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#and he's like Noticeably Much Bigger than scott
marc--chilton · 1 month
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(mgv) the first time lawrence actually meets scott it's when he's at adam's apartment, both of them just enjoying each other's company, they aren't even fooling around (even though obviously there is So Much Sexual Tension) they're just watching a movie, lawrence probably just got off work and doesn't want to go home to an empty house quite yet. then in walks scott, who let himself in because (as adam explains later) scott is the closest thing adam has to an emergency contact, so he gave him his spare key, and yes it's stupid but "i'm not exactly swimming in trustworthy company, man"
and INSTANTLY. the SECOND lawrence catches scott's scent his lips pull back on reflex. he doesn't even register that THIS is the scott adam mentions, he just knows this is another alpha and his specific scent sets off something in lawrence that has him pulling adam tight to his side and growling loooowww. and scott's a DICK so he sees that threat display and immediately wants to fight right back, no question, only made worse by the fact that there's an omega between them (who is about to start biting both of them so they'll chill the FUCK out and NOT kill each other in his apartment)
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jellieland · 6 months
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"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."
"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.
"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."
"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.
"And you killed me last session!"
"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.
"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.
"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"
"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.
"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"
"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"
"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"
"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.
"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.
There is a short silence.
"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.
"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"
"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.
"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"
"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."
A few moments pass.
"You may continue," she says.
"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"
"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.
"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."
"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."
"But—have you seen how they get?"
"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"
"The people who don't die."
"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."
"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."
"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."
He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.
"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.
"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."
Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."
"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."
"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.
"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"
Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."
"Oh."
"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."
"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.
"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.
Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.
"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."
They stand there, silent, for some time.
"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."
"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.
"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.
"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"
"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"
"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."
"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"
They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.
It's nice, not to have to be there alone.
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littlexdeaths · 15 days
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.
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eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
series masterlist
based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕
word count: 8.3k
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Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.
The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.
Parties were never really your scene.
You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.
However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.
Eddie Munson.
He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.
Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.
Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.
The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.
You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.
Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.
You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.
And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.
So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.
That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.
Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.
Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.
You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.
You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.
Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.
Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.
“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.
But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.
You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.
“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.
The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.
“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.
Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.
Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.
“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”
You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.
“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.
The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.
You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.
If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.
“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”
You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.
The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.
“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”
Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.
“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.
The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”
You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.
“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.
You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.
But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.
But he knows he can’t. Not here.
Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.
Anywhere is better than here.
You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.
You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.
While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.
You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.
Skank, prude, lying whore.
The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.
How did you even get to this point?
Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.
It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.
Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.
Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.
What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.
You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.
It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.
But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.
A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.
You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.
You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.
That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.
You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.
The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.
While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.
You feel vulnerable and exposed.
You hate it.
Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.
Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.
You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.
“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.
The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.
The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.
“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”
You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.
He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.
“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.
But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.
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You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.
Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.
He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.
“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”
“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.
“Something like that.”
Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.
His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.
You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.
You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.
You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.
Music.
Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.
He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”
He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.
Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.
You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.
“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”
Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.
“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.
You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.
“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.
The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.
The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.
I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.
“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.
You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.
You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.
Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.
But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.
You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.
You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.
You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.
You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.
You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.
“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.
Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.
Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.
In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.
But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.
Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.
“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.
He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.
“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”
You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.
"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."
You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.
“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.
“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.
A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.
“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.
“Much better,” he hums.
Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.
Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.
“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.
“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.
Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.
That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.
“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.
The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.
“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.
“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”
You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.
Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.
“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”
Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.
His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.
But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.
“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.
You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.
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Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.
A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.
The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...
If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.
Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.
In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.
He looks completely at ease.
Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.
You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.
You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.
You have to end things with Scott.
And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.
You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?
But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.
A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.
“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.
You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.
When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.
“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.
He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.
“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.
You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?
You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.
What a great way to make a first impression.
You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.
Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.
“Come here.”
It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.
You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.
While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.
At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.
Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.
The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.
His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.
“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”
You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.
“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.
The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.
You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.
“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”
His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.
“Eddie, please,” you breathe.
“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”
Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.
Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.
Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.
“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”
Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”
Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.
“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.
You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”
His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.
This is something that would be his, and his alone.
His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.
The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.
“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”
Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.
“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.
You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.
“Fuck— come on, please.”
Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.
It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.
“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.
You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.
“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.
The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.
If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.
However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.
“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.
Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.
He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.
“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”
The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.
You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.
“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.
You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.
Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.
But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.
The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.
Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.
Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.
The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.
Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.
You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.
Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”
You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.
“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.
“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.
You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.
However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.
Scotty has got to go.
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sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh
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exhoetic333 · 1 year
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catastrophize
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Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader
[1.3k words] To you and Stiles, being forced to share a motel room during a school trip seems like a much bigger catastrophe than facing the supernatural.
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Your bags sat in the corner of the the room and simmers in the spite that soaks the air. The window was cracked open and, every once in a while, you’d wish to throw yourself from it. At least it’d save you from the greater horrors that would catch up to you eventually: sharing a bed with Stiles Stilinski.
He’d somehow managed to go half the evening without looking at you, though he had to share a seat with you on the bus ride to the gloomy motel. In truth, it was a superpower you both shared, ignoring the obvious in that way—a person in the same room or a feeling taking up all the space in the world. You dealt with both. You didn’t discriminate.
Following the day’s heavy events, you’d decided to take a shower and was drying your hair by the time Stiles came back in the room, closing the door soundlessly behind him. You’d dropped a cup of coffee earlier when he came barging in, and it still sat on its side, over the dresser in the far end of the room. The various chocolate bars and chips bags stuffed in his arms were threatening to overspill and he tossed them all on what would end up being his side of the bed, then let his body crumble besides them. Whilst you were righteously drying your hair with a white towel (not the questionable one they’d provided), he was gobbling down his first chocolate, a bar of Snickers.
He looked at you and tried not to let his eyes drop much. You wore a top that didn’t do him any favours. “Do you like chocolate, spawn of Satan?” he questioned casually.
If it wasn’t one of his wild and kind of insulting nicknames he used, it would be your last name and the same went to you. In all your years of knowing and hating each other, you’d barely uttered each other’s first names once or twice.
“You’re so weird,” you said with a grimace, brows furrowed and lips pulled downwards.
“I’ll take this as a compliment,” he mumbled to himself, then tossed a bag of barbecue chips on your side of the bed. “There, your favourite. You can’t say I’m not a kind person.”
You rolled your eyes and tossed the towel aside on a rocking chair. “So sweet it rots my teeth,” you sarcastically countered.
If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, Stiles could’ve sworn you’d be the most perfect girl in the entire world. However, you flipping him off came blurring that fact quite quickly.
When you came to sit in the bed, your side evidentially, you noticed that Stiles’ energy had died down and you found his lack of sarcasm imbedded snarked remarks oddly irritating.
“What’s wrong with you?” you’d asked like you didn’t care, brows furrowed in the middle.
He didn’t reply right away, so you opened up the chips bag and shoved a handful in your mouth. “See, you do like it!” he exclaimed like a little kid. You offered him a deadpan, to which he scoffed and shook his head. “I’m just worried about Scott, all right?” he replied all of a sudden, refusing to meet her eyes.
“I’m worried about him, too,” you confessed. “And Allison, and Lydia, and Derek. I’m worried about all of them, but they’re looking at me for moral support so I can’t exactly express my irrational fear now, can I?”
Stiles’s breath caught in his throat. He looked up to meet your eyes and his features contorted in something similar to sympathy. “I always thought you were the fearless kind,” he said softly. It was a sentence that struck him, kind of like the moment you realize your role models are real people with flaws and feelings (not that you were his role model).
“You thought wrong,” you told him between gritted teeth. You were irritated at yourself for showing such vulnerability, especially to the boy you were supposed to despise.
“Hey, if it helps, I’m very scared too. Actually, I’m scared of practically everything. Hell, I almost started shaking when Coach said we’d share a room,” Stiles said, then tried to hide his nervousness with a laugh.
You laughed, you couldn’t help yourself. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Stiles exclaimed.
“Why?” You’d tried to hide your grin in your shoulder, which coaxed a small smile out of him.
“Because you’re, like, the prettiest girl in the school,” he justified. “And you hate my guts, so there’s that.”
You sighed. The bag of chips was done, so you’d crumbled it up and tossed it in the can besides your side of the bed. “I don’t hate your guts, Stiles.”
He froze with the candy bar halfway to his mouth. When he spoke, his mouth was full and he sounded genuinely shocked. “You… don’t?”
“I don’t,” you confirmed.
A long moment of silence passed. Stiles no longer wanted to eat his favourite chocolate and you’d long forgotten about the last chop in your hand awaiting to be devoured. There was a single lamp that illuminated the room and it was right on top of you, so while you could barely decipher the expression on his face, he could examine every inch of your figure. From the hair draped over the crook of your neck to the shadows your eyelashes cast on your cheeks.
A loud series of knock on the room door made you both gasp in surprise, all of a sudden pulled from such an entrancing haze. On the other side, Coach Finstock had announced a motel-wide shutdown. It was time for your curfew and you didn’t want to go crash Lydia and Allison’s room like you had planned earlier. They’d wonder where you were though they secretly had seen it coming. You’d stay in that room and sleep in that bed. You’d picked your side already.
You slid under the covers and told him to turn off the lights. Afraid to shatter the windowpane you’d built carefully in that moment, he’d refrained himself from saying anything snarky. You’d waited for it but it never came; that was the moment you understood that something had changed between you two. It was the subtlest of shifts.
Stiles took the other side of the bed, but laid facing you as you did on the other side. There was a sort of invisible wall between you two, a hellish line you couldn’t see but were still afraid to cross.
“Hey,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question nor a statement. Just a word floating in the room and circling the drain like a catastrophe.
“Hi,” you replied.
You closed your eyes. Your knuckles brushed against his and a faint smile carved itself delicately on your lips.
What begun as something you and Stiles couldn’t stop catastrophizing ended up as the end of a chapter and the beginning of another. You’d taken a shovel and dig up things you believed where they’re only for your search to come up empty; you’d found greater treasures instead.
“We’re still gonna pretend to hate each other though, right?” You could hear the smile in Stiles’ voice as he spoke.
You opened your eyes and and grimaced. “Who said I’d be pretending?”
Then you both burst out laughing, faces pushed into the pillows so it wouldn’t echo too far down the hallway.
You woke up the next morning with his face in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over the bare flesh. The metaphorical wall that stood tall between you two had crumbled and left nothing in its place. This was a kind of sweet catastrophe that you could get used to.
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gumnut-logic · 6 months
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Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part One)
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I wrote something! I'm a little rusty, but words happened!
Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for the read through and sanity check.
I hope you enjoy it :D
-o-o-o-
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”
Alan blinked. Virgil’s voice was little more than a low rumble through the wall. If Alan hadn’t been practising his handstands up against that wall, he probably wouldn’t have heard his brother.
Of course, Dad’s office was the best place not to be at most times, but for some reason this exact spot in the hallway was the only place Alan could stand on his hands for any length of time.
He’d tried his bedroom, Gordon’s bed, Virgil’s bed, John’s bed, three of the outside walls, the big tree out in the field, the kitchen wall - Grandma had growled so much - and the living room.
The living room wall wasn’t conclusive as Grandma had chased him out before the soles of his sneakers had touched the wall.
But this spot was the best. No-one hung around outside Dad’s office and Dad had never noticed.
“Scott needs this.”
“This isn’t just about Scott.”
Alan swallowed. Scott had been sick for a long time. It had all been so scary. There had been yelling late at night, and once Alan had heard his brother screaming.
It had been terrifying.
Grandma said that his big brother had been hurt while he was in the air force and he needed time to recover.
But Scotty had been so sad. He still gave great hugs, but he never smiled any more.
Alan wasn’t dumb. He had access to the information nets and he had looked up things that could cause his brother to be so sad. He guessed it was something to do with his mental health, but no one was telling him anything.
He’d asked Virgil and the look on his big brother’s face was almost as sad as Scotty’s, scaring Alan even more.
But Virgil sat him down and explained about someone hurting Scott and Scott just needing some time to get better.
Which was exactly what everyone else had said and didn’t fix anything! Alan wanted his fun big brother back. He wanted to find whoever had hurt Scotty and punch them really hard.
A bigger hunt on the nets pretty much confirmed it was a mental health thing, but the possibilities were endless and more and more terrifying. He had worried and fretted for weeks.
But then one day Scotty had started smiling again. It was sudden and it had Alan running across the kitchen to hug him.
Scott had grunted, like he always did when Alan tackle-hugged him, but this time his big brother picked him up and squeezed him ever so tight in return. He even messed up his hair.
Scott was finally feeling better! The days following proved it to Alan. But there was still something in his brother’s eyes that hadn’t been there before and he still tired more easily, the tap of his cane his constant companion. It was obvious that not everything was one hundred percent.
But Alan had been granted a smile and he was going to take it and run with it. He was ever grateful for it.
“You don’t have to be part of International Rescue, Virgil.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not letting him do this on his own. Or you, or John.”
“You are not responsible for any of us. If you do this, you have to do it for yourself.”
There was silence for a moment and Alan held his breath. What was ‘International Rescue’?
“I am, Dad.”
“But you don’t want to do it.”
“I didn’t say that! I’m worried about Scott. He is clinging to this like a lifeline. It’s not healthy-“
“Sometimes we need to make do to survive.”
There was a creak of furniture as if someone was sitting down. “Dad…”
Soft footsteps. “He needs this, Virgil. I need this.”
Alan froze where he was, upside down against the wall, all his blood rushing to his head, not daring to move and risk being heard.
His brother’s answer was a whisper. “I know.” So quiet.
“You are so much like your mother. She would be so proud of you.”
Alan squeezed his eyes shut. Their mother was a ghost in this house. Someone rarely spoken about but always there. Alan felt left out and guilty for asking questions about their mother.
Scott and Virgil had shown him the photos and videos. Dad didn’t talk about her ever.
Alan had also asked Gordon, but his youngest big brother had only been six and his memories were vague.
At least he didn’t have that weird look in his eyes when Alan mentioned her. His mom was a big hole in his identity, a mostly unknown, hurting black hole.
‘International Rescue’ had something to do with Mom.
But Virgil didn’t say anything Alan could hear.
He grit his teeth. Part of him wanted to flip onto his feet and get out of there but the rest of him wanted to know what his father and brother were talking about.
“So, we are on schedule for April?”
Alan let out a breath.
“Yes. It’s best to avoid the cyclone season and in the meantime finish our preparations.”
“When are we telling Gordon and Allie?”
Again footsteps, this time walking away. “Alan’s birthday, as planned. We’ll make it a surprise, a positive.”
Silence. “You know my thoughts about that.”
“Are you going to fight me on everything?! This is a good thing, Virgil! We will be saving lives!”
“We have lives here! We have family and we need to keep them safe!”
“How does telling them on Alan’s birthday hurt any of us?”
“We’ll be leaving everything Allie knows. His friends, his school, everything, to live on an island in the middle of the ocean. I think that has the potential to hurt. A lot.”
Alan found himself holding his breath. They were leaving the farm?!
“So we should tell them sooner?” It was sharp and mocking.
“Alan will need time. He’s only nine, Dad. This is a big thing.”
“For all of us.”
“Exactly!”
Again silence fell and all Alan could hear was the thudding of his own heart.
“Alan, Grandma is going to force feed you burnt cookies if she finds shoe marks on the wall.” His big brother’s jean-clad legs suddenly appeared near Alan’s head.
He should have heard the cane. Why didn’t he hear the cane?!
Alan teetered sideways and nearly took out the hall table beside him. Strong arms wrapped around his legs and saved the life of one of Grandma’s flower vases.
Unfortunately, Scott must have dropped his cane and, along with it, his extra support and balance. A squawk and clatter of limbs and Alan found himself in a heap on the floor beside his big brother.
For a moment he lay there staring at his brother’s profile - his nose, weird dimples and messed up hair. “You okay, Scotty?”
His brother let out a breath. “Yeah. Just checking the ceiling for cobwebs.”
Alan would have grinned at the joke (paraphrasing a Gordon much put out at missing the growth spurt that had almost every other brother scraping the tops of door frames) but his head was a mess of questions.
He grabbed his big brother in a desperate hug.
“Hey, Allie, you okay?” Warm arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight.
“Scott!” Virgil’s voice startled both of them. Hurried footsteps rushed over.
“I’m fine! Something’s up with Allie.”
Alan looked up from his big brother’s arms to find Virgil kneeling down between them. Behind him, tall and dark-haired, stood their father.
His grey eyes pierced into Alan’s head.
“Allie, what’s wrong?” Scott had worry in his tone, something Alan did not want to hear.
“I don’t want to move to an island.” It came out small and scared.
Scott stiffened beside him and pulled away a little.
Virgil whispered something Alan couldn’t quite hear.
Alan stared up at their father. “I don’t want to go.”
-o-o-o-
Part 2
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buildheight · 2 months
Text
“Right,” Gem says, keeping her voice steady like a hand of cards to her chest. “What do you know, then?”
It’s not so much a question as it is a threat, and Pix answers in kind. “I think we’re both aware of what’s going on here.” 
It’s a bluff. Gem darts her eyes back at the group in the courtyard, then to Pix again, who gives her a bemused smirk. “Okay,” she says. “Just… don’t mess this up for me.”
“I certainly have no intention of the sort,” Pix says. A cloud passes over the sun, casting a long shadow.
==
This Scott smells very distinctly like llama. It’s not an unwelcome thing. Gem observes the way he talks sweetly to his herd and moves his hands through their coats. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen another Scott act like this. His clothes are garish and, by all standards, mismatched, and his hands are stained with an ever changing array of dyes. He very calmly and confidently attaches the saddle to the llama he’s working with, and it seems soothed by his presence.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a grin that reaches his eyes. “What colors were you looking for?”
==
The rift glows ominously, and pulses with a sick purple energy. Gem can’t keep her eyes off it.
“What’d’you reckon, then?” A voice pipes up from behind her. She bristles.
“No idea,” she says, smiling, then turning around. In that order.
“Bit weird, if you ask me,” Joel says. Gem can’t help but think of a bird puffing out its feathers to seem bigger.
“I don’t know anything about magic, really,” she lies. 
Joel gives her a blank look with those familiar glass eyes. To her credit, her smile doesn’t twitch. “Right then.” He shrugs. “Not much of a conversationalist.”
==
“I’m sure there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Gem says, running her fingers through her hair, watching the way the strands catch the moonlight.
False doesn’t turn to look at her, but her movements do slow. It’s enough of an answer.
“I’m not just saying it,” Gem insists, but something in the way False reaches up to her hair to mirror Gem’s movements makes her stomach flip.
“I think I need a haircut,” False says instead, voice no louder than a whisper. 
Gem moves to close the shutters, not looking at the moon. “That would be nice,” she whispers back.
==
Gem watches as Sausage orbits around Pearl. The Hermits, to their credit, have been very accommodating. They don’t ask too many questions. The dry heat of the Nether Roof is a good excuse for why her palms are sweating.
Pix, to her chagrin, seems bemused.
“Don’t say anything,” she says, hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Pix does a convincing approximation of a cough into his hand.
Gem watches as Sausage enters course for collision. It takes her every ounce of strength to turn away when he puts his hand on Pearl’s shoulder. She catches Joel’s eye instead.
==
“He’s a bit pants, isn’t he?” Jimmy whispers loudly. Oli was too loud in his crooning to notice the crowd ignoring him.
“Yeah,” she admits.
“I think it’s nice,” the Old Sheriff says. “He’s trying to recapture his glory years. Good reminder to us all that the past is left dead.” He spits a glob of something mysteriously dusty onto the floor.
“That’s nice?” Jimmy scoffs.
“You’ll get it one day, buddy,” Joel says, and pats Jimmy on the back.
“Darn tootin’,” the Old Sheriff agrees.
Gem feels the words stick in her throat. Someone throws a rock at Oli.
==
“I’m not sure I need something super new,” Katherine says, holding up two nearly identical pink dresses in the mirror. One is a bit shorter than the other, but they’re both lavishly embellished. It’s like playing dress-up. Spending time with Katherine is easy, if nothing else. She’s so very… Katherine. Watching her flutter around the room is a good comfortable feeling. “What do you think?”
“Left one?” Gem offers. “I like the matte fabric.”
“I’m going with this one. I like the shiny silk.”
“Good choice,” Gem says. “Go with what your heart says.”
Katherine laughs, and Gem laughs, too.
==
“Have you known?” Sausage says one night, sitting up on the roof of his tavern, watching the stars. “This whole time?”
Gem doesn’t answer right away. The cool night air feels so good on her face. There’s no need to say out loud what Sausage already knows.
“I just have one question,” he says next. It’s so quiet, so honest. Gem can hardly match the Sausage she knew with the one sitting next to her. “Why leave me there?”
It’s a question Gem has answered to herself a million times over in the mirror. Tonight she confesses. “I was scared.”
==
By the time Gem packs her bags, Pix and Joel have already gone.
“It’s just time,” she says to herself. She’s not sure who she’s justifying herself to. Sausage seems perfectly content to let her go. There’s nothing keeping her here. 
The flight to the Rift is shorter than she anticipated. The sun setting over the Great Bridge casts a long shadow over the land, and she watches as lights flicker on in homes dotted across the valley. The corpse of Grumbot is the only thing left to wave her goodbye.
Perhaps, she thinks, people don’t need the past anymore.
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intoanotherworld23 · 10 months
Text
Loving You Is A Ride
Pairing: Reader x Luke Collins (Scott Eastwood)
Warnings: None
Length: 2902 words
Summary: After getting your heart broken a family friend let’s you stay with them for a while, and you swear off of love. That is until you meet a handsome and charming cowboy named Luke Collins
Alright I was totally inspired by @cevansbaby-dove and @cutedisneygrl to write this since they posted about him! It’s unfortunate there not more fanfiction about this man cause he is just so gorgeous, and I’ve been obsessed with him for a very long time. I hope you all enjoy! Thank you guys so much! XOXO
Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks
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It's Friday night here at the local bar, and it's already packed full of people. Most of them wearing cowboy hats and girls wearing revealing outfits hoping to take someone home. If you weren't behind this bar you'd be one of those women.
Not that you were the kind of girl to do stuff like that, but your heart was covered in ice at this point. The last thing you wanted to feel was some type of emotion. It was like you had this wall around you, and you refused to let anyone break it down.
Your fiancé had been cheating on you, and you literally caught him in bed with another woman. Next thing you know you saw red and it ended with him getting a black eye and a couple scratches on his face and arms.
Of course you kicked his ass out of the apartment you two shared since it was in your name. Drinking away your sorrows as you wallowed in self pity. Ignoring every phone call and text you were receiving not in the mood to talk to people.
Things started to get so bad you literally locked yourself in your room barely leaving your bed as you laid there in the dark. Barely eating since your body was only craving something that could help numb the pain. Your mother came over and was shocked by what she walked into. She knew something had to be done to get you out of this funk.
Calling up a family friend telling her you needed to get away for the summer. Offering you a job to help her at the bar she owned, and a free place to stay at hers. You weren't going to pass up so you packed a lot of stuff and made yourself at home.
Telling her everything that happened, and she could tell you were hurting. Cassandra was the type of person that would help you out with anything, and do everything she could to make you feel better. Hoping that you working at the bar you would meet someone special with her blessing of course.
The music was blaring as you found yourself having to keep wiping down the counter top and refilling drinks. A couple young men attempting to flirt with you only to shot down none of them peaking your interest. Except one.
Feeling eyes staring at you almost as if he were zoning out. Looking behind you to make sure there wasn't anybody else he was looking at. His eyes still focused on you as you stood there awkwardly wondering if something was wrong with him.
As he was staring you took that time to really look at him. Noticing how faded his light blue flannel shirt was meaning he's either had it for a long time or it was cheap. It was loosely fitted around his thick arms which looked bigger than your head. His aura was just screaming cowboy even though he wasn't in uniform like everybody else.
"You alright there buddy?" Asking him as he snapped out of his day dreaming letting out a dry cough.
"Oh yeah sorry my brain just kind of stopped." Walking up to the bar as he looked away.
"Do that a lot?" You quipped at him making him crack a smile.
"Only when I'm in the presence of someone gorgeous." Showing off his straight white teeth making you roll your eyes. Here we go again.
"Wow I've never heard that one before." Your tone dripping with sarcasm but that just made him smile harder. "You must use that one a lot."
"Actually I've never really used that on a woman before." That was very doubtful giving how smooth he spoke it.
The man was incredibly handsome and you found yourself slightly drooling over him. His face was sweet and kind, like there was something warm there.
This man seemed like he had stories to tell and you found yourself wanting to know more about it even though you didn't know his name.
His dazzling blue eyes were drinking you in as you kept causally working but still focused on him. Feeling his eyes on you the whole time as you tried not to stumble or drop something. His eyes dropped down to your chest for a minute before snapping back up making sure he didn't get caught creeping.
"What's your name?" He raised an eyebrow at you leaning against the counter.
"Y/N." Flipping a rag over your shoulder as you placed a hand on your hip. "You got a name?"
"The names Luke Collins." You swear you've heard that name before.
"Your a bull rider aren't you?" Luke awkwardly coughing being caught.
"Yeah I am."
"I figured you were."
"How'd you figure that out anyway?" Looking around the bar waving your hand around to all the men and women in cowboy hats and boots making him laugh.
"This bar is filled with amateur bull riders I think I know the signs." You honestly didn't really know if these men were, but you just assumed since there was a rodeo arena just up the road.
"You got me there." He chuckled feeling sheepish suddenly around you.
"What made you get into riding?"
"Uh just something I wanted to do." He was getting a little uncomfortable.
"Was your father a bull rider or something?"
For a minute his smile faded away as he looked deep in thought. Part of you felt bad for being so pushy about it, but it was too late now to take it back. His eyes focused on the sticky counter top as his jaw clenched picturing his father that last night he was bull riding.
It's been so long since Luke has talked about this or even mentioned his father. It was still a sensitive subject for him, and even after all these years he still never got over him. No matter how hard he tried to let it go he simply couldn't loosen that grip he had.
"My father was a rider as well." Looking up at you to see your eyes staring at him now hearing that crack in his voice. "He died when I was thirteen years old."
"The bull threw him down on his head and he never recovered." He continued on as you nodded along feeling complete sympathy for him. "I wanted to continue his legacy."
Luke was trying to control his breathing not feeling like crying in a bar full of people. Especially not in front of you otherwise he would die of humiliation. Just like you he sometimes would bottle things up so much until he would explode.
He seemed so genuinely nice and down to earth. Feeling your whole being gravitating towards him, but knowing to still keep your hands up maintaining that distance. The last thing you wanted to happen was to get too close to this guy only to get your heart broken and stomped on.
"I'm so sorry." Looking down to see your hands gripped a towel so hard you felt your skin would burst. "It was wrong of me to ask."
"Are you kidding me?" He half heartedly chuckled making you look back up at him. "I'm glad someone asked instead of just assuming my story."
"Well I think it's incredibly sweet you are doing it for him." Smiling at him Luke returning it showing off his pearly white teeth.
For some reason you felt guilty flirting with him like this even though you were single, but your mind couldn't wrap around that just yet. Maybe this was too soon to be thinking about being with someone else.
There was a moment of silence between you two as you helped other patrons in the bar. Like stayed there waiting for you to finish which completely surprised you. Figuring he'd waltz off to find some pretty girl or his fellow riders to chat with.
"So you got someone waiting for you at home Luke." He awkwardly laughed scratching the back of his neck.
"Nope I don't." Quirking an eyebrow at him feeling like he was lying.
"I find that hard to believe." There was no way a man like him didn't have some gorgeous woman wrapped around his arm. "I bet she's gorgeous and just perfect."
"Well if you meet this woman can you tell me." He joked back making you roll your eyes at him.
"What about you?" Taking a sip of his beer asking you the same question that had you halting not wanting to discuss him. "You got somebody waiting for you?"
"Not anymore." A hint of sadness in your voice as you now avoided his eyes.
"I bet there are a million guys waiting in line just to get a chance with you." He was just being nice you thought to make you feel better and you cracked a weak smile at him.
"Afraid not." Getting back to your work completely avoiding him now feeling that brick wall get closer and closer to you.
"You probably just don't notice them is all."
His words were true countless guys flirted with you and tried to get your number, but it just went over your head.
It wasn't his fault he wouldn't have any idea about your past relationship. He would have no idea you were once engaged and completely happy.
Luke was simply asking you because you did, and he actually was genuinely curious. You were someone that Luke would go out with, and you were his type inside and out. There was something about you he wanted to get to know.
This guy felt like he stood a chance with you, and even though you two were flirting you kept a distance not wanting to lead him on or let him catch feelings.
"Hey Y/N hon can you go in the back and get some more cases of beer?" Cassandra's chirpy voice called making you turn your attention towards her.
"Yeah sure thing." Leaving the bar as she took over walking towards the back feeling like someone was watching you.
Grabbing one case you felt like you were strong enough to carry two. You were completely wrong as you struggled to carry the two boxes laughing to yourself at having no upper body strength. Your hands were starting to hurt as you tried to get a firm grip.
Luke noticed you had been gone for quite a few minutes so he decided to go make sure you were okay. Looking around to see you standing there knees slightly bent as you struggled getting the beer. Laughing to himself seeing that determined look on your face reminding him of himself.
"Need some help?"
His voice making you jump slightly as he jogged up to you grabbing the box on top your arms feeling less pressure.
"Jesus Christ you scared me." Turning to look at him laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. "I've got it."
"Doesn't seem like you do." He argued back smiling softly as he stacked another box in his hands with ease making you scoff.
"Show off." Mumbling under your breath as you followed him back to the bar.
Dropping the boxes off on the floor as Cassandra looked between you and Luke. A smile on her face as she smiled with a shake of her head knowing you bit off more than you could chew with the crates.
Underestimating how heavy those suckers were, and also you were as stubborn as a mule.
Luke walked back over to where he was standing as you got back to work. You could tell he was keeping his eye on you, and wanted to further your conversation. Cassandra could sense that too, and knowing her she was going to rub her hands and work her magic.
"Why don't you go on your break now?" Grabbing your hand as you looked around noticing the crowd wasn't going anywhere soon.
"Cass I can't leave you alone." Shaking your head as Luke beamed at the opportunity.
"Oh please this is nothing I can't handle." Giving Luke a quick wink as you looked away grabbing your purse underneath the counter top.
Cassandra knew exactly what she was doing, and she was good at doing it. She noticed the way Luke was watching you all night, and she hasn't seen you smile like that in such a long time. It was a familiar look that you got when you first met your ex fiancé.
Shooting Luke an apologetic look as you shrugged your shoulders giving him a wave as you shuffled through all the people. Giving a last turn back look you see Cassandra talking to Luke as he nods his head with a bow. Wondering what exactly they'd be talking about.
Luke quickly finishing his beer as he turned around to the doors you walked out of hoping you would still be in the parking lot.
Hearing a couple of his friends waving him over as he shook his head and kept walking towards the exit determined to catch you.
Looking around he spots you standing by a silver jeep leaning over the back seat messing with something. He also can't help but notice how your shirt was rising exposing your soft skin to his eyes.
Stopping his thoughts from getting any dirtier as he walked over to you standing there with his hands in his front pockets clearing his throat.
"Nice ride."
His sudden voice makes you jump turning around your back against the car as you placed a hand over your heart. He was really going to have to stop scaring you like this.
"Shit, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Trying to slow your heart rate down knowing it wasn't some killer stalking you.
"Sorry wasn't trying to scare you." Apologizing with a concerned smile as you crossed your arms across your chest.
"That's twice now you've snuck up on me." You teased. "Three strikes and you're out Luke ."
"I promise it won't happen again." Crossing a finger over his heart making you giggle.
"Let's hope not I'm still too young to have a heart attack." That made him laugh as he awkwardly stood directly in front of you now.
"So did you need something from me?" Looking around quickly then back to him asking him raising your eyebrows at him.
"Actually yeah there is something I wanted to ask you."
Luke was nervous and he didn't know why afraid that a beautiful woman like you would reject him so quickly it would make his head spin.
He figured someone like you flirted with guys like him when you worked to get bigger tips. Not being the type of guy to throw himself out there like that. Usually girls came up to him, and he never really had to work to get a girls attention.
"Yeah?" Having a feeling you knew exactly where this was going gulping so loudly you felt he heard it.
"I was wanting to ask if you wanted to hang out some time."
Your breath hitched as you thought how to let him down easily. Trying to find the right words but straining to speak once you saw how adorable he looked right now. He looked like some lost little puppy dog on the side of the road just waiting for someone to pet him.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt you to just give the guy a chance. It's been too damn long though since you've just hung out with a guy. Thankful he didn't use the term date meaning he wasn't exactly looking to move so quickly.
"Yeah sure why not." Your answer had him smiling from ear to ear making your cheeks feel like they were burning.
"I'm not that bad I promise." He joked as you smiled softly at him.
"I don't know about that I've heard about you bull riders." You mused fiddling with your car keys.
"The only rider you'd have to worry about is Jared Middleton."
Staring at him like he just grew two heads having no idea who he was even talking about noticing the confused look on your face. Something he didn't really want to get into already.
"That's for another time."
"I'm gonna hold you to that." Pointing a finger at him as he chuckled.
Exchanging your numbers as he put his name on your phone under handsome rider with the bull emoji making you laugh. Of course you put your name as 'that girl from the bar' snickering to yourself as you did it.
"I'll uhh text you." Motioning to his phone as you nodded opening the driver door.
"I look forward to it Luke." Watching him as he walked away back inside his figure disappearing into the crowd.
Your mind was telling you to just let him down easily and tell him you're not interested. Then again your heart was telling you to go for it. It was becoming all too confusing on what you should do. Knowing you can't be single for the rest of your life, and shut everyone that comes into your life out.
As you closed the door you sat there with your hands on the steering wheel. Staring straight ahead as you realized what you were about to get yourself into. This could either end good or completely horrible.
"Fuck." Whispering as your face hit the steering wheel.
——————————————
Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @cookielovesbook-akie @adaydreamaway08
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where-is-vivian · 1 year
Text
I'll Adore You
from @jegulus-microfic's prompt, freckle (675 words)
Regulus’ eyes have this little speck of yellow, like gold drops in the middle of a storm; his eyes are grey, and James could swear on that, but when he looks very closely, right before he kisses him, he sees them. They’re like stars in Regulus’ eyes.
Regulus has this little habit to always fold his unused parchment the same way, every time. First from right to left, then he takes the corner on the bottom right and he folds it so this corner touches the top right one.
Regulus has a very tiny strand of hair on the nape of his neck. Since he always has short hair, and he hides it under his curls, no one ever sees it, but when James kisses him there, he sees it.
Regulus loves his coffee extra sweet. And he pretends to hate it when James pretends to mock him for it. Truth is, James loves this detail because when he makes coffee for Regulus, it really gives him the feeling to make something with love for him, and not just plain coffee.
Regulus likes the little white flowers, the ones in bouquets that are always used to make the other and bigger and more colourful flowers pretty. He thinks they also deserve to be noticed. He says “they do all the work, so they deserve to be seen”.
Regulus’ favourite book is The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. James has never read that book, but he knows the story by heart anyway, because he likes to ask Regulus to tell him the story with his words. James always ends up falling asleep, so Regulus often has to do it all over again. James pretends he still doesn’t know the full story, so Regulus does it again; because when he does, his eyes shine, and he smiles, and he looks so passionate, it’s wonderful.
Regulus is pretty. This is an important point. It seems he always gets more and more beautiful as time passes.
Regulus falls asleep first most of the time (unless he’s telling James about his favourite books). Then James puts a blanket over him, and he sits quietly next to him. James never knew Regulus would fall asleep so easily; he always seemed like a night owl to him. 
Regulus can talk to birds. He knows which one makes what sound, and James finds that amazing; Regulus said he learnt that during his childhood, because he was bored, and because it relaxed him to pause everything, and just… talk to birds.
Regulus always does this looping thing when he wins at Quidditch. Which is infuriating when he wins against James, and James’ team loses, but most of the time, James finds it endearing. He wants to join him. Actually, it never misses to make James smile, even if he lost. He wants to join him, when he does that, but he knows it’s his moment.
Regulus always taps his fingers on whatever surface he can (his knee, the table, his bag, an arm rest, …) when he listens to music. Sometimes, there isn’t music in the room, and Regulus doesn’t even have headphones on, but James guesses he has music in his head already. He wishes he could be there too.
Regulus’ hair is soft. James can never get tired of messing them a bit, stroking them, and then detangling them with his fingers. Regulus doesn’t mind. James is glad Regulus doesn’t mind.
Today, James can add another line to his list.
Regulus has freckles all over his body, and with the sun of summer, they get more visible, and James wants to kiss each one of them. As if they were targets just for him to kiss and adore; there’s this legend. That says that every mole or every freckle you have on your body is where your lover kissed you the most in your past life. Well, James has to do better than them; he will love Regulus more, so much that, in his next life, he’ll have even more freckles.
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ageless-aislynn · 1 year
Text
Okay, I’ve made myself whittle my Mass Effect: Andromeda Playthrough #1 Romance Options down to three:
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Jaal. ZOMG, Jaal has joined the crew and he’s even more my type Sara’s type than I was expecting! He gives off slightly tortured soul vibes to me, kinda blunt, funny but reserved, not the sort to give his trust easily but once you have it? Woooooo boy, he is There For You™ no matter what. Also? Shoulders for daaaaaays. 🔥🔥🔥
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Suvi. Only an option for Sara, not Scott. Honestly, I think she’ll get a playthrough of her own with Sara even if it doesn’t turn out to be this one. I just like her, what can I say? I love that she’s managed to reconcile being both a woman of faith and of science at the time. There’s a slightly sad sweetness to her, like she’s been waiting for somebody to really see her for a while now and that she has a lot of love to give to the right person.
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Peebee. Sassy and funny but i get the feeling there’s a lot more to her than what she likes to show on the surface. Also an option for Scott, so if she doesn’t get a Sara playthrough, then she’ll probably get one for him. However, every time she and Sara interact, I feel like Sara goes
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(imagine screechy dial-up noises to really sell the feeling, lol) when she looks at her, so there’s that. 😂
Also, did you notice? Ya gal got her game capture working! This weirdly wasn’t as easy as it’s been to capture Halo footage. 🤔 The fact that Andromeda is more like ONE GIANT MASS of a game instead of having levels like each of the Halo games makes it much more difficult to note what scenes are coming up or to go back and get cutscenes again. And for some reason, it’s recording in a HUGE size, much bigger than Halo’s, so there’s no way I can just capture the whole game without needing TBs of storage space. 😬 So I doubt I can capture enough to make a ton of GIFs, much less to vid it. Though once I’ve played it through a few times, I may know when to target capturing for certain scenes. 🤷‍♀️
You know, I tell myself that I don’t HAVE to vid every fandom I love but, well, I’m a vidder at heart, what can I say? I like to have the option open at least! 😁👍
Oh, before I forget, I’m about 99% certain that Vetra is going to end up with Scott, so my Turian sweetie WILL get a romance, if not with Sara, then with her bro. Cora is also definitely getting a whirl with Scott. Oh and I thought Liam was an option for either but nope, just for Sara, so I’ve got to give him a playthrough, too! I’m hoping that what I’ve heard is correct, that if you just basically stick to the main missions, you can get through the game in about 10 hours, so that’s not a huge time commitment and will let me get my romance options on both as Sara and Scott a couple of times!
1,000+ hours on the MCC makes 10 hours sound like not a huge time commitment, yep, lol! I’m at 18 hours or so now for Andromeda and while I wasn’t expecting to do much if any of the side quests, I’m actually really enjoying them! It’s nice to have something I can tackle and resolve in a much shorter time than, you know, finishing the entire game. 👀😉
[/end mass effect andromeda update of updateyness] 😛😂💖
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roachliquid · 1 year
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On Crackpots and Crack Theories
I'll be happy to admit, I didn't share most of the "supporting evidence" in The Story of Atlantis and the Lost Lemuria because I do not have the expertise to debunk many of the claims they're making. I'm not an occultist or a historian, I'm a guy who likes to read horror fiction. However, I do know a couple of things about sussing out crackpot theories, so I figured I would share some of the tells that let me know this book is full of shit.
1: Crackpots make extremely grandiose claims.
Most scientific theories are not what you'd call earth-shattering. Important, yes, but not the kind of thing that would upend your entire understanding of history, the universe, whathaveyou. When exceptions arise in actual science, they're met with surprise from everyone, often including the scientists who made the discovery in question.
Crackpots, on the other hand, are nearly always trying to start a revolution. They might claim to have discovered some heretofore unfamiliar (yet fantastically effective!) form of medicine, an incredible facet of history that will change how we understand civilization, whathaveyou. In the preface to The Secret of Atlantis and the Lost Lemuria, A.P. Sinnett claims that the idea of Atlantis is the missing key to understanding history; that, indeed, it is impossible to understand how humans spread and diversified if you don't take their information into account.
2: They are overconfident in their "findings".
As I said before, real science usually involves very few revolutions. So when an actual scientist makes a discovery that seems to Change Everything, the very first thing they are going to do is try to disprove it. And then, usually, try to disprove it again. Because if your results seem to upend everything that has been observed up to this point, the problem is most likely on your end.
Crackpots do not want to disprove their theories. They don't even want to test them, and avoid actual peer review like a vampire avoids sunlight. Instead, they release their ideas through avenues that they know won't earn them too many questions, such as ordinary book publishers, non-scientific magazines, or TV and radio. They might claim that they were forced to these outlets by mainstream science trying to "suppress" their theories - which is a sure clue that their ideas don't stand up to scrutiny.
3: Their "mountains of evidence" are piles of straw.
As you might imagine, building evidence to support a theory can be tough work. It usually involves a lot of experiments, studies, peer review, more studies, and of course, cross-referencing your findings with fellow scientists to rule out other explanations for what you've seen. And the bigger your theory, the more work and rigor it's going to take.
Crackpots skip all that, and instead scavenge the work of other scientists for any bit of information they think serves their purpose, no matter how disparate or irrelevant. For example, W. Scott-Elliot has pointed to the discovery of underwater volcanoes and significant volcanic activity in the Atlantic as evidence that a continent existed there and was destroyed by calamity, despite the fact that the presence of volcanoes does not prove a continent any more than the presence of dog shit proves there is grass underneath. Similarly, the (supposed) existence of portraits of Black people in Central America does not prove that those people were Atlantean, as the book claims.
He also points to several alleged parallels between different cultures around the globe. While I cannot speak to the extent that any of these may be true, what I did notice is that they are all divorced from any surrounding context that might explain the similarities or reveal them to be less close than Scott-Elliot is claiming. Of course it sounds impressive when you claim that several Central American cultures have practices that neatly echo Christianity, but even if we assume that much is true, what did these practices actually look like? Did they really serve the same exact purpose as similar Christian practices? We are never given the details that might answer these questions, just the vague claim that they are totally the same, you guys.
Additionally, many of the similarities they cite occur between completely different sets of cultures - raising the question of whether they should even be viewed as related in the first place.
4: They frequently appeal to ignorance and speculation.
Crackpots love to use supposed gaps in current knowledge as evidence that their theory is correct. For example, Scott-Elliot claims that we don't know how people successfully brought bananas from the Old World to Central America, and points to a German botanist (notably not an archaeologist or other expert on the subject of human travel) who concluded that they must have been transported prior to the current Ice Age by "civilized man".
The thing is, the existence of a mystery that your theory might potentially solve isn't proof that your theory is correct, especially when it is so elaborately detailed (the claims of "root races" and so forth) and covers such a broad swath of alleged history that it can easily take credit for any random coincidence in the world. Additionally, the idle speculation of one racist botanist does not prove in any sense that there is no other way bananas could have traveled.
5: One or more of their major tenets has already been disproven.
Even if 99% of the claims in this book were correct as written, there is no possible way that it could prove that a continent called Atlantis really existed between America and Europe. Why?
Firstly, because Plato made Atlantis up. He explicitly said as much in the story where he introduced the concept. It was never real, it was an elaborate metaphor created for the sake of a thought experiment.
And secondly, because geological records have already shown us how the continents got to their current shapes and positions - and it makes much more sense than the placement of an entire continent between Europe and America that was sunk into the ocean by natural disasters, especially when you factor into the shit that the Atlantis theory doesn't explain. Now, in all fairness to Scott-Elliot, the concept of Pangaea wouldn't be formed for nearly 20 years after this was published, but now that we do have that information, we can safely consider the sunken continent hypothesis to be bunk.
So that, in a nutshell, is how to debunk crackpots when you have no idea what the fuck they're talking about. You're generally going to run into at least a couple of these red flags, but it also pays to just keep your critical thinking hat on and ask yourself if the claims you're reading really sound all that reasonable compared to anything you might already know about the subject in question. Research helps too, but in this case, since the text handily disproved itself, I couldn't be assed.
That's all, see you later!
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will you pretty please tell me about how teen wolf is a shonen??
Oh Griffin you're gunna be so sorry you asked.
I started thinking about this in the first place because I was pondering about the genuinely weird fan reaction to the first couple of seasons of Teen Wolf. Mostly, how people went "this is a concept we like!" and then had no idea what to do with and how to react to the main cast.
To be totally fair, part of this is because the writing of the first season is even worse than you remember it being and the Scott/Allison romance, which is supposed to be the show's centerpiece, is maybe the worst written part of all of it. Another part of it is that the acting talent skewed very young (Dylan O'Brian and Tyler Posey were both only 19/20 during season 1) and their ability to work with this frankly terrible material was a little bit uneven (Posey got WAY better as the show went on and by the end of it was really great imo, but oh man. that first season is not his best work).
But I also think there's a genre and genre convention thing going on here. Let me explain.
(disclaimer because this is a public post on tumblr: this is not that serious and is mostly a thought experiment in genre conventions please don't take it that seriously)
When did Teen Wolf first air? 2011. What were some comparable shows coming out about that time, or that an audience who wanted to watch Teen Wolf might also have watched/been aware of?
The Vampire Dairies, Supernatural, probably something like Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
What do some of these shows have in common?
Snarky/sarcastic main characters (Dean Winchester, Buffy)
Main characters who are often gray-moral or struggle with a pull to The Dark Side (the moral compasses in these shows are usually part of the supporting cast) (and are always high up on the list to be killed off for drama tbh)
Pre-streaming TV formula (episodic monster-of-the-week builds to a larger plot which is resolved in the last 4th of the season)
Romance that relies strongly on will they/won't they, love triangles, and edgy angsty 2000s vampire shenanigans.
You will notice that Teen Wolf has. basically none of this?
Teen Wolf has:
A painfully sincere main character
That same main character is about as moral and stick-to-his-guns as they come
Said main character gives Big Sweeping Speeches that convince irredeemable bad guys to be on his side instead of theirs.
Structured in clear and well-defined arcs, no episodic monster-of-the-week, where the bad guys keep getting bigger and scott's party keeps needing to power up to deal with them.
Audience knows who Scott is gunna end up with pretty much immediately (even when Scott moves on from Allison because of IRL cast fuckery, he always has one main romantic objective and works toward that)
Liberal application of coming-of-age themes/The Power Of Friendship
,,,,,Hm, I think to myself. That sure is something that feels more familiar to the way a shonen is structured than how a western supernatural teen drama is usually structured.
Scott in particular is an archetype that feels very foreign to the landscape of the western supernatural drama at the time. Protagonists of those types of shows were rarely as good and pure and kind as Scott is, and I think it's a big reason why so much of the audience didn't know what to do with him at first and instead attached to Stiles (who is gray-moral and sarcastic and would not feel out of place in a show like spn or btvs) (yes yes I know the sterek thing is also a big reason but go with it for a second here). However, Scott is NOT an archetype that would feel foreign to Shonen Jump at the time, particularly in an era where Naruto was still ruling the world.
Honestly, the whole cast of characters feels out-of-beat with a 2010s Western supernatural drama. The dynamic of the main cast in early seasons — Pure of Heart-Dumb of Ass hero, Tragic Cold and Competent foil (Derek basically playing the role of Sasuke here, lol), Powerless Childhood Friend, Love Interest with a Badass Weapon to Hide Her Vulnerability — all feels much more familiar with the tropes of a shonen (something like Shaman King specifically jumps to mind) than something that would show up in The Vampire Diaries. In Western supernatural dramas, you usually had a Snarky-Angry Hero, Tragic Brooding Love Interest, Concerned But Useless Friend/Sidekick.
,,,,,,Tbh, in a standard western teen drama, the Derek character would have been Scott's love interest. Which. Honestly, what the hell, now I want that, that sounds like an awesome show. Probably better than the Teen Wolf we got.
Oh. Also, there's a hot murder uncle. which is for-sure an anime thing.
ALSO-also, there are kitsune in this show for one season for like no reason because they're never mentioned again and vanish in the next season which happens WAY MORE THAN YOU THINK IT WOULD in this DUMB BAD NONSENSE SHOW —
clears throat. nevertheless. My thesis:
1: At the time it came out (2011), Teen Wolf was structured more like a shonen than a western supernatural teen drama. 2: That is part of the reason why fans had weird reactions to it — they were expecting one genre and it gave them another one, which a lot of the audience likely wasn't that familiar with. 3: this whole show is batshit bonkers.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk. *bows.*
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mummyofgoonpigs · 1 year
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Part 3
Scott’s cock became very sensitive once he’d cum but Fiona was still in the moment and riding him hard and unfortunately for Scott his erection wouldn’t subside due the the huge amount of viagra that had been injected into him.
Tom watched on transfixed, he couldn’t take is eyes off his former colleague as he sucked on her knickers, her huge tits bouncing and swinging as she rode Scott’s mighty erection, he was amazed the 70yo woman had so much energy. He could feel his locked cock trying to get hard in its cage but it was no use, the cage was a perfect fit when he was flaccid and there was just no room for it to grow even a tiny bit.
4 orgasms later Fiona finally dismounted Scott’s raging hard on and stood in front of Tom, she took her knickers out of his mouth and said “keep your mouth open” Tom did as she ordered as Scott’s two loads ran into his waiting mouth “now swallow it like a good boy” Tom looked at her with horror but she just tapped his collar, defeated Tom gulped down the the remains of Scott’s cum. Fiona smiled and patted him on the head “Good boy” she then got dressed and turned to Scott “see you tomorrow fucktoy” with that she left the room with Tom crawling behind her.
Jacquline was in her office watching the events unfold on her 3 screens, she’d had cctv fitted everywhere so could keep an eye on proceedings.
This was going better than planned she thought as she massaged her pussy through her tight leather pants.
Back in the office Fiona went to each of the other woman and whispered in their ears, they all beamed with what they were being told. Chris and Jason were both continuing with their foot worship duties while Sean was still making Hayley’s boots sparkling clean.
Kim decided she wanted a go of the new office sextoy and ordered Chris to follow her, on his hand and knees of course. When they entered the room Kim’s eyes sparkled at what she saw, the nurse had just finished cleaning Scott’s cock, it still stood fully erect and pointing to the ceiling, the nurse left the room and as she did she smiled at Kim and said “enjoy”
Kim motioned to Chris “lie there next to the bench” Chris obeyed as he didn’t want his collar going off again, Kim quickly undressed and said to Chris “now get me nice and wet” as she stood astride him and lowered herself onto his waiting face. Kim was a bigger girl with a naturally hairy pussy and Chris slowly licked her and could feel and taste her excitement growing. In turn she was slowly running a finger up and down Scott’s dick causing him to shiver in his tight restraints. She rose up from Chris, grabbed her panties and pulled them over his head, the crotch was right over his nose and he could smell her scent.
Kim then focused her attention on the bound man as she lifted her leg over the bench and looked down at him, she grabbed his balls and squeezed them hard, Scott let out a muffled yell from behind his gag as his eyes met hers. He’d never noticed before but she had the look of the devil about her now “let’s see how this fits shall we” she said as she put his cock head against her wet pussy lips, she slowly slid along his shaft until she was fully impaled, then leaned forward and pinched his nipples hard. Scott let out another muffled cry. She started riding him, slowly at first and then let go of his nipples and leaned back with her hands on his shins and her feet on his chest. As she fucked him harder Scott could feel another orgasm starting to build, he of course had no control over anything as he lay they watching this chunky 21 year old using him for her pleasure. Kim started moaning loudly as she reached her first orgasm and Scott wasn’t far behind with his, he tensed as he shot his load and then relaxed a little but his cock remained hard and Kim continued to use it until her half hour was up. As she dismounted she gave his cock a hard slap which caused another muffled scream. She removed her panties from Chris’s head and sat on his face again “clean me up boy” she ordered.
Out of the corner of his eye Scott watched as for the second time that day one of his male colleagues swallowed his cum.
Tracy was still enjoying having Jason worshiping her feet and toes, he’d been down there for over an hour now and she found it very relaxing as she worked away on the PC, but she too decided to go and try out ‘Scott’ especially after the huge smiles Fiona and Kim had returned with.
Scott tensed as the door opened once more and her saw Tracy approaching with a defeated looking Jason trailing behind her.
Tracy walked around the bench unbuttoning her blouse and paused above his head, she took off her blouse and then her bra revealing a remarkable set of breasts for a woman of her age, Scott could see she clearly looked after herself. Jason watched from the side of the room in silence as she undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor, she took off her panties and stood completely naked looking down at at the gagged and bound male who was once her supervisor. What happened next shocked both Jason and Scott, Tracy reached behind her and with a small pop removed a butt plug from her arse, she then walked over to Jason and said open wide, he hesitated then remembered what he was wearing around his neck so opened and the plug was popped into his mouth. Tracy walked back to Scott, turned her back on him and then proceeded to sit on the dildo, from his prone position he watch the dildo side up her arsehole as her pussy lowered towards his nose, she looked down at him and winked as she started fingering herself a matter of millimetres from his wide open eyes.
She rode the dildo gently while playing with her clit and fingering her pussy until soon enough she was wet and ready for the ‘cock’. She lifted herself off Scott’s face, walked around past Jason and retrieved her butt plug from his mouth, popped it back in her arse and straddled Scott, then she lowered herself down on his massive pole
“Oh my fucking god” she screamed as she filled herself with his throbbing manhood. Scott and Jason were both surprised as Tracy had always come across as someone who was quite prim and proper and now here she was, quickening her pace and screaming and shouting as she rode the poor bound man “fuck yes, fuck yes, FUCK YEEEEESSSSS” she yelled as she reached her first shattering orgasm, Scott was close again and Tracy didn’t let up, he watched as she bounced up and down relentlessly on his engorged cock. All to soon he blew another load but she kept riding him with all her might and after not to long he could feel another one building. Tracy was screaming now “come on bitch, give me your cum’ Scott was moaning into his gag, his whole body tensing as once more he came hard. Tracy carried on fucking him for all she was worth until she had once last orgasm, she lay forward on his chest and whispered “I hope you enjoyed that, I certainly did” she slid of his cock and it immediately returned to its previous position, pointing straight to the ceiling “oh look” she said “there’s no stopping you is there” Scott looked at her with pleading eyes, sweat covered his whole body and he was shaking slightly. Tracy patted his cheek, got dressed and returned to the office with Jason crawling behind her………
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iammissingautumn · 1 year
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Assigning South Park M5 Mitski lyrics/songs
Stan Marsh - Brand New City
Think my brain is rotting in places
I think my heart is ready to die
I think my body is falling in pieces
-
I think my life is losing momentum
I think my ways are wearing me down
Stan Marsh is a character who has never been only about his depression or/and his levels of self hatred he has expressed in a place like Your Getting Older. But I feel like this really gets to the core of how he kinda views his unwinding. This kinda realization that the way you’re living is hurting you like you’re your own dislocated shoulder grating yourself down. I think that fits him.
Butters Stotch - Working For The Knife
I cry at the start of every movie
I guess 'cause I wish I was making things too
But I'm working for the knife
I always knew the world moves on
I just didn't know it would go without me
I used to think I'd be done by twenty
Now at twenty-nine, the road ahead appears the same
Though maybe at thirty, I'll see a way to change
That I'm living for the knife
I think this reflects a very specific way that Victor ended up being. The way that he could be wishing for more and so on. He works in a harmful industry and he had such a penchant for creativity as a kid and the arts (tap dancing, drawing, singing, playing guitar, etc) and yet when he grows up he gets into Post Covid’s scheme.
Which feels so much inspired from his Professor Chaos persona, which was born out of being hurt when he was young. And he was hurt when he was young largely because of how his parents abuse shaped him. Which is why I feel like “I always knew the world moves on. I just didn’t know it would move without me.” is such a good line for him. Butters was abused heavily for breathing, almost killed by his own mom, etc. His only solace could be his friends yet Cartman hurt him as well, rejection and malice all over the place. Until Butters was someone Cartman could use as a pawn, but as that happened over time Butters became his own ball of bad traits (he’s so misogynistic, racist, such a bully as of more recent times) and never was given a space to understand what was happening to his brain and was so upset by the bad things he leaned into it till it bled out of the Professor Chaos persona and became Worse.
He wants to be better, he wishes he could be. But he’s working for the knife!
Kenny McCormick - A Burning Hill
I'm tired of wanting more
I think I'm finally worn
I am a forest fire
And I am the fire and I am the forest
And I am a witness watching it
And I'll go to work and I'll go to sleep
And I'll love the littler things
Kenny being stuck in this cycle of (forced and self) sacrifice results in this cracked image of a lad. Expecting better from Cartman, expecting his other two friends to notice, expecting his parents to get better. I think there’s a level of hope in a young child that he feel that’s eroded away with time. And then he becomes the person who’s the destructive fire, and he is the forest being burned, and he’s the person not doing anything but being able to watch. He can’t stop his deaths but it’s in him.
With this ending promise of something more, of maybe being able to grow and expand. Love more. Have more. Not eternally burning.
Eric Cartman - Remember My Name
I gave too much of my heart tonight
Cause I need somebody to remember my name
I need someone to remember me
I need something bigger than the sky
Hold it in my arms and know it's mine
Eric Cartman has this distinct need for validation that moves him in such a specific way. Often when thinking he’s gotten himself in a corner we find that he’s actually on top of it all. Scott Tennorman Must Die is a good example of seeing him tempted purely because of how other people see him because of the stupid mistake. Along with this he has this distinct naivety (Butthole’s backstory is that their dad fucked their mom) that comes out in certain spots that show how much he cares about how people view him. On top of this he enjoys things like Butters being a minion of his. And his want and need for control, I think it fits well of him viewing that as a legacy, as wanting to be seen.
Kyle Broflovski - First Love/Late Spring
But I find that lately
I've been crying like a tall child
胸がはち切れそうで
And I was so young when I behaved twenty-five
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home yet
First Love/Late Spring is a song riddled with romanticization and dependency that I would attribute more to someone like Stan rather than Kyle. Yet these parts stood out individually to me as something that felt so deeply Kyle. Kyle is a character who spends a lot of time pushing aside other things to fight and speak out for the “just” cause. Often sacrificing his own time and mind to fight for the right cause, usually against Cartman. So I think there’s something particularly Kyle about this. How he’s stepped up as a young child, socially and interpersonally. But I imagine as he gets older that stuff kinda chips away and he sees the cost it does to him.
There’s this lost feeling he has connected to him. Something that I think would follow him he never checks in on himself as he grows up. The feeling of your chest about to burst, your world crumbling. His issues come about in a very different way. He looks productive but it hurts him, and I believe Kyle to be more emotionally intelligent then the rest and find a way to deal with this. But when he can’t, or even while he is, he has this hit of this experience the lyrics highlight.
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Trip to a Coffee Shop; a Harvey, Scott & Mike Drabble
[Okay, not backing out of this one! It's a chill coffee shop AU, featuring Coffee Shop Owner Scott, Homeless Mike, and...Normal Harvey lmao. Some things don't change. Enjoy- or try to. @antvnger]
Harvey was in desperate need of coffee, something he forgot to get before he left home because he was in a hurry. There were back-to-back meetings and he had to see a judge later. He needed all the caffeine he could get.
His regular coffee shops were too far from the office and he didn’t want to get something from a cart this time. He walked down the sidewalk for fifteen minutes when he came across a shop he hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was always there and he just didn’t notice because he had other places.
Little Guy Cafe
An indie place. Harvey didn’t mind indie shops but there were times where the coffee was a hit or miss, and right now, he needed a hit. A strong, strong hit. He didn’t have much time to be picky, though. Whatever happened, happened.
When he entered the little shop, he was hit with whiplash. It was like he was transported back in time. The furniture was mismatched and appeared to be from an older person’s house. The wooden L-shaped counter seemed to be the cleanest, newest thing there.
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to order something?” A man behind the counter asked.
Harvey was too busy taking everything in that he didn’t notice he was there. There was no uniform, just wore a deep red T-shirt and jeans. He did have a nametag, at least. Scott.
“Yeah, coffee,” Harvey finally said, stepping to the counter. “Black.”
“Where are your manners?” Scott asked, frowning, tone clearly offended.
“Are you kidding me,” Harvey replied, dryly.
Before Scott got the chance to respond, the door slammed open and a 20-something year old kid burst in. He was scruffy in every sense, from his hair to his clothes (which had some threads loose). Kid looked like he just finished running a marathon from how hard he was panting.
“Hey, hi, I need to borrow your counter,” the kid breathed out.
He didn’t wait for permission and ran over and went on his knees, keeping out of sight. It was at this moment Harvey knew he chose the worst time and coffee shop to walk into. Even Scott seemed uneasy by what just happened.
Not long after the kid came in, a man, a much bigger man also entered. It didn’t take Harvey or Scott long to put together the situation. Harvey glanced at Scott and gave a minute nod. Time to put on a show.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Harvey snapped. “You just let random kids run in, take your customers wallets, and then run out the backdoor? You ever hear of a goddamn lock?”
“Maybe next time don’t leave your wallet on the counter,” Scott scoffed, much more offended than before. “I doubt you need it anyway. Your tie probably costs more than my rent!”
Scott looked past Harvey as if he saw the other man for the first time. He looked twice as annoyed, if that was possible.
“Can I help you? I’m kinda busy right now.”
There was a moment of silence as the man took in everything that Harvey and Scott said. Kid, backdoor, new wallet, escape. In a nutshell. Eventually, the guy shook his head and started to back out.
“No, uh, no, thanks.”
He finally left. Harvey walked to the shop’s window and watched the guy run down the sidewalk. Little did he know the kid was still in the shop. Harvey waited until the guy disappeared into a crowd of people before moving back.
“Okay, kid. Danger’s gone.”
The kid hesitantly stood from his spot with the help of Scott. He looked between Harvey and Scott, smiling a bit sheepishly.
“Wow, thanks, guys,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You two were great. You actually sounded annoyed.”
“I kinda was,” Harvey and Scott said simultaneously.
Harvey rolled his eyes and Scott shook his head. The kid’s smile grew a bit, clearly amused by their behaviour. He walked out from behind the counter, placing his hands in his pockets. Harvey noticed that his clothes were dirty.
“What did that guy want with you?” Scott asked curiously, tilting his head.
“I might’ve ripped him off from a drug deal.”
“Might’ve?” Harvey repeated.
“I ripped him off. I didn’t have a choice, it was the only way I could get money,” the kid tried to defend himself.
“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I’d be richer than I already am,” Harvey said. “You’re young, but not so young that you can’t get a job.”
“Uh, yeah, I’d get a job if I wasn’t homeless,” the kid replied indignantly, shifting his eyes to the floor. 
Scott’s eyes softened considerably at that. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“And my ID is kinda…let’s just say, uh…” The kid was a stuttering mess. “Never mind. You don’t wanna know.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to know,” Harvey said. He started backing out. If he didn’t go now, he was going to get in too deep. “This is a waste of my time. Forget the coffee.”
Scott went from sympathetic to annoyed again. “You’re really just going to leave? Give the kid some money, you’re a walking bank.”
“None of this is my problem.”
“Unbelievable…”
Harvey Specter left the shop.
XXX
The next day at 11:00AM, Harvey went to Little Guy Cafe. He wasn’t surprised that, just like the day prior, there were no customers. It was just Scott behind the counter. He was cleaning a coffee mug when he noticed Harvey.
“Look who it is, the city’s greatest lawyer returns,” Scott said, sarcastically. “If you’re going to act like how you did yesterday, you can turn around and leave.”
Harvey didn’t know someone like Scott could be hostile, not that Harvey really knew him. The guy just seemed to have a friendly demeanour in general, and it was clearly a bad idea to cross him.
“I’ll have that coffee now. Like I said, black.” Harvey walked up to the counter, pulled out his wallet and placed a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change.”
Scott gave him a suspicious look, something Harvey couldn’t blame him for. He was doing his best to not act as condescending as yesterday. Not that he cared that much, but he really wanted his coffee.
Scott put the twenty in his till under the counter and started to work on Harvey’s coffee. While Harvey waited, he looked around the shop. For the first time, he noticed some photos on a shelf behind Scott.
“Let me ask you something, lawyer. You clearly only care about yourself, so why did you cover for Mike yesterday?”
Mike. So that was the kid’s name, good to know. Harvey shrugged at Scott’s question, crossing his arms on the counter.
“Did you see the guy looking for him? He was going to beat the shit outta the kid,” Harvey replied. “I didn’t need that on my conscience.”
“You have a conscience? Wow, who would’ve guessed.”
“It’s a small one.”
Scott snorted. “At least you’re self aware.” He finished Harvey’s coffee and passed it to him. He cleared his throat.
“Thank you,” Harvey said, dryly. “Now, has Mike been by?”
“No. I told him he could stay but he ran out as I was closing up shop,” Scott said, shaking his head. “I’m kinda worried about him. I know that’s probably a foreign concept for you.”
Harvey shrugged, took a long sip of his coffee. He hummed, satisfied. “Not bad, Scott.”
“Thanks,” Scott said, cracking a small smile. “I make some pretty good coffee.”
“That’s why this place is so full, huh?” Harvey said, sarcastically.
“Oh, man. You gotta work on your manners,” Scott scolded.
“I said thank you,” Harvey retorted.
“Yeah, but then you’ve been going back to being sarcastic,” Scott pointed out.
The door opened and Mike walked in, looking like a kicked puppy. He wore the same clothes as yesterday. Mike walked up to the counter and placed two twenty dollar bills on it.
“I’m sorry, Scott. The register was open and I just…acted on it. I couldn’t bring myself to spend it though. You were way too nice to me yesterday.”
Scott smiled, pushed the bills back to Mike. “You need it more than I do. I can easily earn it back.”
“With all these customers?” Harvey was back at his sarcasm, gesturing around the empty shop.
“Oh my god…”
Mike looked up at Harvey, smiling shyly. “Hi.”
“Hey. Listen, I-”
“It’s alright. You’re not the first person who’s brushed me off. Apology accepted.”
“What? No. I wasn’t going to apologize.”
Scott snorted.
Mike deflated. “Oh…”
“Yeah, we’re trying to work on his poor behaviour,” Scott cut in, winking at Mike.
“Why are you talking like I’m going to come back?” Harvey asked, stepping back suspiciously.
“You came back today,” Scott pointed out. “You could’ve gone somewhere better, yet you came here.”
“Scott’s right,” Mike agreed, standing straighter, smiling more broadly.
“Oh, no. I’m not getting involved with you two,” Harvey refused, scowling.
“Then go.” Scott waved his hand in a shooing motion. “But you’ll be missing out on some great coffee.”
“And great company,” Mike piped in.
“Annoying company,” Harvey corrected. “You know, I was going to give you a credit card to go buy some new clothes and get some dinner tonight. But now that you’re being so annoying…”
“Whoa! No, okay. I’m sorry,” Mike apologized quickly.
Harvey shook his head, did his best to hide a smile but couldn’t stop himself. Mike might’ve been one of those people really easy to please. Harvey reached into his pocket and searched through his wallet until he found the right card. He handed it to Mike.
Mike took it with hesitance, as if it was going to disappear or if it wasn’t real. He asked hesitantly, “Are you really sure?”
“I got more than enough money,” Harvey said casually. “Scott’s right, I'm a walking bank. I might as well try to hand it out once in a while. But don’t get used to it.”
“Thank you so much…” Mike struggled to find Harvey’s name.
“Harvey Specter,” Harvey provided. “Now go. Spend that money wisely.”
Mike smiled probably one of the happiest smiles Harvey’s ever seen. It gave him a strange, warm pang in his chest. He decided to not give it a name or pay much attention to it.
“Thank you so much, Harvey.”
“You already thanked me.”
Mike chuckled. “Grammy told me to show my gratitude as often as possible.”
“Just go. My chest can’t handle this.”
Mike furrowed his brows, clearly confused. He glanced at Scott, a silent request for an explanation. Scott shrugged, shook his head. He seemed just as confused, though Harvey had the feeling Scott was just putting on a show for Mike.
Mike finally left, going from confused to happy once again. When Harvey looked back at Scott, the guy was also smiling.
Harvey scowled. “What?”
“You just made that kid’s entire day,” Scott replied. “That was surprisingly nice of you.”
Harvey sighed deeply, starting to regret doing this. If he knew he’d be mocked for being nice, he would’ve kept being an asshole.
“Whatever. Don’t be so annoying about it.”
Harvey downed the rest of his coffee in one fell swoop. He exhaled deeply, satisfied.
“Alright, I’ve wasted enough time here. If I don’t leave now, my boss will have my head.”
Harvey turned and headed for the door when Scott called out to him.
“Hey, wait.” Scott tilted his head curiously. “Will you come back?”
“Probably not.”
Scott smiled. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”
Harvey rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Scott.”
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gumnut-logic · 5 months
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Whump!Virgil alert.
-o-o-o-
“Hold still!”
“I’m trying!”
“Virgil-“
“You’re holding it wrong.”
Scott sighed. His heart was still beating in his ears. After watching Virgil slip over the edge, caught in a rockfall, his circulation system hadn’t yet recovered.
Or the rest of him, really.
So close.
Don’t think about it. Focus.
“Virgil! I’ve got it. You’re going to be okay.”
“Not if you don’t hold it correctly.”
This could easily have been an argument over fixing Two down in the hangars if it wasn’t for the gasp in his brother’s voice.
And the several thousand foot drop off to their left that could have brought so much to an end.
“Virgil, do you trust me?”
Even in the frostbitten air between them and the reflection off his helmet, Scott could see the honesty in his little brother’s eyes as he drew in an unsteady breath. “Of course.”
“Then trust me.”
And without further warning, he lifted his brother’s leg and set it.
The scream that came with it cut his heart to pieces. “It’s-it’s done.” He focussed on scanning and then further immobilizing the broken limb. At least now it was less fodder for a horror film.
His thoughts were interrupted by a roar as suddenly, on the far side of the valley, half a mountain of snow slid down onto the glacier below.
Goddamnit.
He found himself bodily covering his brother, hovering over him as if to protect him from the world collapsing.
Virgil hadn’t noticed. His eyes were screwed shut and he was panting, sweat beading on his brow.
God, he wished the man would take the pain medication when he was told to.
Scott hovered there a moment longer, as the valley below filled with an avalanche that could never reach them. For some reason he did not want to move back. Pushing all his weight onto one arm, he reached out and clasped Virgil’s shoulder. “You with me?”
Dark eyes opened, filled with pain. More an exhale than anything else, “Always.”
“Good.”
And with that, Scott shut down his emotions and got on with getting his brother off this damned mountain.
To think that Virgil had dragged him out on this ‘simple’ rescue to get him away from Dad’s desk.
Scott was ever so grateful he had come.
Firstly, rich and privileged idiots should not be allowed to climb a mountain like K2, or any mountain bigger than an anthill for that matter, without sufficient training and experience. The idiots who had them out today were poorly equipped and would have died come nightfall after having an argument with their guide and wandering off.
It was the guide who had called IR. His apologies were extensive and frustrated.
But he was right. Scott and Virgil had found them mired in deep snow and, despite their protests, completely lost.
They were damned lucky Virgil was there. Scott wanted to give them a piece of his mind, particularly when they initially refused to leave the mountain. It was only due to Virgil’s patience – that would likely at some point result in a violent painting or mess of a composition on the piano – and using the ‘fame’ element of flying a Thunderbird and coercing them into coming for a ride that got them moving.
Yet it was also Virgil’s kindness that had him fetching the woman’s pack. Or more likely, she put up so much of ruckus, Virgil preferred to shut her up rather than kill her on the way to New Delhi, no matter how short the journey.
That return to the snow led to Scott spinning just in time to see Virgil slide over the edge as the rockface gave way.
A call to John that had so little words but cried out for so much.
The rest was a blur of terror and fear as Scott scrambled down the mountain after his brother. He didn’t have his jetpack. They’d left One at home. It was supposed to be a quick rescue. A bit of brotherly time together.
But Scott was ever so grateful for the time they were given due to a snow-covered ledge that had caught his brother.
The alternative…
He was willing to thank any deity that watched over them.
A broken leg, bent in blatantly the wrong direction, halfway up K2.
“You held it wrong.” The words were little more than a gasp.
“It’s done.” Scott drew in a breath and fastened the last of the splint velcro. “Alan and Gordon will be here any moment and we’re getting you off this rock.”
Shifting the remains of Virgil’s right boot aside, he sat down next to Virgil and let out a breath. “You’re safe.”
A sigh and Virgil’s helmeted head dropped gently onto Scott’s shoulder.
As a familiar and beloved roar swelled at the other end of the valley, he draped his arm around his little brother’s shoulders.
“Safe.”
-o-o-o-
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thesuperheroeater · 2 years
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The Superhero Hunt, Part 3: An 'Ant'-sized Meal
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(Request By @vorepred223311 )
The next day you wake up and head to the bathroom shitting the remains of the archer into the toilets. It took you some time, but eventually you end up filling them quite well. You wipe your ass and smile as you admire the fat the hero added to your behind. You put your pants back on and leave the restrooms. When entering the living you're greeted with a brunet you recognised from tv. It's one of the Avengers, Ant-man? You don't remember, but it doesn't matter, all you see is some food.
The man is surprised by your presence and asks why you're here and where Hawkeye is. You lie and tell him you're one of Hawkeye's friends, which the suited hero easily believes. ''Oh, nice to meet you!'' He greets you as he gives you a handshake. ''You know where he is? Because he asked me to come over to have a snack.'' You smile to yourself, the man was so naïve, such an easy prey. You understand that Hawkeye was planning to swallow the man, but we know how that ended. Well luckily for you, now you have a meal just waiting for you to eat. 
''He went down, but don't worry you'll join him!'' you tell him, as you grab him, pinning his arms the long of his body. ''What?'' The man panics, not understanding what you're planning to do. But it will change soon enough as you gulp his head down your throat. The man struggles as he's surprised by your action. But the struggle makes it only easier for you to shove him inside your mouth. You moan as more of the man slides past your lips.
Once you've got his abs inside, you raise your head to make it easier to swallow the man. As you gulp his abs and the arms alongside, you feel your belly inflate by the presence of the man inside. Scott Lang is still trying to find a way out and keeps squirming, begging you to release him. But his pleading makes it just more enjoyable for you. You take another gulp around the meat, till only his legs are left. For which you don't waste any more time to swallow. And some seconds later you're closing your mouth around Ant-man's booted feets. 
You rub your swollen gut feeling your prey struggling inside, squeezed between the walls. It makes you moan even more. You sit on the couch, enjoying your free meal. Inside the man is panicking even more as it gets harder to breathe. In an act of distress he activates his power and shrinks to an ant-sized man. Causing your stomach to deflate a lot, which you didn't like. You start rubbing your belly, shaking it, wanting the man to turn back to his normal size. Inside the man is shaked from all sides making him want to puke. As he starts to drown in the stomach acids, he reactivated his powers this time growing to a much bigger size than before. 
Your stomach is stretching unbelievably wide, accomodating to the growing size inside with your belly inflating more and more, growing into an abnormal size. Breaking the lounge table it was resting on along the way. That was a surprise you didn't see coming, but it was a welcomed one. The hero eventually hits the maximum size he can get making your stomach hit the roof. You moaned at the view. But the hero soon notices it was a bad idea, as he feels even more squeezed than before. When he wants to return to normal size, he notices he can't because his suit is also breaking down. He's crying as his bones are breaking and the acids are melting his flesh. Desperately begging you to release him.
The change in pressure inside your stomach makes the gas rise through your throat. Making you belch.
BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRPRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!
A giant-sized Ant-man helmet comes flying out, bursting against the wall. You smile to yourself as you feel your giant meal digesting inside. You didn't expect the man to turn so huge, but you loved the outcome. Now you're finally closing your eyes taking a nap on the couch, imagining how much fat the man will add on your body once digested.
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