#if they genuinely cared they would be organising and shit

[priniya]

🌊 ASSUMPTIONS

SYNOPSIS. jj maybank gets a little too involved with a kook for his friends’ liking, but he wouldn’t be jj maybank if he gave a shit. on contrary, you do and it bothers him.

NOTES. jj maybank x kook!reader. a little short + not proofread

you definitely underestimated how much things people assume on a daily basis. it had never bothered you before you got with a certain blond pogue — maybe, because beside your small friendship with sarah cameron (and an occasional hook up with her older brother), no one really cared. then you started hanging out with jj maybank and nothing was truly the same.

some people shamelessly assumed that your sweet relationship was strictly of convenience. maybank was with you for the money, giving you weed and fulfill your sexual needs whenever you wanted. some would say that you knew how rafe… wasn’t exactly a fan of pogues, so you hung out with jj to get back at the oldest cameron sibling.

on the other hand, hardly anyone reckoned that due to all that time you were caught spending together made you genuinely like him. no, you always had to have some kind of cruel reasoning for skipping school to smoke weed in the back of twinkie (and make out).

did it bother you? unfortunately, a little bit too much. your boyfriend just got into your room by the halfway open balcony door while you were scribbling down math homework on your ipad. your coursework was one of the small amount of activities that let you rest your brain and get busy with something so insignificant to your relationship.

jj knew you were subconsciously upset. he didn’t really have to ask — the uneasiness painted all over your gorgeous face. his long, distressed sigh got you out of trance. your eyebrows scrunched at the sight in front of you. how did he get there?

“tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours.” he muttered, face inches away from yours after having kissed you — too shortly for your liking.

“my brain.” you let out, hands going to the collar of his t-shirt, unsuccessfully trying to pull him into another of those sweet, mindblowing kisses. “jay.” a groan slipped from your lips as he refused once again and you felt like going insane, one night he says he can’t stop himself from kissing you and now he does? liar.

“let me rephrase the question, you brat.” his eyes rolled. “what’s bothering you so much that you can’t tell me?” his fingers brushed through your hair as you sat yourself in his lap.

“kiss me and i’ll tell you.”

“tell me and i’ll kiss you.” another groan left your mouth, earning a quiet chuckle from him. he was worried, but sending you over the edge was funny, hilarious even.

ten minutes. that’s how long the two of you sat in silence until you were ready to reveal the reason of your upset, thoughts organised and your forehead against his shoulder, while his fingers were tracing different patterns on your back, sending a shiver down your spine once in a while.

“i just— shit, it’s so stupid.” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “i hate that people think you want something particular from me or the other way around.” it’s there and jj couldn’t help but chuckle at your explanation.

not because he thought little of your worried, but because it was almost unlike you to be so bothered by people so insignificant in your life. “doll.” the blond cracked a smile, gently nibbling at your earlobe. “me and you, ride or die, eh?” jj’s smile only got wider, when you nodded. “let them assume whatever they want, why stop ‘em? you know your feelings and i know mine. this is the thing that matters. not gonna lie, though, if you were with me just for my weed or my dick, that would probably give me a god–complex. imagine that the hottest girl in the entire outer banks is with you, because you fuck her so well? jesus, i might get a hard–on right now.”

“you really can’t simply tell me that you love me, can you?” you asked with a smile lingering on your lips long before he finally pressed his mouth against yours.

“you know i do, doll. where’s the fun in that?”

#jj maybank x reader #outer banks x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #outer banks smut #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jiara #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank thoughts #rafe cameron x reader #niki’s works 🫂

[icallhimjoey]

Are you still taking requests?

If yes, I’d love to read about pure domestic bliss. Peak Soft!Joey! Things he does for us that make us go all speechless and love him even more. Little things like running us a bath when he senses we had a shit day, takes care of us when we’re home with a cold…things LIKE THAT!

I could really use that rn. <3

um, so, hyper independent reader not used to someone wanting to take care of us in the smallest of ways???? goooooooot it got it got it Wordcount: 3.3K

---

For You

You rarely asked for help.

Didn't need any.

Joe thought hard, but couldn't remember you ever asking him for anything. Or anyone else for that matter. You didn't ask for help in big ways, but also didn't ask for help in any of the small, little ways.

You did things yourself. Didn't bother people and, even though things took time and effort, and were sometimes a real bitch to figure out by yourself, you always did. Eventually.

Sorted through whatever on your own, because that's how you'd always done it. How your childhood had shaped you. What you'd gotten used to. Who you'd become as a person.

You took care of, well, everything. Were organised in ways Joe couldn't even really phantom a person being organised.

"What do you mean you just fixed my washing machine yourself?"

"Was just the little motor inside, I opened it up and it needed a little part replaced."

"What the..."

"Was easy. I watched some tutorial on how to–" you stopped, had to laugh at the face of shocked disbelief and somehow sheer annoyance he made and finished, "There's tutorials for fucking everything online, it really wasn't that hard."

Yea, Joe wasn't so sure.

"All right then, I guess I'll go and cancel the order I placed for a new one."

Because he would have never even thought of opening whatever panel on the back of whatever machine to have a look inside. To look up what he'd be looking at, and to get a screwdriver out to fiddle around inside.

It was out with the old in the the new far to easily with Joe.

Didn't go like that with you.

You took care of shit yourself. Were the person that people would come to for help. Because that's what you did. Took care of your own shit and helped others with theirs.

It took some actual getting used to for Joe.

Girls had never been like that before with him.

They'd ask for shit, would whine at him in a soft baby voice until he'd do whatever they'd asked. Sometimes it'd be cute, but it could be annoying as fuck too. He'd always cave, however, and it would somehow genuinely increase his well-being. To make someone else happy by doing a small task they asked of him. Fed his ego a bit. Upped the self-esteem a little.

And it wasn't that you didn't accept help when it was offered to you.

Not at all.

You just never asked.

It took weeks for Joe to learn that he'd have to figure out for himself what he could do to help. To take care of you sometimes.

It was why sometimes, when you'd be sat doing whatever paperwork needed doing, or answering whatever e-mails needed answering, Joe would silently wander around your flat.

Looking for things maybe he could do.

Things that maybe you'd left for a bit.

Joe wasn't big on cleaning.

Or organising.

But he could pick up clothes that were left discarded on the bedroom floor. And he could shove whatever products were left out in the bathroom into a drawer. Could open the dishwasher, dishes still dirty, but stacked all wrong, not leaving enough room for the rest that were left on the counter still. He could sort that out for you, no problem.

You always thanked him with a squeeze in his side, or soft kisses to smiley cheeks. Made Joe blush a little, knowing he'd found a thing he could do to help, to ease your load and make you happy.

Until one sort of weird Friday afternoon. It had just gone noon, and Joe received a weird text.

"quick q, did you say you had work today?"

Just things he had to read.

"they wont let me leave on my own"

What the fuck?

"Hey, what's going on? What do you mean they won't let you leave on your own?" Joe decided he needed immediate answers, and called in response to your texts.

"I'm fine," was the first thing out of your mouth, quickly followed by, "Don't worry. If you don't have the time, I can see if–"

"Answer my question, please." Joe cut you off.

"I... I don't know, I keep feeling– I'm dizzy. I lost my balance and fell when my foot got stuck on a threshold– I'm not hurt," you were quick to assure, not wanting to worry Joe.

"Did you faint?" Joe was already on his way out the door.

"No, I'm not lightheaded or anything. Just feel like I'm gonna be sick, and like, my eyes won't stay still. It's more annoying than anything else. Mary says I probably haven't slept enough, or something."

You sounded like it too. All annoyed. Frustrated by the way your body was letting you down in the middle of a work day and now had to ask someone to do something for you.

Had to ask your boyfriend to come pick you up.

Like that was the end of the world, somehow.

"All right, I'm out the door." Joe said, coat billowing behind him as his legs rushed him down the street. "Do one thing for me, yea? Don't fucking move."

Not like you could. Moving your head made you want to throw up. Maybe you just hadn't had enough water and were a bit dehydrated. Or a lot hydrated. You didn't know, but thought having water would be a good idea anyway.

You had little sips in the reception area of the office until Joe arrived.

"Hey," 

"You all right?" Joe crouched down in front of you, one hand on your shoulder, then on your cheek. He ducked his head to look you in the eye.

“Yea fine. Just dizzy when I stand. Or move. That’s all.” 

“She hurt her wrist,” Mary said loudly as she walked over.

You did a quick Joe, Mary - Mary, Joe, introducing them to each other. Joe stood up straight and they shook hands, exchanged polite smiles, and then turned their worried gazes back onto you.

“It’s fine, nothing serious,” you gave your hand a twist and turn to showcase how fine you were. When you’d suddenly lost balance, you’d braced yourself with your one free hand. It would maybe take a day or two for it to feel normal again, it had just taken a blow. 

"It'll sort itself out."

"Are you accompanying her the whole way home?"

"Yea, took the tube here, but," Joe looked at you whilst he fished his phone from his pocket. Unlocked it with his face and swiped to find the Uber app.

"We're getting an Uber back." 

Good. Yes.

You were glad.

You would probably feel just as sick in a car, but the hassle of escalators, tunnels, stairs, more tunnels, more stairs, the hot air but the cold winds, and just, other people... even just thinking of the whole process, of public transport, made black and white spots creep up behind your eyes.

Mary seemed glad too, told you to get some actual rest, to take it easy and to feel better soon as Joe helped you onto your feet and guided you out of the building.

You had to lean into him heavily, nausea gripping you by the throat as you walked down to where Joe said you'd be picked up in a minute.

Focussing strongly on putting one foot in front of the other and not moving your head around too much, your mind echoed left, right, left, right, left, right. You felt Joe's grip strengthen around your waist as the world kept pulling you to the side.

"Jesus, do we need to go to A&E?"

This wasn't the time for jokes. You were busy trying to generally survive. The lack of balance, the world spinning and tilting, was disorienting and didn't leave room for humour.

"Have someone look you over?"

Joe wasn't joking, though.

"No," you swallowed. A mistake. "I just need to lie down and be still."

Joe helped you slide into the car, then used his fingers on your jaw to tip your head back against the headrest. Held a palm over your forehead a second, making sure it stayed in place before he carefully got you into your seatbelt and shut the door as softly as he could.

Sitting still like this, it was okay. Head back, sat up right, no weird smells.

This was fine.

You told the driver not to worry. Lied and promised him you didn't feel sick, just dizzy, and prayed you wouldn't actually throw up.

Joe rounded to the other side and slid down the seat to be right beside you. Sat in the middle seat, and after doing up his own seatbelt, attention was back with you.

An arm pushed through behind your neck, curled around your shoulder as you got pulled in.

Resting your head on Joe's shoulder wasn't any better than having it upright and tipped back, but Joe used a large palm that covered most of your scalp and then softly scratched fingers into your hair.

That was better.

You closed your eyes when the car pulled onto the road.

Having the actual world move fucked you up way more than you thought it might do.

The light that moved as you drove still filtered through enough, so you turned your head and hid your face against Joe's arm. Found darkness and peace there, and took measured breaths. Tried to ignore how your brain felt like a carousel. Could still taste the coffee you had about an hour earlier.

"Just crossed the river," Joe softly spoke near your ear.

He was taking you home.

"Five more minutes."

When you arrived, Joe wouldn't let you get out of the car by yourself. Said, "Hang on, wait here," and rushed out to jog around where he opened your door. Then he turned, and crouched down. Got down on one knee, and held out his arms behind him to guide.

"Joe, I can walk,"

You'd never ask to be carried.

"This feels safer. Come on."

But Joe insisted, and so you slid from the backseat right onto Joe's back. Slung arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder. Closed your eyes again, which didn't really help the nausea, but it felt nice to pretend you weren't really there.

Joe walked with bent legs, never fully straightening his knees, and you got the smoothest piggyback ride you'd ever had, right into your flat.

Right into your bedroom, where...

"Oh, fuck,"

You looked up, peeked over Joe's shoulder and, you remembered as you saw it.

You'd stripped your bed that morning, threw all sheets and covers into the wash and had planned to make the bed later, when you'd get back after work. Would use the other set that you didn't like the feel of as much, but which looked nicer.

"Okay, sofa." Joe turned on his heel, spun too quick, and made you groan with discomfort.

"Sorry, sorry," Joe stilled completely. Waited a couple seconds. Said sorry again and then walked you over into your living room where he carefully lowered himself and let you slide onto your sofa.

"How are we doing?" Joe checked in, went to close the curtains to get the place as dark as it possibly could in the middle of the day.

"Just need to sleep it off, I think," you said, trying to control your breathing as you bent over slowly to take off your shoes.

Your hands got moved aside by Joe, who moved to sit down in front of you on his knees.

"Sit back,"

And so you did. Inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. Accepted that the room was just going to be spinning for a while, nothing you could do to make it stop.

Joe took off your shoes and gave both socked feet a rub before coaxing you to lay back.

Throw pillows got moved into place, a blanket got draped over you, and Joe felt something pang inside of his chest at the sight of you laying flat on your back like this.

You were a side sleeper.

Would always curl up into a ball, would pull your knees up all high that would get Joe in the back some nights. Most nights. Joe always had to turn around and move one of your legs to hook over his hip to omit the uncomfortable press of boney knees into his spine.

Joe had never seen you try to fall asleep on your back before.

"Need anything else?" Joe whispered, still hovering over you, now toeing off his own shoes.

Not like you were going to ask, were you?

If Joe wanted to take care, he'd have to ask you for what you needed.

You hummed, said, "Nothing," slung an arm over your eyes and then followed up with, "Quiet.".

All right.

Joe could be quiet.

It didn't take you long to fall asleep at all, thank fuck.

For a second, Joe thought of going back home. Leaving you to get some rest, ensure your place would actually be quiet. But then he thought of your bed, and decided, might as well make it.

Joe found a set of sheets, but knew it was the one you found a little scratchy. Then he found your washing, transferred it all into the dryer as silently as he could and then thought, yea might as well, when he saw you'd left the bathroom messy.

Joe tidied up.

Decided halfway through he could also cook later. Take on dinner.

What else would he appreciate someone doing if he couldn't move without holding onto a wall?

Lots of things.

He was going to do them all.

Joe moved around with intention, shuffled on his socks, did everything as quietly as he could. Still closed cupboards too loudly, and made himself wince several times. He would freeze and would listen if he could hear you stir, if he'd disturbed you.

Not a peep from you. Not once.

Good.

Joe found the fridge empty, then grabbed your reusable shopping bag and your keys. Would only be a minute.

Downstairs, he checked your mail, opened your little metal post box and found a slip for a delivery that you'd missed, for a parcel that needed picking up. Decided to do that too, because, why not.

When Joe got back and carefully went to check if you were asleep still, he saw that you'd curled up with both your knees pressed into the back of the sofa. Couldn't help but smile to himself.

Nearly three hours later, you jolted awake. Took a look around the room, frowning, squinty eyes, and tried to figure out what woke you up. Why you were on the sofa again. What day it was.

You could hear the oven close in the kitchen, and let your head drop back down onto the soft pillows from the sofa.

You remembered.

And you felt... better. Sort of... just fine. You noticed gravity was pulling at you just right again. Huge difference compared to before, when it got you from all different sorts of angles.

Shaking your head side to side, everything felt solid. Steady. And you were really fucking hungry.

"Joe?" you called, and had to cough right after.

"You're up!" Joe stepped into view, drying his hands on a tea towel and he... Joe looked windswept. Untamed. Disheveled and tousled, face all flushed. All smiley and excited looking.

"How are you feeling?"

The opposite of how Joe looked, but, fine none the less.

"Better," you smiled through squinty eyes.

"Yea? No longer dizzy?"

"I don't think so," you shook your head once more, to check. Felt fine.

"Feel sick?"

"No... I'm hungry."

"Yea?"

"Yea." you looked around, still a little dazed and, what was that smell?

"Good, dinner's in the oven." Joe made his way over, and took a moment to grin at you. Leant down and just grinned at you. You didn't know what was so funny, but Joe made you laugh anyway.

You still felt a little shaky when Joe kissed you. Small pecks. Then a long one. Another grin, followed by a suspicious frown from you, and then, more kisses.

"What?" you asked when Joe wouldn't stop smiling.

"Nothing. Just glad that you're okay. How's your wrist?"

You rotated it. Gave it a little shake.

"Bit sore, but not bad, thanks. And thank you for coming to get me from work, I really couldn't have– I don't know what happened, do people get their balance affected from lack of sleep, do you know?"

"Yea, I googled, and apparently, you can. So that could be it, but it also could be a million other things." Joe shrugged.

Hmm. All right. Well, at least you felt better now. Nausea gone. Vision no longer swimming.

"Want to take a bath?" Joe suggested, and you groaned at the suggestion.

"Yes,"

"Okay, be careful, the water was practically boiling when I filled it fifteen minutes ago,"

You gasped softly, immediately pouted.

"You... you already filled the tub?"

Joe's eyes twinkled.

"Babe, I did so much," he exclaimed all proud, and started going down the list.

Joe had done a massive food shop, picked up a parcel from the post office, cleared out the dishwasher, tidied the bathroom, folded the laundry and put it all of it away, made dinner, made the bed–

Joe had to stop when he saw your eyes blinking rapidly, eyelashes wet. You seemed overwhelmed, a bit.

"Are you..."

A sob wrecked from your throat and you immediately laughed, because you were well aware you were being silly.

"You're crying?" Joe asked, smiling, already pulling you in so you could hide your face into his chest.

"You didn't have to–"

"Stop, I know I don't have to. I wanted to. Believe it or not, sometimes people enjoy doing things for you."

People usually loved it when you did things for them, but, you loved doing things for other people, so you understood.

"You made the bed?"

You knew Joe fucking hated making the bed.

"Yea, used the nice sheets,"

"I put the others in the wash this morning–"

"No," Joe corrected. "I put those in the dryer and used those," Joe pulled back, tilted his head down enough to catch your expression. "The other ones are– they don't feel great, right?"

Joe saw your face scrunch up again and quickly tucked you back under his chin.

"Maybe just get rid of those all together,"

"They were an expensive–"

"I'll get rid of them." Joe said, knowing you probably never would yourself.

Unbelievable.

You didn't deserve Joe.

Joe would disagree and fight you on that, so you didn't say that shit out loud.

Joe held you for a bit longer, his affection pouring over you until it was dripping down the sofa and leaving puddles on the floor.

"Bath's getting cold," Joe eventually murmured into your hair.

"Thank you," you managed to croak out as you accepted the kisses Joe pressed to your forehead before he helped you up from the sofa.

He held wary arms out, ready to catch you if it turned out that standing up was still a task too tricky, but you seemed steady enough. Could walk towards the door without going sideways.

"You know what?" he said, hand on the small of your back, guiding you across the room.

"Get in the bath, I'll join you in a sec,"

You caught his little smirk as he looked at you over his shoulder, stepping closer towards the kitchen.

"With dinner." Joe finished, and, fuck off. That sounded like the best fucking idea you'd ever heard.

"Hey," you said, making Joe stop, and for some reason, you caught a flicker of worry in his eyes before they softened as you smiled.

"Thank you," you said again, this time more earnest than you'd done before.

Joe needed to know you were grateful.

"Anything," Joe started, squeezed his eyes shut tightly to bring his point across properly.

"Anything for you."

the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #for you

[moriartyluver]

Good day, it's me again 😌

Just a little question; how would William, Albert and Louis react to William's wife calling the other two "brother"?

Thank you in advance 💕

A/N: this is such a cute concept! Thank you for your request!!

Characters: William James Moriarty x fem! Reader, platonic louis & Albert x fem! Reader

Format: headcannons & scenario

Prompt: How would Albert and Louis react to William’s wife calling them ‘brother’?

Genre: fluff, comedy

Warnings: Death, murder, mentions of seduction, nsfw themes but nothing too explicit &mentions of poison. Reader is afab/fem, reader has William’s surname, reader and William are married & in an established relationship, William gets jealous but in a funny way, slightly OOC characters but it’s for the shits and giggles.

I think Louis and Albert would have been somewhat wary of you at first, especially Louis, however they trusted William’s judgment that you were indeed a good and kindhearted person more than anything and both learnt through various situations that you were right for their brother.

Whenever William would accidentally fall asleep with no warning throughout the day, it would be you who would first come to his aid before anyone draping a blanket or a shawl you were wearing over him and kissing his forehead as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Louis was often worried that William was neglecting himself and he had tried to confide that in you once. You told him it would be alright and that you would take care of it.

In a few weeks time, William seems to be a lot healthy than usual and he’s forgotten your promise to take care of him until he finds out from William that you have been insisting on sleeping with him due to ‘nightmares’ or that you can never finish a meal because you’d be bored without someone to eat with and your love for picnics out in the sun with lots of healthy food as of recently. That’s when Louis realised you really were his brother’s soulmate.

Albert could trust you a little more than Louis though. If you were a noble, he would have a general idea of your personality and your humble donations to various charities. He would have conversed with you multiple times before he realised you were seeing his brother with the intention of marriage.

Both the brothers didn’t really expect William to fall in love. He had plans to take down the harsh system of aristocracy , and he had no time to fall in love or start a family, so when he introduced you to his only family, they were surprised.

Still, they saw how William’s eyes would light up when he talked about or to you and the small smile on his face whenever you were around, how could his brothers not like you?

One of the disadvantages of being a noble who just so happened to have been married into the prestigious Moriarty family was that attending balls and charity galas frequently was a must. Thankfully, you had been free as of late and so had your husband and in-laws which meant you didn’t have to be the only one attending for the sake of showing up and all four of you could have a genuinely good time.

Of course, being a member of the ‘lords of crime’ organisation meant that crime never slept - and it had just as much energy as you did while at a fun party.

There had been one man in particular that was known to abuse his servants and even other nobles would criticise him on his harsh behaviour along with this, many people could tell of his obvious pining towards you and that only made William hate him more.

He had only recently inherited his fathers fortune and become his head of house in his 30s, so he was still enjoying the remnants of his youth. Thankfully he had stuck to his habit of attending every party and was here at this gala too.

William had gone to check up on both Moran and Fred that were to be used as back up for the plan you had set up alongside William, this time you being the main character.

Your lover was mildly hesitant to have you shoving your own tongue down another man’s mouth in order to transfer poison into his own, but with your reassurance, everything was settled.

“Lady (Last name)! What a pleasure it is to see you here!” Speak of the devil.

“And you too, Count Fenrich.” You smiled to the man who had now approached you while trying not to correct him on his use of your now maiden name rather than your husbands one, and noticing your (terrifying when jealous) husband had disappeared.

“I hope I’m mistaken,” he definitely didn’t hope “but it seems Lord Moriarty is nowhere to be found.”

You could already tell where this was going. That mischievous glint in the man’s eyes was undeniable.

“Oh, he is here, you must’ve seen him earlier. William has vanished into thin air. I can’t seem to find him in this sea of people.” You could see Albert talking to Louis in the corner of your eye, just as you had planned. You turned to meet their gaze and called out to them. “Brother Albert! Brother Louis! Have you seen William around?”

Brother…?

Albert was quick to recover from his and Louis’s shared stunned state. Louis was still flustered and confused though.

“He went to go talk to a few others and freshen up his drink but I think he went through the corridor. He might not be back for a while but I’ll let you know if I see him.” He said, coming closer to you while Louis nodded beside him.

As soon as you had left to a different location with the older male, Albert and Louis finally were able to comprehend what you had called them both.

“Brother Albert…she called us-“

“W-well it’s only normal that she refers to us that way considering we are her brothers in law.” Albert coughed to cover up his embarrassment. He couldn’t deny that both he and his younger brother were internally fangirling and giggling at the thought that you finally were able to consider them one of your own.

William had finally come back from checking in on the others (who were stationed in two separate locations that you had agreed to go into earlier to kill the count. They’d both been ordered that if it went further between you two, they were to kill Count Fenrich immediately.)

“Has she left yet..?-“ William asked before noticing his brothers’ red faces “what’s gotten into you two?”

“She called us her brothers..” Louis whispered

William raised an eyebrow. Surely he had misheard his baby brother “what..?”

“(Name) called us her brothers..!” Albert half-squealed as he grabbed William’s shoulder

William blinked then his lips shifted into a wholesome smile “is that so? I never would have expected this out of either of you..” the blonde chuckled.

Within a few minutes of William trying not to laugh too loud, his lovely wife had returned, shortly before Count Fenrich, who dipped when he saw william, despite being on the brink of death.

“There’s something so thrilling about ridding the world of devils in a crowed space-“ you muttered to yourself as you wiped your mouth with a silk handkerchief “oh? William! You’re back. What’s gotten into these two?”

“I think it’s best if we leave now..” William said, giving a signal to a butler-ified Moran “come along dear” he wrapped his hand around your waist, dragging you along while Albert and Louis followed behind.

“I’m going to have to wash my mouth out with soap when we get home..”

As you walked outside and stepped into the carriage, you could hear a scream ( someone had seen Count Fenrich drop dead lol) beneath the praises and (comical) cries of Albert and Louis telling you they were honoured to have you as their sister-in-law.

One of the advantages of being a noble who just so happened to have married into the Moriarty family was that you not only had the perfect husband, but also amazing brothers(-in-law) aswell.

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #sherlock holmes #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #mtp william #mtp spoilers #mtp louis #mtp albert #mtp x reader #albert james moriarty #louis james moriarty

[joesalw]

You really can't write this shit lmao...

TS's friend group consists of Miss 'idc about genocide and continue to employ a bloodthirsty zionist CEO for my makeup brand' and Cara D who's great grandfather created the Black and Tans which is a terrorist organisation that killed Irish people during the Irish War of Independence. A group that also sent their people to kill Palestinians in favor of establishing the state of Israel. Last night these 3 went to Ramy Youssef's (who Taylor probably met at the "Poor Things" premiere) comedy show in NYC and 100% of the proceeds would go to the Gaza relief fund. The thing is, Selena and Taylor are getting all the credit and praise for Ramy's activism. I've been a fan of her work for the past 10 years and her recent activities have turned me off of her completely. The turning point was that pathetic TIME interview.

I've always thought of her as this well-read individual who can masterfully express herself whether it would be public speaking or writing but I couldn't help but cringe while reading that article. She tries too hard to appeal to gen z and younger millennial crowd when she herself is practically pushing 40 atp. I feel like all of her 'intelligence' came from being around Joe Alwyn who's a notorious bookworm. The fact that she describes her Rep era as 'goth-punk' was the first strike, the 2016 hate train as a ' career death' was the 2nd and the whole patriarchy delusion she went into just hit the final nail in the coffin and I was like 'nope, not doing this shit anymore'.

I know that swifties have been comparing her to Beyonce lately saying things like 'well, Taylor writes her songs' or 'Beyonce can't read' and talking about how she doesn't give interviews so people don't know that she's dumb. And as a comparison I've found her Harper's Bazaar interview that she gave when she turned 40. And good God, I've slept on this woman for way too long. In the interview she talks about building her work ethic from an early age. The dedication of her life's decades (First decade was dedicated to dreaming, the teens were about the grind, the 20s were about building a strong foundation for her career and establishing her legacy, the 30s were about starting her family and prioritizing her own life over her career). She started her own management company at 27, in 2013 she started her charity foundation in which she helps hurricane relief, education, supporting minorities businesses, families with housing needs, water crises, pediatric health care and pandemic relief. She talks about expanding her business ventures beyond music industry, talks about setting boundaries in the world of celebrity culture, about her friends being a group of strong independent women, about the importance of mental health. She also says that she's most inspired by her parents ("My mother has always been my Queen and still is. She has always been so strong and is filled with humanity", "No matter how tired she was, she was always professional, loving, and nurturing."; "My father constantly encouraged me to write my own songs and create my own vision. He is the reason I wrote and produced at such a young age."). That woman is so well-spoken and genuine you can't help but feel warm while reading it and she doesn't feel the need of throwing unnecessary 'smart people' words to seem that way.

Reading Taylor's "Person of the Year" profile and Beyonce's 'Entering 40s' interview were completely different experiences. And as a result, one of them lost a fan and the other gained one. I wish Tree Paine would stop Taylor from giving these interviews because everytime she does, she comes across as tone-deaf, out of touch, mentally stuck overgrown teenager, try-hard bratty diva who can't stand being not the only one praised.

Anyway, I'd recommend to read the full interview and watching her new film. I've watched it yesterday and got the urge of turning my life around. That lady is truly such a light.

Taylor's friend list also includes 'Mr. and Mrs. plantation with slave cabins on the property wedding', 'a sex offender and a SA apologist as the newest addition', 'Ms. "I assaulted my own sister", ' an insecure and whiny music producer who likes to stir drama on Taylor's behalf'. And not to mention that she's dated a nazi this year and her newest flavour of the month is a fatphobic jock with a double digit iq, her father is also an avid republican voter. I think the people she surrounds herself with tell about her more than she does herself.

And concluding with two cents about Joe Alwyn. I'm glad she's out of his life. While I was a swiftie I've watched his interviews and he always came across as a very gentle, calm, well-spoken and a bit introverted man. And she's... well, her. I also think that she'd held him back in her job in regards of producers and directors not wanting their work to be overshadowed by 'Taylor's BF is in this' articles. I'm hoping he does more projects in the future or maybe dips his toes in writing and directing something because clearly he's a talented writer.

Sorry for the long rant, had to get it out of my system <3

I love reading your rants, keep it coming. they are so on point.

#anti taylor swift #swifties dni #joe alwyn

[astrologyx]

Golden era characters and their non sexual turn ons

WARNINGS: NONE, JUST CUSSING <3

Harry Potter

Well to be honest, Harry isn’t the most picky person when it comes to people he likes and is obviously more of a personality person. But, he especially likes bold people. People who stand up for themselves and say what they like. (at the appropriate time obviously) He used to never speak up for himself and seeing other people do it is genuinely attractive to him!

Ron Weasly

I think he really appreciate someone who laughs at all the jokes he makes. I think it’s because you laugh in general and you don’t realise that half of the things he says are said in a not funny way but you don’t judge him and think he’s funny. It really makes him less anxious or insecure seeing that someone finds him funny.

Hermione Granger

There is nothing that she likes more than an amazing listener. She thinks you’re so amazing because you listen to everything that she has to say even when she’s babbling on about something that she knows herself isn’t that important or shouldn’t be too concerning. She Especially enjoys it when she can talk about things that she enjoys without being judged by you

Draco malfoy

Competition. He fucking adores a lil bit of competition. something about someone trying to challenge him and either winning or losing and just being a little bit cocky about it honestly makes him attracted to them. Of course he doesn’t like losing, but if it’s to someone pretty that he doesn’t mind making them lose later on? Shouldn’t be an issue. there’s a big difference because he doesn’t like being defiled by being competed with? Perfect. 

Ginny Weasly

This might come off as a little bit shallow, but she definitely likes…sparkly things.  And by that I mean, new and shiny, popular people.  she is interested in the fact that everyone is interested in them, that people like them or find them friendly and interesting and funny so she likes a little bit of adventure and wants to find out more as to why people like you and takes is as a little ‘get to know’ challenge! 

Fred Weasly

 Oh how this man, loves a funny person. He basically jokes all the fucking time, so having somebody tell me a joke around with him and make him laugh or that he can make laugh. Would definitely make him lean in more towards liking you. bonus points. If you don’t say the same shit over and over again, he likes things pretty new and interesting and exciting.!

George Weasly

He definitely has a type for the, quiet church mouse type. He thinks that they’re cute and he wants to find out more about them and always wondered as to why people can be so quiet and shy. So he makes it his sole purpose to find out more about them and get to know them and possibly try and get them to be a little bit more than a church mouse hehe.

Neville longbottom

He has a huge thing for Nerds. Oh my goodness transfiguration nerd? He loves it. Defence against the dark arts nerd? He loves it. Herbology nerd? He’s literally gonna fall in love with you. He likes to know that people actually care about their education and have interest in things and are able to teach people new things. He also likes to learn things from people personally, so being alone with you and learning things new? Seems like you guys will be together sooner ;)

Luna Lovegood

I think Luna just likes somebody who is super kind, and I mean super kind, because Luna isn’t the type of person to get back at somebody for things so being with someone who takes revenge gets angry very quickly wouldn’t be her forte.  People who love animals, people who are kind to ghosts people who help others, just generally nice people, and then you got Luna wrapped around your finger.

Cedric Diggory

I think he’s really into organised and kind people.  People who know that they have to do their athletics and also have to do their homework and study for the test and are able to balance everything altogether all the time. He just thinks it’s amazing and he really appreciate someone who has so much stability in their life and definitely like to learn from people like that to.

#harry potter #hp books #harry potter ff #harry potter headcannons #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #the weasly twins #romione #draco imagine #aesthetic

[wormbloggign]

Glenn Chambers wore plaid pants with red and green, and a pink dress shirt, His belt bore a buckle with the PRT logo on it. His hair had changed too, parted neatly into what I assumed was ‘geek chic’, and the glasses had changed as well, with thick, round frames. An ID card hung around his neck. He didn’t fit any of those particular archetypes.

i love how shit his fits are. this man CANNOT dress. let him micromanage every aspect of your persona.

“Go, and hurry,” Glenn said.  “Tell them to fix it and cast another prototype before the run starts.  These are toys, they’ll be in the hands of children and collectors both.  The people who are buying these are fans.  What’s it going to say if their most immediate association with Esoteric is the broken toy sitting on a shelf?  It’s going to convey that he’s flimsy.”

ok thats just poor organisation, you'd have the base construction and elements of the doll figured out WELL before you start working on its visage. glenn has dropped in my opinion of him

“I asked to speak to you because I wanted you to know about the damage that’s being done.” “Ah, this is about the butterflies.” “It’s about a lot more than butterflies.  It’s the whole mindset.  The attitude of the heroes.  I’d talk to Chevalier, but he’s too busy.  I’d talk to Rime, but she’s recovering from being shot three times.  You’re the only other person I’ve met so far who really seems to be in a position to know what I’m talking about.  Besides, as far as I can figure, image and PR seem to be at the heart of the problem.”

she's back to her favourite pastime. (i genuinely love everytime she does this)

“The focus isn’t on lethal or nonlethal,” Glenn said. “It’s on whether we can trust you to keep on the path you’re walking. If you start taking shortcuts now, what happens a year down the line? If we decide you can go all-out in one specific situation, does that open the door for another?”

genuinely good point, good to see glenn is trying hard to properly vett new capes

taylor goes so hard as a monster i really do love it

“Until I turn eighteen,” I said, feeling a little hollow.

that's less than a year, you can handle that.

Chevalier approached.  “You murdered two people.  Three, going by your admission while in custody.  Two PRT directors, one major hero.  When Dragon and Defiant suggested we bring you on board, we were divided.  It was Glenn who offered the compromise that we ultimately agreed to.  This compromise.” I glanced at Glenn, who shrugged. Glenn?

glenn wanted an excuse to integrate hexagon tiling into NEW PRT advertising didnt he

“That’s why you’re waiting two years?  You think that it’ll take that long to vet me, before you can give me actual responsibility?”

two years? didnt she turn 17 around the time coil did his big bombing run? did she just forget?

LETS FUCKGIN GOOOOOO

that's genuinely horrifying, thanks

Mail from all around the United states.  From strangers, from fans. Words of support.  Criticism.  Death threats.

this is functionally the first time the general public has had the chance to communicate directly to her. yeah i expected as much

hes bumbling 🥺🥺🥺

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! what the fuck???

aishas doing great actually

lisa is lisa-ing

Atlas died.  I wanted to let you know.  Tattletale had him, but he wouldn’t eat or move.  We asked for him, and we found a place for him.  The guys say they think they know a good way to make a mold.  They’re covering him in brass. A way of saying you’re still with us.  Take care of yourself. -Char

MY BOY ;-;

silly goofy, rachels going through it.

overall, taylors polycule miss her and the others have their own thing

Withdrawing a notepad, I started sketching out the designs I was thinking of. Alterations to the costume, weapon ideas, tools and concepts.

!!!! !!!!

The costume Defiant and Dragon had given me was theirs, not mine.  The fighting style that had been dictated was Glenn’s and Chevalier’s. This, this would be me.

im gonna have to draw her new costume too when it get out arent i.

(we are pretending like im not incredibly excited about this development)

#liveblogging worm #Drone 23.3

[storiesbyrhi]

Vintage Reeboks - Chapter 4: Cemetery Drive

Eddie Munson x Reader More Eddie fics here

3427 word count

Warnings: Grief; drug use; cemetery setting; bad understanding of Indiana geography

Synopsis: The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.

Previous Chapters: 1 - Lover’s Lake; 2 – Hey, Siri; 3 - World Wide Web

Chapter Synopsis: Éowyn is no man and Eddie looks for Wayne.

Author’s Note: I genuinely regret killing Will in my previous chapter, and I am sorry. If I could take it back, I would. The following Tumblr users had suggestions for what post-80s music Eddie would like, and I thank them for their input: @sk8-wytch, @moonsomnia, @tenderyellowbluefics, @hocuspocuscrocus, @nushy, @mybuttonfelloff, and @nikiiwi.

The sun was setting as Eddie and Dustin ended their call. Golden hour bathed your pool house room in an orange glow. You watched the shadows move as you tried to work out what you were going to do with Eddie in the meantime. It was going to take the cavalry a few days to arrive; they had lives that required organisation, after all. It wasn’t like they could just skip out on class or curfew anymore.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

After he closed Zoom, Eddie opened Google. You watched him type in a name.

Wayne Munson.

“Wait,” you closed the laptop before it could load the results. Eddie looked at you, frowning. “Is that your uncle?”

He looked almost embarrassed.

“I didn’t want to ask Dustin ‘bout him… Whatever happened to him, it couldn’t have been good… Don’t know how I’ll… I don’t know. I just need to know,” Eddie said, trying to explain something he couldn’t put words to.

Maybe letting Eddie run free in 2022 was a bad idea. Neither of you knew how the whole time travel thing was meant to work. Loading Eddie up with information about the future, like how his uncle died, then returning him to 1986 might fuck up the timeline. Grandfather paradox or some shit.

Eddie was still looking at you, scanning your expression.

“I just left him there,” he said.

You broke away from Eddie’s intense eye contact, nodding. He went back to Google but didn’t know the best thing to search for.

“Here, let me,” you offered. He slid the laptop across the bar.

Next to his uncle’s name, you typed, Obituary. The local paper no longer existed and there were no archives. You couldn’t find a trace of him, so you turned to the last resort. Reddit. There was a subreddit that could find almost anything. It was not clear if they did so through legal means, but you didn’t much care.

“We’ll check in a few hours,” you said to Eddie after explaining the concept of Reddit.

He accepted it, walking away from the bar. He was quiet and too calm. You’d known him for less than twenty-four hours but even you could tell he wasn’t okay. It made you feel desperately sad.

Eddie sat on the edge of your bed, letting himself fall back. His foot began to tap against the floor, a nervous tick maybe.

“If you need to be alone for a bit, I can go inside-” you began, standing up.

“Can I level with you?” Eddie asked, staring at the ceiling.

“I guess,”

“I haven’t been this… pathologically sober in a while. It’s been,” he pauses to count. “Five days, man. And a couple since I’ve had a smoke.”

“Feel like you’re crawling out of your skin type of thing?”

Eddie sat up a little, leaning back on his arms. “You know the feeling?”

“I know the feeling,” you confirmed. “Ambien helped?”

“To sleep, yeah,”

“Lightweight compared to what you’re used to though?”

Eddie tried to hide his smile. “Just because I sell cake doesn’t mean I eat all the cake.”

You laughed. “Right, well, we can go get some… cake. One condition though,”

“Anything, for my knight in shining armour,” Eddie said, standing up only to bow dramatically.

“Yeah, it’s all that,” you shook your hand at his general dramatic energy. “That might help. I’ve got tomorrow off work too, but after that I’m gonna need a very good excuse to not show up Saturday.”

…

“Look, sweetheart, you keep shooting me down like this and I might get hurt,” Eddie said, hand over his heart.

“Sweetheart?!” you squeaked, looking over at him from behind the wheel of your car. “Well fuck, you’ve really perked up since you got your hands on that.”

Eddie looked down at the Ziplock bag of weed in his lap. “Something comforting about drug deals being the same. Baggies. Stupid nicknames,”

“Yeah? What was your dealer’s?” you ask.

“Reefer Rick,” Eddie said fondly. “Although… Would be happy not to see his place for a long while…”

You focused on the road while Eddie fell into his thoughts. It went on a little too long, the quiet unsettling.

“So… Still no good excuse then?” you said. All the ones he’d offered were hilarious, given, but probably wouldn’t gain much belief from your boss.

“You want an excuse that they won’t want to talk about. No follow-up questions. You gotta make ‘em sad or make ‘em sick,” he told you so eloquently that it felt like a rehearsed speech.

“Sick or sad?”

“Yeah… Sick is easy. Violent diarrhea. Acidic puke. Traumatic loss of body fluids.”

You laughed. “You know, my boss is a sexist piece of shit. I could probably say heavy period and it would work just as well,”

“Ah, a feminine touch,” Eddie said. “I like it… Your other option is sad,” he continued, frowning and pulling a puppy dog face. “Dead relative. Dying relative. That kind of thing,”

“Back to my boss being a piece of shit…”

“Right. Traumatic loss of body fluids it is… So, we better start the pain relief, for those cramps, yeah? How do you take your poison?” Eddie had his precious party bag open and he was inspecting each individual bud.

“I take it at home, not behind the wheel of a car. It’s not the 80s anymore,”

“No. No, it is not,” Eddie agreed, while he looked out the window at the unimpressive and still relatively small bright lights of downtown Hawkins.

As you pulled into Chipotle’s drive-through, Eddie almost looked like a dog who just realised he’d been taken to the park.

“Wow… Hawkins got fancy, huh?”

“It most certainly did not.”

…

When you had shown Eddie your small, glass pipe that was Hello Kitty themed, the look he gave you was priceless. He promised that he could roll the perfect blunt, so you let him. As you pulled out a couple of plates for your Mexican, you glanced over at him.

Eddie was sat cross-legged on your bed, a small tray out in front of him. He worked quickly. It was almost hypnotic.

You sat down opposite him and watched him assemble.

“I made you a playlist on, uh, Spotify… You wanna put it on?” he asked, his voice calm and gentle.

He said it so nonchalantly. Like it didn’t mean anything.

Why would it mean anything? You asked yourself.

Eddie glanced up, read your face, and grinned his toothy smile again.

“I mean, I would’ve made you a mixtape. That’s what we used to do, back in my day,” Eddie joked. “Love the convenience but it doesn’t really have the same magic, does it?”

You shook your head slowly. “No… But, thank you… That’s really sweet,”

“Don’t go spreading that rumour about me. Got a reputation of Satan-worshipping to maintain, you know?”

It was another joke, but the kind with a little pain behind it.

“I wouldn’t have believed it. If I was there, I mean,” you told him as you pulled your laptop over and found the playlist named Knight in Shining Armour.

The music Eddie selected was a mix of his favourites, your favourites, and bands he’d just discovered. Black Label Society you could appreciate. Rob Zombie, Alice In Chains, and Nine Inch Nails too. Mastodon, Opeth, Disturbed, Godsmack, and American Murder Party weren’t entirely your thing, but it tracked. It came as no surprise that he’d found System of a Down; he was a stoner, after all.

“BABYMETAL?” you noted. “Is that on there for me or you?”

“Both,” Eddie answered. “Saw them on some of your playlists, but I kind of dig it. Feels like an acid trip, man.”

Eddie offered you the joint, but you shook your head. “You go first. Seeing as you’ll die without it,”

He shrugged and lit it. You started to eat, and that’s how you both sat for a good while. Listening to music, swapping plates of food and the blunt.

When the food was consumed, you repositioned yourself sitting against your headboard. Patting the bed next to you, Eddie happily crawled over, not needing an extended invitation to get under the covers.

“Review of your first Chipotle experience?”

“Exquisite,” he replied, complete with a chef’s kiss.

“And the weed? How’s the ’22 strain going?”

“Well,” and he rolled his head over to face you, all floppy like a rag doll. “I feel pretty good for someone in my position,”

“Pretty good is good enough. This is gonna really up the serotonin though,” you say as you close Spotify and open a folder labeled Definitely NOT Downloaded Movies.

It took until Frodo arrived in Rivendell for Eddie’s hand to find yours. He traced patterns on your palms, sometimes letting his fingers trail up the inside of your arm. At “fly, you fools,” you let Eddie bundle you up in a hug. By Lothlórien, you were trying his rings on, holding them out like a newly made fiancé. Finally, when Boromir saved the hobbits, you played with Eddie’s hair as he rested his head in your lap, wiping a tear or two away.

“I can’t believe they went for it with the three-hour films,” Eddie said from the bed while you made tea.

“Yeah. It’s a bit insane to try to watch them all in one night, but-”

“You’re not bowing out this early, are you? The Battle of Helm’s Deep! Treebeard!”

By Gandalf the White’s reveal, you were sitting between Eddie’s legs, your back to his chest. As Aragorn fell to his not-death, and Eddie squealed, you realised that, speaking of screaming, you hadn’t felt the urge to internally scream in a while. The lake at midnight wasn’t calling you to that momentary oblivion.

When the Ents stormed Isengard, you rolled your head back and pulled Eddie’s arms around you more tightly. He rested his head on your shoulder and started to calculate the risk of maybe trying to kiss you. He pet your hair gently when you cried for Haldir. A Nazgûl, tricksy Gollum, and sad boy Faramir later, Eddie decided he was jumping the gun.

“Still with me?” he whispered to you, as he started the final film. Dawn would be breaking soon, but he couldn’t not see the ring destroyed.

You nodded into him, sighing happily, somewhere between awake and asleep and just really fucking content.

When the beacons were alight with a promise that Rohan will answer the call, Eddie tried not to think about kissing your neck.

Shelob, Andúril, Paths of the Dead, Denethor gone mad. You fell asleep. Éowyn is no man, Mount Doom, and Rosie Cotton. Eddie fell asleep, holding you close.

…

The Reddit notification was from a user, hist0ryhunt3r, who had tracked down some very old information. A typed version of Wayne Munson’s obituary had his death dated only two years after Eddie disappeared into the lake gate.

It read, Wayne Munson, 1945 – 1988. Son, Brother, Uncle. No public funeral held.

“That’s it?” Eddie asked, taking the laptop from you. “That’s all they wrote?”

“In that newspaper, yeah. It’s from somewhere near… Lindon, I think,”

“He must have moved,”

“Makes sense,” you said. You would have if you were in Wayne’s shoes. It was something you’d always wondered about your uncle; why didn’t he leave Hawkins if the place brought him so much pain?

There was a second attachment. hist0ryhunt3r had found a semi-recent map of a cemetery just outside of Lindon; there was a section where the graves hadn’t been digitally archived yet, and they were willing to bet Wayne would be buried there.

As Eddie reviewed the information, you got out of bed and checked your fridge for milk. As soon as you opened it, you knew it was bad.

“Alright, well, this milk is fucking gross. So, let’s do a day trip out to Lindon. Get breakfast and find your uncle. On the way back we can stop somewhere you won’t be recognised for groceries. Sound like a plan?”

Eddie looked over at you. You hated that sad, confused, wide-eyed expression. It made you worried for him. Even if it was a bit cute.

“Look, I feel like I’m pulling you into something here,” he started, getting out of the bed and walking over to you. You put the milk down and gave him your full attention. “Like I’m stopping you from living your normal life.���

He was compassionate, you’d give him that. Intuitive, maybe not so much. Eddie hadn’t seemed to notice that there wasn’t really a life blowing up your Instagram notifications, no to-do list stuck to the pinboard, and no people banging on your door.

However shitty and stagnant you felt your life was, it was nothing compared to the current trauma Eddie was experiencing. So, you did what you did a lot. You didn’t say shit.

Apparently, a simple shrug in reply wasn’t enough for Eddie.

“No...? Yes...?” he asked.

“Uhhh, no? No. I don’t have anything going on… Except work, but as we’ve established, I am more than happy to ditch,”

“Piece of shit boss,” Eddie said.

“Piece of shit boss,” you repeated.

He looked at you carefully. He was studying your face, trying to see something that would help him understand why you were so generous with your time, and space, and life. It wasn’t something he was used to, and therefore it would usually make him suspicious. But being around you felt… normal?

Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever felt normal.

“So, Lindon?” you asked, the weight of Eddie’s gaze burning you alive.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”

…

Once you’d cleared the Hawkins town line, you found somewhere to stop for breakfast. You were horrified to discover that Eddie was a waffles guy.

“They’re so dry,” you argued, pouring more maple syrup over your stack of pancakes.

“Nah, man. Only shitty ones. Good ones are crispy, but fluffy on the outside,”

“Like you?”

It had kind of just slipped out. It was so dumb and you almost blushed with embarrassment. But Eddie laughed. Of course, he did.

“So, what’s devil-worshipping in 1986 is just plain old crispy in 2022?” he asked, fitting another almost-whole waffle in his mouth.

“You admit it then. Waffles are just plain and old?”

He shook his head and pointed his butter knife in your direction. You didn’t know what it meant, but it made you laugh and that definitely made you blush with embarrassment.

The rest of the drive was calm, save for the heavy metal music and the jitter in Eddie’s leg that was screaming out for a cigarette. You didn’t smoke though, so he didn’t want to either.

You would take turns playing a song, giving each other an education. Eddie was impressed at the broad range of music you liked; you couldn’t be pigeonholed and that was cool. You were impressed at the depth of knowledge he had about the bands he loved, considering he didn’t have the internet.

Around lunchtime, you stopped at a McDonald’s in a town neither of you had heard of.

“It’s weird… that this still tastes the same,” Eddie said, eyeing his burger with distrust.

“Yeah. It doesn’t, like, break down either. Just kind of goes hard, I think? Mummifies,”

“Mummified Big Mac,” he replied, his eyes narrowing even more.

Outside, as you unlocked your car and watched as Eddie walked along in front of you, you noticed a shop across the road. Vintage and Thrift a sign read in faded retro paint.

“Hey,” you called to Eddie, pointing to the store. “Should we get you some clothes?”

You’d always loved combing through the racks of op shops and vintage stores. There was obscure vinyl to find, and old band shirts that probably were donated on behalf of unknowing dads across the U.S.

The one you and Eddie found yourself in was split into two sections; unsurprisingly, there was the Vintage side, where things were overpriced and retro at best, and the Thrift side, where it was always hit and miss.

You located Eddie looking through the box of vinyl marked 80s: Rare. “If I knew how much some of these would be worth, I might have taken better care of them,” he told you, holding up a Metallica record.

While Eddie was assessing his net worth, you found him some Levi blue jeans, a red flannel button up, a bootleg Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, and a very well-loved Gremlins t-shirt that would probably swim on Eddie but you were willing to guess he loved Gizmo.

“Oh, shit! I could not get enough of this little guy. Gotta say though, Spike was my favourite.”

…

The cemetery gates were huge, ornamental. They set the tone perfectly, and as if on cue, Eddie went still. Pensive. Anxious, maybe. It was easy to find the older part of the grounds; the grass grew longer there and the graves didn’t have bright flowers nor small colourful wind spinners.

“Um. So, do you want to start at opposite ends? Divide and conquer?” you asked softly, looking over at Eddie in the passenger seat.

He glanced out the window then back to you, then hesitated to speak. You waited patiently, watched as his lips parted then closed again. After a few beats, he asked, “Could we look together?”

Soft. You felt absolutely gooey for the boy.

“Yeah. Of course.”

As you approached the first row of graves, you held out your hand. Eddie took it quickly. It’s weird; you typically weren’t the handholding type. It’s not that you particularly disliked it. It was more that you felt awkward, like your walking was affected. Or you’d be worried about having a sweaty palm. And if there was a height difference?! Forget about it.

It wasn’t like that with Eddie. Your fingers sat threaded through his, easy.

Weaving between the rows, looking for the familiar name, you lead the way. Eddie was quiet, and you realised – not even looking at the graves. He was scared.

When you found Wayne eight rows in, almost at the center of his row, you stopped.

Eddie took a deep breath in then looked down. He crumbled, only managing to hold in the emotion for a split second. You let go of his hand as he fell to his knees, putting his palms flat against the plaque and leaning forward. Between the sobs and the whimpers, you could make out words. Eddie was saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

Your nose started to tingle and your eyes stung with tears.

Did he need time alone? Or would he prefer company? You had no idea what to do, but before you could decide, your body was moving. Keeping your hands in your pockets, you stood right behind Eddie, close enough to touch him.

In response, Eddie moved from kneeling to sitting cross-legged. He leaned back against your legs, his crying quietening down, like your touch was grounding.

“He is… was… so good to me,” Eddie said, wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket. “Took me in when I needed a home. Gave me the bedroom in the trailer… He sleeps on a fold out bed. Every day. Just so I have my own space,”

“He sounds like a good man,” you responded.

“He is. He never believes the shitty things people say about me. Never judges me… He’s cool, ya know? I think… I think he taught me to be myself. ‘Cause he’s a bit of a freak too. He has all these mugs and caps. Like, I’m talking hundreds. He has so many there are some packed in boxes because there’s not enough room for them all. His favourite is the Garfield mug. Always can tell when I've used it.”

Eddie talked until he felt like passing out.

When you got back into the car and passed through those gothic gates again, the sun was beginning to set.

“We’ll get you back to him,” you told Eddie. He nodded. “And, uh, I brought something for you. Just in case.”

Having reclined his seat back a bit, he rolled his head to look at you. “For moi?”

You nodded to the glove compartment. 

Eddie cackled. “You know me so well,” he said, holding the joint up.

Later that night, after the long drive back to Hawkins, after pizza and Spinal Tap and Deathgasm, after something that was way too close to cuddling for Eddie not to fall in love, he fell asleep in 2022 for the third time.

End Note: P.S. I love My Chem. P.P.S. Loved the behind-the-scenes photos of Eddie’s possible outfits. He would have rocked that red flannel.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things Fanfic #Mine #Eddie Munson/Reader

[whatvilecreature]

TELL ME ABOUT VIVIENNE

YES! OKAY! Viv's an oc I have in a universe with @tg-headcanons, which operates by their headcanons about the garden - wherein children from the garden, such as Arima, are actually half-ghouls without full expression of ghoul traits. As such, they possess high physical ability and are often sought out or bred by organisations such as the CCG to raise as soldiers. More info below the cut bc I went on a RANT

Viv is one such half-ghoul, born to a ghoul father and a human mother, whose parents were murdered by 'ghouls' when she was around four or five. Of course, the CCG, which had been keeping tabs on her family, were behind the murders, but when Vivienne wandered into the scene, she was told they were murdered by ghouls. Being far too young to remember all the details, and far too traumatised to question, she spent the rest of her childhood years in a CCG orphanage (such as some of the children who were sourced for the Oggai in :re). She was groomed from a young age to want revenge against ghouls for the unfair death of her parents, and due to her ghoul heritage, swiftly outstripped the other children. She was accepted into the CCG as a low ranking investigator at age fifteen, and it spiraled from there. She became obsessed with the notion of revenge, rising through the ranks and killing more and more powerful ghouls, hoping to get to the one which murdered her parents.

At the present of the story, she's Vivienne Mallory - the American branch of the CCG's top investigator, working on Project Headlights, an investigation to take down a rank SSS+ ghoul named Roadkill (ask tg-headcanons about Ahiga eheheh). Despite her killing prowess, though, the years of being trained just to kill have left her living like a hamster. She doesn't have many interests outside of work, or friends, being quite socially challenged and appearing naive. Outside of the actual work itself, she's quite unassuming, the kind of person you'd gloss over. She cares deeply for those she holds close, and tends to put the rose-coloured glasses on for them - as is the case with her coworker Jonah, or the fact that the ghoul she's hunting is lying right under her nose. She genuinely believes that the genocide she's helping commit is a beneficial thing - not just for her, but for keeping those who she loves safe. She's blissfully unaware of even her own discomfort within her living situation, and of any greater issues, but at the heart of it, if she were allowed to grow up normally, she never would have caused so much harm. It's a concept she has to grapple with once she finds out about her heritage.

She's very much got the demeanor of a quiet, slightly strange woman you'd see working at a run-down second-hand bookstore. Genuinely a nice person with a bit going on behind the scenes, until you realise her job is slaughtering innocents with fervor you didn't think possible for someone like that.

Other Viv facts include -

she lives in a one-bedroom studio apartment and sleeps on a mattress straight on the ground. she's happy like this :)

She has a budgie named Bruce (after the shark in jaws) whose cage is somehow cleaner than the entire apartment WITH his shit in it

she loves sharks. so much. her one hobby is re-watching her favourite shark doco over and over.

She's a dyke and eventually falls in love with a ghoul who was OBSESSED with her (also tg-headcanons' oc)

I don't have any recent Viv doodles but here's some from my uni notes. she's very round (fun to draw)

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul oc #I love viv. she sucks

[theinfiknight]

On a similar vein as the other post, here is a list of top ten Bleach characters who fuck the LEAST, in descending other of how little they fuck. Again, this is based on vibes alone and not canon.

10) Renji

It's not that he hasn't got game!!! Renji is pretty hot, all said and done. It's just that he would probably collapse into a quivering wreck or straight up run the fuck away if anyone so much as looked at him romantically. Man could not muster up the nerve to ask someone out to save his life. This is a man who is forever doomed to want and be wanted without anything ever actually happening.

9) Urahara

This man is a human wreck far too traumatised to allow any genuine human connection, on top of being generally less organised than your average five year old. He'd respond to any interest by making a bad joke and then backflippng away. He'd probably break down into tears if exposed to any actual intimacy.

8) Byakuya

Wet blanket ass mf with the personality of a wet paper towel. Whatever charm he had died with his wife. If you asked him what his hobbies are he'd probably say some shit like "meditation" or "taxes". Anyone who initially thirsts after him in Seireitei immediately withers up inside after a single conversation. Itachi Uchiha ass mf.

7) Captain Unohana

Iirc she's a 1000 years older than everyone else except kyoraku, ukitake and genryuusai. And besides I don't think she'd be very interested in that sort of thing. Again though, this is just vibes.

6) Kenpachi Zaraki

This is the face of a man who does not give a single fuck about sex. Gokupilled Zorocore king. All he cares about is whether you can put up an entertaining fight. I very much doubt he'd give the time of day to anything else.

5) Ulquiorra

Hi my name is Ul'quiorra Quarto Espada Arrancar Cipher and I have powerful ebony black reiatsu (that’s how I got my rank) with purple streaks and green tattoos that reach my chin and icy green eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like L Death Note (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Aizen-Sama but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m an arrancar but my hollow is smooth and round. I have pale white skin.

4) Kurotsuchi Mayuri

This man is a sex offender. He's on every registry that soul society has. Anyone with ANY self preservation instinct keeps far far far away from him. When he dies, I sincerely hope Nemu is the one who gets to kill him.

3) Chad-kun

Gay but more repressed than Sasuke Uchiha. This will never change.

2) Soi Fon

Girl, she doesn't like you back. She is never going to like you back. Get over it. Move on. Find something to do with your life.

1) Ichigo Kurosaki

Aroace king. No further notes.

#bleach #renji abarai #kisuke urahara #bleach ichigo #kenpachi zaraki

[castielcommunism]

there are certain opinions I have about cas’s character that are textually ooc but would have to be true if you took his plotline as one of the MAIN CHARACTERS OF THE SHOW seriously

like cas is a character who has to justify himself to everyone all the time. he’s an angel living on earth, which is already remarkable, and on top of that he’s an angel who rebelled. the last time anyone heard of something like that happening, Hell was created. he rebelled for completely different reasons of course, but now he’s forever going to be known as the guy who fucked up even worse than lucifer because he destroyed heaven when he did it. every angel he meets for the rest of his life will be his enemy on some level. he is completely and permanently alone. and he knows that it can’t be any other way because given another chance, he would still make the same choices that led him here.

which uhhh leaves a mark on a person lol. cas is grumpy but there’s no complexity to it. give it some texture! add some genuine resignation with the rest of the world for constantly having to explain himself. his intentions, his motivations, his goals. he’s bad at communicating and he has to do it all the time. and what he’s attempting to explain is extremely complex and requires a lot of nuance and care. he doesn’t just have to explain why he’s an angel on earth, he has to justify his own existence every time someone meets him. he’s an angel who doesn’t follow orders and doesn’t believe in the will of heaven - a cosmic contradiction. and a lot of cas’s humour is based in self deprecation, so on some level he finds this all very funny. yes im an angel no im not very good at it as you can see.

the great thing about cas is that you can make him a world weary idealist. he believes the best in people and wants to be an active agent for good, but at every turn he’s been structurally prohibited from doing so. he’s a character trapped in perpetual tragedy. and despite that he’s still a true believer! his decision to rebel was not made because he, individually, wanted free will, but because he believed that rebellion was the only correct moral decision to be made, and that any angel in his place would have to make the same decision if they really understood what was at stake. like ironically cas’s individual rebellion was done for a much higher purpose than himself. his rebellion, and the reason for his rebellion, is an argument that there is a higher moral authority than heaven itself, and heaven is in conflict with that moral authority.

but they don’t explore any of that shit in the show. he’s just an idiot who keeps being tricked by people because he’s too naive to realise that the world is bad and cruel and petty. he’s positioned as this perpetual dolt who doesn’t learn the deeply cynical and reactionary lesson the show is trying to impart, which is that people are just bad, fundamentally. and what’s especially frustrating about this is that you can still make cas a naive idealist without this framing. he’s attempting to reorder the way heaven and angels are organised, something that no angel, much less him, has any experience in or knowledge on how to do. of course he’s going to fuck up and be bad at it. it WOULD be interesting to explore all of that, how cas over time becomes a bit more discerning in how he makes decisions and who he trusts without ever losing the awkward grumpy idealism that forms the core of who he is. but they don’t

#cas.txt #cas studies #i need a tag for angel stuff #soooo mad. so mad

[thefirstknife]

While I 100% agree that if people aren't having fun they should take a step back/quit, I don't like the "if you're not having fun just go find another game" argument because it's so often used to shut down actual legitimate criticism from people who are otherwise enjoying the game but want genuine problems to be addressed. (I've seen it, for example, when people try to bring up bigotry in games and suggest maybe making some changes to remove it. I always get wary when I see people say it now.)

Oh yeah absolutely. There's real criticism that we have to be able to point out and discuss. A lot of the times people use this for any minor criticism someone has and I agree, that's often a way to shut down the conversation. Criticism in general is supposed to come from a place of love: you love something and you want to see it be better.

Unfortunately, in this case, when the community turns into ONLY negativity and criticism, it's kinda hard to believe they care about the game anymore. If people still had some positive stuff to engage with and were enjoying the game but had issues, then sure. But most of the negativity online right now is just purely rage bait. Bungie apparently has no redeeming qualities, and Destiny is dead. Misinformation is spreading about everything: all devs abandoned Destiny to work on Marathon (claim with no source that's accepted as fact and makes no sense: Destiny is the only game making them money, they can't abandon it before Marathon is out. Like, logically), monetisation is the worst in the industry (I genuinely don't believe that they play other games if they think that Destiny's monetisation is the worst in the industry), Bungie is maliciously banning people for fun (????) but also Bungie isn't banning people enough, Bungie is maliciously making server issues and didn't develop a "fix server" button in their office, game development is easy and Bungie is just lazy and the devs don't want to tell us anything because they're evil, Destiny is falling apart and nobody is playing anymore (just trust me bro), and most recent one which is possibly the most baffling of all - Bungie Foundation is a scam to write off taxes. Yes, that is currently discourse (which apparently gets recycled every year). Bungie Foundation, a charity organisation that's been going on for 13 years and is an independent registered organisation, is a scam. This is where we're at with the community mentality. And there's even more.

When we're at this point, it's truly something else. Like, if they believe conspiracy theories about Bungie and think Bungie is scamming them, maybe they just shouldn't play the game anymore. Why are they still here if they think this is all a scam? I would drop the game if I believed any of this so strongly.

Normal people having criticism and all is perfectly fine however! I did my fair share especially recently about the season pass pricing changes which I called a predatory practice and still believe it is. There's a lot more stuff to complain about while still enjoying the game and not basing your entire online existence and personality on hating Bungie. If they've got nothing else to do besides sitting on twitter shitting on Bungie, maybe it's time to move on.

I've also had my suspicions about the motives for hardcore Bungie hate after the incidents involving transphobic attacks on Bungie devs following the LF showcase, as well as all the crap about Nimbus and their VA. Given the recent developments about the general anti-LGBT+ mentality, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a contingent of people who are focusing on Bungie more than anyone else for how outspoken they are in their support for LGBT+ causes. Like, not to do some big reach or something but it's fairly curious that gamers online are adopting the anti-LGBT+ sentiments while Bungie is aggressively supportive. It just rubs me the wrong way that the one company that's committed to this and has been for years before most other companies jumped on the bandwagon is the one that they're choosing to paint as the worst villain. And the LGBT+ support isn't even all, as Bungie has other initiatives where they actively support women's right, reproductive rights, poc rights, disability rights and so on). I don't know, I've been a part of the gaming community for a long time and while there's been massive changes since the early days (and since gamergate days), the issues of bigotry in gaming remain. It feels particularly suspicious to, out of ALL companies, single out Bungie which invests in charities and progressive causes. Like, in the grand scheme of things, every corpo is robbing me blind, I know that, I have to give money to corpos to live on this Earth, so I at least want to give it to a corpo that considers me to be a human being and funds causes that promote my rights, instead of wanting me dead.

Ironically, all of this weird hate makes it harder to have actual normal criticism. It just gets drowned and lost in the sea of exaggerated bullshit and lies and conspiracies perpetuated by people who just don't seem to like the game anymore. At the end of the day, it's a video game. Whatever criticism we have, if it gets to the point where we just can't handle the state of the game, the best way to show it is to simply stop playing. A deluge of harassment on twitter will not bring about meaningful change nor will it adequately convey our criticism to anyone. If they truly want some changes, they would do this criticism in a way that matters, instead of creating a horde of angry gamers who will latch onto every lie and create a hate bandwagon.

#destiny 2 #bungie #long post #ask #i def agree with the premise of the ask btw. if that isn't clear #not all criticism is just meaningless rage #unfortunately it's harder than ever to parse through the bullshit to find it #and like. if this leads to less monetisation or something. sure. I'd like that too #but the methods being employed here are literally only hurting community managers devs and the community itself #the marketing board of execs at bungie who decided on monetisation aren't reading twitter comments #going at bungie won't solve the problems of capitalism #you gotta join a different cause to do that my working class siblings #check a discussion on the industry from thiccest_yosh on twitter (he's a bungie dev) #he specifically called out monetisation ruining art as well as misinformation and rage being spread by CCs #refreshing to see this being said directly and publicly by someone who works in the industry #and one more note on the bigotry stuff that made me bitter about aztecross and his stupid video the most #aztecross played supported and promoted hogshit legacy. this big 'anti-corpo warrior' #funding one of the biggest bigots in the world who actively works on trying to kill as many people as possible. totally fine i guess #'it's just a video game.' but with bungie it's life and death apparently #it makes me super bitter and suspicious. especially given how many CCs were in on misgendering characters #i dont trust any of these people. they're a business and when the business is bigotry they gladly participate

[queerofthedagger]

Why did you do so little to promote fics or, really, the whole Sandman big bang that you ran? You kept promoting Merlin fic fest while Sandman big bang was running. And yet you barely did anything for it! If you lost interest, why not relegate it to somebody else? There are a number of wonderful fic writers and fanartists who did not get even a fraction of the recognition they deserve because of your own shoddy organisation. And yes, I do know we all do this in all our free time blah blah, but you created this event, and promptly ditched it in favour of another fandom. This is bad fandom ethics, and I think you need to know it.

oh careful babe don't choke on that bitterness you're gurgling there.

real talk for a second because usually I don't answer this kind of shit but let's go there for a moment:

I did reblog SO much sandman bang promo, the round up posts, the masterlist several times even. I did not reblog every individual fic because, and this might be shocking to your sense of entitlement, but even as a mod, I do not read every single fic. i'm not obligated to; you can start paying me if you want to, then we can come back to that point and I'll read whatever you put in front of me. until then, I will keep my preferences while doing my hobby, thank you very much.

The Rare Pair Fest only started up during, like, the last week of the Bang. I've been running that bang for half a year. And i don't know what makes you think that one fest's promo would take away from another fandom's fest posting but ????? it does not. Also people can be multifandon. I get that might be complicated to integrate in such a narrow perspective on fandom, but idk how to explain to you that people can have multiple interest beyond like. touch some grass honey?

Lastly, we did, in fact, promote every single collaboration on the blog and in the server. Individually, again in round up posts, and again in a masterlist. I don't know where you get the idea that we didn't. I don't know where you get the idea that we lost interest, or organized things shoddily. Bangs, and fests in general, don't guarantee you recognition. No one fucking owes you recognition, in fact, not me, not a fandom, no one. And whenever you manage to take a moment away from being an irritating fucking nuisance in other people's inbox, maybe you should rethink your approach to fandom as a whole because you're clearly having issues, and I don't mean this as a burn but as a genuine "this clearly does not bring you joy and maybe you should find things that make you happy instead." You're welcome.

And yes, I do in fact do these things in my free time. Meanwhile you don't even have the courage to put your name to your lil bitch fit. Get better soon.

#answered asks #anonymous #mona rambles #discourse #fandom wank #i'm sorry @ everyone for putting this on yalls dash and i know justification is both not needed and pointless but jesus fucking christ #the Entitlement #also i know this isn't the point but. the merlin fandom had me LONG before the sandman fandom ever did if you try to be a smartass #at least get your 'facts' straight girlypop #anyway

[quellmythirst]

Week-long Seminar- Day 1- Arrivals.

Summary: You and your Boss head to New York for a Military and Science Con. She's the Keynote speaker and as her assistant you attempt to keep her organised. Meanwhile the guy you have been not so casually seeing every time you are in the city for the past few years tries his hardest to distract you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Billy Russo.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Me not knowing shit about what the fuck a seminar is, swearing, oral, fingering, kissing, semi-public, SMUT. 18+ Minors DNI

An: I've had writers block for a bit now and this stupid little project managed to help. So plz enjoy.

“Miss van Dyne! Miss van Dyne,” you call, chasing after your boss while she storms her way through airport security. You grapple with both of your luggage, attempting to keep up with her, “Please just give me a second,”

“We’re going to be late,” she huffs, spinning on her heel to face you. Her face falling when she sees just how much you’re struggling to carry all 6 of the bags, “Here,” she says, leading you to a quiet alcove and placing one of her weird circle things on them, “That should make them easier for you to manage,” the bags immediately shrink into your hands, “Now stop fussing, we can’t be late,”

Staring down at the now palm sized suitcases, you shake off the shock. You had seen her and Dr Pym do this a million times, but it was always amazing. How they were able to do that you would never know, mostly because no matter how much you asked they had refused to tell you. Shoving the tiny bags into the pocket of your emerald coat, you race to keep up with her, “The car should be here,” you gaze around the stopping bay, ignoring the beep of your phone in your pocket, “That's the one,” you say pointing to the large black suv.

“Well, let's go then,” She says, opening the car door and all but shoving you inside before she steps in behind you, “have you got everything ready?”

“Yes, everything is set up for the presentation. You should be able to start as soon as we arrive.”

“I can’t believe our flight was delayed.” she sighs, “I’ll have to go right in, my speech was meant to be at 11 and it’s already 10:20. Would you be able to take everything-”

“I’ll get everything set up in your room, while you give your presentation-”

“And my dress?”

“Will be ready for you when you return,”

“And can you-”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll go over the notes for tomorrow as well,”

“Good work, don’t know what I’d do without you,” she smiles genuinely at you, handing you 3 more of those circle things, “When you get to our rooms, put these on the bags and they will grow again. But only-”

“When the door is locked, I know Ma’am.” your phone beeps again and you ignore it, knowing the kinds of things those messages contain. You don’t want Hope to even glimpse at them, she’d probably think you were some depraved lunatic. 

Xx

You arrive at the Baxter building and the place is a flurry of people running around. Some hurrying around doing errands, other people hauling large crates of what you can only assume are weapons or experiments. Military and scientists alike flooding the cold New York street. Staring up at the cloud covered skyline you start to miss the sunny California sky that you had left 5 hours ago. 

Photographers surround Hope the moment she exits the car and you give her a small nod to let her know that you will take care of getting you both situated in your rooms. You dodge through the crowd, quietly slipping the cases needed for her presentation into her suit pocket before heading into the building.

You waste no time unpacking, marveling at just how well these little size changers work. You feel your feet start to cramp when you finish unpacking all of Hope's items, even going so far as to press her dress for the tomorrow, in which you were expected to accompany her from meeting to meeting with benefactors and grant recipients.

Checking your key you notice that your room is only a few down the hall, probably so she can keep you close in case of any sort of organistional emergency. When you finally finish unpacking your own suitcase, exhaling deeply as you fall back, your head resting into the couch. You pull out your phone, turning on some loud music to distract yourself, thinking that maybe you could just scroll for a while or at least until Hope needs you again. You’re just about to open Hinge when you notice the message icon in the corner of the screen, shit. You had totally forgotten about the messages.

No Number: Conference week isn’t the same without you. 

Attached was a picture of HIM, his hard cock throbbing between those long, strong fingers, his head red and swollen and almost dripping with pre-cum.

No Number: Come on, Baby. You know it’s me. Reply. I want to play.

Gods, this man was going to be the death of you. Rolling your eyes, you decide to keep the name blank, lest your boss find out that you’ve got a personal phone that she doesn’t know about and even worse that you have been seeing Billy Russo, (the CEO of a military based company that she hates,) for a few months now. Though you only ever meet up at these boring conferences. Well, that's not totally true. There is maybe a bit of light phone stuff and dirty texts. Not in person though. No, in person it could only happen every few months, when you were both on the same side of the country. 

You shift from the couch and flop yourself down on the large plush mattress, thinking about what you're going to say.

What would you like to play? 

Not wanting to give away the surprise that you were here. Or that you had maybe been too busy to actually tell him, this was Hope's biggest event of the year and you had been run ragged trying to get everything in order. But you knew it was only a matter of time before he saw Hope and would know you were somewhere around, she never went anywhere without you.

Hide and seek

Who is doing the hiding? 

You.

Me? 

I’m going to find you. Be ready.

Fucking hell, this guy. He really knows what he's doing to you, doesn't he? You check the time and see it's still a few hours before dinner and you actually need to leave the comfort of your room. You take some time to go over and reassess the data for Hope's next presentation in two days checking and double checking the stats. Then you move onto the notes for the meetings tomorrow with investors and some of the grant applicants, not stopping until you’re sure they are perfect.

Xx

“Ma’am,” you say, knocking on Hope's door at 6, “Are you ready?”

“Running a bit late,” she says, you hear a male voice echo in the room, “make an excuse for me,” 

“Not a problem, tell Mr Lang I say hi,” you call, turning and making your way down to the dining room.

Huge, is the first word that comes to mind as you enter the ornate art deco style hall of the Baxter building. Suddenly aware of just how tight your dress is as people stare at you, you grab a glass of champagne hoping to hide behind it as you search the room for a friendly face.

Unfortunately, someone else spots you first. Approaching at a rate that makes it hard for you to turn and run, “Ah, Miss Winchester, is it?” Justin Hammer asks you, his gross energy making you feel ill the moment he steps towards you. His overpriced and over-saturated cologne burns your nostrils, the gel in his hair makes it look slimy and the posse of over-jacked idiots attempt to swarm around you before you step back and shake his hand.

“Mr Hammer,” you say, your eyes nervously scanning the room for an out. Anyone who you can palm him off to. He attempts to hit on you at every single event you’ve been to since you started working with Hope. And without fail he forgets your name. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. Maybe it was an act to seem disinterested? Either way it pissed you off. He starts talking. No. Not talking, ranting at you. About Pym Industries, how they were useless and how he would love to have you on his team instead. How you wouldn’t be just some woman's assistant, no you could run a whole team for him. Yuk, you could feel the vomit in your throat bubbling, unable to speak or open your mouth when he tries to inch closer to you.

“There you are!” Pepper calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “how are you? I was just telling Tony about your breakthrough analytic system, he can't wait to meet you.” she ignores Justin's protests as she leads you away, “You alright there?”

“Yeah, thanks for the save,”

“You’re welcome, It was true though, Tony does want to hear all about your new system,” She leads you around the room and you are grateful to your friend for helping you out. Happily informing Mr Stark about your project, falling into easy conversation with the pair. You’re been happily chatting to your friends when you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance up and see nothing. Weird. 

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you still feel those eyes on you. The hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you approach the room just off the hall. Are you going mad? Maybe? Hopefully you’ll feel a little better after you get some water on your face.

“Found you,” a deep voice whispers in your ear as a hand wraps around your arm and pushes you into the bathroom. The loud click of the lock echoing behind you, “told ya I would,” he reaches for your face pulling your lips into his.

“Mr Russo, this is highly inappropriate,” you smile into his lips, his legs walking your back into the counter.

“Missed you,” his lips trail down your neck, his hands pushing the hem of your dress up your thighs.

“MMmm, missed you,” your fingers twine through his hair, tugging his head back so you can kiss him again.

“I need,”

“What do you need?”

“Taste,” his fingers slide into the band of your panties slowly sliding them down your thighs, sticking them in the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Yes,” you moan, arching to move your ass onto the counter.

“No Baby, turn around. Lean over,” his hands press into the back of your thighs. His strong hands, spreading you as he dips in fingers into you. “Fuck, so wet for me,” You shut your eyes soaking at how wonderfully his fingers tease you, slipping out and spreading it down your thighs. "Been too long," he moans as your hips jerk back, trying to get his fingers closer to your pulsing pussy.

"Was only 6 weeks this time,"

“Open those eyes,” he says, watching you in the mirror as your face contorts with pleasure with every stroke of his fingers when he teasingly parts you, his thumb flicking softly over your clit. 

Your eyes snap open when his fingers finally dip deeper into you, still teasing and only slightly stretching, watching the lust in his eyes as he kisses down your throat. Pulling his fingers from your now sopping pussy and brining it to hip lips as he sucks them dry, “Fuck I need more,” he whispers, “keep quiet and keep watching Baby,” he says kneeling down behind you his tongue swipes through you. Flattening, he licks at you, drinking down your juice. Sucking your clit into his mouth, nipping, lathing and worshiping you on his knees. Thrusting his fingers into you, curling until he reaches that squishy spot inside your soft walls.

“Fuck, Billy,” you quietly moan, clasping your hand over your mouth to keep those sounds in.

“Good girl, those noises are just for me. Don't wanna share you,” his fingers don’t stop pumping into you when he stands, teeth latching onto your pulse point, “I want to watch to,” he smirks into your neck.

RING RING

“Ignore it,” he says, but you can't help but be distracted by the interruption.

“Boss,” is all you can manage to get out when his other hand wraps around your throat, forcing you to look up at him.

“Don’t. I want you to cum Baby,” he goes even harder, moaning into your mouth. His hand tightening, his thumb pressing hard circles into your clit, vibrating your insides with absolute pleasure.

All thoughts of Hope vanished, when his teeth latch onto your ear, your eyes locking with his in the mirror and you saw the lust in that beautiful deep dark abyss , “Cum,” he somehow manages to say and you feel sparks zap through your body, sending tingles all over, making your legs fall out from under you. Billy catches you in his arms, helping you sit up onto the counter when you finally stop shaking.

His lips meet yours in a soft gentle kiss. You reach your hand out to grasp the long and hard length that was hiding in his trousers. Needing it, you’d be craving him for weeks. With all the fucking pictures, videos and fucking voice memo’s he’d been sending you, fuck you needed more. “Billy,” 

“No, not today,” he murmurs, stepping from your reach, “Why didn't you say you were coming?”

“Wanted to surprise you,” you try to reach for him again, “Please,”

“You don't get that today, only good girls get my cock,” he winks, “You had better go see to Hope, don't want her thinking your up to no good.”

“See you tomorrow?” you ask with a hopeful, desperate gleam in your eye.

“Maybe, if you’re good.” he steps out, leaving you alone. 

You sit there, your breath still uneven as you try to piece yourself back together in the dimly lit bathroom, when a message dings on your phone. Was he just joking? Was he inviting you up to his room?

Miss Van Dyne: “Can we go over tomorrow's notes before you go to bed?”

“I'll be up in a second”

Day 2- Meetings.

Taglist: As always let me know if you want to be added to either this specific list or the everything one. Many loves.

@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @profoundme444 @misstimeless @restingbitchsblog @nyctophiliiiaa

#billy my beloved #billy russo fanfic #female!reader x billy russo #billy russo x you #reader x billy russo #billy russo x female reader #the punisher fanfic #billy russo x reader #Weeklong Seminar

[twopoppies]

I feel like I need to be genuine about this because I'm getting a bit tired about people being overexcited and lash out on the ones who aren't and then talking shit about this doc with their friends, in groupchats, on private accounts... (btw it's now about solos, larries, antis, I've seen literally every single part of the fandom behaving like this)

So, I was pretty devastated about the doc being out in cinemas because I know 100% they aren't going to show it in my city and I can't go to another one because I've got uni the next day.

And now I'm not, because I'm not excited as I was days ago about it.

And even if I want to try and go see it, I can't because I know nothing, no ticket prices, no idea at what time it will be, nor in what theaters in the big city, and so many people are frustrated because they just can't organise anything, and of course tickets will be gone in an instant.

There's no promo, and the whole being honest and telling my story feels pretty fake right now 🤷🏼‍♀️

I love Louis and if they somehow end showing the doc in my city I will be seeing it but as things are right now I won't be too heartbroken if they don't , that's all I was trying to say 😂

I don’t know what tf Louis is doing as far as this documentary is concerned. No one outside of the fandom knows anything about it. As you say, there’s been zero information about where/when the film will be showing. Fans want to see it, but his team isn’t making that easy to do. I don’t think it’s only being shown for one day, is it? Is that what they’ve said? Maybe you won’t get tickets for the opening day, but if you want to see it in the theater, I would imagine you’ll be able to get tickets. And if not, seeing it via streaming service is really just fine. But I do get what you mean about circumstances making less upset than you were at first. 🫤

One thing I never understand about Louis’ fans is the way some of them attack people for not being a fan in the right way. You’re not talking about him enough. You’re talking about him but you’re talking about the wrong things. The way you talk about him shows you’re not as excited about him as you are about Harry. You’re not posting the exact same amount of Louis as you are Harry, so clearly you don’t really love Louis. This morning I got yelled at in my anons for not posting about the teaser that dropped which meant I clearly didn’t care about him, but I’d literally just woken up and was answering my anons before going on my dash. It’s fucking exhausting to feel like I’m being micromanaged by insecure lunatics.

[subzeroparade]

i don't usually read fic, but when i do, it's this author's fic

anyway thank you for your latest fic it oof hopefully i retrieve my ao3 account and comment on it properly but for now just please be aware that your writing makes people feel things to the extent they turn into incoherent puddles also, if that's not too much trouble, would you care to share your thoughts on the approximate timeline of events leading up to the creation of the healing church? i for some reason always assumed that it formed into that powerful organisation sometime after laurence, er, died (and his death being the foundation of the church) but then many other events do not fall into place or should i better look out for your larger healing church fic? anyway, thank you so much again

Haha amazing, thank you for this. My intent is always for my writing to “make people feel things to the extent they turn into incoherent puddles”. 

I’ve heard multiple versions of the “Healing Church only became a Big Deal™ after Laurence’s death” theory, which is interesting itself, so sure, why not. Personally I like Laurence’s political savvy and Machiavellian manoeuvring too much to disregard his role in the Church’s rise and fall, at the very least until the Burning of Old Yharnam and creation of the Hunter’s Dream. In my own timeline, the events of the Fishing Hamlet trigger, in part, the decision for Laurence & Co to break away from Byrgenwerth, in conjunction with the eventual results of their covert experiments with Healing Blood, now stable and useable on the masses. Between that and the Healing Church at its peak are a few years of struggling to prove the Blood’s potency in Yharnam proper, rubbing shoulders with politicians and gentry to attract wealthy patrons willing to fund their research, and secretly recruiting (while distancing themselves publicly) from Byrgenwerth, which at this time, post-Fishing Hamlet, is all about eyes eyes eyes. 

I love the idea that the Church comes to power, holds it comfortably for at least three decades or so (during which the Cainhurst massacre happens, the Choir is founded/Ebrietas is discovered, Mensis breaks off as an independent institution, etc etc). And then things begin to unravel and shit goes from bad to worse real fast.  

I’d like to maybe work through some of this in future fics after chewing on it a bit more. Also I genuinely appreciate other folks’ headcanons as a source of inspiration even if they’re vastly different from mine. 

Ty for taking the time to read the fics, it’s always super appreciated •ᴗ• Here is an on-topic young Byrgenwerth-era Gehrman in a Fashionably Oversized Coat, just because. 

#ask #lore #bloodborne #bloodborne fanfiction #gehrman the first hunter

[itgirlgyu]

fav authors?

surprise to literally no one i actually don't have one because i don't read much in real life, (like the ones I ever bought in real life were horror stories compilations) but i really like sarah hogle's humor, and rick riordan oh and!! diana wynne jones!!!

i also like humayun ahmed's short stories and anuja chauhan's novels ( funfact i read all of them) are my guilty pleasures tbh.

never forgiving red chillies for ruining the zoya factor by casting sonam WHEN THEY CASTED MY BABES DULQUER?!? (ik im going off tangent lols)

now now COMING ONTO THE REAL DEAL!!!

my favourite author is my inspiration, my muse, my mentor, my lover, my best friend—my rahrah!! no like fr tho i don't think i would have taken up writing seriously if it hadn't been for her. i got into writing as a means to like extend my overactive imagination onto somehwere so i didn't care about making it sound coherent or like organised until i met my favourite author. i read her stuff and it made me realise ah well fuck i gotta pull my shit together and took a hiatus from writing while trying different genres ( i had never wrote a drop of angst before that) and tried to replicate her writing by reading dozens of romantic era poetries because when i tell you her writing is literally flowing poetry while heavily based on action. like. you're behind the camera with her as she effortlessly narrates what is happening ad though youre experiencing it herself. it's safe to say ill never be able to reach her level but i geneuienly feel so blessed that i can call her my best friend and send my stuff to her bc like i dont think world recognition would as much her word does to me.

now onto TUMBLR,

who else other than @wildernessuntothemselves i had stopped reading on tumblr becase everything I was reading was getting boring and so many people were deactivating, UNTIL I stumbled across like this one drabble of yeonjun from them and oh my GOD WHEN I SAY SOME EMOTIONS WERE UNLOCKED IN ME it's like i had opened this whole new fucking chest of wonderful things—this is when i realised how much into dark stuff i am. and I feel like I really clicked with their writing because their dark writing, the obsessions and themes stems from the things like love which is like the best kind of motivation ever lmao ( it sounds so weird trust me im not a coherent person) and SO I READ ALL DO THEIR WORK, and again and again so i finished the loser lover series, the enhypen series they had and it was during yaqmn when i realised im into this shit for like i was SO FREAKING INTO IT like beomgyu is my favourite character ever from them ( close second to taehyun in hogwarts au sshhhhh) but yeah yaqmn made me realise that i wanna stay on tumblr but like also interact with them and be active in my own writing endeavours. also the author gave legit introduced me to so many cool authors with similar writing tropes and I am so so so thankful that I have found this side.

@hyewka gotta thank mort for introducing me to THE WONDERFUL WORKS OF rana like fr tho, like from the first story it was a hit on the nail on me. i love love love the way rana writes so so so much like they way they articulate their works, the whole situation and the emotions and their TROPES AGH CHEFS KISS. i love that their works are so long because it leaves room for me to see the development between the two characters making it feel so much worthwhile when they fuck in the end lmao like even their toxic works ( BRO HOW DO THEY ARTICULATE THEIR TOXIC CHARACTERS SO WELL) LIKE I'm literally always in awe bc it doesn't ever come off surface level? it's always so so detailed in the plain sight like whatever fucked up shit they do it notion they have it comes off genuine like this person isn't a caricature which is so hard to pull off. i can only ever wish to ever plot a detailed one shot like rana.

@itz-yerin the angst queen fr she is. okay but i know yerin is quite literally famous for her angsts( I'll come back this later) but what drew me to her stories were the fluffs. as someone who doesn't write fluffs because i feel i come off phony ( wow go off edgelord) but dude i read works and the way it's crafted with so much simplicity and love that you genuinely feel the love the characters have for each other and its done in the most mundane situations of life and i love that so much!!!

and her angst too omg, like i think ive never seen anyone tumblr yet use the trope she does in her angst and it's such a wonderful touch that makes me wanna keep reading ans ik most of her works don't really have a happy ending but it creates such a bittersweet ending that leaves this biting feeling in your heart. yerin truly the queen of hurt-hurt genre.

@channoticedmeuwu i know i haven't read much of kai's works YET BUT BRO listen the drabbles that ive read from like the flow of them genuinly makes me believe it's like those pretty lores and fairy tales that you are meant to narrate out out. the vocabulary choices and the way she structures her sentences gives me so so much joy like a number of time. ive literally sat there in awe rereading her sentences again and again. ALSO PACING!! the pacing makes me feeling like I'm walking the character, sometimes they way it indulges you into storyline is literally so magical. i swear to god i wish i could write like that man it's so so so soooo pretty!!

@ox1-lovesick was legit gobsmacked by sav's writing the first time i read them. it's so beautiful, and it's like so soft that makes you feel like. you have something swirling on the pit of the stomache—the fluff is so genuine and it doesn't come off performative at all WHICH IS LIKE SO FUCKING HARD TO DO?! bc you're reading stuff so you feel like ah yes I need to make them look like they are in love BUT NOT SAV even if it's the shortest passage the way they write genuinely makes you see the love the characters share and im out here shoving a pillow in my mouth or SHOVING IT IN THERE TO STOP laughing like THEY ARE SO FUNNY?!? SO FUCKIN FUNNY LIKE THEIR ONE LINERS GET ME SM OR SOME SHIT THEY WRITE LIKE got me giggling and cackling like a witch.

i actually don't read much but I'm trying to change that so when that happens this list will get WAY MORE LONGER!!!

#damn this got too long