at the height of your grades mishap and heartbreak. nancy caught eddie staring at you and gave him a nasty stare, eddie quickly looking away. his cheeks turned red and he wasn’t interested in the food sat in front of him anymore.

he wasn’t even heartbroken over the break up with chrissy. they had both realized that bonding over shared trauma was a terrible way to start a relationship and they weren’t really compatible. she didn’t quite enjoy his hobbies and interests (like you had) and he didn’t really vibe with the popular lifestyle. she wasn’t interested in dungeons and dragons like you were and she didn’t really want to go to the hellfire sessions. he didn’t go to any parties with chrissy and he never went to the games to watch her cheer. they just didn’t work well. sure he was upset that he was single, but he wasn’t heartbroken over losing chrissy. the weeks leading up to graduation came by faster than eddie had thought. he was walking down the stage as his name was called, grabbing his diploma and spotting his uncle in the crowd. it took him three times, but he finally graduated. he had spotted you in the crowd. you weren’t looking at him walk the state, of course you wouldn’t. he wanted to talk to you after the ceremony was over. he wanted to see how you were doing but he didn’t want to ruin your special day. you worked so hard and you deserved to celebrate. he did hear from dustin that you’d be leaving in a week. he had one week to talk to you before you were gone.

the week went by painfully slow. he kept thinking about what he would say to you. he still hadn’t unpacked the trash bag of his belongings you ding dong ditched at his door. he thought a lot about you two during that week. he thought about how you two had been best friends before you started dating. he took you under his wing for hellfire and watched you blossom. he failed his senior year the first time to stay back with you another year, though he never told you that.

he thought about your first kiss at the spot in the woods.

you two had been sitting at the bench at your secret spot in the woods. you were absentmindedly reading the first lord of the rings book while eddie was smoking a joint. he was watching you with adoration, he was a goner. he swore he was in love with you and that you were destined to be together. it was a pretty day for hawkins. the sun was shining, it wasn’t too cold and the breeze was comforting. eddie had cleared his throat to get your attention, his heart soaring when you placed your bookmark on the page and looked up at him with a smile.

“i love you,” he grinned.

“i know, eds. i love you too,” you said softly, placing your hand on your book. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“no, like i’m in love with you. like when i pick you up in the mornings i love seeing your smile. i love when we hangout, even if we’re both silent like right now, because i get to be around you and for the time being it makes this town a little less shitty. i love how you giggle during hellfire. like, you’re it for me. i love you,” he said softly as he inches closer to you.

you two were facing each other and your heart was beating so fast. you had been crushing on eddie since you first spotted him in the cafeteria on your first day. you thought he was the most beautiful boy at school and it made your stomach flip when he smiled at you. the more you spent time with eddie, the more you had fallen for him, and here he is devoting his love to you.

“oh, eddie,” you said softly and looked into his eyes. he looked incredibly nervous; he was waiting for the inevitable turn down.

“when i saw you in the cafeteria on my first day i was a goner. you really love me?” you blushed, running your fingers over his.

“i do, really. you don’t have to say it back but i just needed you to know,” he replied as he played with your fingers.

he was pleasantly surprised when your lips were on his, your hands cupping his cheeks. your lips were so soft. he could taste your honey and vanilla chapstick. his hands found your waste and pulled you closer, as if that was even possible. all of your worries melted, it was just the two of you against the world. he tasted like weed but you didn’t mind. your hands found his way into his hair, lightly tugging. you pulled away when you needed a breather, noticing how eddie’s pink lips were swollen. he was breathing hard, his cheeks red and his eyes soft on yours. you knew you looked like the same blushing mess as him and you giggled.

“i love you, eds. you’re it for me,” you whispered before pulling him in for a kiss again.

he thought about how when you’d sleepover, you’d let him sleep in when you’d wake up. you’d make coffee for the both of you, his in the garfield mug and yours in a plain mug. he had a very serious and tough image but he was a softy with you, hence the garfield mug. he thought about how you loved his favorite songs. he thought about your dates at the drive in. he thought about your smile, how you used to style your hair, how you looked in his clothes. he thought about how you’d be at every corroded coffin show. the crowd was very small but you’d always be there, sticking out like a sore thumb in your bright clothes compared to everyone else. he was so grateful for you to show up to every show, supporting his dreams and all.

he thought about when you asked him to come to california with him.

you both had been laying on his bed, you on your stomach with a book in your hands and eddie on his back, running his fingers up and down your spine as music played in the background. you had been wanting to ask eddie for so long to join you in california, but you were afraid he’d say no. he had his band to think about and you didn’t want to be selfish asking him to put you first. you did still have a year and half until you’d be heading to california (hopefully). your counselor told you that you’d totally be getting into berkley if you kept your grades and extracurriculars as you had so far. eddie could tell you weren’t reading anymore, your eyes on the same page they’d been for a few minutes.

“everything okay, princess?” he said softly, rubbing circles on your back.

“can i ask you something?” you asked shyly, sitting up so your body faced eddie’s.

“of course, you can ask me anything,” he looked at you, nerves running through his body.

“you don’t have to answer right now or say yes, i just- um. i don’t know why this is so hard to ask,” you sigh and put your face in your hands. you were so scared of rejection.

“will you move to california with me when we graduate?” you couldn’t look at him, your cheeks heating up.

eddie’s heart leaped in his chest. his soulmate asked him to move with her when they finish at hawkins and he couldn’t be more thrilled. he pulled your body into his, making you yelp. he chuckled and watched as you huffed and rolled your eyes. he took your hand in his.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he fake pouted.

“i want nothing more than to go with you to california when we graduate,” he smiled.

“but your band and your dreams… i don’t want to stop you from accomplishing all of it. your music is great and you deserve to shine,” you whispered, your eyes meeting his. you continued to play with his fingers.

“baby, you will always come first. you don’t need to worry about that. i can’t wait to get out of this shitty town with you. we’ll get a cute little place and a cat like you’ve always wanted and i can still play my music. you’ll go to berkeley and i’ll be there supporting you every step of the way. i promise.” you were practically crying at this point.

“hey, don’t go soft on me now,” he laughed softly, caressing your cheeks.

you mumbled a small sorry and were met with a soft kiss. eddie’s lips molded with yours perfectly. you could kiss eddie forever if you didn’t need to breathe. you loved that he tasted faintly of nicotine and weed. you loved how gentle his kisses were. you felt so loved with eddie.

he thought about the fight that led to the break up. if he could rewind time and take it all back he would. he would’ve told you about what happened in that week he and chrissy had gotten close. he would’ve told you that he did love you, that you were it for him. he wouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself that night. he would’ve done everything to get you back and he hated himself for not realizing sooner.

truthfully, it took chrissy telling him they weren’t compatible for him to realize how badly he fucked up. he realized that you weren’t wrong when you pointed out how he complimented chrissy and not you, how he had cancelled everything with you to be with chrissy, taking chrissy to your spot, and how he detached himself from you. you were right that he had stopped touching you, kissing you and telling you he loved you. he knew all the death stares from nancy and robin were deserved, that the boys being awkward around him was because of how shitty he was being, that when steve told him if he ever came back into family video he’d leave with two black eyes and a busted lip that it was deserved.

he waited until the day you were leaving to go talk to you. maybe if he pleaded for you to stay that you wouldn’t go. maybe then he’d get to kiss you again, he really missed how your lips tasted like honey and vanilla. maybe if he told you he was still in love with you that you’d come back to him. maybe he’d get to go to michigan with you, or maybe he’d convince you to run to california with him like you talked about before. maybe.

you were closing your car’s trunk when you heard eddie clear his throat. your heart felt heavy and you were already emotional from saying goodbye to everyone. it took everything in you to turn around and face him. when you turned, you wanted to disappear. he was looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time in so long. you had stared at him infinite times during the time you’d been broken up and he never returned a look, but today he did. he was wearing his usual reebok’s, ripped jeans, black sabbath shirt and denim vest outfit. his hair had gotten a little longer. his brown eyes were staring straight into yours. you hated to admit how beautiful he still was. your heart was racing and the silence was awkward.

“hi,” he breathed.

“hi,” you said softly.

“please don’t go,” he took a step closer to you.

“you don’t get to say that to me. not after everything.” you said harshly, and he deserved it.

“if i could take it all back, i would. i swear. i wanted to come talk to you sooner, but i- i didn’t know what to say, what i could say to make this all better.” he rambled.

“you can’t make it better, eddie. please don’t try. please let me leave without my heart breaking again.” you croaked. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. what a fucking joke this was, him thinking he could apologize.

“i’m sorry, i really am. you gotta believe me, sweetheart,” he pleaded. the pet name made you flinch. you hadn’t been called so in months, it was so unfamiliar.

“i was an asshole. i shouldn’t have detached like that. i shouldn’t have let you walk home alone crying. i shouldn’t have treated her like i should’ve treated you. i miss you, i really do. i miss the smell of your coffee in the morning. i miss seeing you at the bar for our shows. i miss our movie nights. i miss laying in bed with you while we listen to tapes. i miss watching you read on my bed.”

your heart was nearly going to explode. you felt angry, betrayed, hurt and annoyed. how dare he waltz back and try to beg for you after all that time, after everything he put you through? you were sobbing at this point. he tried to wrap his arms around you and was not shocked when you pushed him away.

“don’t touch me.” the irony. you wanted him to touch you for so long and now that he wanted to, you couldn’t let him.

“don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing? but don't tell me you're sorry, feel sorry for yourself because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else. they'll think that i am so exciting. and you'll be the one who's crying.” you mustered up the courage to defend yourself.

“you didn’t stop me when i told you i wasn’t enough for you. you left me crying and made me think that i did something wrong. you— you broke me. robin had to pick me up piece by piece. you left me for the girl you knew i was insecure about how i couldn’t be as great as.” you scoffed.

“and now you want to come back after seven fucking months? and what, expect me to fall back into your arms? am i that much of a joke to you?” you saw he was crying himself and you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt or pity.

“all i ever wanted was to be enough for you… you were it for me eddie. we were supposed to go to california together. this is all on you.” you jabbed your finger into his chest. “i hope you feel as much pain that i did. i hope you feel like a failure. i hope you feel like the world is crumbling under you. you don’t get to discard me and get me back because chrissy dumped you.” your voice was strong.

“the freak didn’t even want me, i must’ve been a huge fucking loser, right? that’s what the basketball team said. but you didn’t have an ounce of dignity to defend me. no. no, you let chrissy replace me.” your voice starting to raise.

he didn’t even try to defend himself, he deserved everything you were saying. he knew you were right. he didn’t defend you when the basketball team made comments about you. he just left you to fend for yourself. he let chrissy take your place at the table, in the woods, in his life. he can’t tell you why he did what he did. he can’t defend his actions. his chest was so heavy, his cheeks wet with tears. he saw how angry and hurt you were. he wasn’t lying when he said he would take it all back if he could. he’d give anything to see you at another corroded coffin show cheering him on. he’d give anything to be on his couch, your legs on his as you watch horror movies. he’d give anything to have another hellfire session with you at his side. he’d give anything to make you love him again.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated like a broken record.

“save your sorries because i don’t want them.” you wipe your cheeks. “i hate you, i really do.” you nearly whispered.

you turned on your heels and walked to the driver’s side door. you heard eddie’s footsteps retreat out of your driveway. you refused to look at him as you started your car and backed out, ready to drive to michigan for your fresh start. eddie watched you with blurry eyes. he hated himself for what he did. he hated that you hated him. he watched as your car started to go down the street, seeing how you didn’t look back to see him one final time. he couldn’t stop crying and was sure he looked pathetic. pathetic because he was standing in the driveway of his ex girlfriend who he screwed over big time, watching her leave to start over and have a life that could blossom without him holding her down.

you passed the “leaving hawkins” sign and felt relief. you had a ways to go until you got to michigan but at least you were out of the town that was suffocating you. of course you’d keep in touch with your friends and family, they were also told they could come to you whenever they wanted, an offer they very much would be taking up. you had stopped crying, your cheeks were puffy. you told yourself that eddie munson doesn’t get to break you anymore. you told him off, picked yourself up and made the decision to put you first. eddie munson was a fool for what he did to you, you vowed to waste no more tears on him. he didn’t deserve your tears. he didn’t deserve to have you in his arms again. he didn’t deserve to hold you down anymore. he didn’t deserve your love, your care, your smiles.. he didn’t deserve you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x angst #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #corroded coffin #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson sad #eddie munson x sour

[sunflowerreid]

To the moon and back - S.R

Insecure reader confronts an insecure Spencer

Warnings : Sub Spencer, Dom reader, Insecure Spencer, Handjob, Praise kink, swearing

1461 days. That’s how many days you’ve known Spencer, 1461. 730 of those wonderful days have been spent wrapped within his embrace and they’ve been the best days of your life. Everyday you get to see his bright smile, whether he’s reading quietly on the sofa with you sat in between his legs, gently holding your hand as you walk to work or babbling on about the latest sci-fi movie. You love him. You love him so much it hurts. The one and only issue with your relationship seems to be one sided; you’ve never had sex. Sure he’s eaten you out before, multiple times, and he seems to enjoy it, but when it comes to you returning the favour he backs away and returns to his shy self, running off to the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up. You’ve pushed the subject aside for a long time thinking it was just nerves, that he’ll come around sooner or later but that was months ago. What was wrong? It couldn’t of been you could it, what if he just didn’t want you to touch him? What if he was turned off by you and was too nice to say anything about it? Your insecurities are suddenly making an appearance once again, stretch marks on your thighs, a chest on the slightly smaller side, hair on your arms and so many more. You couldn’t go on like this, you had to confront him about this.

-two days later-

“Fuck Spence, god you’re so good fuck” you moaned as he sucked on your clit, tongue tracing circles around you. Your hands tangled themselves into his hair slightly pushing his head down further, deeper. “Fuck that’s it baby, nearly there” your eyes began to roll back as he moaned, one hand gripping his hair while the other searched around desperately for anything to grab onto, settling for the once clean sheets that melted around you. “Fuck yes Spencer yes fuck that’s it yes baby yes” you screamed as stars began dancing in front of your eyes, glistening on the ceiling before they began to dim as your vision cleared up and you came down from your high. Spencer was still on his knees, hands tucked comfortably underneath your thighs as his head rested gently on your right one. You came back to reality, hand still tangled within his fluffy hair as you pulled him up towards you for a kiss. “Thank you sweetie, the best boy I could ever have” you whispered in his ear as you both pulled away.

“Your welcome baby, never have to thank me” he mumbled, his head pressed into the side of your neck as he blushed. “My best boy”, your hand in his hair tightened slightly as your other hand gently touched his cheek, slowly sliding down towards his chest. You knew you had an effect on him, you could feel it pressing into your lower leg. he kept quiet, his breathing quickening just enough for you to notice. Your hand dropped down lower, reaching the waist band of his trousers and just as you thought he might want to go further he gasped. Quickly detangling himself from you he gave you a kiss on the cheek before running into the bathroom.

Now you respect Spencer, you wouldn’t dream of doing anything that might make him uncomfortable and if he wanted you to stop you would do so immediately but this was getting upsetting now, were you really that repulsive? You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t let your overthinking haunt you once again.

Spencer came back out quite quickly, eager to help you clean up so you could go to sleep, he knows you always get sleepy after you have an orgasm. As he drops to his knees with a warm wet flannel you finally gain up enough courage to ask him what had been bothering you, “Is it me baby? Do I make you uncomfortable?”. The look on Spencer’s face can only be described as horrified, how could he of been so stupid to let you think there was something wrong with you. “What!? No of course not you’re absolutely perfect” he said unaware his actions had caused you so much doubt and insecurities about yourself. “Why do you never let me touch you baby? Are you not ready, it’s okay if you don’t want to do anything, I just want to make you feel good.” Spencer looked away from you, dropping his head down to look at the floor, “I’d love nothing more than to have sex with you baby, it would be a absolute dream.” He sighed before shyly whispering “What if I’m not good enough, what if I mess up or cum too quickly and you don’t enjoy yourself”, “Oh baby, I’d enjoy myself either way, I love you so much Spencer”, you gently placed your hand under his chin as you lifted his head to look into his eyes, “I don’t care if you cum quickly or even put your fingers in the wrong place, I just want you to feel good Spence.”

His eyes had glistened over, tears beginning to form in the corners “y/n, I love you so much, please baby ”, he grabbed your face pulling you in for a passionate kiss as your hands began to wander once again, trailing down from his face all the way to the waistband of his trousers. You could feel his excitement pressed up against you as he leaned into your touch. You pulled away, allowing him to stand up and sit back down onto the bed, him taking your previous position as you lowered yourself down onto your knees. His breathing quickened, palms beginning to sweat as you placed your hands carefully on his thighs. “Are you sure you’re ready Spence?” You asked him gently, wanting to make sure he was completely okay with what was happening.

Spencer gasped quietly as your hands began to rub up and down his thighs, too focused on the reassuring sensation of your calming actions contradicted by the constant throbbing within his trousers to even think of answering your question. “Spence?”, “Yes baby, please, please do something”. His erection was obvious, tenting his trousers as he twitched and whined, your hands continuing to tease up and down his thighs before you started to feel bad for the boy squirming beneath you. “Fuck god yes baby, please more please” he whined as you began to palm him, his dick twitching painfully underneath your hand. You couldn’t handle it anymore, taking your hand off his dick as you unzipped his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles before tugging down his underwear, taking note of the wet patch spread around where his tip had rested.

His dick slapped up against his stomach, bright red and leaking precum. “Please baby, please more, more” Spencer whined, you took him into your palm sliding it down slightly before pulling it back up towards his tip slowly pumping him, watching as a drop of precum oozed out of his slit, dripping down your wrist. “So good for me baby” you whispered as your hand began to speed up “Fuck yes, yes thank you baby thank you” Spencer moaned as he threw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head “Feel good baby?”, “Yes so good, fucking amazing please keep going, please more, need more” Spencer whined, moaning softly as he rutted into your palm, hips humping up and chasing the pleasure. “m’your good boy right baby?” Spencer asked desperately as your thumb slid over his tip. “Yes sweetheart, my best boy doing so good for me”. Spencer moaned loudly, his hips becoming erratic as a steady stream of precum began running down your wrist. “M’gonna… baby please m’so close please yes nearly there” you slid your other hand down to gently cradle his balls as the other sped up on his dick, slicked up by his precum creating a smooth glide of your palm. “Fuck m’gonna.. baby please can I cum? Please I don’t think I can hold it any longer” he strained, holding back his orgasm for as long as possible, wanting this moment to last. “Such a good boy for me baby, cum for me sweetheart, please”. “Fuck yes m’there baby I’m there, gonna cum, m’so close, yes, yes” Spencer babbled as he flung his head back, toes curling into the carpet, hands tightening desperately clutching the sheets, abs tensing as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell off the edge. “Fuck yes, god yes thank you” he moaned loudly gasping for air as he came, string after string of warm cum coating your hand, wrist and his stomach, “fuucck” he whispered, catching his breath.

You gave him a quick reassuring squeeze on his thigh as you stood up to get a wet flannel to clean him up, you wiped him down, the sight before you engraved permanently into your head, he looked so peaceful, so relaxed. “Y/n”, “yes baby?”, “Need you, please” he muttered, voice muffled by the covers, “Alright baby, I’ll be right back okay sweetheart.” You placed the flannel by the sink ready to be washed later before climbing back into bed with a very sleepy Spencer, his head immediately rested on top of your chest, directly above your heart. “Love you so much y/n” he drowsily muttered as his eyes shut. “I love you to the moon and back Spence” you whispered back to the now sleeping boy resting in your arms.

Send requests :)) <3 https://www.tumblr.com/sunflowerreid/718926738883756032/worth-the-wait-sr

#sub!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds

[bsaka7]

return to pierresteban

“I beat you,” Pierre says and the words fall hard from his mouth, like pebbles dropping into the smooth surface of a pond. The ripples go out in a circle, each their own tiny wave of energy, of life. They lap against the shore, uneven. The grass waves, gentle. He’s fighting, against Esteban, against time, against nothing. He’s not trying to be mean about it, maybe, or maybe he is. He did. He shouldn’t have. He did.

“And how many DNFs did you have?” Esteban doesn’t ask it as a question, not really. It isn’t a question. He knows the answer. It was one. He says it in that kind of flippant way where it’s true, too true not to feel like a knife, but not important enough to twist it. He knows how it went, for him, for Esteban. They can blame the car. They can blame each other.

Pierre doesn’t bother to answer. Esteban doesn’t bother to look at him. The lung virus, the mechanical issues, the crash with Pierre, with the wall, in the first lap, whatever. The season is over. It doesn’t matter anymore. Esteban is four points behind Pierre in the standings, the only four points that matter in the history books. Esteban will remember every race. He will remember the way his stomach heaved and his vision blurred. He will remember Pierre, stupid and shiny, the flick of his tongue. He already remembers Pierre, tiny and bright and angry. He didn’t miss him. He doesn’t.

“Right,” Esteban says, quiet. He’s not being mean. There’s no point to it right now, though the urge wells up inside of him, sharp at the thought. He can feel Pierre’s gaze on his cheek, his neck, slipping away, the heat of it. It was a good season, wasn’t it. The car wasn’t great, but they scored points. They both got podiums. Esteban got sick, Esteban got tired. He broke up with his girlfriend or his girlfriend broke up with him. He and Pierre aren’t friends. They couldn’t be.

“Right.” Esteban’s eyes snap to him like magnets. Pierre looks skinny, wrung out, scruffy. Handsome, maybe, if that were a word Esteban could use. Ready for the offseason. Esteban is ready to see his family, for Mick to come visit, to sink into the couch and watch stupid movies and not think about how the end is nearer than the start. There’s no end to Pierre. Esteban only half-remembers the start.

A banging noise in the distance breaks the silence. “See you after the break,” Pierre says. It shouldn’t be an offering. It should taste like ash in Esteban’s mouth, like pondwater, like scum. Esteban imagines he can hear the hum of the lights.

“See you,” he says, instead of opening his mouth wide and saying something he shouldn’t, tight and frustrated and tired. Pierre turns away. Pierre’s right. He won. Esteban thinks they’re getting too old for this. His knees have started hurting when he climbs out of the car, not stopping for hours. He’s getting too old, if all he’s going to do is lose, make excuses. Pierre quirks an eyebrow. Esteban shakes his head. One more year, he thinks. One more year.

#Rpf mention #Remembered this is my blog so I can post what I want #I'll probably delete later but u can rb or whatever idc

[mad-who-ra]

All The Love We Lost

Ram Charan x Reader

Angst ending with fluff. It was @rishi-sita 's prompt. Blame her issues for the angst. She wanted to cry, so, i hope this makes you cry, Sita.

Rishita’s song rec:

This goes without saying, but obviously no disrespect to his wife

Word count : 1677

...

“No, I am not doing this.” 

“But, Y/N, this is an impo-”

“I am not doing any interviews, Prerna.” I told my publicist, to which she responded with a quick okay and hung up. I sunk deeper into the couch, mindlessly going through the channels on the tv. I switched off my phone, throwing it to a side. No more calls for today. No more tweets or emails or texts about how good the song is doing. I wanted to hear nothing about it.

I settled on some random movie. The talk of the song kept echoing in my head.

Is the song about him?

Of course it is about Charan. Listen to the lyrics.

Y/N is not doing as great as we thought. Her latest song is the proof.

I shook my head, trying to block my thoughts. But his face kept flashing in front of my eyes. It was over. It was my past. He never loved me. It was all a PR stunt. He lied to me for months. He sweet talked me into believing that he really like me. That he really cared. When all of it was an orchestrated drama.

If I hadn’t seen the message from his publicist flashing on his phone, saying “It’s done. You can break things off with Y/N now.” I would have never guessed that it was all an act. He really was a very good actor, wasn’t he? Of course he needed some damage control after his last failed relationship. He needed someone to show his caring side to the world again after the ugly drama. Of course I was the perfect target.

I wondered if he was ever gonna tell me. Maybe he would have waited till I was so completely drowned. Till the point where I could barely breath without him to tell me the truth. Maybe he thought it was all very fun. A stupid poet falling for him. Maybe it was amusing to string my heart along and see how far I would go.  

Tears slid down my cheeks hot and raw as I clutched the tv remote in my fist a bit too tightly. Months after the breakup, and I was still here. I was still bitter and I still loved him. It was not really a breakup. I had packed my things wordlessly, leaving a note asking him to check his messages and left. 

I went to my grandmother’s place for a while. Stayed there, away from all the chaos unfolding in the city. Changed my number. But forgetting him was difficult, to say the least. I hated him but more than that, I hated myself for loving him. And to get that out of my system, I wrote the song. And it just caught eyes. I did not expect it to be famous. But because of the drama with him or the raw emotions in it, it was. And there was nothing I could do about it. I came back into the city just a day before, that too because Prerna showed up at my place and dragged me back. My pity party was interrupted by the door bell ringing. No one knew I was back in the city. So I just stayed at my place on the couch, waiting for the person to go away. I turned the volume of the movie own, hoping they would get the hint that no one was in the house. But the doorbell rang again. And again. Realising the person won’t go away, I walked to the door cursing them in my mind.

“What?” I asked, “If someone doesn’t open the door the first two times you ring, maybe go the hell away-” I said, opening the door. By the time I finished the sentence, my eyes met the brown ones I had written poems about. 

Poems that he mostly made fun of with his friends. 

Without thinking for another moment, I pushed the door in the reverse direction just as fast. But before I could slam it on his stupid face, he held the door. And being definitely stronger than me, he pushed it open and I couldn’t do anything. I kept trying.

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me once.” He said. Something in his voice made me stop. I looked at his face. He looked desperate. Or maybe I was projecting my emotions onto him again. Won’t be the first time. I did think he loved me. But that was me, looking at the reflection of my own adoration for him. I won’t be fooled. Not again. 

“There is nothing left.” I said, “Go away.”

“Y/N, please.” He begged again, “Please I have been trying to get in touch with you for so long, please, give me five minutes. Please just listen to me once, and then if you want, I will leave without another word. You won’t have to see me again.”

I considered his words. What did I have to loose? What was left of my heart to break anymore, anyway?

“Five minutes.” I said, letting the door fall open.

“Five minutes.” He nodded.

I let him in, only because I did not want the neighbours to bring out their noses and popcorns. I closed the door and the curtains behind me. 

“What?” I asked, turning to him. I looked at him for the first time in the last few months. He looked tired. He had grown his beard. His eyes looked exhausted. I shook my head. I could not trust my own judgement when it came to him.

“I heard the song.” He started.

“Is that why you are here? Need more content to make jokes out of? Am I not pathetic enough for you already?” I asked.

“Y/N, no. You are misunderstanding me.” He shook his head rapidly, “Jaan, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” I snapped. My throat tightened. It hurt to look at him. It hurt to hear his voice.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I want to apologise.” He started.

I scoffed, “A whole lot of good an apology would do.” 

“There was a misunderstanding. I have been trying to tell you that since the day-” 

“The day I saw that message? The day I came to know that I was only a pawn for you to be the public sweetheart again?” 

“I meant to tell you-”

“When, Charan, when were you going to tell me?” 

He reached out to hold me, and I took a step back, holding my hand out to stop him. I saw hurt flashing in his eyes as he fisted his fingers, letting his hand fall to his side helplessly.

“You should leave.” I said.

“Do you love me?” He asked.

I looked at him in disbelief.

“How can you even ask that? How dare you ask that?” 

“Y/N, please.”

“Stop! You have always had everything your way. I am not answerable to you, anymore. You have no right. And guess what, you cannot solve this with all the money that you have.” That was a low blow, and I knew that. Stereotyping him in a privileged princely way was a low blow.

Hurt flashed in his eyes. This time I knew it was real.

“You faced a problem in a relationship and what do you do? Run away? Does running away solve your problems, Y/N? Does being a coward help?” He snapped back. He knew how to push my buttons. We both knew that very well.

“It wasn’t a relationship. That was the problem. It was an act. Screw anyone who says you can’t act, by the way. You had me believing it was real.” I spat back, as a fresh batch of tears rolled out of my eyes.

He sighed, taking a step forward. I was so tired that this time, I did not protest when he wrapped his arms around me. Something broke inside me, as he pulled me in his embrace. Clutching his shirt, I started sobbing. He held me tightly for as long as I cried. He whispered comforting words into my ears. It was funny how I sought  comfort in him when he was the one who hurt me to a point of craziness. When I quieted a little, I heard him whisper.

“It wasn’t an act.” He said.

I looked up at him. His eyes were teary.

“It started out as one. But by the end of the first week, I knew I was really in love with you.” He continued.

“What?” I asked.

“It was never an act for me. I do really love you.”

My heart skipped a beat at his confession.

“Why didn’t you-”

“Because you left. You changed your number, your house. Hell, you left the city. Your team won’t tell me where you were. They all were so very mad at me. I tried to- I tried everything to get in touch with you. Everything. But I couldn’t. I came here everyday! And saw the lights on today-”

“Are you serious?” I asked, tears pooling my own eyes.

“Does it look like I am lying?” He asked, “I never lied, Y/N. I have always loved you. I am so sorry. Please believe me. I am so very sorry for all of it. I should have told you long ago but I was scared to loose you. But I lost you anyway, didn’t I?”

I stared at him dumbly, not knowing what to believe.

“Please, give me on more chance. Just one more. Please let me prove how much I love you.” He begged, “please, just once. I promise I won’t ever hurt you again.”

I nodded weakly. Of course I gave in. I loved him too much not to. He wasted no time in pulling me back into him. His chin rested on the top of my head and he kissed my hair repeatedly muttering apologies and thank you’s. From the way his body shook with sobs, with each word, I knew he would keep his promises. 

I donno who to tag so I will copy my rrr taglist here.

@juhiiiiii @manwalaage @maraudersbitchesassemble @gauri-vishalakshi @lil-stark @rambheem-is-real @seherie @how-is-it-in-london @itsfookingloosah @ma-douce-souffrance​ @irisesforyoureyes @cainiyor​ @zaddylokiandthorsimp​ @bromance-minus-the-b​ @kafkaesquebestie @hissterical-nyaan @ramayantika @reallythoughtfulwizard @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @obsessedtoafault @budugu @chaanv @nerdreader @kalavathiii @hxnky-pxnky @shawty-writes-a-little @azraelcruor @rambheemisgoated @aasthuu @vidhurvrika @jeonmahi1864 @jjwolfesworld @yehsahihai @ma-douce-souffrance

@dumdaradumdaradum @eloquentree @tinysmallworlld-deactivated2022 @herefornamu @shreyalokesh @rishi-sita @sukitaee @mathy-u @army24--7 @floating-mushroom @nyotamalfoy @saanjh-sakhi @sabi5 @theclumsypanda

#ram charan #ram charan x reader #rrr #Spotify

[writingsofmax]

Disarm pt. 8

Words: 3, 247

Story Summary: Edward and Y/N spend more time together as couple, fluff ensues. Edward gets angry at Y/N's apartment issues and comes up with ideas to help.

Tags: slowburn, chronically ill reader, anti-social Edward, canon-typical violence, obsessive thinking, kissing, biting, smut, domestic fluff

warnings: there is some mild smut at the end of this chapter SO if you're not into it don't read past the last breaklineeeee, kissing, biting, marking?? heavy making out...... welcome to my shame corner lol

Chapter 8- Despite All My Rage I'm Still Just A Rat In A Cage

Edward had been a loner before. In the orphanage it was easier to not connect with people at all, so he hadn’t. Once he was out and in college, it's not that he wanted to be alone––it was just that other people didn’t click well with him. He had conversations with others occasionally, tried to pursue some friendships but it had never worked out. Everyone was too stupid. None of them had understood him or his sense of humor. Everything about making friends was agitating and difficult. My coworkers especially, Edward thought with a sneer. 

That didn’t stop Edward from feeling lonely though. It wasn’t until Y/N came into his life that he realized how lonely he had truly been. God, he had been so lonely. Edward thought while gently brushing his fingers up and down Y/N’s arm. 

“I’ve never heard of a gyroscopic stabilizer until now,” Y/N mentioned, watching the TV.  

“They’re used in ships so unless you’re involved in engineering large watercraft, it makes sense that you don’t know what it is,” Edward responded, adjusting the blankets over both of them on the couch. 

“Hmm. But you know what they are,” Y/N mused. “You’re so smart Eddie.” She snuggled in closer under Edward’s arm with a little yawn. 

Edward’s face felt hot, and he picked lint off the blanket with a shy smile. 

“How It’s Made” was one of Edward’s favorite TV shows. Seeing how things were put together and taken apart was always so interesting to him. He didn’t watch TV very often, but this show could always hold his attention for the full 30 minutes it was on. 

However, it didn’t seem that it was holding Y/N’s attention. During the commercial break, he picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. 

“Hey, weren’t you watching that, Eddie?” Y/N questioned. 

“I’ve already seen this one before,” Edward responded, a small lie, before settling on Planet Earth. It was an episode about freshwater ecosystems so there was a good chance that it would feature otters.

Y/N gave a small gasp and squeezed his arm lightly. “I LOVE this show, it’s so cool!” she gushed. “They get such amazing footage of the animals too, it’s unbelievable.” 

Edward gazed upon her fondly and tried not to think too much about how good it felt to have her in his arms. This was how their nights had been going for a little while now. 

Either Y/N would come to his house or he would go to her house to watch TV or a movie together. She hadn’t been up for going on as many walks lately since the cold and damp of fall in Gotham made her illness flare. That was fine with Edward though, he was perfectly content to watch over her indoors and do more relaxing activities. Normally, Edward needed a lot of alone time, but lately it was like he couldn’t get enough of Y/N.

For the last two days, she had even been spending the night. It was all very new for Edward but it was so much better than how his life had been before. He had someone to protect, and someone that finally understood him. Those facts alone made it easier to get used to. It was a little unnerving having someone be so close to him after being alone for so long, and all of the physical touch after not having any for years was overwhelming sometimes. 

Another thing Edward had noticed fairly quickly was that having someone around him a lot of the time meant that he had to change his routines and his habits and that was… difficult. Hiding all of his Riddler things from her on a regular basis was tricky as well but it was worth it.  Over his life, he had learned to do everything alone and also liked to do everything a certain way. His way. The right way. But Y/N understood. They were a perfect match, Edward thought. 

“You look sleepy,” Edward murmured into Y/N’s hair after the episode was over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Yeah...” Y/N stretched. “Will you come lay down with me?” 

“Of course,” Edward responded, immediately. 

“Carry meee,” Y/N whined, slowly getting up off the couch. 

Without a second thought Edward scooped her up, eliciting a yelp from Y/N. 

“E-Eddie I was joking, you don’t actually have to carry me!” She blushed and Edward smirked. 

“But I already have you, so there’s no point in putting you down. Besides, what’s the last thing you take off before bed anyway?” Edward giggled to himself while carrying her towards the bedroom. “You take your feet off the floor.”

Setting her down gently on the bed, Edward kissed the tip of her nose. “There.” 

“Thank you for that Eddie,” Y/N laughed. “But I need to take my meds,” she said as she got up off the bed. 

Edward watched her as she got up and took her overnight bag to the bathroom with her. She’s so beautiful. He was going to be with her no matter the growing pains. 

Coming back from the bathroom, Y/N turned off the lights and laid on the bed next to Edward. 

“Thanks for letting me stay here, Eddie. I’ve been too freaked out to sleep in my own apartment lately.” 

Edward tilted his head. “Freaked out?” 

His eyes narrowed. Is someone harassing her? Is her apartment too dangerous? It’s probably one of those thugs that hang out in Robinson Park, looking through her windows, following her…  If I went there at night, just out of the streetlights I could easily find them and––

“Oh! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!” Y/N exclaimed. “Two days ago I saw a rat in my kitchen.” She shook her head with a shiver, making a disgusted face. 

“I thought that I had heard chewing a couple times before,” she continued, “but I wasn’t sure—but then I saw him.” 

“Did you try to trap it?” Edward asked, carefully hiding his trembling hands in the blankets. 

“I think there might be more than one so I called my landlord to hire an exterminator but he’s fighting me on it.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “I just haven’t been able to sleep as well there because I think about them crawling around.” 

“Your landlord is fighting you about it? That’s his job is to keep your apartment livable. He can’t just not do it. Rats carry disease. And they multiply like crazy if you don’t take care of it immediately,” Edward ranted. “Do you want me to go over there? I can try to trap them. Or poison them.” 

Rats had been a huge problem at the orphanage growing up. Disgusting. Always crawling on you at night, biting at your fingers. The unlucky kids had gotten terrible infections. Y/N reached out to Edward and took his hand, pulling him towards her on the bed. “It’s fine! We can get traps tomorrow, and I’m gonna keep on him about an exterminator. Don’t worry!” She flopped down on the bed. “Just being able to stay here with you for right now is enough.” “Yeah, we’ll go and get traps tomorrow,” Edward sighed while laying down next to her, thinking about how it wasn’t fine at all.  With a slight shake of his head, he scooted closer to Y/N, carefully pulling the blankets around her, trying to put the rage out of his mind.

“Do you think you’ll be up for much longer?” Y/N asked.

“Probably… I have a hard time getting to sleep.” Edward played with her hair idly. “I also don’t need as much sleep as you do.”

“Hmm... Well, will you stay here with me until I fall asleep?” Y/N sleepily asked.

Y/N, I would kill for you if you asked me to. “Yes, of course,” Edward replied. 

After about an hour, Edward quietly left the room, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him after Y/N had fallen asleep. Walking back out to the living room, he sat at his desk. Rats. He pulled a notebook from above his desk and flipped open to a blank page and began writing. Rats. Rats. Rats. Disgusting filthy creatures, crawling around Y/N’s apartment. Spreading their germs everywhere. Edward shuddered. And to hear from Y/N that her landlord wasn’t even taking care of it! Typical greedy scum… Collecting obscene amounts of rent for their apartments while doing nothing to maintain them. No better than rats themselves. An idea flitted across Edward’s mind. If her landlord was going to act like a rat, then he could be treated like one. Maybe have a little rat poison shoved down his throat. No. Edward shook his head. Y/N is too close to all of this already. Her landlord would be a direct link.  

He had started to regret having Y/N help him compile information on the Renewal Fund, or even telling her about it. When his plan went into action he didn’t want her to be implicated. Killing her landlord would cause her to be even more suspicious to the police for sure. It was a conflicting feeling, hiding so much of himself from Y/N. He wanted so badly to tell her, but he also wanted to keep her safe. And right now he couldn’t even keep her safe from her scummy landlord. Edward was furious. He… No––The Riddler wanted to kill her landlord. Y/N needed to be protected, but that meant keeping the focus off of her. He gritted his teeth, pushing his pen harder into the paper, almost ripping it while continuing to write.

They all had it coming, and maybe in the carnage that was to come in the next few weeks, he could have one of his followers target her landlord in the chaos. Rats. 

He could feel the ghosts of them crawling on him, chewing his fingers. He thought of all the nights he had spent in the orphanage after they had been forgotten about, listening to them scurry around in the dark. Y/N’s words echoed in his head, “You deserved better.” She was right––He had deserved better, they all had. The disgusting Gotham billionaires, the corrupt politicians, the liars and the sinners… They deserved to be chewed on by rats. Edward sat back in his chair. Chewed on… He pushed his glasses up, brow furrowed.  By rats… Edward giggled. Now there’s an idea. He flipped to a new page and began drawing. —-------------------------------

Y/N wearily opened her eyes, looking around in confusion before remembering she was at Edward’s. She rolled over, and stretched, getting comfortable to try to go back to sleep. Stretching her arms out, she realized with a sinking feeling that the opposite side of the bed was still empty. With a glance she checked the glowing red alarm clock above the bed. 3:27 A.M? Where is Eddie?

Slowly getting out of bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes she tried to push away her anxious thoughts to no avail. Did he accidentally get locked out of the apartment somehow? Did he fall and hit his head? Did he... Did he leave me here? She shook her head, padding down the hallway and feeling foolish when she saw a light still on at the end of the hall. Eddie would never leave you. Calm down. Y/N squinted at the light and saw that Edward was seated at his desk, still awake, working intensely on something. “Eddie?” Edward sat up suddenly, closing the notebook he had been writing in, turning around. “Hm? Y/N? What…” He seemed out of it, his green eyes glazed over, “What are you… Um.”  He faltered, pushing  his chair out from the desk. “What are you doing up?” He had ink smeared on his hands and forearms, and his hair was messy and wild. Y/N had noticed that Edward got like this sometimes. She had first noticed it early on when they would talk about the corruption in Gotham. His tone would become so vicious and frantic, and when she looked into his eyes it seemed that he was somewhere far away. That he wasn’t quite there with her completely. 

It happened during other times too, when he would talk about the orphanage, or sometimes when he was writing in his work ledgers. It was like the real Edward retreated, and a more wild version of him would take his place. After these… episodes, it seemed like it usually took him awhile to come back. She had never felt the need to ask him about it or comment on it. She just tried to be there for him as best she could. After hearing about his childhood, she couldn’t imagine the horrors he had witnessed. It didn’t surprise her that he had some struggles with mental health. Y/N tenderly reached out to Edward, closing the distance between them in a hug. “I just woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed yet so I came to check on you.” 

She felt Edward shaking slightly under her touch. “It’s 3 in the morning Eddie, you should come to bed,” she suggested cautiously. Edward shivered and let out a sigh, relaxing slightly. “Didn’t realize it was so early.” He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, let’s go to bed.”

Y/N smiled, looking up at him. Even sleep deprived and messy, he was still so handsome, Y/N thought. 

She gently led him back to the bedroom, “What were you working on?” She asked curiously. “Just work stuff,” Edward responded, pulling back the covers for her to get in.  “They should pay you more for all the extra hours you put in Eddie,” Y/N commented, snuggling down back into the blankets. “They definitely should,” Edward responded sleepily, climbing into the bed after her. “Goodnight, Eddie,” Y/N sighed, kissing him on the cheek before turning away to sleep. Edward wrapped his arms around Y/N and with a strong tug, pulled her back over to him making Y/N giggle. “Good night, Y/N.”

—------------------------------------------

The sun was bright coming through the blinds of Edward’s room. He rubbed his eyes, slowly recognizing the sound of the traffic outside. The sunlight coming through the window and onto the bed was making him too warm under the covers. With a frustrated grunt, he kicked the covers off of him and––Oh. 

Edward was definitely awake now.

Pulling the covers back over… himself, he glanced nervously over at Y/N who was just starting to wake up. “Hey, Eddie,” Y/N mumbled with a tired smile, pulling herself to him. Edward stiffened and could feel his face getting hot. “G-Good morning, Y/N!” Edward replied a bit too loudly, scratching his neck. “Did you sleep well?”  “Mmmhmmm,” Y/N sighed, sitting up and kissing Edward softly. Edward internally groaned, feeling the heat rush to his cock. He started to pull away, planning to get up and hop in the shower before she could notice, but then Y/N pulled him back into the kiss, deepening it. Before Edward could fully react, Y/N straddled him, sitting on top of him as she kissed him. 

He groaned, feeling his cock pressed against Y/N, the friction setting him on fire. 

Oh no. Is this too far? He didn’t want to make Y/N uncomfortable and really wasn’t sure what to do, having never been in this situation before. 

He was contemplating pushing her off and profusely apologizing when he heard Y/N moan. Y/N was actually moaning from the feeling of him against her. Edward cautiously shifted his hips under her, pushing himself up between her legs, watching her reaction closely. This action elicited another moan from Y/N. 

Edward felt pride wash over him. He couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of power that Y/N’s moans gave him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down on top of him, moving his attentions to her neck. Y/N is mine. Only I can make her feel like this. He bit down, gently at first, sucking and pulling at the skin with his teeth. He felt Y/N’s breath hitch before she let out a needy whine.

He smiled and in a quick movement, pulled her off him and then carefully adjusted his position so Y/N was underneath him now, her face hot and red. He loved the way she looked and loved even more that it was because of him. He grinded against her more roughly this time, the friction driving him insane.  She clutched at his back tightly, moaning softly with each thrust, Edward kissing her deeply on the lips. God, I  love her so much. He thought, before moving back to her neck, biting roughly this time, making sure to leave marks. Y/N is mine and only mine. Y/N moaned loudly, her hands gripping the back of his shirt tightly. “Ed-Eddie,” she gasped. Edward stopped, pushing himself up to look down at her properly, “Y-Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless himself. Oh no. I went too far, shit. Is she okay?

“Am––Am I being too loud?” Y/N blushed deeply, looking away from him. “I’m sorry if I’m being too loud.” Edward looked down at her for a beat, giving his brain a moment to catch up. “What? Too loud?” He giggled at the absurdity of her apologizing, “That’s ridiculous.” He loved her noises. “Are, um...” Edward started, suddenly feeling awkward. “Are you okay?” Y/N giggled. “Oh, I’m definitely okay,” she answered. Edward smirked. “You sounded okay,” he teased, leaning down and kissing her neck once more. This touching stuff was great. He desperately wanted to explore and investigate all of it more thoroughly, he thought, moving down her neck. He was interrupted by a loud growl from Y/N’s stomach. 

Y/N gave an embarrassed laugh and held her face in her hands. “I am kind of hungry though…” She peeked at Edward through her fingers. “I’m so sorry!” she gushed. Edward giggled and rolled off of her, sitting up on the side of the bed. “Well, I guess I should go get you some breakfast then!”  Yes, he had wanted to continue. Obviously. But Y/N came first––He was her protector after all.

“Is it okay if I shower quickly first?” Edward asked nonchalantly. “Before I head to the diner?”

Y/N slowly started getting up as well. “Of course!”

Okay, good. He could take care of… his needs before heading out. That was something he was used to doing.

“Okay, baby, think of what you want and I’ll get your order before I go.” Edward froze when he realized what he had said and winced internally. Baby? Where did that come from?

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes and then smiled warmly. “I will.”

Edward just nodded, his face warm, and then headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stood there for a minute, just composing himself. Looking in the mirror he ruffled his hands through his hair, thinking about all that just transpired and had to bite back excited laughter.

He never knew that his life could be so perfect. Previous Next

#riddler smut #dano!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #the riddler #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #riddler x you #riddler fluff #riddler fanfic #edward nashton fanfiction #edward nashton #edward nashton x y/n #edward nashton fluff #paul dano

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

When I was in high school, I was affectionately given the nickname “loose cannon” by my friends/teammates. The nickname stuck for years; my best friend gave me a pen engraved with the words “loose cannon” for my 27th birthday. I wore it proudly, I like being the loose cannon. Sometimes the world needs a loose cannon. But also, being a loose cannon is tiring and sometimes a genuinely bad idea.

I was given this nickname as a teenager, when my team was taken over by a coach who was an abusive asshole in many ways, and one of those ways involved sexism. Throughout my first few years in the sport – 2004 to 2010 or so – I went between being the only girl on my coed team, and one of two or three girls. The number of girls in the sport increased significantly about ten years ago, and now it’s still not 50/50, but hovers around 65/45, which is a massive improvement. But not when I was that age.

When I was that age, high school and early university, I was hanging out with my male teammates, struggling through practice and then hanging out afterward to complain about how much we hated our horrible abusive sexist coach. Think the villains in Karate Kid/Cobra Kai, or perhaps Mighty Ducks. Sports movies with cartoonish villains are often less of an exaggeration than one might expect.

We all did different things to rebel against him. Subtle things, mostly, because we were young and had no power and none of us would have been there if he had anything besides this sport in our lives, that would mean we could risk getting kicked off the team. Mainly, we complained about him to each other in cars parked in lots on the way home from practice.

I was the first one to decide I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had a huge issue with my coach when I was sixteen years old, involving his treatment of the girls, and first I conducted this feud through vaguely passive-aggressive emails. I read through every single page of the provincial and national code of ethics and code of conduct, and highlighted all the parts he was breaking, because I thought if I just did enough homework and knew enough about what I was talking about then I could win. But he didn’t care. No one actually cares if you do bother to know what you’re talking about. I remember sitting in practice, seething, listening to him tell us how girls were different from boys, digging fingernails into my hands to stop myself from saying anything.

One day after practice, I got into an argument, and I lost it on him. I mean – I remember it as me losing it. I didn’t, really. I never yelled or swore or anything. He yelled. I remember him yelling. I remember me not yelling. But I did tell him what I thought of him, for the first time. I accused him of being the reason my one female teammate had left, moved across the country to a bigger team that was supposed to be really good for girls (since then, the coach of that team has lost his job over sexual abuse of female athletes, after ten years of allegations that didn’t lead to him losing his job until some finally brought enough legal pressure to force his employers’ hands, so, you know, nothing is good anywhere). I told him the methods he was bringing in weren’t okay, none of the athletes were happy, I hated the way he treated me differently from the boys but also those boys were my teammates and I hated the way he treated us all. It was the first time any of us had ever gone off on him this way.

Obviously, it didn’t help. I was ostracized from the team for a long time, he took his anger out on all of us for weeks, nothing got better but things got a little worse. It was a stupid thing to do. I think that incident is actually the first thing that got me nicknamed “loose cannon”. The way my teammates and I saw it, we were in a tactical war against this guy, trying to beat him by legitimate means. And I had just gone off because I couldn’t control my anger, and it made us all look bad.

Ever since then, that’s been my role. My best friend and I stuck around until that guy finally left town, went off to run another team seven hours away and terrorize the athletes down there for a few years (before moving again and then finally losing his coaching certification for a number of reasons). So we took over the team, and have been running it ever since. But there are always new people to fight. Always. People who do fucked up things, which always includes sexism. We’re always getting tangled in the politics and the drama, and of the two of us, I’m the one who risks my reputation by doing what I think is right even if it’s stupid and gets me into trouble and fights, while my friend is the acceptable and respectable face of us, making friends and being charismatic. He’s good at that. He can be friendly and polite and likeable and all the things I’m not. While I go out with my anger and then wonder why it never works out the way I want. We make a good team that way – my friend does acknowledge that we need both sides sometimes to get anything done.

But it’s fucking demoralizing, and I can’t emotionally detach myself. I don’t have any mode besides trying really hard and caring a lot about what happens. I have a letter in my file that gets sent to the principal of any school where I try to coach, because in 2013, some high school girls told me the coach from their school was making them mop the mats but not the boys because it’s women’s work, telling the boys not to work with them because it’s a waste of time working with girls, making vaguely creepy comments about their appearances, and at the championships, they wanted me in their corner instead of him. I looked it up, learned that the official championship rules say any coach from our city can corner any athlete from our city and doesn’t need to be from their school, I printed out the page of the rules that said so in case I got challenged and brought it to the tournament. When we got there, I went into their corner against their high school coach’s instructions. He complained about me to the commissioner, I presented the rule page when challenged, I was told that rules or not, he’s their school coach, and it’s “common courtesy” to let him decide who corners them. Because fuck what they want.

I was told this was the discretion of the entire city’s athletic director, who was back home, five hours away, and would not be on my side, but if I wanted to take this farther I could take it to him, but unless I could change his mind I wouldn’t be allowed to corner them anymore. I thought about how I’d promised those girls I’d be there for them and protect them from this guy, so I said yeah, give me the athletic director’s number. I called that guy, whom I’d never met before, and he shut me down immediately. Said no, I was being disrespectful and impolite to a man who had been a stalwart of the sport since before I’d been born (which is true, the sexist coach they hated was about 60 and I was 22 at the time), and then he very literally said the words “If I hear about you going near any athletes from that school for the rest of this week, I will make sure you never coach in this city again.” Like I said, sports movies are often not far off in their levels of drama.

I now have a letter in my file, warning the principals of any school where I try to coach that I have a history of being disrespectful to other coaches so they should be careful about me. It says that in 2013, I told an athletics commissioner “I don’t care about common courtesy.” Which is true – I did say those words. The letter on covers half the sentence, though. The entire thing I said was “I don’t care about common courtesy, I care about protected high school girls from sexist assholes.” The letter doesn’t say that. By the way, a few years after all this happened, I learned that it’s been one of those “open secrets” for years that the athletics director who threatened me on the phone routinely offers female teachers promotions in exchange for blowjobs. But sure, I was the one being inappropriate. Do I still hold a grudge over some shit that happened in 2013? Yeah, maybe.

That’s what I do, though. It’s a running joke among my friends that I can hold a grudge forever. That I get angry about things and never let them go. That I can’t just let shit go, fucking loose cannon. And it’s exhausting. It’s exhausting being this angry all the time. I had a complete breakdown in 2019, when I resigned from a provincial board spot I’d worked so hard for, because I found out fellow members of the board had spent their own money to legally protect another known predator in the sport, and I couldn’t think of any way to protest except to resign, and of course that didn’t do anything, but being on the board didn’t do anything either, nothing ever does anything, and I got so fucking tired of being so angry all the time that I could barely get out of bed in the morning.

Today, my team look unimaginably different than it did when I was a teenager. We have something close to gender parity, or we did pre-COVID. The ratio has titled away from the female athletes, as they came back in smaller numbers post-lockdowns, but we’re growing it again. There’s one guy really getting in the way right now, though. He’s been coming into practice late, which sounds like not that big a deal, and often isn’t when most people do, but it’s the way he does it. He does it on purpose, to make the point that he’s above all this. He doesn’t listen to anyone, but makes a special point of not listening to the female coaches at all. He won’t work with the girls because it’s a waste of time, apparently. He’s been heard spouting toxic shit in the change rooms. We had problems with him at tournaments, showboating during and after matches, making out team look bad. We’ve heard from the girls that he’s been saying things to make them uncomfortable. He doesn’t treat them like his teammates anymore.

And we know what it is. We know what it fucking is, it’s always the same thing. It’s the fucking podcasts. We had this same problem last year, and earlier this year, with a different guy, who was also into those podcasts. You know the ones. Joe Rogan and Jordan Peterson are the gateway drugs, the “acceptable” face of it that people get into and then it leads to the ever worse shit. All these male voices telling younger male people (this guy’s 21, the guy from earlier this year was 24, we’ve been seeing lower levels of the problem in lots of boys for the last few years, aged anywhere from 15 to 25) that they’re better than everyone else, they have to go in and establish themselves as the alpha male. The roommate I had up until mid-2023 was into those podcasts, I know because I heard them from his bedroom. So many people are.

We’re going to have to kick him off the fucking team. We asked his best friend, a guy on the team around his age who’s known him since they were young, what he saw happening, if he thinks his friend is too far gone. And he said yeah, the coming to practice late is bad, but what’s worse is he’s become “and Andrew Tate incel”, and we need to get rid of him to avoid letting him spread the ideology to younger athletes more than he already has. His own friend said that. It’s gone too far.

I loved this guy. I have this memory of when he was fifteen, I drove five hours to pick him up for a camp. Because he had no money, and this camp was for kids with money, but he worked hard and we didn’t want him to miss out. So the team paid for his entry, and I drove him home, which his parents couldn’t do because they had six other kids and no money. I drove five hours in the morning, arrive at three PM, picked up him and his two friends, drove five hours back.

When I picked them up, the receptionist wasn’t sure if she could let them go with me, as I did not appear to be the legal guardian of these three large Middle Eastern teenagers. But then they came in, took one look at me, and shouted “Mama” and jumped on me because they hadn’t seen me in a week and had missed me. That’s what they always called me, because they’re first language is Arabic and “Mama” is the Arabic word for Mom. The receptionist saw this and said I can take them. All the way home, we played music and sang along and talked shit about the other teams. It was great.

I have another memory of this kid. When he was maybe seventeen, we picked him up at his house to drive him to a tournament. My best friend dropped me off at a nearby gas station, then went by the kid’s house, picked him up, went back to the gas station and got me. Because if the kid’s dad saw there was a woman on this trip, he wouldn’t let his son go. Because he was a conservative Muslim who believes his son shouldn’t mix with girls.

This kid overcame that! He was raised from birth in a conservative Muslim household, learned not to interact with girls, ignored that, developed a close enough coach/athlete bond with me to call me a name that said I was like a mother to him, had years of taking my advice in the sport, and being a good teammate to the girls and the boys. He overcame religious-based brainwashing, which is supposed to be the most powerful type of brainwashing. But now, a couple of years of Jordan Peterson-style podcast brainwashing, and it’s turned him into an unrecognizable person. A person we have to get off our team for the sake of everyone.

I can’t fucking tolerate it. You can get by in my sport without doing a bit of “Oh yeah, that guy has some backwards views on women, you know he listens to some of those podcasts, but his heart’s in the right place really, he’s okay.” If you hated every person you could say that about, you wouldn’t be able to tolerate almost anyone in the sport. And the thing is, I’m getting closer and closer to the point where I can’t tolerate almost anyone in the sport. I feel like a teenager again, talking to my male friends, seeing that they’re on the right side but being smart and picking their battles, and I just can’t. I can’t be okay with any of it. I want to say fuck them all. I understand that they’re right, that the people who aren’t loose cannons are right, the people who don’t hold a grudge forever, who can be in a room with these fucking people and not either desperately want to yell at them or actually yell at them, who can compromise and let go of stuff and get along. They’re right. But I’m still angry.

This post was incoherent, and I’m posting it unedited because I can’t bring myself to read this vent/rant back so sorry that it’ll be even more error-ridden than most things on this blog, but there is one overarching message to this post. And that message is, I’m tired of being the only girl and also the only person who can’t ignore this shit.

So, I have to say, if there were a male person who went off on someone for being into Jordan Peterson, to argue with him pointlessly and angrily and in a way that made another man who witnessed it say “What’s wrong with you?”, not because the witnessing man thinks Jordan Peterson is fine, just because he’s a reasonable person who knows that picking fights with people doesn’t help. But he doesn’t care, because he’s too angry about sexism to let shit go. If there were a man who did that, rather than it always being the women’s job to do it, then that man might earn my undying loyalty.

[sweetface1]

How they started dating. This takes place shortly after their meeting. It’s kinda short but I really couldn’t think of much.

After his embarrassment had settled over his “mishap” he was proud to say he quickly became friends with Glen over the next few weeks. As they kept talking he was surprised to find out how close the twins were. It seemed like one was never far from the other. Maybe he doesn’t get it because he’s not a twin. The closest example he probably has is his 12 year old brother. It just never fails to amaze him how much time they can spend together without needing space. He’s sure they’re not perfect. I mean they have to fight and disagree at some point right ? Which leads to his other issue. He’s pretty sure he's now crushing on both of them. He’s screwed. He can’t just pick one over the other. Besides he’s pretty sure they could definitely dispose of his body if it came down to it. He needs to stop panicking and just think. Who would he rather be with? He admires the way Glenda carries themself. They’re so confident and aren’t afraid to speak their mind. Just a day ago they stood up to a woman who refused to acknowledge them correctly and effortlessly shut her down. He wants to be able to do that. They also always have advice for him during rehearsals when he needs it and bring extra snacks to rehearsals for him. On the other hand he likes how soft Glen is in contrast. They have more of a quiet confidence and he appreciates how they're always ready to lend a ear. He also loves how their eyes light up when they talk about their interests.He has to admit sfx makeup is cool. They’re also both hilarious and he honestly wishes he was as good as they are at faking British accents. Okay this isn’t working. He needs a new approach to this. Maybe he should try asking others for advice. No,that’s a horrible idea. They’d probably just reiterate he should pick one and then laugh at him for getting stuck in this situation. Maybe he should just confess to both of them. Rip off the bandaid and see what happens. Yeah that's probably gonna be the best option. Next time he sees them, that's what he’s gonna do. Now Imagine his shock when they ask him out before he gets the chance. Obviously he said yes (he’s not stupid). He just wished he knew it would’ve been that simple from the beginning.

The missing scene from this is Glen and Glenda sitting on their couch watching a movie and turning to each other to be like you wanna both ask Paul out? Yeah. Alright bet next time we see him in person. To then just turn back to the movie they're watching.

#glen ray #glenda ray #seed of chucky #chucky syfy #chucky tv series #chucky tv show #chucky season 2 #tiffany valentine #chucky #chucky series #chucky fanfiction #chucky headcanons #chucky season two #chucky show #chucky the series #Paul chucky #glenda tilly #glen tilly #glenda valentine #glen ray tilly #glen valentine #glen and glenda #glenda ray tilly #gg ray

[mitziholder]

I was catching the perfectionism vibes, it's shame if it hinders your progress. Your characters and style seem so cool so I wanted to probe. Comics really are a marathon to create. Losing steam is natural and maybe switching up your conception of your project can help. Not trying to pressure you in any way, just hoping to provide some food for thought.

How do you feel about comics as a medium? You mentioned you mostly "skim" comics for inspiration and love Wimmen's Comix but is it a medium you feel very connected to in general and for your story idea?

I've seen multiple webcomic artists unfortunately struggle with the labor needed for drawing panels and incorporating prose along with art and regular comic panels to maintain progress. If you are more into writing than drawing, maybe incorporating prose along with comics/art is an option you'd be interested in. Don't have the best examples but thinking of Homestuck's long script-format convos that follow panels. And for a comic that later incorporated prose, the webcomic Paranatural went from all comic panels to mixing prose and art. I'll be honest that I stopped reading Paranatural as a teen before the shift so I can't speak to its writing/art quality.

“skimming” was a little disingenuous. I have read a lot of comics, but very rarely have I felt that they fully utilized the affordances of the medium. the reasons for this vary; comics are plagued by many issues deriving from the fact that they were, at one point, both extremely popular and cheap (low-brow) - kneecapped by the CCA and warped into something stupid and trivial for children. even today, that perception remains. I would say the majority of people aren’t capable of recognizing comics as a mature medium. lots of comic writers have a chip on their shoulder about this… particularly Alan Moore.

I bring him up because Watchmen was one of the first pieces of media that really opened my eyes as to what comics were capable of as a graphic medium; people regularly recognize the visual artistry of film, the (often) invisible work done in blocking, cinematography, effects, and editing that makes movies feel like art. comics should be art. every frame should be a painting. panels should fit together into a larger picture composed with thought and care. Dan Gibbons did so - with regard not only for how panels fit next to each other but also for how they fit within the page and the page within the chapter and so on… rich with detail, of equal weight to the dialogue in conveying narrative and thematic meaning. it amazed me because of how little the art actually matters in so many comics, only there by obligation (because without art it would no longer be a comic). why is this? I don’t know. profit? but you see it in indie comics, too. that part confuses me. why would you make something if you don’t want it to be good? what’s the point?

anyway, I found that the story I wanted to tell would not fit within the bounds of a stage play. it has continually resisted (with some notoriety on this blog) my attempts to fit it into prose. the dialogue is what moves it, and with my sort of shaky aptitude for art and love of the medium’s potential, I felt that making it a comic was the natural choice. I don’t particularly enjoy the process of drawing, but without art I felt something was missing - a void that couldn’t be filled by anything else. I never wanted it to give the impression that the art was done by rote, incidental/inconsequential, a pure and thoughtless representation of the dialogue… but that is sort of what it has to be at this point. I wish that integrating the visual half came more naturally to me, but I’ve accepted that it’s a skill I’m going to have to hone with much practice. it’s something I’ve struggled with quite a bit as someone who is borderline aphantasic. very little of the art that I make comes directly from my brain. it is not intuitive to me at all. I am so reliant on references, have no imagination, am very rarely struck with the idea for a bit of visual humor or detail that adds meaning rather than merely visualizing the existing script - the words. I am obsessed with words, clearly. meaning and rhythm and punctuation. I’m a word person. I want to be an art person. I want so baaaadly for my work to be good. I try so hard.

I’m often tempted to throw in the towel and admit that my brain doesn’t work that way - that I’m aiming too high, stubbornly set on something I can never really have - not to an extent that I’m satisfied with. but if I gave in to that feeling, I would never finish anything. I feel like once I am done with my classes and my living situation is more stable, I’ll be sort of okay - or at least more consistent - when it comes to the art stuff... worst-case scenario, I cave and go the homestuck route (which is not something I thought I’d ever say). I don’t know. we’ll have to see. once this semester is over...😮‍💨

#ask #by the way thank you for the extremely thoughtful ask :)

[ttyls]

hmmm currently Not Great :-(

my older sister needed to be somewhere but couldn’t bring her car since she’s leaving for a flight later so she wanted me to drop her off and said it would be good practice for me since i’m basically learning how to drive again. my dad is acting as my driving instructor so he went with us. i’ve never driven anywhere at night other than the very quiet streets of my neighborhood and was kinda anxious about it. my vision isn’t horrible but it’s not perfect either. seeing at night is harder and i forgot to bring my glasses and everyone’s headlights were in my eyes. some people on the road were blargh and every time it wasn’t my fault she still yelled like it was. instead of saying “stop” at a normal volume she would scream it too. she said i wasn’t going fast enough so i sped up then she wanted me to make a right so obviously if you do the math i made a very fast turn. she yepled again ofc and by then n i just wanted to go home. i’m new here i can’t see it’s my firsttj time on earth and imm already being brave aboutbit 🥲🥲🥲 when she got off she said “thanks i guess” and left . me and my dad driving back went a little better mayb. i was extra anxious after and cautious and everyone kinda cut me bc i was going slow and my dad was telling me to take a right but i didn’t want the same thing to happen so i just missed the street on purpose and u-turned on the street ahead. we got home blah blah my dad was telling me that right turn was really dangerous but at least he wasn’t mean aboutbit. i thought i was okay until i told my mom my older sister didn’t like my driving and my mom said “she doesn’t like what anyone does. you know she always has to be number 1” and that nothing anyone does is good enough for her . i know that was supposed to be somewhat comforting, that it’s not personal but it made me so sad bc it’s true . she has so many issues and she hates us for it even her own bf has to teach her how to be a person with basic empathy and her ex bf was too nice tp break up withher in a normal way even though she called him stupid to his face all the time. she mentions her therapist sometimes but i think she needs to find a new one or is only talking to her too infrequently. not that she’s home often but i’m glad she’s gonna be gone for 10 days. she’s a weirdo and i was very brave today!!!!!!!!! whatever i’mstill brave for crying in my bathroom for 15 minutes!!! i’m still brave for trying to make it look like i didn’t have a hard cry before dinner !!! am gonna watch comforting movie later 🫂 if you read this don’t worry about me i’m very brave 🥺

#for the void

[toacollabevent]

Submitted by @im-here-maybe

Hey, my match was the super cool @tsarinatorment and I wrote a fic based off of her fic linked below. It doesn't make sense without reading Tsarinatorment's fic and it's just a cute fluff fic based on the situation she provided. Its the first fic I've ever written and I'm glad I could do it through this event!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38225590

~

Once I had finished speaking, I looked at the cocooned girl beside me. Slowly the greenery slid off of her allowing her to once again move. She stared deep into my eyes as a pit formed in my stomach. I was never very good at talking to people. I caught a slight glimmer on the edge of her cat-eyed glasses. If you looked closely, you could practically see the gears turning in her head. I just wanted to know what she was thinking. I just wanted to help. Finally, she spoke.

“Have you ever seen one of those girly teen movies from the early 2000s?”

“Pardon?”

My mind went blank. I simply sat there with my mouth agape like an idiot. Why would she ask me something like that? I turned to look for the older Demeter girl but apparently, she slid away during what I thought was an emotional serious moment. Meg simply plowed forward.

“Yeah, you know, like I don’t know, Princess Diaries or something.”

“Well sure, but why would you ask that?”

She paused to give me a look. Not necessarily a mean look mind you, but it still managed to somehow make me feel stupid for asking the question.

“Well, if I don’t like when he looks like” she paused trying to find the right word, “that, and you don’t like when he looks like Lester, then it makes sense for us to take the super secret third option and create an entirely new form.”

She had said the words slowly and once she finished she looked at me expectantly as I mulled it over in my mind. I mean the idea made sense, but I hadn’t exactly admitted my feelings about Lester to anyone until now. Would Dad even agree to something like this? I know how much he likes his eight pack, but then again,

“It makes sense. while overcoming our issues is important, it probably can’t be done in one day. I guess I’ll help.”

I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, I mean the idea was so stupid. No, not stupid, it made sense. It was entirely logical; it was just silly I suppose. I couldn’t get the mental image of Meg, Kayla, Austin, and Nico all crowding around Dad while a 2000s-style movie montage shows hair and clothes flying until he’s transformed into the early 2000s epitome of beauty complete with glitter, lash extensions, and entirely too much eyeliner out of my head. As Meg grabbed my wrist to lead me back to camp, I couldn’t help a smile from tugging at my lips. Who knows this might be fun, and if we’re real here, Dad would love to be given lash extensions and entirely too much eyeliner.

-

When we arrived back at camp, Dad was back to looking like Lester. I felt my chest tighten as Meg stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand still gripped my wrist as if sensing my pulse. Dad approached slowly, though I wasn’t paying too much attention to the interaction. Meg still held my wrist in an iron grip and my heart was hammering. What if she said something to him? Does she know I never told him?

“Change back”

She stuck out her chin and practically demanded it. Perhaps she’s more perceptive than I thought.

“Meg” Dad hesitated while Meg stood firm, “Are you sure? I don’t want to upset you.”

“Yeah. I mean I have an idea so you won’t stay that way for long.”

She finally dropped my wrist so she could cross her arms over her chest proudly. She oozed confidence while Dad just looked terrified.

“Oh? What exactly is that idea?”

“You’ll see”

Terror was an appropriate response. Meg may be a child, but she truly is an unstoppable force of nature.

-

Meg had somehow managed to get everyone on board. She walked with Kayla who was snickering the whole walk to cabin 7. She somehow managed to communicate her idea to everyone without Dad figuring out what was going on. Even Nico was willing to come along. Dad looked anxious. He looked as if he was trying to figure out the cure for cancer when in reality he was just trying to figure out what his twelve-year-old friend had in store for him. Do gods sweat from nerves, or is that something he picked up from mortality? When we got back I went to lay down on my bed while the others started chaos. After all, today was going to be a long day.

-

When I woke up the sound of chatter and laughter filled the air. Kayla stood with her arm around Meg who was practically doubled over laughing while Nico and Austin stood on either side of a full-length mirror. Dad was striking cheesy pose after cheesy pose making Meg laugh harder. Dad looked different, and the more I looked at him the more I wondered if some of the ideas were his. He was an adult, perhaps mid-twenties, but at first glance, you might mistake him for a teen. It was trippy but I suppose gods were just talented like that. His hair and eyes were still the same as mine, but his face was softer. His Jaw wasn’t quite so square and his cheeks were fuller, though that might just be from the dopey grin on his face. Did he always have dimples like that? Freckles were scattered across his face, onto his shoulders, and down his arms. His tan wasn’t quite so aggressive and his muscles weren’t quite so inhuman. He was toned for sure, and I would bet good money he still had his eight pack, but he looked less like a bodybuilder model and more like some guy. An insanely beautiful and pretty guy, but still just some guy. Above all, he looked happy. He looked like my dad.

#submission #toacollabevent2022 #trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #will solace #meg mccaffery #pjo apollo #apollo cabin #nico di angelo #im-here-maybe #tsarinatorment

[hiccanna-tidbits]

HICCANNA MONTH WEEK 2, DAY 2 - WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”: LOUD, SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR COLLEGE AU

*Collapses into exhausted heap* IT’S DONE IT’S DONE IT’S BARELY IN TIME FOR THE END OF HICCANNA MONTH BUT IT’S DONE

Y’all git HYPED, because this is my first-ever crack at Established Relationship Hiccanna!!! Get ready for some of that sweet sweet “Anna is insecure about ‘not standing out’ in any super obvious way but Hiccup reassures her in the most blunt but effective way possible” trope that I’ve been meaning to really delve into since forever :D I love how he’d be really calm and patient with her when she needs it but also would straight up say “Uhhhh that’s bullshit???” when she starts talking bad about herself. Like YES king say it how it IS :O He’s also just. Genuinely confused, like??? HOW is it possible for people see his girlfriend as any less awesome than he sees her??? Including (and ESPECIALLY) his girlfriend herself??? Like it straight up Does Not Compute, Hiccup.exe has stopped working, please try again later

Yes, Insecure Anna is just as worthy of love as Confident and Self-Assured Anna and if anyone wants to dispute this and act like she doesn’t “deserve” Hiccup because she hasn’t totally conquered her self-loathing tendencies yet (but she’s working on it!!!) then I will throw ALL the hands with you I stg

Fair warning that this ended up being a shamelessly self-indulgent, projection-filled ventfic, because I needed an avenue through which to bitch about a very specific issue XD Anyways, to all the girlies who have ever sat in awkward, uncomfortable silence while your friends all talk super excitedly about some piece of media you’ve never seen/weren’t that into and you feel like you have nothing to add and also your friends aren’t bothering to bring you into the conversation...this one’s for you!!! :D

Also, not me using Anna to deal with my ADHD issues again XD Sadly, that classic shit attention span extends to literally everything, not just boring and lame school and work stuff. I can zone out during practically anything, even the most interesting movie/show/RPG game. Like I’m not bored, my brain just needed a smoke break and now all my friends are gonna think I’m stupid af for it ^^; Fun times! Also not me writing Hiccup reassuring Anna the same way I wish someone would reassure me--

Apologies in advance for potentially OOC Jack...I needed someone for Anna to squabble with a bit, so I upped his Little Shit tendencies just a bit XD In my defense, I DO think given whatever the Modern AU equivalent of “300 years of loneliness” is (probably something mental illness related), Jack would be drawn to more dark, “broody” media because he would feel like it better reflected his experiences. Anna, meanwhile, is like “To hell with this bleak grimdark shit, why would I watch something that just makes me even more miserable???” I do have them bicker a little For The Drama, but it’s mostly all in good fun XD

Not me writing fics set in winter/involving snow in some way to combat the horrible heat wave I’ve been getting where I live XD Physically I am braving 90+ degree weather, but mentally I am rolling around in a snowdrift.

Fic under the cut!!!

***

9:40 pm. The numbers briefly light up Anna’s phone screen as a text from Elsa slides in.

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight. Hope you’re having fun!

Anna twirls another mozzarella stick through her marinara sauce, watching the viscous red liquid seep into the gaps in the crumbly, golden-orange crust. With a little imagination, it could be a very crispy, basil-speckled submarine being sucked into a massive blood whirlpool. Now that’s a movie she would see—provided the blood looks fake enough, anyways. (She does not go to the cinema to get nauseous and uneasy, thank you very much—school does that plenty enough as it is.)

She is having fun. She’s having immense fun. How could she not be? She’s eating delicious empty calories, she’s surrounded by her best friends, and Hiccup is turning 19 in about an hour and a half. She’s at her best friend’s—pardon her, her new boyfriend’s—birthday outing and she is having the time of her life.

Or at least she should be.

It was an event they had all been planning for months. The new sci-fi thriller, Cold Life, was all Hiccup could talk about. An ambitious project based on a comic book series Anna had never heard of (as so many sci-fi thrillers were), the plot centered around a ragtag group of time travelers trying to prevent the heat death of the multiverse while also not causing too many timeline overlaps and unraveling reality. So you know. Very low stakes.

They made a movie night out of it, buying tickets a week in advance and surprising Hiccup with reserved seats in the back of an iMax theater. They bustled their way in and paired off, as they so often did, organizing by who was most comfortable whispering and joking under their breath to who. Anna watched the movie eating popcorn with one hand and holding Hiccup’s with the other (she’s still getting used to being allowed to do that), and now she’s sitting in a sparkly blue plastic diner booth, delicately picking at her food in such a way to make it last as long as possible.

It isn’t that she’s not hungry. She’s always some degree of hungry. In a world where she was her most authentic self, the chicken Florentine panini, the mozzarella stick appetizer, the onion rings, and the honey mustard sauce would be gone within minutes of being delivered. The reason they are all still on her plate in some capacity is because they’re keeping her busy enough to not look…

Well, busy enough to not look like she shouldn’t be there.

She looks up for the first time in a while, tearing off the end of the marinara-soaked cheese strip as she scans the diner booth. The lively conversations—the same type that usually give her some degree of comfort and belonging—are starting to agitate her.

They shouldn’t be. The topics are innocent enough. Merida and Astrid are raving about how epic the movie’s fight choreography was, occasionally ripping off pieces of honey chipotle wings with their teeth for emphasis. Rapunzel and Moana are wrapped up in an animated discussion about all sorts of visual imagery and motifs and other such things, trying to meander their way toward a conclusion about the meaning of the recurring pink glow on the horizon. Flynn and the twins are rating the explosions (of which there were many, despite explosions being impossible in the oxygen-devoid environment of outer space) with a surprising amount of thought. Mavis is spearheading a deep dive with Tooth and Johnny into the psyche of a character Anna found rather irritating. Finally, next to Anna, Hiccup and Jack are arguing over themes, and whether Cold Life is making a statement for or against the idea of inevitability.

Usually when they go out with friends like this, one of Hiccup’s hands is always reserved for Anna to hold. They’re still getting used to being together, and sometimes Anna (or both of them, for all she knows) needs a reminder it’s real. For years and years it was only ever friends—Anna gazing longingly when his back was turned, drawing hearts around their names in her notebook margin and covering them up when anyone looked. Wondering how he’d feel wrapped around her, or pressed up against her while they slept. Daydreaming about flooding his locker with candy boxes on valentine’s day. She’s still in shock from bumbling her sorry way through asking him out and him actually saying yes.

Yeah, I’ll go see Black Hole Tyrannosaur with you. You want to grab ice cream afterwards? Absolutely fucking surreal.

Black Hole Tyrannosaur, for what it’s worth, was very good. The concept of going through a wormhole and finding a planet containing several extinct animals who had fallen through gaps in space-time sounded ridiculous, but the practical effects were solid and the characters funny enough to make it a delightful ride.

They’d held hands across the seat, sprouting a tradition of linking one pair of hands and using the other to share popcorn. Anna glances at Hiccup’s hands now, one making slicing motions to indicate how distinctly the movie laid out that butterfly effect-style change is always possible and the other clutching the side of his head the way it always did when he was frustrated.

Usually he can convey his points well enough with one-handed gestures, but today is his birthday. He deserves to utilize the full power of elaborate, sweeping hand motions to discuss Cold Life. She’ll let the hand-holding rule slide, if only for one day.

Anna takes a long sip of the cookies and cream milkshake she and Hiccup are sharing, and feels a deep pit start to settle in her stomach.

It isn’t that she didn’t like the movie. It had some interesting concepts, and it entertained her well enough. She rarely got bored, per se.

It’s just that it’s one of those movies where you have to have your whole brain turned on. Whirring at 100% capacity the entire time, or you’ll miss about 16 important details. And then later details build off those details, and later details build off those ones. It’s an endless cycle of “if you zone out for a few minutes, you’re fucked.” And then when you try to play mental catch-up, you miss yet another plot-relevant piece of info.

Hiccup loves this kind of stuff. He loves sinking his fingers into complicated things and picking them apart to see how they work. He has an eye for detail that she could never dream of, and a knack for piecing them together like some kind of mental jigsaw puzzle. He’s probably the smartest person she knows. (Still a little shocking to her that he found her to be anywhere near his supreme Level of Brain.)

It's not that Anna isn’t smart. She can usually follow Hiccup fine when they’re chatting about this or that or the other, discussing pressing concerns like the future of AI or whether single-biome planets like the ones in Star Wars could actually exist. Not to mention she’s beaten him in chess. Several times.

It’s just that her brain is constantly running on full power mode. It’s the only way to keep up with her classes, no matter how wired and anxious it leaves her 24/7. And nowadays, even during what’s technically her downtime, her poor brain is spluttering and overheating like a computer that no one ever shuts down.

She couldn’t keep it on full power for an entire 2 and a half hour film even if she wanted to. It always flutters away mid-movie, demanding rest and leaving her at the mercy of shallow, mediocre movie takes developed by an Anna Runeardsen only half there.

And now, between her failure to keep track of Cold Life’s many timelines, her merciless confusion at the vague symbolism, and her frustration with mean characters everyone else seemed to think were fascinating and deep, Anna suspects she arrived at a very surface-level and mediocre take indeed. From what she overhears of the babble around her, she wouldn’t have anything to add—or worse, would cause a stir by accidentally disagreeing with something everyone else is in solid accord about.

All right, no more lying to herself. This sucks. Never in her life has she felt so painfully boring.

She considers trying to butt into Flynn and the twins’ conversation—how hard could it be to have a discussion about explosions? When she checks on them again, though, they’re packing up. From what Anna overhears, Flynn is apparently taking Ruffnut and Tuffnut to some monster truck show, so they can’t stay all night.

Do they even have monster truck shows in this city? If they do, Anna sure wasn’t aware. She wonders if the three of them are bored and faking an excuse to leave, although Ruffnut’s enthusiastic speculation about which unlucky car would be crushed the flattest seems to indicate otherwise.

Anna scans the table again, assessing her remaining options. Rapunzel and Moana have moved on to talking about some weird little piano leitmotif Anna completely missed. Mavis’s miniature discussion circle is now analyzing the main love interest, a rather nasty woman who used her tragic backstory of finding out she was an “accident” and her general bitterness over being infertile as justification to implode an entire timeline.

Her eyes pause on Jack and Hiccup, now discussing the “brilliance” of the ending. Though they seem to be disagreeing over what details they did and didn’t like, the general consensus was that the entire finale was very, very good.

Jack is being particularly insufferable about it, seemingly incapable of shutting up about what a mad genius Directorman Whatshisface is. During his spiel, he seems to be on a mission to dip his fries in every available substance on the table—honey mustard, ketchup, Merida’s chipotle aioli, Hiccup’s side of Ranch, the table sugar jar, someone’s abandoned spare BBQ sauce, Hiccup’s soda, Merida’s lemonade, his own mint chocolate shake. He barely seems fazed by even the most disturbing of combinations.

“Hey Jack,” Anna pipes up. “Which one tastes the best?”

“Huh?” He looks at her, blinking in confusion before he realizes what he’s subconsciously been doing.

“The ranch,” he says cheekily. “No question.”

And just like that, he’s back to gushing about the poetic cinema of the last 20 minutes of Cold Life. So much for getting him to change the subject to something she could talk about without making an idiot of herself.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I get it, you think it’s brilliant that all their efforts were for nothing. I want to hear what Anna thought.”

Anna isn’t sure how long Jack has been going on when she hears Hiccup say her name. “Huh?”

Hiccup turns and smiles at her. “I want your input. I know those like…hopeless, depressing endings movies do sometimes aren’t your cup of tea, so I was wondering how this one fared.”

Anna blinks, eyes widening with shock. “You remembered?”

“Uh, I’m in love with you?” He looks at her like she’s completely lost her marbles. “Of course I remembered.”

Anna’s entire face grows hot, probably turning redder than the marinara sauce.

It isn’t like they haven’t exchanged “I love you”s. They’re six months in. Anna dropped an “I love you” after four (although rest assured, she knew long before they started dating—she just didn’t want to scare the poor boy off right after she somehow managed to woo him. Somehow.). He said it back after only a little contemplation (which she considered a win, from the guy who overanalyzes everything), soft and slow under a blanket fort. They’d been huddling for warmth and telling ghost stories, and when Anna accidentally came up with one so alarming she freaked herself out, she took a break from the spooky tale marathon to confess her undying love.

So yes. Factually speaking, he loves her. She loves him. It has been stated aloud many, many times at this point. Not exactly a surprise.

But every time he says it, it still feels like one.

Maybe it’s because she still, even after all this time, worries she doesn’t deserve it. Maybe it’s because she’s not used to people loving her and being so upfront and straightforward about it. Maybe it’s because the mere concept of someone she loves reciprocating the sentiment with equal or greater intensity will never not shock her.

Anna has never had reason to hold a particularly high opinion of herself. The idea of anyone thinking so much of her is still a little hard to grasp.

She’s never been first-in-line for anyone’s heart, or been anyone’s top choice. But now, with Hiccup looking at her like that, she can believe she’s his.

He isn’t exactly talking quietly, either. Hiccup has never been particularly loud—much to the chagrin of many of his more rowdy, boisterous family members, who always complain he’s no fun at parties. While not exactly soft-spoken, he didn’t often care to raise his voice and preferred a tone that could devolve into inconspicuous mutters if needed. Generally speaking, Hiccup cared quite a bit more about the cleverness of the things he said rather than the volume at which he said them.

And yet here he is, announcing that he’s in love with her so noisily that several of their friends look up in surprise. His enunciation leaves no room for argument, either—the oft-present incoherent mumbles and splutters have apparently gone on sabbatical.

He’s speaking with an open confidence Anna doesn’t often hear.

“I mean…I, uh…”

Anna isn’t so lucky.

“Good, right?” Jack cuts her off, mouth full of French fry, before she can stumble very far. “There’s something so beautifully ironic about them ripping themselves apart hopping between universes and sacrificing their own timeline versions of themselves…and then their plan still doesn’t work. And for a second there, you really thought everything was going to be fine! Like the way they set it up to trick you was brilliant—”

“I don’t necessarily think—”

As usual, it’s difficult to get a word in edgewise once Jack is off on a rant. “Kinda underlies this idea that you can try really, really hard, and still fail. That people with the best intentions can do everything right and still get fucked over. Like, that’s just life, you know?” He punctuates the statement with a bite of an onion ring dipped in tabasco sauce.

Anna frowns. “That doesn’t really—”

“And the twist of the heroes being punished when they fucked up, but the villains ultimately getting rewarded? Solid.” The bite of onion ring is not nearly long enough to slow Jack down. “I never see movies ballsy enough to flat-out show that evil rich people can buy their way out of trouble. At least not without some kind of ‘karma’ coming for them. Which it doesn’t in the real world, since karma isn’t really a thing.”

“Seems a little bleak, don’t you think?” By some miracle, Hiccup manages to cut in. “This idea that any efforts to spearhead positive change in society are ultimately doomed.”

“That’s not really the point, though. It’s more about how all societies will eventually end, and trying to prolong the inevitable is a waste of your own existence—”

“Will they, though?” Hiccup interrupts Jack a little more boldly as they fall into their usual movie-arguing rhythm. “I mean, no future time travelers have come from the end of the universe and told us for sure.”

“It’s likely.” Jack takes a noisy sip of his green-and-brown milkshake. “Entropy ultimately prevails and all that.”

“But there’s no point.” Anna finds herself shoving her way in before she can second-guess it. “I mean, like…what’s the purpose of showing us a story where nothing gets accomplished in the end? What am I supposed to take away from that?”

For a moment, Jack looks surprised before the usual air of self-assurance returns. “No, no, I think you’re misunderstanding,” he says around a mouthful of fry. “There’s not supposed to be a point for the characters. The point for us is that there’s no point for them. It’s kind of showing how everything we do is meaningless in the face of a cold, uncaring universe.” He grins, like he just put in the last piece of a particularly tricky jigsaw puzzle.

Ah, so this is the answer that she’s been missing for so long. Complete and utter nihilism.

“You seem oddly sanguine about all this,” Hiccup notes. Jack only smirks, raising his milkshake like he’s making a toast.

“What can I say? I’m just speaking the facts.”

Anna felt one hand clench into a fist under the table, the other starting to whittle away at the wood beside her placemat with green fingernails. It’s hard to tell if he’s actually that smug, or if he’s just trying to get a rise out of her. Maybe both.

Probably the latter. He’s not above causing a stir to get the attention on him. She’s not so different from him that way—dismissed and overlooked for much of her life, always wanting to be seen.

Still, there are other ways to go about it without talking over her. Or her boyfriend, for that matter.

“I guess you aren’t wrong,” Hiccup says, though he sounds resigned.

Jack looks briefly appalled that that was even considered a possibility. “Psh. Of course I’m not. Seriously great ending, though. I was more impressed than I’ve been in a while.”

“Yeah, kept you on your toes.” Hiccup doesn’t sound quite as enthusiastic as before. “Certainly couldn’t say it’s predictable, that’s for sure.”

“Really subverted all the stuff you—”

“Well, I thought the ending was stupid.”

She surprises herself with how ferocious she sounds.

As so often occurs, the entire table happens to go quiet the second she calls attention to herself.  Her friends all turn to stare, and she suddenly wonders if she’s made a grave mistake.

Maybe she should take it back. Force an anxious laugh, say she was kidding. Let Jack have his fifteen minutes of movie analysis fame while she goes back to hiding behind the remains of her panini. Maybe she shouldn’t stir up controversy and strife at her very own boyfriend’s birthday outing.

Then something warm settles over her fingers, still digging nervous trenches in the wooden table. She feels a thick hand curl around her own, and some of the tension trickles down her back and out of her body.

A couple quick squeezes, subtle but unmistakable. It’s a small gesture, but Anna knows exactly what it means.

I’ve got your back.

He’s taken to doing it when the old, rusty metaphorical springs that make up her body get coiled a bit too tight. It helps drain out the worst of the anxiety, social or otherwise, and get her bent back into place.

She glances up. Hiccup is giving her a soft look, encouraging and perhaps even a little…eager.

Right. He’s in love with her. He’s probably not lying about that. If he’s in love with her, he’ll probably want to hear her opinions. That logically tracks, right?

He gives her a small nod, as if to say go on.

And so she does. No turning back now—she has to commit to the bit, at least.

“So nothing they do will ever be able to save the multiverse.” She crosses her arms. “They try, and they fail, and they go back in time, and they try, and they fail again, and they keep doing that until they dissolve into the space-time continuum and cease to be, blah blah blah. It’s boring. It’s the same objective with the same result every single time.”

“Well, yeah, but the thing that makes it entertaining is the variety of ways in which they fuck up.” Jack smirks.

“Sure, the first few times. Then eventually it’s like…okay, is this going anywhere? Is it gonna show me some epic thing that makes all of this worth spending three hours getting my brain sliced up and handed to me? And then, to top it all off, you get Clinical Depression: Movie Finale Edition!”

She spreads her hands wide as she says it, mouth hanging open in mock wonder.

“I still don’t think you’re getting it.” Jack’s smirk turns to a frown. “It’s not really about some big dramatic reveal. In the real world, you don’t always get to know the how or the why of things. They just happen.”

There’s a note of bitterness in his voice, like he has quite a few of his own unanswered questions. A predicament that apparently he wants to see reflected in media everywhere so as to not feel alone.

Anna almost feels sorry for him until he continues talking.

“I mean…come on. Not every ending can be this cheerful ‘friendship and teamwork save the day’ thing. Anyways, it wouldn’t make sense for the story. If you pay attention to the plot structure, like Hiccup was saying earlier, it’s more narratively satisfying to end on a bleak note.” Jack sips his milkshake smugly before popping another handful of fries in his mouth. Hiccup looks away, eyeing the table guiltily. “Honestly, I think more movies could use endings where—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Jack.”

Jack freezes mid-chew, the end of a French fry poking from his lips. The entire table turns to stare at Anna again.

She glances over the shocked faces of her friends, suddenly feeling mortified. Jack looks like he got smacked with a mallet.

“Oh, gosh.” She shrinks back into her seat, studying the few bites left of her panini. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. Geez. That was so rude, I—”

“Are you kidding?!” Hiccup’s voice cuts in, and a hearty hand slaps her back. “Annihilate him, babe.”

She looks up to see the shock has faded from Jack’s eyes to be replaced with…an almost playful glint. He’s not mad, she realizes. Not even annoyed. More intrigued than anything.

He’s challenging her. Which is good, as he is, from this moment forward, essentially consenting to being annihilated.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” She leans back in her seat, letting out the most exaggerated groan possible. “You’re so ridiculous. ‘Ooooooh, look at me, I’m such a deep and profound movie where everything sucks and nothing gets any better! I’m gonna win an Oscar because the movie awards committee loves pain and suffering and they think the only way to be respectable is to wallow in your own sadness and misery!’ Give me a fucking break. You think I need to be told by some...brainscrewey movie that sometimes things go to shit?! My life has been going to shit for years. And I don’t think I’m the only one. I mean…we’re all kind of fucked, right? Not like our majors are gonna make us more than pennies.”

She looks around at her friends, all studying liberal arts or humanities or whatever other field that was absolutely not hiring. Hiccup was maybe the only exception, with his path toward an engineering bachelor’s.

They stare back at her, eyes growing even wider. Apparently the perpetual optimist talking with absolutely 0 filter whatsoever isn’t something you see every day.

“The Adderall doesn’t always work, y’know.” She knows she’s oversharing now, but she doesn’t care. “Neither does the Zoloft. Or whatever else I try. I’m panickey, I’m stressed all the time, I pretend I have a promising future to keep myself sane but I really, really don’t. I see the world and the economy and the environment and all this stuff like…falling apart around us, and I need to delude myself into believing maybe everything’s going to be okay or I’ll lose it. And you think a movie about people giving their all to prevent a disaster and failing miserably every time is what anyone needs?!”

There’s a short pause before Jack speaks up again, this time lifting a finger insightfully.

“But narratively speaking—”

“Well, fuck the narrative!” Anna starts frantically waving her hands around, copying Hiccup’s over-the-top gestures in her desperation to get her point across. “Maybe if its message is this shitty ‘nothing you do will ever matter’ thing, then the narrative is what needs to change, not get an equally-shitty ending to go with it. I mean, last I checked, people watch movies for fun, and like…who enjoys feeling hopeless, crushing despair?! How am I supposed to leave a movie theater feeling satisfied and like…generally okay about the state of the world when none of the good guys get a happy ending, and they all died for nothing?”

“Arlin got a happy ending—”

“Fuck her too!” Before Anna knows it, she’s picking up an onion ring drenched in honey mustard and chucking it across the table. Drops of yellow goo fly onto her friends’ faces, and the fried vegetable lands on Jack’s cheek with a wet splat. He peels it off his face, eyeing it with distaste.

“She’s the worst,” Anna goes on emphatically. “Look, we all have problems, but you don’t see me going around and destroying timelines over it. Sorry, but I’d be different. Also, can we talk about how sexist it is that only the ‘traditional’ lady who wants babies gets a happy ending?! Bet they thought I wouldn’t notice that. Ha!” She smirks triumphantly, ripping off a piece of a mozzarella stick. “I see how it is. They think the one who wants to be a mom is the pure and virtuous and innocent one by default, so she’s the one who gets to live. But I see right through their bullshit, and I think Karis and Suret should have lived! Everyone else can die, I guess, if the plot really needs them to, but give us someone to root for, you know?”

Hiccup whistles, nudging Anna playfully. “That’s my girl!”

Anna gives him a sidelong glance, sure she’s blushing an embarrassing amount. “I’m your girl?”

He blinks. “I’d think so, unless you’re only dating me as a friend. In which case it might be necessary for us to have a talk about the nature of our relationship.”

“Did Arlin get a happy ending, though?” Moana asks. “I mean, she got stuck in that eternal time loop. And wasn’t the implication it was just a fake dream dimension?”

Rapunzel is temporarily distracted from their conversation, watching Jack with Merida and Astrid in a sort of morbid fascination. He pops the earlier-chucked onion ring in his mouth before beginning an elaborate routine to lick up the honey mustard splashed across his cheeks.

Anna shrugs. “Happy comparatively. It was still better than what everyone else got.”

“She had growth, though, man,” Johnny pipes up. Casual but insistent, in the way he has a habit of being. “At least she’s less of a jerk than she was in the beginning. So she kinda deserves it.”

“And Arlin’s psyche is so interesting!” Mavis stretches out her fingers, grinning. “Like…why did she feel so incomplete without kids? She was super well-loved by everyone for like…her whole life, so it’s not like she didn’t have a support system. And she was smart enough and rich enough to basically become whatever she wanted, so…why was she gunning so hard for her own kids? I mean, she could’ve easily been a pediatrician or a teacher or a social worker or something, if she wanted them around so badly. But she was so insistent on being a mom, so like…what is her deal?”

Before she can stop herself, Anna lets out a puff of frustration. “To be honest, it was hard for me to care when she spent most of her screentime being an asshole. Like, I know ‘unlikable main characters’ are the new fad or whatever, but they’re just…draining to watch.”

Mavis gives her a puzzled look. “Really? I love picking them apart. Trying to figure out how they work.” Johnny and Tooth nod emphatically.

Anna frowns. “So you don’t ever get like…aggravated, having to see somebody be a huge jerk over and over?”

Tooth shakes her head, rainbow-dyed hair forming a bright blur around the dark skin of her face. “Not if it’s fiction, no. I mean I would assume any reasonable person would know not to emulate that kind of thing, right?”

“But it’s not like…disheartening?”

Johnny shrugs. “Honestly makes me appreciate real actual nice people more.”

She hears a shifting in the chair next to her, and glances over to see Hiccup turning back toward them. For a time, it seems he was distracted by Jack’s show. The other boy has, to the best of his ability, cleaned the honey mustard off his face, and is now sipping his milkshake and watching Anna—the contrarian of the day, apparently—with great interest.

Hiccup opens his mouth to speak, and Anna preemptively winces. She can only imagine how inane and childish the love of her life will find her views on unlikable characters. Honestly, if this many people are looking at her like she’s nuts, she probably deserves for him to make a snide comment—

“Anything else I can get for you kids? A dessert, maybe?”

A new voice interrupts before Hiccup can realize Anna’s movie takes are probably horrendously wrong. Their waitress is standing by the booth, notepad in hand.

“Oh! Ah—” Hiccup looks down at his lap nervously, and Anna sees his eyes drift to the wallet in his back pocket. His brow creases, a note of sadness drifting onto his face.

She knows what he’s thinking. Even before they started going out, it became second nature for her to tell.

He thinks he can’t afford this.

They’re all broke college students, some more comfortable asking their parents for handouts than others. Hiccup’s the stingiest with money, with his need to prove to his dad he’s independent ensuring he spends nearly every spare moment working on-campus jobs and every paycheck only on rent and essentials. He doesn’t have much left over on less than minimum wage.

But it’s also his birthday.

“Oh—oh no, I think we’ll be okay—”

“I’ve got it.” Anna pulls out her duck-shaped purse and nearly slams it down on the table. “Are you still doing the February special? The one where you sub out chocolate ice cream for strawberry and you get a discount?”

She read about it online when they first picked the place. Something to do with having leftover strawberry-flavored stuff from not as many people ordering Valentine’s desserts as the diner planned, Anna guesses. Today’s technically the first day of March, since Hiccup’s “actual” birthday comes only once every 4 years, but perhaps it’s close enough.

The waitress nods, and Anna launches into the dessert order.

“Can we get a banana split? February special, so two strawberry scoops and a vanilla scoop. Extra caramel and hot fudge sauce. Oh! And, uh…I don’t know if pineapple’s in season this time of year, but if you have any…could you sprinkle a bit on the top?”

After the waitress leaves, Anna turns to see Hiccup gawking at her. “What?”

“I love you.”

He says it with so much force that Anna’s surprised the table doesn’t shake. Several of their friends smirk, and Anna feels her cheeks burn.

“Oh, stop it.” She rolls her eyes, smiling nervously. “It’s your birthday! You deserve nice things.”

“But…that thing costs like $10!” he spluttered, waving his hands around. “Plus tax! And…you remembered I like caramel sauce?”

It’s her turn to stare at him like he’s been claimed by insanity. “I’m in love with you? Duh.”

He dissolves into incoherent stutters, blushing like a madman, and Anna smirks triumphantly.

If her doing a nice gesture can evaporate his dignity this quickly, then perhaps he isn’t exaggerating about the high regard he views her in.

“But back to Arlin,” she says, sitting up a little straighter. “Was it just me or was the scene where she goes on and on to Cyndilla about how she wants a baby completely out of nowhere? It was so annoying—”

“You sure you’re not just projecting because you don’t want any babies?” Jack asks, cutting her off as he slurps annoyingly at his milkshake.

Anna narrows her eyes. “Say that again and I’ll use you as a projectile missile.”

Merida snorts out a laugh, giving Anna an approving nod across the table. “Drag him, lass! Ah swear, someone’s got tae.”

***

It’s snowing when they walk out into the parking lot.

Hiccup shivers, mouth no doubt still feeling the last traces of his birthday sundae. Smiling softly, Anna takes off her puffy magenta jacket and slips it over his shoulders. No trouble getting those skinny arms in the sleeves, though the bottom of the coat hangs a ways above his waist.

He frowns at her. “But aren’t you gonna—”

She pats his arm. “You ate ice cream. You need it more.”

The group is starting to disperse across the curb, finishing up conversations and texting their older friends for rides. No one, save maybe Jack and Rapunzel, seems keen to walk back to the dorms in the snow.

Elsa’s coming to pick Anna up soon. To what Anna’s sure would be the shock of her earlier self, she feels a prick of disappointment. She doesn’t want the night to end.

“I agree with you, by the way,” she murmurs, looping her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “I think it was pro-inevitability—the movie, I mean. Nothing in the greater timeline changed in any meaningful way—nothing that I noticed, anyhow.”

“Ha!” Hiccup scoffs triumphantly as he wraps an arm around her waist. “I knew it. Jack’s an idiot.”

“But…” She slides a hand into his thick hair, starting to twirl stands around her finger in little circlets. “I also think its entire statement on inevitability was complete bullshit.”

He looks taken aback, leaning away from her. This only presses him farther into her massaging fingers. “What? Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She snickers. “Nothing is inevitable. There’s so many of these like…” She shakes her head. “Chaotic…chance…equation things I could never hope to understand that determine the probability of everything. And as I do understand it, they have to line up just so for literally anything to happen. Saying any cause will only ever produce one specific effect no matter what, and no matter if new outside stuff crops up and complicates everything—which it inevitably will, by the way, because random unexpected shit is always happening—seems…pretty improbable to me? Like, saying you can’t avoid a certain thing when there’s so many factors that have to work together to lead to any like…event…thing, and there’s like a billion other slightly and largely-varying event kinda things possible, acting like one is all special-weshial and can’t be altered no matter what seems kinda stupid.”

“So you’re saying…nothing is inevitable?”

“Yup. Same way nothing is certain-certain.”

“Oh? So not even us falling madly in love?”

Anna scowls at him as her cheeks begin to burn. “Okay, first of all, stop trying to be cute when I’m getting a point across. Second of all, especially that.”

She snorts mockingly, and Hiccup raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate? I mean…I had a crush on you for ages. You liked me even longer. Why wouldn’t we have gotten together?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, we had all kinds of things working against us. You were so dead convinced I was out of your league for some reason, and I was terrified you’d friendzone me and it would like…totally ruin me. No offense.”

He boyfriend shrugs. “None taken.”

“Point being that it would have been so easy for both of us to just never say anything. And voila! There you have it! No more being in love and making everyone else tell us to get a room.”

She spares a sidelong glance at Merida, who’s currently glaring at them with her tongue stuck out.

“Well, we’d still be in love though, right?” Hiccup says, frowning. “We’d just be a lot more miserable about it?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe one or both of us would meet someone else we were convinced was our soulmate or whatever, and we’d get super obsessed with them. Like, to the point it seemed stupid to like anyone else. Or I’d get frustrated when you put walls up like Elsa did, and I’d stop trying to get through to you. Or you’d hear me fart in class or something, and then decide I was disgusting and never worth considering as a romantic option again.”

He pouts. “You really think I’m that shallow?”

“I doubt it.” She shrugs. “But it’s what I’ve come to expect. You ever hear that ‘never ever ever do anything gross or lame in front of the guy you like or he’ll be turned off and never consider liking you back ever again’ stuff on the internet? Had me watching my every move around you for a long time.”

Hiccup scoffs. “Well, you didn’t need to. I’ve known for years that you snore, and sometimes you stink to high heaven because you forget to put your deodorant on in the morning, and you can get so overwhelmed that you can’t bring yourself to shower for days, and you still have all your toys from when you were a kid, and you love predictable and critically-panned movies because surprises and endless trope inversions stress you out, and you panic when you have to make big decisions or decisions where you think people will hate you for getting it wrong, and guess what? I still love you.”

His volume drifts up on the last sentence, like he’s speaking over a blizzard instead of a light, silent snow shower. Anna catches glimpses of several of their friends turning to look at them.

She tenses against him, sliding her hand out of his hair. Suddenly she’s looking at the snowy concrete, unable to meet her boyfriend’s eyes. “Why do you always say it like that?”

“Say it like what?”

“Like…like loud like that. So like…any old person can hear.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” She finally looks up, grimacing slightly. “I mean—well, it’s just—I guess I wonder—aren’t I embarrassing?”

He looks genuinely perplexed. “…are you? This is news to me.”

“You’re not like…” She bites her lip anxiously, somewhat dreading the blunt answer she knows she’s going to get. Her voice softens, as though if she speaks too quietly for him to hear, she’ll have an excuse to drop the subject and put off learning what has to be a painful truth.

“You’re not embarrassed to be with me? Like…at all?”

To her surprise, his confusion only grows. “In what world would I be embarrassed to be with you?”

“I mean…I’m barely passing college. I’m addicted to Starbucks and posting food pics on Instagram and a bunch of other unoriginal ‘basic girl’ stuff. I can’t go more than a few sentences without accidentally saying something stupid. I’m super gross and can’t take care of myself half the time. My brain overwhelms itself over the dumbest things, and then I can’t function at all. I’m not really on track to become anything like…exceptional. And smart people movies fry my brain, and I probably form a whole host of bad opinions about them while I’m watching them. I’m kind of a failure.”

After a small pause, Hiccup lets out a deep sigh. “Okay, I don’t even know where to start with all that. First of all, half that stuff doesn’t matter to me. That’s what I’ve always told you, and like…let’s be real, I’m not a good liar. If I was bullshitting, you’d know by now.” He shakes his head, smiling fondly. “If any of those things did bother me on any significant level, I can assure you I never would have gone out with you in the first place. I knew you long enough to know what I was getting into, Anna. Secondly…”

He casts a glance behind her, Anna following his gaze. Jack is stuffing snow down a giggling Rapunzel’s shirt, the smug air from earlier long gone. Anna looks back to see Hiccup rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t get most of Cold Life, either. Really, I was humoring Jack more than anything, but it’s no crime not to be able to wrap your head around that clusterfuck of a movie. I was impressed that you were able to analyze as much as you did. Thirdly…”

His hands slide up her waist to firmly grasp her shoulders. “You need to listen to me here. You’re the farthest thing from a failure. You get up every morning and you work your ass off ten times harder than anyone I know—just to get through the day. You bite and claw your way through advanced high school classes and college applications and now these terrifying exams that are worth 60% of your grade, and you still somehow find the energy to look out for me when I can’t do it myself. You keep on smiling and trying to see the best in everyone and everything, even when people are awful to you and you feel like no one wants you around—absolutely not true, by the way. Honestly, I do all right in school because a lot of technical, mathy stuff comes easily to me, but…” He smiles meekly. “I wish I had half the resilience you do. I wish I knew how to bounce back when I do eventually find a class that’s too much, because gods know it takes the balls of steel you have. Or…” His cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Boobs of steel, I guess.”

“Nice.” Anna grins. “I have natural protection if someone tries to stab my lungs!”

“Precisely.”

“But…” She meets his eyes, a little embarrassed by how desperate she probably looks. “You think there’s still hope for me?”

“Absolutely. You just haven’t found your niche yet. Which is fine—most people our age haven’t, despite what stupid college marketing campaigns will try to tell you. But when you do find it? I know you’re going to kill it. Zero doubt in my mind. When you funnel all that energy into something, it’s going to blow people away.”

And then Anna Runeardsen stands on her tiptoes (curse her boyfriend’s growth spurt the last year of high school—now he towers over her and it’s really rather unfair) and kisses Hiccup Haddock like never before.

They’ve kissed probably dozens of times at this point, some more memorable than others. This one feels different, though—like something straight out of a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.

(One where the actors have good chemistry, though. Not those lifeless budget movie kisses where it looks like two fish trying to eat each other.)

Her hand slides back up into his hair, and she breathes him in. He tastes like Oreos and hot fudge and ice cream and a shameless burst of self-confidence when she needs it the most. His lips are dry and chapped from the cold late winter air, but Anna doesn’t mind. It’s him, and that’s what matters to her.

Her heart still pounds every time, just like it did holding hands with him for the first time during a 6th grade game of Red Rover. All these years, and he still makes her feel like she’s floating on a summer breeze, wildflower aromas all around her and the sun in her hair.

Ironically, being with him is also as tranquil and easy as cloud-watching in the grass on a clear day. He excites her endlessly and keeps her grounded all at once, and she doesn’t know what she’d do without him.

Nearby, she can hear Merida gagging. This only makes Anna kiss her boyfriend harder.

When she pulls away, Hiccup’s hair is dotted with snowflakes. She smiles, brushing it out fondly.

“So,” she says cheekily. “Out of all the infinite possible timelines we exist in, I’m glad I’m in the one where I got to date you.”

He raises an eyebrow teasingly. “Are you sure? There’s probably several where you marry some famous actor, and get to livestream from a private pool all day.”

“Well…if you get that Silicon Valley job you’re striving for…” She pokes him playfully in the chest. “What’s the difference? Financially, anyhow.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow. “Anna, I don’t think you understand how money works—”

“Sure I do. There’s three categories of the monetary elite: ‘Rich’, ‘Richer’, and ‘Filthy Fucking Rich.’ And I, sir, am more than happy to just be in the ‘Rich’ category.”

He gives her a skeptical look, and she wonders if he knows she’s joking. She quickly backtracks.

“Or not. We could also be mega-broke together. I’m all right with living in a cardboard box under the freeway as long as I’m doing it with you.”

“Yeah, don’t get your hopes up about being rich.” He leans forward and kisses the side of her head. “I don’t think it’s time for us to start packing our bags for San Jose yet. I haven’t even passed my upper divs.”

Anna snorts. “You will, though. You really are the smartest person I know.”

“Maybe you have low standards, then.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“Debatable.”

There’s the soft crumbling of snow under tires, and Anna looks past Hiccup’s mop of brown hair to see a pale blue fiat pulling up to the curb.

“Looks like my ride’s here.” She leans up and plants a last kiss on his cheek. “We’ll have to continue this dispute some other time.”

“Good.” Hiccup snorts, crossing his arms. “You’ll have adequate time to realize you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” she says breezily. “But even if I was, and you start failing absolutely every class starting tomorrow…” She blows him a kiss as she backs toward Elsa’s car. “You know I’m sticking with you no matter what, babe.”

“I love you!” He shouts the words at her as she closes the car door, loud enough for all their friends to glance at him again. Elsa snorts with laughter.

“Seems like your relationship is in terrible jeopardy,” she deadpans.

Anna snickers as her sister drives away. “Oh, yeah. I’m so concerned.”

***

...y’know, I thought up the “Eugene takes the twins to monster truck shows” completely on accident, but now I can’t stop thinking about it, like. Hilarious yet oddly wholesome??? For whoever was asking for more interactions between the side/supporting RotBTFD characters, I come here to deliver XD

Yes, Anna swears like a sailor because the only reason she canonically doesn’t is because she’s in a disney franchise XD She’s also older and wiser and just a little more cynical and not nearly as sold on the concepts of “destiny” and “one true love” as she once was XD I also find it extremely funny that I was combing over the dialogue and noticing some of Anna’s lines sounded more Hiccup-esque than I intended, and vice-versa...but then I realized that adopting someone’s speech patterns and mannerisms happens naturally when you date them/are around them a lot ;____; They’re absorbing parts of each other because they’re in love hELP

Amateur psychologist Mavis is so valid, I love her ;____;

For whatever reason I feel with an odd certainty that Hiccup would be a caramel guy. Also I was inspired by him ordering a pina colada milkshake in one of @lovestrucklyuniverse‘s fics and now I think he’s a pineapple guy too.

#hiccanna #hiccannamonth #hiccannamonth22 #hiccannamonth2022 #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #hiccup #anna #hiccup haddock #princess anna #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #fanfic #fanfiction #rotbtd #rotbtfd #modern au #college au #httyd #frozen #crossover

[the-cat-chat]

March 2, 2024

Self Reliance (2023)

Given the opportunity to participate in a life or death reality game show, one man discovers there's a lot to live for.

JayBell: I think this movie has a great premise, especially for a comedy. I like how the movie uses this game as the trigger to get Jake Johnson to live and feel again and stop accepting isolation as his status quo. I like how the game motivates him to gain closure on past relationships. On the surface, the potential for a good movie is definitely there. I unfortunately think it does fail in execution.

My biggest issue is the behavior of his family. I guess their dynamic with Jake Johnson's character is supposed to be funny, but it just makes them unlikable overall. I get that they think he's lying or genuinely having a mental break, but doesn't that mean they should be more concerned instead of flippant? Instead of trying to get him real help, they bring in this lady with the sole purpose to prove themselves right and him wrong. The whole movie I was just waiting for a satisfying "I told you so" from Jake's character in the finale. But their reaction in the end is also flippant in a way. I think it would have been actually funny to have Jake's character play bits from his episode in the show to his family in the finale.

The romance just doesn't do it for me in this one. Anna Kendrick does a fine job, but the big "twist" for her character is kind of stupid and makes her character seem a bit mean spirited or even clueless.

Finally, the "ninjas" in the game appear too often to give messages to Jake Johnson's character instead of trying to kill him. That just breaks the tension because they feel like less of a threat overall.

P.S. It's crazy that Jake Johnson's character doesn't even ask for a contract or a lawyer or even bring it up or anything. I get that it's an underground game but it's wild that he accepts the terms without any real contract that states he gets money at the end of this ordeal. I would've liked some more clarity before he agrees to the game in the first place.

Rating: 4.5/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: I just wanted to preface this review with some facts.

First. Back in the day- God strike me down- I thought Jake Johnson was so hot. Ok. I watched Let’s Be Cops too many times. Ok. Maybe it’s bc I thought he was cute and funny. Looking back the answer IS CUTE and FUNNY. Bc Self Reliance Jack Johnson is HOT. Ok. Dear Lord pls pray for my soul bc if I find one more man over forty hot I’m going to cry myself into a mental breakdown.

Second. Anna Kendrick. Somehow when I hear her name I think YES. She’s so funny. And I forget shhhee is funny. But I somehow forget every movie she’s been in. Twilight. Mr. Right. Pitch Perfect. The Voices!!!! And Scott Pilgrim. A Simple Favor?? NOW THAT THATS A HUGE VARYING SPECTRUM OF GOOD TIMES? Ok and none of those prepared me for this.

Finally. The premise. Awesome. Entertaining. Would you play? Blah blah blah.

Okkk. First. His family. Annoying. That’s all I’ll say bc if I acted like this and my family reacted like that. Wow. Okkk. Bc they should be concerned. Either he is nuts or people areeeee trying to kill him.

Second. The fact that the whhhole time I couldn’t decide is he nuts??? Or the game’s real. Which I get is the point but it drove me up the wall. And it’s a clever idea and then how he’s working through past trauma and then how you have to understand to survive and be self reliant on your own and all that good jazz with the point they are trying to make through his character. But it’s soo bizarre I don’t even care about the message of it.

And I’m just gonna leave it here about the money part. $145,000 over 200 and something months. Bc it’s a million Greenland $ and not US currency. I’d scream and sue. Like I’m am wanting to scream and sue right now. Uuuugggghhhh. That reallly just made me be entirely done with it all. And I get it he grew blah blah blah. I’m done. Totally done.

Rating: 2/10 Cats 🐈 (And yes 1 whole cat is bc I think he’s hot preknocked out tooth) I’m sorry.

#movie #movie review

[the-firebird69]

This judge couldn’t believe his eyes

I have no idea what the hell they're doing or why it would be so enthralling it's some middle-aged guy with a fat ass

Zues Hera me too this is ridiculous

Yeah stupid but that's what I'm doing

Ken

We're judging in high school or something yeah it doesn't make sense and judging about doing some stupid passing bouncing it's ridiculous really trying to get into Cheyenne and apparently he might be there it could be a waste of time cuz it looks like it now we heard what you said we're not stupid and I guess we are cuz we're saying it and we think you don't know for crazy we might be stupid

Trump

He says it saves him a lot of aggravation so I'm going to try to go there and take over I'm going to fight you Trump and everybody else and he's going to end up with it it's almost like he doesn't care he just wants to go to Utah and get his money and his people can take the stuff quite easily

Bja

Probably should have paid if somebody we wouldn't be putting up with all this but we don't do that and we just get rid of each other

Trump

We keep talking about it and doing nothing and deteriorating it's nothing he says that's fine once we're gone the pseudo empire will pay me something and they're going to be around and we're not he says because the empire is going to kick in as they already are it's pretty good assessment and we don't care anymore

Corinne

This is what a pile of losers are all about you people are stinking losers and you always have been you won't do anything for him to help him or to disuade or use stuff called Jasmine. And I've called people about it and said your fools and nobody cares even the empire sitting there watching it all go away why the hell are you doing that you idiots

Camilla

They kind of doing it on their own and they're stopping us doing things and getting in the way but he's right and you're right Ken is right he really needs a normal life and these people are a bunch of assholes to him complete assholes you said if he had a weapon and permission to be shooting it's really bad acid so you don't have to put up with a stupid assholes and then I'll go after the jobs of each other and you can see it with Angelina Jolie about 500 I'm die in the movie over and over same thing with Dr Manhattan. He has roasted incinerated in every scene like 20 times and people keep coming in and it's disgusting you people are f****** useless idiotic pigs and he said it too there's dumb as pigs you can't fix stupid that this this stupid they're not going to understand they have to do things and pay and we don't understand why we're not because we can make him do it and we're starting to figure out what people are saying we're not doing anything either

Empire

Just give me a minute I'll give you the order to start taking over no it was 20 years ago when everybody just started a rig a barrel roll with me and have to just sit there and wait like 20 minutes to get a sandwich instead of two so I understand what I'm doing I'm taking advantage of you sitting here blabbing about it doing nothing treating me poor because I must

Zues

I can't stand you people you want to talk about your own death and how you can fix it and you just don't do it and you don't really seem like you want to everyday who the hell cares about you losers you want to leave and die go leave what a pile of s*** these people can hardly stand up in the morning or sit up and they're useless

Hera

We have some issues here basically these people are useless and we need to get rid of a lot of them in order for our son to survive

Thor Freya

Olympus