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#Our shitshow is coming back for a movie!
thesoftboiledegg · 2 years
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What makes JKR's shitshow even harder to process is that she didn't just ruin a book series. Harry Potter was an entire subculture. Like Star Wars and Star Trek fans, Harry Potter fans dedicated their lives and careers to the series. I don't know if I'd call it "underground," but liking Harry Potter got you beaten up when I was in school, so it was more of a dedicated indie culture than a mass-appeal fanbase.
Harry Potter was so huge that fan works developed their own followings. Potter Puppet Pals racked up hundreds of thousands of followers and was nearly as relevant as the series itself. For fanfiction, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality got so big that it has a Wikipedia page. The band Harry and the Potters spawned the wizard rock music genre. A Very Potter Musical developed a fanbase and launched Darren Criss's career.
Harry Potter also has extensive ties to fandom history. Everyone in my generation (millennials) remembers coming home from school to read Harry Potter fanfiction on the Internet. Today, most people just post their stories on Wattpad or Archive of Our Own. But at the time, the fanbase was splintered between fanfiction.net and dozens of individual websites and forums, some made for specific ships. Since they all had individual hosts, a lot of those sites have been lost to time.
And there's the infamous My Immortal fanfiction, which is an Internet legend with people still searching for the author. Everybody read that one (and laughed at it) in middle school.
Pre-social media, fan sites like The Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet had massive followings because they were one of few sources for news, theories, essays and fan content. Some of these sites still exist after being around for over a decade and building their own legacy.
Before Deathly Hallows came out, fans were so desperate to know what happened that Mugglenet published a book called What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Falls in Love and How Will the Adventure Finally End? Yep...Harry Potter was so big that people wrote separate books about what would happen in an upcoming book.
And that's not mentioning all the book release parties, Harry Potter-themed events, monuments, fan films, restaurants and even a theme park. A lot of fandoms have those, but Harry Potter infiltrated every aspect of popular culture.
Today, there's a thriving culture of "Harry Potter adults" with themed weddings, baby showers and Etsy stores. Putting your Hogwarts house in your Instagram bio is pretty much a prerequisite for joining the "bookish" community. Warner still produces new content, like the Fantastic Beasts series, although we've all seen what a disaster that's been.
Everyone has at least a few memories associated with Harry Potter even if it's just watching the movies. I had great memories associated with Harry Potter. But looking back at the subculture, history and thousands of fan works, it doesn't seem fun anymore. Studying the fandom or being part of it comes with an awkward tension because you don't want to seem like you're condoning JKR's bigotry but can't divorce her from the series. This subculture was spawned by a woman who turned her legacy of magic and wonder into one of abuse and hatred.
I don't expect people to write paragraphs about how much they hate JKR every time they post about Harry Potter, but it's still uncomfortable to see people make new content or wear their Harry Potter Etsy tote bags like nothing happened. Even if they clarify that they don't support her, it's just a weird, tense situation for everybody.
People dedicated years of their lives to running Harry Potter fan sites, writing fanfiction, cosplaying characters and making fan movies. If I were in that situation, I'd have a mild identity crisis. I'd ask myself "Did I waste all those years? Should I delete my content? Where do I go from here?"
So ultimately, JKR didn't ruin "just" a book series or even "just" a fandom. She tanked an entire culture, which inspired people to look at Harry Potter more critically. The issues that people brought to the light tainted the series's legacy even without JKR's personal issues.
Once, Harry Potter was a series for generations. Now, former fans hope that the series fades into irrelevancy. Unfortunately, JKR didn't just tarnish her legacy--she took decades of history, millions of fans and a worldwide subculture along with her.
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karmavongrim · 3 months
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Dear Father fanfic idea
DC x DP crossover fanfiction
Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.
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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.
“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.
It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.
Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-
“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!
“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.
“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.
This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.
“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.
“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.
“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.
“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.
“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.
“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.
“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.
“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”
The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.
“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.
“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”
He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.
“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.
“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.
“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.
Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.
“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”
“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.
Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.
“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”
He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.
“Fucking shite!”
He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”
Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.
“Who did you call?”
He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.
“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.
“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”
Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.
“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.
The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.
“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.
“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.
Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.
“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.
Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.
“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.
He has arrived.
Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.
Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.
Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.
“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.
“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.
All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.
With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.
“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.
“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.
“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.
Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.
Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.
Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.
“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”
This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.
“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”
As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.
“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.
“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.
“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.
“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.
“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.
As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.
“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.
“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.
Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.
“H-huh, what did I miss?”
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AITA for telling my friend that her boyfriend should get a real job?
So my friend (f20) and i (f21) met two years ago through college and a few months afterwards she began seeing this guy. They had a little bit of a back and forth thing but started dating after a while. Now i’ve never been very fond of him, he’s really loud and abrasive and has no respect for anything except her it seems. He moved in with her pretty shortly after them getting together (which i also didn’t like bc it seemed very rushed) but my friend explained to me that he really couldn’t go on living in the room he had rented before bc apparently it was a total shitshow. All this has always seemed kind of untrustworthy to me bc why does she randomly pick up this guy who has no money of his own and immediately lets him move in with her? Anyways. They seem to be really happy, my friend only ever talks about him very fondly even though he literally has no manners (i came to their apartment once and he greeted me wearing nothing but an old shirt and boxers, drinking milk directly from the carton. When i told my friend about this she only laughed and said “that’s the way he is”).
Before they got together we used to have weekly nights out with our friend group but she’s been absent more often than not lately, always claiming to have “dates” with her boyfriend like girl come on you’re literally living together you don’t always have to go on dates. I’m not kidding they’re literally doing the most normal shit like taking walks in the park and watching movies but apparently it’s more important than her friends lol.
Also important for this is the boyfriend’s financial situation: he seems to come from a very poor background though i don’t know any specifics but he doesn’t have a lot of money. He has a job as an acrobat in a circus but the circus is very small and only performs around christmas time meaning: throughout the entire year he only goes to training and hangs out at home otherwise. He also obviously doesn’t make much from that.
I used to think he might be a gold digger bc my friends family is like, really rich but she told me that he didn’t even know about it until a few months into the relationship when he offered her to help with the rent (how even, he has almost no money of his own and she buys literally everything for him) and she revealed to him that she owned the apartment.
Now. This is why i might be the asshole. I didn’t think i was when it happened but the reaction of my friend made me think otherwise.
I was visiting them a few days ago and heard her boyfriend complaining about how he was sooo bored and didn’t know what to do after getting up at 12:30 pm. I couldn’t take it anymore and said “well maybe if you got a real job this wouldn’t happen” because apparently he doesn’t understand that some people actually have to work for real and don’t have girlfriends to buy them everything.
My friend didn’t hear it at the time but he must have told her because the next day she was absolutely fuming, telling me that circus acrobat was a real job and that i shouldn’t be so condescending because he’d had a really hard life and that she’d do anything to make him a little happier now. I apologized and all seems fine now but i still feel kind of bad about it because she was so angered by it.
so, AITA tumblr?
What are these acronyms?
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tgmsunmontue · 4 days
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More than movie magic... 17/?
Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN
Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
              There’s an annoying buzz and he knows it’s not his alarm, because he very carefully ensured that all four of them were turned off last night before going to the barn and meeting Bradley. It’s not stopping and he wonders if maybe Bradley has an alarm set, but Bradley’s glaring at the ground, specifically the pair of pants holding the phone that’s vibrating and he groans. They’re his pants, so it’s likely his phone ringing.
              “I just want to ignore it,” Jake mutters, letting his head thump back onto the pillow.
              “At least get it and turn it off. It’s not even seven,” Bradley says, pushing him slightly, but still kissing his shoulder and it’s clearly a promise for something if he hurries back to bed and he rolls out, reaches for his hastily discarded jeans and pulls out his phone. The front screen is lit up with the image of Karina and if she’s calling this early it’s potentially not a good thing.
              Fuck.
              “Sorry, it’s my PR manager. I better take this.”
              “You want me to go?”
              “No. No, not at all,” Jake says, giving him a quick kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed and Bradley rests his hand on his thigh, fingers running through the fine sprinkling of hair, and it wavers between ticklish and turning him on and he has to ignore it either way, thumbs over to answer the call.
              “Hello? Karina?”
              “Yeah. Hi. Morning Jake, sorry for the early call, but I left it as late as I could. Would have called earlier, but well, was trying to figure out how far the photos had spread.”
              “Photos?” Jake asks, because there aren’t any photos he can think of that would make Karina need to call him so early, and she’s in California, it’s even earlier there.
              “Yes Jake. Photos. You know, you’re meant to be one of my easy clients.”
              “What are you talking about?”
              “Photos got leaked of you dancing and kissing a guy. Now –”
              “Not just a guy. My boyfriend,” Jake says, turning to Bradley to ask the silent question with his eyebrows. The smile he gets back is all the answer he needs. “It’s fine.”
              “Oh. You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”
              “It’s like… two days old? Three I guess?” Jake asks, rubbing his eyes before dropping his hand to cover Bradley’s one, although he turns it and links their fingers together. The reassuring touch makes the tension melt out of him before it even has time to build, Bradley shifts and wraps his arms around him, legs also stretching to be either side of him and he lets himself lean back into his solid warmth.
              “Oh great. Then I’ll go for the whole invasion of privacy thing –”
              “No. No… you don’t need to do that either. My entire family were there. It was probably one of them that took photos and posted it to their Insta account or something. Just. Confirm I’m in a new relationship with someone and I’d like people to respect our privacy going forward.”
              “Okay. I can do that. Do I get a name?”
              “I don’t want his name coming out until he says it’s okay.”
              “Of course.”
              “It’s Bradley Bradshaw.”
              “Oh.”
              He’s not sure how to interpret that single word, but then she’s telling him she’ll handle it and hanging up on him and okay, so today is going to be a shitshow for her, but he’s far away from it and can probably ignore everything for a few days. He twists his head to try and meet Bradley’s eye.
              “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to get caught up in all this.”
              “Were you planning on me being a secret?”
              Jake frowns.
              “You think I dance with people like I danced with you in the hope that it’ll stay a secret?”
              “You think I let famous people dance with me like that with the expectation that it will be a secret?”
              “Yeah. Okay. Point taken. But there’s a difference between wanting to protect you from media scrutiny and keeping it a secret. You’ve met my parents. Everyone here probably thinks we’re sleeping together…”
              “We are sleeping together,” Bradley states.
              “They might think it’s only sex.”
              “Well, then they’d be wrong. Jake… they’re going to dig shit up on me. I was a child actor, my parents both died when I was young. However I was raised by two people who guarded my privacy like hawks…”
              “Two people?” Jakes asks, doing a double take.
              “Yeah. Pete and his partner…”
              “Pete Mitchell has a partner?”
              “Yep.”
              “That private huh?”
              “Yep. You’ll meet them soon enough…” Jake isn’t an idiot, knows Bradley is being deliberately vague with the pronouns, although they could just prefer those pronouns of course.
              “Jake. I knew what I was signing up for. Media circus and all. If it bothered me that much I would have said something, or simply stayed away from you. But I’m right here. And I’ve got no plans on going anywhere.”
              Something uncurls inside him, because knowing that upfront is a relief, although he knows Bradley could change his mind, or simply get over it, being the center of said media circus.
              “Also, while we’re having this conversation, they’ll dig up my net worth and all the people saying I’m a gold digger will have to shut up.”
              Jake twists further around to stare at him, because that’s surprising. Bradley just grins, presses a kiss to his shoulder and Jake keeps twisting, pushing back until Bradley is lying on the bed and he straddles him, places his hands on his shoulders and Bradley just looks up at him, smug and arrogant like he knows what he just said is going to annoy Jake and he’s done it on purpose.
              “You’re kind of an asshole.”
              “I grew up in Hollywood, when you think about that, then it’s a miracle I’m as normal as I am.”
              “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What is your net worth?”
              “I don’t know. Probably more than yours.”
              “Really now? You don’t know?”
              “Meh. I don’t care. But I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and I’ve had people managing my money very carefully for longer than you’ve been in the business.”
              “But you work…” Jake says.
              “So do you. I work because I love my job. Not because I have to. It’s why I can afford to be picky about the jobs we take.”
              “You took this one.”
              “Well. Yeah.”
              They just stare at each other for a few beats and Bradley shrugs and Jake lets out a pleased laugh and sprawls over him, kissing him and feeling like everything will be okay.
              “I’m not going to be reading the press okay? Let alone believing any of it or letting it bother me. If I have any issues with anything I’ll raise them directly with you okay?”
              “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
…           …           …
              He has to leave Jake, there are no spare clothes and his shirt is definitely not fit for wearing, so he’s going to have to walk back to the bunkhouse shirtless, which is definitely not ideal but he refuses to be embarrassed. Of course, when Rueben lets out an ear-splitting wolf whistle, drawing attention he has no choice but to flip him the finger, but Jake has people. Well. His mom. She’s bringing him a change of clothes, and Bradley might like Aunty Kaye but he is not hanging around naked in bed. He’s also not accepting the offer for her to bring him clothes either, no matter how kindly the offer was made. Especially with how Jake’s apparently sensitive all over and it looks like Bradley left no stone unturned last night. Or this morning.
              It’s still early, and while he’d have very much liked to spend the day in bed with Jake, it’s still a workday, the filming schedule tight and he’s meant to be on set in thirty minutes to oversee Rueben, Natasha and Jake carry out some corralling. He showers quickly, scrubbing himself clean and steps out to his phone ringing, toweling himself dry with one hand as he accepts the call.
              “Hey Mav.”
              “Bradley. Hi. You okay?”
              “Yeah. Of course,” he says, pulling his underwear on with one hand, swapping over hands holding the phone so he can wiggle a little.
              “Uh. Really?”
              “Yeah. Really. Why?”
              “Oh. Just. There are some photos circulating. Have you seen them?”
              “Oh. You’re ringing about those. It’s fine. I don’t need to see the photos. I was there. It’s fine. Nothing we’re hiding.”
              “Oh.”
              “Yeah. Oh indeed,” Bradley says, and he knows Mav can probably hear his smile.
              “He… he doesn’t drive you absolutely mad?”
              Bradley laughs, because Jake doesn’t drive him mad at all, drives him to distraction maybe, but not mad. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it down, continuing to get dressed.
              “Nope. Well, not in the way you’re thinking. He’s… God Pete. He’s sweet and caring and such a momma’s boy. His mom is his best friend she gives him absolute hell and he lets her.”
              “Oh. Bradley. You are gone gone…”
              “Yeah. I am gone gone,” Bradley agrees, because there is no point in denying it, and he’s pretty sure Jake already knows, and if he takes away Pete’s ammunition now he has less material to wind Bradley up with.
              “Huh. Okay then. I’ll tell Ice to cancel the job.”
              Bradley rolls his eyes.
              “Don’t say shit like that. He’s not in the mob. Tell him to reign in whatever crazy plan you’re concocting. I’m fine.”
              “Uh… well…”
              “Mav? What crazy plan are you concocting?” Bradley asks, letting out a sigh.
              “Nothing. Really. Just. We thought we’d come out for a visit.”
              “No! I’m working. You don’t need to come and visit. I’m fine.”
              “Okay. Well. How do you know it’s not a one-night stand?”
              “Because we communicate Mav. Like adults. I know it’s a foreign concept for you.”
              “Hey!”
              “Also, pretty sure Jake doesn’t make his one-night stands have dinner with his parents the day before. And I met so many of his family last night I lost track…”
              “But I haven’t met him!”
              “Maverick! Pete. You worked with him for months!”
              “I mean I haven’t met him as your… boyfriend.”
              “You’re on a plane aren’t you,” Bradley states, realizing the truth of it as he says it and okay, at least Jake might feel like Bradley’s getting the better side of the bargain once he realizes how unhinged Mav can be when it comes to him. “Tell me you’re alone.”
              “Well, there’s the pilot,” Mav says, totally deflecting and Bradley knows.
              “Mav.”
              “Well, you know how protective he gets!”
              Fuckity fuck fuck Bradley thinks internally, because it’s one thing to have Pete Mitchell as a father figure, it’s totally another to have Tom Kazansky. And he’s already alluded to Jake that Pete has a partner, although he has no idea what phase of their relationship they might currently be in, with it waxing and waning as sure as the moon, but always there even when they weren’t together. And they’re both enroute here. Because of fucking course they are, although he knows Tom is only really coming to keep Maverick inline.
EIGHTEEN
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Euclid- E.M.
Okay, I put a rush on this so I could have it out before I leave for my anniversary trip tomorrow, and I need to warn you, it is brutal. You can listen to the song I drew inspiration from here: https://youtu.be/DDdByJYUVeA
It's been months since Eddie cheated on you, and life has been hell as you try to heal. But when the chance comes, are you able to take him back?
Separate Ways (Pt. 1) - Part-Time Lover (Extra)
Masterlist
TW- 18+ Minors DNI, smut, angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of drinking, panic attacks, cursing, pining, mutual pining, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl), oral (f receiving), fingering, pnv, protected sex (Wrap before you tap, besties <3), all around shitshow of feels and lots of crying
Pairings- Eddie X Reader, Bestfriend!Robin X Reader
Word Count- 7,698
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The phone rang at least twice a day, but you didn’t pick it up. Not when you knew who would be on the other side. It’s been like this for the past couple months, and your eyes start watering of their own will every time you hear it, wishing so badly you could just throw the phone at the wall and smash it into a million pieces. Why can’t he just give it a rest? Take a hint? He should know by now that you want nothing more to do with him, not after everything he did to you. 
You still wake up smiling every few days, dreams of him on brighter days dancing across the backs of your eyelids fading into the grim reality that he forced you to see just a few months ago as you wake up alone again, and again, and again. You still touch the space in the hollow of your neck, grasping at a necklace that no longer resides there for a comfort you can never seem to find. He broke you. Eddie broke you.  
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to be married to him by now. In some parallel universe, you had graduated high school with full honors, and you had been able to make your journey back to Hawkins to spend the rest of your life with the man you loved to the ends of the earth. But not this one. In this one, you laid in agony day after day wishing that the man you loved had loved you enough to wait for you just a little longer before turning into the arms of another.  
“Sweetheart?” A sliver of light breaks through the darkness of your room as your mom opens the door. You wipe your face of stray tears and sniff back the snot threatening to drip from your nose as you sit up to talk to her. “Are you hungry? I was thinking about getting from that place you love over by the movie theater,” Your mom has been so good to you, even after all of the venom you spent on her and your dad when you were forced to move here. Now it was like a little slice of heaven on most days. You never had to worry about seeing Eddie around town. He’d be stupid to show up here, especially unannounced.  
You nod to your mom, your voice hoarse as you respond, “Yeah, that would be great mom. Thank you,” She gives you a soft smile, knowing how hard it is for you on these kinds of days. The days where you can’t seem to get him out of your head.  
“Okay, I’ll be back soon then,” She starts closing the door, but she opens it back up to say something else, “I hate to ask, sweetie, but I’m expecting a call at some point tonight from the carpet people to confirm our appointment for this weekend. Your father should be home soon, but if you hear the phone before he gets here, would you mind grabbing it?” She looks at you apologetically as the pit forms in your stomach, but you nod anyway, giving her a fake smile.  
“Yeah, I can do that, no problem,” Your fingers find dried pieces of skin to pick around one of your thumbs, and you pull one that was too fresh. You can feel the live skin pulling away and you know you’ll bleed.  
“Thank you, honey. I’ll be back soon,” She closes the door then, softly clicking the handle back into place as you’re enveloped in darkness again. You heave a heavy sigh, throwing your head back against your pillow before rubbing your down your face to hopefully wipe off some of the sleepiness from your eyes. You click the light on next to your bed and contemplate getting up. You don’t want to fall back asleep before your mom gets home with the food she kindly offered to get you. 
You sigh again as you decide to at least go to the bathroom and get something to drink, so you heave your legs over the side of your bed and slip them into your house shoes before quietly padding your way down the hallway to the bathroom, then the kitchen for a glass of water. You drink it down and refill it, taking a few more big gulps before setting it to the side and going to get plates out of the cabinet for dinner. 
As you set the table, your blood runs cold when you hear the phone ring shrilly on the opposite wall from you, nearly dropping the forks in your hand as you jolt to attention. It’s a daunting task to walk over, and so you take your time putting the forks down in a heap on the table before trudging over to the dock and gingerly picking it up. You put it to your ear and let out a quiet “Hello?” 
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s dad.” You almost cry in relief when you hear his voice over the receiver.  
“Dad, hey what’s up?” You try to calm the shaking in your voice as the adrenaline seeps from your system, but it’s no use.  
“I’m gonna be a little later getting home than I thought. I need to go by the Xerox place before they close to copy a few things. Just ask your mom to put my dinner in the microwave for me?”  
“Yeah, sure. I can do that,” 
“Okay, thanks lovebug. I’ll see you soon,”  
“Okay, love you, dad.” He hangs up the phone and you go back to your task of setting the table. Just as you finish, the phone rings again, and you walk over a little more confidently this time, your fear having subsided a bit after taking the first call.  
“Hello?” There’s no sound from the other end for a moment, and you’re thinking this might end up being an automated message when you finally hear him. 
“Y/N?” Your stomach falls down to your feet, and you waste no time slamming the phone back into its place, your hands breaking out in a cold sweat. The phone rings again right after, and you panic, torn between answering and letting it ring. But you promised your mom, and so you pick it up again, and, terrified, you hold the phone to your face. 
“Y/N, just give me five minutes, please. That’s all I ask!” Your breath trembles uncontrollably, but you find yourself more angry than sad right now. Enough is enough. 
“Eddie!” His name feels like a sweet, sweet poison falling from your tongue, “All I asked was for you to wait for me, to love me. And you couldn’t do that. So, for the love of God, just leave me the fuck alone!” You slam the phone back down, sobs starting to crack from your burning chest, hot tears spilling over your cheeks. You hide your face in your hands, trying to control your breathing and calm down enough to at least see so you can sit at the kitchen table, but it’s all too much. You let yourself fall to the floor and wrap your arms around your knees as you continue to sob, your mouth hanging open to let all the sounds trapped inside you free while you have time alone.  
Your mom finds you there, still crying loudly as she opens the door from the garage, food bag in hand before she rushes over and sits next to you, pulling your face into her chest to rock you back and forth, smoothing your hair lovingly as you fall to pieces once again. 
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That wasn’t the last call from Eddie, but it was the second to last. The next day, you came home from work to a voicemail on the machine. Normally, you would instantly delete it to try to save yourself another breakdown, but this time you listened, wanting to know what he would’ve said to you last night if you had given him the chance. “Y/N, I- I'm sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry for not being able to leave you be. I just... You’re like a ghost in my hallway, I can’t sleep without you. I see you in everything, and I can’t get you out of my mind. I love you, so much, and I know that that’s probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever said, but I can’t let you go without telling you that one last time. But if there is some, small, tiny, selfless part of you that could love me again, no, even just forgive me... Call me. Whenever you have the time,” Your finger hovers over the delete button after the machine beeps, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, the sound of his voice is like a shot of heroin, even through the slight slur no doubt due to more than a couple of drinks. 
Without him ringing your phone off the hook every day, it becomes a little easier to start forgetting him. You start to smile more, take more time to enjoy the things you used to, like riding your bike and baking with your mom. You even call Robin, who you haven’t talked to since she so kindly helped you get home after you found Eddie and Chrissy Cunningham together in her car.  
You’ve missed her terribly, and you ache to tell her everything that’s been happening with Eddie calling, and even the voicemail you kept, but you can’t bring yourself to dredge it all up. Instead, you talk about having her over soon, since school is out. You’ve let yourself develop favorite places here, and you’d love to show them to her. She wildly accepts, rapidly talking about dates that would be best for her, and soon you’ve got a trip planned for late July. 
Your calls with Robin get more frequent after, and she fills you in on everything outside of Eddie going on in Hawkins. “Steve’s starting classes at the community college in the fall. He says he’s gonna do a business major like his dad, but I think you and I both know he’s gonna end up switching before the first semester is even over. Oh, and Nancy just got an internship at a major newspaper ever since she wrote that article about those toxic fertilizers being sold all over Indiana...” You smile as she tells you everything, taking it all in as you let yourself really miss Hawkins for the first time in a while. It’s so odd now, thinking about it. You spent the first 18 years of your life there, and now it all almost feels like a dream. 
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You get your first college acceptance letter in late June, and another just a couple days later. You were always a good student, but after you left Eddie, things went really downhill those last few weeks of school. You almost didn’t even pass your finals. Thankfully, your GPA was so good that it didn’t do too much to your overall grading, but it still definitely affected your choice of schools. Washington State accepted you with a half ride scholarship, and the University of Utah accepted you with a $3000 grant to help with the tuition. You didn’t get into University of California, Irvine, but it wasn’t your first choice anyway. Your parents celebrate with you with a nice dinner out, and you think about the opportunities you would’ve lost had you gone back to Hawkins and settled for the community college there. You’ve been wanting to go into Nursing since you started high school, and with the scholarship to Washington State, it makes that dream much more real.  
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You scream in delight as Robin pulls into your driveway, having been watching out the window for the last hour expecting her arrival. You rush out the door as she parks and embrace her tightly the moment she steps out of her car. “I can’t believe you’re here!” You cry in delight, squeezing her so hard Robin feels like her eyeballs are about to explode from their sockets, not that she cares. She hugs you back with just as much force, so happy to see her best friend again.  
“I know! I’ve missed you so much! How are you?” She asks as you separate. You give a contemplative smile as you think of the right words to say. 
“Up and down, you know. But right now, I am super Up since you’re here!” You laugh, pulling her into another hug, much lighter this time now that you’ve both gotten your initial excitement out of your systems. You help her haul her bags into your house, taking her upstairs to the guest room she’ll be staying in for the next week while she’s here.  
“This is nice! Much bigger than your old house!” Robin comments, looking around the soft blue painted room.  
“Yeah, with my dad’s new job, the company he works for gave him some assistance to buy a new house out here along with the pay raise, so we got a good deal on it after everything was said and done,” You shrug. It is a nice house, you suppose. But something about it just doesn’t feel like home. It never has. 
“That’s awesome! So, what kind of fun stuff do we have planned for this week?” Robin asks as she sits on the bed. You sit next to her, doing an excited wiggle as you tell her everything. 
“So, there’s a festival going on this weekend downtown, so we’re definitely going to that. And we can hit the roller rink, go to the movies, and we have a pretty cool mall here, so we can go hang out there too! And we just got a hot tub last month, so I hope you brought a swimsuit!” Robin’s smile grows wider as you list off all of the fun things you can do, oohing and ahhing at all of the options. 
“Well,” She says, lifting her eyebrow playfully, “I definitely think we should start with the hot tub!” You laugh as she gets up, flipping her suitcase over to dig out her bikini. 
“Okay! Get changed and I’ll go get it ready for us!” You’re practically skipping down the stairs with joy when you gently close the door behind you, just so happy to have one of your favorite people back after so long. 
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As the days pass, you and Robin talk nonstop about how your lives are going, usually either walking around the mall, some icy treat in your hands, or lounging in your backyard, soaking up the sun. You’ve been getting a bit curious as to the whereabouts of Eddie and what he’s been up to, but you’re almost afraid to hear the answer. Finally, after it eats right through you, you ask as you and Robin sit on your patio, sharing a plate of watermelon, ice clinking against your glass as you take a sip of sweet tea. “So, what’s Eddie been up to?” You ask casually, trying to veil the nervousness as you bat your lashes innocently at Robin, whose face has fallen. 
“He’s...” Her face contorts, like she’s trying to find a way to put it gently. Your stomach does flips in your abdomen as you wait, as both possible answers are ones you dread. “Are you sure you want to know?” Your façade cracks, but only for a moment before you pull yourself back together and nod. It’s gonna be bad no matter how you slice it. Either he’s doing great and moved on, probably with Chrissy, or he’s doing so badly he’s drowning, just like you have been for the better part of this year. Your voice comes out more serious, and a bit sad as you let your eyes fall from Robin’s sympathetic gaze. 
“Yeah, I think I do.” You hear Robin take a gulp of air, chewing on the answer you wish she’d just spit out. 
“He’s not doing too great,” You look up at her, but she’s not looking at you anymore. She’s fidgeting with her fingers as she thinks of the right words to say. “I don’t really see much of him anymore, but Steve still does, and he says that Eddie’s been kind of wallowing in self-hatred ever since you left that day. All I know is that the last time I saw him, it looked like he hadn’t slept in days...” Your heart pounds loudly in your throat as you hang onto her every word, and your iron grip on your cup almost makes you afraid it’s going to shatter in your hands. 
“When was that? When did you see him last?” You almost sound like you’re pleading for the answer, and Robin’s eyes are soft on yours as she replies. 
“He came in to rent a movie last week.”  
So, he’s been in just as much pain as you have been, and suddenly, it all comes crashing around you. It’s like your chest is full of thick tar, burning white hot up to your throat. You chew the inside of your mouth to keep it all from coming up, and the words he spoke on his last call to you echo in your mind. “But if there is some, small, tiny, selfless part of you that could love me again, no, even just forgive me... Call me. Whenever you have the time,” 
You never told Robin about the gritty details of your Eddie induced depression, but then, it all spills out. You tell her about the incessant calling, all of the breakdowns, panic attacks, second thoughts... All of the hatred and the mind-numbing love you still felt for Eddie. All of it, up to that last call, which you let her listen to on the answering machine. You even admit to her that you listen to it at least once a week, twice if you have a really bad day. You sit with her on the couch in your living room as you let her process it all. 
“Would you ever consider taking him back?” she asks, brows knitted together in confusion. 
“No!” You assert, before your mind starts racing toward the alternative. “Maybe... I don’t know. I don’t know if I could,” Your head falls into your hands as you let out a groan that’s been locked deep inside you. “If he had just not been so fucking stupid, I wouldn’t even have to wonder,” You look back up at Robin as she listens intently to you. “But I dream about him, Robin. Even still, and I wake up so fucking happy until I remember that he’s gone,” You confess. You had even dreamt about him last night, and you remember it so vividly, like you could reach out and feel his warmth right then if you wanted to. 
“Maybe...” Robin begins gently, “Maybe it was just some stupid mistake. Maybe he was drunk when it started, and he just didn’t know how to make it stop,” You give her a look of warning, and she throws her hands up, “I’m not saying it’s a good excuse, but it could just be what happened!” She says, sighing deeply. “Look, all I will say is that I have never seen someone love someone else as much as you two loved each other. I would never tell you that one way or the other is right or wrong, but if it were me, I might have to rethink my decision—especially if it still hurt this much.” She lends a comforting hand to your knee, and you cover it with yours thankfully. “I just want you to be happy, no matter how that happens. You’re my best friend,” A small tear falls from the corner of your eye as you pull her into a tight hug, rocking gently as tears leak onto her sun warmed shoulder.  
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As summer turns to fall, your parents start mentioning a trip to Hawkins for Thanksgiving, and your stomach knots around itself every time it’s brought up. You’ve been considering going, but you also don’t know what decision you’ll come to. They would never make you go, of course, but there’s more than one reason to want to go back. Your friends, your family... Eddie.  
You’ve been so close to calling him dozens of times since Robin was there with you, her words and Eddie’s running over and over through your mind like a broken record. You even got halfway through dialing once, before getting too scared and putting the phone back down. You’ve weighed the pros and cons, gone through every possible scenario you can imagine. There’s a chance you wouldn’t even see him, but there’s also the chance that you see him and he’s with someone else now, or he’s not with someone else, but you don’t want him, or maybe you would, or maybe he wouldn’t want you anymore... 
Your mind is madness as the trip nears, and you wish more than ever that you still had the heavy metal ring on the chain around your neck to keep you grounded. You reach for it, only to find the skin bare like every other time you try. It’s like if you wish for it hard enough, one day it’ll appear again, and you’ll have that piece of Eddie back to help you through this.  
Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe the wishing and the brushing of your skin against the base of your throat has been the answer all along. If you’re wishing for Eddie so badly, why don’t you go get him? If nothing else, maybe seeing him again would provide some sort of closure for the both of you.  
Your parents are surprised at your decision to join them, but you don’t let them in on all of the reasons why, out of fear that they’d talk you out of it. You can’t keep living like this, staring at the ceiling and watching the past play over and over of a time when you were truly happy. Of when Eddie was there with you. 
The drive back to Hawkins feels like eternity as you pass through state after state of boring, flat nothingness, but as you start seeing mile signs with the town name on it, the numbers going down as you near your destination, your body starts buzzing with adrenaline. You have to keep your shaking breaths quiet as to not alarm your parents of the turmoil your body and mind are facing as you go over the details of your plan.  
When you pull into the hotel parking lot, you grab your bike out of the trunk first, wanting to have it close by after you haul your bags up to the rooms your parents have booked for the next few days. You told your parents you’re staying with Robin tonight to catch up, which isn’t a lie. You’re planning on going there, after you go to see Eddie.
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You contemplated the pros and cons of calling before showing up unannounced, and you decided that if you accidentally caught him with another woman again, you’d probably never recover, and so the week prior, while no one was home but you, you dialed the number you knew by heart, fingers shaking over the numbers. As much as you steeled yourself to hear his voice again, it was like your blood turned to lead when you heard him. 
“Hello?” You took a deep breath, your lungs refusing to calm their trembling. 
“Eddie,” You breathed, trying not to lose your resolve. 
“Y/N?” His voice was hopeful, the pained sting of hearing you after so long was evident.   
“D-do you remember that place in the park we used to meet?” A heat broke out over your face as you waited for him to respond. 
“Yeah, yeah of course, I do,” His voice was just as shaky as yours. It was only a mild comfort as you continued. 
“I’m gonna be in town next week. Meet me there next Wednesday. I think we’ll be getting in around 6 in the evening,” You took another deep breath, closing your eyes to envision the reunion. The best- and worst-case scenarios turning over in your mind like revolving doors. 
“O-okay. I’ll be there. I promise,” His voice thick, almost pleading for you to say more, just so he could hear your voice. 
“Okay. Bye, Eddie,” You hung up before he could say anything else, and you clutched a hand to your chest to try to calm your hammering heart. No backing down, now. You thought.  
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You ride your bike hard and fast to the park, scanning with your eyes over the parking lot to find Eddie’s van. You spot it, near the back, and you steel yourself to see him as you hop off before your wheels hit the gravel, walking down the trail at the edge of the tree line and off the path, walking in the memory of the countless times you met Eddie here. As you near the alcove of red, orange, yellow, brown leaves, you see him, and you stop for a moment, not knowing if you can truly bear the weight of seeing him again. But you need this, and you can tell that he does too. His back is turned to you, head in his hands. You can hear him muttering something, but you don’t know what, and so you scan the ground to see if you can find a loose twig to step on to break him out of his inner world. 
Eddie’s head snaps around with the sound of the branch, his eyes red and wet from crying. You approach slowly, and he watches you, his face filled with wonder as he sees you for the first time in 8 months. “Y-Y/N,” He greets you as you stop a few feet away from you, your bicycle still in your hands. He sticks his decorated hands in his pockets, probably to keep himself from pulling you into him, and you take a deep breath, looking everywhere but his face. “What- I mean... How have you been?” The question strikes you deep in your chest. If only he knew.  
“I’m okay, I guess,” You finally muster the strength to look at him, and his eyes say everything. They scan over your face, over your body, remembering every detail like he’s seeing a ghost. “I um, no. That’s a lie. I’m not doing okay,” You feel a thickness in your throat, and you bite it back as you try to keep your composure. “You broke me, Eddie.”  
Eddie looks away from you, then, into the trees, like he’s following the tracks of some scurrying creature in the brush. “I know,” His jaw clenches tightly, and you see his Adam’s Apple bobbing in a swallow that you can tell is pushing down a flurry of words he wishes he could say. 
“What makes it worse, though...” You begin, taking a small step toward him. Eddie’s eyes flick over to you again, his mouth quirking down as he braces himself for the venomous words he undoubtedly deserves. “What makes it worse, is that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to stop loving you,” You have to grit your teeth to get the words out clearly, and you clear your throat as you try to keep the tears at bay. Eddie’s face contorts in confusion, his soft, tired brown eyes searching yours for the explanation. 
“What?” He takes a breath, a step, just a few inches closer to you. You still can’t tell if you find it comforting or not, but the magnetism between the two of you is getting stronger. Any closer and you wouldn’t be able to let yourself leave him. “You- you still love me?” Hope fills his features, and it’s like he’s found the fountain of youth. He instantly looks refreshed and rejuvenated, just by hearing the words fall from those perfect lips of yours. 
“But I don’t know if I can forgive you,” You confess, before Eddie can take another step. “Robin told me how hurt you’ve been, and I know that it’s been hell for the both of us, but come on, Eddie! I know you know that whatever pain you’re going through, mine is so much worse. At least you knew what was going on. At least you weren’t blindsided by this- this fucking nuke that fell right on us the minute you decided to take Chrissy home that night!” You’re yelling now, your bike pushed aside into the dirt as tears fall freely from your eyes. You want so badly to step closer to him, to hit him or kiss him or a combination of both, but you keep your distance, needing your mind to stay somewhat clear as you say your piece.  
“I love you, Eddie, but goddamn it, do I fucking hate that I do! Because I remember you and you are like rain in the desert! You are every sunrise and sunset to me, and I can’t even bear to look at them anymore because they remind me of you!” You’re choking your words between sobs now, your knees getting weaker as your breathing grows more erratic. Eddie’s crying too, you can see that through the tears, and his body leans toward you, ready to catch you if you fall.  
“Please, Eddie, please just--” You let out a scream of frustration, not knowing what you want from him, or yourself. You let your knees fall to the soft, leaf covered ground, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly as you sob, tears and snot pouring down your blotchy face, not like you could bring yourself to care. Your eyes are screwed shut so tight you can’t even see the light on the other side of your eyelids, but you can hear the soft crunch of leaves, and Eddie’s warmth as he grabs you, pulling you into him as he rocks the two of you on the ground in the middle of the autumn canopy.  
You push yourself into him, feeling his hands rub your back, his lips pressed hard against the top of your head as he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry. You can hear him sniffle every once in a while as he cries with you. You finally move so that your arms wrap around him, your face finding its home in the crook of his neck, and you breathe him in. It’s so familiar, so goddamn intoxicating that you don’t ever want to let go. You stay like that for a long time, the tears wetting his t-shirt finally slowing, and then stopping, leaving only trembling limbs and breaths as you cling to each other in the darkening forest. 
“I never stopped loving you,” You hear him whisper into your hair. “Not for a single second. If I could take back every fucking thing I ever did to hurt you, I would in a fucking heartbeat. I would rather die than hurt you again. If you let me, I will spend the rest of my fucking life making sure that you’re happy, Y/N. I miss you every day, every second. I can’t sleep because I’m thinking about you, and when I finally sleep, I dream about you. You’re my everything. You are everything. I will never be able to tell you how fucking sorry I am. Please, baby, please, just give me a chance,” You can feel the warmth of his breath in your hair, his tears like rain gathering in the strands. Your hands clench around his jacket, your head shaking slowly as you try to find the words. 
“I don’t know if I can,” The sound is muffled by his chest, but he hears you, his chest shaking in a choked sob.  
“Just give me tonight, please. Let me love you tonight, and if you never want to see me again, I’ll let you go. I promise, I promise” His voice cracks on the words, repeating the phrase like a mantra, a prayer, a wish for you to say yes.  
You can’t fight the feeling, and you don’t know if you want to, but you lift your head and see Eddie’s face up close for the first time in close to a year. He looks ten years older than the last time you saw him, but he’s still so beautiful. His cheeks and eyes are pink and puffy from all of the emotion of the day, but he’s still there. The Eddie you love. You take a breath and let one of your hands touch his face, sweeping a couple of stray curls from his forehead. His eyes gaze into yours like you’re the key to the whole universe, the meaning of life itself.  
Your fingers trail across his cheekbone, down toward his jaw, across his lips. Your eyes are scanning over wherever you touch, committing every single detail to memory, because this may be the last time you’re this close to him. Your hand comes to cup his jaw, thumb brushing a stray tear from his eyes, and you lean closer, breaths shuddering as your lips gently graze his. Eddie lets you take your time, his eyes fluttering closed as you leave feather light kisses over his lips, just testing the waters. Finally, you slot your mouth against his with a little more weight, and you can feel Eddie’s face contort behind your closed eyes as he holds you even tighter to him. It’s the most dizzying kiss you’ve ever had, filled with every single thing you’ve ever wanted to say to each other. One of Eddie’s hands moves into your hair, carding through the soft strands, and the sound you make is pained and euphoric like nothing you’ve ever heard before. You feel Eddie’s tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to receive it, relishing in the taste of him as the kiss deepens, the hand not on his face wandering under his shirt to feel the warmth of his abdomen. Eddie suddenly pulls away, his eyes darkened in the fading light of twilight. His hand finds your face as he stares into you. 
“I- I can’t do this here,” He looks around at the darkening forest, crickets starting to chirp in the otherwise still night. “Let me take you home with me,” He whispers, his eyes pleading, his forehead pressing into yours as you feel his sweet breath fan over your face. You give a quick nod, biting your lip as you instantly miss the feeling of his mouth on you. 
“Okay, let’s go home,” Eddie helps you up and grabs your bike, walking it back to his van for you, your arm threaded through the crook of his elbow. It’s quiet, but the air is thick with adrenaline with wanting. When you get back to the gravel parking lot, Eddie’s van is the last vehicle there, standing alone in the new light of the moon overhead like a lighthouse guiding you. 
Eddie hoists your bike into the back of his truck with ease, shutting the double doors with a loud creak before going with you to open your door for you. You don’t let go of him until the last second, and you pull his face to yours in a chaste kiss before you let him close the door for you, running around to the other side to start the car. The chill air is starting to seep into your bones, and you’re thankful when Eddie turns the heat on as he tears out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, both of you dying to get your hands on each other again.  
The door has barely swung back into place when you and Eddie start tearing your clothes off each other, mouths pressed together, tongue and teeth starting to reacquaint themselves. Eddie presses you into the wall, your back breaking out in goosebumps as your skin hits, but they’re quickly soothed by his rough, warm hands wandering up your bare sides. You feel the vibrations as he moans into your mouth, desperate to feel you again, and can’t say you don’t feel the same. You reach for the button on his jeans when he pulls away, one hand going to grab yours as he shakes his head. “No,” He mutters, pressing warm kisses to your shoulder, up your neck, to just under your ear. “Tonight belongs to you,” He bends down, his arms scooping you up under your thighs as you let out a whimper, and he carries you like this to his bedroom, making lazy patterns on the skin of your collarbone with his lips. He practically kicks his door down, hoisting you up to get a better grip on you as he crosses the threshold before laying you down on his bed. He kneels in front of you, pressing kisses to your hips as his hands find the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling down the zipper as you writhe in need beneath him. “So beautiful,” he mutters into the skin, and you’re suddenly hit with the image of this exact scenario, but rather than you, it’s Chrissy. You feel tears threatening to slip from your eyes again at the thought, but you do everything to push them away, just needing to get through this. You need this, as much as Eddie does. Just try. Forgive him, forgive him, forgive him...  
Your underwear comes down with your pants, and you whine pathetically as you feel Eddie press hot kisses into the meat of your cold thighs, thankful to be pulled away from the disgusting thoughts infiltrating your brain. 
“E-Eddie,” You breathe. It’s so much sensation, more than you’ve felt in a long time, and you already know it won’t take you much to get you over the edge, if only the visions of Chrissy stay away. “Please, Eddie, I need you,” You sob. 
“I know baby, I know,” His lips graze over your dripping core, and his tongue takes a tentative lick, up and down, fingers digging into your hips as he lets out a pained sound. A harsh cry flies from your lips and one of your hands seeks his. “I missed this,” He whispers into you, his tongue finding a rhythm between your thighs. “I missed the fucking taste of you,” He hoists one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading you open a bit more as you grab at his hair. Your hips push into his face on their own, like they’re possessed with pure, wanton need. Eddie helps, pulling you closer with the hand not holding yours, his palm spread over your thigh, fingers pressed into the tender flesh to keep you still as he works you over. 
You don’t know how you’ll be able to take his cock, not when you’re already such a mess for him. You’ve always been sensitive, sure, but this is a whole new world. You’ve been longing for the feeling of him ever since the last time you were together, but it feels like the first time all over again, but even better. “I’m gonna let go of your hand, okay?” He glances up at you, eyes soft as you nod, letting his fingers slip from in between yours. The sounds you make come to a new point of needy and desperate as you feel him slip two fingers into your aching hole. You feel the cold metal of his rings hitting the hot skin there as he pumps in and out, fingertips curling so perfectly up into the velvet walls of your core where he knows will make you melt in his hands. You fist the sheets of his bed in your hand, hot tears slipping from the corners of your screwed-shut eyes as you let go, a white-hot bliss exploding all over your body as he sucks your clit. 
You cry Eddie’s name, a loud sob racking your chest in a crude display of raw, overwhelming emotion. You reach for him, needing him closer, needing his lips on yours so bad it hurts. When Eddie realizes, he wastes no time coming and cradling your body against his bare chest, pressing his lips hard against yours. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’m not gonna let you go,” He whispers between kisses. Your hands start struggling at the waistband of his pants, trying to push them down as tears continue leaking from the corners of your eyes. One of Eddie’s hands leaves your body only to help you push them down, and he shakes his feet out, kicking them away. “Let’s get comfy, sweet girl, I wanna take good care of you, okay?”  
You nod, still trying to catch your breath from the best orgasm of your life as you scoot back onto the center of the bed. Eddie leaves you for a moment to pull out a foil wrapper from the top drawer of his dresser, the place he always kept them, and another image flashes in your mind of when he did this for Chrissy. How many times was she here in his bed? How many times did Eddie make her cum? How many times did he cum for her?  
Your racing thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of Eddie’s lips on yours again as he kneels between your open legs. “I love you, so much,” He whimpers, one had resting above your head, the other coming to hold your face as he kisses you. But you can’t say it back, not when these images are flashing through your mind. You push them away, further than before, and try to keep your calm as you feel Eddie push into you, stretching you open as you both moan into each other. It’s been so long since you’ve had sex with anyone that it stings almost like it’s your first time, but Eddie goes slow, and soon, he has you worked open on his cock, pumping in and out of you languidly, both of you wanting to savor this feeling. Eddie gives a breath of a laugh, sweet sounds slipping through his lips as he whispers to you, “I- I don’t think I’m going to last, baby. I haven’t done this in a while. And you feel so fucking good. You’re so fucking perfect for me,”  
You wonder if he ever said that to Chrissy. You wonder, you wonder, you wonder, and soon, you can’t think of anything else. Your tears return, but now it’s not from an overwhelm of bliss, but from despair. You can’t forgive him, no matter how hard you try. You cling to him with new purpose, trying to remember every detail, every curve, every blemish, every freckle as you beg for more, wanting to feel what it’s like to unravel for him just one more time. It takes a bit longer than last time as you fight to keep your mind on the sensation, but soon, with Eddie’s sweet words and sounds filling your senses, you feel your core tensing, then fluttering around his cock, clenching tightly over and over again as you ride out your high. Eddie isn’t far behind, and soon, his hips stutter, and he lets out a whimper of your name as he cums.  
Both of you lay there together to catch your breath for a few minutes before Eddie gently pulls out of you to get you both cleaned up. Everything is white noise outside of your brain as you plan your escape. You can’t bring yourself to say it to his face. You’ll have to take the coward’s way out, even though it kills you. 
It doesn’t take long for Eddie’s breaths to even out with you wrapped in his arms, and you wait for a long time before attempting to get up, being as quiet as you possibly can to gather your clothes. As you search for your bra, you notice a chain sitting on Eddie’s dresser, the one he gave you almost a year ago, the promise ring still swinging from its center as you pick it up gently from the dresser. You can’t help but shove it in your pocket, the last piece of Eddie you’ll ever have, before going on to finish getting dressed. 
You have to inch Eddie’s bedroom door open slowly because you know it creaks, but you manage to slip through without having to open it all the way, bringing it back to gently click closed behind you. You grab your shirt from the ground in the living room, then, and go to the kitchen to find something to write on. You may be running away in the middle of the night, but he at least deserves a note explaining why. 
I’m so sorry, Eddie.  
I tried with everything I have, but I just can’t let myself be yours. Not when I can’t stop thinking about all the pretty words you said to Chrissy when it should’ve been me in your bed. I hope you can be the one to forgive me, now. I love you, and I always will. You brought me heaven tonight, for the last time. Thank you. 
You slip out the door, walking briskly toward Eddie’s truck just in case he wakes up, breath coming out in puffs of vapor, the temperature having dropped significantly since you were last outside. You try to open the back doors of Eddie’s van quietly, but it’s nearly impossible as the rust creaks and groans under the pressure. You settle on just one and struggle to haul your bike out, but you do it as quickly as you can, lip pulled between your teeth as the wheels bounce against the gravel driveway. You close the door as quietly as you opened it, which isn’t very, and you hop onto your bike, dashing away from the trailer under the cloak of night, your cheeks and nose freezing as you flee into the night. 
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Eddie keeps his word. You never see him again. 
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prodbyblush · 1 year
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Valentine’s Day with the AIB boys?😊
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ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!
・❥・requested
→ fem!reader
ARISU would attempt his hand at cooking even though all he knows is how to pour water onto his convenient store cup ramen and the trusty help of the magical microwave. Originally planning to make rolled omelette with a bowl of rice and miso soup; his attempt at flipping egg became a disaster and the supposed rolled omelette became scrambled egg. He didn't have enough ingredients for miso soup nor had rice at home and in which Arisu had to make a stop at the only place that had his back - the convenient store.
"How did you make this?" You ask him, surprised at how good the miso soup tastes. "I didn't know you could make this so well." "I bought it from the convenient store." He'd say with a big smile painted on his lips.
But hey, it's the thought that counts, remember?
After filling your stomachs with a creamy pasta and a glass of wine, both you and CHISHIYA remained seated on the dining table, decorating the round shaped chocolate cake with various fruits as toppings along with little colorful candles and edible flowers as decorations.
"Dibs on the purple edible flower" Chishiya says, snickering as he sees your facial expression.
"Fine." You say, huffing then leaning away after making the final touches. "I'm letting you off the hook because you're cute." You add, smudging your finger against the cake and onto the apple of his cheek.
"Y/N" Chishiya says, looking at you like you've made the biggest sin. "We just finished decorating the cake."
"But it's just us two eating it." You responded with a light shrug of your shoulders. "It's our cake too!"
Heaving a breath, he lets you off the hook because you're cute too.
After sending you a text message that says he couldn't come and see you on the day of hearts, NIRAGI immediately get out of work to pick up the flowers he ordered at the flower shop before surprising you at work.
"Happy valentines day. Please forgive me." He'd say, having the flowers over his face as you stood in front of him at the ground floor of the building.
For the rest of the night, Niragi will treat you like a princess. Dinner for two, hype you up on the dress of your choice, tell you how pretty you looked before walking you home.
Not the type to plan something big but LAST BOSS would elaborate the day of hearts with you by taking you out on a nice dinner date with a single red rose or sunflower. All the while seated in a table for two, heartfelt and deep conversations would arise. Thanking you that amidst his troubling adult life, he met you.
KARUBE would be clingy and affectionate, opting to stick by your side like glue. The scent of pancakes and fresh fruits wafting your nostrils as soon as you wake up. Throughout the day, he'd take you to watch a movie with him, get you that one item you've been eyeing on for a long time now, hanging out inside your favorite cafe for coffee and snacks and then ending the day by watching the sunrise.
As he drops you home, he'd give your hand a soft squeeze before giving you the sweetest kiss.
TAGS: @aikerx @retrospacealien @boowoomuu @chishiya-of-diamonds @ang3liclov3ly @kenqki @shadowheads-shitshow @lunoxxy @supercoffeeblogs @laylasbunbunny
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chvoswxtch · 7 months
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congratulations on 3k! i’m so happy for you. can i get tickets for speak now (since it’s my fave) with jess or elektra please? any kind of headcanons are appreciated
thank you so much nonnie!!
my brain immediately went to jess and I started thinking about what a lazy day would look like with her so let's talk about it
headcannon below the cut
when jess falls in love (jessica's version)
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jess rarely takes a full day off. sure she sleeps in late sometimes, or cuts out early to head to the nearest bar, but since her office is in her living room, it makes it difficult to have a work life balance when your phone is always ringing and people are constantly knocking on your door for help
which I think is partly why she's usually in a bad mood. our girl is exhausted
now jess can't say no to her partner, and they know this, so they devise a little plan
they invite jess over saturday night for a romantic little dinner, and it doesn't take much to talk her into staying the night (it doesn't take any convincing at all actually, jess would rather sleep next to her partner than alone)
the following morning, jess awakes to the alluring aroma of coffee and breakfast, and finds her partner in the kitchen with an excited smile on their face as they set their plan into motion
"get comfy, jones. you and I are having a lazy sunday."
at first jess is confused, but again, she can't say no to her partner. but her partner can see that she's thinking about all the things she has to take care of and determines that jess needs a little push
"jess, you need a day off. a whole day of doing nothing but relaxing. you deserve it, okay? you are not responsible for every person in this city. even though you can do incredible things, you're still human, and you need a break. now sit."
after breakfast, the two snuggle up on the couch for a movie marathon, and jess's partner lets her pick the first movie. although when jess puts on scream, her partner gives her a strange look to which jess comes to her own defense
"it's my comfort movie." "your comfort movie is a slasher?" "shut up, it's a classic. you said I could pick, I picked."
the two spend the day on the couch in their pjs, alternating picks for movies, indulging in various snacks and guilty pleasures, and order a large pizza to split for dinner
jess can't remember the last time she felt so at peace. she was used to everything always being a shitshow, everyone always needing something from her, but all her partner wanted from her was her presence
it made jess feel disgustingly mushy inside, but she found herself looking at her partner instead of the tv and smiling, feeling incredibly lucky to have found someone that genuinely loves her, and cares enough about her to make sure she's taking care of herself
someone to remind her that she's worthy, that she deserves a day off to relax and recharge, that's she's a good person that tries so hard to help people, and overpowers that tiny negative voice in the back of her head with constant words of affirmation
jess feels like she can breathe easier, and even though she isn't a super touchy feely person, she finds herself seeking more of her partner's touch because it makes her feel more at ease
and now that jess has experienced a lazy day with her partner for the first time, she makes it a point to have one together at least once a week if possible, and finds herself looking forward to them like a child looking forward to their birthday
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snelbz · 1 year
Text
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Fourteen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
A/N: So sorry this is late! We had some crazy storms in my area last night and today and I never got around to queuing this! Enjoy!
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Elide —
After one very fiery pep talk from Aelin, I’m gazing at myself in the bathroom mirror. This wasn’t how I expected my evening to go, nor did Lorcan, clearly. I believe him when he says he has no hand in this, but when it comes down to it, this was what used to take place when they had a get together.
It’s not his friends’ fault that this was Lorcan’s life. I just didn’t expect our home to be overrun with exactly the type of woman Lorcan wanted me to be.
It all happened so fast. One minute, Aelin and I were in the kitchen, getting more wine, when the doorbell rang. Rowan said he’d get it and we thought nothing of it.
And then I heard voices. Lots and lots of voices.
By the time Aelin and I rushed into the living room, it was full of big titted blondes and tattooed strangers making themselves comfortable wherever they could. Not to mention the long line of people already streaming out to the large back patio.
Sighing, I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into our room. At some point while I was in here, Lorcan managed to make good on his word and find Anneith. She was curled up on his pillow, fast asleep, as if the bass booming from downstairs wasn’t enough to shake the water in the bottle Lorcan had left on his nightstand.
I want to join her, want to curl up under the blankets and try to forget about everything going on downstairs but that’s unrealistic. I should find Aelin again. She would be my partner-in-chaos for the night. When I left her, she was going to talk to Rowan about not wanting to be at this shitshow of a party, but I know Rowan wouldn’t leave Lorcan in a house full of blonde bimbos and drugs, and Aelin wouldn’t leave me here to bear it alone, either.
So, I take a deep breath and open the bedroom door after telling Anneith goodnight. The music is horrible, so loud that I feel I may start bleeding out of my eardrums. I hate it. It only gets louder as I descend the stairs. I pray no one goes upstairs to defile any of our bedrooms. 
I weave my way through the crowd but I’m so fucking short that I can’t see anyone beyond those in front of me. I never cared much about being short, but right now I wish I was a good foot and a half taller.
As I enter the kitchen, I don’t see Aelin and I don’t see Lorcan. I can’t tell if I want to see Lorcan or not. I’m pissed, but not so much at him. I’m more disappointed than anything, although I can’t tell who or what I’m disappointed in. Either way, that sense of disappointing dread fills my stomach as I grab a beer off the counter and look around for a bottle opener. 
I don’t like getting drunk.
I think it’s sloppy and disgusting.
One beer won’t hurt, though. Right now I need something to take the edge off, something to keep me from crying in front of a crowd of people that I don’t know. 
After a minute of looking for the bottle opener, I curse and grab a knife out of the silverware drawer. I saw it in a movie once. Surely it can’t be that hard.
“You must be desperate if you’re willing to risk your fingers for a beer.”
I nearly jump at the voice beside me. I was too focused and the music was so damn loud that I didn’t see the gray-eyed man approach me until I had the blade of the knife against my bottlecap.
He’s right.
I must be desperate.
“Looks like someone went off with the bottle opener,” I say, and look up at him. He’s handsome enough, the crisp gray of his eyes something I feel is rare. His black hair is cut neatly, a little longer on the top than the sides, and his smile is warm as he laughs.
“Well, luckily for you, you don’t need one.” I’m about to ask what he means when he grabs my bottle and twists off the top.
I stand there, gaping and mortified. “Thanks.” He can’t hear my half-assed gratitude above the music, I’m sure, but I’m too embarrassed to care.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, common mistake. I promise not to tell anyone you were about to go full-assassin on a twist top.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s very kind.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he admits, gesturing to the kitchen around us. I know he means the party, not around my island. “Fenrys told me there was a party and I had nothing better to do, although now I feel a night at home with my dog was a better option.”
He takes a drink from his own bottle as I nod. “At least you had a choice.” 
He lifts a brow before realization dawns on him. “Oh, damn, this is your party.”
“And it’s nearing my bedtime,” I say, and he laughs. I add, “It may be my house but it’s not my party.”
His laugh is warm and he holds out a hand. “I’m Nox.”
I take it in my own. “Elide.”
Nox might be the first normal person I’ve met since getting married to Lorcan. We realize what a small world it is when we both realize we’re from Perranth, as well.
“How old are you?” He asks, leaning against the counter. “Maybe we went to high school together or something.”
I hope he doesn’t see me flinch. It’s not a story I feel like delving into. “We’d moved to Orynth by the time I was in high school.”
“Got it.” He’s nodding and I notice had a dimple beneath his five o’clock shadow. “I didn’t think there was any way we could have known each other. I wouldn’t have forgotten you anywhere.”
I think that may have been a compliment, but at the same time, probably not.
“I promise you, I’m very forgettable,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“Bullshit,” he mutters, and his lips curve upward as he takes another drink from his glass bottle. “I promise that after tonight you’ll be on my mind for a long time.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes. “That sounded so cheesy. I’m so sorry.”
My head falls back as I laugh. It’s not a forced laugh, either. I laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. “It’s okay. I like—” “Elide?”
I turn around to find my husband, his tall frame looming behind me. Although he says my name, he’s looking at Nox. He doesn’t have a drink in his hand. In fact, Lorcan’s brows are knitted together as if he’s been filled with tension all night.
“Hey,” I say, and that laughter of mine fades. Uncertainty with that underlying anger returns. Even though I've been enjoying myself with Nox, I’m still pissed at the whole situation. I still don’t belong in this environment. In Lorcan’s environment. 
“I came to talk to you,” he murmurs, but nods at Nox. “Who are you?”
There’s something in his tone that I don’t like. Something hard, his voice full of warning. 
“This is Nox,” I say, slowly, looking up at his tight jaw. “Nox, this is Lorcan.”
“Her husband,” Lorcan says, and he doesn’t even lift his hand or anything in greeting. Doesn’t even say hello. 
It doesn’t sit well with me. 
Nox’s smile falters, surely thinking the same thing. He clears his throat before taking another drink.
I look behind my shoulder at Lorcan and give him a look. He just lifts a brow, like he’s not acting like a total jackass. “Want a drink?” I ask him.
He looks shocked by my question and I suppose he should be. When we first met, the day of our wedding, I had scolded him for drinking. Right now is different, though. He looks uptight and stressed and I feel like he’s taking it out on Nox, whose company I’m enjoying the hell out of. 
“Here, man.” Nox is holding a beer out to Lorcan. “Still cold.”
Lorcan looks at the glass bottle but makes no move to take it. Instead, he grabs a plastic cup off the counter and goes to where the hard liquor sits and fills his cup. I watch him, lips pursed, wondering where the sweet, caring man I had come to know in the past weeks went. It was like he flipped a switch and I don’t know if it’s because of the party or because of Nox, but I don’t like him like this. I continue to watch as he drinks the liquor like its water. He meets my hard gaze with one of his own.
Nox clears his throat again, reminding me that I am not alone with my husband in this kitchen. “Look, if I overstepped—”
“Would you like to go for a walk?” I ask, turning to Nox. “I haven’t shown anyone all my hard-working labor when it comes to our landscaping yet. I know it’s not that exciting, but I—”
“Lead the way,” he says, laughing quietly at my rambling. “Anything to be able to get away from this obnoxious music for a minute.”
Lorcan’s jaw locks.
It’s one of their earlier songs that’s blasting through the speakers. 
I almost feel bad for walking away from Lorcan but at the same time, I don’t. There is nothing romantic going on between Nox and me and there never will be. Lorcan jumped to conclusions. He’s letting his male ego control his attitude and it makes me want to throttle him. I won’t, though, not in front of all of these people. Instead, I’ll take a walk with my new friend and he can kiss my ass. If a party is going to be thrown in my house without my consent then I should at least be able to make friends.
Right?
Lorcan’s downing the rest of the contents of his cup as we exit. I don’t feel bad. I don’t want to be around him when he’s acting jealous. Jealous. That’s what he is. He’s jealous of Nox and I don’t understand why. Sure, Nox is handsome enough, but not nearly as attractive as Lorcan, even though they’re attractive in far different ways. While Lorcan is a rugged type of handsome, a handsome that shouldn’t be handsome but is, Nox is clean-cut perfection. It has me wondering how the hell he knows the Cadre. He doesn’t look like one to fit into this crowd. 
There are people everywhere, in the house, on the front and back porch, the front drive and yard. Nox and I take a few laps around the exterior of the house, barely even looking at the landscaping I’d used as our escape out here. Sitting down on the steps of the front porch, I look over at Nox who finishes off his own beer, setting it on the step beside him.
“I’m sorry about my husband,” I say, giving Lorcan that respect. Whether he’s being an ass or not, he is my husband, even if he jumped to conclusions when he saw me talking to Nox. But he’s my husband, not my keeper. “This is all still new and he can be pretty territorial—”
“Are you the two that got married without knowing each other?” Nox asked, assessing me.
Nodding, I take a deep breath. “That’s us.”
“Huh.”
He doesn’t say anything else, so I turn to look at him. “What?”
“Makes sense why he’d be pissy.” He shrugged, looking back at the house as if he’s expecting Lorcan to come out the front door searching for him. “I’d be wary of someone I don’t know talking to my wife, too.”
“How’d you end up here?” I finally ask, curiosity finally getting the better of me.
“I sell to Fenrys and Connall.”
I blink, sure I have to be misunderstanding him. “And by sell you mean…?”
Nox laughs, shaking his head. “Drugs. Pills mostly, to Fen. Connall almost exclusively smokes weed.”
That was literally the last thing I expected and I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it. “You’re a drug dealer?”
“That’s not the profession I put on my taxes, but yeah,” he laughs.
This truly is a world I’m not used to, if the most clean cut, normal looking guy here sells drugs to the rock stars.
“Nox, hey!”
As if on cue, a couple guys approach and I take the chance to find Lorcan as money exchanges hands and he takes off a backpack I hadn’t noticed he was wearing.
It’s been a while since we left him in the kitchen, but I check anyway. He, and his bottle of liquor, are gone.
With a sigh, I search the house. Once again, my height puts me at a disadvantage. I don’t find him anywhere, although I do see far more than I want to. The number of tits I glimpse when walking from one side of my house to the other is astounding. A line of white powder is on my new coffee table and a guy with face tattoos is snorting it. The music is still loud as hell and empty glasses and cups are everywhere. Bodies are pressed up against one another on the dancefloor and I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s coming awfully close to an orgy. 
I still haven’t found Aelin, either. I make a note to text her once I find my damn husband. 
After placing my half-empty beer on the counter, I make my way out onto the back porch and I’m suddenly filled with so much anger that my body is shaking.
I found my husband.
He’s in the hot tub in nothing but his boxer-briefs but he’s not alone. There’s about ten women cluttered together, surrounding him, in nothing but their bras and panties. 
His earlier words come back to me about the hot tub being our place, and there’s a burning in my eyes.
He notices me and grins. “There’s my smoking hot wife!” He points at me, and all of the girls he’s with look at me. “Hey, baby! Why don’t you come meet my friends?”
He knows exactly what he’s doing. It seems to him that this is some sort of game and I suddenly feel foolish for trying to make a point with Nox. I went away with my friend, so he went away with his. He’s not touching them. His hands are together on his lap, but I can tell he’s drunk. I wonder how much liquor he had after we parted. His eyelids droop and his body is swaying, just a little bit. 
My jaw locks and I beg myself not to cry. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He laughs and the girls around him have no shame. They know that their racks are on full display and they’re basically tossing their breasts at him. A thought hits me that makes me sick: how many of these girls does he know? How many of these girls have shared his bed? 
Jealousy. I feel it now too and it’s an ugly bitch. 
“We don’t want to be rude,” Lorcan says, eyes bright as his words slur. “I can’t just leave my friends. Can they come, too?”
My cheeks heat as the girls around him giggle. One reaches out to brush her fingertips along his shoulder and even though he moves away from her touch, I want to throttle her. 
“You’ve made your point,” I say, through gritted teeth. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“This is your wife?” one of the girls asks, laughing as she bobs in the water, bouncing her massive breasts. “She’s so…tiny.”
“Why don’t you come join us?” another one asks, looking up at me. Her high-pitched voice annoys me. “We promise to help you have a good time. Strip down. It feels so good.”
“Yeah, baby, strip down,” Lorcan croons, taking another gulp from his plastic cup.
I’m not playing this game with him. I’m not going to let him taunt me with these women, with his drunkenness. This is a side of Lorcan I haven’t seen yet. At first, his jealousy of Nox was frustrating, yes, but it was also endearing. Jealousy isn’t always automatically a bad thing. If he’s jealous, it means he cares.
I’m not going to consider what that means about my own jealous feelings.
I see the change in his eyes the second he realizes I’m not going to play back.
“Goodnight, Lorcan,” I say, and look around the hot tub at his friends. “You ladies have fun.”
Without another word, I walk back into the house, not looking back at my husband.
When I unlock our bedroom door, Anneith is still asleep, curled up on the comforter. I can’t resist giving her a scratch under the chin and she stretches adorably without waking.
I’m in the bathroom, changing out of my uncomfortable jeans and into shorts, when I hear our bedroom door bang open. 
I know who it is so I don’t panic. Instead, I take my sweet time. I brush my hair for the hell of it before taking a few minutes to pick out another tank top that’s less form fitting and putting it on. Then, when I finally open the door, my husband is standing there in his wet underwear.
And gods, those boxer-briefs do good things to him.
I swallow as I fight to meet his eye but he’s swaying on his feet, too drunk to notice.
“H-hi,” he says, then holds onto the doorframe to help keep his balance. 
My brow shoots up as I cross my arms. “Hi?”
He leans in close to me. “It’s what you say to someone before you start a conversation.” 
The need to rub my temples is overwhelming. “Why are you here?”
He blinks, looking around the room in confusion. “Don’t we live here?”
The look on his face is adorably ridiculous, but I’m pissed so I don’t laugh, no matter how much I want to. I try again. “Why aren’t you downstairs with your friends?” 
“Ohhh,” he says, and takes a step back. “Them. Yeah, I left them to do their thing.” He leans in close to me and his breath smells like the inside of a whiskey bottle. “After a while, they get a little handsy and I wanted nothing to do with that.”
Well, that’s comforting…even though his words are slurred. “Lorcan—”
“You left,” he says, and he’s frowning. “You walked away from me.”
I scoff. “You didn’t seem to be too lonely!”
He rolls his eyes in dramatic drunkenness. “Those girls…” he shakes his head, long hair swaying. I wonder when he took it down. “They mean nothing to me. I lied. They’re not my friends. They disgust me.”
I hesitate as I remember that drunk people are prone to telling the truth. I’m still pissed, though. “I don’t like you like this. I didn’t like seeing you like that, and I didn’t like that stupid stunt you were trying to pull.”
His brows shoot up and he stumbles back to the point where he nearly falls over. “The stunt I was trying to pull? Nox, will you take a walk with me, outside at night, in the dark, just the two of us?” 
I laugh but there’s no humor in it. “Are you mocking me?”
“You started this game,” he says, and pokes me in the chest with his pointer finger. His touch sends a chills through me even though there’s nothing even remotely sexual going on here.
“Game?” My voice is higher pitched than I’ve ever heard it, but to hear him actually refer to whatever bullshit has been going down between us as a game sets me off.
Before I can say anything else though, Lorcan holds up a hand, making me pause. If he were just telling me to stop talking, I would have lost it, but he turned towards the door, stopping to strip out of his wet underwear and pull a pair of sweats on. I don’t even have time to look away before I get a glimpse of his sculpted ass—of course he has defined muscles on his ass—before it’s covered by grey cotton, and he’s out in the hallway.
I’m livid that he had the nerve to walk out on me, right after getting mad at me for walking away from him outside, but then the music suddenly stops. There’s a flurry of outraged voices, but then one voice rises above the rest. “If you don’t live here, get the fuck out.” It’s quiet for a few seconds before he adds, “Now.”
Hundreds of footsteps hurry over our threshold and while I wait for the crowd to clear out, I check my phone that I’d forgotten on the nightstand hours ago. I have two texts from Aelin, one from two hours ago, letting me know they were leaving since she couldn’t find me and Lorcan was getting drunk, and a second about thirty minutes ago, telling me they’d made it home.
I type out a quick text to her, letting her know Lorcan is kicking everyone out and we’ll talk tomorrow. I don’t have the emotional aptitude to deal with my best friend tonight. I know she’s pissed, but just like me, she doesn’t seem to know where to place the blame, which means she’ll just want to vent.
Lorcan comes back in and shuts the door behind him, although a little too forcefully. I jump at the sound before crossing my arms.
“Happy?” He asks, striding past me into the bathroom. He braces both hands on the sink and for a second I think he’s going to puke, but he doesn’t.
“Happy?” I repeat, incredulous. “What about any of this would make you think I’m happy?”
“The house is empty!” He throws his hands in the air and faces me.
“Yeah, and trashed!” I add. “Your sorry ass better be cleaning it up tomorrow. Ask Fenrys to join you, considering he was the apparent mastermind here.”
I’m not even mad about the party anymore, not really. Now it’s just him that’s pissing me off, even though I can’t take my eyes off of his broad, bare chest in front of me.
Lorcan snorts and takes a step closer to me. “You’re just upset I kicked out your friend.”
My mouth falls open and I have half a mind to cross the distance between us and slap him. “You’re an ass,” I snap, instead.
His eyes light up. “Maybe, but at least I speak the fucking truth.” 
This time, I do step forward but he doesn’t move. I go to shove his chest but his hands grip my wrists and suddenly I’m in his hold. He’s not rough, he’s simply stopping me from pushing him, not that it would do anything. It would be like shoving a brick wall. 
From the second his hands are on me, though, I can’t breathe. Even drunk, he’s hot as hell. 
“I won’t apologize for talking to someone,” I say, voice quiet but firm. “You’re my husband, not my owner. You should have a little faith in me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he says, and his grip on my wrists tightens. He pulls me closer and I wonder if he’s even aware of what he’s doing. “It was that prick. I don’t like the way he looked at you.”
I exhale through my nose, the short burst of air sounding like a laugh. “He wasn’t looking—”
“He was looking at you like he was starving and you were his last meal.” Lorcan’s intense gaze left little room for response. Damn it, isn’t he supposed to be drunk? “And, yes, it pissed me off cause you were smiling at him. You were smiling at him and—” He shakes his head. “Nevermind.”
He releases my wrists, but doesn’t step back. “And what?”
“Nothing.” It’s so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
“It’s not nothing,” I push, touching his chest, gently resting a hand over the inked flesh. “Tell me.”
He won’t look at me, instead he’s found something on the bathroom wall that’s clearly much more interesting. “You were smiling at him and you two looked like you belonged together.”
“What?” I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that hadn’t been it. “What do you mean?”
He laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “He was what you asked for on your application. To a T.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “He is not.”
“Fancy ass haircut, neat beard, preppy clothes, not tattoos?” Lorcan rolls his eyes. “I’m sure the accounting office he works for loves him.”
I cross my arms over my chest and my elbow skims over his bare abdomen. “He’s a drug dealer.”
Lorcan’s entire body goes still before he asks, “What?”
“He’s Fenrys and Connall’s dealer,” I say, and watch as his drunk brain tries to comprehend what I’m saying. 
Lorcan’s mouth opens and then closes. “Well, shit.”
I scoff, rubbing my temples. “So you’re telling me that you got drunk off your ass and into a hot tub, in nothing but your underwear, with a bunch of nearly nude women because you thought that I wanted Nox instead of you, because of what I put on my application?” The words rush out of me, a whole new anger taking its place. “Even though our time together has been nothing less than amazing?”
He cringes and hesitates. “I—”
“And instead of talking to me about it, you decided to handle it like a damn, territorial brute—”
“You went off with him just to prove a point!” He yells, and I suppose I did, which makes me hesitate now. 
“That’s not the point!” I snap. 
“Yes, it is!” He jabs, and we’re so close that it’s almost comical because I’m looking up at him while he stares down at me, a good foot and a half separating our faces. “You went off with him even though you knew I didn’t like it.”
“But you had no reason not to like it!” I challenge, running a hand through my hair. “Nothing was ever going to happen—”
He shuts me up by grabbing my face and kissing me, ruthlessly. It’s sloppy and it’s brutal and his tongue is coated in whiskey. Yet, I melt into it, every thought vanishing from my head. He bites my bottom lip and I gasp, my fingers digging into his sides as my anger fades into nothingness. 
He’s drunk, but as I said, drunk people tell the truth and this kiss is no exception. If Nox was looking at me earlier like he was starving, his hunger hadn’t even come close in comparison to Lorcan’s right now.
His hands find the back of my thighs, lifting me up and setting me on the bathroom counter behind us. My hands have found a home in his messy, tangled hair and I’ve never been more attracted to long hair than I am right now. The loose strands are tickling my face as he leans down, but they don’t bother me like I would have thought they would. Instead, they heighten every feeling as they brush against my face, my neck, my shoulders.
One of his hands is pressed to the small of my back, pulling me tight against his body. I can feel every hard inch of him as he kisses me. His other hand weaves into my hair and he cups the back of my head as he grinds his hard cock into me.
I fight off a moan, knowing if I let him right now, he’d prove to me exactly why he’s the obvious choice to be my husband. I know he’d bring a whole new meaning hot, angry sex, but he’s drunk.
He’s drunk and I’m still kind of pissed, no matter how turned on I am.
But I don’t stop him just yet.
He doesn’t push me to go any further, even though I’m tempted to yank down his sweats and take him into my hands. I keep my hands in his hair, though, keep brushing my tongue along his as I imagine what sex with him would be like.
I’m getting closer to that point of letting him have me, even with the events of tonight. I don’t love him, not yet, but I care for him and I do want to have a successful marriage. We’ll be sober for that, though. Sober, so he can remember every damn second.
When that kiss breaks, we’re breathing heavily. His forehead is against mine and my fingers are still wrapped in the strands of his hair. I glance down, unable to stop myself, and see just how ready for me he is. He’s not wearing underwear. There’s nothing to help hold down his thick, lengthy cock. I have to close my eyes to keep myself in check. Gods, what he’s going to feel like inside of me… The thought alone has me throbbing between my thighs.
Lorcan kisses me softly one more time before he whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Two simple words but they have my chest feeling a million times lighter.
“I was an ass,” he goes on, and even though those words are still slurred, I know he means them. “Again.”
I don’t bother telling him it’s true. He knows well enough. 
“I want to be the man you want,” he confesses, and I wonder if I never say a word just how much he’ll confess. “I want to be the husband you deserve. I want to be everything you want and need.”
I want that, too, more than anything, but this isn’t a conversation we need to have while he’s been drinking. So I don’t say anything.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his waist, letting my head rest against his chest. His arms come around me and I close my eyes as I listen to his heartbeat. As the minutes tick by, the beats slow and it’s not nearly as frantic as it was before.
I don’t know how long we stay like that before we pull apart, Lorcan’s hand coming up to frame my face.
He opens his mouth to say something, but a massive bang from downstairs has him rushing out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the hall. I’m right behind him, shocked at the audacity that someone would have stayed after he kicked everyone out.
I’ve made it to the second floor landing where I can see the living room below while Lorcan’s long legs have already brought him downstairs where he’s in the living room, looking at one of his big, pricey speakers that had fallen.
Fenrys, Connall, Gavriel, and Vaughan are all standing near it. One of the twins has a trash bag and the other has at least ten beer bottles in his arms. The two latter are looking at the speaker, scratching their heads. I blink as realization dawns on me. They’re cleaning up. 
Drunk, apparently, judging from their hazy eyes and the fact that they’re knocking shit over. Gavriel is the only one that doesn’t look completely wasted. 
I can hear the exhaustion in Lorcan’s voice, his alcohol-high wearing off, as he asks, “The fuck are you doing? I thought I kicked everyone out.”
Fenrys has some balls as he looks offended. “We didn’t think that included us.”
“We’re trying to clean up,” Gavriel says, and I know why they call him the voice of reason, the mature one. I can tell from his tone and calm demeanor. “After talking with those two—” he gestures to the twins, “—now all of us know that this wasn’t quite the night you were envisioning.”
Fenrys and Connall look like they’re being scolded by a parent. It makes me chuckle.
Five sets of eyes shoot in my direction. Apparently none of them knew I was here.
Gavriel gives me a chagrined smile. “We’ll clean up and be on our way.”
I shake my head as I descend the staircase. “Don’t drive. You’ll stay here tonight. We have plenty of space.”
Lorcan looks surprised by my offer. 
I shrug. “Only dumbasses drive drunk and I hope they’re smarter than that.”
Gavriel could probably drive just fine, but he doesn’t need to deal with the others, especially the twins, while they’re intoxicated. 
They continue to clean the living room, the kitchen, and the back porch while Gavriel and I supervise. Lorcan joins them, picking up used bottles and gods know what else and I have to admit that it’s hilarious.
Rockstars.
Cleaning.
As they clean, I get to know Gavriel. Lorcan told me that his fiance had passed away and every time he mentions her, his eyes light up. He seems kind and genuine, and I couldn’t imagine losing someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with. He didn’t deserve for that to happen to him. He tells me how music and the Cadre got him through it, and are helping him through that loss still.
It makes me have a new appreciation for Lorcan’s band. Yeah, they’re rowdy and live a lifestyle that I don’t agree with, but they’re also a family. 
Speaking of that family, they’re all a mess, with the exception of Vaughan. Vaughan just seems tired, but Fenrys has gotten sick twice now. There’s no telling what had gone into his system tonight. Connall just seems sad now that his high has worn off, and as for my husband…
I watch Lorcan grow more sober - and nauseous - by the second. With each minute that his liquor wears off, his face grows greener.
“Get him upstairs,” Gavriel says, inclining his head in Lorcan’s direction. “We’ll handle the rest and lock up before we go to bed.”
I’m already moving towards Lorcan, very willing to take Gavriel up on that. I need to get him in bed while he still has the capability of doing so. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, go.” Gavriel is moving out of the way, and by the look on his face, it’s a toss up whether Lorcan will throw up or not.
Wrapping my arm around his waist, we head back for the stairs, everyone saying their goodnights.
Halfway up the stairs, I look up at Lorcan, finding his eyes already on me. I smirk. “Was getting drunk with your friends still worth it?”
“No,” he murmurs as we enter our room. I take him straight to the bed and help him lay down. “They were annoying and way too handsy.”
I get a towel and lay it on the floor by his head, just in case, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Using my fingers, I brush his hair back off his face. His eyes fall closed and he looks like he could fall asleep any second. I remind him, “You used to like that.”
“Yeah, but now I like you.”
His words are so blunt, I wonder if he even meant to say them aloud. It’s the closest he’s come to saying he actually has feelings for me, but I don’t know if he means it the same way I do.
His eyes stay closed and after a few minutes, his breathing evens out and I know he’s fast asleep. I can still hear the rest of the guys downstairs, so after finishing getting ready for bed, I shut the bedroom door and flip off the light.
At some point, Anni had hopped back onto the bed and is asleep on Lorcan’s pillow. I roll my eyes before climbing into bed myself.
Before I can even finish settling, Lorcan’s arms have wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest.
I like being against his chest. It makes me feel not only comfortable, but safe. It makes me feel cared for. With the steady beating of his heart against my back, I finally relax enough to shut my eyes and start to fall asleep.
As I dream, his words repeat in my mind over and over again.
But now I like you.
But now I like you. 
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doberbutts · 1 year
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Hope this isn't a weird thing to say but thank you for articulating your feelings on the "why would trans men want to be cis" ask, since mine are similar, and I've been feeling a bit alienated by how commonplace it became to either be bewildered by or outright mock trans guys who have a less positive and more stereotypical experience. It's been making me feel extremely lonely and kind of guilty. So it's nice to see someone express some things I'm scared of talking about.
Honestly I really don't know what's happened to trans social media. It's always been a bit of a shitshow and a train wreck but it just seems like nowadays we're so disconnected across generations rather than weaving our interconnected lives together and recognizing that with changing attitudes and culture comes generational changed approaches to trans-ness.
The trans woman who mentored me had such a compelling story, that nowadays I feel if she had her story played out as a movie people would consider her very character transphobic and transmisogynistic. But she's real, that's her life, her past and her present and her future, and she existed during a time that many my age can barely remember and those younger than us can barely comprehend. That was just how trans people existed back then.
And I personally harp on this every pride with my own experience. It took me until 2014 for me to see a trans man in mainstream media. I could go and deliberately seek out LGBT media and find one, sure, but just out there in the wild on a game that I'd bought? On a wildly popular franchise that most people had at least heard of if not played? Seeing him explain who and what he was, was amazing to me. I wish it'd come before I turned 22.
We still have a long way to go, but now there's nonbinary characters on cartoon network and lesbian weddings and gay kisses on nick. Disney announced their first homosexual couple scene or character every couple of months. I accepted, when I decided I wanted to transition, that once I changed my gender marker that I wouldn't be able to get married. Now I can, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, because I'd made my peace with marriage being a probable impossibility.
My mentor wrote a letter for me that I will never need, to prove that I really am transgender. Instead I walk into a gender clinic and walk out with a new testosterone prescription and a 6-month 12-month plan for top surgery and a hysto.
Transitioning means something different to me than it does to people only a few years younger. To some of them, my life, my perception, my reality is transphobic and misogynistic. I've been told that to my face. I've been blocked over it. I've been harassed over it.
But it doesn't change anything. I'm a binary trans guy who wishes he was cis, who if I thought I could go stealth and actually succeed I would in a heartbeat, and I'm only open about it because I don't think it's possible for me to not be. None of that is shameful. That's just what being transgender looks like to me.
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attackmybutt · 5 months
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Looking for an RP partner
So... lately I have been having an itch to write/RP... it's been years since I last wrote anything substantial... but I want to hop back onto the "bicycle" so to speak, so here's to some self advertising and info about myself.
Before you proceed, keep in mind I'm 29NB and any future partners willing to RP with me MUST be 21+. I would prefer it if they were 25+ as it would mean they are closer to my age, but I'm not going to be nit picky about the age range as long as they are 21 years old.
I have some RP experience both in tumblr and discord, but as I previously stated, it's been years. I also written a fic here and there, years ago.
My replies tend to vary from one liner sentences to multiple paragraphs in one go or in-between depending on my creative juices. You don't need to match my length (if I get crazy and reply you in one too many multiple paragraphs) if the creative juices aren't flowing.
I am looking for a casual partner, someone who feels comfortable with me and vice versa. Someone who wants to have fin with me and making up stories for our favorite characters/ships.
Also very important for me, communication is key. Specially before starting a RP and during. We have to know each other's squicks, hard no's and anything that could be potentially triggering to either one of us.
I am very open minded and I am willing to RP almost anything for example: smut, GL, BL, HET, dark stuff, violence, gore, bdsm, a/b/o, mpreg/fpreg....etc. Thinking about it, I might just RP about anything as long as it's talked to beforehand, there might be some instances where I might say no, depending on the characters and the story being written. (I'm saying like if the situations call for it I might bre willing to write vore, which I personally don't like)
I shall only RP in discord and discord only. It's easier and cleaner. I ain't going back to tumbr RPing, unless I get begged to go back to that mess. I don't wan't create a character tumblr blog ever again, or do I?
I am an ever loving multi-shipper and love many ships, however I do have my OTPs.
I don't mind doing RP with OCs, whether they be OC x OC, or MC x OC. I do have some OCs that live mostly in my head. (I might share them one day to the world, maybe, maybe not.)
And now... it is time to put down the list of some of the fandoms I am willing to RP and the characters (muses) I am comfortable to RP as and some of the ships that go with it. (Bold means I feel way more comfortable than usual writing for the character, don't know why, some characters just sing to my soul I guess?) Regardless, I'll RP as anyone and I'll do any ships, unless they are a NOTP. This is just a sample list, if you decide to RP with me, we can talk more in depth about it.
Jujutsu Kaisen -I am all caught up with the manga- (muses: Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji, Nanami Kento, Zenin Maki, Todo Aoi) (Ships: Any/Yuuji, Maki/Nobara, Satoru/Suguru, Nanami/Vacation, etc...)
Chainsaw Man -I am all caught up with the manga- (muses: Denji, Power) (ships: any/any)
Gintama -I am feeling nostalgic- (muses: Shimura Shinpachi, Sakata Gintoki, Kondo Isao, Okita Sougo) (ships: ginshin, kondo/okita, hijikata/okita...etc)
Dragon Ball (muses: Son Goku, Vegeta, Bulma..etc) (ships: any)
Demon Slayer (muses: Kamado Tanjiro, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Rengoku Kyojuro, Uzui Tengen) (ships: any)
Uh... those are the ones that are coming up with some character preference... Here's another list of other fandoms I am in and are willing to RP. It is mixed media, not only anime like the above list.
Daimond no Acce
A Song of Ice and Fire (that includes the shitshow that GoT became)
House of the Dragon
SuperBat (yes, just the ship. I am familiar with DC to some degree, movies, some cartoons -Justice League-)
Marvel (I'm stuck in stucky, but I am more comfortable with Marvel than I am with DC)
Naruto (No Boruto anything.)
Bleach
Fate Series
JoJo
Eyeshield21
...and more... just ask and I shall let you know. If you decide we would be a good RP, just sent me a message here in tumblr or an ask. (and pray I actually see it cause I'm bad with that kind of stuff)
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the-pen-pot · 1 year
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When he was a kid, Stiles had wasted hours of his life daydreaming about vampires and magic and things that went bump in the night. Even after his mom died and it was just him and his dad, the two of them looking out for each other as best they could, he had got lost inside his own head more often than not. Even the Adderall didn't do much to tame them. It was only when Scott got bit and all the crap he'd thought belonged in movies turned out to be real that things went the other way.
Now, he wistfully imagined staying in bed late at the weekends. He longed for the days when he did not need an intricate knowledge of how to get a shit-ton of blood out of his jeans, and when the jeep breaking down was an inconvenience rather than a matter of life or death. Like now.
'Come on!' he hissed, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror as he turned the key and listened to the engine choke and die. It was stupid. He was stupid. He knew better than to go out in the Preserve by himself. Honestly, all he had wanted was five minutes away from the latest Scott and Allison drama. Now he was probably going to turn up dead, and Scott wouldn't notice he was missing because he was too busy staring at Allison's eyes and mouth and other... assets.
He didn't even know what it was. He'd not had time to see more than a flash of very big teeth before taking off like a rabbit chased by a coyote. All he had now were his shrieking instincts letting him know he was being stalked by something that lingered in the undergrowth, probably trying to figure out how to extract him from his crappy tin-can of a car before chowing down on his delicious, tender flesh.
Absently, he patted Roscoe's steering wheel, apologizing for his thoughts even as he continued to swear under his breath. He needed to pop the hood and hit the engine with something to get it going, but if he did that then whatever was out there was going to get him.
In theory, he could call for help, but in practice...? Yeah, he was not about to hold his breath. Scott hung up on him nine times out of ten, and Derek probably wouldn't answer a call from him out of principle, or something. It wasn't like they were friends or anything. There was always the cops, but that would just bring his dad running, and the longer he could keep the truth of this whole shitshow under wraps, the better.
So, he could either sit here and hope whatever was out there got bored, or risk it and pray it didn't eat him before he could fix his jeep and get the hell out of dodge.
Drumming a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel, he reached into the backseat for his baseball bat, feeling its solid weight in his grip. A quick look through the rear windshield revealed nothing: just trees and shadows and the sickle of a moon hung precariously in a black winter sky.
Cranking the lever on the dash to pop the hood, he reached out, easing the handle of the door and wincing as the old mechanism clunked like an airlock. He held his breath, half-expecting a roar of triumph.
Silence. Not even the wind stirred the half-dressed branches of the trees. In fact, it was completely still, and Stiles wet his lips before easing himself out of Roscoe's safe confines.
'Oh God,' he breathed. 'I'm gunna die.'
He waited, braced to leap back into the jeep and slam the door behind him, but nothing pounced out of the shadows. If he were some ditz in a horror movie, he would decide that meant it was safe – that he'd somehow imagined the monster hot on his heels as he half-ran, half-fell through the Preserve, but he wasn't an idiot. It was probably just biding its time, and he swallowed hard before darting around the hood and getting to work, every sense on high alert for the thing he knew was still out there somewhere.
'What are you doing?'
If anyone ever asked, Stiles would tell them his yell of surprise was very manly and not at all shrill. He would also say he managed to at least bean Derek over the head with the bat, rather than swinging wide and missing when the asshole stepped back out of reach.
'Fuck shit,' he wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest and bending over so he could try and breathe. 'Where did you come from?'
Derek raised one eyebrow, folding his arms so that leather jacket of his strained across his shoulders, so much broader now that he was Alpha of his own little pack. 'I could hear your heartbeat from a mile away: fast, like a rabbit.'
'Yeah.' Stiles narrowed his eyes. 'Because that's not creepy or anything.' He glanced back over his shoulder, scanning the trees again. 'There was something out there. Jeep wouldn't start. Did you scare it off?'
'No. Where's Scott?'
'How am I meant to know?'
'He should be with you. Even you're not stupid enough to come out here on your own.'
Stiles pursed his lips, not bothering to answer that. 'I'm fine. See?' He tottered back around to the driver's door on shaky legs and turned the key, breathing a sigh of relief as Roscoe purred obligingly to life. He flicked on the headlights, smirking as Derek shielded his eyes from their flare. It died a moment later when he noticed the fresh red charting the lines of his palms: blood. 'Didn't scare it off, huh? Did you kill it instead?'
Derek's nostrils flared in annoyance, and Stiles ducked out of the car, stepping in front of the headlight beam as he snatched Derek's right hand. Red painted his cuticles too, as if he'd shoved his claws into something's chest, and Stiles wondered if he went over to the bushes whether he would stumble across something's carcass. There was no point checking Derek for injuries. Any wounds would have healed by now. Freaky Werewolf.
'What was it?'
'Nothing.' Derek rolled his eyes as Stiles cocked his head. 'Doesn't matter. I dealt with it. Now go.'
'I wanna see –' Stiles sucked in a breath as he found himself pinned against the hood of his car, Derek's broad frame trapping him against the metal. He could smell the fresh air and the faint tang of sweat on Derek's skin, and he had to admit that maybe his daydreams weren't just about getting a good night's sleep. If he was honest, Derek had a starring role in far too many of his fantasies for this to be a comfortable situation for anyone.
'You don't need to see,' Derek growled, and if he could smell Stiles' arousal, he was pointedly ignoring it. 'It's gone. Dealt with.'
'I want to know what it was!'
'Stiles...'
A delicate shiver marched down his spine as Derek's growl hit that particular pitch. Back when all this werewolf shit had hit the fan, Stiles had told himself it was fear.
It really, really wasn't.
'Was it going to eat me?' He swallowed, trying to focus his mind on gore and death rather than heat and muscles. The jeep was a solid wall behind his back, and every time he drew a breath his chest brushed against Derek's.
Are you going to eat me? His brain hysterically added, and he bit his lip hard so that the words didn't escape.
'Probably. Now go home.'
A hint of red glowed in Derek's eyes, unmissable, and Stiles reached out, pressing his palm over Derek's heart and easing him back so he had room to breathe. No way he was going anywhere with Derek all up in his business, and he wasn't about to try ducking under his arm and exposing his back. Derek may not be wolfed out, but there was a predatory edge lingering in the air, and Stiles was not about to risk it.
'All right, big guy. Well, thanks for the save, yeah?'
'Whatever. Don't go into the Preserve alone again. Next time I won't bother to save you.'
In the blink of an eye, he was gone, melting back into the shadows of the trees, but not before Stiles caught the subtle edge of a smile curving the corner of his lips. It was a hint of emotion on that otherwise grumpy face, and Stiles swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore the stupid little flutter of his heart as he climbed behind the steering wheel. Derek was probably just happy he got to kill something. No way it was anything to do with Stiles.
It didn't matter how much his heart tended to thrill in Derek's presence, or that a hot rash of want rushed through him every time he set eyes on him. Derek never looked at him that way.
And he never would.
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based-bobcat · 10 months
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The Flash
Yup, I got dragged to see this movie. It’s the best comedy of 1994!
-The opening scene was fine, but it set up the rollercoaster of tonal shifts we were about to jump on. I admit I laughed during the baby shower scene. Barry not being able to touch the people he saves seems like a new handwavy addition so they wouldn’t just speed to, say, Russia.
-Affleck in the Batsuit looks like Dark Knight Returns Batman, especially his face. It didn’t look good at all. Another laugh when WW showed up with that epic musical sting out of nowhere.
-There is no fucking way that Iris West would ever interact with Barry after him schizoing in front of her every single second. 
-The time travel itself was pretty cool, until they used CGI akin to Jimmy Neutron to show the ‘waves of time’ or whatever. Also it looked so much like the cosmic treadmill, you might as well have used it. Made totally not stolen from Flash season 3 stand out even more when he pushed Barry off the not!Treadmill.
-Whoever decided to have Ezra Miller play a dual role should be fired, shot and set on fire in that order. Barry Allen is the most annoying character to ‘grace’ the screen since Jar Jar, and no, film,  outright saying Barry is annoying doesn’t help. It just makes it worse.
-Barry and Barry have a scene in which Barry comes to the shocking conclusion that nobody of the League is around to stop Zod... Even though during MoS nobody was active during that time aside from Batman. They retcon Barry into the same trailer scene Bruce was in, which felt like I was finally watching a comic book. Pointless retcons!  That shows that Barry tried to save a kid and a dad, but failed to save the dad. A nice waste of time because you do see them later, they literally suffer the same fate. Even worse, Barry wasn’t even there this time!
-The usual ‘this is how OUR time travel works’ scene was generic, but spaghetti metaphor was at least an interesting take. Also autism be damned, Bruce can cook a good pasta
-While I usually like Michael Keaton, it seemed like he was phoning it in. He said ‘I’m Batman’ like an old person welcoming you to Target. He looks so bored
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-In a later scene he says “You wanna get nuts? Let’s go nuts” in the same bored tone, shot the exact same way and the movie gives a pause for fucking applause. Beyond embarrassing. They also had Batman shield others from bullets with his cape like 5 times minimum and every time he made this face.
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-Now the 4 people who follow me and read this will say ‘of course you’d say that’, but Supergirl is the only good part in this fucking shitshow. Rushed as hell, yes, but good. She took off because mankind imprisoned her so mankind bad, and immediately went back because Barry saved her in the span of a literal minute. Could’ve been explored better though. One of the Barry acts like a 4 year old could’ve been cut for Kara coming to terms with the fact that Kal-El isnt out there. Or just adjusting to freedom. Instead she immediately fights Zod, because the movie needs to (They do give her a reason, but only after she agreed to help to stop Zod)
-The reason being, yet another fucking retcon, on this Spaghetti strand Kara is the one with the Birthing Matrix, and Zod killed infant Clark to discover this. I genuinely dont get this change. It’d be more interesting if Clark died on arrival and the matrix was destroyed. So Zod is just Terraforming the Earth as a fuck you to Jor-El. 
-Just now realising that Zod came to Earth because Clark/Lois activated a signal, but without Clark how the fuck did he know where Kara even was?
-Final fight scene had tonal whiplash every five fucking seconds, I kind of tuned out until Kara and Bruce died. Barry and Spaghetti-Barry go back in time, it doesn’t work. OG!Barry finally learns the lesson that CW Flash never fucking learned about time travel, but Spaghetti!Barry keeps going until we get a literal crisis on infinite Earths type shit with Earths clashing into each other. To nobody’s surprise, Spaghetti!Barry is not!Savitar. Well to everyone’s surprise probably since I forgot he existed. They have the gall to say Spaghetti!Barry created himself, using OG!Barry as a way to do so.
-This is after an embarrassing amount of ‘REMEMBER THIS’ zooming in on those other Earths, with DC using the corpse of Christopher Reeves as nostalgia bait. Classy. 
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-At least Nic Cage got to play Superman, good on him. Sad he still had to fight that giant spider. Telling that they CGI’d Reeve in, but Adam West only gets an audio clip
-A delicious middle finger to CW because the only reference to that we saw was Zoom-as-Jay-Garrick also known as the moment CW Flash went to shit.
-Anyway the movie ends with a woman hugging a bloody, dirty, crying man who is clearly wearing stolen clothes, then crying homeless man proceeds to steal her can of tomatoes. This is played with sad music and slo-mo. I genuinely haven’t laughed that hard in the theater in years.
-The movie ends with George Clooney as Batman, instead of giving me more Sasha Supergirl. Which they should’ve done. With Henry no longer playing Clark, why not give us Supergirl.
Numbers for movies dont mean shit, but this movie is a 3/10 and that generous. I laughed along with the movie the same amount of times I laughed at it, so that is a win? The people I went with could not name a single thing that they liked. Not a single fucking thing. Reportedly Aquaman is going to be worse. I cant wait.
Lets hope James Gunn turns this around. Not holding my breath
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allycat75 · 2 months
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A bit more about the repercussions of "Drive Away Dolls"...
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Boy, it's one thing for critics not to like a film, but it is an entirely different thing to have it despised by audiences. I know Boston Dumb Fuck's comeback cult leader role in "Honey Don't" was reported to be the second in the "Drive Away Dolls" trilogy, but it looks like the marketing team is already backing away from that, trying to push it as more of an "anthology" (and if it gets worse, perhaps no connection at all). I do wonder, however, how much script doctoring they are currently doing to fix any problems. Always a good sign for a movie just about ready to begin filming in a couple of weeks.
But I think this tale is emblematic of a larger problem- lack of authenticity. Not too long ago, most of us were contemplating our priorities and our own mortality in lockdown as we watched the Covid losses reach into the millions. Many of us felt if we made it, we would come out of it with more of an appreciation of what was real and true- the people in our lives, the experiences we have, how we spend our time because it is all precious and can be taken too soon and at any moment.
But, how soon we forget. It seems we have become cynical, apathetic and manipulative again (maybe) and no where is this seen more, with the exception of politics (*cough* ASP *cough*), is in what Hollywood tries to shill. They expect us to be brain dead and grateful for their product, and feel they can put anything out there and we will eat it up like gluttons. Whether it is the new male or female flavor of the month (regardless of talent), the latest recycled intellectual property or the original too cool for school-more shine than substance asset, they think we have forgotten what authenticity means and that is why we are seeing so many failures. In the era of social media, everyone is now an expert. We know the tricks and we don't like being conned out of our hard earned dollars by billionaire C-suite pricks who are worried if they can buy their 4th yacht.
And this incompetent, pointless, inauthentic shitshow we are witnessing is exemplary of how out of touch BDF and his team appear to be. It is like he is a jockey riding the doped-up horse that is his career (both with blinders on), owned by CAA and trained by Narrative, each with other jockeys and horses they care about much more. Most of us are no longer betting on him and his horse because we know the disaster that will come- not if, but when.
His team has often given him dubious content. Take "Playing it Cool", coincidentally also staring Aubrey Plaza, who has a role in "Honey Don't". This is a very weak, if not completely problematic, script and while he was popular, BDF could at least make something like this inert. But in this new hypocrite era, BDF can't save a feeble project and will be blamed for it, furthering his reputation as a joke in the industry. Look at "Pain Hustlers"- one of those too cool for school scripts, giving a too cool for school performance. Millions of people have died due to the opioid crisis, but why further the debate or shine a new light when you can exploit that suffering for a slick, self-serving movie for Netflix.
No one wants superficial, but that seems to be how BDF and his handlers are looking at his career, and really his life. Don't look too closely at the script; don't look too closely at the contract; don't look too closely at the wifey and her background; don't look too closely at your own thoughts and emotions; don't look too closely at how your decisions and actions affect the world around you. A selfish life for selfish people.
But the world spins madly on and as an original, lovable celluloid fibber once said "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it."
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inyourwildestdreams22 · 11 months
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"Cause here in tumblr we share all" you are a funny one, I must have missed the picture of Timmy and Zendaya on your blog, a person that has now worked on 2 movies with Zendaya but somehow Tom fans are still scared of. The very idea they might just be friends still bothers you all. I guaranteed you if Tom were to have a picture taken in the same space as an ex-girlfriend none of you would care and would post it in a heartbeat. Maybe take a look in the mirror before looking at Zendaya fans on twitter.
lmaooooooo so I see you come from twitter, well come back there then, I shared the video of her dancing which was the important part of that party to me since I stan Z, if you want Timothee content go to his blogs, i personally don't care about him. I never had a problem of sharing pics of Z with him, as you can see if you scroll down to when they did promo or were spotted while filming, but anyways I share whatever tf i want, You're not gonna come to my blog and policy what I post, do your own blog if you want. Goodbye.
PS: maybe also stop to think why people here are wary of posting certain content cause you all don't see the shitshow that we have to deal with in our inboxes and maybe we don't wanna deal with that shit that btw is insulting to Z.
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midnight-fauna · 2 years
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pretty girl (i'll wear a skirt for you)
A/N: Originally posted on my Ao3 under "TheExtrovertOutcast"
Pairings: Nancy Wheeler/Robin Buckley
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 1762
Summary: Nancy dresses up Robin for Pennhurst. Robin does the same.
Ronancetober Day 3: Body/Style Swap
“Academic scholar? She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah,” Steve asked, gesturing accusingly to Robin with a raise of his eyebrows. Robin glared at him, shutting the music box in her hands with a small thud and placing it back on the dresser. 
You’re just mad I stole your girl, Robin said with her gaze, boring deep into Steve’s. His eyes immediately widened defensively.
I am not! Steve mouthed back, understanding what Robin meant without her even having to save a word. 
“No, but,” Nancy said, interrupting the two’s mental conversation, “she will.”
Robin looked over to see Nancy proudly holding the most ridiculously feminine dress she’d ever seen. It was a blush shade of pink and absolutely covered in frills. From her spot on the other side of the bedroom, Robin could already tell how uncomfortable and itchy the fabric would be on her skin. “Oh… please tell me that you’re joking,” Robin groaned. 
~~~
Unfortunately for Robin, Nancy was not joking. 
Robin eyed the dress with disgust as Nancy took the seat beside her on the bed. Steve had left the room, finally allowing the girls a taste of privacy. It was the only upside to the whole ordeal. 
“Robs, come on, it’ll just be for a few hours,” Nancy reasoned, taking Robin’s hand in hers and placing their intertwined fingers in her lap. Since the shitshow at Starcourt Mall, the two girls had begun to get to know each other better. Once winter had rolled around, a Christmas movie night had left the girls a little too close to one another. Nancy had reached up and kissed the whipped cream off Robin’s lip and the two had been history ever since. 
“That thing” - Robin pointed at the dress - “is going to suffocate me.” 
Nancy raised an eyebrow. “So, you have a problem with a dress collar but not my hands around your-”
“Nance!” Robin interrupted her, her face reddening immediately. 
Laughing, Nancy stood up, hoisting Robin up with her. “C’mon. As much as I adore seeing you in your suits, misogyny requires you wear a dress so we can meet with Creel.” 
At that, Robin’s face lit up, causing Nancy’s to immediately scrunch up with suspicion. She knew Robin only got that look when she was planning something. 
A delighted grin spread across her lips, Robin rushed over to her backpack and began rustling through it. “If I have to wear that cocoon of death-”
“That’s a bit dramatic.” 
“- I think it’s only fair you try on some of my clothes.” Robin emerged with a handful of denim and flannel. “Deal?”
“Robs, we have to go soon-”
“You can change right back, ‘promise,” Robin insisted, hands raised in a show of sincerity. “It’ll be fun! It’s like… a style swap! Freaky Friday but just with our clothes!”
“Freaky… Friday…?”
Robin gasped dramatically. “You haven’t seen Freaky Friday?! Nance, that’s a classic! That’s it - after we kill this demonic motherfucker, I’m absolutely forcing you to watch it.” 
“Fine, we can… do a freaky Friday… whatever the hell that means,” Nancy said, feigning annoyance, but her little smile broke the facade. 
Robin squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together and hopping around the bedroom. She rushed up to Nancy and gave her a peck on the lips. “You first, your majesty.” 
With a huff, Nancy began slipping off her sweater vest. She let it fall to her mattress, starting on the buttons of her collared shirt. Robin couldn’t help but stare in awe, watching her girlfriend like it was the very first time all over again. 
“Keep looking at me like that, Robs, and we might not be back downstairs for another two hours,” Nancy said calmly. Robin immediately flushed at the words, covering her face with her large hands. Her rings were cold against her hot skin. 
“I wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that,” Robin mumbled, peeking between her fingers.
Nancy turned back and smiled at her, walking to the closet and hanging up both the shirt and the vest. “Trust me, I would love nothing more, but unfortunately it’s on us to save the world once again.” 
Robin forced her gaze away as Nancy shimmied out of her skirt, knowing damn well looking would be all too much for her and she’d be a wreck the entire time at the asylum. She expected that having a gay panic over her “colleague” wouldn’t be the best impression for the facility director.
She heard the rustle of fabric and turned back around to see Nancy in her torn jeans, bending down to roll the too-long pant legs up to her ankles. A little inhale lodged in Robin’s throat at the sight. 
“Nancy Wheeler, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Robin confessed. 
“I know.” Nancy came over to Robin, looking up at her with her doe eyes as she shouldered on the oversized flannel, only buttoning two-thirds of the way up. It left the pale skin of her throat and upper chest exposed, a stark contrast to the plaid, dark blue fabric. “I take great pleasure in that, trust me.” 
All self-control left Robin’s system at that point, leaning down and capturing Nancy’s lips in hers. Her stomach fluttered at the little groan that arose from her girlfriend, muffled by their kiss. It was near-dizzying the way every time she kissed Nancy, it felt like their first. A part of her brain still couldn’t wrap around the fact that the Nancy Wheeler, the most beautiful girl in Hawkins, was her girlfriend. She chose Robin. She saw past all of Robin’s awkwardness and clumsiness and chose her.
A soft, manicured hand slid up the nape of Robin’s neck, teasingly tugging at sensitive strands. Nancy’s other hand moved down to grip the cloth of Robin’s striped shirt, pulling her down closer. God, Nancy was a whole five foot four and still had Robin completely and utterly under her control. 
“Please,” Robin begged into the kiss, nearly fucking whimpering when Nancy pulled away, a smug smile tugging at her lips.
“Your turn,” Nancy murmured. She stood on her tiptoes, grip still clutching onto Robin’s collar. Robin could hear the amusement in her voice when she whispered, “I get to see you be a pretty girl for me, Robs.”
That was all the motivation Robin needed. 
She practically leaped out of her clothes. Her whole goddamn body seemed to alight with a blush when she caught Nancy staring unashamedly. 
“Your freckles are so pretty, sweetheart. You really are my whole galaxy, aren’t you?” Nancy’s eyes flicked up to meet Robin’s, who could only nod quickly, at a loss for words. How the hell was she supposed to reply to a compliment that beautiful?
Nancy picked up the dress, smoothing her palm over the top to rid it of any lingering wrinkles. “C’mere, let me help you.”
Robin obeyed without question, standing in front of Nancy and carefully using her shoulders as support as she stepped her legs into the dress. Her breath caught in her throat as Nancy dragged the fabric up, fingertips tracing her bare skin as she went. The gentleness was still foreign to Robin and a small part of her wanted to burst into sobs. Nancy treated her with unbelievable tenderness, slipping on the dress’s straps and carefully turning her around so she could pull up the zipper. She turned Robin back around and clasped the buttons in the front before stepping back and looking at her in awe. 
“My pretty girl,” Nancy murmured, almost only to herself. 
Robin stuffed down her ego and did a little twirl for Nancy’s sake. It was immediately worth it when she heard the melodic sound of Nancy’s delighted laugh. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s… uh, it’s definitely breezy,” Robin noted, awkwardly sitting down on the bed and tucking the skirt down around her. 
Nancy laughed again, crossing the room and grabbing a bag. “Well, your flannel is actually quite comfy. I quite like this switch.” 
“It looks better on you, anyway,” Robin said sincerely, breath hitching when Nancy clambered into her lap, knees on either side of Robin’s thighs. “Oh, uh, shit, hey… there?”
Amusement sparked in Nancy’s warm eyes. “Hey. Mind if I put some makeup on you?”
“Keep calling me your pretty girl and shit, Nance, you can do anything to me,” Robin rasped, voice cracking at her girlfriend’s name. She was a complete mess. 
Nancy kissed Robin’s forehead. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
Holy shit. 
Placing the pouch to the side, Nancy began rummaging through it, emerging with a large makeup brush and a peach-colored container. She opened it to reveal packed-down powder. Robin’s makeup knowledge didn’t extend much farther than mascara, so she eyed it with curiosity. 
“Blush,” Nancy answered for her. “I was considering foundation, but it’d be a crime to accidentally cover up any of your freckles.”
Robin relaxed completely when the touch of fluffy bristles caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into Nancy’s touch, moving one hand to mindlessly play with her girlfriend’s curls. She felt heavenly as Nancy continued to do her makeup, letting herself completely submit to the simple commands - “hollow your cheeks”, “part your lips for me”, “hold still” - and the following praises - “such a good girl for me, Robs”, “so pretty”, “you’re doing so well”. 
She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until Nancy was gently nudging her shoulder. “Robin? Baby? Hey, you okay?”
“I’m wonderful,” Robin mumbled hazily, feeling completely safe and loved with Nancy so close to her. She reached forward to kiss Nancy, but a gentle grip on her chin stopped her. 
“Mm-mm.” Nancy shook her head. “You can’t kiss me right now, Robs. I put lipstick on you.”
“Nevermind, I’m actually on the brink of death,” Robin groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back, taking Nancy down with her, who immediately burst into a fit of giggles. 
“Hey, I still have to get changed too,” Nancy complained light-heartedly, hitting Robin’s arm with no real strength behind it. “Let me up.”
Robin closed her eyes again, smiling deviously as she held Nancy close to her chest. “Nope. You’re mine now. The world can save its own ass.” 
Both of them knew that Nancy was quite strong and could easily pull herself out of the hold, but she didn’t. It made Robin’s stomach flutter. 
“Fine, two minutes of cuddling,” Nancy said, placing a kiss on Robin’s jaw. 
“Ten,” Robin countered. 
“Three.”
“Eight.”
“Four.”
“Seven.”
“Five.”
“Six.” 
Nancy chuckled, burying her face into the crook of Robin’s neck. 
“Alright, Robs, six minutes.” 
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heyharoldsboo · 1 year
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if we are again and again returning back to the topic of percy staying silent, i just want everyone to remind about how melanie martinez spoke up about her false allegations and it didn`t help her at that time and even maybe made everything even worse. so staying silent is gold. they say that his silence is loud, well, of course it`s fucking loud - he doesn`t need to do anything for this card house to fall down. at first i, too, wanted a statement from him just so that it calmed down this shitshow and my anxiety about it, but now seeing how everything is unfolding, i understand how incrediably smart and tough it is for him to stay silent. all i want is for him to be comfortable, surrounded by his loved ones and then come back with karma blasting behind him, thriving better than ever because that`s what our smol casanova deserves.
Anon, I couldn't have said it better myself.
I really admire him being able to keep quiet during this whole shitshow. It shows his strenght.
I hope he is surrounded by his friends, that he's watching his favourite movie, that he is curled under the blankets, and that Georgie is snuggling him. While eating warm cookies.
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