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#I actually really like this setup-- where I quietly work on lots of things for months
monstermonger · 5 months
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I recently bought an art book on Caspar David Friedrich, whose emotional work stuck with me since I first saw it in a museum years ago. Over the course of a few weeks, I read about his life and at the same time did studies/interpretations of many pieces. It was a really enjoyable and fulfilling project; here's a good lot of them together :)
I was happy to see many people enjoyed Friedrich's work+my interpretations while posting them individually. It took way too long, but I FINALLY set up a print shop for some of these + some other pieces for those who expressed interest. Thank you so much!
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vilentia · 4 months
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An Unforeseen Reunion
Eddie Munson x reader
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)
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Summary: an unexpected visit leads to a joyful and emotional reunion, rekindling old connections and creating new memories.
This is part 2 of what was originally planned as a one-part story.
****
Two years had slipped by since Eddie Munson left Hawkins and you behind. Those years were filled with growth, change, and a persistent longing that neither time nor distance could diminish. Now, standing nervously outside Eddie's apartment in California, your heart was a flurry of excitement and apprehension.
The journey to see him had been a whirlwind of emotions. Every mile traveled intensified the anticipation of seeing Eddie's face, hearing his voice not through a phone but in person. The memories of your last day together in Hawkins were vivid in your mind as you raised your hand to knock on the door.
As the door opened, revealing Eddie, time seemed to stop. He was slightly different—hair trimmed, a new maturity in his eyes—but unmistakably the Eddie you remembered.
Eddie froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Is this actually happening?" he uttered in astonishment.
"It's really me, Eddie," you said, your voice thick with emotion.
In a heartbeat, he enveloped you in a hug, lifting you slightly off the ground. The hug was tight, filled with years of missed moments and unspoken words. "I can't believe you're here," he said, his voice muffled by your hair.
"I've missed you so much, Eddie. More than I could put into words," you confessed, holding him tightly.
He gently set you down but kept his arms around you. "I missed you every single day. I can't... I just can't believe you're actually here."
You looked up into his eyes, those familiar pools of warmth and understanding. "I wanted to see you, to be with you, even if it's only for a short time."
Eddie's hands gently framed your face. "You being here is the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. How long are you staying?"
"As long as we need to catch up," you replied, a hopeful smile on your lips.
Eddie's laugh was like music to your ears. "Then let's not waste a single moment."
You stepped into his apartment, a space that felt instantly welcoming, a reflection of Eddie himself. It was filled with little bits of his life—posters of bands, a guitar in the corner, and a small, makeshift recording setup.
As Eddie gave you a tour, his voice was animated, filled with enthusiasm. "This is where the magic happens," he joked, gesturing to his guitar. "I've been working on some new stuff. I wish you could have been here to hear it as it came together."
"I would have loved that," you said, imagining the nights you could have spent listening to him play, sharing your thoughts, and just being together.
Settling on the couch, you both shared stories of the past two years. Eddie talked about his journey in California, the struggles and small triumphs of trying to make it in the music scene.
"What about you? How's life been treating you back in Hawkins?" Eddie asked, his gaze fixed on you.
"It's been okay, you know. Hawkins will always be home, but there's always been something missing since you left," you admitted, feeling a surge of honesty.
Eddie reached out, taking your hand. "I felt the same way. There were so many times I wanted to just come back. But I knew I had to try and make it here, for my music, for myself."
"I always knew you would make it. You're the most talented person I know," you said, pride evident in your voice.
He smiled, a little bashfully. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. You've always been my biggest supporter."
You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with a deep, unspoken understanding. As the evening deepened into night, Eddie's expression grew more serious.
"I used to imagine this all the time, you know," he said quietly. "You, here, with me. It seemed like a dream I didn't allow myself to have."
"I guess dreams do come true sometimes," you whispered, feeling a sense of contentment enveloping you.
Eddie nodded. "I've learned that dreams are nothing without someone to share them with. You being here makes everything feel complete."
You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Let's make the most of our time together, Eddie. Let's make new memories, just like old times."
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I'd like that. New memories with you are the best kind."
In that moment, the past and the future seemed to converge, creating a perfect present. You were together again, and though the future was uncertain, the now was all that mattered. You were with Eddie, and that was enough. It was more than enough.
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whumping-valentine · 4 months
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🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 3 🦌
"Restless Nights"
Content: Paranoid whumpee, fear of being SAed, uhhh idk this is mostly setup for the next chapter which will be much more whumpy.
1,100 words
(Not) continuing on with my part-a-day challenge (to the fullest) but I'll try to get a part out on the regular! Congrats, you now know what I'm like as a content creator! Rule of thumb, if I ever say "I'll try to—" or "I will be—" you can count on me to never deliver!
However, in my own defense, I've been working my job a shit ton recently, and am also working on a 12 book series, and also working on the series for Valentine that I'll be posting here, and drawing a lot, so I'm pretty busy, lol. But as always, excuse my writing quality for this mini series, I just shit these out into Google Docs and then copy and paste them here.
With that said, I humbly bring you all part 3! The next part is where the whump is really gonna start coming through, so stay tuned for that (and the eventual off-the-rails plot I thought of at 3 am while trying to sleep)
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       Fawn was in a state of shock, and they knew it, too. They didn’t feel very much besides the anxiety that coursed through their veins. They should be frightened, and feel disgusted. They should be crying, and panicking, and trying to find a way out. Yet all they could do was sit up right on the old dirty mattress, hugging their knees to their chest as they stared into the pitch black darkness of Hunter’s basement.
       Eventually they fell back against the mattress, hands over their chest as their heart beat wildly, yet they felt nothing. Not even tired. Sleep was nowhere near on their mind. All they could think about was their own stupidity. How they managed to walk right into a psychopath’s literal trap. Thoughts of the future wavered through their mind, and none of the scenarios were favorable.
       Were they going to be killed? No, Hunter alluded to it, but said they were too pretty, whatever the hell that means. Was that really the only thing keeping them alive? What if they accidentally piss them off? What if they grow bored of them? But… What do they even want with them in the first place? Something nice to look at? A pretty pet? Where they going to be raped? They didn’t even want to consider the thought.
       Fawn couldn’t hear a single sound other than the sound of their own breathing and heartbeat. They couldn't even see their own hands in front of them. There were no windows, no connections to the outside world. It was sensory deprived hell, and as the minutes ticked away they felt like they were going insane.
       They couldn’t take it anymore, and sat up, slowly getting up to stand on their one good foot. They wobbled and felt weak, but once they got their footing they slowly hopped to where they saw the light string. Reaching out blindly in the darkness, they felt it in their hands, and pulled it. A click rang through the air, and the basement was illuminated, albeit dimly, but they could at least see.
       The basement was full of all kinds of clutter, like tools, weapons, boxes, taxidermied animals, bones, fur rugs, and mounted animal heads. There were a bunch of spiders, cobwebs, and cockroaches scurrying around. Good thing they weren't afraid of bugs. At least they had some company.
       The mattress was torn and covered in blood and dirt. Lots of dried blood, actually. How many others were here before them? How many others spent their last nights on this same, tattered bed? It all felt too surreal. It couldn't be real. This was a horror movie, or a true crime documentary in the making, and they were the next subject. Why them of all people? Life isn't fair.
They began to carefully and quietly sift through the various things Hunter kept down there. Looking through the boxes, opening drawers, peeking behind furniture. Inside a metal cabinet were multiple folders and papers. The papers being....
       ...Missing posters?
First came confusion, then came the wide eyed terror and the sinking of their heart. In shock their shaking hands dropped the papers, and when they got their bearings, picked them back up, examining them.
       There were some from different places, but most of them came from the same nearby town that Fawn had just moved to. They could recall seeing some of them around town, or in newspaper ads. Even conversations with the locals about how people often go missing... The oldest one of the bunch was ten years ago. The most recent was only from 6 months ago.
       Fawn felt sick to their stomach. Asking how many people were here before them was supposed to just be rhetorical.
       Fawn grabbed a knife that was sitting on one of the tables, and turned out the lights. It was old and rusted, but just having a weapon in their hands at least gave them the illusion of safety. They clutched it tightly in both of their hands, sitting on the mattress. They were restless and anxious, with their wide eyes staring towards the door in darkness. They could hear the floorboards creak above them, and they hoped and prayed Hunter wouldn't come back down the stairs.
       Especially if they thought they were asleep.
       Though much like Fawn, Hunter wasn't able to rest their eyes, either. However, while Fawn's may have been from fear, Hunter was far too excited. They tossed and turned, but all they could think about was their latest victim. When they remembered they had a bag with them that they removed, they jumped out of bed immediately.
       Moonlight was shining through the trees, seeping into the decrepit cabin through cracked and boarded up windows. Hunter went to the kitchen and picked Fawn's bag up off of the floor, curious to rummage through their things.
       It was filled with snacks and water bottles. There was a change of clothes, a pocket knife, a book on plant identification, binoculars, and finally, they hit the jackpot. A phone with no passcode! Just who was their little Fawn, really?
       Their lockscreen was a photo of two cats cuddling, looking like they took it themself at a shelter. Much to Hunter's dismay, it didn't seem like they had any social medias, but they did have lots of things in their gallery!… though they were mostly just photos of animals. They couldn't find a real name or anything that was truly personal.
       It wouldn't matter much even if they did have socials, because there was no signal out here. It wouldn't connect to the internet. Maybe they had something in their calendar?... no, nothing. No birthdays or events, except for some things relating to the Animal shelter. 
       Their phone was so void of anything that it was almost frustrating. Either they didn't use technology much, or they had absolutely nothing going on in their life besides their volunteer work. I mean, they didn't even have a passcode, Hunter was disappointed, to say the least.
      A weak knock coming from the basement door startled them out of their dissatisfaction.
      "Uhh… Hunter?" A meek, muffled voice called.
      "What?"
       "I… have to pee."
      "Okay."
      "I need a bathroom."
       "No you don't. You have a change of clothes right here, you can change in the morning."
       "What?!" Fawn was appalled, "But—"
       "You should be happy you're alive and shut up. Piss on the floor and go to bed."
       "But—"
       "Piss on the floor and go to bed." Hunter repeated, much more stern. It was silent for a moment before quiet thumps could be heard limping down the stairs. Poor injured thing.
       Hunter had a feeling this recent capture was going to be quite an interesting one. They listen well enough, but don't seem to really grasp the situation they've found themself in. It wasn't a worry, that just meant training them was going to be all the more enjoyable.
       Hunter smiled.
       They were going to have fun tomorrow.
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secretgamergirl · 11 months
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When I said the “AI” projects grifters are pushing were search engines, THIS WAS NOT THE INTENDED TAKEAWAY.
I wrote a blog post a bit ago trying to explain what the things people are presently trying to call “AI” really are, and how the whole thing is a big ol’ grift you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole... and I don’t think anyone actually really read that, but since I’ve written it, there sure has been a sharp uptick in stories about people you’d really hope would know better treating them like Ask Jeeves and expecting to get accurate answers to random questions. So... let me try this again.
So first let’s just cover how a search engine actually works. Or at least a simplified version of my personal understanding which is probably a bit out of date so you know, grain of salt.
While we’re used to accessing the internet through handy little URLs like, say, https://www.tumblr.com, those are just sort of handy aliases managed by this whole database setup (domain name servers) which browsers are set up to check if there’s text in there, basically, and what those match them to is numerical addresses. It’s a bit like every website has a phone number. Just as an example, open another tab and just type in oh... 74.114.154.18 and watch it bring you somewhere. They expand things a bit now and then, but basically, much like when a video game has a safe with a 3 digit combination and you don’t feel like solving a puzzle, you can totally just sit there, punch in every possible number, and doing so you’ll eventually see every website there is. It’s only what like 1,000,000,000,000 possible combinations? People who are actually serious about running a search engine will just set up a script that does that, throwing some real processing power at it, locally save every thing that comes up, and also search all those files for every file they point at, links, images, databases, whatever, and save those locally to. A whole lot of computing and a whole lot of storage later, and you literally have a local mirror of the entire internet saved to a huge pile of hard drives. Really this is such a costly endeavor it’s honestly just a handful of people who really do it and everyone else just... quietly passes your searches on to them like some kinda middleman.
Anyway, once you have your local copy of the entire internet, and entirely too much processing power to hit it with, you can do things like... look at every individual page on the entire internet and count how many times every given word appears on them, and if you’re feeling real bold, phrases, getting nice little running tallies to jam into your huge database. Then when a request comes in to give you a web page about seagull poop, you just figure well, there’s this one page that says “seagull” 49 times, “poop” 37 times, and specifically says “seagull poop” 35 times. That seems pretty on-point so you search that up as result number one.
You’ll notice there’s no thinking anywhere in here, just saving files, counting words in them, and doing some data processing on those counts. There IS a bit more to everything of course, like giving extra relevance points if something is in a title or header tag, or how somewhere along the line we all agreed to add these meta tags where people can just say outright what sort of information is on a page on the honor system (extra relevance points if people actually click links too), and someone just deciding wikipedia articles are always good so if there’s a wikipedia article, that gets a ton of bonus relevance points. Having the search string in the URL of the site of course also helps, and somewhere along the line things got gummed up with people abusing the hell out meta tags and also just giving major search engines money in exchange for bonus relevance points. Then much more recently you’ve got software engineers and suckers trying and utterly failing to “improve” results by doing dumb things, like Street Fighter 6 is out, and there’s lots of people looking for info on that, so if someone types like, “Street Fighter 3rd Strike Remy move list” into a query, well, part of that string says “Street Fighter” so let’s give all the results people searching for just that are enjoying lately, and forget the other terms.
Anyway, that’s your standard search engine. People with these sorts of “AI” projects do not, in fact, generally have a local copy of the entire internet saved. Some would like to, but you need a LOT of storage, and also there’s quite a lot of laws and security measures specifically to prevent people from doing that, and even preventing the people we as a society generally agree should be mirroring the whole internet have to leave certain parts out. Now partly they get around that by just completely ignoring that those laws exist and banking on nobody actually enforcing them in any meaningful way. Largely though they want to either avoid blatantly breaking those laws/circumventing security, so they buy “training data” from whoever’s willing to sell it, and also taking measures to obfuscate that it’s all stolen.
Anyway, you know about Markov chains? The basic idea is you have a large body of text you’ve done some statistical analysis on like we have when we archive the whole internet or what chunks we can get our hands on, and we break down the percentages of how likely every word is to come after a given word we’re looking at. Doesn’t have to be words either, you can do it with whatever. But the basic idea is, let’s say your data set is a bunch of tedious nerd posts from the year Portal came out. Now if I start off giving you the word “The” there’s all sorts of things that could come next. “The end” “the next” “the only” or maybe “the cake.” This is totally how that predicted next word thing on your phone works by the way. Anyway to really do this properly you like map out the entire web of phrases you can end up with, but for now let’s just look at that pretty popular combo of “the cake” and keep looking that way, and huh, people sure do follow “cake” with “is” these days, and especially “the cake,” I can look this up in my database easy. So you just keep hitting that next suggested word on your phone, we’re probably getting “The cake is a lie!” out of it. Someone I know loves doing stupid little things with these if you want an example.
This is totally how these “AI” things do the natural speech things, plus maybe some hard rules like “when the prompt is a single word pre-prep the chain by putting “[whatever term] is” into a standard search engine routine and just wholesale life the first sentence you can find that starts with that at the top of a block of text, then Markov chain from there.”
And we want to obscure that we’re doing this so let’s also have a rule like “OK you can go with the best match for the best work so many times in a row, but after that you have to mix it up by taking the second best word. So again, still at the height of Portal fever, we start off seeing this common word sequence, but OK let’s switch it up after “the cake is” and not go with “a” what else do we have? Well, there’s no “the” at the start, but “cake is so delicious and moist” is also real common. That’s another long string of direct quotes though, so again, let’s flag it after so many top matches and use a slightly less common one. And you end up spitting out like, “The cake is so delicious and nutritious.” Hey, that sounds like natural language, AND it’s variations on commonly said things, so it’ll probably read as legit. We’re done here, ship it.
Of course cake ISN’T nutritious, it’s like, pure sugar and gluten. But we don’t have any capacity to think or understand we’re just stringing words together based on how commonly they follow each other. Because again, there is no actual intelligence, creativity, or understanding in here, just data sets and strict procedures on how to pop words from them.
One amusing thing about this is that basically by design, it’s practically guaranteed that this is going to spit out any block of text you can imagine at you, except for the ones that are completely true and coherent. It’s intentionally avoiding ever doing that because you’d spot the plagiarizing immediately.
Oh and the whole “AI generated art” scene is doing this exact same thing. Only difference is there’s an extra step where after they download literally every image ever posted on DeviantArt, they have sweatshops full of people where for like one shiny penny a day, destitiute people pour over things, hacking them up with lasso tools and painstakingly adding meta tags for every possible thing you could for every single image they have, so the program can pull up a bunch of images that all have all the search text and then go like “OK start with this as a base, this has the 20x10 pixel blue right eye tag, does anything else in the batch have that exame tag? Cool, let’s select one of those and paste it over this eye, now, how are we on 30x40 slightly reddish upturned nose tags?” etc. etc. etc. More impressive parlor trick to pull off, but it’s still prettty plainly theft.
Anyway, this is all a thing, as I think I said, because all the people left holding the bag when everyone realized crypto/NFTs/the metaverse/etc. was a gigantic pyramid scheme have absurd amounts of processing power in big warehouses and it’s all going faulty and looking bad from being under too much heat and running too long so it’s hard to sell on eBay, so, what other scam can we do with it? Aha, fake AI.
And all the people who continue to fall for that hook line and sinker should not have the jobs they do because that level of being a gigantic mark proves them unfit to do really anything that involves any sort of decision making, do what you can to have them removed.
Also maybe give me money? I’m at risk of death otherwise.
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dragonologist-phd · 1 month
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⭐️ for something you wrote this last weekend?
thank you! one of the things i worked on this weekend is the upcoming chapter for my Naia/Shadowheart fic, so i'll talk about that and let it double as my wip wednesday!
Director's Cut: Midnight Black and Paris Green
the upcoming chapter will be the one that finally gets Naia out of Act 1! all she has to do is kill Nere and she'll be all set. this part of the game actually lined up really well for Naia, because she finally leveled up to get some good necromancy spells right after meeting the myconids, so i get to work in my headcanon that she learned some magic from them- and i get to write her showing off her skills for the first time in the fight with Nere!
i haven't gotten to the fight quite yet, but i do have some fun setup down:
“May their gods guide their souls,” Naia murmurs, earning an odd look from Shadowheart. “And here I thought you didn’t hold with the gods.” “I don’t. But I still give them their dues, when needed.” Shadowheart’s eyes remain cool and acidic as she surveys the scene around her. “The dead are already lost. Were I you, I’d save your prayers for those who could use them.” “You truly feel nothing for them?” Gale asks in disbelief, and Shadowheart scoffs. “My feelings don’t matter to them one way or another. As I said-” “The dead are already lost,” Naia finishes quietly. She does not disagree; she can feel them decaying, and she knows it is beyond any of her powers to help them now. She also knows that their loss may, in some way, be twisted into an advantage for herself, and even now an idea is forming.
this is inspired by some similar dialogue in the game, where you net a bit of disapproval from Shadowheart if you stop and pray for the dead gnomes. i actually like this bit, because it highlights how despite the arc she's on Shadowheart does have an edge and can genuinely be callous at times. one of my favorite things about writing her is that she does have a lot of opposing characteristics- she has both a natural sense of compassion that she's been taught to ignore and a sense of sharp pragmatism that's been encouraged, and i like the balance of showing them both!
especially when writing her alongside Naia, as she mourns the dead while also planning to turn them into zombies that do her bidding- which is a scene i'm really looking forward to, as it's gonna be a chance for her to really show off, terrify some bystanders, and really emphasize the goth power couple thing she has going with Shadowheart lol
that's all i've got so far, but talking about this chapter is definitely motivating to finish it so thank you again!!
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talenlee · 1 year
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Decemberween 2022: Life SMP
New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Decemberween 2022: Life SMP
Do you like reality TV? No? Oh okay that makes sense. Not saying that none of you do, but on average, I can reasonably assume
What about wrestling? Yeah! Yeah okay, probably, statistically, you do.
What about Minecraft? Yeah, okay, statistically, you also probably do!
The Life SMP is a Minecraft SMP (“Survival Multiplayer”) set up as in Hardcore mode, where you have a limited number of lives. You can die a total of 3 times and then that’s it, you’re out of the game. A bunch of professional Minecrafters get thrown into this space, with rules for each iteration and what you get is kind of a really good single season narrative you can see from multiple perspectives.
The storytelling this presents is really interesting to me — you’re basically getting a mix of reality TV, where players need resources to actually do things to affect the world and make things happen (including violence), but there’s also an element of shared fiction where people are creating things that one another needs to react to. There are grudges (real and exaggerated), there’s kayfabe (real and exaggerated), and unlike other long-form Minecraft content where there’s a sort of timeless vision, the Life setup is very clearly here for a good time, not for a long time.
There are three seasons of Life and it works well that each season gets better than the next. It’s some really good bingeable content for the holiday period – just put the playlist on the TV and let it run because it’ll have that effect where plot points may zip past, but the next video will show you that plot point in a different angle.
Playlist: 3rd Life SMP - Chronological Order
Watch this playlist on YouTube
I think the first season, just called 3RD LIFE is the weakest, because all it has as a concept is each player has three lives totally; when you die you go from having a green life to a yellow life to a red life. Notably, red-life characters are hostile to everyone and can start PVPing other players. This holds out through the season – once someone goes red, they have the option to start fights and can pull the game into, y’know, a path of violence.
Last Life #1! - You Bet Your LIFE!
Watch this video on YouTube
Last Life adds two new wrinkles. One, players start with a random number of lives from 2 to 6, which they can use as currency. You can give lives to people, but you know, there’s an inherent danger in that. This series has a lot of really clutch moments about giving people lives to disrupt plans and alliances, but also…
The other big twist this has is The Boogeyman, which means at the start of each session there’s a chance you will be selected as The Boogeyman, which means you have to kill someone non-red, or you will have your lives set to red. This means that there’s now a paranoia to the whole experience, where players may be allied and building together but also quietly wondering if the other player is going to take a shot at them as the end of the session arrives.
Last Life is exciting and it’s also funny in a really deep way that the first series kind of wasn’t. It’s not that the first series lacked for comedy, but Last Life has a bunch of genuinely hilarious moments that are also tied into big-brain plays from people doing clever moves.
Double Life: New Chaos Begins! | Episode 1
Watch this video on YouTube
The third and (maybe, when I write this) final (for now) Life series is Double Life. The gimmick here is no boogeyman but instead, codifying something that happens naturally in the game: Players get linked with another player and both of them share a life and health pool.
This series is pleasantly weird too, where the characters frame their soulmate link in a lot of… ways. Like, it’s kind of Life but Mean Girls, where everyone is trying to come up with some deliberately fruitless way of manipulating other players when everyone has a guaranteed ally.
It’s also the shortest of the seasons – it goes six sessions and you can binge one player’s perspective remarkably quickly, if you want to.
I recommend this as some solid ‘folk in the house, kid-friendly’ content that can be compared to a sporting event.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
#Decemberween2022
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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years
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“Paper Scraps”
Post-Canon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort...ish?, Reconciliation, Discussion of Suicidal Ideation, Ghosts, Implied Sangyu, Mo Xuanyu Gets To Be Mourned, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang Are Going Through It
Series Link on Ao3
__________
"To what do I owe the surprise visit?'' Nie Huaisang asks, and his voice is so devoid of emotion that Wei Wuxian has to bite back a shudder, suddenly very much aware that he is treading in completely new and potentially dangerous territory.
Nie-xiong is as dead as his beloved elder brother, and the Headshaker was nothing more than a mask. All that's left now is Nie-zongzhu, whom he knows nothing about and threatened the last time they actually spoke to each other in person.
Still, he sucks up his nerve and plasters on one of his usual careless smiles. "We need to talk, you and I. Just you and I."
"Wei Ying-"
He holds up a hand to cut off Lan Zhan's protest. "How about it?"
"And what, exactly, do you think there is for us to discuss, Wei-xiansheng? Have I not been behaving well enough for your liking?"
Ouch.
"Okay, I deserved that," Wei Wuxian says as he waves off his defensive husband and friend a second time, suddenly wishing he'd just snuck out and come alone.
Then again, that probably wouldn't have gone well either, judging by the wary looks he keeps getting from the handful of Nie disciples who linger defensively near their sect leader.
Okay... okay. No more trying to joke around. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, then straightens his back. "I'm here about Mo Xuanyu."
Nie Huaisang’s face betrays nothing, but the fan in his hand snaps shut with enough force that it's audible throughout the room. “Everyone, please escort our other two guests to the main gardens so that we may speak privately.”
“Zongzhu-” one massive bear of a man starts to protest.
At the same time Lan Zhan moves in front of Wei Wuxian to growl “We are not going anywhere,” and the tension in the room ratchets sharply to hair-on-end levels as the situation threatens to turn into a standoff.
Wei Wuxian pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off a building headache, then reaches out in an attempt to tug his husband back. “Lan Zhan. I’m the one who requested a one-on-one meeting, remember? Literally just now?”
“He cannot be truste-”
“Wei-gongzi, he might-”
“Enough,” Nie Huaisang snaps, the unexpected whip-crack of his voice making them all, a few disciples included, jump. “Let me remind all three of you that you came here and none of you are required to stay. In fact, today would be much improved if you didn’t.”
“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian hisses.
Lan Zhan doesn’t budge, hand still tight on the hilt of Bichen. “If you harm Wei Ying-”
“Yes, yes, you and the Ghost General will cut me open and hang me with my own entrails just to start with,” Nie Huaisang replies irritably, giving a dismissive wave of the closed fan. “I’m well aware.”
Judging by the startled and utterly appalled looks that cross Lan Zhan and Wen Ning’s faces, that had decidedly not been on the list of options of what they might potentially do. But the descriptive suggestion does work to knock them off guard, and Wei Wuxian bites his tongue hard to keep his expression neutral as the two of them are herded out without any more fuss after Nie Huaisang makes a short gesture to his disciples. “You did that on purpose.”
Nie Huaisang turns without responding to the jibe at all and walks off towards another door.
Ouch again.
He trots after the other man and falls into step beside him as they enter a hallway that’s clearly not for public use. Part of him wants to ask where they’re going, if just to break the uncomfortable silence, but he keeps his mouth shut.
They finally stop at a door that, when Nie Huaisang slides it open, leads to a tiny garden so deep in the sect's keep that the back wall of it is cut into the mountain itself.
And in that little carved out cave, shielded from wind and rain and snow, sits a funeral tablet on a table shrine.
Wei Wuxian involuntarily sucks a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of it, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest. Guilt wells up hot and stinging and bitter in his stomach, then higher into his throat. Dizzy, he sways on his feet and is only vaguely aware of the hands that catch him.
Once his resurrection had been revealed, everyone simply accepted him as “Wei Wuxian”, not “Wei-Wuxian-In-Mo-Xuanyu’s-Body”, seemingly having just... forgotten that the face he has now once belonged to someone else. He had grown so settled into this body that until the dreams had begun, he had barely given Mo Xuanyu a second thought.
But right at this moment, staring at the name carved into that tablet, held up by the one person left who had remembered- had loved the original owner of this body enough to memorialize him, he has never felt more like an invader in it.
His vision, gone fuzzy from the sickening torrent of emotion, slowly begins to come back into focus and, for just a moment, he is staring through Mo Xuanyu’s eyes into the worried expression of Nie-xiong before the lingering memory clears to the more neutral face of Nie-zongzhu.
He is on the ground, his head in the man’s lap, and the sudden urge to cry hits him hard. “Do you hate me?” he asks without meaning to, voice coming out plaintive and half-strangled by his effort to hold back the tears.
“You were the one who decided there was nothing left between us worth salvaging.”
“I did. And it was stupid. But that’s not what I mean, and you know it. Do you hate me for having this face?”
There is a pause, then a quiet sigh. “No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. Or something else. Yu-er was…”
Nie Huaisang turns his head away, expression softening into a complicated mix sadness and pain, and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking that while ‘his’ Nie-xiong might be dead, Mo Xuanyu’s Nie-xiong might still exist somewhere deep under the protective layers of Nie-zongzhu.
He swallows hard, then makes himself sit up and looks again at the tablet and its small offerings.
“Determined,” he says quietly, finishing the sentence. A tiny wet laugh bubbles out of his throat. “I thought… I really did believe that you had forced him into it,” he continues, and in the edge of his vision, he sees Nie Huaisang flinch at the accusation. “But no. No. He... really was determined to see it out to the end.”
“How do you-”
“Ah.” He scratches his cheek, then scoots to face the other man. “That’s actually the reason I needed to talk to you. I’ve been seeing- fuck, dreaming his memories, I guess… though they were more like nightmares, considering what was in them-”
“Wait,” Nie Huaisang says, holding up a hand. “When did this start?”
“Mmh. Just a little over ten months ago, I think? Or maybe closer to eleven. The first one was of your visit right after his mother died.”
Nie Huaisang goes slightly pale at that, though whether it’s from the admission of the length of time or the contents of the memory, Wei Wuxian can’t tell.
He gets an answer when Nie Huaisang gets up and rushes to the table, returning with something carefully cradled in his hands.
It’s a spirit pouch.
His hands are shaking as he holds them out to accept the tiny burden, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s gaping like a fish. “Huaisang…” he chokes out when he finally manages to find his voice again, but that’s as far as he gets.
“I… have studied a lot of ways of finding and contacting the dead,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian nods along numbly because that makes a ridiculous amount of sense, given the circumstances. “I know what the ritual notes said, but seeing that there was still something left of Da-ge after everything that had been done to him…”
He reaches out and touches the pouch and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking of a gentle hand ruffling his (but not his) hair.
“I’m just sorry it took me two years to get up the nerve to go looking.”
But you went, Wei Wuxian thinks. You went.
He’d never even considered it. It had never crossed his mind at all.
“Eleven months ago, right?” he asks, voice still a little squeaky.
“Mm-hmm. I should have written to you about this long before now, but it seemed like every time I’d prepared myself to send the letter, something would happen that would remind me that… well.”
That we’re not friends anymore.
That you want nothing to do with me.
Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and rests his hands in his lap, still holding the pouch as if it’s made of porcelain instead of cloth. “I probably wouldn’t have read it,” he confesses quietly. “Or I would have, but I wouldn’t have believed you. I would have thought it was a ruse, a setup-” A tiny, wounded laugh escapes his mouth and he tilts his head back to stare up at the sky. “Maybe that’s why I started having the dreams. His way of telling me I’m an idiot.”
“A little drastic on his part if it was.”
“Can’t say it wasn’t necessary.” The pouch gives a jangling, discordant little hum when he pets it, the fracturing of the soul within vastly different from what he’d felt from Xiao Xingchen. The pieces feel smaller and fewer, yet heavier. “Oh,” he murmurs when he realizes why.
“Oh?”
“The array was designed to consume the resentment of the caster based on negative memories of the person or persons they wanted to curse. That’s why the memories of you and the flashes of his mother were so vivid when the rest of them weren’t. That’s why you were able to find these pieces. He really did see you two as the only bright spots in his life, so those memories were spared.”
Nie Huaisang makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, and when Wei Wuxian turns his head, the other man is looking away in a clear attempt to hide his expression. “He was wrong.”
“A year ago, I would have agreed,” Wei Wuxian mumbles. “After everything he showed me, though… I don’t think he was. I get it.”
He takes a deep breath. He has never talked about this, not with Lan Zhan, not with Wen Ning, and certainly not with Jiang Cheng, even if they are taking tentative baby steps towards being less awkward around each other. He’s not sure he should be talking about it with Nie Huaisang either, but-
“I know what it’s like, just wanting everything to end. Deciding the whole world can go to hell. Maybe I didn’t intend for the backlash from breaking the seal to kill me, but I sure didn’t fucking care what it would do to me one way or another. Nothing and nobody could have saved me by that point. You couldn’t have saved him even if you’d dragged him home with you like Lan Zhan wanted to do to me.”
“Wei Wuxian-”
He ignores the little flutter in his chest that they’ve at least moved back to an address that feels less precarious than the icy ‘Wei-xiansheng’. “Let me finish, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So... So... Ah, fuck,” he mutters, gently shifting the pouch so he can scratch the back of his neck, trying to catch the lost trail of thought. “You know… I never questioned the clothing I woke up in when I was resurrected. As brutal and nasty as the Mo family were and as disgusting as that little shack was, it should have come off as weird that I was wearing such nice robes.”
There is a quiet sniffle, and Wei Wuxian pretends not to see Nie Huaisang wipe wet eyes with the edge of a sleeve as he continues talking. “He appreciated those. Appreciated that you tried to take care of him.”
He raises the pouch to eye level, and it gives another little crackly hum. “And clearly he still appreciates your efforts, considering his method of dragging me here to make me apologize for thinking the worst of your relationship. So, I’m sorry for that.”
Nie Huaisang gives a watery little chuckle and swipes at his eyes again. “Accepted. Is he… Is he alright? I only know how to contact souls, I don’t know anything about tending to them.”
“Honestly… I’m not sure what can be done,” Wei Wuxian admits as he begins another examination. “There’s really so little of him left, I don’t know what will happen if a purification ritual is attempted. He seems to be more stable as he is than Xiao Xingchen was, but there’s no guarantee he’ll stay like that. Still, I owe it to him to find some way to help him out, so I’ll do what I can.”
“If it would be easier for you to take him back to the Cloud Recesses for study, then… then you should,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian is a little bit impressed that he was able to make the offer despite how much it must have hurt.
“I think he’d be much happier staying here,” he says, then tentatively adds, “But that would mean visits, plural, and while I’m definitely going to have a very long talk with them about all this, I doubt I’ll be able to come without either Lan Zhan or Wen Ning… probably both at first.”
Nie Huaisang rubs his temples with his fingertips, his expression cycling through a complicated series of emotions too quickly for Wei Wuxian to follow, then he sighs. “We’ll figure something out,” he says as he reaches out and takes back the pouch.
Wei Wuxian can’t help smiling at the tender way he cradles it against his chest as he gets up to approach the funeral tablet and put it back in place. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”
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nextdoor-neighbors · 3 years
Text
Sweet Revenge
Request: hi babes! ur writing is amazing! i was wondering if i could request a fred x reader where reader and fred get into a fight over fred being flirty with other girls and the next morning reader is in a very revealing outfit and makes all the boys (harry ron george neville and even draco if you’d like) jealous all day and ignores fred and u can choose how it ends!
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Some sexual content near the end
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“Nice one, Y/N!”
“Yeah, that was awesome!”
You smile proudly at your patronus. It was the first time, after hours upon hours of trying both during and after Dumbledore’s Army meetings, that you were able to successfully produce your patronus. You stand with Ginny and Hermione, who are as excited as you are. You turn to see if Fred, your boyfriend, had seen your success. After all, he was the one you’d been complaining to about not being able to do it, so you hope that he saw you finally succeed.
Instead, you’re met with Fred standing across the room, surrounded by the Gryffindor Chasers and a few other girls, who are all giggling at something he said. You watch, your heart dropping, as he sends a wink in Angelina Johnson’s direction before going back to whatever story he was animatedly telling them.
You can’t believe him. There’s no way you’re going to be able to produce your patronus again - at least not now, with anger building in your chest. Fred is a very friendly, very flirty person, and you’ve known that, since before you started dating. And it’s not that you ever expect his attention all the time, but to flirt openly with other girls with you in the same room?
You turn back to Hermione and Ginny, who noticed, too. Both girls have a scowl on their faces.
“That git,” Ginny grumbles, “I’ll hex him, if you want. Actually, I don’t care if you want me to or not. I’ll do it anyway.”
“No, no, Gin, it’s fine,” you say, “I’ll talk to him after the meeting.”
“Let me know when you’re done. I still want to hex him for being an idiot.”
Ginny’s protectiveness of you, despite you being a year older than her, makes you laugh a little. The two of you were friends before Fred and you started dating, so naturally, the relationship came with lots of threats and warnings from Ginny to Fred about what she’d do to him if he ever hurt you. But still, you want to approach this situation on your own.
The meeting ends soon afterwards, and you go to leave the room without waiting for Fred, the image of him flirting with the group of girls burned in your memory.
“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”
You keep walking, your stomach twisting as you hear his footsteps growing closer.
“Hey,” Fred repeats as he reaches you, his tone breathy after his run down the hall. You don’t even look over at him.
“Hi,” you say shortly.
“Are you upset?” he asks, “Were you not able to produce your patronus again? You’ll get it one of these days, I know-“
“No, I did it,” you interrupt, your tone still flat and uninterested.
“Y/N, that’s great! Then why are you-“
“You were just too busy flirting with other girls to notice,” you finish, cutting him off again.
He goes silent, and you risk a glance over at him. You know that he knows exactly what he was doing, and that’s what makes you so upset. But now, he looks slightly dumbfounded, as if he didn’t think it would affect you.
“And so what?” he finally says, turning to look at you, a hard look in his eyes. “It’s not like... It’s not like I was doing anything wrong, y’know, like, like... like cheating-“
“Really?” you ask, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the hallway. The two of you took the longer path back to Gryffindor Tower, so you really hoped that nobody was going to come down this way, too.
“We are in a relationship, Fred, in case you forgot!” you continue, your voice growing louder as your anger spills out, both at the initial flirting and now, at his horrible response. “You can’t just flirt with other girls! It’s still shitty to do!”
Fred just looks at you for a minute, his face mirroring your anger, before turning to walk away.
“I was just telling them a story,” he says, defensively, “And I’m sorry I missed your patronus, but I can’t be paying attention to you every second, okay? I have other friends to talk to.”
“I’m aware, Fred. I’m glad you have plenty of friends to talk to, but talking to them is different than openly flirting with them! And with me in the same room? Why would you do that?”
He doesn’t respond as you approach the common room. He grumbles the password to the Fat Lady, and you follow him silently into the common room. It’s mostly quiet besides a few younger girls sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and giggling to each other.
“Look,” Fred says, quietly, turning around to face you. “I’m sorry I made you upset. I just think that you overreacted-“
“No, Fred,” you reply, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible so that the girls on the couch don’t overhear, but in your anger, it’s extremely hard. “You should’ve thought about what you were doing first. Now, I’m tired, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
You walk past him, up to your room, not bothering to stay and hear him say goodnight in return or turn around to look at him over your shoulder. You’re too frustrated with him right now, and you already have a plan for tomorrow to get back at him. You know you shouldn’t, and that it’s petty, but if you’re completely honest with yourself, you think it’ll be a little fun.
Once you’re up to your room, you give a very short rundown of the situation to Hermione before going to bed. It takes you a while to fall asleep as you toss and turn, thoughts of Fred flirting with the other girls and then defending himself with that firey look in his eyes filling your head as you drift off
-
You wake up early the next morning to properly choose your outfit. Unfortunately, it’s a schoolday, but you can work with that.
You choose your shortest skirt and tighest shirt, making sure to leave the top few buttons undone. You’ll fix yourself up before class, but you have all of breakfast to work on your plan. Next, you sit yourself down on your bed, pulling up your knee-high socks. You then let your undone tie rest over your shoulders and pull on your robe, letting it hang open to display your outfit choice. You actually look pretty good, if you do say so yourself. You’re normally so careful to wear your uniform properly at all times, and even on weekends, you usually still wear outfits that cover you up a good amount, so you’re sure to catch some eyes today.
“Good mor-... Oh. Wow.”
Hermione looks you up and down a few times before meeting your eyes with a slight smirk.
“You’re trying to get a reaction out of Fred, aren’t you?”
You smile. “Do you think it’ll work?”
“Absolutely.” Hermione looks you over once again. “You’re going to drive him mad. Let me get ready and I’ll walk down to breakfast with you. I want to see this.”
You know that most of the boys would be down at breakfast by the time you and Hermione got there, because that’s how it usually goes, which works perfectly for your plan.
Once Hermione is dressed and ready, books tucked under her arm per usual, the two of you head down to the common room. Ginny sits, perched on the armrest of one of the chairs, waiting. When she sees you and Hermione approaching, she hops off the armrest. Her eyes widen at you and she whistles.
“Something tells me this new look has to do with Fred? I’m not complaining at all, but you better fill me in.”
You explain the situation to Ginny as the three of you make your way to the Great Hall.
“Hermione’s right,” she says, “Fred’s gonna go crazy with all the boys who are gonna be checking you out today. Girls, too.” She winks at you, which makes both you and Hermione laugh.
Your eyes go right to the Gryffindor table as you walk into the Great Hall, where you see Fred, sitting between George and Ron, with Harry next to Ron, and Lee Jordan next to George. It’s a perfect setup, because there’s three spots waiting across from them for you, Hermione, and Ginny, between Neville and Dean Thomas.
The only one from that group who looks up as you walk in is Harry. His eyes widen as he looks at you, and some water drips down his chin from the goblet he was drinking from. You can’t help but laugh.
“Might have to take a few notes from you to get Harry’s attention like that,” Ginny teases quietly as the three of you approach the table. You take the middle seat, across from Fred, and Hermione and Ginny take the seats on either side of you.
“Good morning, boys,” Ginny says, loudly, interrupting their conversation.
All eyes turn to Ginny, but immediately drift over to you. You watch as Ron’s eyes drop to your chest, and he blushes deeply before looking up to your face again.
“Lookin’ good, Y/N,” Lee says, loudly, to which George elbows him, probably because he can already feel the anger radiating off of his twin.
You look at Fred, finally, who has his jaw set as he looks you over, but he stays silent.
“Thank you, Lee.” You smile sweetly at him before dropping your eyes to grab some food.
As you bite into a muffin, you look back up to George, who’s already looking at you. He raises his eyebrows at you when Fred isn’t looking, as if to say, what the hell are you doing?
You simply wink at him in return, just as Fred glances over at you. But you avoid Fred’s eyes, looking back down to your breakfast.
Once you finish eating, you stand up.
“I have to head back to my room to get my things before class. I’ll see you guys later.” You smile at everyone, again avoiding looking at Fred. You know that you’re pissing him off, especially by ignoring him, but it’s almost like a game now.
“Y/L/N-“
You turn towards the voice as you leave the Gryffindor table to see Draco Malfoy walking towards you. Now that’s a surprise, and if there’s anything that’s going to make Fred completely lose it, it’s Malfoy talking to you.
Draco looks you up and down as he approaches, and you keep walking out of the Great Hall, nonverbally telling him that if he wants to talk to you, he’ll have to follow, which is exactly what he does.
“You still dating Weasley?” he asks, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.
“Yes, I am, and if you’ve just come to insult my boyfriend to me, I’ll hex you. Again.”
Panic flits across Draco’s face momentarily as he, no doubt, remembers an incident between the two of you a few months prior. Soon enough, it’s gone, and his smirk is back as he shoves his hands into his pants pockets.
“No, I just came to say that when you inevitably get sick of him and all of his equally annoying siblings, you can come find me.”
“You just insulted him. Not only him, but his siblings, who happen to be some of my best friends,” you point out, more annoyed than anything. You’re not actually going to hex him (this time), but it’s fun to see his reaction when you threaten it.
Draco scoffs. “Considering what I could say about them, annoying is practically a compliment. I’m just saying-“ He looks you up and down once again- “I’m sure I could show you a much better time than Weasley.”
You roll your eyes again as you approach the stairs that will lead you up to your common room. “Keep dreaming, Malfoy.”
You part ways from him, heading back to your room and grabbing your books for your first few classes. You look at yourself in the mirror as you fix up your uniform. As much fun as you’re having, you also don’t want house points taken away.
When you head back down to the common room, you’re surprised to see that Fred isn’t there. You’d been expecting him to follow you and give you some sort of reaction, and you were slightly disappointed that he didn’t. Although, that’s probably because Ginny is chewing him out at the breakfast table. You wouldn’t put it past her to call him out in front of everyone, which was something you’d always admired about your best friend.
You know you won’t see Fred again really until lunch, so the morning drags by. You sit by Neville in Transfiguration, and he gets slightly flustered when you strike up a conversation with him.
Surprisingly, Fred isn’t at lunch, which worries you a bit. You ask George where he is, and he just shrugs and says he had something to do, which is completely unlike him.
The afternoon drags by just as the morning did, and instead of going straight to dinner after last period, you make a beeline for the common room, hoping to catch Fred. After not talking to him all day and getting attention from every boy except for him, your anger at him has subsided for the most part, and now, you just miss him. Of course, you’re not going to let his actions from yesterday slide, but you want to talk it through with him.
Thankfully, he’s in the common room with George. They’re on the couch, talking amongst themselves about products for their shop. Fred looks up at you as you walk over, but you can’t read his expression very well past the furrow of his eyebrows. George glances up and quickly closes up the suitcase they’d been holding between them, whispering something to Fred before leaving.
“Hi,” you say - the first thing you’ve said directly to him all day.
“Hey.” He looks extremely good: he’s in his school shirt still, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, displaying his freckled forearms. His hair is messy, just like it always is after he runs his fingers through it when he’s stressed. He chews on his lip as his eyes scan your body. Your robe hangs over your arm, so you’re left in your tight shirt and short skirt.
“I know what you were doing today. It’s because of what I did yesterday, right?”
He doesn’t sound defensive, as you expected him to. Instead, he sounds... defeated, almost. You walk around the couch to sit next to him, taking the spot where George was. Fred immediately reaches out, resting his hand on your knee.
“Yeah,” you admit, “I wanted to make you jealous.”
He waits to respond as a group of fourth year boys walks through the common room to leave. Once they’re gone, he says,
“Well, it definitely worked. Nobody could keep their eyes off of you. And it made me realize...” He lets out a deep sigh. “How stupid I was yesterday. You were right. You, and George, and Ginny, and everyone else who called me out on it. I’m really sorry, princess. I hope you can forgive me.”
You know Fred well enough to know that he really means it. And while you forgive him, you can’t help but want to rile him up again, just for fun.
“I forgive you,” you reply. “Does this mean you’re not mad about Malfoy flirting with me and telling me that he can show me a better time than you can?”
Fred reacts instantly, sitting up straighter and his hand tightening on your knee. There’s a glint in his eye that you recognize very well.
“He did what now? That little-“
He cuts himself off, and instead, a smirk forms on his lips as he grabs you, and in one swift movement, pulls you on to his lap. Once you’re on his lap, your skirt hiking up your thighs, he grabs your hips tightly and leans towards you, lips against your ear.
“As if he - or anyone who was checking you out today - could make you feel better than I do.”
Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and at his body pressed against yours. He may piss you off sometimes, and you may piss him off in return, but at the end of the day, he’s yours and you’re his. And you wouldn’t want it to be any other way.
“Oh yeah?” You grind down against his growing bulge, and he lets out a low groan. Everyone else is definitely at dinner by this time, so the two of you are safe with the common room to yourselves. You smirk at him.
“Then show me.”
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bokebelle · 3 years
Text
connie springer + friends with benefits
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A/N: this is very very self-indulgent and ended up being longer than intended but please enjoy my Connie brainrot bc i love him a lot and he needs more content
WARNINGS: 16+; friends with benefits relationship; mentions of sex; modern au
PAIRINGS: connie springer x gn!reader
TAGS: fluff, a tiny tiny bit of angst.
REQUESTS: open
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One of the best people to get into a friends with benefits type of relationship 💯
You guys would have to be good friends before this kind of relationship happens. Connie may be fun and goofy from time to time but he wants to make sure you trust him as a partner and vice versa
He probably wasn't even looking for a fwb type relationship tbh it probably just happened and you guys just went with it
it probably started with growing sexual tension whenever you two hung out. A little playful flirting here and there 👀
At a party, you two were a little flirter than usual and he just looked around to see if anyone was around, and whispered in your ear if you wanted to make out in his car LMAO of course you agreed
things just escalated over time til he offered to take you home one night and you best believe he did NOT go home that night
When the post nut clarity finally hit that you guys hooked up, he just asks if you would want to do it again
Connie turned to look at you, lips slightly swollen, with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and a light sheen of sweat on his chest. "So...wanna do it again?"
"Right now?!" you sit up, instantly feeling the soreness in your lower half. you definitely weren't ready for another round
"Not now, dummy. But maybe...whenever we both wanna, y'know..." he avoided looking at you, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his own proposition. "but if you totally don't want to, it's fine I understand."
A small smile dances on you lips. He looked cute all flustered, suddenly looking nervous when he was anything but just moments ago. "I think I'd like that."
You two don't really tell anyone, but you don't keep it a secret either. He'd tell them what's up if people would ask (if you wanted them to know) but since you guys flirt all the time no one really suspected anything more was going on
the longer your relationship progresses, the bolder he gets lmao literally went from being shy about asking to hookup in his apartment to dragging your ass you his car during a date because his dick "suddenly missed his best buddy" you smacked him
He is also very open to experimenting and trying new things. He'll try it once and if it doesn't work then it's fine. He also respects your boundaries if ever you don't feel comfortable with the idea of trying something new. he won pressure you and won't bring it up
Probably uses a safeword like "taco"
He isn't THAT rough that you'd need one, but he wants to give you the option of stopping whenever you feel like you can handle it 😭 this baby doesn't wanna hurt you and wants you as safe as possible 🥺
This man is a great mix of playful and serious in the bedroom. He knows when to make you laugh during sex and to tone it down when you just need a physical release. your comfort is his priority so he wants to make sure he fits whatever you need
Connie is actually really good with aftercare despite not knowing it's actually a thing!!
He just knows it's on him to take care of his partner afterwards so he helps you clean up, gives you clean clothes especially if you're at his place, and offers you a snack or asks if you wanna watch a movie
If you want to cuddle and just talk, he's totally down! if you also need some personal space, he'll totally respect that and give you the time you need, whenever you need it.
He can be a total flirt but he's also very friendly and knows his limits so he doesn't end up sending mixed signals. He's flirty enough to keep things interesting but not enough to confuse either of you about your relationship unless he falls for you.
Great aftercare? Attentive in the bedroom? Funny, handsome, respectful king? overall one of the best people to have a FWB relationship hands down
If you ever decide you want to end that kind of setup, he'll totally respect it and would still treat you as a good friend! will occasionally make inside jokes about hooking up but it's all in good nature because he enjoyed his time with you and he wants you to remember that time with the same smile he has whenever he thinks about it pls i love him
BONUS: Falling in love with Connie during your FWB relationship (and him falling in love you with back)
honestly how can you not fall for him
Connie is always so sweet, funny, respectful, both in and out of the bedroom so it wasn't long before you started wanting to stay in his arms a bit more after a good session
Connie never treated you any differently, but there were times when things just felt different
The moment you knew you had feelings for him was when he fucked you differently compared to your previous sessions
Sure he would blow your back out every now and then, but there were also more mellow times with him when you both were feeling lazy and needy
But THIS was a new experience. He fucked you slowly, but intensely. His hands were all over you but his touches were more gentle and soft. His kisses were a little bit sweeter and the caresses on your face lingered just a bit longer.
You snuggled into his chest a little more after that and you swore he held you a bit tighter, pulling your body just a bit closer to his. When you became aware of his heart beating under your ear, and found yourself being lulled to sleep by it, you knew you were fucked both literally and figuratively
Your feelings for him weighed you down more and more until you decided you were playing a dangerous game and you had to get out before you reached the point of no return
it sucked having to break things off with Connie but it was the first rule of any fwb relationship and you broke it more and more everyday.
As you sat up and rolled out of bed, ready to get dressed and leave, you felt Connie's arms come up behind you and rested his chin against your shoulder.
"Hey, why don't you stay the night?" he asked, placing a quick kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
You exhale heavily, dreading what was coming next. You didn't plan on breaking it off so soon, but you knew staying the night would only be the wrong choice to make - for your sake and your heart's.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"C'mon, this isn't the first time you've stayed the night. Please?" You wanted to give in. You wanted to roll around, kiss his pretty face and spend the night in his arms. But knowing he didn't feel the same way as you did, knowing you'd leave with a heart that would break a little bit more if you stayed over, is what made you say no.
"It's not a good idea, Connie." you take a deep breath. "Actually, I think we aren't a good idea anymore."
You felt him withdraw his arms from your torso, the areas where he held you instantly feeling cold and empty. You hold on tighter to the sheets, partly to cover yourself up but mostly to keep you from breaking down in front of him.
"What?! Why not? Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough?"
Connie desperately racked his brain for what could have gone wrong from when you were saying his name like a prayer to now. He didn't want to mess it up with you, he really didn't. You slowly became someone he felt safe with. You became the one he wanted to see first thing in the morning, that's why he wanted you to stay over. He was falling for you, but he didn't want to admit it just yet. Maybe you caught on and didn't feel the same way? He knew he'd have to tell you eventually, but he wanted to be selfish a little bit longer. He wanted to enjoy what you guys had before going back to being just friends with no 'benefits'.
"I know we agreed to being just friends but I think I'm starting to feel something more than that and it's really stupid. But I don't think I can do this anymore without falling for you more than I already have." The tension in the air is palpable. In the time it takes for what you said to finally sink in Connie's mind, you decided his silence was his final answer.
When Connie saw your figure quietly get up from the edge of the bed, he knew this was his chance.
He quickly made his way over to your side, sitting on the edge. He reached out and gently wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Don't go, please." He whispered into the skin of your back.
You turn to look at him, keeping your tears at bay, trying to pry his arms off of you. God, with the way he was looking at you, that was almost all the convincing you need to stay just last night with him
"Connie, don't make this harder on me. You don't understa-"
"No, [y/n]" he cuts you off, now moving his hands to hold yours. "you don't understand." he delicately presses a kiss to your fingertips before kissing the back of your hand. "I want you. I want you to stay."
The meaning behind his words lit a spark in you that erupted into a passionate flame in your chest.
Connie wanted you. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
You cup his face, one of his hands coming up to rest over yours. You lean down and place the sweetest, softest kiss you can on his lips. It's not much but you hope he can feel all you've wanted to tell him in that one kiss.
"Okay, Connie, okay" you whisper as your lips pulled away from his own, a small smile forming when he whined at the loss of contact.
You committed the image of Connie Springer pouting at you because he wanted a kiss to your memory. You would tease him about it soon enough, you just wanted cherish the fact that he wanted kisses - your kisses.
You had more nights to share, more kisses to give him, but for now you just wanted to enjoy the feeling of having Connie in your arms, knowing you had each other as long as your hearts wanted.
You wanted to enjoy the feeling of Connie simply being there, finally being yours. He wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you.
"I'll stay."
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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years
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Build-A-Bear
Part Twelve
Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Steve, Sam, bff!Peter Parker
Warnings: language, mentions of smut/sex tapes, blackmail/threatening
Summary: With Tony now on your side, you and Bucky are able to take steps toward stopping your blackmailer — until things take a dark turn.
Author’s Note: Ugh, it’s not as long as I’d like it to be but it’s a good lead-up to the final chapter and I won’t feel so bad about taking forever if I finally get something out there 😖 I haven’t been in the best headspace lately but things are kind of looking up so hopefully I get the conclusion out faster 😞
Series Masterlist
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Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed @charmedbysarge @cruelsummer-s @fandomlovver @ahahafudge @thebivirgin
You thanked every deity in existence that there wasn’t enough room for you and four grown men in the Jeep because your dad had to drive separately from you, Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Once the doors shut, however, there was one question lingering in the air.
“So… how’d it go?” Sam asked.
Bucky let out a sigh.
“I’m still alive,” he deadpanned.
“Are you gonna… you know… stay that way?” Sam asked slowly.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the question. And when Bucky glanced over at you, he laughed quietly too. Which led to Steve chuckling at him and Sam smiling at the way he (unintentionally) relieved some of the gravity of the situation.
Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit for the rest of the drive, but you caught him growing tense again when you all met your dad in the underground parking garage. It was the only place in your apartment building with no windows and no audio, but you knew there was video surveillance. There was a chance your stalker had access to the video, most likely through hacking the system, but they wouldn’t know what was being said. As you approached your father, he pulled what looked like two sniper rifles out of the backseat.
“Barnes, Wilson. You’re coming with me,” he said.
“Dad,” you chastised, assuming he was only taking Bucky with him to keep him from you.
“He was a World War II sniper, [Y/N]. It makes sense to have him using a scope to check where this psycho was watching you.”
You were silent in response, mostly because you knew he was right. And you’d still have Steve with you in your apartment, so it’s not like you’d be left alone.
Bucky immediately checked the safety and pulled back the bolt handle to make sure it was fully unloaded. He didn’t expect it to have anything in the chamber since there was no magazine, but he learned to take extra precaution. And just like when he cleared your apartment all those months ago, something about seeing him wield the power of a firearm made you shiver. How very American of you.
“These are all connected to a secure line,” Tony continued as he handed everyone the type of flip phone you had in middle school. “I hope you all remember how to text the old fashioned way because we’re not calling unless absolutely necessary. Considering what was in the video,” his jaw clenched as his eyes shot daggers at Bucky, “there are probably audio and video devices all over the apartment.”
“We scanned for that when we first started staying with her,” Sam said. “I just figured the video was taken before her identity was released.”
What he said just solidified Steve’s assumption. You definitely knew who was blackmailing you.
“It was after,” you said. “It was… that night was shortly after the…” you hesitated. Everyone looked at you patiently, but you could see Bucky take a subtle step away from your dad. He knew when the video was taken. “Um, it was shortly after the, uh, the pregnancy scare.”
All eyes moved to Bucky and Tony. The emotions that flickered across your dad’s face clearly showed his thoughts: shock, confusion, realization... You wouldn’t be surprised if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back; Bucky must’ve had the same thought as he darted to stand behind you.
“The what?!” Tony barked. “You — Barnes! I’m gonna —” He cut himself off and just huffed out a heavy breath, his hands curled into fists by his side and his jaw tight in an attempt to calm himself down.
“Not to make things worse but it takes two,” you said. “I was a willing participant.”
“But did it have to be with him?!”
“Dad!”
“I’m just saying, pumpkin, it could’ve been Parker!”
“He’s a kid!”
“And he,” your dad countered, pointing at Bucky, “is a senior citizen!”
“Oh my god,” you groaned. “I’m not having this conversation now. We’ll argue about my taste in men later. Go check out the buildings.”
You twisted on your heel and pulled Bucky down for a very unnecessary kiss. You knew it pissed your dad off, but he was being so frustrating! With a snap of his fingers, Tony got Sam and Bucky to follow him out the doors to the street where they would split up and check out the buildings within view of your kitchen and bedroom to see which one the photos were taken from.
Steve led you up to your apartment so you two could stand in the kitchen for everyone to look for from their respective buildings. You hopped up onto the counter while Steve leaned against the fridge across from you, arms crossed and brow furrowed as your eyes met.
“I think you’re right,” you said plainly. Steve held his finger up to his lips and pulled out the flip phone. You were kind of shocked he knew how pre-smart phone texting worked, but he continued to surprise you.
What makes you say that?
It’s not easy to get in this building. It’s even harder to get in my apartment.
Right as you hit send, a familiar jolt of realization shot up your spine. There was one major thing all of you were forgetting. You leaped off the counter and ran to your bedroom with Steve hot on your heels. In your earlier panic, none of you thought to look for a camera in the bedroom. There’s only one angle that video could’ve been taken from and it would’ve had to be inside your room.
If your memory served you correctly, the camera would’ve been set up somewhere on or near your bookshelf. Steve stood in the doorway while you scanned through all your books. You practically knew your setup by heart, so catching the skinny book that was out of place didn’t take long.
You turned to face Steve as you said, “I don’t have a hard cover copy of ‘Romeo and Juliet.’” You turned back to glare at the book and mumbled, “I actually hate ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”
The book was pretty thin, making it stand out even more in your extensive collection, but the title was written in a clear, elegant script along the spine. It almost made you question your own memory — until you noticed the ballpoint-sized hole near the bottom. The black background made it almost indistinguishable, but when you pulled it from the shelf, the hole was evident. And when you pulled it open, you found wires inside the cut-out pages and a small camera tucked against the hole in the spine.
“That fucker didn’t even clean up after himself,” you spat, throwing the pseudo-book onto your mattress. Steve picked it up and checked it out before calling Peter.
“Hey, if I send you a camera, can you see if it’s being wirelessly streamed to a separate device?” Your head snapped back to Steve at those words. When did the old man become so well-versed with tech? The last you knew, he struggled to take an iPhone video. Just a few months ago, he asked what the difference was between a flash drive and a hard drive.
While Steve talked to Peter, you walked back to the kitchen to see if the other boys were all in place. You didn’t have the scopes and binoculars they did, but you could still take a guess at which building your stalker took the photos from.
There weren’t many buildings high and close enough for that kind of angle and clarity, but the one you eyed most was just a bit to your left and a couple stories above where your apartment sat in your building. It wouldn’t be cheap to get a place like that, which made you start to doubt Steve’s assumption.
As you stood in the floor-to-ceiling window frame of your kitchen, your flip phone started buzzing in your hand.
“Yeah?” you answered.
“Don’t say anything that might give us away, in case there’s a recording device in your apartment,” Tony said. “I’m in the building right across from you but the angle doesn’t feel right. I think your boy toy is in the right place.”
As if on cue, Steve stepped beside you and answered his phone.
“Hey, Buck.”
“Sounds like you’re right,” you said to your dad. “He just called Steve.”
“We’ll meet you in the parking garage.” With that, your line went dead.
“Okay, meet us downstairs,” Steve said before ending his own call. “Buck’s pretty sure he found the apartment the photos were taken from. Sent the address to Parker so we should get contact info soon.”
You just nodded and headed downstairs again. Things were finally starting to look up. You had two new leads on top of anything Peter, Pepper, and Happy had found and prayed they somehow linked back to Steve’s accused.
Unfortunately, your optimism was shattered when everyone met back up in the garage. Before anyone could say a word, your personal cell started ringing, but the caller ID was... Bucky.
No one said a word as you all met beside the Jeep and you showed everyone the “James 🐻” ringing on your screen, resulting in a lot of confused looks. Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket and proved he wasn’t accidentally butt-dialing you, freezing your blood in your veins.
“They’re spoofing,” Tony concluded.
“Answer it,” Steve said.
“Put it on speaker,” Sam added quickly.
You nodded as you pressed “accept,” doing your best to keep your voice steady and unbothered.
“Hello?”
“You’ve really done it now, [Y/N].” The voice on the other end said slowly. They were clearly distorting the sound and you’d bet they couldn’t be traced. They’d never be that stupid. “Have your boyfriend search your name.”
You looked up at Bucky who was scrambling to search your name on his phone… and immediately paled. He almost looked like he had seen a ghost, though you’d argue what he actually saw was so much worse.
“They released the video.”
Your throat constricted as you tried to not literally throw up at those four words. And when Bucky shuffled beside you to show you the top results under your name, you weren’t sure how long you could hold it back. The first page of results was just news articles about your sex tape even though it had been released only 20 minutes ago. You snatched Bucky’s phone and clicked the link to the video and sure enough, it was you and Bucky. Two hours of you and Bucky.
“You son of a bitch,” you practically growled into the phone. “That wasn’t part of your fucking deal.”
“You took away my first bargaining chip so I played my second. And believe me, I’ve got plenty more videos. You two are quite the pair,” the unnaturally deep voice snarked. “But now you also know lives will be lost if you don’t listen. You now have three days or that man and his family die.”
The line cut out then, leaving everyone standing in stunned silence.
“I’ll get Pep on taking down the video,” Tony muttered before pulling his phone out to text Pepper. “We’ll have to swing by a couple banks and pull out the money.”
“Dad, I don’t want you to bail me out,” you practically whined.
“We don’t have any other option, [Y/N],” he snapped. “You don’t have to give a shit about him releasing sex tapes of you and the Vibranium Vibrator,” Bucky cringed at that nickname, “but I know you won’t let that other kid’s family die. We’ll keep trying to track them down, but we have to be prepared.”
You sighed. You knew he was right. If you ended up finding the culprit, if Steve was right, you could just put the money back. Plus, two million out of your father’s billions wasn’t enough to break him.
“Okay, fine. Let’s get ready,” you mumbled.
Steve interjected before anyone moved too far.
“I have a plan.”
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let’s talk about 9-1-1 buddie headcanons:
- eddie gets rid of his truck. christopher is getting older and wants more independence so he gets something with better clearance. and I’ve decided that something is a dodge durango. eddie is actually really into it. can’t stop talking about the fold down seats and towing capabilities. buck teases him and calls it his soccer mom van. then immediately starts researching CP-friendly soccer leagues for chris.
- buck strikes me as a podcast kinda guy. I feel like a lot of his random facts probably start with information learned via podcast and then researched separately on google or wikipedia. 
- luddite eddie my beloved. but not like luddite luddite. eddie’s a millennial so I see him as okay with all the 20th century technology he grew up with and just not all the newfangled smart home/internet gaming stuff. 
- abuela gives eddie an old turntable and a box of records and he falls in love with it. likes to play spanish love songs while cleaning on the weekends.
- eddie breaks up with ana. he does it quietly and cordially a couple weeks after the sniper incident.
- buck and taylor date for a little while but never really take off. and it’s super important that it’s buck who makes the decision to break up. they both have very busy lives and different priorities. and taylor acknowledges she probably shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place. she just hated to see buck so broken and wanted to comfort him. they decide they are better as friends.
- bosko and eddie friendship rights! eddie actually apologizes to her and they become gym buddies. lena stops going to the junkyard fights and finds an MMA gym that she’ll take eddie to. during the pandemic they somehow find themselves doing socially distanced tai-chi in the park. they keep it up once the gyms reopen.
- side note: lena does in fact get a cat. he’s a huge floofy maine coon named sarge who absolutely adores eddie. rubs his head all over him and immediately worms his way into his lap when eddie visits. he hisses at buck tho and lena finds it endlessly hilarious.
- demisexual eddie! I like the idea of lena no-nonsense asking eddie if he’s ace one day and eddie just having an internal panic attack but not being able to figure out why. karen gently brings it up few months later and he’s just deny deny deny. then he overhears david telling michael that he gives off ace vibes and that’s the last straw. so eddie pulls a full buck and starts researching just to prove everyone wrong. except it’s like a lightbulb clicks on and yeah. maybe there’s something to this.
- eddie and karen have a book club every other week. usually novellas or a short story collection. queer theory and literary fiction. the occasional poetry book. at some point they invite david to join them. they also have a not-so-secret romance novel exchange because they are big saps.
- eddie is also a sucker for a really good cup of black coffee. has a favorite hole-in-the-wall cafe where he buys beans in bulk. buck calls it his diesel fuel drink and grimaces at the taste. he prefers simple oatmilk latte from the place near the station. and yet buck always seems to know what days eddie will be running late and rushing to work and has a cup from said hole-in-the-wall coffee waiting. despite it not being on buck’s route. 
- christopher loves buck’s loft. buck keeps a stash of toys and coloring books in his coffee table trunk for when he visits. chris sees the stairs as a fun challenge and will often ask to go up and sit on buck’s bed to watch the city. or sit on the patio while buck bbq’s dinner for the three of them. he thinks it’s the coolest house ever.
- buck actually rides his bike. it’s not just for show. especially after the pandemic hit. he likes to go out in the mornings. drives to a nearby trail on his days off and enjoys the scenery while the sun comes up. sometimes eddie and chris meet him there after his ride and they have a breakfast picnic.
- the diaz-buckley-han’s share one netflix account. it’s technically buck’s in that he pays for it, but when maddie moved to LA he set her up with her own profile. then logged into his account at eddie’s one day and never logged out. renamed the profile buck & eddie after he setup a kid’s profile specifically for chris. then after learning about maddie and chim’s not-dating buff-fridays, buck put both their names on her profile as a prank. and then it just stayed that way. jee-yun even has a profile despite being a literal infant that doesn’t watch tv. maddie cried when she saw it.
- buck takes the legal guardianship thing very seriously. he’s already really involved in essentially co-parenting chris but he starts getting really nervous about asking invasive questions about chris’ medical history. so eddie sits him down with chris and the three of them talk about it. eddie very specifically asks chris if he’s okay with sharing that kind of info with buck. because even tho christopher’s a kid eddie always wants him to have a say in his own health decisions. then he has a more in-depth convo with just buck about insurance and bills and doctor’s visits. makes sure buck has access to all of it. 
- chris played secret matchmaker. went to his old friend santa claus and asked if buck would stay forever. santa came thru, as always.
- also carla knows. buck starts spending more nights at the diaz house and one morning she lets herself in and sees buck coming out of eddie’s room in just a pair of sweatpants. she gives him a coy eyebrow raise and buck blushes. then she just laughs, pats his cheek affectionately, and says your secret’s safe with me buckaroo. when a bleary-eyed eddie wanders out a half hour later she pushes a cup of coffee into his hands, waits a few moments, looks eddie dead in the eyes, and points at buck. I see you took my advice. eddie chokes on his coffee.
- speaking of carla she is family. she and her husband are regular guests at the 118 get-togethers, holidays at the firehouse, and family meals. she occasionally takes on other clients, but she’s mostly exclusive to the diazes these days. esp as christopher gets older and wants more independence. she’s been around since he was 7 and he’s comfortable with her. she stays his home heath care aide until she retires. then she personally vets a new one. because not just anyone will do for her boy. they throw her a huge retirement party.
- gonna jump into the future because christopher absolutely names his daughter carla shannon buckley-diaz. there isn’t a dry eye in the house.
- and I don’t actually see chris calling buck pops or anything. he’s just his buck. tho I can see eddie asking christopher if he wants to hyphenate his last name when buck officially adopts him. buck’s his hero so chris is 100% onboard. 
- buck and eddie don’t have more kids. eddie never wanted more and buck is surrounded by the ever-expanding horde of firefam kids. they love their little trio.
- also eddie is hilariously terrible with other kids. he just. doesn’t know how to talk to them. he’s literally the best father ever with christopher, but any other kid and he’s all awkward hello small human. it’s also the reason the team sends buck to handle kid rescues. he knows how to speak to kids and they light up around his sunshine energy. but then there are certain kids who just glom onto eddie. usually the quiet ones. they find something about his calm dad presence very soothing so they just cling to him until buck can coax them around. 
- I do not see the buckley-diazes getting a pet. buck and eddie work long shifts and it’s not fair to put that kind of extra responsibility on carla when her job is to care for chris. however, as chris gets older he does get a mobility service dog to help with counterbalance. she’s a golden retriever named stella and she’s a very good girl. 
- buck proposes by accident. they’re at the park with christopher and marriage just sorta comes up during one of his infodumps. eddie is eating his sandwich, nodding along, and just casually says of course I want to marry you. buck stops talking. christopher giggles. eddie panics. but when he looks at buck he’s all puppy-eyed and hopeful. you do? eddie nods. chris chimes in with a stage whispered ask properly buck and say yes dad. so they do.
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alreadyblondenow · 3 years
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My best friend, my p*rn 
▸Johnny x camgirl!reader (cam girl au, best friends to lovers) ▸ 2,103k words ▸ Fluff, Smut ▸ Cam girl reader, prostitution, online bidding, heavy making out, lots of kissing, lots of touching, fingering, mentions of oral sex male receiving, oral sex female receiving, mentions of sex  ▸ Requested, see anon message at the end of this drabble. 
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Being a cam girl is something you’re not proud of but it pays the bills and puts food on the table. Bringing pleasure to other people is not the best idea but you kinda like what you do and it’s like living a double life where in reality you’re this simple college student but when you’re live or on-air, you’re very popular that girls and boys beg for you.
Of course, the only person you trust knowing your double life is your best friend Johnny, whom you don’t is madly and deeply in love with you ever since the two of you became close friends. When you told him that you’re a cam girl, Johnny supported you all the way and became a regular to the point that he has become your anonymous generous tipper.
“User chicag0127 is being generous again- wow. I’m speechless. Thank you”
Tonight is kind of a special broadcast because you hit 100k followers and you have a surprise for everyone. “To celebrate our first milestone, I’m gonna hold an auction online, the highest bidder will be featured two times during my live stream this month....”
Upon hearing what you’re saying right now, Johnny cannot believe what has gotten into your head. Then he remembered, you were three semesters late on your tuition and the school might not let you graduate. “Fuck- you could end up with a creep! Fuck- Savings savings” he was quick to check his savings and easily closed the deal with you. He was sweating the entire time, scared that maybe the next higher bidder next to him might win you, but Johnny was successful.
“Sorry folks, but as expected, user chicag0127 is the higher bidder. I guess you will see us on my next live then!...”
After your live stream, you are more than thankful for chicag0127. The money went straight to your college tuition and now you can relax and not worry about the school holding you up for graduation. That night, you told Johnny what happened through text and waited for his reply before you go to bed.
You: were graduating together! That user that I was telling you, just covered my whole tuition.
The smile on Johnny’s face and the happiness that he felt was priceless, knowing that he could help his true love.
Johnny: Why didn’t you come to me in the first place? You know that I have money saved from my internship right? And idk where to spend it haha!
He jokes so he won’t sound suspicious.
You: it’s your money Johnny, you earned that because you worked hard during your internship.
And that night, you slept like a baby knowing that all is well.
One week later
You were sitting on the edge of the bed wearing only your silk robe and nothing else underneath. Any minute now, user chicag0127 will arrive and you're very much excited to meet your anonymous bidder. When the doorbell rang, you opened the door with a flirty smile that’s replaced with a confused expression when you see Johnny in front of you.
He was quiet. He was waiting for you to realize.
Then....
“Y-you’re”
“chicag0127”
“R-right... because you’re from Chicago and you’re Korean... fuck- I mean, come in, welcome. D-do you want coffee?”
Johnny went inside the hotel room quietly and without saying a word. To be honest, he didn’t know what to do too, like you, he’s confused and nervous. But would you rather see a stranger? So he balled up his courage and confronted you.
“You sit on my lap whenever I’m busy playing games on my phone, kiss me good morning whenever we have sleepovers, heck I already saw you naked because you don’t close your room whenever you dress up and you will say it’s completely fine-“ he breathes heavily and combs his black hair with his fingers, “I don’t understand why are you like this all of a sudden. I can leave you, know? But you can't disappoint your fans”
“Right we cant” you don’t know why Johnny feels like he’s a stranger now but you suck it up and remind yourself that Johnny paid for this. “You paid for this” you added while fluffing the pillow.
“Hey. I did not do it because I want to take advantage of you I did it because you could end up with a pervert a drug addict or an abuser” he points his fingers at you and sat on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“You’ve been tipping me for months!” You bite back, “Fine-Okay okay I get it. Uhm... wear this they can only see our lips, bodies, and not our faces” you hand him the silk mask that’s similar to what you’re using.
“This is our first day so kissing and touching only no more, no less,” you said, and upon explaining the instructions to Johnny, he proceeds to strip in front of you. Unbuttoning his dress shirt and looking so hot like he always does. You gulp when he’s only wearing his black pants in front of you, ready to remove his belt and his pants.
“On the second day, oral sex, however you like it. 69, blow job in the shower, anything then that’s it-oh and one more important thing. No talking you can whisper and make sounds but no talking for your safety. People might recognize you”
After explaining what’s needed, you dimmed the lights, closed the curtains, and setup the camera.“The live will automatically stop in thirty minutes”
“So we can kiss and touch for a whole thirty minutes?” He asked.
“Yes”
“I paid all my savings and thirty minutes is all I get?” He murmurs but you didn’t hear it. You pat the space on the bed next to you as you wait for the live to start automatically in five minutes. When he’s right beside you, waiting for your next move the room is cold and silent as he watches you remove your silk robe. He has seen your boobs far too many times, but this time it’s special like he’s seeing it for the first time again. ‘I'm sorry, he mouthed’ thinking maybe this is hard for you because you’re best friends.
‘It's okay,’ you mouth back because you would rather be with Johnny than a creep.
Slowly your faces move closer until your lips touch but not kissing yet. Johnny gave you a peck as if he’s testing the waters, then gave you another but this time it’s longer, and then another but this time his hand cups your face. It was a filthy kiss and you didn’t expect that Johnny is a good kisser. His tongue is sinful in so many ways. The way it swirls around your tongue, whenever he sucks your tongue leaves you breathless, his grip on your face is getting tighter and you feel his cock poking your thigh.
So with all your bravery, you put your hand inside his boxers briefs and palmed his cock while he kisses you. Slowly, he began to start touching you softly, running his fingers on your shoulders to your nipples until you shiver at his touch, making you stop kissing him and bite your lower lip. Johnny is amused and happy because you like what he’s doing to you.
While kneading your boobs, he started kissing you on your neck, licking you like you’re his favorite ice cream, and doing soft moaning sounds. He kissed you all over your body, making you feel loved and protected by him as always.
“Is this fine?” He whispered oh so quiet beside your ear and slowly run his finger on your very wet slit. Johnny’s finger slides up very smoothly because of your juices, he got excited because he can make you wet like this. You nod your head ‘yes’ and spread your legs a little more for Johnny and the viewers and with that, he finger fucked you before he ran out of time. Feeling his thick fingers go inside and outside of your cunt slowly. It feels so fucking good.
“Ten minutes” you whispered and kissed him again. You feel his smile in between kissing while he feels you getting near because you’ve clenching and unclenching around his finger.
The alarm on your live started beeping and the live is automatically cut off.
No one stopped when the live was over. You kept kissing Johnny and Johnny made you cum using his fingers. When you finally calmed down, Johnny kept you close and apologized. Until now he doesn’t know if you’re doing this with him because you’re actually loving it, or you’re doing this because he paid for it.
“Warm bath?” He offered.
You giggle and hugged him back like you used to, “we didn’t have sex you jerk.... but sounds good”
He gets out of bed and effortlessly scoops you from your comfort and brought you to the bathroom. The shower with Johnny turned every awkward situation around because he made you laugh the whole time you two were taking a shower. Singing different songs and thinking of what you should eat for dinner.
The next day, you and Johnny are laying in bed together enjoying the quietness of the hotel room like you guys did not do something filthy last night. Lips on your forehead hands at the back of your head, you hear his steady heartbeat and you’re actually happy that he is the one who did it.
You’re not with user chicag0127, you’re with Johnny. Things might take time but what he’s doing for you is heartwarming and stupid all the same time.
Second day
Johnny had a few ideas for day two. For starters, he really wanted to fuck your mouth and cum inside it. But it doesn’t feel right doing it to you, he loves you way too much for a thousand people see him do that to you. So he decided he’ll just tire you out the whole thirty minutes.
Your legs are perfectly spread and Johnny’s fingers spread your pussy lips as he licks up and down on your slit. It’s been a good twenty minutes already and your legs feel like jelly after cumming two times. When he felt your legs shaking and you’re breathing heavily, he stopped and kissed you all the way until he reaches your lips and automatically cups your boobs. You feel his very hard cock poking your thigh like he’s going to put it inside you any minute.
Surprisingly, you feel the tip of his head glide on your slit and you gave him a push as a warning but your strength is nothing compared to Johnny’s. “I will not put it in. Trust me on this” he whispered to you.
Nervous, but his lips calmed you in an instant, you trusted Johnny with his plan and let him do whatever he wants.
He continued to grind and gliding his cock on your wet slit and you are very thankful that you trusted him. You smile when he rolls his hips, you grip Johnny’s shoulders when you started being sensitive and then you don’t know what has gotten into you but you rolled your hips and put his head inside your cunt. You kissed him as you grind underneath him and he did not expect that from you.
He noticed you’re liking it too much, so he stopped then the alarm beeps and you thought he was regretting it. You let out a heavy sigh and covered yourself with the thick sheets, avoiding Johnny’s gaze.
“I stopped because I didn’t want any cameras involved when we do it”
Johnny started kissing your exposed shoulder, your neck, and your lips until he earns a smile from you. “let's go out on a date. A proper date. I’ve been always in love with y/n, and I’m sorry we have to get to this part first. I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry for using your work to express my feelings to you”
The way Johnny confessed to you is something you will never forget. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more so there's no harm in giving this a chance. You kissed him and invited him under the covers with you, “Let’s have a house date, we can cook. No more expensive stuff please, you’ve given so much money for the past few months” you rake your fingers through his hair and boops his noise.
“Anything for you” he smiled and reached for your lips again.
That night, you and Johnny stayed in the hotel bed and ordered ramen for dinner.
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Hello!!! I hope you love this because I enjoyed making this to the point that I want it to be a full fic but I dont have the time yet :( thank you for requesting! 
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kkeidawrites · 3 years
Note
Can you please write something for pregnant Greta? Like, it comes to a shock to both Greta and Alucard but they’re both so excited and happy about it or Alucard knows before she does and his dramatic ass plans a whole 9 yard evening dinner and tells her? Idc what it is but we need more Daducard content!!!
Her scent was different these past few days. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it could be.
Greta had been going to the latrine more often than usual and Alucard decided to try something to confirm his suspicions.
Her mood had also changed a lot during the past couple of weeks and Greta claims it’s just the stress from the building of the wall around the ever growing village of Belmont. There was also a time where Greta fell out in a faint while working on blueprints for the proper rope that needed to be used when building the wall.
The people of Belmont voiced their concerns to the dhampir and Alucard needed some advice on what it could be.
“Alucard, how often have you and Greta been…you know,” Sypha’s unfinished question makes the dhampir tilt his head in confusion. He had made a stop at, she and Trevor’s home to talk about Greta’s current conditions.
“What?” Alucard asked.
“She’s asking how long have you been fucking the headwoman unprotected?” Trevor’s vulgarity never ceased to amaze both Sypha and Alucard as his quip is earned with a slap to the back of his head.
“What does that have to do with-”
“Alucard, have you ever thought that maybe Greta is…pregnant?” Sypha asks and Alucard thought for a moment. He and Greta had been very much, been ‘together’ ever since they had married a year ago but, he would had never thought that he would have been able to procreate, albeit with his vampire and human background, it seemed impossible.
“She has been going to the latrine more often than usual, but I didn’t think it would pertain to that.” He tells Sypha.
“But you did say her scent has changed, right? The signs are all there. The fainting, the multiple trips to the latrine, she has been snacking a lot lately and it’s all going to her hips.” Alucard blushed at that. Greta’s hips have widened a bit and he has very much appreciated the change in them.
He often finds himself placing his hands on her hips and most instances squeezing her ass at the extra plumpness there.
“You should tell her Alucard.” Sypha suggested and Alucard sucked in a breath and then felt his cheeks flush a bit.
“And if she’s pregnant…? How do you think-do you think she would be-”
“Of course she would be thrilled Alucard,” Sypha grasps one of his hands in her small ones.
“You two have been together, going on two years now, not only are you both amazing godparents to our son, you both care enough to put others before you and are willing to do everything in your power to keep the people happy. That also means that you both should be happy as well.” Sypha tells him.
“But-”
“Oh for Christ sakes, just set up a dinner for you two tonight and just tell her. What’s the worst that can happen?” Trevor says with a shrug and Alucard bites his lower lip.
That evening, Alucard guides a giggling Greta to their shared bedroom and opens the door for her to step in first. She smiles at the gentlemanly gesture and Alucard watches her go inside their room his eyes finding her ass, bounce more often than before.
Her gasp of surprise made the dhampir look up to see Greta place a hand over her mouth in surprise at the small dinner setup in front of the fireplace. The small dining table held two plates and glasses with a nice dinner garnished on top.
Alucard closed the door and makes his way to her side, pulling out her chair and letting her sit in it. She thanks him as she is scoot in close to the table and Alucard takes his own seat across from her.
He serves them both a plate of grilled fish with potatoes, garlic and spices and then a glass of some sweet juice that Greta loved so much. The two quietly eat in silence.
Alucard’s heart seemed to be beating awfully loud as he kept sneaking glances at his love and Greta secretly smiles at this. The two years she’s gotten to know him, she noticed things that she would keep to herself. Even a particular spot under his chin that she loved to rub that makes him…she wouldn’t spill all that.
Alucard took another bite of his meal then set his fork down and cleared his throat to get her attention. Greta takes another sip of her drink and looks at Alucard’s slowly turning red face.
“Nervous?” She asked with a grin.
“Um, a bit.” He says rubbing his sweaty hands together.
“I wanted to tell you s-something. It’s a bit um…life changing.” He tells her. Greta’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
“Really?” She questions.
“Yes! Um, I think you will like it, love it actually,” he says and moves from his seat to take a knee by her hip. Greta turns her body to him.
Alucard grabs her right hand and kissed her knuckles, staying there a bit longer for her to feel all of his love for her.
“I love you. You know that right?” He asked and Greta smiles with a nod.
“As much as I love you.” He smiles.
“Greta, I…”
“I believe that you may be with…that you…”
He clears his throat again nervously. Greta felt she didn’t need to play with him anymore and put her left hand under her chin.
“So, when are you going to tell me that I am pregnant?” His eyes widened and then he laughs as she laughs as well.
“I’m guessing you already knew?” He asked.
“I just found out this afternoon, I was going to tell you later this evening, after we had dinner and among other…things.” She hinted with her eyes pointing to the bed.
“How did you find out?” He asked, actually curious.
“Adrian, I’ve been around pregnant women ever since I was young, I know the symptoms and I kind of figured I was with child when I kept blowing my chucks in the latrine far more times during the day and my snacking went straight to my hips and ass. I went to the healer and they had me do the latch test, and low and behold I am indeed pregnant.” She tells him.
Alucard’s lips break into a smirk and he suddenly scoops her up into his arms as the woman giggles.
“I can just pretend we didn’t break the ice on the news and we can still do other ‘things’.” Alucard teases as he walks them to their bed with a playful glint in his eye.
“What news?” Greta plays along and Alucard kisses her as she laughs again.
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I am soooooo sorry for the late response to your request I hope you like it!
Part 2!
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Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige
“The thing I love about being an actor is to fully work with someone and try so hard to be at every level with them, chasing whatever it is you need or want from them.”
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  GALLERY LINKS
Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 008 Magazine Scans > 2021 > Backstage (August 19)
Backstage: Elizabeth Olsen grins widely over video chat when recalling many such moments on set with her co-stars. Yet, she can’t bring herself to divorce such a lofty vision of film acting from the technical multitasking it requires. The camera sees all.
“But then you move your hair, and you’re in your brain, like: OK, remember that! Because I don’t want to edit myself out of a shot. I know some actors are like, ‘Continuity, shmontinuity!’ But the good thing about continuity is, if you remember it, you’re actually providing yourself with more options for the edit.”
That need to balance being both inside the scene and outside of it, fully living it and yet constantly visualizing it on a screen, feels particularly apt in light of Olsen’s most recent project, “WandaVision.”
The mysteries at the heart of the show grow with every episode, each fast-forwarding to a different decade: Could this 1950s, black-and-white, “filmed in front of a studio audience” newlyweds bit be a grief-stricken dream? Might this ’70s spoof be a powerful spell gone awry? Could this meta take on mockumentary comedies be proof that the multiverse is finally coming to the Marvel Cinematic Universe?
The series’ structure, which branches out to include government agents intent on finding out why Westview has seemingly disappeared, calls for the entire cast to play with a mix of genres, balancing a shape-shifting tone that culminates in an epic, MCU-style conclusion. What’s key—and why the show struck a chord with audiences during its nine-episode run—is the miniseries’ commitment to grounding its initial kooky setups and its later special effects-driven spectacle in heartbreaking emotional truths. It’s no small feat, though it’s one that can often be taken for granted.
“I was thinking how hard it would have been to have shot the first ‘Lord of the Rings,’ ” Olsen muses. “Like, you’re putting all these actors [into the frame] later and at all these different levels. All the eyelines are completely unnatural. And yet the performances are fantastic! And technically, they are so hard. People forget sometimes that these things are really technically hard to shoot. And if you are moved by their performance, that took a lot of multitasking.”
As someone who has learned plenty about harnesses, wirework, fight choreography, and green screens (she’s starred in four Marvel movies, including the box office megahit “Avengers: Endgame,” after all), Olsen knows how hard it can be to wrap one’s brain around the work needed to pull off those big, splashy scenes.
“​​If you think about it, it’s, like, the biggest stakes in the entire world—every time. And that feels silly to act over and over again, especially when people are in silly costumes and the love of your life is purple and sparkly, and every time you kiss them, you have to worry about getting it on your hands. Those things are ridiculous. You feel ridiculous. So there is a part of your brain that has to shovel that away and just look into someone’s eyeballs—and sometimes, they don’t even have eyeballs!”
The ability to spend so much time with Wanda, albeit in the guise of sitcom parodies, was a welcome opportunity for Olsen. Not only did it allow the actor to really wrestle with the traumatic backstory that has long defined the character in the MCU, but having the chance to calibrate a performance that functions on so many different levels was a thrilling challenge.
“It was such an amazing work experience,” she says. “Kathryn [Hahn] uses the word ‘profound’—which is so sweet, because it is Marvel, and people, you know, don’t think of those experiences as profound when they watch them. But it really was such a special crew that [director] Matt Shakman and [creator] Jac Schaeffer created. It was a really healthy working environment.”
Related‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance ‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance Considering that the miniseries spans several sitcom iterations, various layers of televisual reality, and a number of character reveals that needed to feel truthful and impactful in equal measure, Shakman’s decision to work closely with his actors ahead of shooting was key.
“We truly had a gorgeous amount of time together before we started filming,” Olsen remembers. “Our goal was—which is controversial in TV land—that if you wanted to change [anything], like dialogue in a scene, you had to give those notes a week before we even got there. Because sometimes you get to set, and someone had a brilliant idea while they were sleeping, and you’re like, ‘We don’t have an hour to talk about this. We have seven pages to shoot.’ And so, we were all on the same page with one another, knowing what we were shooting ahead of time.
“Matt just treated us like a troupe of actors who were about to do some regional theater shit,” she adds with a smile.
That spirit of camaraderie was, not coincidentally, at the heart of Olsen’s breakout project, Sean Durkin’s 2011 indie sensation “Martha Marcy May Marlene.” As an introduction to the process of filmmaking to a young stage-trained actor, Durkin’s quietly devastating drama was a dream—and an invaluable learning opportunity.
“It was truly just a bunch of people who loved the script, who just were doing the work. I didn’t understand lenses, so I just did the same thing all the time. I never knew if the camera would be on me or not. There was just so much purity in that experience, and you only have that once.”
The film announced Olsen as a talent to watch: a keen-eyed performer capable of deploying a stilted physicality and clipped delivery, which she used to conjure up a wounded girl learning how to shake off her time spent in a cult in upstate New York. But Olsen admits that it took her a while to figure out how to navigate her career choices afterward. In the years following “Martha,” she felt compelled to try on everything: a horror flick here, a high-profile remake there, a period piece here, an action movie there. It wasn’t until she starred in neo-Western thriller “Wind River” (alongside fellow Marvel regular Jeremy Renner) and the dark comedy “Ingrid Goes West” (opposite a deliciously deranged Aubrey Plaza) that Olsen found her groove.
“It was at that point, when I was five years into working, where I was like, Ah, I know how I want it. I know what I need from these people—from who’s involved, from producers, from directors, from the character, from the script—in order to trust that it’s going to be a fruitful experience.”
As Olsen looks back on her first decade as a working actor, she points out how far removed she is from that young girl who broke out in “Martha Marcy May Marlene.”
“I feel like a totally different person. I don’t know if everyone who’s in their early 30s feels like their early 20s self is a totally different human. But when I think about that version of myself, it feels like a long time ago; there’s a lot learned in a decade.”
Those early years were marked by a self-effacing humility that often led Olsen to defer to others when it came to key decisions about the characters she was playing. But she now feels emboldened to not only stand up for herself and her choices but for others on her sets as well.
“[Facebook Watch series] ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ I got to produce, and I really found my voice in a collaborative leadership way. And with ‘WandaVision,’ Paul [Bettany] and I really took on that feeling, as well—especially since we were introducing new characters to Marvel and wanted [those actors] to feel protected and helped,” she says. “They could ask questions and make sure they felt like they had all the things they needed because sometimes you don’t even know what you need to ask.”
It’s a lesson she learned working with filmmaker Marc Abraham on the Hank Williams biopic “I Saw the Light,” and she’s carried it with her ever since. “I really want it to feel like we’re all in this together, as a team,” Olsen says. “That was part of ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ and it was part of ‘WandaVision,’ and I hope to continue that kind of energy because those have been some of the healthiest work experiences I’ve had.”
If Olsen sounds particularly zealous about the importance of a comfortable, working set, it is because she’s well aware that therein lies an integral part of the work and the process. As an actor, she wants to feel protected and nurtured by those around her, whether she’s reacting to a telling, quiet line of dialogue about grief or donning her iconic Scarlet Witch outfit during a magic-filled mid-air action sequence.
“Sometimes you’re going to be foolish, you know? And [you need to] feel brave to be foolish. Sometimes people feel embarrassed on set and snap. But if you’re in a place where people feel like they’re allowed to be an idiot,” she says, “you’re going to feel better about being an idiot.”
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 19 issue of Backstage Magazine. Subscribe here.
Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen
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ot3tropetober · 4 years
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-So Hardison gets rich playing the stock market as a teen in Nana’s basement. Mostly because the professor at the college econ classes he’s taking for extra credit said he couldn’t.
-By the time he’s graduating highschool at 18 he is filthy rich. (WhatLikeItsHard.gif) He has paid off Nana’s medical bills and her house and went over to the college to gloat a little and decided he doesn’t actually need to go to college when he’s already, you know, doing what he does.
-But he doesn’t wanna keep taking up Nana’s basement when he has heard her having to turn down emergency placements because there’s not enough room. 
-So he moves out. Into a giant mansion, because why not. He has everything. A pool. A fancy kitchen. A shower with like 16 sprays that massage your back perfectly. A hallway with a giant fancy staircase. A whole room dedicated to his computer setup, with all the latest gadgets. A special wine fridge he stocked full of orange soda. A damn fireplace in his bathroom.
-A lot of empty rooms. And quiet. Like, creepy-quiet. Right-before-the-killer-grabs-you-in-the-hallway quiet. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he forgets there is a mirror at the end of one of the hallways. His shriek echoes through the empty house.
-He considers getting a cat for one second but remembers he’s allergic. And it would probably just startle him even more. He gets a few roombas, but even with the giant googly eyes they don’t fill the space as much as he’d hoped. So instead he places an ad online for roommates. 
-He doesn’t get nearly enough responses as he suspects. Maybe ‘come live in my mansion rent free’ gives off some major serial killer vibes. He amends his ad to a reasonable but still low enough rent that people who really need a place can apply. 
-He runs background checks on everyone who applies. He may or may not disqualify some people for petty reasons. Sorry not sorry, this is his mansion and he’s not about to share his kitchen with someone who thinks Kylo Ren is cooler than Poe Dameron, okay?
-He has some interviews, but nobody seems to click. A lot of people seem to want to make his house some kind of party-mansion. And not the fun kind of movie-marathon, D&D session, LAN Party kind of parties. One girl keeps asking him when the ‘real owner’ of the house is going to be back. 
-He’s thinking about giving up and moving back home and finding a small apartment near Nana’s house when a girl shows up in his living room.
-She does not have an interview scheduled. Hardison knows this for two reasons: one, he thinks he’d remember background checking someone as pretty as her. Two: it’s three in the morning.
-“So I heard you’re looking for roommates,” she says. A roomba nudges against her foot, and she reaches down to pat it before it turns away. “I like your pet robots.”
-It’s probably the fact that he’s been up for like 48 hours by now, but he’s like: thanks, want a tour of the house?
-Parker moves in that weekend. He helps her move in, and does not ask why she has an entire box of the exact same creepy doll whose head turns around to show an even more creepy face. He just kindly requests she keep those in her rooms, not the shared ones.
-Parker is a great roommate. Her schedule is all over the place as well, but she’s tidy, she’s funny, and she’ll hang out and watch Doctor Who with him. She also names all his roombas. He pretends not to see her dropping some fortune cookie crumbs on purpose to feed Carl the kitchen roomba when he goes by.
-Their next roommate is Eliot. He’s a veteran who’s learning how to cook at some kind of culinary school. He gets a little flustered when Hardison shows him his rooms, plural, saying he must have read the ad wrong, and is almost out the door before Hardison can convince him that yes, the price in the ad is correct, no this is not a cult, he just bought a house that was much too big and he has Regrets okay, help a brother out.
-So Eliot moves in as well. He gets a little judgy when he finds out 95% of the kitchen cupboards are empty, and the rest is filled with cereal and junkfood. He brings in more boxes of kitchenware than clothes, and Parker is delighted at poking each and every thing he unpacks.
-Eliot’s schedule is kind of the opposite of Hardison’s. He is some kind of weird morning person. They mostly run into each other when Hardison is going to bed and Eliot comes back from his morning run. He’s mostly at school or working kitchen shifts to gain more experience during the times Hardison is awake, so they mostly communicate via text.
-Parker’s the one that figures out Eliot is all bark and no bite. Or actually, all growl and no bite. Turns out, he just really hates the little buttons on his smartphone, so his texts are very short and curt. Hardison starts leaving notes on the kitchen fridge instead and that works much better. Note-Eliot is way nicer than text-Eliot.
-The great thing about Eliot is that his homework is basically… fuck around in the kitchen and make delicious things. Which he then ‘makes’ them taste. So yeah maybe Hardison kind of… switches his schedule so he’s around more and awake for Eliot Cooking Time. 
-So basically he gets roommates, and free food and it’s all great. Except for that time he accidentally ate Eliot’s sandwich. Well, he didn’t leave a note saying NOT to! It ends up with him being dragged out of bed and interrogated (Parker shining a flashlight at him and being generally Chaotic Unhelpful) until he confesses.
-The only reason Eliot doesn’t kill him probably is because he babbles about how delicious it was. Or because he’s tired of Parker shouting unrelated cop-phrases at Hardison over his shoulder.
-They come up with a system where Eliot leaves very threatening notes on the stuff he does not want them to eat. It mostly works. Besides, Parker has totally found Eliot’s weak spots (puppy eyes) and can basically make him cook them whatever.
-It’s pretty great until it starts to heat up. And both Parker and Eliot start making use of the big outdoor pool. Which is great, that’s what it’s there for. But they then wander around looking sexy and damp and near naked and Hardison is starting to get Very Inappropriate Thoughts, okay?
-Okay so maybe he also had very inappropriate thoughts before, even when Eliot was wearing like 13 layers of clothing and Parker was wearing cozy sweaters and it’s still not fair for them to wander around looking so hot.
-But he’s not about to ruin a good thing with his crushes. Besides, he’s technically their landlord, that would be weird and creepy.
-So he just… quietly pines a little. It’s cool. He still gets to hang out in the kitchen with Parker and Eliot, and force them to watch movies they have never seen that they really should (neither of them talk to him for a week because of the whole Lilo and Stitch thing).
-And maybe he notices them huddled together whispering sometimes. That’s cool. That’s fine. They can date each other if they want. (Don’t think about Eliot and Parker together, don’t, it’s too hot and you won’t be able to look them in the eye ever again, dammit Hardison).
-Until one day he wanders down into the shared living space to find the dining room table to be all decked out, a table cloth and candles and roses and everything. And Parker and Eliot look up all expectantly as he starts backpedaling that he didn’t mean to interrupt their date before Eliot growls and says ‘sit down, Hardison’. 
-The table has three place settings.
-Oh.
-It’s one hundred percent worth his foster siblings quoting a meme at him all weekend when he brings the two of them home to meet his Nana.
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heresathreebee · 3 years
Text
Wearing THAT
[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]
Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next
Word count: 3.1k words (no beta) 
Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching
AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head
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This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…
You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him. 
Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.” 
“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.” 
You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.” 
“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.” 
“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky). 
You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.” 
“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!” 
“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco. 
Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you. 
He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself. 
Or maybe not. 
“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes. 
“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.” 
“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?” 
The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high. 
“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?” 
“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.” 
“I would never!” 
“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs. 
Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it. 
“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.” 
Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly… 
“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever. 
“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!” 
~
Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?” 
“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge. 
“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”
Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.” 
“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–” 
“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now. 
Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there. 
Ok, something is definitely up with you. 
Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before. 
Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now. 
You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?” 
You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside. 
“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”
Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?” 
“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit… 
 “Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”
Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–  
~
After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore. 
Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless. 
You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?” 
“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?” 
You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him! 
Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?” 
“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.” 
Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly… 
“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?” 
Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet… 
“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.” 
Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek. 
“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…” 
You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?” 
Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?” 
You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.
Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it. 
"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed." 
You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?" 
"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight." 
He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room." 
He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets." 
There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.
Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top. 
Oh…
This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?” 
You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now." 
Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that." 
One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow. 
"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly. 
Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” 
“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?” 
“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.” 
“Do you like it?” 
“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.” 
The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.” 
… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?” 
“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.” 
Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse. 
You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast. 
“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.” 
Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…” 
“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”
AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy
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