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#that everything happening these past weeks really is curious and it’s going to be interesting to see what happens next esp in potentially

delulujuls · 6 months

Text

papaya nails and everything nice | op81

hi! i dont really know how to comment on that one, i just get this idea from few videos where oscar actually admitted that he has very interesting relationship with his nails

anyway, is this original? i think it is. is this wholesome? hell yes, we do be supportin in this household. enjoy!

summary: oscar is having an unusual problem but it's nothing a manicure cant fix

warnings: none, i hope that painted nails on a boy arent a trigger

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver (ft. lando)

Oscar had been struggling to get himself together for some time now. As far back as he could remember, he considered himself as organized and put-together person who kept everything in check. However, for the past few weeks he had been the complete opposite—nothing seemed to go his way, he was incredibly scattered, sleeping poorly and was always last-minute everywhere.

This day was no exception to the rule that had persistently dominated Piastri's life for the past few weeks. Hurrying, he entered the garage running late and quickly started changing, not wanting to delay the start of training. His hair was messy, clearly having just detached from the pillow a few moments ago. Y/N observed her friend from the corner of her eye, seeing him struggle with unzipping his jumpsuit. Without hesitation, she approached him and eased his suffering, helping him with the zipper.

"Thanks," he mumbled, throwing a fleeting glance at his friend. Only then did Y/N noticed that Oscar's face was marked by several red streaks.

"Something happened?" she asked, clearly concerned. The recent strange behavior of Oscar had not escaped anyone on the team and she was no exception.

"I overslept, nothing new lately," Piastri casually replied, putting on the jumpsuit and fastening it around his neck. He brushed his hair off his face and only now did Y/N have a full view of his face, where red stripes were visible on his even paler-than-usual skin.

"Yes, that too, but that's not what I meant," she said.

Y/N took her phone and showed him his reflection. He furrowed his brows in surprise but took the phone from her and looked at his face. It was a fact, there were strange red marks on it. After a moment, he figured out why he looked like so this morning.

"They're probably scratches; I must have done them in my sleep."

"Scratches?" she scrunched her eyebrows and involuntarily glanced at his nails when he handed her the phone. Indeed, Oscar's nails could make many girls envious.

Y/N still had something to ask, but she was called to take her place in the car. She didn't have the chance to exchange a single word with Oscar until lunchtime. The couple sat in the cafeteria and as Y/N was familiar with both the old Oscar, whom she had known for several years and the slowly emerging new Oscar, she had never paid much attention to his hands or, more importantly, his nails.

"Has this happened to you before?" Y/N asked when they were both eating lunch and Oscar focused all his attention on what she assumed was his first eagerly awaited meal of the day.

"That I took two portions of rice with vegetables for lunch?" he asked with his mouth full, glancing at her in the meantime "No, honestly, this is my debut."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not asking about that. I mean, have you ever looked like you've just met Wolverine?"

"Still have those marks?"

Y/N nodded in response as she continued eating.

Oscar sighed, swallowing what was in his mouth and wondering whether to tell her about the embarrassing nonsense that had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Seeing her curious gaze he decided to confess to her an unusual fact about himself.

"I can't cut my nails."

Oscar threw this statement into the air without much ado. Honestly, at this point in his life where he was and with all the things happening, most of which didn't go the way they should, thinking about things like his unfortunate nails would be total foolishness.

"Oh, really?" she was surprised, but it was the kind of surprise when you hear some fun fact you didn't know before.

"You reacted like I just told you that there are twice as many kangaroos as people in Australia."

"It's quite an unusual thing, you're probably the first person I know who can't do it."

"I don't know if it's something to feel special about, although probably yes since for the rest of the day, I look like I do."

Oscar replied, pointing to his scratched face.

"What's worse," he continued, not interrupting his eating, "Even when I manage to deal with them, it takes a moment and they look the same again. They grow terribly fast."

"If you want, I can help you with them," she offered, glancing at him.

Oscar hesitated for a moment and after that he looked at her uncertainly.

"Could you?"

"Of course!"

Shortly afterward, Y/N's hotel room turned into improvised nail salon. She took her task very seriously, pleased that Oscar allowed her to do anything extra such as cutting his cuticles or giving his hands a massage with a cookie-scented cream.

"You have nice nails," he said when she massaged his hands. Her nails had short square shapes with a matte finish. The color was no surprise; it was papaya orange. "Do PR people dip their fingers in this too?"

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"No, I just noticed this nail polish in the drugstore and I thought I'd take it. It amused me that this color haunts me everywhere."

"Do you do your nails yourself?" Oscar looked at her with a slight shock. "It must be terribly hard and time-consuming."

"I've been doing them for a few years now and as you can see they are pretty simple, so with each time I get better at it."

She replied, taking a bit more cream. She noticed that he was silently looking at her hands; it seemed that he was particularly paying attention to her nails.

"I can paint yours too if you want."

"Mine?"

Y/N nodded and Oscar looked at her, shocked by how effortlessly she seemed to read his thoughts.

"Painted nails aren't for boys. "

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Anyone can have painted nails, Oscar."

"Zac would be pissed at me. PR people probably too."

"Fuck Zac, fuck PR people," she looked him in the eyes. "Everyone has the right to look how they want, so if Lewis can have earrings and tattoos, Alex could have red hair, then you or any other guy can have painted nails."

Oscar hesitated for a while, looking at her uncertainly. He was silent for a moment, thinking hard. However, he decided that it was time to finally do something contrary to the norm. He has stuck to the rules and regulations all his life, so it's time to make a small concession that won't harm anyone.

"Can you make them for me with a shiny finish?"

Y/N smiled and nodded, hurriedly getting off the bed and grabbing her bag with all the supplies. The smile on Oscar's face appeared with each painted nail, pushing away his fears and insecurities.

When the girl started finishing his other hand after more than an hour, Lando came into the bedroom without any warning, complaining about his friends and the fact that none of them had replied to any of his messages for over forty minutes.

When Norris noticed what he was witnessing, he opened his mouth in shock and his eyes almost fell out of his sockets. Both Oscar and Y/N knew their friend's unfiltered chatter, so they mentally prepared themselves for some comment from him. But beside that, he hurriedly took off his shoes and all excited sat on the bed, rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh my God! Will you do mine too?"

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 oneshots #op81 #formula 1 #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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sundaycentric · 6 months

Note

JING YUAN AND NEUV!!!!!

(I too am down horrendous for them)

(seperate) neuvillette & jing yuan x reader

content ★ headcanons, NOT PROOF READ!!, sfw, fluff

note ★ SO REAL!! i love them both sm its unreal.. anyways im just going to do some basic headcanons and drabbles bc im abt to go to a dance and i need something quick to post.. other requesters i am working on your stuff!!

NEUVILLETTE ★

He has no idea what it's like to be in a relationship. He has no experience whatsoever, besides for the in occasional movies Lady Furina will force him to watch with her.

Neuvillette isn't that dumb to take the movies as reality, though. So, he ends up just being a mess.

Before you start dating, Neuvillette will try to his best to hide his feelings. He often times pushes you away, but the sky darkens not soon after. He feels torn.

Neuvillette doesn't even understand his own emotions. He can barely process what he feels, let alone name it. He's confused and worried. He thinks it's love, but what if he isn't? He's never felt love to know what it's like.

It'd take some time for him to start working through his feelings. However, he still keeps his distance. He tries not to make it obvious he is avoiding you, but someone sees through him easily.

It doesn't take long for Lady Furina to find out what's happening, especially considering how observant she is to drama. She'll pester Neuvillette about it a bit, laughing at his reactions. Neuvillette tries to appear indifferent, but the sky's definitely different from what it was before.

For all her teasing, Lady Furina does genuinely care about Neuvillette (and you). She will offer some advice to Neuvillette, even though her experience in romance is just as limited as his. At least Lady Furina can work out her emotions, though.

Gradually, Neuvillette accepts your presence and allows him to take pleasure in it. A month ago, he was doing everything to stay out of your way, but now is he practically near you every time he can be.

He tries not to talk to you too much, though. He gets flustered. Although you might not be able to see it on his face, you might notice the sky becoming brighter—way brighter than normal when you talk to him.

He will never confess first. Well, unless he felt like he had to to avoid loosing you. Other that that scenario, though, he will keep quiet until you say something

Once you do say something and confess your feelings to him, Neuvillette will be so happy. His face might be a little smile, but there is no rain for entire week and lot's of people are getting sunburnt..

He will try his best to keep you happy. Neuvillette is very big on communication since he doesn't always understand what you feel. He does try though.

Neuvillette still doesn't talk much about himself. Instead, he prefers to listen to you. Even the small, mundane things you did during your day put a smile on his face.

Overall, he is very kind and considerate. Maybe even too much. He's scared of hurting you or pushing you away because of how he is. That hasn't happened yet, though. :)

JING YUAN ★

He definitely knows what he is doing. He's had some experience in the past, both watching and doing. Although, it is different when it comes to you.

Jing Yuan took interest in you. He was curious. Why? He doesn't know himself. He just likes you presence. You remind him of his finches, maybe even lion sometimes.

He learns as much as he can about you without being seen as creepy. He'll pay attention attention to you at events or when he is in public. When he catches you staring at him, he feels warm.

Eventually, he begins to come up to you. Jing Yuan prefers to take things slow, and really wants to come up with some sort of strategy to win your heart. It's a bit hard, though. He doesn't want to manipulate you, you aren't his enemy.

Jing Yuan tries to keep things in his control, both so he can spend as much time with you possible and just because he likes it. He will pay for your lunches, buy you things you like, pay for your trips. Jing Yuan has enough money, and he is willing to spend it all if you ask for it.

He'll slowly try to become closer with you. He doesn't want to push you away. After all, Jing Yuan has all the time in the world to wait for you. He only hopes you'll actually go to him.

Jing Yuan seems more unfocused at work now. He is usually not paying attention anyways (as he is sleeping), but it's becoming a bit worse now. Lady Fu catches on quick and reprimands him.

Jing Yuan, in his tired state, tries to excuse himself before Lady Fu gets angrier. He ends up slipping and saying your name. The two of them stare at each other before Fu Xuan starts scolding him again.

Fu Xuan is mad at Jing Yuan, yes, but she cannot deny that she cares about Jing Yuan. So, she might peek into the future to see if the two of you are together. She refuses to tell Jing Yuan what she sees, but she smiles as soon as he leaves.

Jing Yuan may be first to confess. He is fine with either. In the case that he confesses, he'll laugh at the way your face lights up. If you confess first, he'll find it funny how you seem a bit unsure of yourself.

He will reassure you with a kiss on the cheek before telling you that he loves you. Jing Yuan will hug you tightly while he sleeps and take care of anything you need.

He is like a teddy bear. :)

He is attentive, and he always knows what you're feeling. He might tease you sometimes, but he is ultimately very sweet and protective over you.

Yanqing definitely looks up to you as another parental figure. Good luck with that.

Overall, very nice to sleep on. He'll take care of everything he can for you and treat you like a precious gem.

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wineauntie · 7 days

Note

evie and mom surprising Quinn with adoption papers🥺🥺

OH I LOVE THIS! (This is one longggg blurb, basically a fic without all the formalities)

Also I wrote this in under 25 mins and it’s severely unedited due to it being 2am

universe masterlist

Evie was seven when she asked if Quinn was her real dad. Your smart girl knew she looked nothing like Quinn and that Quinn was her ‘Winnie’ up until she’d started calling him dad when she was four.

You’d never actively hidden the fact Quinn wasn’t her dad, but Evie had never been fully interested in the fact or conversation at all.

She’d popped the question in the car on the way to school and despite your preparation for the day you knew would eventually come, you found yourself hurriedly taking Evie to a small diner nearby instead of school that day.

The two of you had sat down with hot chocolate and pancakes as you explained that Quinn wasnt her dad by blood, but he was her dad by heart, and that’s all that really mattered.

Evie was curious, she asked about her ‘blood dad’ and why she had never seen him. You treaded carefully around the subject, cautious so as not to hurt Evie in any shape or form.

Evie’s biological father was a horrible man whom once told that you were pregnant, had broken up with you, told you he was sleeping with your best friend, and then demanded you got rid of Evie, or ‘it’ as he’d called her.

You avoided saying any of this to Evie, simply saying that “he wasn’t ready to be a dad and then he had to go away.”

Evie looked a bit confused and as you expected a wave of questions from her, she shrugged saying “Dad was ready to be a dad.” And then proceeded to ask for more pancakes, knowing you’d give into her every whim at that moment.

After another plate of pancakes later, and the two of you cuddled side by side in a booth Evie had yawned, and curled into you, her voice small and tired as she whispered “I wish dad was my actual dad.”

Your heart cracked at her defeated voice, but a niggling thought arose in your head. A thought that pestered you to the point of restlessness, to the point where the world ceased to exist outside of your little family.

You’d told Quinn what had happened that day and he supported you whole heartedly, even going as far as having a one-on-one conversation with Evie about it. You allowed the both of them to talk in private only hearing snippets like “you’re my kid, bug, no blood will change that.”

And

“I love you too, now why don’t you go grab a movie and you, me and mom can go watch it?”

You spent days upon days mulling over the thought that lingered and grew exponentially by the hour and before you knew it, it was two weeks later and once again, you were driving Evie to school.

“Hey, Evie?” You asked tentatively. Your sweet little girl’s head bobbed up and down with a small hum as you pulled over the car to face her. “You know our talk we had about dad not being your blood dad?”

“And that dad is my heart dad!” Evie excitedly added, her teddy bear, Ted, held in one hand as her eyes twinkled. No matter how old she got, the teddy gifted to her by Quinn’s brothers, always accompanied her in the car on the way to school and remained there until she was collected afterwards.

“Exactly,” You smiled softly, your face completely losing any tension at your girl’s words. “Well, how would you like it if Dad became your real dad…your legal dad?”

The thought had been floating around for the past two weeks and it hadn’t been the first you’d thought of it. What you had with Quinn was undeniable– the two of you had been together for five and a half years, almost six years and he had become so ingrained in every aspect of your life and being.

He loved you to the moon and back, his care and love shining through with everything he did. He’d even gifted you a promise ring a year ago, an act of complete and pure commitment to you and Evie. Your daughter had gotten a small, dainty necklace, that mimicked the design of your ring.

Quinn was in it for the long run.

He knew it, and so did you.

“My legal dad?” Evie questioned, sounding out the sentence like an intricate problem.

“It means that he’ll sign an adoption paper, saying that the world recognises him to be your actual dad, and not just your heart dad. He’ll adopt you.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Is that like what people do with dogs?”

You tilted her head at her question with a light laugh. “I suppose it is,” you shrugged.

“I like dogs…I want Dad to adopt me.”

And that was how you arrived at this very moment. It was the beginning of playoff season with the Canucks dominating their first game and Quinn playing incredibly.

The three of you had decided to have a nice family night with a dinner consisting of food you’d ordered in and a movie night, where the three of you would watch whatever Evie desired.

Evie was like a spring, bouncing up and down in her seat in excitement, glancing towards you every now and again. Your girl was smart, when you told her that you guys should surprise Quinn with adoption papers, she was all for it.

Quinn was chatting away to Evie and you all dinner, explaining the playoffs to Evie and catching up on the day with you.

Things were running smoothly under Evie eventually cried out and whipped her head towards you, unable to contain her excitement.

“Mom, can we do it now?!” She pleaded, her wanting eyes shattering any resolve you possessed.

“Do what?” Quinn paused his chewing and placed down his utensils, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Evie beamed at him as you handed a large envelope to your daughter. “What’s that, Bug?”

Evie, now holding the envelope, felt a sudden wash of doubt cross over her, her eyes flitting towards you in worry.

“It’s okay, my brave girl,” you murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Take your time.”

Quinn, unsettled by the sudden drop in Evie’s excitement looked ready to pounce into protective mode, with Evie wrapped safely in his arms. He remained quiet as you shot him a reassuring look, his gaze following Evie as she tread close to him.

“Dad?” Evie mumbled, her eyes pointed at her feet. Quinn felt his lips twitch up at the name. The name itself never failed to elicit the most glee-filled feeling he’d ever felt, and hearing it from Evie, his daughter, warmed his heart and soul.

“Yes, Bug?” He answered, his fingers lifting her chin carefully so that the two were looking at one another. His hand cupped her worried face, as he tried to rub soothing circles on her cheek. “Is everything okay?” He watched as Evie took a deep breath in before holding out the envelope.

“This is for you,” she explained meekly, glancing at you for support before focusing back on her feet.

“Me?” Quinn mused, cautiously taking the it from her. His fingers flipped open the unsealed envelope, pulling out a set of papers, neatly paper clipped together. His eyes scanned the first few words, which were big and bold across the top.

APPLICATION FOR ADOPTION ORDER

Quinn’s jaw went slack, his eyes immediately jumping to you, as you bit your lip nervously, urging him to react.

“You…me…you want me to adopt you?” Quinn’s raspy voice cracked as he refocused his attention on Evie.

“Not like a dog, but like my actual dad,” Evie supplied as if she was teaching him to understand it. She turned to you as you graced her with a smile for remembering what the two of you had talked about.

You didn’t often see Quinn cry. He wasn’t much of a crier you see. When he got upset, he got tired or quiet, so when tears tumbled down his cheeks you and Evie were lost in what to do.

“Oh no, we made dad upset,” Evie whimpered, looking at you in panic and devastation.

“No…no! I’m not upset,” Quinn choked out, his hands dropping the papers as he moved to fully face the small girl. “I’m just…I’m really grateful, Bug…this is, it’s just…thank you.”

Quinn captured Evie in a tight hug, her head burying itself into the crook of his neck as it once had whenever she was younger. Her own little arms had thrown themselves around his neck, clutching onto him as if he’d disappear if she didn’t.

You watched, with your own hot tears spilling over onto the cushion of your cheeks as your daughter hugged her dad. Watching the two together seemed to mend whatever your ex/Evie’s dad had broken inside of you.

“Mom, come join,” Evie’s muffled voice called out from its position. That was all it took for you to rush towards your family, enveloping they both in a tight hug. You watched as Quinn lifted his face, his reddened eyes, filled with love and happiness meeting your encouraging ones.

“You’re sure about this?” Quinn whispered to you and only you. He loved the two of you more than words could ever deny, there was no buts about it. He just wanted to be sure that you were one hundred percent certain on it.

You pressed your lips to his, feeling the saltiness of his tears against his plump lips before slowly drawing away to lean your forehead against his.

“I have never been more sure of anything.”

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fluff #nhl x reader #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #family is family universe #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #vancouver canucks

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eichornia · 3 months

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So I had a thought:

- It's 2024. Daniel is back in the grid, his hand is completely healed, his curls are thriving. He feels confident again and he's happy. He's in a low dose of antidepressants and the therapy does wonders. 2022 seems really far away.

- He's starting the season in a good mood, flirting his way through the paddock, joking with the Netflix boys. It's Thursday and they're in Australia. Australia, baby, his favourite place in the world. His family is coming to see him race, Isaac being old enough to really enjoy being in the garage. He's curious and funny and Daniel misses him a lot when he's away. He loves Isabella too, she's his princess. But she's not really interested in the sport (yet) and she's in a hardcore Bluey phase. So Isaac asks him if he can go with him to the garage and when they're there, he asks if they can go visit the Red Bull garage because he's obsessed with the RB and to be honest, with Max too. Just like his uncle, Blake likes to say. Usually that makes Daniel to show his karate moves but not for long because Blake is a scary motherfucker sometimes even if he hides it well.

- So to the RB garage they go. They chat with Christian for a bit (Do you want to run for us when you're big, Isaac?, he asks) (And Isaac says yes, yes, yes) and they dodge Helmut when he appears in the garage because he's scary and not in a nice way. (Isaac says he smells like moths and Daniel has to fight really hard not to laugh) and then they spot Max. He's talking with GP but when he sees them, he waves smiling and he talks with Isaac like he's an adult (and even invites him to look into the car and explains to him everything, twice when Isaac asks again about some things).

- And yeah, Daniel has feelings. Like, he knows he had feelings for Max since... Well, a long time ago. He knows but he was scared of being bisexual (thanks Josh Allen for fixing that) and older than Max, and he was scared of being reciprocal because yeah, like Max was his teammate? His hot, younger, faster teammate.

- But now Daniel is (even) older and has learnt to not give a fuck about what people thinks. And yeah, watching Max with his niece? It's doing things to Daniel's heart.

- So yeah, Australia is awesome, racing in Australia is even better, getting points in Australia is a dream come true after these past years. He's high on endorphins and that's his excuse to intercept Max when he's on his way to his driver room after the podium. (Hey, hi, Maxy, Maximus, I was thinking, like, congrats in the podium, by the way, good trophy and all that, but I was thinking of asking you if you wanted to come to Perth?)

- The craziest thing to happen is that Max says yes. No doubts at all, just his big smile that makes his eyes go small and a 'yes, Daniel'.

- PERTH. It goes like this: Max comes to the farm, falls in love with Daniel's house, Daniel's falls in love a bit more with him. And Max knows nothing about it because Daniel is a bit immature but he's not stupid (not about this anyway) and Max is one of his best friends and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship.

- So he says nothing and he enjoys having this week with Max in his home. They race dirt bikes, they cook together (well, they try) and they play with Isaac and Isabella when they come to visit. And then it's Sunday, a whole week has passed and they're going to fly together soon to Japan. They're enjoying the hot tub after having a nice dinner and Max is laughing at Daniel's impression of Toto and Daniel feels like his chest is filled with helium, feels high, lucky, funny. And that's his excuse to kiss Max.

- Max doesn't stop laughing for a second even in the middle of the kiss and then he stops moving and breathing and Daniel is panicking a bit. Because he knew it would ruin everything, this thing he feels for Max. But then Max's hand is in his neck, drawing him against his lips again, magnets in the dark.

- So yeah, that's a thing they do now. Making out. Heavy petting. Every time it happens, Daniel wants to flail his arms, run in circles, scream like fucking Tarzan. It's like getting a podium over and over again, it's like champagne bubbles getting trapped in his chest. Max kisses him like he races (point-blank, non-stop, making him weak at the knees) and he likes to make Daniel straddle him and he likes to caress his thighs, draw his tattoos again, the three against his lips before kissing each of his fingers.

-It makes Daniel effervescent with happiness and when they're racing in Japan, he's fourth in the race, almost a podium and he comes back to the garage and hugs everyone and laughs and almost cries because he's coming back, baby, he's so coming back. And he goes back to the hotel and doesn't go to his room, he goes straight to Max's room and he doesn't stop to think because he's going to chicken out otherwise.

- And he's on his knees.

- He's on his knees for Max, and he puts his forehead against Max's tummy and kisses his belly button and blows a raspberry against his hip and Max pushes his head away, silly-laughing, and Daniel says let me, let me, please, I won't do it again, Maxy, but let me and Max touches one of his brows and touches his hair and then brings him against his body.

- And kissing Max is like getting a podium but blowing him is getting second place, getting drunk, getting sweaty, getting high-high-high.

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

You can read the continuation here.

#f1 #maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #so yeah #not beta read #not finished either #im just leaving this here because i need it to leave my mind just for a second #otp: maxiel #my fic

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imbestforyou · 11 months

Text

you belong with me

pairing: jj maybank x bestfriend!reader

summary: reader is in love with jj, but jj’s dating another girl…

warnings: unmutual pining, minor profanity, poorly edited, cliffhanger (sorry i got lazy), short pt. 2 if people want it idk, little angst and fluff

approx. reading time: 8 minutes and 30 seconds

writing inspo: you belong with me (taylor’s version) by taylor swift

masterlist :)

“wait what?” i exclaimed. i was sitting in sarah’s room listening to her talk about her day at the beach with the pogues.

“yes i swear! he brought emily there and had his arm wrapped around her and everything! didn’t even surf, which is crazy for jj.”

“so he must be serious about this girl, right?” i sighed as i layed on her bed. i couldn’t believe it. jj maybank? in a relationship with a kook girl?

“i mean i don’t know much. but if i’m being honest, he didn’t seem that interested in her.” she talked as she curled her hair for her date with john b. i stayed silent. i couldn’t believe it.

————————————————————————————

“hey y/n!” i stopped in my tracks. i knew that voice all too well. and it was the voice of someone i had been ignoring for the past two weeks. i turned slowly to face him.

“hey.” i said looking at the floor. purposely avoiding eye contact. it wasn’t that i didn’t want to see jj, i did. but it hurt to know he was dating someone else. especially emily, someone who was drastically different from me, from all the pogues to be honest.

“i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever. what’s up with that? sarah told me you’ve been sick, but i told her that was bullshit. you haven’t gotten sick since like the 3rd grade.” he grabbed me by the shoulders playfully. i look up to see emily staring at me from the bar.

“uh yeah. i don’t know what happened. probably got it from my parents after they came back from new york.” it was a lie. my parents hadn’t been to new york in ages.

with emily giving me a death stare and jj touching me, i was feeling claustrophobic and a little freaked out, “anyways look i’ll see you later. i have to get home and get some homework done.” i turn around and start walking before he can begin a sentence.

————————————————————————————

you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

she's going off about something that you said

‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do

my eyes were closed while i sunbathed on the beach before i was interrupted by another call on my phone.

jj <3 - 3 missed calls

jj <3 - calling now

“hello?”

“y/n? y/n! hey how- how are you doing?” he stutters a bit.

“hey i’m doing fine? are you okay? you sound a little weird.”

“i’m good just pissed at emily.” he huffed.

“ahh emily. so how is your new girlfriend?”

“she’s pissed at me for some lame joke i made with pope. and she called attacking me and shit because i was being a douchebag or something.”

“ha what else is new.” i joke. and he laughs which stops my heart for a minute. i pause then ask,

“what was the joke?” i ask, curious to know why emily would be so upset.

“i told her the dress she was wearing looked like a hospital gown and she got all pissed. wasn’t even a good joke…” he mumbled.

i laughed, he was right. it wasn’t, i could think of thousands of jokes better, but i could tell it must’ve been an attempt to make emily and pope laugh.

“i guess she doesn’t get your humor.”

“guess not…” he sighs then starts again,

“hey l was wondering if you wanted to hang out later. i don’t know i’ve been feeling really distant from you recently.

“yeah i’m sorry about that, um so like with the pogues or…?”

“nah just yo- sorry hold that thought emily’s calling me and i really don’t want to make her more mad. i’ll call you back.”

he never called back.

————————————————————————————

im in the room, it's a typical tuesday night

im listening to the kind of music she doesn't like

and she'll never know your story like I do

a week had passed and he still hadn’t called me. i wasn’t even trying to ignore him anymore, he just was never around. school had ended and summer break had finally begun. and still no call.

as i layed on my bed and sang along to “the blue” by gracie abrams, sarah tries convincing me to talk to jj.

“why don’t you just call him? see what’s up? it’s not like him to be this distant. it’s with john b too, hasn’t been to the chateau recently. and you know how his dad is.”

“a shitty father is what he is.” i spit out. even though i was irritated at jj for not even trying to keep any communication between any of the pogues my hatred for luke will always be worse.

i sit up, “look he’s probably fine and with emily. i’ll talk to john b to get him to chill. but honestly i don’t think jj wants to keep contact with any of us. if he wanted to he would have.”

“i don’t know, you should call him. emily has like tied him up all for herself. have you noticed that?”

but she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

shes cheer captain and im on the bleachers

dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find

that what you're looking for has been here the whole time

“i mean i think everyone has. or that fact that she’s nothing like any of us and exactly like the type of girl he would make fun of.”

“a kook princess, like what i was.”

“exactly. i don’t want to judge him but why would he go into a relationship with someone who he so obviously doesn’t like?”

“something is up y/n. go figure it out.” she grabbed my car keys and pushed me out the door.

————————————————————————————

standing by and waiting at your back door

all this time, how could you not know, baby?

you belong with me, you belong with me

i take a deep breathe before knocking at his door.

no response. i knock again.

“hello! anyone home?”

“shut the hell u- y/n?” jj opens the door.

“hi- hey i just came to check on you. can i come in?”

he turns back, no doubt looking for his father. “probably not the best idea.”

“yeah- yeah uh wanna go to mine? so we can talk?” he nods and shuts the door behind him. he doesn’t make eye contact but all i can do is stare at the blood on his face and knuckles.

oh, I remember you driving to my house

in the middle of the night

im the one who makes you laugh

when you know you're 'bout to cry

and I know your favorite songs

and you tell me 'bout your dreams

think I know where you belong

think I know it's with me

i unlock my house from the back door to hopefully not make as much noise. my parents couldn’t find out i was sneaking in a boy in the middle of the night. i hurriedly close the door to my room and turn to him.

“are you okay?” i spill out.

“yes.” he’s quiet, that’s not the jj i know.

“you know you can talk to us, right? like any of the pogues, we’re here for you. i’m here for you.” i move closer and touch the blood on his forehead, and he winces. his head is sticky, like if he had been sweating. and i can’t decide whether it’s because of the humidity or if he was fighting with his father. probably both.

“luke?” he just nods. my heart breaks for him. i grab his hand and let him sit on my bed. i grab my first aid kit and rubbing alcohol and get to work on the blood and bruises on his hand and knuckles.

we sit in comfortable silence. but it was mostly me waiting to see if he was going to talk about his dad.

“i didn’t want to ignore you guys.” he speaks so low, i almost couldnt hear him. i kneel down so i can look at his face.

“then why did you?”

“i- i told my dad something, stupid i know. but he blew up on me a couple weeks ago. told me his boss had a nice daughter named emily my age. said if i could get with her, he’d get more money or some shit. i don’t know i guess i wanted to make him proud. so i- i started dating her. kept fucking it up and he would beat the shit out of me. didn’t want you guys to see me like that.”

i sighed. my hands were holding his for comfort. something we’d done since we were kids but felt really unfamiliar now.

“what’d you tell your dad to make him set you up with emily?”

he coughed, “told’m that i loved someone.”

my heart dropped for the second time in two months. why did i even think for a second that’d i’d have a chance? i told myself we belonged together.

“oh.” i got up and released my hands from his. suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. i cleared my throat.

“um well, i have some sleeping bags in my closet and if you want you can sleep in my bed or um whatever feels more com-“

“i told him i loved you.”

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cheeriecherrymain · 8 months

Text

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #viktor blurb #viktor reader insert #arcane reader insert #i am slowly rising from the dead whoops

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wenellyb · 3 days

Text

Random thoughts on Bucktommy and Buddie

Please bare in mind that I'm only sharing my personal opinion and that I'm always open to discuss.

The discussions I've had over the past couples of weeks have been very interesting and I wanted to add my 2 cents.

Before season 7 episode:

I'm a causal viewer of 911 and I'm also on Tumblr so of course, I know Buddie, but I've never really shipped it... I can understand the appeal and I think the ship has potential but I never felt like the writers ever intended to go there. And I'm not a big fan of non-canon ships.

If they had gotten together, however, I think that I would have enjoyed it.

What has always bothered me was the behavior of some Buddie shippers who would complain about queerbaiting on the show, when there were already several Queers characters in it and one character (Hen), who's part of the main cast. I always got a weird feeling that those shippers didn't care about Queer characters if they weren't White. There is also a spinoff of the show, 911 Lone star with Queer characters who are also part of the main cast.

To me, the fact that Buck and Eddie never got together was a writing decision, not queerbaiting or anything like that... the writers had decided this wasn't the way to go for Buck and Eddie's chatacters, because if they had wanted to write a storyline between them, they could have.

I've seen a lot of people being happy about Buck being confirmed as Bi, and I get it. But to me, it was confirmed he was bi in the 911/911 Lone Star crossover when TK told Buck he had a boyfriend after Buck asked him out. I was just waiting for a storyline to confirm it. Obviously, I always thought the storyline would involve Eddie, but I was wrong.

After Season 7 Episode 4:

I follow some 911 accounts so I knew something was happening before the episode aired and I saw a preview of Buck seemingly being jealous of Eddie leaving with Tommy and I thought... this is it, this is where the writers are going to confirm Buddie. Buck will realize his jealous and realize he has feeling for Eddie or something like that.

I was very curious so I tuned in for that episode and imagine my surprise when I realized at the end, that the jealousy wasn't about who we thought and all this time the writers had been planning a storyline with Tommy.

So to me, it doesn't look like the writers are planning a Buddie storyline. Otherwise they would have prepared it gradually after the Buck and TK's discussion.

That doesn't mean it won't change in the future, writers and showrunners can change but I have never noticed them introducing a storyline that could lead to a Buddie relationship.

Everytime I see a post "proving" Buddie, it's always showing something friends or best friends do (hugging, being affectionnate), even Eddie making Buck Chris' legal guardian is something a best friend could do.

I'm not saying that they couldn't be romantic in another context, but there hasn't been any indication that the writers are planning a romantic plot for Buck and Eddie.

The writers decided to go there with Buck and Tommy. They're treating their story like a romcom, with the kiss, the hearteyes and everything. Buck is obviously into Tommy and being ready to tell the world about him.

That's the storyline the writers have decided to give us and it's a very nice one.

I know a lot of people are expecting Tommy and Buck to be temporary but to me that's wishful thinking. It wouldn't make sense to have Buck invite Tommy to his sister's wedding just for them to break up a few episodes later. If a breakup is what the writers had in mind, they would just set up another normal date.

Shipping goggles are ok, I have other ships for which I have shipping goggles on and for which I'm not very objective.

What's not ok is trying to ruin the fun of Bucktommy shippers who are trying to enjoy this beautiful storyline but can't go in the tags without seeing a post about the ship's impeding break up.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #buddie #911 spoilers #always open to discuss this as long as you're not urde #rude*

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zoe-oneesama · 1 year

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Hi Zoe, I saw a few asks before about a physical edition of Scarlet Lady, I'm curious how you are planning to go about it? For now I saw you talk about volume one, are you planning to make one season = one volume? Will there be any changes to the current comics? (Like color, bonuses etc.) thank you in advance!

Yes, the plan is 1 Volume = 1 Season, with Volume 5 having the finale episodes, so, extra thiccccc.

I have edited the pages to fix spelling errors and made a few changes so subtle that I can't even remember them, as well as trying to make old pages more legible. And there are bonus images and commentary to fill in the blank spots left by page bonuses.

^Here's an example bonus pictures I made for "The Pharaoh". It's the picture Alix joked about sharing with the class of Marinette dressed as Scarlet Lady, and Plagg dressed as the Black Cat statues that the group walks past at the end of the episode.

Because mixam (the ones who'll be making these books) needs pages divisible by 4, I do have some full color pages for the Volumes that happened to not fit that number nicely (so far it's just Volume 2), so look forward to that. I think I'll share those pages later this week.

Additionally, the chapters got new "headers" since they're in a new format:

^Ivan finally got his moment!

So, it's not as easy as just throwing it into a PDF and giving it out like that. I want this to be a special gift for anyone who's willing to put down money for my content - they deserve something extra for their interest, which is also why I'm not trying to spoil everything.

As for the status of everything: - Volume 1: Final Walk-through. I've gone through one draft and added a few things to match changes I made to other volumes, so after I complete a few commissions I'll be ordering in another (hopefully final!) draft. One book costs me about $60 to order, but that's because I'm not ordering in bulk. But it does mean I take plenty of time between ordering draft. - Volume 2: 2nd Draft. Volume 1 had very few errors in its first draft but Volume 2 had quite a lot, starting with the cover being so dark it was basically a black blob with green eyes (the covers are the different heroes). So I've been editing saturation on the cover and need to print just the cover locally to find the right balance. Additionally, there were a handful that accidentally got cut off, so I needed to fix those. The cover is really the biggest thing holding things up. - Volume 3: Ready for it's 1st Draft. Again, these are expensive, and after the debacle with Volume 2 I want to test print Volume 3's cover to make sure it doesn't have the same problem since it also has a lot of black. - Volume 4: Only the pages have been edited. That means I need to do chapter covers, extras, chibis, and page fillers, as well as the cover. - Volume 5: Same as Volume 4, as well as not being done with the season.

Additionally, I'm not out here trying to get sued, so I need an original product to sell with the book being a "freebie". I don't do a lot of original content, so any suggestions would be appreciated. A print? Charm? Bookmark? Stickers?...pencil?

Then there's obviously the store to use, launching a page, creating marketing materials~ All super fun -_-

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 11

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 11/08 It's going to be a good one. 😉

Word Count: 6.9K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

You came down the stairs the next afternoon in jeans shorts and a t-shirt, eager to celebrate the warm day ahead. Winter was finally letting go, releasing everyone from the hold of its icy grasp, allowing summer to take over. The forecast showed nothing but sun and temperatures in the seventies and eighties for the next week. You were looking forward to letting your pale limbs that had been hidden under layers of clothes for months see the light of day and slowly turn to golden brown.

You’d slept in a bit this morning after what had turned out to be a late night with Eddie. You’d finished Scream, which would now be added to your list of all-time favorite horror movies because Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were absolutely everything in that movie. Neve Campbell had been one hell of a final girl. The way they played off all the horror movie rules and that twist with Drew Barrymore. Who would have thought the biggest name in that movie would meet their demise so quickly? The whole thing was genius.

But then Eddie had surprised you when he suggested that you watch The Craft as well. You had been glad that he wanted to spend more time with you instead of getting out of there as quickly as possible after the awkward and failed, almost, maybe kiss, if that had even been what it was. Your delusional mind could have just imagined the whole thing. But you’d also been confused because he seemed uncomfortable, staying firmly on his side of the couch, his legs spread wide in front of him, arms behind his head, taking up as much space as he could without actually risking invading any of yours.

But maybe it was as simple as he did just want to try to be your friend and he was respectfully trying to not cross any lines. Was that really so bad? You tried to focus on that piece, the fact that he could actually tolerate you now, instead of the burning want that flamed within you in the hopes to be more. There was just something about Eddie, something that pulled you in like the moon to the tides, something you could not explain no matter how you tried.

This man was an enigma, mysterious and puzzling, invading your mind, body, and soul. You knew it was crazy, absolutely insane, but you couldn’t seem to control it. You barely knew him. It made no sense why he’d completely taken you over, burrowing under your skin and infesting you with this ridiculous desire for him in a matter of a few weeks. It made no sense why you were even interested in him after the dickhead way he’d treated you. Red flags everywhere! But you couldn’t seem to stop it. You longed to hold him, to comfort him, to soothe whatever was aching within him.

And that man was definitely hurting. Every now and again, if you watched him closely and you hated to admit that you did, far more closely than you should, it was like a veil of sadness and pain had been drawn over his face. There would be a dark, haunted look in his eyes as he became lost in his own thoughts and memories. It was this deep sense of grief, as if he had seen things and experienced things that shouldn’t have happened, things that had left deep scars on his body as well as his soul, things that you could never understand. Whatever had happened to him had clearly left its mark just as deeply as those raccoons. And you still weren't sure you believed that ridiculous story.

He might be trying to be friendly now but he still kept you at a safe distance. He’d almost been too careful last night, as if he was actively working to not touch you, to keep you locked out of the barred gates that he’d carefully placed around himself. At some point you’d made popcorn, putting it into one bowl that you placed between you on the couch so you could share and you’d watched as his eyes tracked your movements. He would wait until you’d grabbed a handful and pulled away before reaching in himself. He’d offered to get you drinks and instead of handing your Coke to you, he had placed it on the coffee table in front of you, leaving you sitting stupidly with your hand out, as if he didn’t even want your hands to risk contact. He’d walked all the way around and behind the couch to get to the kitchen or the bathroom instead of risking any part of him possibly touching any part of you.

You tried not to be offended by it, tried to tell yourself that you weren't that repulsive but it proved hard, especially when he leapt about a mile off the couch when your foot simply brushed his thigh accidentally as you stretched slightly. After that, he’d moved over to the chair, telling you that you looked uncomfortable and this way you could stretch out, but it definitely felt like him trying to escape you somehow. And when he’d left, he’d stood awkwardly, his hand reaching out toward you for just a moment before moving through his hair instead. He’d clumsily muttered bye and then headed out the door. How was a girl not to start wondering what was wrong with her? At one point, you’d even slyly taken a whiff of yourself, thinking maybe you needed to reapply deodorant or something but you hadn’t smelled anything.

But he’d kindly helped you bring all the dishes to the kitchen before he left and told you he would pick you up at two today to go look at the junkyard for parts. You tried to push down the anticipation that prickled along your skin at the thought of seeing him again, of spending hours with him. You tried to remind yourself that he had no interest in you.

You knew you probably didn’t look like the kind of girl he was attracted to. Eddie, with his band and his metal music, probably liked girls who wore leather and had tattoos and multiple piercings. Bad girls with foul mouths and tough attitudes. Those girls who were cool without even trying to be. You were nothing like that. You were about as far from a bad girl as someone could get and you’d never been cool, only cool by association.

You were clearly not his type and there was no point in holding onto this yearning your body wouldn’t release. He was just trying to be a friend. That’s all he wanted to be. That was all it could be and you needed to get over this ridiculous crush that was obviously one sided and just appreciate what you had with him. Hadn’t you just thought about how getting into a relationship right now could be a bad idea anyway? Hadn’t you thought it was the last thing you needed? Hadn’t you just wanted him to like you so you could feel comfortable with the group? You were getting exactly what you wanted and that should be more than enough.

The phone rang and you grabbed the cordless from the kitchen wall, sending up a silent plea that it wasn’t Eddie canceling on you. Maybe he’d seen how pathetically you’d looked at him last night. Maybe he was embarrassed for you, knowing you were harboring some pathetic school girl crush that he would never return. Maybe he’d decided he shouldn’t give you the wrong idea, the same way you’d thought that about Steve just a few days ago.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, stranger.”

“Kimmy? Hi!” you exclaimed, both excited to hear your sister’s voice and relieved it wasn’t Eddie.

“Hey there, stranger. Figured I should check in and make sure you were still breathing since I haven’t heard from you in three weeks. You know, you don’t get to move miles away and then just vanish on me. I was starting to imagine you locked in some creep’s basement or laying in a gutter somewhere.”

“Jesus. I know. I’m sorry. No creeps, basements, or gutters, I promise. Actually, I’ve been…well, I’ve actually been busy, if you can believe it.” You bit back a smile thinking about how drastically your life had changed over the last few weeks.

“Is that…wait, no!” your sister gasped dramatically. “It can’t be. I must be dreaming. Could that possibly be a smile I hear in your voice? Is my sister who’s been in an emotional coma for months actually feeling something? Oh my god. You have to tell me everything! What has caused this sudden change? Could it be, dare I say it, a guy?”

You sighed, “Not really. I mean, there is a guy, kind of, that I thought maybe something was happening but it turns out he’s not interested in me like that. But I have made a bunch of new friends and I have actually been doing things. Things that are not just sitting on my couch contemplating how tragic my life has become. I went to a bonfire at the lake and roller skated. I went to a friend’s house for pizza and a movie and I planted some flowers in my garden. Oh! And I finally have a car. It needs some work but I have a friend who is going to do it for free if I pay for parts so I should have some actual wheels soon.”

“Wow! That’s all amazing, babe, really. I love that you’re getting out again and having some fun. You deserve it. I’ve been telling you for months to crawl out from under those blankets and start living your life again. Cam’s done enough damage already. He doesn’t get to steal the rest of your life or your joy. He’s sure not sitting around feeling bad about anything that happened.”

You caught your sister’s tone.To be fair, a complete stranger could have caught her disgusted tone. Kim had nothing but sheer hatred for Cameron after the affair. Your sister had never been his biggest fan, not even back in high school, but she used to at least tolerate him because she knew you loved him even if she never understood why. That had gone out the window the night you had called her hysterical after finding him and Cassie in your bed.

Kim had always thought he was a pompous jerk and she hated how you had always agreed to everything Cam wanted, how you adjusted to meet his needs and wants, sacrificing your own along the way. She couldn’t stand the way he always managed to make himself the most important person in the room. So many things that you hadn’t ever really noticed until after your marriage had blown up in your face and you began scrutinizing every little detail from over the years. So many things that pointed to how little you had actually mattered to the man that you’d promised to love forever.

“I’m betting he’s not. Him and Cassie still living together?”

“Of course they are. I ran into that bitch at the grocery store the other day and you should have seen it. I swear, it was the greatest moment of my life. I came around the corner of the aisle and there she was, perusing the grapefruit selection. The minute she caught sight of me she turned and ran. I mean, she abandoned an entire cart of groceries and booked it out of the store so fast you would have thought I was the bogeyman. It was fantastic. I kind of wanted to chase her just to see the fear in her eyes.” Your sister went quiet for a moment and that was never a good sign because it usually meant she was plotting something evil. “You know, maybe I should get a Michael Myers mask and just randomly show up when she’s not expecting it. I could hide in the bushes outside of her house or wait outside her work.”

“Kim…” you groaned. “Jesus, you’re ridiculous. You know, this is not your fight.”

“The hell it isn’t! You’re my sister and they screwed you over in the worst way. This is absolutely my fight. I will spend the rest of my life making sure they’re both miserable as hell because that’s what they deserve. There’s no way they get to have a happily ever after together, not after what they did. They committed the worst crimes imaginable against a spouse and a best friend. Anyway, we have more important things to talk about than those two pieces of shit. Let’s backtrack a bit. Tell me about this guy that’s a friend but you don’t think he’s into you because I am going to assume that means you’re into him.”

“I’m not…I mean…maybe. I thought I was but I don’t know. He’s a very difficult guy.”

“Difficult how?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned, taking the phone into the living room. You flopped down onto the couch on your back, one arm draped over your head. “He’s so secretive and moody. He runs so hot and cold all the time. I never know where I stand with him. Sometimes I think he might hate me but then he shows up and does something like offering to fix my car for me.”

“Wait. This is the friend who’s fixing your car for free and you don’t think he’s into you?”

“No, because he’s definitely not. He’s made it very clear. Trust me.”

Kim snorted, “Sis, come on. What guy offers to spend hours fixing your car for free if there’s nothing in it for him?”

“I’m telling you, there’s not. He hasn’t made a single move on me. In fact, I was pretty sure he hated my guts when we first met. You should have seen the way he looked at me like I was some unwelcome intruder in his group. He can’t even seem to stand to be in the same room with me half the time. And then last night, he brought me food and stayed to watch a movie and…”

“He brought you food and stayed to watch a movie and there’s no interest? Sis, I know you’ve only ever been with one guy in your life but even you can’t be this dense.”

“Jesus Christ, Kim. I am not being dense. You should have seen him. He was working overtime to actively not touch me in any way. There was a moment last night where I thought he might kiss me and I was so ready to let it happen. But I was obviously just imagining things because he pulled back like I had the plague or something. I swear, you would have thought he suddenly saw some nasty oozing boil on my mouth or something. And then he stayed as far from me as possible. He even moved to the chair when my foot accidentally touched him. Like, he could not stand any part of me barely brushing against any part of him. I think he’s just trying to make nice because his friends have given him shit about being a jerk to me. Seriously, he’s not into me. He couldn’t be more not into me if he tried. He made that very clear last night.”

“Or…and hear me out before you argue because I know you will. Maybe he’s actively trying not to touch you because he wants to so badly.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I said hear me out,” Kim reminded her. “It may not make sense to you but as someone who has actually dated a number of men and experienced more than one dick in my life, let’s assume that I might understand this more than you. For some people it’s not so easy to just trust someone. Maybe he’s been hurt in the past and he really likes you but he’s terrified of getting hurt again so he’s holding back. Guys are weird with that kind of shit. They don’t do emotional stuff so they just shut down or they get all pompous and stupid. Society tells them they’re supposed to be strong, not show when they’re vulnerable. The problem might not be that he’s not into you but that he is, in fact, too into you and it scares the living hell out of him because, let’s face it, you are a total babe and an absolute catch and any guy would be insane not to see that.”

Your eyes slipped closed as you thought over your sister’s words. Hadn’t you just been thinking about how pained he looked sometimes, the sadness that seemed to seep from every pore of him? Could it have been a girl? Could it have been as simple as a relationship that ended really badly? Were you creating some massive conspiracy in this town to just explain away why he didn’t want to be around you? What if the girl had been killed in that mall fire? Could that tragedy have made him swear off of relationships? Scared to let anyone in because he knew how bad it felt if he lost them?

You could understand that more deeply than you cared to admit. No, your husband hadn’t died but it had felt like a death when you’d walked into your bedroom. You’d grieved the loss of this thing that had been so solid in your life for so long, this thing that you’d thought was forever, this pretty lie you’d told herself. No, your relationship hadn’t been perfect. What relationship was? But you’d vowed to stick it out, to stand by each other for better or worse and you’d meant that. It terrified you to think about opening yourself up to someone else, to risk repeating the same mistakes.

You’d come to terms with being alone for a while before you’d moved to this town. You had not moved to Hawkins with any desire to meet or date anyone for a long time. You hadn’t thought you’d be able to handle it. But then here came this beautiful, infuriating, long-haired metalhead and suddenly you wanted to take that dive again, to take the risk and see where it went.

“Sis…hey…did I lose you?” came Kim’s voice in your ear.

“No. You didn’t lose me.”

This was crazy. Jesus, you were doing it again, trying to create reasons, grasp onto theories to make yourself feel better, when the most logical reason was he just didn’t like you that way. Kim didn’t know him. She hadn’t seen the look of sheer disgust on his face that you had. You just had to accept reality for what it was and listening to Kim was not going to help. Your sister was desperate to get you out and dating so you could stop dwelling on Cam and everything that had gone wrong.

She’d even tried to set you up with her roommate’s brother six months ago. Talk about an absolute disaster. The date came to a screeching halt when he mentioned going to a Chicago Bulls game and you began crying into your chicken marsala because Cam had loved the Bulls. You’d taken him to a game the year before for his birthday, completely unaware that he had just gotten back from spending the night with your best friend in a little Bed and Breakfast. You had found that charge on the credit card bill after everything had spiraled out of control.

You had lost your mind after you’d walked in on the two of them, combing through every single piece of your lives, searching for evidence, anything that would tell you how long it had been going on. Cam insisted it was a one time thing and begged you to forgive him. You had thought about trying but when you’d found that charge it had gutted you because you knew everything had been a lie. Your entire marriage was bullshit. They’d been doing this behind your back for months. When you confronted him and he admitted it had started a year ago, you had packed your shit and left immediately.

There was no chance of salvaging anything, no chance you could ever forgive or forget. You didn’t know why you’d even considered it in the first place because no matter what happened, you would never be able to trust him. And you couldn’t be with someone you couldn't trust.

“You know I could be right,” sang your sister. “You may not want to believe it but…”

A rhythmic knock at the front door had you lurching upright and glancing over at the clock. How in the hell was it already two? You jumped to your feet, yelling into the phone, “Kim, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later. I’m sorry. Love you. Bye!”

“Hey! What the hell?” your sister screeched but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain as you pressed end.

The phone bounced off the couch as you raced to the mirror, checking your hair and fluffing it a bit before checking your teeth for lipstick. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you groaned. What the hell were you doing? Hadn’t you just reminded yourself that you were just friends? That was all he wanted. It didn’t matter if your hair was perfect or if your lipstick was smeared. Eddie was not going to care. It wouldn’t make a difference.

“Hey Prom Queen! Are you in there?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m coming! Hang on!”

You raced to the door, yanking it open to find Eddie, hands in his pockets, hip leaning against the column on your porch. He was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, this one dark green and molding to every lean muscle along his arms and chest. You had to remind yourself to breathe, sucking in blessed oxygen that your body suddenly needed if you were going to be capable of any kind of speech.

“Hey. Sorry about that,” you gasped.

His lips curved into that one-sided smile as he turned his head, lips pursing so tantalizingly to the side and his eyes traveled, from the top of your head to the tips of your Converse. For a guy who wasn’t interested in you, it sure looked like he was checking you out. Had you gotten so untethered from reality that you couldn’t tell anymore? Or maybe it was like your sister said, lack of experience with men.

“I was beginning to think I was getting stood up,” Eddie mused, pushing off the column with his hip, head tilting slightly.

“You can’t get stood up when it’s not a date,” you stated, turning to lock the door behind you, struggling to get the key in as your fingers trembled. You fought to keep your voice steady, to not let him know how much his very presence affected you. “I don’t think driving to a junkyard for me to buy some spare parts for you to do manual labor on my car is something that falls under that category. A date usually consists of a meal, maybe a movie.” You stuttered on her words, realizing what you had just said. “Not like last night obviously. That was just friends hanging out. Friends do that all the time. I mean, a date is agreed to beforehand and then dinner and a movie is usually out, but I guess I could also be in depending on the mood.” Jesus, could you shut up already? You were sounding like Robin and why couldn’t you get the key in the damn lock?

Soft skin and firm metal wrapped around your hand, steadying it, guiding the key into the lock and turning. You suddenly lost all ability to breathe, your brain incapable of this very basic function, a function you shouldn’t even have to think about. But your brain couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feel of his chest pressing against your back, the thin layers of cotton the only thing separating them.

“Looked like you could use a little help there,” he whispered, his warm breath ruffling your hair, caressing the shell of your ear.

You spun away from him quickly and he stumbled into the door, turning to look at you in confusion. No. You couldn’t do this. You could handle hanging out with him but you could not handle having him so close to you that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Your body was buzzing, your skin pulsing as if an electric current flowed through you, your head in a haze.

If you weren't careful you were going to do something you could potentially regret. Jesus, could the guy just stop sending mixed signals? It was a never-ending loop of confusion with him. Every time you convinced yourself that he wasn’t interested, he would do some shit like that that left you dazed and confused. You felt like you were being strung along, like he was toying with you, and you didn’t know what the hell he wanted or what his endgame was here. You were constantly trying to read between the lines, searching for hidden meanings to his words and actions. But none of it made any sense. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t untangle the conundrum that was Eddie Munson.

“Ready to go?” you asked impatiently, your temper flaring, incapable of stopping the annoyance that roiled through you at his hot and cold moods. Did he think it was fun to toy with you? To make you think he wanted something only to shut it down the next minute? You couldn’t do this. You were still reeling from your last mistake and no matter how badly you wanted him, you couldn’t allow yourself to be tricked again.

“Uh…yeah, okay,” Eddie murmured carefully, pulling his keys from his pocket.

As you walked toward the van, he jogged ahead of you, grabbing the door and opening it for you. You froze, narrowing your eyes in suspicion as he held out his hand to help you up and in. Those damn eyes went all warm and gooey on you again as he smiled and you sighed, bracing yourself for the physical contact as you accepted, climbing up and into the passenger seat.

The only sound for the next five minutes was Dio’s ‘Don’t Talk to Strangers’ playing from the speakers of the van. You had no idea what to say, still completely baffled by what had just happened on your front porch. The silence was tangible, uncomfortable, a pressing weight on your chest. You scooched down in the seat, keeping your eyes on the window, your body trembling with frustration and anger.

“So, AC/DC, huh?”

Your head snapped around at his words, “Huh?”

“Your shirt. AC/DC?” Eddie repeated, pointing to the front of yourshirt. “You like them?”

You rolled your eyes, “Livewire, What’s Next to the Moon, and Riffraff. Also, Bon Scott on vocals, Angus Young on lead guitar, Malcolm Young on rhythm guitar, Larry Van Kriedt on bass, and Colin Burgess on drums. That was the original line-up but Evans got fired and was replaced with Cliff Williams. Then Scott died and they replaced him with Brian Johnson. Then Rudd was fired and he was replaced with Simon Wright before Simon joined the very band we’re listening to so they replaced him with Chris Slade. Should I go on?”

“Uh…no, that’s okay. I think I got it all. But why exactly are you giving me the full history of the band?” Eddie asked, perplexed.

“Because I assumed you were going to ask me to prove that I was a fan. Isn’t that what you hardcore metalheads do? Assume us girlies can’t possibly know metal music? You demand we name three songs and tell us you bet we can’t name a single member. We just wear the shirts with the bands on them to look cool because we couldn’t possibly have the intellectual capacity to really understand the complexities of heavy metal, right?”

“Whoa. No,” he chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “I might be a douchebag but I am not one of those douchebags. Are you kidding me? You can wear and listen to whatever the hell you want. You obviously appreciate talent. I respect that. But how in the hell do you know all that about the band? I don’t even know all that.”

“My dad,” you shrugged. “He’s been a huge AC/DC fan from the beginning. He was like twenty-six when their first album came out and it was love at first ripping guitar riff for him. I grew up on their music among a lot of other heavy metal bands. My dad actually plays drums. He had a band for a while but they broke up when I was about eight. Everyone just kind of had too much real life shit going on, you know, but he still plays for fun.”

“Damn. Lucky you. Sounds like you got a pretty cool dad. He was twenty-six when they came out?” asked Eddie, his lips pooching out, head tilting as he did the math in his head. “He must have been young when you came along because that was seventy-three and you were born in what, sixty-six like me?”

“Yep. He was only nineteen when I was born. My mom was eighteen. They were high school sweethearts. It definitely wasn’t a planned pregnancy but they got married after she found out because their parents expected them to. Different time, you know? He was supposed to do right by her, make her an honest woman and all that archaic nonsense.”

“Are they still together? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.” He cringed, one his eyes winking shut. “Sorry. Forget it. That’s really none of my business. You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. Against all the odds, they are still together and disgustingly in love. I mean, dancing in the kitchen and making out on the couch kind of in love. They were never hesitant to show affection around me,” you laughed, shaking your head. “You would think with two parents who have modeled the perfect marriage, I would have been just a tad more successful with mine.”

“Hard to be successful with defective merchandise. The only option you really have is to return it.”

“Excuse me? Did you just call me defective?” you questioned, your hackles rising in response.

“Oh shit! No! Not you,” Eddie assured you, hands coming over the front of the steering wheel, waving in front of him for a moment. “I meant him. Your ex was the defective merchandise. Only the biggest kind of asshole would sleep with his girl’s best friend and only an idiot would even think to cheat when he had someone like…” He cleared his throat suddenly. “Anyway, you got any siblings?”

“Yeah, I do. I have a sister, Kim. She’s four years younger than me. My parents waited a bit after me to have another one. My dad finished up college. He started going to school to be a high school counselor. He switched over to finance once he realized there’d be more money in it. You know, with a kid already at home money was tight and now he’s a bank manager. But that therapy background never truly left him so that was really fun growing up. Every single story I told about school had to be psychoanalyzed. And the divorce…” You blew out a long breath. “I see this is very painful for you. I see you’re feeling some big feelings right now pumpkin. Let’s use our words and talk about how we feel instead of lashing out at those we love.” You shook your head. “I love him. I really do. He’s a great dad but I felt like I couldn’t breathe around him sometimes. He would never let me just feel what I was feeling, always insisting I talk about it. Sometimes you just don’t want to talk about it, you know? You just want to keep it buried because it’s ugly and hard and why would you want to keep talking about it when all you want to do is forget it?”

“Shit, I know exactly what you mean.”

Your eyes moved to his face. There it was again. His eyes were hollow, vacant as if the person inside there had just decided to walk away. His face was a portrait of anguish, suffering etched into his face like deep grooves carved into wood as if he had lived through a thousand years of pain. The dark cloud had engulfed him again, the burden he tried to keep invisible now exposed, sitting between them like a massive boulder.

Your hand moved on its own, your brain having no say in the matter. It came to rest on his cheek and his eyelashes fluttered at the touch, his fingers releasing their manic grip on the wheel, relaxing. You traced your fingers down along the side of his neck, running along the raised ridges of those scars he claimed were caused by raccoons and his hand came up, wrapping around yours.

“We’re here,” he breathed softly, placing your hand in your own lap. “Let’s uh…let’s get those parts, yeah? Then we can get you in your own car.”

He jumped out of the van, walking straight for the owner, leaving you in limbo once again. Your head collapsed back against the seat and you let out a long sigh of frustration before following him.

___________________________________________________________

The junkyard had been a success. Eddie had managed to get all the parts he would need to get the Honda up and running. He grinned in the driver’s seat, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of the Judas Priest song, clearly riding a high at his ability to get the junkyard owner to give him a good price. You had to admit he’d been impressive. You were barely going to put a dent in the car money you’d saved with his haggling skills.

“So, you got any dinner plans?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I mean, you’ve got to eat, right? And I was thinking we should celebrate my epic negotiation expertise. You have to admit, I was pretty damn amazing. Al tried to get one over on me but he should have known better. That was not my first rodeo with him. He’s always trying to swindle people, the greedy bastard.”

“You want to get dinner with me?” you asked, stuck on that single part of the conversation.

His head turned toward you, eyebrows raising. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

Your elbows rested on the tops of your thighs, your face buried in your hands, a groan of frustration rippling through you. What the hell were you doing? What the hell was he doing? Was this a date? Was this just him being friendly? Was he being difficult or did you have zero ability to read a guy? It wasn’t like you had much experience. Cam came along when you were fifteen and you never had to flirt with anyone again.

“Ooookay…” Eddie said slowly. “Is that a no?”

Was it? Two sides of you at war with each other, battling, fighting. One side wanted to say no, to tell him you had something going on. Anything to not be stuck alone with him any longer, not to risk allowing these feelings to fester, to grow, to get any bigger than they already were. To not allow him to cause you to keep questioning yourself, analyzing every move he made and every word he spoke. The other side wanted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind, to ignore the nagging voice in your mind and grasp at any excuse to be in his presence for just a bit longer.

“Prom Queen? Hey, you alright over there?” came Eddie’s voice, pulling you from the internal battle you were fighting against yourself.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, your brain cursing you as you already knew which side you were going to allow to win because there’s really been a choice, had there?

“We don’t have to go to dinner. I mean, it was just an idea. I’m hungry and I kind of assumed you would be too. It’s not a big deal. I can just drop you off at home if you have something else going on.”

“No. I don’t,” you admitted softly. Just dinner. He was just hungry and you were with him. That was all this was. You were completely losing your mind. “Dinner would be nice. What were you thinking?”

“Oh,” Eddie exclaimed, obviously surprised at your declaration after you’d just acted like an insane person. “Well, there’s not a lot of options in this town. There’s the diner, Argyle’s pizza place, Benny’s Burgers, Enzo’s is nice but a little pricey…” He stuttered over his words. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t be willing to spend the money. I’m not saying you’re not worth a nice dinner because you definitely are and I’m not cheap or anything. It’s just the fanciest place in town. It’s where everyone goes for birthdays and anniversaries and shit.”

You laughed at his uncomfortable rambling, “You and Robin really are two peas in a pod, aren’t you?”

Eddie grimaced, his nose scrunching in the most adorable way, “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, smirking, “Nancy made a comment about it the other day. I didn’t really think about it at the time but you and Robin are a lot alike.”

His head tilted slightly, that tongue poking out as he gave you a teasing grin. “I mean, we both love boobs.”

“Ugh, you pig,” you chuckled, shaking your head and whacking him gently with the back of your hand. “That is not what I meant.”

“Okay, so what exactly did you mean?”

“You both just say whatever you’re thinking without pausing to consider how it might sound. You both ramble when you’re nervous, stumbling over your feet and bumbling through your words.”

“I do not!” he scoffed.

“You do,” you insisted with a small shrug, “but it’s cute.”

Eddie’s eyes flashed over at you and you wanted to open the door and roll out. Jesus Christ. Had you really just told him you thought he was cute? What the hell was wrong with you? Why did you lose all ability to think coherently when he was around? It was like he’d infected your brain with some bumbling idiot disease.

“Oh yeah?” questioned Eddie with a smug smile that you wanted to slap off his face. This guy was the one who kept messing with your head and then he was going to look at you like that? It wasn’t helping.

“Yeah…Robin is super cute when she does it. Haven’t you noticed?” you teased right back.

“Ahh…I see. Well, you know, if you’re that into Buckley, I can probably hook you up. She’s single, you know. And if I was nervous, it’s only because you get offended by damn near everything I say so I never know what to say.”

“Me?” you shrieked. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one whose mood swings harder than a middle aged couple digging for keys in a fishbowl at a party.”

Eddie barked out a loud laugh, his chest falling over the steering wheel. You smiled, feeling smug that you’d managed to get another laugh out of him, managed to shock him, to bring him one of those brief moments of levity, making that load he carried on his back all the time just a tad lighter.

“Okay…that was a damn good one. Did not see that coming out of that mouth. I wouldn't have thought you’d even know what a swinger was,” Eddie admitted, shaking his head. “Damn, you’re not nearly as innocent as you look, are you? You speaking from personal experience?”

Your eyes rolled, “If I were, you’ll certainly never know. I told you to stop assuming things. You don’t know everything about me, Eddie.”

“I’m beginning to realize that. I’m also beginning to think I’d really like to.”

Pulsing, blazing heat raced through your body and straight between your thighs. You adjusted yourself in the seat, your thighs coming together, pressing tightly in an attempt to quell the sudden ache. You inhaled slowly through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, willing your body to calm down and work with you.

Why did he say shit like that? Could he really be so unaware of how what he was saying could be construed? Was he that dense that he couldn’t see how his words could be taken? If all he wanted was friendship with you, why would he talk like that?

Because he was just trying to be a friend. Isn’t that what friends did when they first met? You got to know each other. You showed interest in each other’s lives. You teased each other, sometimes about inappropriate shit. It was probably the same way he was with Robin or Steve or Jonathan. You were reading too much into something again, making it into something bigger than it was.

“Umm, so anyway, I’m good with pizza,” you muttered hastily, glazing over his statement. “I’m pretty much always good with pizza.”

“As you wish, princess,” he grinned.

Did he just bust out a Wesley quote on you from Princess Bride? Goddamn, this man had no idea the hold he had on you, the effect he could have with a few simple words. Your head rocked back against the headrest, your eyes slipping closed, praying you could make it through this night without completely humiliating yourself.

Chapter 12

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea @nailbatanddungeon @emilyslutface @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @corrodedcoffincumslut @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @katethetank

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snowfinches · 1 year

Text

(based of this idea i had lol)

it had been a long time without scaramouche.

you moved on, moved onto a region free from baal’s reign. a region full of nature. you were loving it. zubayr theater had become a huge part of your life. everyone there was like family. the theater troupe's lives had intertwined with yours, distracting you from the distant memories of a lover that had been gone for so long.

you were content to forget him. even if your heart longed for the past, you were taken by the whims of theater and dancing, trying to focus your attention elsewhere so that you wouldn't hurt so much.

it was comforting, how regular your routine was. you got up, you ran a few errands for the theater, had lunch, composed ideas for nilou's next dance and tried not to fret over how hurt you felt over scaramouche.

everything was going fine. though his words continued to echo in your head, you still held onto the false hope that he'd come whisk you away again, take you to have the prettiest, calmest nights with him where eerything felt okay. you hoped, wished and prayed that the harsh words he spoke were false, words said in the spur of the moment, though you never really had any way of knowing. as much as you hated to admit it, scaramouche was on your mind more than ever, and you missed him.

you were fine, until you heard about the fatui's deeds in sumeru.

you didn't mean to eavesdrop. no, you were simply passing by, and you happened to overhear an interesting conversation nilou had with the mysterious traveler. something about the fatui. whispers about il dottore, the harbinger. you were reminded of a harbinger - but you sighed and went about your routine, resisting the urge to inquire about it. it was probably just dottore anyway, scaramouche was long gone and probably trying to take over inazuma for all you cared.

well, that was what you believed until you heard his name.

again, you hadn't the intention to eavesdrop. but, somehow, conveniently, the traveler was within your earshot again, and you just happened to hear scaramouche's name. you were simply curious about the commotion near pardis dyhai, and happened to overhear his name. the balladeer was becoming a god.

hope, uneasy and unwanted, bloomed within you. your heart screamed at you, hoping that you'd see him again, hoping he would make it up to you, hoping he would take back his harsh words. but you dismissed that hope, huffing to calm your inner turmoil. life was going great, and you didn't need a harbinger to come waltzing back to ruin your accustomed routine.

that was until you heard word of scaramouche's involvement in the whole plan.

this had been after the grand sage had been arrested. you were so intent on not focusing on your mixed feelings for scaramouche, going about your daily routine, that a week or two had passed. you were fairly aware of the fatui's presence in sumeru, as well as slightly aware of the akademiya's odd behavior. though, you still didn't think scaramouche was in sumeru, until you were told so.

surprisingly, you hadn't been conveniently within earshot this time. no, you had been approached by katheryne from the adventurer's guild, who seemed to have hinted scaramouche's involvement, a possibly indication that he wanted to see you, as well as where he was.

how katheryne (someone who was, again, from the adventurer's guild) knew about any of the fatui's plans, was foreign to you. but that wasn't on your mind for long.

a rush of impulsiveness, a careless act. you had decided to find him, and katheryne's hints were of great help.

and there he was, laying unconscious, looking so peaceful.

"is he okay?" you quickly asked the small child that was residing next to him, who knowingly smiled at you.

"he's okay." she whispered, motioning for you to come forward.

hesitant, you obliged, walking closer to observe his sleeping form. as if he heard the footsteps, he stirred, and you, startled, were almost afraid of waking him, almost afraid of him seeing you. you considered leaving, but scaramouche's voice, fragile and quiet, had stopped you. he had murmured your name.

"i'm here." you mumbled to him, taking his hand in yours. barely noticeable, but still there, there was a small smile upon his face. “i’m here.”

#✧ cat’s works!#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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tmmyhug · 1 year

Note

i haven’t touched dsmp in like a year and a half for. various reasons, but i was kinda curious how are y’all doing?? i feel like everything i have heard since i stopped being interested in it has been increasingly wild and concerning

welll it kinda slowly deteriorated over the past year meaning longer and longer breaks between lore until it was like . several months of nothing. gradually people stopped streaming unless there was something planned and plans took forever to be made and even longer to happen. behind the scenes the communication kinda broke down + everyone was really busy now that we’re no longer in lockdown. lore was already loose and rough at this point but it starting falling apart more and more.

wilbur did a final series of streams for his character over the past year that had to be cut severely short due to lack of availability and timing. this included a portion that he wrote and posted to ao3 bc the stream for that part wasn’t able to be carried out. he wrapped it up with a finale stream w tommy to end his arc. it’s a bit controversial of an ending but he got out 👍

“season two,” the server reset which they’ve been hyping up for months, was supposed to start in september ? and just. hasn’t. clingy duo and dream and punz did four Big Server Finale streams back to back in november. but right before that was when the grooming allegations against dream came out and well. that’s a whole other mess i don’t want to get into but most of us here dropped dream. dtblr up and vanished overnight. it was bad. this may or may not have had to do with the clingy finale, which was possibly damage control on dreams part bc it happened the weekend after the allegations + also why the finale streams involved only four people. but regardless, the finale was uh. not good . it was a well intentioned but fumbled ending imo. i never gathered the stamina to watch it (which is saying a lot coming from me who followed ctommy religiously) but i’ve heard enough from those who did + the involvement of dream turned me off of it completely.

phil niki and ranboo did a syndicate finale stream a few weeks ago where kristin had a role and it was short and sweet and uncomplicated. ranboo did a finale thing on twitter i think ? for his character and michael. i never followed his character but ik it was closure at least.

that’s where we’re at now. multiple ccs have been complaining abt dream’s lack of responses in the server and that’s really the crux of it. george going to florida and the face reveal happened right around when season two was supposed to start and that- and probably the grooming allegations - derailed the whole thing. dream has been more or less radio silent to the other members - even tommys been complaining abt it. and quite a few ccs have announced they’re not participating in season 2 like phil ranboo niki wilbur + more i cant recall. aimsey i think.

so season two is more or less dead in the water and we’re hoping it stays that way. long story short you escaped at the right time. congrats. don’t come back ♥️

#ask #anonymous

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utilitycaster · 9 months

Note

(this might be a silly question, and please take this in the best possible faith, i don't mean it to be any kind of a gotcha or a trap, okay now that that's out of the way) i'm a cr fan who hasn't started c3 yet (still trucking through c2 and loving it) but i've been a quiet observer to whatever tf has been happening in the tumblr tags for it and have enjoyed your takes/opinions. so, asking this as someone without context who's not trying to comment on any recent ship developments (don't worry about spoilers though, not trying to avoid any), are there parts of c3, either characters or plot or backstories or whatever, that you do really enjoy/find compelling? (you might have already answered this, i've only been following you for like. a week and a half.) thank you!

Hi anon!

Yes, there definitely are! I completely get where you're coming from for this question, too, but I appreciate the context because I have gotten questions before where I feel like someone is trying to corner me and say CAN'T YOU BE POSITIVE??? Anyway, more on that at the end because I want to get to the things I do like, because there are, in fact, a lot. Also, because you've been vaguely following stuff this is chock full of spoilers just FYI.

Ashton, Chetney, and Fearne are all great characters. There is a lot of thought put into all three by the cast members who play them, I find their backstories and their inner lives rich and interesting, I am actually pretty patient with the Hishari plotline because Ashton has so much else going on that while I'm curious, I don't feel deprived. Chetney is just a great concept (for real people need to play older adventurers more often) and Travis is perhaps an unparalleled generator of interesting plot hooks, and Fearne constantly surprises me with her emotional depth and mischief - after two campaigns of Ashley playing characters who were often more, if not subdued, restrained or thoughtful, it's wonderful watching her let loose and be chaotic and cause problems.

Imogen is tricky because she's a character archetype I love, but her closest relationship does nothing for me. I would really love to see Laura lean into the darkness and moral ambiguity more. With that said her relationships with most of the rest of the party are great and I'd like more of them, and her family dynamics are also fascinating. With Imogen...I do want payoff but there has consistently been enough to keep me going.

Orym and FCG are interesting cases because I always liked Orym well enough but he was extremely Just A Guy - he delivered consistently but never wowed me - and I could not stand FCG earlier on. However, Orym's current arc is phenomenal. Liam's style doesn't always work for me but when it does, it really does, and the past few episodes have been top-tier Orym content. Similarly, after FCG learned of their history and met Dancer, they have been on an upswing that has not ended. I have never before turned around on a character to this degree but I love what Sam is doing. So if you're early on and FCG pisses you off: valid, but he gets good around episode 31 and then keeps being good.

The party split arcs are great. I love Uthodurn, I love Molaesmyr, I love getting to see some of Issylra, there's some great combat, the guests are all fantastic, it's a standout Laudna arc (quite literally part of why I've been recently frustrated with Laudna is because it's like every scrap of character development vanishes when she's within 15 feet of Imogen, like the dumbest paladin aura, but episodes 59-63 Laudna you will always be famous.

Earlier on, everything while Dorian is there is a fun time. Eshteross is precisely up my alley as are the Green Seekers. I also love the Twilight Mirror Museum heist.

The Bassuras arc is rough because there's a lot of good stuff going on but the plot is all weird and slow and I did not enjoy the guest arc. That said: some great interpersonal conversations, and also the Deathwish Run is a fun time if, like me, you love combat.

Yios casino episode, also a good time. The best way I can put it for someone watching through is that like...episodes 1-23 are typical finding one's characters/figuring out what's going on early campaign stuff, enjoyable overall, and the flaws within them can be attributed to that. 24-38 have plenty of bright spots within them (some of which I talked about) but it's a real slog at times. 39-42 are great. 43-45 are nonstop lore dump time, which isn't to say they are bad - there's some good stuff in there - but after 24-38 being lore dump and weird setup city it's a bit exhausting. Once the party goes to the feywild in 46 things get good and stay good. Like, for all the current romance isn't doing anything for me it's also, at this point, literally 2 minutes in an episode that otherwise fucking rules.

So just to get back on the bit about positivity: I tend to talk a lot more about what isn't working than what is. Some of this is because I firmly believe complaining is an art and a skill and is more fun to write. Some if it is also because I think if I like something, I just...like it! I can probably figure out why I like it if I want, but there's something very enjoyable about, well, just enjoying something. But if I don't like something, it's important for me to try to tease out why. Sometimes it's just that it doesn't work for me. There have been past CR characters who, while I can talk through the things I find I don't like about them, in the end it really comes down to "I think this personality is annoying, and that's valid and also a personal opinion." But sometimes I can frame it in terms of lack of narrative weight or momentum, or mechanically suboptimal builds that don't fit in with the character, or what have you, and I think it's valuable to be able to say that instead of just "wow this sucks." Like, there's meta to be had in why I don't care for something, whereas, for example, Fearne's incredibly clutch moves in the most recent episode were things I called out in my liveblogging but I don't have much to say other than "Ashley made some baller combat choices."

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

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writerfae · 5 months

Note

I heard you are interested in the disaster that is Endre's gf, Odette (19), and their relationship! Oh boy!

A little worldbuilding for context:

In the country of Galla three people rule together at once. They are called the triarhists (or that's how i decided it will be in English) and they have magic (gold wings that they can summon on their backs and grow to any size they want, gold fire and gold chains), and they pass this on to their first born. Their primary role is to protect the people of Galla if the Black swamp ever threatened them again, and in the worst case scenario lift Galla higher so they can't be reached. Triarhists are NEARLY seen as gods, but everyone knows they are just humans.

Odett and Endre are both soon to be triarhists. Endre hates it, but Odette always helps him with everything she can.

Odette loves being a triarhist. She loves her people, and wants to help them in every way she can.

She is smart, understanding and compassionate. Everyone thinks she'll be one of the best rulers in history.

The other characters love her! Adél, Ákos and Bendegúz all see her as a big sister, and she also genuinely loves them. Not to mention the true love that is between her and Endre. See, they all grew up together, so they're really close.

So, what went wrong?

When Odette was really little she had this idea. She listened to the scary legends about the swamp and had nightmares about them like every other child. She saw little Adél, bearly three years old crying at the mere mention of the place. But what if they, the triarhists could destroy the Black swamp for good?

She told this to her dad, who at the time praised her, because it was just another sign of her growing to be a caring ruler. But as time passed, and she didn't let go of this idea they argued over it alot.

Odette's dad said that she shouldn't start a war when they are safe. That her plans are cruel and extreme.

They fought about this until Odette turned 14. Her father thought she simply grew to realize what was wrong with her idea. Truth is Odette just hid the plans and worked on them in private.

But you know how curious Ákos is. He was bound to find a secret drawer. Years after Odett hid the plans there. And he doesn't like it.

Odette pleads with him to keep it a secret, but he doesn't want to. What he read was strange, and scary and so unlike her.

So Odette looks at this ten year old. The one she taught how to read, hugs him close, says "I'm sorry". Ákos relaxes. And Odette pushes him down into the abyss.

Odette tells everyone it was an accident. They were just playing and Ákos stumbled. She tried flying after him, to catch him, but to no avail. Everyone believes her.

She doesn't regret it. It was for her people. Anything for her people.

Still she tries distancing herself from her friends. It wouldn't be fair to them.

But, of course they don't let her go that easily.

A week after the incident Endre corners her in the library and confronts her, saying that it wasn't her fault and noone blames her.

And Odette knows it's not a fair question to Endre, but she still asks:

"If it was my fault would you still love me?"

And Endre, who thinks Odette saw his little brother stumble to his death despite her best efforts and is traumatized by that, of course says "Yes"

Weeks later Adél and Bendegúz disappear. A week after that they come back with Ákos.

Odette is glad that Ákos is safe, but still she doesn't regret what she did, and she'd do it again if she felt it was needed.

So that's what happened.

Everyone has varying levels of trust issues after this.

Endre, summoning flames into his palms: Are you sure your boyfriend would never hurt Aiden?

Henry standing before Callan: Yes, I am absolutely sure-

Endre: I WAS ALSO SURE!

Aiden just eating popcorn in the background.

Endre and Callan would like echother I think. They can trade ruler gossip. But they might need to get past... this first.

Also I'll tell you about Endre some other time, but know that Aiden and Endre would fight so much over who gets to adopt the other! Since they're the same age

I absolutely am! And damn am I invested in this now.

First off, I love Odette. I love her name and I can even understand her reasoning for what she did (though that doesn’t excuse shoving a literal child down an abyss)

I love characters that seem just so born to be rulers, that you know would do everything for their people, even if it’s not always the right thing.

I’m really curious though, what were her plans to destroy the black swamp? If even her father calls it cruel, I probably don’t want to know do I? 🙈

It must’ve been quite the shock for Ákos to find out about all that. And having to deal with the fact that she as someone he trusted pushed him into the abyss must be hard too. Poor thing.

I feel so sad for Endre too. Must be hard to be betrayed like this by a person he loves so much. I can see why he has trust issues afterwards. All of them, honestly. I hope they’ll still be okay.

I think if Callan manages to convince Endre that he doesn’t intend to harm anybody they’d get along quite well. They could complain about having to be the ones in charge.

And Aiden and Endre can declare each other their respective honorary brother, then everyone would be happy I think xD

#also I would love to learn more about Endre!#writer speaks #writeblr

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