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chelseeebe · 4 months

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still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

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‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker.

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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chipped-chimera · 10 months

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY - 21/06/23

(I mean it’s technically Friday now between timezones and spoons but have this otherwise I’ll keep forgetting) My first WIP Wednesday! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag! I’ve been really getting stuck into modding - as well as falling into my usual mod habit of ‘start like six project at once and end up with a million WIP files' but I guess I’ll talk about the major ones.

Graphic design is my passion ...

(Long) rambling about mods I'm making + things I've learned below the cut~

My V’s tatt project is still ongoing, and I’ve (somewhat begrudgingly) been trying out Substance Painter to work on bits of it, mainly polishing seams between UV maps. It’s definitely got a lot of benefits, especially for graphic placement in really tricky areas (like anywhere in the entire head mesh region for example) but I still think a lot of the heavy work will still be done in Photoshop so I’ll probably be writing up both experiences with them when I do that tutorial I keep hinting at for complex tatt work. I’ve started drafting a tumblr tutorial but I wonder if that’s the best format, maybe a PDF? Google doc? Github wikis look cool? (tho I think I need to pay for that) - if y’all got suggestions for tutorial formats pls let me know!

As for the other arguably overly-ambitious-project-where-I-bit-off-more-than-I-could-chew ...

H A I R.

Hair has been the bane of my existence for about the past week( ... weeks? Maybe two?), most of it involving cursing, a lot of reverse-engineering game meshes and smashing my head against blender. But if not already evident from my monowire post - I am a stubborn bitch with too much time on my hands so even though there were at least two moments where I wanted to curl up on the floor under my desk and just stay there - we got there.

This all started because my favourite hair mod which I cannot split from my V’s identity was acting funky and the shape of it had been altered since a physics update. It wasn’t her anymore. So I needed new hair. I tried editing the existing hair. I tried importing the old hair mesh. I tried so many things and they didn’t work out one way or they threw a million errors or there were an obnoxious amount of verts.

I even tried looking for replacement mod hair. None of them fit, all of them felt too ‘clean’ for my V. So I just concluded: FINE. I’ll make my own damn hair. From scratch. At least then I’ll actually KNOW what’s going on with the mesh, right?

Problem with hair is tutorials are very limited in respect to Cyberpunk, so I had to learn a lot of this by myself and looking at other processes used for building game hair. I’ve had a previous stint in game design at uni but it was very introductory and more broad-strokes concepts not specific stuff like what ‘real time hair’ is and how you actually go about placing hair-cards (there’s a million different ways btw) but after another 3 days smashing my head against blender I finally got shit to work to a satisfactory level using hair tools for blender and the particle hair grooming system (not the 3.5 blender system, maybe more on that at some point).

Putting together the hair cards I was 120% convinced this was going to blow up in my face, primarily through vert count. But this hair tool plugin? Alarmingly efficient. I was frequently checking my work against Alt's hair mesh (one I was planning on rigging to) and here's the final-ish stats -

This is with only Alt's hair mesh selected (no cap) and then only my mesh(s - lots of layering to build it up), and by comparison I felt I'd built up the density of a chinchilla. This is not a brag, this is mostly genuine confusion over how efficient this plugin is, all I did was smack around hair curves. It did all the UV mapping junk on the fly.

Although structurally complete, I still consider this a WIP (yes I know there's a reeeeal fun vert funkiness in that second render, it's been fixed) since I'm having to go back and fine-tune some of the UV's the plugins mapped that I'm not happy with and generally figuring out my density problem because if anything, after putting it in-game it felt too dense.

Because yes, somehow I got it in game.

WITH. PHYSICS.

This may have driven me absolutely up the wall between having to learn blender from scratch then what the heck real time hair is and how that works etc. etc. but ... god, seeing her move back from the mirror and just feeling that instant catharsis of 'IT'S HER!' made it so. Damn. Worth it.

It looks too thick - this might be because I chucked in the 'doubled' feature Wolvenkit comes with because I hadn't spent any time doing backfaces. But it also might be because it's black? That's going to need investigating.

The physics need a lot of work too, I did a pretty rushed weight painting job last night on a merged version of the mesh because I was worried whether it was even viable and I'd already dumped an insane amount of hours into this between trying to salvage the old hair and building a new one (with some more bells and whistles. Mainly - curly). That wasn't without it's issues -

This almost fucking cracked me, given this was one of the issues I was experiencing before trying to fix an existing mesh mod. Turns out I was just being dumb and forgetting to export the armature, which I'd thought I wasn't supposed to do after having blender throw a bunch of errors on other hair attempts. I gave it a try after one last shot and boom. Worked. (I dunno what those errors were about man but now I know armature? very important).

Will I release this hair? no damn clue, depends on if I can get it to a level I feel is 'releasable'. I already know what I'm calling it though - Venatrix her side-handle I've decided on.

I look forward to adapting it into maybe a comb-back version, as well as a tied up version, so I can show off both her undercut + have the option of NOT hiding every damn tatt I've obsessed over placing on her neck haha.

In other news -

My much-needed wacom tablet replacement arrived (as well as other things I was looking forward to 👀) meaning my Wacom Cintiq, workhorse of ten years can finally enjoy her retirement. Her controls were getting funky, she had a few dead pixels but man. I'm convinced they won't make them like her ever again. Either way she's done unfortunately - upgrading my monitor to 2k made this painfully obvious. I don't think it's even running in full HD, it's that old. And with Phantom Liberty coming out this year? I'm probably going to need a new videocard and DVI compatibility isn't really a thing anymore.

So for future I think I'll just stick to the basic tablet set up, invest in screens. Also now I FINALLY know what her hair is gonna look like and with the tablet here, I can get back to work on the tattoo bodysuit.

Anyways, that's it for now! (Jesus Christ did you really read all of this? If you did you're a fucking trooper). Sorry for the extended ramble but MAN I did a lot, I needed to yell.

Till next time Chooms! Thanks again @theviridianbunny for the tag~ <3

Oh shit wait, have the blender renders before I forget because hahah I figured out how to do that too lol -

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 modding #my mods #wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 mods #kerytalk #god I am sorry this is a fucking essay but I had a lot to talk about I guess #one can do a lot in a week with nothing but the power of autistic hyperfocus and the love for one's OC blorbo ok

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slavishslap · 12 days

Text

Jill Valentine | Tickle HC's

Hi. I'm living. I'm alive. I've actually been drafting loads of stuff as of recently. Really gotten into writing so seems like a good time to do a little attempted return to this account! Thought a good return would be to drop a few HCs for characters I really like. I played a lot of Resident Evil recently, so thought I would start these off with my favourite of the characters. Enjoy!

Ler

Only has two modes, either super gentle and teasy, or pinning down, absolutely wrecking someone's worst spots.

Will never pass up an opportunity to revenge tickle someone.

If she wants to tickle someone, they will be tickled, no matter what. She'll chase someone if she has to.

Very pinchy and scratchy tickles. Fully utilises her nails on her lee.

Very teasy. She will constantly remind you just how ticklish you are. "Is a little someone ticklish? Hmm?"

Also things like "I'm barely even touching you..." "Oooh, you're really ticklish here, huh... I might have to just keep tickling right here, what d'ya think?"

Will lock eyes the entire time, always with a huge smirk on her face.

Repeats the phrases "Tickle tickle tickle!" or "Coochie coochie coo!" Every 5 seconds when tickling.

Finds squeals, squeaks, or any other slightly different variation of laughter very cute, and will let you know. "What was that noise! I have to hear that again!"

Always gradually slows her attacks, until she's barley scratching her lee, before she actually stops.

Will continue to tease after she's finished. "Aw, you poor ticklish thing, huh?" "Can you breathe now? Can you talk normally now?"

Lee

Maybe surprisingly, she's unbelievably ticklish.

But will (try and fail to) deny it til the end. Ask her if she's ticklish and you'll recieve the most serious, yet guilty, glare ever. "...No..."

Her worst spots are her ribs and thighs.

Cannot take two different spots being tickled at the same time at all.

Usually not as ticklish against softer, more gentle methods. Although, scratching your nails down her ribs/sides will absolutely kill her every time.

Actually very bad at fighting back. Getting tickled sends her into such a squirming frenzy that she can barely control her own movements.

As such very jumpy. A single poke to the side can send her flying.

Massive squealer. Very high pitched and squeaky. But really tickle her bad and she'll turn to an almost silent laughter.

Always yells "Help!" Even if there's no one else around. "I hate you!" Is another one of her favourite things to giggle out.

Very susceptible to visual teasing. Wiggle your fingers in the air over her and she'll immediately go bright red and start giggling, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.

Gets very sweaty. Her hair always ends up stuck to her face by the end of a wrecking.

Be prepared to run once she's fully regained her composure, because she will be after revenge.

That's all for her, thanks for reading! Wanted to put a lil note here at the end just to say that while I am back on here, I already have loads more headcanons to drop, at least 5 other characters in the writing, but would love to hear any actual fanfic requests. I know a fandom list would probably help (and I will eventually write one) but as long as it's the same series as something I've done before, I'd definitely be happy writing for it again.

#resident evil tickles #resident evil #tickle hcs #tickle headcanons #sfw tickling #jill valentine #ticklish!jill valentine #lee!jill #ler!jill

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dragonairice · 28 days

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first-draft snippet of chapter 4!! i don't know if it's ooc but I just like to write hundreds of words of jeremy being absolutely clueless

Day 2/??? - Approximately early morning.

Jeremy’s (frankly embarrassing) haze of purple lullabies and the best night’s sleep he’d ever had in his life were very abruptly ended when he felt cold water splash his face. Ah, now cold water dares make an entrance? When he was already in peace? Rude.

He sensed his panic creep in from a mile away, in the second between “what the hell” and “this is the second time I have had to process that I’m not dreaming.” But the first motive for panic cancelled the second out, since once he opened his eyes he saw a better reason to worry.

A woman. She looked angry, and although Jeremy deeply wished that anger wasn’t directed at him, he figured there wasn’t anyone else around. Great.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a pathetic and embarrassing and girly scream came out of his throat. Double great.

The woman looked like she was about to beat him up, like she was a hunter and him a damn cockroach appearing in the bathroom. But instead of vandalizing his backpack, she asked him brusquely:

“Why are you here?” Jeremy wished he could answer. Or at least being able to articulate that he wished he could answer.

He curled up tighter against the grass. Like that would have helped anywhere, he thought, since it definitely hadn’t the last 2 times. He could feel his annoying heartbeat already speeding up, what was the fight or flight response for, if he always freezed?

The scary woman looked unimpressed and slightly annoyed. (That was never a good look on someone that looks like they could beat you up. “Amazing job, Jer,” he scolded himself.)

He was promptly grabbed by the shirt and lifted from the ground. It always seemed funny, in retrospective, that he chose to notice little details when he panicked. Yes, he was so scared he might vomit in this woman’s face. Yes, he could also see that the necklace she bore had a half-heart, one of those “best/friends” necklaces 10-year-old girls bought at the mall and that was all the front tab of his brain would focus on. Shut up.

His examination was paused when the woman yelled in his face, a very scary “Who are you and why are you here?”

That did the trick.

“Jeremy! I’m Jeremy! I don’t know where I am please don’t hit me,” he blurted.(“Very impressive, Jer, what a way with words you have,” he thought sarcastically.) But the woman didn’t hit him, so he marked it as a success. (However, the option wasn't discarded in his brain, and he stayed alert for a change in her attitude.)

She let him go, and he very ungracefully fell on his back. Yay.

“Alright, Jeremy,” she spat, very literally spat while she spoke. He didn’t know if spit carried bacteria in this weird space but he still didn’t like it much. “Tell me everything you know, right now, or I swear respawning will be your worst nightmare.”

He had heard better threats, by far more eloquent videogame enemies, but he wasn’t exactly in the position to be picky on dialogue. He was in the position of getting beaten up.

He was not that stupid as to not infer, from the situation, that “everything” was related to the very recent “everything”s he had been experiencing. Only after a few seconds it occurred to him that he hadn’t said anything. Brilliant.

“I, um, I, I think it was, um, yesterday? And I wasn’t here but, I, I, um, bought a game with my friend and I woke up here,” he said, eloquently.

“Right.” The woman looked like she was expecting him to go on. Ah.

“And, um. There was a, a green field? Robotic voice from the, the sky and. Yeah, then it shocked me a lot.” He paused for air, then realized his mistake, “I mean shocked me as in the electric kind, not the ‘wow’ kind. Well, the ‘wow’ kind too, but in a bad way. Very bad ‘wow’, you know?” He chuckled in hopes that it would relieve the tension. It did not. Wow. Shocking.

The woman scanned him. What she was doing was only describable as “scanning”. Her eyes were brown and bright, but not in a Michael, warm way. They were bright like a knife’s gleam.

He did what he did best: keep talking and making things worse.

“And I, there was kind of a beam? Bright light, and I woke up here. Hah, Heere.” He mumbled at a possibly very annoying speed “Sorry, I mean, then I rolled a bit on this, um, purple hill?”

The woman stared at him for a few minutes. It was very uncomfortable, and all he could do was wait for her to stop doing so. Which was uncomfortable too. He used the nervous time to properly look at his possible future bully.

The woman was tall, strong and scary. Long hair tied in a- braid, it looked like. Poofy hair, like that girl that sit in front of him in History class last year. But that girl was shorter and paler, and this woman was about to beat the living daylights out of him. a red shirt, like the ones he saw on that period drama with Michael last winter.

She looked like a proper human-rogue, with all of the little bags on her belt and the cloak around her shoulders. The golden tattoos- tattoos? The golden marks (“it was so rude of me to assume they were tattoos, oh my god”) spiraling around her dark arms weren’t helping her beat the Cool D&D Avatar allegations Jeremy’s brain had already offered. Then he remembered how the sky robot voice hadn’t offered D&D classes as options for whatever the hell this was, and the thought was sadly shut down. Damn.

“Look, kid, I’m sorry, but you have to leave. It’s not,” she paused. Jeremy was getting sick of being stared at, it was like being back at school. “It’s not a fun game, it’s a game in a very… very bad way. It’s not a game for you, it’s a game for him. You need to leave.” She explained. Or tried to explain, because Jeremy wasn’t feeling more enlightened than he did when she woke him up.

Her voice sounded tired, he noticed, but pointing it out would be rude, and he wasn’t about to be rude to this scary woman.

He had been worrying more about being rude lately. Since when was he so polite? (“Since you actually interact with people, because you don’t have to worry about that if you don’t talk to anyone,” a saccharine voice that sounded like Michael’s sarcasm chirped in his head.)

He needed to reply right this instant.

“Yeah, eh, I would definitely like to, to leave? I really would but, uh, I don’t know how. I’m sorry,” he said, quieter than he would have liked. Then it occurred to him that this woman should know how to do so! This woman was telling him to leave, she could tell him how to leave and then he would leave and go back to his life and wake up and realize all of this was a very very realistic slushie-induced coma dream! Great, fantastic even!

It also occurred to him that he didn’t know this woman’s name. Ah, there went his concerns about not being rude towards people that could beat him up. Since she hadn’t said anything yet, he should hurry up and fix that.

“I, um, what’s your name? Also, how do I leave? I swear I won’t bother you anymore once I do!”

She stared at him, and it really sucked to be stared at.

“You don’t have to tell me! It’s ok, I will try to figure it out on my own just, um, it would probably take a while. I’m sorry.”

She sighed, looking disappointed on him. Or maybe that was just his nerves?

“I’m Myrene. And I was hoping you’d know how to leave by default. Or that when another player arrived it would be someone else. Sorry for picking you up, kid.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to stare at the wom- at Myrene.

“So, you don’t know how to leave?” That came out wrong, very very wrong and he sounded like he was mocking her. Shit. “It’s a, a genuine question, I’m sorry for the tone!” Saved it, great.

She sighed and, before Jeremy could feel bad about it, she offered him a hand to get up. And he stared like an idiot at it for several seconds, because of course he did, before accepting the offer and thanking whoever was up there that she hadn’t punched his lights out.

“You can follow me if you want, I won’t force you. But a kid like you shouldn’t be bumbling around this place,” she said. To be honest, Jeremy was very relieved that he had something to do instead of processing the panic that had been bottling up inside him since he woke up. And she seemed to know what she was doing, so…

He decided to follow a stranger to a second location, greatl! Fine, cool, chill.

Oh this probably was supposed to be first but my phone messed up my inbox woopsies

One thing I noticed - "what was the fight or flight response for, if he always freezed?" should be "if he always froze"

BUT OTHER THAN THAT I ADORE THIS IT'S SO VERY COOL <33

Jeremy continues to point out the D&D parallels peace and love

ALso poitning pointing pointing Autism

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erseac · 4 months

Text

Year-end wrap

I dunno, I just felt like writing something. This year has been a lot of fun in terms of writing fanfic for me!

I started writing smut fics, and I found that I really enjoy it. Whether I'm any good at it, dunno, that's for you to tell, but I do know that I enjoy re-reading my stories.

I also wrote smut poetry for the first time, and I can tell you that I am definitely not good at it. But I did have a lot of fun, and now for any new fic I can say "at least this is not the silliest thing I ever wrote".

As part of that I also started this E-rated second account, both here and on Tumblr, which was interesting (I'm nowhere near active enough on this Tumblr). And I started using Discord, which was a lot of fun. I'm not the most active Discorder, but the talk and community there is way different from what I was used to on just Tumblr and Ao3. I really appreciate all of you!

Current state: Six proper fics and one silly poem. The arguably best and certainly most popular is Fancy Jewelry. My personal favorite is definitely For Science!, though.

Future outlook: I started November with six active WIPs (more or less, leaning towards less), working titles (feel free to ask for details if you're interested):

Nino (multi-chapter)

Adrinette (multi-chapter)

Revealatrix (one-shot)

Chlobrinette (one-shot)

Cruise (multi-chapter)

Alyagaminette (one-shot)

My plan was to finish one of those first before starting something new.

Since then I started something new, specifically

Chloé pictures (three chapters)

But I wasn't going to start anything new before finishing that.

Before finishing that I also started

Marigami misunderstanding (one-shot)

The latter will probably be the first one I post, although most likely next year. The first draft is done, I just hate it and have to rewrite all of it to be better. But I know what's missing and how to write it, so that shouldn't be an issue. I'm just waiting for a bit (and working on Chloé pictures in the meantime, plus some offline stuff) until my hatred for the first draft has died down, and I can re-read it and go "actually some parts of this aren't terrible".

Or maybe I'll start another WIP. I saw this one prompt that… no, I'll try to stay focused for now.

#miraculous ladybug

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adelaidedrubman · 1 year

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[ask-delivery opossum]=> ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 12, 13 and 15 (saying Jestiny for four won’t count btw 🤠)

LOOK AT THE LITTLE OPOSSUM. copy pasting stealing that. THANK YOU GIGI sending you and the opossum kisses<33

2. Who’s your least favorite to write?

hm. joseph’s voice is annoying. sorry to this man love him and all but. get different speech patterns. “mine is the face of truth!” who talks like that i’m going to kill you. i can write him in “on” public persona mode well enough but... things like last wildfire chapter when i had to make him a source of factual info dump? pain suffering. jacob is also not that personally easy/fun to write for me compared to others but i don’t have the same sense of “am i doing this wrong???” as i do with joseph so it’s less stressful.

4. Which character(s) do you love to hate?

i would say john but that also kinda feels like cheating tbh? i feel like all john writers hate john at least a little. nature of john. i love to hate him in the sense of he’s annoying and i enjoy making him suffer. joseph is also fun to put through it although it’s usually more in backdrop. still. funny when he suffers.

5. What’s the easiest thing to write for you?

also john. nature of john writing. i’m pissed off and annoyed the entire time but his pov feels second nature to me at this point so. what can you do

in terms of genre, definitely comedy. there at least has to be some undertone of humor in most of what i write. also dialogue. especially johnjess dialogue. shrek voice it’s getting them to shut up that’s the trick

6. What’s the hardest thing to write for you?

probably like. genuine fluff? like i can do sweet moments but it always has to be in spite of something. also scenery descriptions are still a bitch to me after all these years. OH and action. i fucking hate writing action scenes.

7. Do you plan everything out before you write or do you sit down and go with the flow?

i’ve only very recently started forcing myself to properly outline as wildfire has gotten unwieldy and i’ve begun reaching crucial enough no turning back plot points that it genuinely would be like “oh fuck!! house of cards collapses!” if i forget something. even then i have like. the next three chapters outlined and it’s in notes app and it looks like this (example from last chapter, it was this to draft one with no inbetween steps):

in general i do plan a lot out though sort of. combing things over in my head even if i don’t write it down. and i have most major plot points of wildfire decided already. like i have a very clear image and language in my mind for the Final Scene. we’ll see if i get there. for oneshots i tend to just vibe because they’re more about having a little fun and flexing the muscles for me anyways.

12. What is one character you love but rarely/never write?

i guess not rarely/never but i don’t write faith nearly as much as i want to. i mean, tbh i guess i write faith more than fandom average lmao and she was like. the first character i ever wrote when i joined the fandom. but still not as much as i want bc a lot of it stays in drafts or is eclipsed by. you know.

i wish i’d gotten to write jess black more, i can’t believe ive only done one scene she’s probably my second favorite gfh.

13. Is there one character that always fights you when you try writing them?

JESTINY. the most i ever sympathize with john is when i want to get her to do something very simple and she explains to me the convoluted thirty five step intricate ritual it will take to get her to do it and i want to pull my hair out. like girl. sit on the fucking hay bale already.

15. What two characters did you never expect to work together?

well, in the sense that they don’t... mary may and jestiny. like they were always supposed to have most of the beef they have in wildfire (particularly in that mary may was always supposed to be a representation of jessie’s genuine breakdown in ability to empathize with Nice, Normal Folks) but i guess i didn’t expect their frenemiship to be as popular as it is or have as much chemistry to it? chemistry in the sense of lack of chemistry. but they have a compelling dynamic i didn’t fully expect. the real slowburn is when mary may finally gets to punch jessie in the face so hard.

#thank you beloved!!

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pebblysand · 1 year

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Director's Cut! Way Specific Scene.

i really adore the description in this, because it helps me really visualize it--how harry and ginny are positioned relative to one another, how what they're looking at instead of one another reveals how they are feeling.

I am curious, and you need not answer if you would prefer not to, how you were able to craft this, what your process was, because it seems (forgive me if I'm making bold assertions) like a thing that would be difficult to do given what you've mentioned about how visualization is harder for you than it might be for others.

do you, like, do the actions yourself and then capture each movement in words?

thank you so much for both your amazing writing and your willingness to engage beyond the published text--i feel so very blessed by both aspects of the goddess pebblysand. 🌸

Yeah, this is a super interesting question. This paragraph involved... an embarrassing amount of effort lol. I re-drafted it a number of times haha. It's definitely one those where, generally, *I* don't see anything in that description and I would very happily have moved on without it, but I hear @copper-dust's voice in my head being like: "DETAILS! VISUALS!" so I... yield to the voice in my head lol.

I think I've become more aware of my own limitations in the past year and have, as such, made a conscious effort to adapt. It doesn't mean that I'm changing my style, I'm never going to be a "visual" author, but I can make certain adjustments, you know? This scene could have further details on the colour of the grass and the flow of the waves, and the birds in the sky or whatever, but you're going to have to go someone else's fic to find that cause my brain is incapable, haha. Again, we're making lemonade with the lemons we have, here, you know?

That said, I've noticed I find it easier to generally add visuals at the beginning of scenes (this one and the one with Kingsley and the description of his office earlier in the chapter come to mind) because it's a place where I have mental space to remember to add them, as opposed to later when I'm so focused on the action, dialogue, etc. that it a) wouldn't occur to me and b) would distract me and annoy me as a reader lol. So, usually, every time I get to a new location, I try to force myself to describe it the best I can these days. (Ah, all the sacrifices I make for you, visual people 😅)

To answer your question about my process though, in this case, I just stop and think: how would these people sit? And, so: Ginny would be the kind of girl who sits cross-legged with her skirt over her legs because she wants to look at people when she talks to them. Harry - this is going to sound Very Strange, but I have a whole headcanon from a fic I've started working on but not yet published about the fact that he always sits in a way that make it easy for him to get up and run in one swift-motion. So, he always has at least one foot solidly on the ground, which is the case here. But, if he had both knees up (and feet on the ground), his second leg would be a sort of fence between them, he'd be a lot less relaxed and open towards her with both knees pulled up, which we don't want, because this is a scene where they're having a dialogue.

This conundrum honestly did led me at one point to sitting on the floor of my apartment, trying to find a position for him that worked. Sometimes, I think my neighbours probably think I'm totally cray lol. Then, describing as best as I could, adding in distance (3 or 4 feet cause I'm never bloody sure what a fucking foot is, please adopt metres people!) and light from the sun because it's a hot spring day and I wanted to convey that. She's in the shade because she's not Stupid; I headcanon that Harry's skin is on the "darker" side for a white person (a bit like my own, tbh, is that a self-insert? lmao) and that he tans pretty easily, meaning that he likes to think he never gets burnt, although that is totally Not True. I honestly think about these things too much lol.

Then, their looks are, as you said, also a symbol. She is looking at the castle - which she hates - and he is looking at the water. They're both not looking at each other, though their actual body language is very relaxed and open. That's the contrast I wanted to play with, for obvious reasons as this chapter is very ambivalent.

But, honestly, I almost deleted that paragraph before I published cause it bored me. I'm now glad I didn't, haha.

#castles #asked and answered #aphantasia

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londonhalcyon · 2 years

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OH YESSSS. Gimme 13, 24, 29, 48 <3

And here you go!

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished

Ohhh…impulsive? If I don’t have a deadline to meet, the process usually begins with me daydreaming about a character or scene…and daydreaming and daydreaming until the idea is firmly lodged in my head. If it stays stuck long enough, I might write down a few lines of dialogue, a character describing another character, or even the whole scene, which usually is somewhere in the middle of the story. Often, I’ll stop there, but if the idea is still stuck, I might write down a few more ideas to see how they could fit together in a full story. If the work is longer, I’ll at least create a vague outline for it. Then I start writing from the beginning and see what happens. I write and post on a chapter by chapter basis for most of my works, although initially I’ll have multiple chapters ready to go before I first post, just to make sure everything works.

I technically go through three drafts of each chapter, but I have the habit of editing as I write, so not much changes in the later drafts. I’m getting better at letting my rough drafts actually be rough though—if I get stuck or am unhappy with a line, I move on and come back to it later. If I’m really stuck, I’ll switch to writing on paper, or if I’m really really stuck, switch to typing in Comic Sans (it works). Second draft, I’ll fill in the gaps, add proper transitions, polish dialogue, flesh out details, etc. Third draft is a dental draft where I adjust word choice, fix grammar mistakes, and tackle anything I didn’t catch in the earlier drafts. If I haven’t already, I definitely read this draft aloud to make sure everything sounds okay. If I’m happy with everything (or at least don’t hate it), then I hit post. And that’s the gist!

24. Favorite genre to write and read

To write: fantasy! Both high fantasy and urban. I also enjoy writing anything to do with the supernatural and/or paranormal. To read: all of the above, along with sci-fi, mystery, and the occasional historical fiction.

29. Favorite villain

It’s a tie between the Ingram sisters. Linnet’s not quite a villain, but she does end up doing something delightfully bad later on. Celandine, though—not only does she know she’s a villain, she enjoys it, and all I can say is I’m excited for when she finally shows up.

48. What’s the most self-insert character/scene you’ve ever written?

It’s another tie. Actually, my original version of Angel, from my Murdered: Soul Suspect longfic, might just win. When I first started that fic (I was 15), I gave her my appearance, a lot of my background (e.g., a writer, homeschooled, similar family members), and had her spout my opinions and beliefs. When I began rewriting the fic several years later, I scrapped most of that and let her develop her own personality, which worked so much better (but then I abandoned the whole fic—oops).

This later version of Angel ties with Ava from “The Scarlett Cauldron,” who was supposed to be a self-insert. I gave her a similar (but not quite) appearance and a few small details from my background, but in the first chapter she immediately started saying and doing things I would never do and decided to become a completely different person all on her own (*cough*straight*cough*), which is definitely for the best.

Thanks for the ask, Bori!

Answers from this ask game. Have already answered 11, 32, and 40. In progress are 38 and 43.

#ask the mad witch #the mad witch

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leviiattacks · 3 years

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CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)

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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 3 years

Text

Spring Troupe with an S/O Who Shares the Same Hobby

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing these. Hope y’all enjoy! I’ll eventually write these for the other troupe’s as well :)

CW(s): none

❀ Sakuya Sakuma - Theatre

Sakuya absolutely adores the fact you love theatre, as it’s such a huge passion of his

He’ll definitely ask for your help when rehearsing and memorizing lines or when practicing blocking by himself. He’ll look to you for advice at times as well whenever he’s a bit stuck.

If you’re also in theatre productions, he’ll always offer to help you with the same things and will try to give constructive criticism to you too if you ask for it

He will definitely show up to all of your performances, his theatre schedule permitting, whenever you are in a show. Doesn’t matter if you’re ensemble or the lead, he’s so incredibly proud of you and wants to cheer you on

Whenever you go to his performances he’s so grateful and swears up and down he’s performances are always a little bit better when you’re there.

Be prepared to go on theatre dates; if there’s a performance he wants to see, he’ll be sure to invite you and he hopes you’ll do the same

Sakuya looked over at you, excitement written plainly on his face. You couldn’t help but smile in response. The two of you were waiting in line to see a new theatre performance that was set to premiere that day, and you were both vibrating with excitement. Sakuya squeezed your hand and smiled at you again.

“Excited?”

“Extremely.” The line moved forward and the two of you made your way inside. As soon as you sat down and the lights began to dim, Sakuya squeezed your hand again and placed a soft kiss on the side of your face.

“Thank you for coming with me.” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The fact that he can do something he loves, with someone he loves, means the absolute world to him

❀ Masumi Usui - Music

Masumi has a passion for music and the fact you do too is just another reason he loves you

He’ll definitely share his favorite CDs with you, and even make you playlists! He’ll also create special music CDs for music he recommends or just songs that remind him of you

He starts to carry earbuds on his person so you two can listen to music together no matter where you are, and if he forgets his pair he knows you most likely have your pair on you

Sometimes, when you’re spending time together, the two of you just listen to music and bask in each others presence

He’ll share a lot of alternative rock with you as it’s his favorite genre, but he’ll listen to almost anything

Even if your favorite genre isn’t his favorite, he’ll still listen to and appreciate every song you send to him

‘Hey babe!’ you texted Masumi, ‘this song reminded me of you ♡ it’s called Same Boat by LizzyMcAlpine! It’s not your usual genre but I hope you like it anyways! (Ɔ ˘⌣˘)♥(˘⌣˘ C) ‘

Masumi read the text message in his dorm, smiling to himself. He opened YouTube and typed in the title and quickly clicked a lyric video. You were right, the song was incredibly far from his favorite genre. The song was slow and soft, but somewhat pretty nonetheless.

As the song ended he opened up your text chat again. ‘I am in the same boat ♡ love you so much’ he typed out.

‘Love you too, Masumi!’ He couldn’t help but smile at his phone once more, absolutely enamored with you.

Masumi just adores the fact he share his hobby with you, and you can understand where he’s coming from when it comes to his love for music

❀ Tsuzuru Minagi - Writing

Tsuzuru finds it incredibly helpful that you also like to write, no matter if it’s script writing, poetry, non-fiction, or stories

If you do more creative writing he’ll definitely bounce ideas off of you and have you peer review some of his work to make sure it makes sense -especially since he writes a lot of his work while practically dead-. If you write more nonfiction, he may ask for help with research whenever he’s writing a historical play or anything of that such.

If you ask him to, he’ll peer edit and review your work as well. He may not always do the best job, especially if he just finished a script

Remind him to sleep and rest! You especially understand what it’s like to overwork yourself so your reminders almost mean more to him. He’ll also remind you to rest, which is quite hypocritical but he does it because he cares about you.

You were working on the final draft of your writing project when you received a phone call. The name on the screen read, ‘Tsuzuru’. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend's name.

You answered the phone. “Hey Tsuzuru!’

“Hey! I know you’ve been working on that project lately so I just wanted to remind you to go to sleep. The project will still be there in the morning and you’ll be able to work on it better after you rest.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Tsuzuru, you’re working on a script right now, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll listen to your words only if you heed your own advice. You can finish the script in the morning and you’ll do better after you rest. ‘Kay?”

Tsuzuru laughed then. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Then I’ll try as well. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He also always hypes up your writing! He adores it so much and thinks you’re incredibly talented

❀ Itaru Chigasaki - Video Games

One of the reasons Itaru originally decided to pursue a relationship with you was because of your love for video games

He loves to recommend you games, and he’ll play any and all of the games you recommend him

You can bet you’ll have video game dates. Whether this means you backseat gaming as he uses the controller or vice versa or even playing multiplayer depends on the day.

“You have to go down!”

“No, the extra bonus isn’t here, it’s further down.”

“No no, trust me, Itaru, it’s here I’ve played this game like a bajillion times.”

“And I’ve played it a bajillion and one times.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, although he couldn’t see it. He was lying on his back on the couch, and you cuddled on top of him with his arms around you as he held the controller.

“Please just at least look?” you asked.

“Fine.” You watched the playable character move out of the screen as the game faded to black. Once the game faded back in, you could see the bonus chest in the hidden room. “See! I told you!” you yelled, laughing the entire time.

“I can’t believe you proved me wrong.” he laughed too, although there was a hint of frustration in his voice. You craned your neck to kiss Itaru on the jaw.

“It’s okay, it was more of a lucky guess. Also I played this game before coming over so I could see where the hidden items were.”

Itaru will go with you to gaming stores, and will definitely use you as an excuse for being there in case he runs into a coworker. But it’s alright, as he’ll give you an apology kiss afterwards.

If you ever need help beating a game, he’ll always be there to help and give advice. And if you play gacha, he may help donate to the cause of you pulling your best boy or girl

❀ Citron - Learning New Words

Citron loves to learn new words, and if you do as well, then he’d love to learn new words with you!

He’ll definitely just flip through a dictionary with you, learning how to pronounce new words and learning their definitions

The two of you were lying on the floor of Citron’s dorm on your bellies next to each other. Between you was a dictionary.

“Letter?” you asked.

“F.”

“Alright.” You found the ‘F’ section in the dictionary and flipped to a random page, closing your eyes and pointing to a random spot.

“Fas-mill?” Citron sounded confused.

You looked at the pronunciation key. “I think it’s fac-SIH-muh-lee.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Facsimile. What does the word mean?”

“It says it means ‘an exact copy or reproduction, as of a document’. So I guess, like, whenever the director makes a copy of Tsuzuru’s scripts for you guys to memorize it’s a facsimile.”

“Oh! That makes a lot of sense. Thank you!” Citron gave you a kiss on the cheek after he finished speaking.

Sometimes your dates just consist of flipping through a dictionary and learning new words. The two of you have a lot of fun, even if others may find it odd

Sometimes he’ll tell you stories from his homeland using the new words you learned even if he doesn’t always use them correctly

❀ Chikage Utsuki - Spicy Food

Chikage is so happy someone else finally loves spicy food close to as much as he does

He may ask you for help when writing his reviews, as getting a second opinion can definitely help him at times

He’ll take you to his favorite spicy food restaurants for dates and will ask if he can order for you as he’s eaten at these restaurants so many times, he practically has their menus memorized. Because of this, he has an idea of what is good and what isn’t and you’re most likely to like

Chikage had asked if he could order your meal for you and you and you had agreed, trusting him to get you something you’d like.

A plate was soon placed in front of you and you promptly decided it looked absolutely delicious. You took a bite.

“So? How is it?”

“It’s amazing, oh my god.” you responded, your mouth still somewhat full of food.

“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry,” you replied, but your mouth still had food in it. Chikage shook his head.

“Well, I’m glad you like it. I figured you would.”

Sometimes he’ll sneak extra spice into your food- whether it’s as a ‘prank’ or not is really anyone’s guess

Sometimes, as a date, the two of you will order spicy food from a bunch of restaurants and try them all, critiquing them as if you’re professional food reviewers although you could argue Chikage kind of is

· · ─────── · ☆ · ─────── · ·

Masterlists || FaQ || Requesting Rules/Remarks

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mendespideys · 3 years

Text

rescue | t.h.

pairing: tom holland x lifeguard!reader

warnings: drowning, i guess, although it is definitely not mentioned or described but still. staying under water a lil bit longer than what’s normal?

summary: you’re a lifeguard and when tom is playing in the pool with harrison and stays under for too long, you come to his aid

a/n: soo... apparently this was supposed to be for a writing contest hosted by @sunshinehollandd and @naturallytom that i never finished. oops 🤭

i found it among my 92 drafts and decided to finish it - sort of. It’s more a quick drabble than anything (that i am not proud of) but oh well. at least it’s something, right? so enjoy!

With your brand new sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose, you settle back into the chair towering above the pool guests. The sun beams down from above, toasting the back of your neck that the umbrella was unable to protect.

The endless laughter from children, the frustrated scolds from parents, and the splashing of the water beneath you blend together into mere background noise. You shift in your seat, fishing out your bottle from your backpack. To be fair, it’s more a block of ice than water, but your throat relishes the few drops that do fall out as you tip the bottle upwards.

While you knew your job needed the upmost level of detail, you no longer felt the constant need to pay attention to every single guest. You had been at this long enough to trust your body to react on its own accord and was nowhere near as uptight as you had been your first day.

Relaxing back into your chair, you let your hidden gaze glide across the people that had taken the trip to your turf today. One of your favorite parts of the job, contrary to what some people might think, was the people watching. There is just something about observing people as they unknowingly go about their day.

Your eyes fall on Mina first. The fourteen year old girl is always there so it comes as no surprise. You watch proudly as she practices her butterfly stroke. Her ceaseless training had done wonders for her technique and you make a mental note to compliment her when she eventually gives up for the day.

There are a few other regulars as well. Mr. and Mrs. Norris; the retired couple that would come every weekend to work on their tans. Sasha; the single mom that also comes every weekend with her twin boys, Adam and George. Mr. Thomas; an older gentleman who seemed to enjoy speaking with you more than the actual swimming part. And then there was Paddy, who had just recently started visiting.

The young freckled boy (teenager, Paddy would correct) seemed to also be practicing his techniques much like Mina. There had been a fair share of conversations between the two of you and you had to admit that you enjoyed his company.

Your eyes land on the two men next to him that he appears to be talking to. You refrain the urge to roll your eyes as you keep watching them, their water fight becoming more intense by the second. Paddy seems to be cheering them on, but you can’t make out his words. Boys.

While water fights are definitely not unusual for you to witness, this is different as the young men look to be about your own age. For some reason unbeknownst to you, you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the two of them. Or, more specifically, the tone back muscles of the brunette with his back to you.

They are both extremely attractive - that truth is undeniable. As their playful fighting becomes physical, you finally catch a glimpse of the brunette. The black sunglass that had been nestled in his wet curls were knocked off and long forgotten the second they came in contact with the chlorinated water.

Your brows perked with amusement as you kept your eyes on the two. A little entertainment in an otherwise mundane work day didn’t hurt, right? The brunette almost effortlessly hops onto the blond’s back, a non-threatening chokehold around his neck. The overpowering does not last for long and before either you or him, it seemed, could anticipate it, the blond had successfully knocked him off and into the water.

The blond surfaced rather quickly, a triumphant grin dancing on his lips. You chuckled to yourself quietly, anxiously waiting for the attractive brunette to resurface as well. You were rather curious about how he would handle his loss. However, as a few more seconds pass and still no brown locks to be seen, you’re in full lifeguard mode.

You’re on autopilot. You had trained for years and while you rarely had to actually utilize your skills, it did happen occasionally. Your body doesn’t even react to the temperature difference as your toasted skin comes in contact with the chilled water. You make your way over to the small group in record time, grabbing ahold of the brunette’s arm just as he seems to make his way back up.

His coughs enter your ears as soon as you pull him to the surface and toward the edge of the pool. You’re well-aware of the small audience you have, feeling the burns of their curious stares, but ignore them dutifully and get back to the situation at hand.

He seems to be conscious enough and helps you out by hoisting himself up on the ledge. You pretend not to notice the way his toned biceps tense as he does so. You quickly hoist yourself up as well, the sun immediately resuming its toasting the minute your body is out of the water.

You offer a rather pathetic pat on the back as his ceaseless coughs continue. Eventually, he’s able to halt his coughing, his chest heaving as he tries to get enough air into his lungs without irritating his throat again.

“Are you okay?” you question, hiding your worry behind the professionalism you had adopted summers ago. “See, this is why lifeguards typically frown upon fighting in the water. Playfully or not.”

He nods, finally turning to meet your eyes. You choke down the gasp that involuntarily made its way up your throat. His brown orbs sparkle in the sun and you are immediately mesmerized by their beauty. Still, the way the embarrassment that had been swimming within them was replaced by shock and curiosity the moment they met your gaze didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I-I’m good,” he brown-eyed man responds, swallowing thickly. The corner of his mouth turns upward as he runs a slightly unsteady hand through his wet curls. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“Well, it is my job,” you retort, a playful smile settling on your lips. “Your poor fighting technique was amusing, so I was already watching.”

“You sure that’s the only thing you were watching, darling?” He’s full-on smirking now and you, once again, refrain from rolling your eyes at his childish antics.

“Y/N!”

You turn toward the familiar voice, watching with curious eyes as Paddy swims toward the two of you, the older blond hot on his heel. The freckled teen looks between you and the brunette, not even bothering to hide his amusement. His gaze lands on the brunette who looks at him expectantly.

“This is why I’m the swimmer and you’re the actor, Tom,” Paddy snorts.

Tom. So that was his name.

“Well, Pads, if I had known you were here hanging out with - Y/N, was it? - almost everyday then maybe I’d be here more often and would be a better swimmer.”

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fangirling-is-my-passion · 3 years

Text

🎃 Halloween Special 🎃 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Warnings: none, according to me

Summary: It’s your fifth year at Hogwarts and you decide to change things up a little bit by making a mix between muggle and magical traditions in Halloween.

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I know it's been ages since the last time I posted any of my writings, but I got this idea the other day and I just couldn't let it die in my drafts. It's my first time writing for Draco, so if there's any mistake or stuff way too out of character, please, have mercy on me... 😔🙏 I love you and I really hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween! :) <3

October was finally coming to its end and Halloween was just around the corner, so everybody's excitement was palpable. The Halloween celebration at Hogwarts was one of the most expected by the students and you were definitely not the exception, nonetheless, after already four years of spending the holiday the wizard style, you were kind of starting to miss the muggle celebrations you were so used to when you were only a child.

You missed the costumes so much. Everything was really cool, but why didn't wizards dress up for Halloween? I mean, can you imagine the possibilities?

And so your idea was born: A Halloween celebration in Hogsmeade with your friends and anybody else who wanted to join, but with costumes, like muggles did. It was going to be a little bit of a mix between the two worlds. And it was going to be fantastic.

"Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys!" you said excitedly on Monday morning, sitting at the Gryffindor table in a rush, "I was thinking, why don't we throw a costume party in Hogsmeade the night of Halloween? It could even be at the Three Broomsticks, if we ask for permission, of course, I gotta check that, but, a costume party! What do you think?"

"You mean like the muggle tradition?" asked Hermione.

"Yes! Exactly! I actually don't quite understand why wizards don't dress up for Halloween, but whatever. I think this would be great!"

"Of course, sounds amazing, (Y/N)! But we gotta plan it very well, so I'll help you with the organisation," said Hermione with a lopsided smile.

"Well, sounds like fun, so count me in," said Ron, "By the way, (Y/N), can you pass me the sausages, please?"

"Sure, there you go..."

"I'm definitely in too. It would be my first time dressing up for Halloween, so I wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry added, "Dudley was the one who went trick-or-treating every year; meanwhile I stayed at home, either inside the cupboard or doing whatever chores my aunt could come up with."

"Blimey, Harry, that sucks..." Ron commented before placing another sausage on his plate, which was already brimming with food. Harry simply shrugged.

"Erm, well, great then! I think..." you paused for a second and then added," Let's tell everybody else!"

"Who are you planning to invite?" Hermione questioned; she was definitely taking this organisation thing very seriously.

"I was thinking of simply spreading the word, so anybody who wants to can join."

"Oh, all right. That sounds fine," she said, although she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Are you going to invite your boyfriend then?" Ron inquired with a sly look on his face.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! We're just... acquaintances... who hated each other in the past... but not anymore..."

He referred to no other than Draco Malfoy, the so called Slytherin Prince. At the very beginning of your Hogwarts days, you honestly couldn't stand each other, with all his arrogance and his superiority complex, however, at some point and for some strange and unknown reason to you, he stopped being an utter arsehole, your mutual teasing became more of an inside joke than actual bullying and you kinda started getting along. At least you were able to be in the same room without trying to hex one another.

"Yeaaah, of course, and who also study together in the library..." Ron continued.

"That happened one time!" you exclaimed, a flush creeping across your cheeks, "Or was it twice?"

"Twice" Harry and Ron answered in unison.

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "it happened three times if we count the one where they had to work on the potions project together."

"But that does not count! It was a project! We had to!"

"Mmmmm, it counts because you chose to work together" she explained, a sly tone in her voice.

"That was just because he's the only Slytherin I've had an actual, relatively decent interaction with... Seriously, Hermione? That's not even the point here, guys, let's focus. And yes," you said making emphasis en the 'yes', "I am going to invite him, 'cause, why not? He's probably going to instantly reject the idea anyways, you know how he is." You crossed your arms over the table and took a deep breath.

"Wow", said Ron, "I can't believe you actually said all that without pausing to breathe. However," he said emphasising that last word," I'm telling you, (Y/N), you're gonna end up together. But if you're so sure of the contrary, let's make a bet."

"What?"

"Yes, whoever loses will have to do the winner's homework for a week." Ron smirked.

"A week! Are you nuts?" you exclaimed.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about... Unless you do think you're gonna end up being Malfoy's girlfriend..." His smirk widened and your cheeks went a little pinker than they already were.

"All right, fine. It's settled then. I only hope you're ready to do all my homework for a week, Ronald Weasley."

"We'll see about that."

After a busy and tiring week trying to plan an amazing Halloween party at the same time as doing all your class work, Saturday had finally arrived and everybody was filled with excitement. The news of your party had spread like wildfire and soon you and Hermione had to recalculate the supplies you'd need in order to have enough for every single person who wanted to drop by.

Also, you'd indeed told Draco about the party, nonetheless, just as you thought it would be, he didn't seem very excited about the whole idea... Well, yeah, he might have implied that he would never in his right mind attend a muggle celebration like that and that you were nuts to think of the possibility, however!, he didn't really, explicitly say no, so you'd taken his response as a maybe and still hoped he'd go for at least a little while (wait, why were you hoping that? It's not like you cared that much about him attending or not... Right?)

Since you'd been very busy with all the planning, you'd started working on your costume a little bit late, but you were very satisfied with the result: you were going to be Medusa. I mean, she's iconic! Being able to turn people into stone if they look you in the eye? Wicked! (At some point Harry made a joke comparing Medusa to a basilisk, and I mean, sure, but to be honest he really had to work on his humour). You'd even enchanted a diadem with snakes so they moved like they were alive! (Because, come on, you were committed to this holiday, but let's be sensible, you weren't going to wear actual snakes on your hair, there are levels).

The point is that, like everyone else, you were incredibly excited about your party. And also a bit nervous, you didn't want to screw something up, but you also knew not everything could be perfect and what mattered most was that everybody had fun.

"(Y/N)! Are you ready? We gotta get going!" Hermione called from outside the bathroom of your dormitory. You opened the door and stepped out, ready to rock and roll.

"So? How do I look?" you asked, twirling so she could take a look of your whole costume.

"Intimidatingly gorgeous."

"Oww! Thank you! Wait," you said now focusing on Hermione's costume," what are you wearing? No, no, not that, forget that, but why didn't you tell me you were going to be greek goddess, Hermione?"

"For your information, I am Athena," she said and imitated your twirl, "and I wanted it to be a surprise, I kind of got the idea thanks to you, when you told me you were going to be Medusa."

"Well, yeah... It's perfectly okay, but I would've liked to know before! Also, dressing up as specifically Athena is so you, Hermione, and you look gorgeous, seriously, I'm in love with you. Draco Malfoy who?"

"Is that a confession?" questioned Hermione with a sly smile.

"It's a joke" you clarified rolling your eyes but with a lopsided smile on your face.

"Yeah, sure, truly convincing," your friend said with sarcasm "Anyways, we gotta go now, come on!"

And off you went. You met Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room (Harry had dressed up as a Gryffindor quidditch player who'd been hit in the head by a bludger, and Ron was simply wearing a Chudley Cannons uniform. Boy, if these guys were obsessed with quidditch...) and the four of you headed happily towards the entrance of the castle, where all the students gathered before going to Hogsmeade. In your way there you were able to see a lot of different costumes from the students who were attending your party and you were deeply amused (and amazed) by they're creativity. Wizards should definitely do this more often.

When you finally arrived to the Three Broomsticks, you found the entire place decorated just as you'd imagined, and Madam Rosmerta (whom you'd previously sent a letter asking for her permission to use the place for your party in exchange of a reasonable amount of money, and she very kindly had agreed and even offered to help you with the organisation and setting the ambience too) was just applying the final touches.

"Oh, hello, dears!" she greeted you with a smile; she really was a very beautiful woman, no wonder why Ron and many other students fancied her, "So? What do you think? Is it like you imagined?"

"It definitely is!" you exclaimed looking around the place in awe, "It's truly fantastic, thank you so, so much! Now all we got to do is wait for everybody else to arrive!"

It didn't take too long before the first group of students entered the place, only a couple of minutes after the time of the appointment, and from then on, people just kept flooding the pub.

"All right, guys!" you shouted over the murmurs of the crowd so everybody could hear you and be quiet while you spoke, "Here's what we've got: You are allowed to order two butterbeers free of charge, however, if you want more you'll have to pay them yourselves. Now, there's relatively decent food on that table," you pointed to the table on the corner at your left side," and in that other table next to the entrance you will find a bunch of various sweets that are definitely unhealthy if eaten in excess, so, please, don't get too excited, people," the multitude before you chuckled and you smiled widely," Also, dear Colin here offered to take pictures of whoever asked him to, so if you want one, just let him now... Ah! And I almost forgot, there will be a costume contest at the end, so be sure to write your name down on the scroll that's on that wall,"you said and pointed to the wall opposite to you," if you want to participate. I think that's all for now, so enjoy the party, and Happy Halloween, everybody!"

The crowd cheered and applauded you before returning to their chatting or heading straight to where the food was. You walked towards the bar to tell something to Madam Rosmerta and soon some upbeat Halloween-themed music started playing. At some point, a few students took a corner of the place as improvised dance floor and, frankly, everything was even better than how you'd pictured it at first. And that was saying something.

"Amazing party, (Y/N)! You should totally do this more often!" cheered Fred and George Weasley about and hour after the beginning of the party. They'd dressed up as some quite creepy zombie conjoint twins and you thought it was brilliant.

"Thank you, guys! I'm glad you're having fun!" you shouted over the music, "By the way, I think your costume is brilliant, suits you perfectly!"

"Thanks! Hope it's enough to win that costume contest of yours, but being honest, there's a lot of competition here," Fred replied.

"Yeah, I mean, just look at your costume! You look fantastic!" George continued.

"Oww, well, luckily for you, I'm going to be a judge, so I'm not participating..."

The conversation went on for a couple more minutes until Lee Jordan called the twins to the dance floor.

Although the party was an absolute hit, you couldn't help but think about a certain someone who wasn't there.

"You look a bit disappointed," said Hermione from behind you, making you jump a bit, "Thinking about somebody who didn't come, perhaps?"

Sometimes it was truly scary how Hermione could know so much.

"What? No! What are you talking about?" you asked trying to brush the topic off.

"Will you please stop trying to deny your feelings, (Y/N)?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, it's pretty obvious that Malfoy isn't indifferent to you and, to be fair, I don't really mind! I mean, he's been a lot less annoying since you two started to get along a little better, so go ahead if you fancy him!"

"But what if I don't want to fancy him, Hermione?" you exclaimed finally giving in, "He was pretty awful to us in our first years and, yes, maybe we get along now, and he's been a lot better but... I just... I don't know! I guess I feel a bit guilty about it... Besides,he can still be considerably rude sometimes towards people and, even if we left that aside, what makes you think that he could possibly fancy me? I mean, come on, he didn't even come! And I don't... I don't want to be all head over heels for him or anything, and that's also the reason why I keep denying it! If I talk about it, it becomes more real, so maybe if I simply ignore it, my feelings will go away soon enough!"

Luckily for you, you were wearing your green Medusa makeup, otherwise Hermione would have been able to see your cheeks turn bright red.

"Okay, I understand that..." she said, "But I think you got something wrong there, (Y/N), he did come..."

"What?!"

"He just arrived, look, there he is! It's like you invoked him" You turned to look were Hermione had her eyes fixed. And, of course, she was right, there he was. Looking quite dreamy, but you shouldn't think about that, should you? "I'd give you my whole pep talk, but there's no time, you've got more important things to take care of right now. Just, I don't know, let it flow, okay?... But go on, then! Go with him!" she hurried you. You did as you were told and walked towards him changing your mood instantly and pretending that the previous conversation with Hermione had never happened. Just act normal, you thought.

"So you came!" you greeted him once you'd reached him.

"I did," Draco asserted, "Medusa, huh?" he said looking at you up and down with a raised eyebrow and... was that the spirit of a smirk? Once more your makeup helped you hide your blushing and you tried to act like there weren't some butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

...Ugh, this was exactly why you didn't want to admit you fancied him in the first place!

"Indeed," you replied smirking, "And a vampire, eh? Pretty simple if I'm honest, but you look good."

"I always look good, (Y/L/N), but if I'm honest," he said imitating your tone, "you look pretty good too."

"I always look good, Malfoy."

You explained him what you'd told the crowd at the beginning of the party and he decided to order a butterbeer. Then the conversation between the two of you simply kept on going without much difficulty; for some strange reason the fact that you had feelings for him and yet apparently not a single thing in common with him didn't affect your communication.

"All right, but this is insane," he said at some point, " how did you manage to pull this off? I mean, it must have cost you quite a fortune..."

"Well, I did get help from my friends with the budget, but, yes, I had to negotiate with my parents and trade my Christmas and birthday presents of the next year for some money to do this right."

"You're bloody insane..."

"I think you made that pretty clear when I first invited you to come, and yet here you are," you said with sufficiency, "so I guess I'm not the only one here who's gone a bit nuts."

He huffed and took another sip of his butterbeer. In that moment, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Hermione, who were currently dancing among a bunch of other students, called you and gestured at you to go dance with them. You nodded and turned to Draco in order to tell him that he could stay there while you danced for a while, but before you could articulate anything he said:

"No way you're leaving me here, you're the only person I can actually interact with in a mildly pacific way, so I'm sticking with you."

"Okay... But you're gonna have to dance, then."

"And you think am not qualified for the task?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Are you really always such a showoff?"

"Only when I'm trying to impress somebody," that answer definitely took you by surprise, but you didn't have the chance to say anything, 'cause he added, "Go on, then, they're waiting for you. I'll go right behind."

And so you danced with your friends. And he danced. And you two danced together. And it was pretty unbelievable for everyone, including you, but nobody seemed to mind since they had never seen Draco in such an unproblematic mood.

A couple of hours later, the costume contest finally took place. The prize for the winner was a special package of sweets you'd prepared plus five galleons... Yeaaah, you'd definitely put a lot of effort in the planning of your party, and it had been completely worth it so far.

All the participants formed a line so each one could walk around showing their costume just as if it were a fashion runway. Meanwhile, you were arranging the seats for the judges. And, as a matter of fact, you had one judge missing. Your intention at first had been that there were four judges in the panel, nonetheless, since both Harry and Ron had declined the offer because they wanted to participate, you were only three: Madam Rosmerta, Hermione and yourself. And all the people you trusted also wanted to take part in it, so it seemed that you'd have to settle with only three judges. Unless...

"Hey, Draco!" Wait, since when did you address him by his first name? Oooh, this was getting out of control... You shouldn't have said anything!

"What is it?" he asked from the seat he had taken at some nearby table, just like all the other students who wouldn't take part in the contest, and were happy to simply watch, had done.

"Well, I was wondering..." you began doubtfully, "if you would like to be a judge too?"

"Me? A judge?" He frowned. "Why?"

"Because I wanted there to be four, but I've got one missing. And I think you'd make a fair judge, as long as you keep your good mood and you're not rude to our contestants... So?" you said bitting your lip.

"Erm, all right. Can't promise I won't be tough on them, though" there was that smirk again.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully," You can be tough, just not rude. There's a difference."

And so the contest began.

An hour flew by and sooner than you'd expected, you found yourself deliberating with your three judges on whose costume was the best. A task which was pretty hard to do. Harder than you'd expected, actually.

At the moment, you had managed to leave only three finalists, each one provided by one of your fellow judges, and you were the one with the final word. The problem was that you couldn't make up your mind.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione insisted, "Harry's costume should win! It's creative and original and very thorough!"

"Granger, you're only saying that because he's your friend," intervened Draco," but come on! That kid with the Dementor costume? He is literally floating! And he's like in second grade or so! I really think he's the one who should win."

"Well, he definitely portrays a dementor better than you did in third year..." the girl countered.

"All right, guys, don't fight, we gotta make a decision quickly and you're getting on my nerves. Yes, both of you..."

"I still say that those Weasley twins are a lot of fun... They should win if you ask me," Madam Rosmerta mentioned, already losing interest in the matter; looking at three teenagers argue over a costume contest wasn't exactly her definition of "fun".

"Yeah, but they're costume is not as complex as Harry's, (Y/N)!" Hermione reiterated.

"But Potter is not floating, now, is he?" Draco retorted.

"Merlin's beard, you guys! Will you both please shut up?" you scolded, "If I'm completely honest, I wouldn't even consider any of them as my first option, I would choose Padma Patil!" you paused for a second thinking what to say next to state your point, "I mean, she dressed up as Celestina Warbeck! Are you joking? That's bloody brilliant if you ask me! And not only that but she brought Lavender, Parvati and that other girl whose name I don't remember at the moment as her Banshees! Come on! Creative, original... Besides, look at her dress! It looks pretty thorough to me! And yeah, she may not be floating," you added turning to Draco," but she's enchanted her necklace to play 'You stole my cauldron but you can't have my heart' to look like she's actually singing!"

There were a couple of seconds of silence, until Draco decided to break it.

"Then why on earth didn't you say that from the very beginning, (Y/L/N)?"

"Because you were so determined to say who you thought should win that I didn't want to cause more trouble with the decision!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it makes it a lot easier for me," said Madam Rosmerta, "that girl and her friends were my second option. I simply love Celestina Warbeck."

"She was my third option, so I guess I don't mind," Draco stated shrugging and then leaned back on his chair.

You looked at Hermione.

"Well, yeah... She wasn't in my top three, but it's fine for me", she didn't sound entirely convinced, but it was enough.

"Okay, then..." you said finally, a little surprised by the result, yet satisfied," Brilliant! Then we've got our winner!"

The four of you stood up; Hermione, Draco and you walked to the center of the improvised runway while Madam Rosmerta simply returned to the back of the bar, clearly not wanting to take part in the decision-making of some fifteen-year-olds anymore.

"So, before we announce our winner, I wanted to say something," you began, "As you can see, it was quite difficult for us to make a decision, because all of your costumes are amazing. I truly think so! You're so creative and fun, and believe me when I say that if I had a larger budget I'd probably give prizes to all of you," you chuckled softly, " unfortunately, it isn't the case, so we had to choose only one... Are you ready to know who won?"

The multitude shouted a very enthusiastic "Yes" as response.

"All right, then... Padma Patil, congratulations, you and your Banshees are the winners!"

There were cheers, applause and a few disappointed sighs, but everybody seemed to be as satisfied with the decision as you. You gave the four girls their prize and the music started playing once more. However, the party was coming to its end and a lot of people were already saying their goodbyes and leaving. Therefore, before anything else could happen, you grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him all the way to where Colin Creevy was taking a few pictures of some third year students.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gonna take some pictures," you stated, "I've already got a few with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but since you arrived late..."

He didn't even get the chance to protest, because in that moment the third year students left and you dragged him once more to the spot where they'd been posing.

"What the... What am I supposed to do?" he inquired with a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Dunno, just think of cool poses! We've got two shots, so think fast!"

Your first shot was of you two in an average pose, you know, just smiling, you leaning on his shoulder, his arm around your waist and the butterflies in your stomach going a bit crazier about it.

"What now?!"

"I don't know! It's not like I'm used to doing this!" he exclaimed.

"I thought you were Draco bloody Malfoy, aren't you known enough to get a lot of pictures? You should be used to it!"

"I don't get a lot of fun pictures with weird poses!"

"Well, think of something then!" Colin could do nothing but stare in amusement at your absurd argument, trying to suppress his laughter.

"You think of something!" Draco countered.

"Why am I the one who always has to think of everything? Use your brain, mister!"

And you'd barely finished your sentence when, without a warning and almost against any common sense left on both of you, Draco's lips crushed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your face eagerly. Only an instant later he pulled away and looked at you, with his usually pale cheeks coloured in a bright shade of pink and his moon-like eyes reflecting the panic of maybe having done something very wrong. However, he quickly intended to hide it:

"Was that a proper use of my brain, miss?

You were flabbergasted. Totally. The whole night had been utter madness for you since this boy arrived... But it wasn't a bad type of madness, you were delighted. You fancied him. And now you knew that it was mutual.

"Well... Sure... but why did you stop?" you murmured, just inches away from his face, and then smiled bitting your lip. You saw his whole face lighten up as he smiled broadly, just before leaning in to kiss you once more, this time more passionately and intensely than before. You could feel the cold touch of his family ring against the soft skin of your cheeks, contrasting with the warmth of his palms.

The camera flashed and that single incredible moment was captured forever in a picture that would last for a long, long time, kept in scrapbooks and family photo albums.

"Oh, crap..." you grumbled after you pulled away the second time.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse due to the kiss.

"Now I'm going to have to do Ronald's homework for a week!"

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years

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a fine line, part three

a/n: okay. here we go. part three bitches. tbh i write these author’s notes before i start writing, which is why i also have one at the end of the chapter-- so idrk how many more parts this baby’s gonna have. also, tumblr fucked up and ate my first draft, so fuck you tumblr. but here we go! enjoy, again, thank you for reading/sharing/commenting/reblogging whatever etc etc. i love you all! <3 -ali

wc: 2.5k

You truly think that you’re going to throw up.

You haven’t moved out of your apartment since you came back from James’ apartment.

Your phone has been non-stop vibrating since you got off your phone call with Natasha, and she’s the only one you’ve kept updated on the situation. You told her she could... vaguely explain to Wanda and Carol what happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your apartment.

You were a mess, to say the least.

Natasha had tried to come by to see if you were alright, but you couldn’t let her in. You were embarrassed. James kissed you, and he made you look like a fool. He thought he could make things better by kissing you, but every time you remembered what his lips felt like on yours, all you could feel was humiliation.

Did he think you were that easy? That if he kissed you and slept with you, that it would erase your past with him?

You didn’t know what to think, and it was eating you alive.

You usually knew. You knew how to think rationally, to think things through, and to make the right decision.

But now, you felt like you knew nothing.

And now, you have to show up to class next week and teach alongside the man who made you look like a joke.

On the other hand, James was quite literally losing his shit.

He felt like an idiot.

After he kissed you, he realized two things.

One, he was idiot.

And two, he liked you. A lot.

Well, it was more or less Steve that led him to both conclusions, but hey, he got there.

When he called Steve after you quite literally fled his apartment, he realized just how fucking stupid what he did was.

“Buck, you gotta see this from her perspective. For a year, you ridiculed her every chance you got, and all of a sudden you spring all this shit on her that you didn’t mean it, etcetera etcetera. And then you kiss her. She’s quiet, shy. I don’t talk to her about personal things much, but Nat knows. She trusts her, and she tells her about everything she’s been through. A week ago, she thought you hated her. You just humiliated her and made it look like she was easy, someone you could kiss and fuck and move past your history with her.” Steve spoke through the phone to his friend.

After listening to everything that Bucky said, Steve couldn’t understand just how stupid his friend was.

“I- I never meant for it to be like that. I do like her, a lot. And I feel like such an idiot for what I did before. She- After watching her sit in my house, after seeing her with Alpine, I just... I realized just how fucking wrong I was... And now she’s never gonna talk to me again.” Bucky realizes, and it hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Okay, you’re being dramatic, Buck. You guys still have to teach together next week. You just need to find a way to straighten things out with her by then, or else someone’s gonna report back to Fury that you two aren’t doing what you’re supposed to. And we all know that you don’t wanna be in trouble with him.” Steve continues to explain.

‘You’re right... But how do I even reach out to her? She’s not gonna answer a text or phone call, but I don’t think she would appreciate me just showing up where she lives... And I don’t even know where she lives.” He tells him, trying to think of any way to reach you.

“Well... I don’t how much I can help you from here. Just... be careful, Buck. Don’t end up doing more harm than good. Okay?” Steve carefully warns him.

“Yeah, I know, Steve.” Bucky tells him. “I gotta go, I’ll talk later man.” He concludes, promptly ending the call.

It’s Saturday, and Bucky’s panicking.

Why, you may ask?

Well, other than the fact that he made a dumpster fire out of his relationship with you, he singlehandedly made all of your friends who were staff at Avengers University hate him.

He’s spent the morning calling Natasha, who promptly picked up and hung up right after. Then Wanda, who didn’t even bother answering. Finally, Carol. Carol didn’t really give away much, but she did want to help.

Carol didn’t tell him which apartment you lived in.

But she did tell him what building you lived in.

“And why should I help you, Barnes?” Carol asked, well on her way to her meeting.

Bucky was running to catch up with her, clearly walking faster to avoid him.

“I- Listen, just, give me something. Natasha and Wanda ‘ve been avoiding me, and I know they’re not gonna help. I-I’m desperate.” Bucky practically begs, and Carol can’t say she’s not shocked.

“Well... how far are you willing to go?” She stops her walking and asks.

“I-I’ll do anything. Please, Danvers. I’ll buy you coffee for a week. Y-You can have my parking spot! Anything!” Bucky was ready to get on his knees if he needed to.

And that’s exactly what Carol wanted to see.

“Hmm... I don’t know... How do I know you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done?” She questions, nose in the air.

“Carol, I know I fucked up, alright? Steve and Sam can barely even look at me, Natasha and Wanda are ready to rip my head off on sight, and plus...” he paused, trying to lift the weight off his chest, “...plus, Y/N means a lot to me. And I know I acted like a goddamn idiot before, but it’s different now. I... I like her, a lot, and I never meant to hurt her. I... I need her to understand that.” Bucky was out of breath from his rant, and Carol squinted her eyes at him.

“I’m giving you one thing. You have to figure it out from there. Or else Y/N, Nat and Wanda would kill me.” The blonde says after a moment of silence. “She lives in the Livingston Towers. That’s all you get. I’m late to my meeting, bye.” She says, flipping her hair while strutting away.

Now, it’s Saturday morning and Bucky’s at the lobby of your building. Although it’s definitely not half as lavish as his own, it was still lovely. Warm, cozy. The man sitting at the desk watches him as he approaches his small desk, and Bucky looks pale as a ghost.

“H-Hi, I’m looking for someone who lives here?” He asks more than he says, making the man even more weary of him.

“Does this person know you’re coming to see them?” The young man asks dismissively.

“No, but uh, I was hoping I could see them anyways? I just need to know what apartment they’re in if you don’t mind-” Bucky speaks but is cut off short by the young man with the name tag that reads “Adam.”

“Listen, man, you’re not the first shmuck to show up here, begging me to let them up to see their ex that they ‘need to make it up to.’ If she’s not answering her phone when you call, maybe that’s a sign you need to let that shit go, dude.” Adam tells him, looking at his phone screen.

“Hey, kid, listen. She’s not my girlfriend, but I do need to make it up to her. I fucked up, but we’re colleagues, and we have a project that we’re supposed to work on starting tomorrow, but I don’t think she’s gonna show. I-I just... I need to see her. Please.” Bucky’s about to get on the ground, but instead another idea pops into his head.

Just as Adam’s about to dismiss him again, Bucky pulls out his wallet.

He pulls out a crisp $20 bill, slipping is across the counter.

“Please?” Bucky’s voice is hanging on by a thread.

“Fine, man, this girl better be worth it, I could lose my job-”

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky says, waiting for the boy to type in the name.

“She’s in 10C. Good luck, bro.” He says, sitting back lazily in his spinning chair.

“Thanks,” Bucky can barely say before he clicks the button to call the elevator, hopping in and pressing on the 10 button.

He finds your place with quick ease, but he stands there for a few seconds, pondering. If he knocks, will you even answer? If you know that it’s him, will you open the door? What if you’re out, what if you went to grab coffee or something for Lucy? What if-

And before he could think even further, the door swings wide open, shocking Bucky.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your voice was hoarse, like you hadn’t used it in days.

You looked... horrible, to say the least. But James was glad he was even looking at you right now.

“I-I we need to talk. Please.” He says, hoping you’ll hear him out.” Just give me five minutes. I’ll leave after that.” He pleads.

Wordlessly, you walk away from the door, leaving him just standing in your doorframe. He assumes this means you’re agreeing to the five minutes.

“Well?” You say, sitting back down on your couch, waiting for James to plead his case.

“L-Listen. I... I can’t even begin to explain to you how fucking sorry I am. I’m a complete idiot for thinking that kissing you was going to fix everything between us, for making you feel like I was trying to embarrass you by kissing you. I just- in the moment I thought it could’ve been the right thing to do, but after it happened I realized just how dumb I was to think that. And you have every right to be upset with me. Also... we still have to do our lessons together starting tomorrow, and I just wanted to know that we could still work together.”

You sat in silence, petting Lucy who was curled up into your side. You held a mug of coffee in your hand, watching James intently.

“Also, how did you know I was here?” He asks, brows furrowed.

You snort at the question, shifting in place.

“Adam called me to warn me that a very persistent man was coming up, and that if I needed to escape to go out the fire escape or the storage closet and hide.” You say, giving no indication as to how you were feeling.

“He may be easily swayed, but he’s not a complete idiot. But you... you are a complete idiot.” You tell him.

Bucky’s chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, in a way that makes him want to throw up his breakfast.

“Did you just come here to see if I was still going to work with you?” You ask, waiting to see what he’ll say.

“Well, that wasn’t the whole reason. I needed to know that you were alright. I hurt you, and I understand that. I also don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I know I fucked up. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it right away. And I’m even more sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough this past year. I guess...

I guess it was just my way, albeit childish, of coping with my feelings for you. When I first met you, I thought you were so beautiful, and I wanted to get to know you. But you were so quiet, and I just thought that was you rejecting me... So, I’m sorry. For everything Y/N.” James concludes. He stands up, moving towards your front door.

“James, wait.” Your meek voice rumbled out as you stood up.

“You... you did embarrass me. Borderline humiliated. You shouldn’t have acted that way with me, I’m worth more than that kind of behavior. That being said, I appreciate you coming here to try and work things through. I... I was so hurt. You hurt me so bad, James.” He opens his mouth to apologize yet again, but you shake your head, continuing.

“I liked you too. When I first met you, I thought you were so attractive. Intelligent, handsome, friendly. But then you started acting so... so different around me. I- I didn’t know what I’d done to make you so angry with me, enough to tear me down every chance you got. I was new, lost, fresh meat. But when you started saying those things, I was reconsidering my contract with AU. I appreciate the apology, but I’m going to need some time to process... whatever this is. Of course I’ll still do the lessons, but that doesn’t mean we’re buddy-buddy now, okay?” You finish.

He’s looking at you. It’s like there’s something more you want to say.

“I just... I- how do I know you’re for real? With all this, I mean. How do I know you’re really sorry?” You ask, finally letting it out, your voice crackling.

“Y/N... How about this; this week, while we teach together, let me make it up to you. Let me show you just how sorry I am, that I’ve really changed. Please, let me make it up to you.” Now, he’s literally on his knees in front of you.

Lo and behold, James Barnes. In front of you, on his knees. On the floor of your apartment.

“James, get up, please.” He promptly stands back up. “You have one week. One week to show me you’ve really changed, that you really mean what you’ve just told me. That’s all you get.” You tell him, staring at him.

“Okay. One week. I’m not gonna let you down, Y/N. I promise. You’re gonna see how sorry I am, I swear.” James says, slowly making his way out.

“Okay. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Barnes.” You say, holding the door, ready to shut it.

“Here I was, thinking we were on a first name basis.” He jokes, already outside.

“Watch it, Barnes.” You put extra emphasis on his last name, shutting the door as he steps into the elevator.

As you turn back into your house, you look at Lucy, who’s watching you with big eyes.

“What the hell is he gonna do, Luce?” You ask, plopping back down onto your couch and mindlessly turning on the TV again.

You couldn’t even pay attention to it, just thinking of what this week will bring.

a/n: ooookaayyyy hey yall! end of chapter check!! sorry this one was short, this week has been literally kicking my ass. i had 6 labs due for my anatomy class today. anywayssss.... what do we think bucky’s gonna conjure up for this week? lmk in the comments what you think !!! kk, love you, bye!

#bucky barnes fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #college professor au #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #prof!bucky #a fine line

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wordsinwinters · 3 years

Text

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.

Okay.

Alright.

No distractions.

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?”

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second.

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?”

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.

Flash nodded.

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #marvel imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #peter parker #tom holland

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

Text

Insufferable

Chapter two - A king’s duty is a king’s duty

Sander’s sides fanfiction - ‘Off the Devil’s head’ spin-off (can be read as a stand-alone)

Wordcount: 1928

Ship: intrulogical

TW: cursing - a lot of cursing (still Remus, lovlies, get used to it), confusion, cute bickering (I think...?), forests at night, very obvious autistic tics (based on my own, so I know they are real and how they work, in case you’re not sure ^^ I wouldn’t write something that I haven’t checked at least twice with someone who has, or deals with or is deeply interested in this stuff). And I think that’s all. If anything pops up, do let me know :) <3

Summary of the whole story: This might have not been the brightest idea - steeling from a cart right in the fucking smack-dab-middle of the Square. But Remus never claimed his ideas were bright. Never said his words and actions were appropriate either. So how in all off goddamned hell did he find himself sprawled out on a giant comfortable throne instead of a cold and dark (and very drippy) prison cell - with guards actually guarding his safety instead of assuring his imprisonment - is completely beyond him.

Link to AO3 for those who prefer reading there ^^

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

Chapter two - A king’s duty is a king’s duty

There’s not a lot of things Logan dislikes. There’s a total of fifteen so far. But disruption of order, change and tall grass is definitely in the top ten. And wouldn’t you look at that?

Green-haired hurricanes are tearing threw his peaceful kingdom, disrupting peace - thus creating an unnecessary change. Which caused his sleepless state, which lead him down a path where he has to hop from foot to foot like a dear, to eliminate any unnecessary contact with grass.

And the fact that all these things alone cause unnecessary stress, let alone combined, just makes it all worse. His movements are more jagged then usual, more frantic. Gestures all over the place in unorganized manors. And his eyebrows are stuck in a constant ‘thinking scowl’ as his advisors call it.

To any other person, his behavior would seem truly strange - Logan can’t say he doesn’t feel a little embarrassed by it, even now that he’s alone. But there are some things that just can’t be helped.

Besides, all of his kingdom know that their king is a ‘little weird’.

Since Logan first sat on the throne - at the mere age of thirteen - everybody’s been in love with their ruler. It sounds a little odd, that they let a thirteen-year-old kid on the throne, but Logan’s never really been a kid. Since when he can remember he read books far too difficult for the usual kid his age, listened in on conversations he probably had no business listening to, let alone understanding. Sat by his father’s side, while he made life-concerning decisions. Watched his mother as she took care of every problem with caution and care not everybody could offer. Although Logan never got around to fully understanding that care, he learned to act the same way. Same words, same gestures. Nobody was worried when the crown got passed down to him. All the people in the kingdom knew they were in good hands.

Logan’s very first mission was learning the name of every single person in town. It wasn’t an easy task, but it wasn’t as hard as someone would expect, since a surprisingly big amount of people shared the same name. And Logan had a really good memory when it came to association. A face to a name. A shape to a math formula. The smell, color, density and overall look to a chemical. And of course, the exact numeric measurement of a star’s whereabouts.

But there was no way of ‘associating’ his way out of this. He had no clue of the density, the weight, the pace, the name, nor the whereabouts of this mysterious disrupter of peace. All he knew was, that his hair was unnaturally green and he looked way too skinny for a wealthy towns-man - which just underlined the reason why he was steeling.

Oh, and let’s not forget he wanted to kiss Logan. Right there on the Square, apparently.

The young king scratched his arm, absentmindedly, trying not to think too much about it. Not that that’s helping. Questions keep popping up, tripping up his sane thought process.

It’s not like Logan liked the idea of the stranger kissing him. He didn’t like to be touched, let alone landing his lips to someone else. But the thoughts didn’t leave him alone.

Maybe that’s why he was here, stepping over unnecessarily high strands of grass in the middle of the night. He might not like the greenery touching him, and the jutting out branches and leaves of trees and bushes cause him immense panic (and make him scratch his exposed body parts like crazy), but he actually likes the forest. It is really calming (for the most part, anyways).

He hoped that this almost-calming surrounding would help him clear his head. But it just seemed to stress him out even more.

The thoughts kept on swiveling in his head - swirling and twirling, not letting the unknown thief out of their claw-clad grasp.

Logan needed to find out the thief’s name. He knows everybody’s name. And if this thief stays close to town, he’s considered a citizen. He needs to learn his name.

Not far from the obsessing king, Remus was lounging out in the hammock he hung outside Matilde’s old run-down cottage. One leg swung over the edge, he swayed from side to side, twisting the silver ring on his slender finger.

Bored out of his mind.

There wasn’t many days, when Remus’s screwed-up brain didn’t come up with things to entertain him; but some days even that head needed some rest, it seemed. Apparently today was one of those days.

Not a single fun thought. Even the inner monologue he never seemed to be able to end, somehow bored him to death. The only thing peeking even the slightest of interest in him, was the constant image of those scarily-blue eyes the king-dude possessed.

Seriously. In all his life, he has never once seen such ocean-blue eyes. Dark and deep, holding many a secret. It made Remus desperate to know each and every single one.

But that was not happening. No matter how much the eyes mesmerized him. How much he couldn’t get them out of his head. (Agh, Jesus fucking Christ those eyes…) There was just no way he could go back to that town.

The king has let him go once (he chalked it up to his good looks, charm and smooth words) and the second time is as likely as Matilde coming back from wherever she fled to.

So here he was. Bored as all hell.

He sighed heavily, wondering what kingdom was next on his agenda tomorrow. When suddenly he heard a scrunch. Then another. And another. This was no squirrel. Remus sat up immediately, eyes darting along the dark forest.

It was so late. What the hell would anybody be doing up at this hour of the night?

He darted out of the hammock - almost falling face first when his foot got caught in the fabric - hiding in the near-by bushes. Thank the lords that he didn’t forget to turn the fucking lights off again.

The scrunching got louder by the second, and Remus crouched lower.

Low muttering drafted into his ears. “…nice of you good sir, but I’ll have to decline. I am not sure that would be appropriate considering we just met…” A dark figure, drafted in shadow came into view. “And besides, you haven’t even introduced yourself. I know the name of every citizen in this kingdom. For the sake of consistency, I would also like to find out yours…” Jesus Christ, who were they talking to? And what were they doing?!

One leg up in the air, like soldiers marching, then quickly stamped down, hopping to the other. Weird movements all over the place, not even in a straight line, like a sane person. Was this person drunk? They looked like a fucking goat, jumping from one small jutting out pebble on the mountain-side to the other.

The site alone would make Remus want to piss himself, but together with the inconsistent murmuring? He couldn’t hold back the snort.

The figure immediately froze in place. All movement and words falling into still silence. “Who’s there?” They called out cautiously.

Remus bit his tugging lip hard. Fuck.

Well, there was no backtracking now. Besides, it’s not like he was scared. It was more likely he’d scare the crazy-pants over there. So slowly, he razed from his hiding spot with hands in the air and a huge grin on his face. “What are you doing dude? You look like a fucking crazy person.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” came the person’s answer. Voice laced with nerves.

“Just a random dude in a forest.” Rem shrugged.

“That’s not a very satisfying answer.”

Roman bit back a laugh. Seriously, what the hell? “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you.” he snickered. Then this thought blinked into his head, and as you know, thought’s bring words. Stupid, embarrassing and unnecessary words. “Unless you want me to.” he winked seductively. Then realized the person probably couldn’t even see his face, let alone the wink he just threw at them. Ah well, at least it saved him some embarrassment, when his tongue betrayed him.

Swear to god, the person ‘Eep’-ed at this. He made this strangled sound that sounded like a nervous whine mixed with surprise cut in half and that just made Remus want to laugh even more. “That’s really unnecessary, thank you.” And they’re still being polite! How even…?

Rem couldn’t help it at this point. It was too much. He burst out cackling like to crazy idiot he is. Probably scaring the poor person to death. (But then again, the ‘poor person’ did come wondering into a forest in the middle of the night, muttering to themselves and jumping around like an idiot.)

“Am… You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh that’s right…“ Rem’s forhead creased in thought. “…what was the question again?”

“Who are you.”

“I’m Remus.”

If Logan could allow himself to curse, he would. But he couldn’t so instead he just gave a long exasperate sigh. “And who might that be?”

The stranger stepped closer, allowing the fleeting moon-light to reach his features and gave a big bow. Hand gesture and all. “Me, obviously.” No matter how much he disliked to admit it, Remus was every bit as dramatic as his brother. If not more…

The king’s eyes lit up with recognition (not that Rem could see). Well, guess his duty’s done then - the thief’s name is Remus. Huh…Very interesting.

“Well, now that you know my name, it’d be nice to get yours, pretty.” Rem grinned, daring to get a few more steps in. Bringing him closer to the still standing-frozen person.

From here he could finally see more of them. Well, him. Because apparently the smooth deep voice he was conversing with was the royal-head himself.

And his royal head slanted to the left slightly, eyebrows drawing together. “Why should I give my name to unknown man in the forest?”

“Why should I give my name to some random bloke, then?”

“Because I asked you to?”

Remus wondered what this dude’s problem was. Logan wondered why even wanted to get out of the safety of his chamber in the first place.

“Alright then, weirdo, tell me one good reason why I should answer and you shouldn’t.” Rem crossed his arms over his chest. Yes, he was aware he was talking to the king. But that doesn’t mean he had to play nice.

Rem treats everybody the same way, because that’s how it should be. (Maybe that’s what landed his ass behind bars twice already…)

Logan jutted out his chin. He could use the ‘King-card’ - as his advisor calls it. Could easily force the thief to answer without any objections (that is if he abbeys rules; which he should.) But honestly, Logan felt like doing neither. It was late, and he was supposed to stop obsessing about this whole thing. Which he did. The thief’s name was Remus.

So, as gracefully as a king can, he shrugged. “I don’t have one.”

“Well, shit. Then you ain’t getting my name, darling.”

The royal couldn’t decide whether the thief was that simple-minded or just easily distracted. “You’ve already said your name.”

Our beloved idiot’s expression froze, grin falling. “Ah, fuck.” his shoulders did the same. (In a very overdramatic - and admittedly, impressively flexible - way)

Well, if he wasn’t screwed before, now he certainly was.

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

Jesus Christ, I’ve never cursed more in my life and I hate it so much! I don’t curse in real life, not even while texting with friends (I use shit, hell and damn, but that’s about it) and this is killing me on a whole other level! But this is Remus, and I feel like a good Remus requires a hella lot of curses.

So here we are. Me actually cursing more then my brain can accept it. But at least I get to project on Logan, right? I love autistic Logan, too damn much. He’s too precious. And the greenery thing? Believe me, my mum constantly makes fun of it XD But I don’t mind, I know I look ridiculous.

Anyways! I hope you liked this chap! ^^ I still have no idea where the hell I’m going with this, but I guess we’ll see where we end up.

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