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carolmunson · 2 years

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bad blood (part three) (stella's version)

The Finale. (18+)

(ROCKSTAR!EDDIE X ACTRESS!READER) (@ROLLERGIRLWORLD ’S BOXER!STEVE AND LIBRARIAN!READER CROSSOVER) READ FROM LIBRARIAN!READER’S PERSPECTIVE HERE (PT. 1) and HERE (PT. 2) and HERE (PT. 3)

WARNINGS AND SUCH: a whole lotta angst, blatant cold shouldering to a partner, swearing, discussions of controlling/abusive behavior, implied smut, brief daddy kink reference, blood mention (on a fat lip), swearing, all around just sad lol sorry

You emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around you, your wet hair dripping onto the plush carpeted floor of the bedroom. You go to the dresser inside the walk-in closet, plucking out a pair of briefs and sliding them on over your freshly moisturized legs. Eddie was under the covers, looking softly at you while you reached into one of his opened suitcases for a t-shirt to wear to bed. “The ‘75 Ozzy tour shirt is on the bottom left,” he said, “You could’ve asked, now all my clothes are gonna get wrinkled.”

“You should’ve just unpacked,” you chided, “Then I wouldn’t have to throw everything around.” You found the t-shirt exactly where he said it would be and slipped it on, your skin peeking through the holes in the fabric, turning to the bed.

“Also, your clothes were already wrinkled,” you smirked, sliding under the covers next to him. He instinctively turned to put his arm around you but hesitated, swallowing hard while he retreated.

“Can I hold you? Is that okay?” he asked gently. You nodded, turning your bedside lamp out. The city twinkling into the windows being the only source of light in the room. You feel Eddie’s hand smooth over your ribs, down over your stomach, and rest on your hip. He takes his time while he does this, savoring every moment he has against your skin, his chest up against your shoulder. His hand splays over your hip, gripping upwards so you end up on your side next to him, face to face.

“Just wanna look at you,” his voice dropping down an octave with sleep, “You can go to sleep.” Your eyes drift closed, weighed down from your crying earlier and your body sinks into his, legs slotting together. You feel his lips press warmly against your forehead, the click of the kiss echoing in the quiet of the room.

“I didn’t like his hands on me,” you murmured into his chest, “I don’t like how he touched me.”

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie did know. He saw your face when Steve’s hands slipped to your waist, mean and indelicate. Your soft frown lines peeking out, your gulp when he pressed his chest to your back. It wasn’t that Eddie was just jealous when Steve touched you, it’s that you were in a position that made you feel used. Eddie only grabbed you like that when you asked, when you played pretend – when the ball was in your court.

“I only want you to touch me,” you say, sleep taking you with it slowly as your breath steadies. He feels your arm slack over him, knowing you’re in that sweet spot between dreaming and awake and he doesn’t want to lift you from it. He’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep, knowing you’ll talk to Libby tomorrow and know the whole truth – maybe he can fly out before you come back. Maybe he should just grit his teeth and bear it – he can’t keep running away from fucking up anymore. He doesn’t want to keep leaving you in the dust to pick up the pieces on your own – but he doesn’t want you to leave him in the dust either.

The next morning you wake up early and go to the hotel gym, running on the treadmill with vigor while Eddie snored noisily in bed. When you got back, covered in a sheen of sweat, he was on the phone at the desk in the living room, pacing back and forth.

“Thaaat’s great news, Simone,” he grinned into the receiver. You cross your arms while you look at him and he tosses a wink in your direction.

“I’d love for the new trainer to be a woman. If you don’t mind going that extra mile,” he explains, “Feel like it’ll get her more connected to the role, y’know? She’s dealt with enough masculinity.”

“Love that we’re on the same page for this,” he says, nodding – the dimples in his cheeks deepening while his smile gets wider.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let her know. I’ll have her call you,” he continues.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh – yes they’re signed.”

“Of course - yes. Okay. I love you, too. Kisses! Bye.”

“Oh, okay! No, I didn’t forget.”

“Okay…okay…yes…kisses again. Bye, Simone.”

He hangs up the phone and you roll your eyes. Eddie and Simone were like two insufferable stage parents together, they might as well be co-managing your career.

“Good morning,” he sing-songed, sauntering over to you to press a kiss on your cheek as his hands find your hips, “Steve’s out.”

“Let me guess, you asked him to be let go?” you said with a tight smile.

“Artistic differences, baby,” he shook his head, “It was everyone’s decision – don’t worry, he’ll still get paid.”

“No one asked for my opinion,” you said, your arms still crossed under your chest.

“It’s okay honey, daddy got it taken care of for you,” Eddie smirked, “You know it was the right decision anyway. Did you wanna see him again?”

“No, but…” your arms dropped.

“But nothing – you didn’t wanna see him, so you’re not gonna see him. Okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” you replied quietly. He tucked a knuckle under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him, he didn’t ask before he leaned in to kiss you – but he didn’t have to. You welcomed his lips on yours eagerly, something about his confidence when he was getting things together for you was electric.

“You going in to take a shower?” he asked, brushing his nose against yours. You nodded breathlessly while he pressed up against you.

“Can daddy join you?” his voice was husky, you could feel his erection growing in his sweats against you. You nod, his next kiss wet and hungry while he hoisted you up to carry you to the bathroom – fucking you with vigor while propped up on the sink. Eyes lust blown while he told you to look at his cock while he slammed it into you, reminding you that it’s all yours. A much nicer version of ‘Daddy’ than you’d experienced in a while.

After you both cleaned up in the shower, you looked at the clock and sighed while you got dressed in the bedroom.

“Getting close to your meeting?” he asked, folding up his clothes and repacking his suitcases.

“Yeah, I just –” you sigh again, zipping up a tight black track-suit jacket to match your spandex pants. Eddie marveled at the fact that even in leisure wear, you looked expensive.

“I kind of just wish I didn’t have to do this. Relive it all again today,” you mumble, looking in the mirror on the wall and slapping on a semblance of makeup.

“Well, they’ll definitely have to,” he said, coming over and sliding the day’s paper over to you. Splayed across the front page was a photo of Steve and Libby, clearly post fight leaving the gym. Steve’s eyes were hard and angry, Libby’s face contorted from crying – it looked bad. It looked like the video tape cover of an afterschool special on bad relationships. You let a breath out through your nose.

“Wow, you – you really clocked him,” you say, your finger tracing over Steve’s fat bleeding lip.

“I’d do it again, too,” Ed shrugged, kissing the side of your head. He went to take the paper back but you stopped him.

“I’m gonna take this with me. If you don’t mind,” you say, putting it on the dresser under your wallet. Ed shakes his head, going back to his suitcases while you start putting your purse together. When you got the call that your car had arrived, you quickly shrugged on your coat, in black this time – it felt like you were mourning anyway.

“It’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine,” Eddie said, getting into the elevator with you, peppering you with kisses while you flew down to the lobby. He held your hand while you made it outside, the car pulling up to the entryway – both of you savoring the lack of paparazzi at the doors.

He pressed a final kiss to your lips, “I love you, I’ll see you when you get back.”

“I love you, too,” you smile – unaware at the fear he felt as you stepped toward the car. Knowing that when you come back, you’ll know something different. You’ll know something more. Eddie pulled you back gently.

“And if you see that he’s there, you get right back in this car,” he warned, “I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

“Oh, relax,” you roll your eyes, pecking him before hopping into the back seat, shutting the door. You watched him watch the car pull away, waiting until you were a good distance before going back inside.

–

Your black boots crunch in the snow in the short walk it takes to get from the car to the door. The jingle makes you sick as the door opens and whatever nonchalance you felt before you left has faded away. Sure, you felt powerful after Eddie fucked you – but insecurity struck you hard in the chest when you spotted the back of Libby’s head. Why her? You maneuvered over to the booth, only taking your big black sunglasses off once you sat down.

“Hi,” she says, her voice weak and small. You blink, waiting for her to say anything more – watching as she nervously puts her hands over her hot chocolate, an untouched cup of it sitting at the center of the table.

You speak in a voice that isn’t your own, but a media trained darling’s with a body full of secrets, “Hi.” She gestures toward the hot chocolate in the middle of the table, “I, um, got you one.”

“I can’t stay long,” you say as you reach for it, taking the cover off to let the drink cool down. You don’t know why you tell Libby you can’t stay long, it’s a lie, but she lied – so it’s fine. It almost felt good to make her sweat a little.

She nods at you and you can feel her fear radiating off of her. It’s validating to watch her tremble in front of you instead of crying over boys fighting over them. Boy, did Steve and Eddie need to make all of this about themselves. Libby struggles to find her words at first, her mouth opening and closing.

“Oh, um, okay. I just…I don’t know what Eddie told you, but…I’d like to tell you my side of the story…if that’s okay.” You nod, you couldn’t wait to hear it. ‘My side of the story where I kissed your future husband.’ You finally felt mad at her, mad at Eddie, mad at Steve. The embarrassment had faded away now, instead it was just pure unbridled rage. Thank god, you were an actress. You watch as she tears at the cardboard sleeve of her drink – you want to smack it out of her hand so she’d look at you while she tells you the truth.

"Steve and I…we got into this big fight. He was being awful —he was…violent and angry and mean. We were saying such terrible things to each other, and…I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him we needed time apart.” This doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, this was expected behavior from what you’ve seen of Steve.

“Anyway, we just kept yelling and fighting and…he threw a glass. Just,” she throws her open palm over her head to recreate it, “…went right past me, you know? It was the scariest moment of my life. Well…I guess until yesterday.” You have no idea, you think to yourself. Her eyes flit up to meet yours but you don’t smile, you can’t find even a hint of warmth in your body outside of the anger bubbling in your belly. Not only did your friend kiss Eddie, but your friend’s psycho boyfriend did the one thing abusers do before they start beating their spouse. You wish you could beg her to leave, but once you realize she didn’t leave after Steve berating you in Malibu – there was no chance. Anyone was fair game for Steve, and she’d always take the fall.

“Mikey put me up in a hotel room, and his girlfriend took me out the next night. Said she wanted me to get a taste of the "single life,” in California,“ she says, "Ended up ditching me a few minutes in, and that’s when…Eddie saw me. Invited me up to VIP.”

Very Eddie, especially when you first started seeing each other. He’d scope you out at the clubs from VIP, waving to try and catch your eye. ‘Hey! Hey, princess! Where you goin’? Your prince charming is up here!’ He’d shout over the booming music, always a little smug when you’d end up on his lap on the couches. His hands would sit protectively on your waist and hips while other guys flowed in and out of the section. Lips brushing the sensitive spot between the nape of your neck and your shoulder, but never kissing. Snickering when you’d shiver on top of him.

“We got to talking and…I don’t know, it’s like he knew. He said that he could,” she hesitates, but you know she’s going to say something that he said that was horny and gross. It’s in his nature to be a little disgusting when he’s at the club, “He said that he could make me feel better. And…in that moment, I didn’t wanna feel anything.” You lean your chin delicately on your hand, waiting for her to say it. To fully confess.

“So…we kissed,” she continues, looking down at her legs. You think she’s going to start crying, but instead her lips move to keep going, “And…”

“And?” you ask, a sharpness in your tone that wasn’t there before. There was an and? Eddie hadn’t mentioned anything past kissing. You watch her wince and you almost want to smack her for acting all nervous in front of you when it was clear she wasn’t nervous the night she saw Eddie at Glow.

“And…we went somewhere more private. A bathroom. We, uh…I wanna be honest, Stella…there was some wandering. Grinding,” she explains meekly. You can see embarrassment on her face while she says it, but almost a glint of fondness. Like she liked it, and that’s why she feels so bad.

“So were you planning to fuck my husband?” you ask, your voice sliding back to neutrality. He wasn’t your husband, but he might as well have been, “You were gonna fuck him in the bathroom and then what? Leave Steve for him?”

“No,” she said hurriedly, shifting uncomfortably at your question, “I—”

“Did you think because he was working on himself alone that he forgot about me? Did you –” you ask, a lump in your throat forming while you thought about it more. How could she?

“– did you think about how that would make me feel? Did you think about me at all?” you pleaded, your voice sounding more hurt with each word that poured out of you. Did either of them? All three of them? Had anyone taken a second to think about how you might have felt, what all of this might have done to you? Your heart fluttering with guilt and fear at any head of hair that looked like Steve’s, your disappointment when you had never heard back from Libby after Prada. How you spent so long wondering what you might have done wrong – how you could’ve been a better friend. Up at night when you left Eddie because he was the only thing that could put you to sleep, no one to really talk to about it without making them mad at him. “Even after all the horrible shit Steve said to me in Malibu? Did I deserve to have you both hurt me?” You wish you could have said all three of them. You watch Libby wipe at her face and look at the window, guilt pouring out of her along with her salty tears. Tears Eddie would’ve licked up if he could and your heart breaks at the idea. You think of how he fucked you on the counter of the sink earlier, you wonder if he wished it was her. “You don’t deserve any of this, Stella. You deserve…far better, and I’m sorry. I'm—I’m sorry for fucking everything up. I wanted to tell you, I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but…” she looks afraid to say what you know will be the next thing out of her mouth, “He wouldn’t let me.” Your eyes narrow at the thought of him barring her from speaking to you when she was just trying to do the right thing. Like this was his plan all along, to wait until she couldn’t possibly deal with the guilt anymore and have it all spill out. To get to have his cake of getting to put dents in your relationship, and eat Libby’s embarrassment too. To get every lick in he’s been thinking about since he found out. You almost wish he could’ve called and talked to you about it, to be a man about it – if he wanted to hurt Munson so bad that would’ve been the best way to do it. “I know how that sounds. Jesus —I see how it looks,” she continues, her voice pleading and aching, “But…I wish you knew the Steve I know. Maybe you’d understand why he is the way he is, you’d see how hard he’s been trying. I think..if you knew him the way I do, you might even like him.”

You scoff involuntarily. Like him? The man who taunted your lover about his addiction, who taunted you about his addiction, who shat on your relationship, who called you an enabler, who berated you for hours in the ring, who touched you for his own revenge? The same man who kept your friend to himself like a leashed dog? Who fucked her in the office loud enough for everyone to hear to stake his claim? There was no liking Steve. There was just abhorring him.

“I know he’s sorry, Stella. He truly is. For all of it. And I’m so fucking sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ve been sick over it, Stella, but…I can’t take it back. All I can do is tell you that I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll be sorry for it forever.”

You take a second to think, blinking at her. Shocked that she’s here, groveling and still apologizing on his behalf when he’s a grown man capable of doing it himself. But at the same time, you’re not really shocked at all. The anger and rage subsides – now you’re just numb. A little colder. A little more sure that the world just works like this, and despite everything, nothing you say or do is ever going to change it. The love of your life kissed another woman while you were separated for his wrong doing. The woman was someone you trusted, who still won’t leave a man who you couldn’t trust as far as you could throw him. A man who is so vile that Eddie, who is rarely violent outside of drug use, threw blows at him completely sober. This was all true, this all happened, and you sat there and watched it all happen around you.

“So, you cheat on Steve with my boyfriend of three years, and he…wouldn’t let you call and tell me? Wouldn’t let you call and apologize after he kicked me and Ed out of the house? And you…listened?” your voice sounds colder than you intended, but you can’t find it in your heart to care anymore.

“Stella, you don’t understand—” she started, but you don’t want to hear that. You do understand.

“—I think I understand just fine, Libby. But that’s the difference between you and I —Eddie doesn’t control me. I control me,” you echo the sentiments you had at the nail salon over a year ago. You wonder how much of it is true – if Eddie does control things in the underground of it. Switching out the wires without ever having to say something gruff the way Steve does. Maybe it’s more insidious and you don’t even know – no one would tell you otherwise. (No one except Steve, you guess.)

You see her try to think of something to say, but you’ve had enough of the conversation. Your body felt tired and heavy again, the smell of sugar and donuts was starting to make you sick. Before she can speak, you reach into your purse and slide the paper to her while you shimmy to the edge of the booth.

“I know a really great PR person, if you plan on cleaning up any more of Steve’s messes,” you offer, trying your hardest not to sound so bitchy – but there wasn’t really a nice way to say it.

You adjust your coat, slide on your sunglasses as a small headache forms behind your eyes, and tap the paper, “Good luck, Libby.”

“Stella,” she says while you begin to walk away. Your heart breaks again and you shut your eyes at her side of the booth, exhaling through your nose.

“I don’t hate you, Lib. But…I’m gonna need a lot of time before we can be friends again. I hope you understand,” you confess, your voice trembling softly. She was owed some type of closure – you didn’t want to be like Steve. You leave before she can say anything else, waltzing through the cafe and out into the cold – immediately hopping into the car. You realize you never even had a sip of the hot chocolate.

–

The elevator doors open to the room again and you see Eddie in the living room again, his luggage all set up by the wall where you stepped in. Eddie looks at you, and he knows that you know, his face is sad.

“So you heard the rest?” he asks, his lips are tight on his face in a grimace. Waiting for you to start yelling, to say something cruel, to hurt him the way you were hurting. But instead, you just nod. Kicking your boots off and hanging your coat up in the closet. You put your bag on the coffee table, sliding your sunglasses inside. You don’t even look at him as he starts to follow you.

“Do you hate me?” he asks, his voice quiet and full of shame. You shake your head no – and part of you wishes you could hate him, but you don’t. You love him so bad it hurts.

You brush past him to go into the bedroom and he lets out a sigh – not frustrated or angry, but wishing you’d say something, anything to him. He follows your footsteps and watches you in the doorway while you fiddle with the safe in the closet and his heart sinks. That’s where the ring is, and he knows you’re gonna shove it back in his hands and tell him to go fuck himself. He’s not gonna know what to do after, he might as well just die.

You pull out the velvet box and open it, the ring sparkling even in the low light of the curtain drawn bedroom. You look at it for a moment before plucking it out of the box and sliding it back onto your finger, leaving the velvet container on the top.

Eddie’s heart swells to see it back in its rightful place, but he frowns when you won’t look at him. He watches you admire it on your hand and suddenly knows that this was a power move. With the ring on, there’s no more room for fucking up. There’s no more chances. If he acts up or gets caught behaving badly, the press will have a field day because she’s spoken for again.

“D-do you have anything to say?” he asks, his voice rasping as it get caught on the lump building in his throat. Staring at his beautiful baby who wants nothing to do with him.

You look up at him, meeting his tear filled eyes and sigh, walking to the door. You hold it in your ringed hand while you stare at him.

“Have a good time in Indiana, Ed,” you mutter with a tight lipped smile before shutting the door gently in his face. Eddie winces when he hears the click of the lock.

“Baby…” he says, his hand resting warm on the door, “Baby please, talk to me.”

You don’t respond, your silent cries muffled by your hand while you lean against the door. The emotion pouring out of you like a dam that finally cracked. Again, no one to hold you but yourself.

You hear the elevator ding open and Tiffany’s voice chirp from under the crack in the door, “Mr. Munson, your car is here.”

You hear him sigh again, “Thanks, Tiff.”

He knows getting you to open the door is futile, you’re too stubborn, especially when you’re upset. You listen at the door while he hesitates, until finally the wheels of his suitcases making it into the elevator hit your ears – and he’s gone.

–

A week had gone by and luckily not too much press had come out about the fiasco in Canada. You were back in the Hollywood house, getting back to a regular schedule while Simone searched high and low for a new trainer. The last glimpse you saw of Libby and Steve was at the airport with Tiffany, and while you didn’t look too long – it was nice to see Steve looking beat up on your behalf.

You made your way around the kitchen, making your afternoon smoothie when your cell phone rang – electronic and annoying. You wanted to throw it in the fountain outside and watch it short circuit so people would stop talking to you on that 5 pound brick.

“This is Rink,” you say, a smile in your voice.

“Hey, sugar,” his voice felt like a warm cup of tea and the smile in your voice turned into a smile on your face, “Miss you over here in Hawkins.”

A flush dances across your face, “Hi, Wayne.”

“How’re you doin’ back in the house? It’s too big for ya to be there by yourself,” he chides.

“I’m okay, I’m fine. Getting back to business soon,” you say, your fondness for him oozing through the phone, “How’re you? How’s Trouble treating you?”

“I’m alright, got him fixin’ cars and trailers at the park while I work on the house. Never fun work in the cold, but I don’t really think he deserves to have much fun right now,” Wayne says, his gruffness makes you realize that Eddie is close by.

“He got too fancy playing guitar. He wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it hit him in the face, huh?” you laugh, so does Wayne. You both know it’s so far from the truth, but it’s fun to shit on Eddie with someone who loves him as much as you do. You hear a screen door shut behind him and Wayne’s voice gets soft and serious.

“I can tell he’s real beat up about this, Stell,” he confess, “He’s cryin’ every time he talks about it. He wasn’t a crier growin’ up, but when he did – you know it’s hurtin’ him real bad. He misses you.”

“I know,” you say, your heart starting to thrum with the threat of tears again.

“But I think you’re right to let him simmer by himself a bit,” he agrees, you normally do on most things, “He’s gotta earn a sweet thing like you.” “And I’ve been kickin’ his ass every chance I get,” he laughs again, it sounds aged and covered in nicotine. After a few minutes of chatting, you hang up – catching Eddie’s voice briefly in the background to ask for a different sized wrench. You can picture him in his old coverall, he’d shown you pictures. His hair tied up, covered in grease, his concentrated face while he disappeared under the hood or under a house. Your cheeks bloom with pink and you miss him. But it’s for the best, this waiting, all this trouble – you were both going to be so happy on the other side.

#eddie munson rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #boxer!steve #boxer!steve harrington #eddie munson au #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

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busyasabbey · 12 days

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Ugh why is hair over her face Libby and Cindy being a pairing sound kinda good? 😭

I mean, like I love that Libby really became her own person over the show, but I kinda really like the closeness of her and Cindy pre- friends with the Amigops?

Like don't get me wrong, I love Sheen and braids Libby. I have no clue why my brain was like "let's think about this!"

Like for someone in a f x f relationship, you'd think I'd have a lot more f x f pairings. You'd be wrong 😂

I mean, look at these bad ass bitches 👌🏻

#Rare pair?#Yuri #F x F #Cindy x Libby #Jimmy Neutron #jimmy neutron boy genius #Girlfriends

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rolaplayor101 · 3 years

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Part 3 of Ships I Had When I Was Young

Sheen and Libby were like ultimate relationship goals, like, they really talked about boundaries ON SCREEN, like!!! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨ he frickin WORSHIPPED her, bro! Like!!

Redbubble... Commissions open!!!!!...Please reblog!! DNI queer exclusionists and proshippers

#Rolaplayart #jimmy neutron #jimmy neutron boy genius #sheen estevez #libby folfax #interracial #interracial couple #bwmm #mmbw #nickelodeon #nicktoons #commissions open #taking commissions #art commissions #drawing commissions #sheen x libby #libby x sheen #fat art

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sketchy-the-changeling · 3 years

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since i take it you're not so much a cindy vortex fan, when compared to the jimmy x cindy "love arc", was the sheen x libby ship any better for you? (even if not shown on-screen as much)

Infinitely better.

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

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You Can’t Live Without Me - KNJ

Plot: Kim Namjoon has it all. Money, top pedigree, and a guaranteed future. But he lacks true affection in his life. He has no one to blame but himself because the one good thing he had, the one good woman he had, he tossed her aside. He tries to drown his regrets in alcohol. He tries to tell her one more time...

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: one-shot | break-up!au | angst | broken romance | exes

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female OC (Mileena)

Warnings: Heavy alcohol use, language, class separation, angst, heartache, interracial/intercultural relationship, suggested drug use

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,782

AN: Not gonna lie, I had mixed feelings about this. I know I was all gung-ho about it in the beginning, but now I’m just hurt for a variety of reasons. My intent was to have this be a hot and steamy “we-can’t-be-together-but-screw-it-and-screw-you-while-we-get-naked-on-the-floor” story, but it didn’t turn out that way. I can’t complain. My goal is to hurt feelings. Mine included. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Something.

Anything.

Preferably vodka.

Oooh yes, vodka vodka vodka.

That's what he desired at this moment. That was what he needed. Even a shot of gin would satiate his hunger and need for a drink. It was not like he could go back home and just order his pints and be done with it. The closest place to home was Seoul Tree, but Namjoon wasn't feeling that tonight.

Normally Namjoon would rely on his lovely tobacco infested cigarettes or the sweet taste of THC in his lungs and throat, but fortune was being a bitch and his last pack had been lost, having smoked his last joint that morning. Disappeared and vanished into thin air. Plus a bit of alcohol in his system was always a better fix.

Fingers groped in his pocket, sighing in defeat and disappointment at not discovering a smoke he may have hidden from himself. Instead, he was rewarded with a stick of gum.

Better than nothing.

Tearing open the wrapper, he stuck the gum in his mouth and made his way into the bumping, noisy Club Fetish.

Namjoon found his way inside easily enough in the dark. Honestly, he could really find just about any club in the world with his eyes closed if necessary - he snuck in them often enough when he was younger. He'd ditch classes at his boarding school back in Ireland. It was a hell of a place; one of few sanctuaries to him - almost like detention. Wow, was that kind of screwed up for him to think such a thing?

He sighed and passed a few bucks off to the bouncer, allowing him entrance before he was soon greeted by the noise and smells of the club. Drugs were afoot, and whiskey flowed like water as the potent sweat of dancers and grinding club goers reached his nares. Bass from the speakers pulsed across his body. They were calling out to him.

He was a regular at this place for the past couple of days. It showed in the staff's actions of grasping his wrists and guiding him to the nearest booth, fervently asking him what it was he wished to eat. To drink.

Asking for some side dishes for the time being, he looked at a familiar face and smiled. "Can you bring me some whiskey if you have any? Otherwise, just some vodka would work."

The waitress, Libby, gave him a look of concern, worried that the side dishes may not be enough for him to handle the alcohol content of vodka and that he shouldn't be drinking during a work night. However, Namjoon quickly waved off the woman's worries. "Don't worry, Libby, I can handle at least that much. And if you're intent on making sure I get fed properly, just bring me some of that kickass fruit and we'll go from there, yeah? Please?"

After hesitating for another moment, Libby disappeared in the back for a moment before returning with a bottle and glass. The glass of the clear liquid was set before him.

Finally.

Tilting his head back, the glass was drained and the familiar buzz warmed his soul. Thank God, he thought, smiling and pressing the glass against his face; the cool surface doing wonders to his warm skin. That's all he needed. Well actually he would have appreciated some more.

Soon, dishes of food were prepared for him and he partook of them happily. Libby continued to refill his glass faithfully and to ease the woman's troubled mind, Namjoon made sure to eat something every time he took a drink. It wasn't until he was half bleary eyed and into his eighth shot that an unsettling thought crept into his mind. A worm of worry taunted how he might turn out to be like his uncle. A drunken, pot-addicted madman without a care for the world and overly aggressive with his flourishes - caring more about his appearances with his colleagues and peers than his own nephew.

Well fuck him.

Namjoon had some tolerance to liquor as he often stole booze from his uncle just to escape the reality of living in that insanity; of dealing with the morbidity of having to acknowledge that his parents were dead and gone. Well, his father was still alive but he may as well have been dead as far as he was concerned.

He moaned slightly at the pitiful thoughts. He was not here to think about that. For God's sake, he went to America to escape from everything. Except now it seemed to be haunting him.

Only one thing could make this better. Well, several one things. But weed and company would always be welcomed.

Libby filled his glass again and as Namjoon chewed on a cracker, he sipped the shot of vodka down - umber eyes glossy and with a slightly hazel sheen - wet from the intoxication reflected in their depths. He stared down into the glass, lost in the swirls of liquid and neon lights dancing at the bottom of it.

He needed to learn to stop thinking. Thinking brought on these issues with family, with his ex and her new lover. She was sprouting thorns, the very same thorns he’d once taken the time to pluck away.

Yes. He needed to cease all thoughts.

More. Alcohol.

The sound of the doorbell ripped through the silence of the apartment. Mileena jumped from her bed, wielding her pillow in both hands. Her hair and sleeping shirt were disheveled and anyone who looked at her would easily have pointed and laughed.

Thankfully, no one was there.

The ringing continued, reverberating off the walls, and a series of heavy knocks followed suit. Dropping the pillow onto the bed, she trudged out of the bedroom and into the living room. Her eyes veered toward the clock on the wall, spying the time. It was an ungodly hour of the morning and she wasn’t having it. She didn’t care if it was an emergency either. Heads would roll.

Grasping the handle, she wrenched the door open violently. Mileena prepped her leg to shin-kick the person waking her up this early. It didn’t matter that it was her day off. She barely slept and every hour was precious to her.

On the other side was her ex, Namjoon. She pulled a disgusted face as he lazily rolled his neck to peer down at her. He reeked of booze. Her eyes roved over his appearance. He was dressed nicely, like he was out at the club or leaving a company dinner. His suit jacket hung off his shoulders and his tie was half pulled from his neck. Their gazes met and she sighed, folding her arms across her chest as he leaned heavily against her doorframe.

Life had a way of messing things up. It was no different now. They came from two different worlds. Namjoon was the nephew of some big-shot CEO. Mileena worked two jobs and attended night school. She was just starting down the road of obtaining her Masters when she met Namjoon; when he swept her unknowingly off her feet.

Was he a bad boy? No. He was a hurt boy who had too much time and too much money on his hands. He walked a self-destructive path and Mileena almost fell into the volcano with him.

Being called into the Dean’s office about her attendance record was the wakeup call she needed.

“Hey, Millie,” he rasped, his voice thick with his lack of sobriety, “busy?”

“I hate that goddamn nickname.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I was busy sleeping. You know, that thing that normal people with regular jobs do?”

He chuckled; that low, rolling sound that held a baritone timbre that always made her heart flutter. It was the sound that he made whenever he was going in for the kill. When he was getting ready to open himself up to showcase a sliver of vulnerability. The side of himself that he rarely showed anyone.

But Mileena saw it. It was the reason she fell for him all those years ago in the first place.

“What do you want, Joon?”

“What do you think?” he asked, his hand moving out toward her; to touch her.

She immediately took a step back, moving just out of his reach. His drunken grin fell from his face, replaced with a dour expression. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“You’re drunk,” she snapped, moving to shut the door in his face, “call a cab and go home. I don’t have time for this.”

The door rattled beneath her fingers at the sudden blow from Namjoon’s fist against it. She blinked away what little haze of sleep remained. Mileena slowly reached a hand up to run her fingers through her raven-colored hair, digging the pads into the back of her scalp. Releasing a slow exhale, she cast her stormy hues up at Namjoon.

“You need to leave.”

“Just hear me out, Mills.”

“Why should I?” She scoffed. “You smell like you swam in a vat of whiskey. There’s nothing you could possibly say that would convince me to take it seriously.”

“I can’t live without you.”

Mileena felt her jaw grow slack. She stared straight into his eyes, taking note of the surprise on his own face. Namjoon must have realized what he actually said at that moment - the internal conflict clearly showcasing itself across his visage. For a while, neither of them said anything as they lingered in her doorway entrance.

She waited for him to take it back. She expected him to.

Instead, he looked back at her expectantly. A cold feeling slowly washed over her entire body, chilling her spine as it continued sinking down to the balls of her feet. Her vision swam with the onset of tears and Mileena roughly swiped at her cheeks to prevent them from falling. She saw Namjoon moving, his hand reaching out toward her face. This time, she side-stepped out of reach - her own hand angrily smacking his wrist away from her.

“Then why aren’t you dead yet?” Mileena snapped. “Why are you still breathing, Kim Namjoon?”

Her words hurt him. She knew it did. But the damaged part of her, the part that was hurt that Namjoon came to her again like this, couldn’t feel a shred of remorse for her callous words or her icy tone. She didn’t even care that she would probably regret it in the morning.

All Mileena could focus on was damaging his spirit.

Namjoon bit his lower lip, his brows furrowing harshly. “That’s not fair,” he murmured, taking a step toward her.

She took a step back.

“I think it’s very fair!”

She could feel her heart jack-hammering against her ribs, but Mileena refused to relent. She wouldn’t give him an inch. Because already, without having to be told, she knew he would go a mile.

He moved faster than what should have been possible for someone who was drunk. In seconds, Namjoon was crowding her space and forcing her back into her apartment. Mileena watched him kick the door with his heel, slamming it shut behind him. She stumbled backwards, nearly losing her footing, but a sharp pain twisted around her wrist as Namjoon grabbed her before she could fall. Her body was pulled forward and she gasped when her chest crashed into his.

“Mileena!” he yelled.

“You never cared about me! About my life!” she screamed, trying to free her wrist from his hold as she pushed away from him. There was a sharp pop at her shoulder from the strain pulling at her arm. “Why should you, when your future is already guaranteed?!”

Namjoon blinked down at her. The angry expression he wore slowly began melting away. Mileena felt him loosen his grip on her wrist and she took advantage of the opportunity - yanking herself fully from him.

They were five feet apart now. Mileena could barely hear her own breathing over the drumming of her heart. Angry tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She shouldn’t have been entertaining any of this. She should have just threatened to call the cops on him. Overwhelming feelings of desire and inadequacy always threatened to strangle her when they were around each other; when he was this close .

Our lives can never meet in the middle, she thought sadly, feeling her lower lip tremble, and that’s why you ended things.

Gravity held her by the ankles, pulling the rest of her body down to the floor. She collapsed to her knees, her hands falling limply at her sides. All she could do was stare at the hardwood floor, consciously forcing herself not to look up at Namjoon. Mileena already knew. If she looked at him now, he’d see the truth behind her eyes. He’d catch the lie in her seemingly frigid words. It didn’t matter that she was dating someone else.

He would know that she still loved him.

“Please,” she managed to croak, the sound of her voice reflecting how tired she truly was, “just leave.”

There was silence at first. Then the subtle shuffling of feet before hearing her front door open and close - the hinges softly squeaking before the latch caught. Mileena quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape.

The silence returned and she knew, for certain, that she was alone.

Namjoon barely felt the people he bumped into on the streets and he didn’t hear their protests. The world was a blur of lights and muffled sounds. But none of it mattered to him. Not one single bit.

Because the world seemed almost colorless.

Traffic zoomed by and he felt his legs carrying him toward something more quiet and solitary. He needed to get away from all the lights. He needed quiet. He needed a place where he could think; a place where he could fill his head with nothing but thoughts of her.

Pain blossomed over his right knee as he ran into a park bench. He stumbled into the seat, his back popping from crashing into it. For a moment, his vision blurred and there was a soft ringing in his ears. The world swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors momentarily before correcting itself.

Pressing a hand to his forehead, he shook his head as his palm slid down to cover his eyes.

“I’m so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered, pressing the pads of his fingers against his skin.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know the reason they weren’t together anymore. Namjoon was a selfish prick who had home life issues that stemmed from neglect coupled with substitution methods in the form of “buying affection”. Classic, cookie cutter, spoiled rich kid. He played the misunderstood bad boy and the girls were drawn to him like a moth to the flame. Women filled his bed and faces changed as often as the cleaning staff changed the sheets.

Everything changed when he met Mileena. He wanted to change. He wanted to be better. He wanted to be better for himself because she made him see that there was a different way to do things. Throwing money didn’t gain influence. Behaving like an asshole didn’t achieve success or respect.

But Namjoon knew he was selfish. She wasn’t a dime a dozen. She was his unicorn.

And just like in fairy tales, his touch tainted her.

Days bled into weeks. Weeks into months. And then one year became two. The more he wanted her, the more selfish he became. The more he pushed, the more she pulled away. She was right. He didn’t care that Mileena was working and studying. He depended on her and demanded her attention way more than what was necessary. But she continued to give and give and give.

Until one day, she just couldn’t give anymore.

Namjoon collapsed under the pressure of his world. Its fake smiles, fake promises, and cold outer shell. Nothing was genuine, but that didn’t make it any less real. The truth was harsh and slashed at him from the inside out.

He heaved a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows onto his knees. With a heavy heart, he let everything settle over his body like a lead blanket. He’d fucked it all up and had no one to blame but himself. Because he wasn’t strong enough to truly fight for what he wanted. He was too scared to leave his privilege behind.

Mileena was right. He could live without her. He could still breathe without her.

But that didn’t mean that he wanted to.

A bitter laugh pushed from Namjoon’s lips as he slowly shook his head.

At least she was free from the shackles of his bullshit.

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transboygenius · 6 years

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Hetero ships I stan for

Ranma x Ukyo

Po x Tigress

Sally x Lars

Spider-Man/Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (and Liz Allen)

Sheen x Libby

Usagi x Mamoru

Judy x Nick (Not Jimbo’s Nick, nuh-uh)

Naruto x Hinata

Tommy x Kimmy

Helga x Arnold

and Easy Reader x Valerie (in case you don’t know who the hell they are)

#Sorta Jimmy Neutron related #But not LGBTQrelated #Straights couples that are better and more healthier than Jimmy and Cindy #I didn't plan to add Easy and Val since people hardly know or remember the original 1970s Electric Company #But OMG they are so cute!!!

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james-baeder · 6 years

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The Blacklist and Masters of Sex

send me a tv series and I’ll tell you:

The Blacklist

my all-time ultimate fave character: Raymond Reddington

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: uhm?

a character I used to like but now don’t: Liked Tom in the first episode only

a character I’m indifferent about: Cooper?

a character who deserved better: Mr Kaplan. Liz. Me.

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Ress x Liz

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Lizzington. I’m literally never ever getting over this

a cute, low-key ship: Y’know, early lizzington fics have a lot of Samar x Dembe and I’m? Really into it.

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: Wut

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: AHEM the resurgence of tom x liz

my favourite storyline/moment: Loved Red and Liz being all covert and trying to figure out Berlin/Tom’s deal. But also the perferction that was 3a

a storyline that never should have been written: The Mr. Kaplan thing. That fucking sucked

my first thoughts on the show: oooooohhhhh cooooollll

my thoughts now: THIS SHOW HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL

Masters of Sex

my all-time ultimate fave character: Stunted asshole William Masters

a character I didn’t used to like but now do: Lillian DuPaul but also Libby tbh

a character I used to like but now don’t: Uhm maybe Austin? He was really just like. Bad.

a character I’m indifferent about: Literally all of the children

a character who deserved better: Did Helen have to die??? NO!

a ship I’ve never been able to get into: Virginia x Dan. That sucked.

a ship I’ve never been able to get over: Bill and Gini FOREVER tattoo it on me

a cute, low-key ship: Betty x Helen forreals

an unpopular ship but I still enjoyed it: I have like. 1% interest in Virginia and Lillian but that’s it

a ship that was totally wrong and never should have happened: Also nah

my favourite storyline/moment: The end of season 2 when they’re both each other’s rock and those two soul crushing hugs

a storyline that never should have been written: Dan Logan can get fucked

my first thoughts on the show: OK when tf are these two getting together that’s literally the only reason i’m watching

my thoughts now: It should have gotten more attention because everything about it was wonderfully done. Michael Sheen and Lizzy Caplan stole my fucking heart and I’ll love this show forever.

#the blacklist #masters of sex #about me #Anonymous

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wendytestabrat · 6 months

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WHAT I THINK THE JIMMY NEUTRON CHARACTER’S BIG 3 ARE IN ASTROLOGY

alright let’s do this shit. this is a continuation of the post analyzing the sp character’s big 3 go read that one first. YOUR BIG THREE IS YOUR RISING, SUN, & MOON. THE THREE LAYERS OF AN ONION. YOUR RISING IS HOW YOU APPEAR, YOUR SUN IS WHO YOU ARE, AND YOUR MOON IS YOUR DEEP EMOTIONAL SIDE. and yeah i’m pretty sure all of their sun signs have been confirmed by the show bc their birthdays are all floating around on the internet LOL.

JIMMY:

yeah jimmy is a LEO rising. there's no doubt about it. the amount of ego and superiority this one kid has is fucking insane. he's a stubborn shithead who thinks he's always right and wants to lead and be in charge. he has rizz which is why he fools all the citizens of retroville into thinking he's a brave hero even tho all the problems he fixes HE fucking caused. but yeah he's actually a pisces sun bc jimmy is an oversensitive baby who runs on his emotions for fucking everything. his imagination is out of control and he gets all of these wildass ideas to make stupid ass inventions in retaliation bc a girl was picking on him at school without making an effort to actually have the inventions work for real LOL classic piscean nonsense (which is why i hate them). and down to the final layer of the onion the boy is an aquarius moon...i mean come on do i even need to explain why? even tho jimmy is an overly sensitive beta male he still sucks at relating to people emotionally and is way too fucking logical and aloof abt shit. all he cares abt is science. if he had the choice between some pussy and some physics formulas he would choose the latter.

CARL:

carl is honestly so boring i couldn't give two shits about him bc he has no development outside of being a comic relief. but bro is a cancer rising. carl comes across like a whiny ass baby that's gentle and fragile af but yeah he's actually just double earth. he's a capricorn sun bc carl is like realistic and down to earth af especially compared to jimmy with his retarded delusional ass pisces mind. carl can be the voice of reason sometimes when jimmy wants to do some dumbass shit and he'll caution him abt it & keep him grounded. carl likes to play it safe which is also why he's a taurus moon bc all bro wants to do is stay home and eat and watch the llama channel.

SHEEN:

yeah sheen is a gemini rising he talks way too fucking much about random ass shit LOL. he always has something interesting or witty to say and sometimes he'll just reference something out of nowhere. he also has way too much fucking energy and is ADHD af. but sheen is actually a scorpio bc he's rlly passionate and focuses really intensely on his ultra lord and action figure collecting hobby. he's also rlly caring & loyal af to the people he cares abt (like libby or his dad) and brave too and willing to put himself in dangerous situations to help his friends. in my personal experience i've noticed that scorpio sun tends to bring out the more lighthearted, caring, and sensitive side of scorpio while scorpio moons and scorpio mars are the more fucked up and vengeful types LOL. and yeah he's a sag moon bc sheen is SUPER fun, enthusiastic, and optimistic and always up for an adventure. he can be brutally honest too and there are a lot of moments in the show where he roasts the shit out of another character over some dumb shit they're doing. (yeah sheen is actually way smarter than he seems he just sabotaged his brain with cartoons and sugar as he said in that one episode LOL)

CINDY:

yeah cindy is an aries rising which was honestly the easiest fucking rising sign to pick LOL. she comes across EXTREMELY aggressive and physically strong. cindy is competitive af and has to be #1 at everything. but yeah she's a gemini bc that bitch is the world's biggest smartass and likes to be smarter than everyone and she runs her mouth constantly and never shuts the fuck up LOL. she’s a two faced bitch who pretends to hate jimmy to be cool even tho she’s obsessed with him. cindy’s intelligent af and always has something witty and clever to say and she can charm and manipulate the shit out of anyone bc of this. and she’s social af and has like 58389392 interests and hobbies and wants to be good at everything. but yeah cindy is actually a scorpio moon bc she’s sensitive AF and rlly caring deep down in an obsessive scorpio way and the bitch WILL fucking bite back at you if you slight her over something small. she’s possessive AF and gets jealous easily too like a typical scorpio too LOL.

LIBBY:

yeah libby is DEF an aqua rising bc the bitch is weird af and she comes across super aloof and in her own little world. i mean the bitch has headphones on like 90% of the time and is always listening to music and then when someone finally does get her attention she just rambles on abt some random shit no one cares about like how she's related to cleopatra or how she loves some random ass hip-hop group LOL (no wonder her and sheen ended up together). but yeah she's actually just a sag sun bc libby is EXTREMELY outgoing, fun & adventerous and she also has a temper if u mess with her and she doesn't have the patience for fake stupid bullshit like how she calls cindy out on her gemini ass for pretending to hate jimmy when she likes him. and then she's a libra moon bc libby is like the voice of reason sometimes in the group and the only sane sensible one LOL. she mediates A LOT of conflicts like when jimmy and cindy are fighting or sheen and carl are fighting.

#jimmy neutron #ASTROLOGYSHITPOSTS #jimmy x cindy #sheen x libby #JIMMYNEUTRONRANTGARBAGE

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