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#it made me write fanfic for the first time in my writing career
spaceshipkat · 2 years
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congratulations! you’re now a pirate. your seventh most recent emoji is the symbol on your flag. mine is ™️
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nottheweirdest · 2 years
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Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask
😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?
✍ Do you have a beta reader?
🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.
🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉
💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?
🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?
⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?
🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?
🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?
🍷 Do you drink and write?
🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?
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💖 What made you start writing?
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❌ What's a trope you will never write?
💲 Would you ever open commissions?
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🏆 What's your most popular fic?
🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?
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🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?
📈 How many fics do you have?
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👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?
💞 Who's your comfort character?
🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.
🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?
🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?
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✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?
📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?
⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?
🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?
💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?
💥 How do you feel about criticism?
🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?
🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?
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moominsuki · 1 year
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THE DRIEST SPELL OF THEM ALL (7.1k) — bakugou katsuki x f!reader
✎ᝰ you've only been in a relationship with bakugou for a short while, but you can't help but think it's strange that you haven't had sex. guess it's time to change that.
࿄ ! warnings — nsfw, straight up penetrative sex, established relationship, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, lots of praise and feelings, bakugou is a sweetie pie, not a safe space for minors, reader is a college student and bkg is a pro hero.
/ note. this is my first, long fic and i'm so excited to share it with you guys. honestly was so fun to write and it has a lot of plot but who is uma if she doesn't have loads of self-indulgent dialogue?? anyways minors please do not interact with this and to the rest of you, please enjoy my very smutty fanfic.
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to bakugou, the first time you and him have sex happens out of the blue. the relationship is relatively new and fresh - only around three-four months in. you do think it is kind of weird that you guys haven’t crossed the line of actually doing the deed.
you both have tiptoed the threshold of making out and soft touches. like when he came over to your place and you both made out after dinner together. you offered to put on a movie - just a random romance flick that you don’t seem to remember now; considering the tension in the room could’ve been cut with a meat cleaver.
just three months ago, it had been your third date and you’d only passed a few light touches and long hugs at this juncture so when he put his hand on your bare knee, it was game over. you pounced on the blond and kissed him for as long as your breath willed you to. it just probably was not the best idea for you to try to undress on your couch.
“is it alright if i take this off?” you say, going to grab the hems of your light pink shirt that wasn’t doing enough to cover the hardness of your nipples. bakugou nosed at your jaw and kissed at your neck before he bit back a groan at this and rested his hands at hem of your skirt before nodding.
“fuck, you don’t gotta ask me, princess. just do it.” your hands slipped under your shirt and revealed underside of your boobs - which bakugou was ready to smooth his hands over until the footsteps of someone approached your living room.
“hey y/n- oh my GOD. i am so sorry oh-” and the footsteps are heard running to another room before a SLAM! echoes in the distance. you had not anticipated that your roommate would be arriving home so early but then again, common sense would have told you to go to your bedroom.
alas, it was too late. the mood had dampened significantly and bakugou awkwardly made his way out of your apartment - failing to look at you or your red faced roommate. he did, however, send a text apologising to the both of you and by the next day, everything had seemingly been forgotten.
the sexual tension had not been forgotten.
there would be many more days where you and bakugou would get hot and steamy before being interrupted by his friends, or a phone call coaxing him back to work, or the fact that the both you were super busy. he was an up and coming hero and while your career wasn’t as demanding as your better half, you were a busy college student: with assignments piling by the day, leaving you with little time to do anything with your boyfriend… which left you both sexually frustrated and unsatisfied… until now.
“there’s so many hot guys here. i should really pick you up more often,” sighs mina happily as she waves at a guy on your campus.
“mina, you are literally a pro hero. you could find a guy way hotter than… the guy who literally sits behind me in my pharmacy class. and he’s a stupid fuckboy, by the way.”
“good thing is i have a thing for stupid fuckboys,” she smiles and you roll your eyes. “but enough about meeee,” she drawls and you groan out loud, “what’s up with you and mr dynamight?” you both reach a red light and she turns to wiggle her eyebrows at you.
“nothing. well, not nothing - we’re fine. just fine.”
“you guys haven’t had sex yet?”
you splutter indignantly and mina taps onto the steering wheel and nods empathetically.
“what- when did i even imply that-”
“a girl always knows when her friend hasn’t done the do with her boyfriend yet. always. you’d be glowing and bubbly and happy but here you are… low-key awkward, not glowing. you don’t have that post-sex first time glow-”
you yell over her ramblings, “okay, OKAY, i get it. fine, we haven’t had sex. but it’s not like we - i don’t want to. it’s just time and finding the privacy to… fuck. and you literally work with katsuki. you know how pedantic he is about his work and his free time.”
“so you’re saying he doesn’t want to fuck? or that he’s avoiding you?” quizzes mina and it’s your turn to sigh, albeit a little sadly.
“i don’t think he’s avoiding me but whenever we get to the point of just doing… it, something happens and now he just doesn’t really initiate it? i don’t know if it’s because he just knows we’ll be interrupted or he just doesn’t want to anymore… am i overthinking it?”
mina parks her car and stares straight on to fully digest what you say before nodding.
“no you’re not - but this is BAKUGOU we’re talking about. he’s not your average guy. have you seen the way he looks at you? it’s like he wants to eat you every time you enter a room. like genuinely i have never seen a more feral man so this is very surprising news to me,” ponders mina and you laugh a little at her admission, kind of grateful for it. before you can say anything, she turns to you and grabs your shoulders.
“i have the perfect idea! we’re having a party at the agency tomorrow night and you should “go.”,” she gestures with finger quotes. you look at her strangely and raise a brow.
“I should “go?”” you copy her gestures and she nods vehemently.
“are you catching my drift?…” you shake your head in confusion and she rolls her eyes, “jeez, okay, look, i’ll remind bakugou about the get together and i’ll tell him that i told you about it. he’ll invite you and when the day comes, you guys just don’t go.”
“we don’t show up? but why-” the cogs in your mind turn inquisitively before you put two and two together at mina’s wiggling brows and you “ohhhhh” in mutual understanding.
“you know, that’s not a half bad idea. as long as you can everyone to not question our absence…”
mina laughs, offended a little at your quip, “y/n, baby, lovely. when i make a proposition, i tie up all the loose ends. it’s just up to you to find the right time and place. you get one evening to sort your sexual tension out. after that, it’s smooth sailing. and i prayyy that you do. have you noticed that he’s been really pent up? bakugou’s angry but he’s like, exceptionally angry, these days-”
“if you’re trying to insinuate he’s mad because he’s sexually frustrated, i have no answer to that. and we’ve been sitting in your car for almost 20 minutes now. we probably look crazy,” you note and mina sighs and nods before grabbing her things.
“you can avoid this conversation but when he taps that, you will tell me all about it and i will not accept no for an answer.” you hum indifferently and make a mental reminder to make up a story if the night that entails will be as raunchy as you hope it will be.
when mina drops you home, bakugou sends a text.
katsuki: y/n, did mina tell you about some dumb thing we’re doing at the agency?”
you smile at that.
you: yeah, she mentioned it. why, are you thinking of going?”
hook…
you tap your toes expectantly as you see the bubbles disappear and reappear.
katsuki: don’t really want to but they’re gonna force me to, so fuck it. you doing anything tomorrow night?”
line…
you: nope, don’t have any plans. why?”
katsuki: you wanna come with as a date? you’ll brighten up the shitty place.”
sinker.
you squeal at your phone and collect yourself to reply.
“sure, kats, I’d love to go with you. you can come over to my parents place so we can get ready together if you’d like.”
“you busy right now? wanna call you.”
he doesn’t wait for you to answer and it rings. you often think you got lucky for having such an easygoing and pliant man and today cements your beliefs as you go to pick up his call.
ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ
the day of the party seems like a long one. you made sure that your parents would not be home for the weekend - while it’s terribly unsexy to fuck in your parents home, the chance of your roommate bombarding your sexy time with your boyfriend is too high of a chance to risk and you’ve spent more time than necessary thinking about what the day would entail.
now that you’ve shed your pyjamas, you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror. your orange panties are doing nothing to hide the outline of your kitty and you’re definitely certain that the bra’s purpose was purely just encase your boobs in a rune of bright orange and white.
“i’m never letting mina pick out lingerie for me again,” you sigh as you poke and prod at the pieces. of course mina had to pick out the most raunchy, provocative and immodest pieces known to man. you’re pretty sure you could see the colour of your nipples sticking out of the material. you were somewhat questioning whether this was a good idea. what if bakugou thought this was too much? would he even like this? you definitely should’ve asked him first-
katsuki: on my way. will be there in five.
of course he texts you right at this moment, breaking you out of your horny driven and frantic stupor.
now that you really think about it, when you recall all the time you’ve almost been with bakugou, it makes you close your legs together to calm down any heartbeats ruminating between your legs. it makes the situation of not actually having sex with him yet even more heartbreaking - you want the feeling of his hands running down your body, his lips nipping at your lower belly, down to where you really want him. it makes you wonder what position he’d fold you into, if he’d press you into the mattress and make you cum till you were shaking and crying…
you inhale deeply and run around your home to do a few, final touches. you felt like you were a teenage girl all over again - faffing all about the house and praying that your parents wouldn’t come home and notice that your boyfriend fucked you into your flowery sheets. and you hoped bakugou wouldn’t just yet notice the strong smell of his your favourite perfume and the orange lace clinging onto your ass and boobs underneath meticulous layers of less attractive pyjamas. is this what they call reverse psychology? it’s no time to ponder when your boyfriend knocks on the door and you practically launch yourself downstairs to greet him.
you have to bite back a moan when you see him. seeing as this was a relatively fresh relationship, you both agreed that you wouldn’t always obsess over seeing each other. the last time you saw bakugou was two or so days ago and you make a mental note to throw away that line of thinking when you see your boyfriend in all his glory.
he’s wearing his typical grey joggers and hoodie combo (the one who looks the most biteable in) and he pushes down his hood to reveal his wheat-haired mullet and downright gorgeous face. he enters your home and you stand by patiently waiting for him to drop his bag and take off his shoes before touching all on him.
“you not gonna say hello?” bakugou says gruffly and you roll your eyes (in your head, of course) before walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.
“hey, baby. missed you,” you kiss into his face and bakugou wraps an arm round your waist and raises his arms to grabs at your cheeks to properly look at your face before kissing you once. and twice. thrice. even four times before you’re laughing and begging him to stop. with a stretched hand, you lead your boyfriend upstairs to your childhood bedroom.
“any reason ya wanted to stop off at your parents instead of my place?” bakugou asked, raising a brow in suspicion. you fight back the urge to overtly shudder at the thought of his friends ruining what will be a long night - especially if you had anything to do with it.
“i was just thinking that we don’t really get much time to ourselves. just us two. i think we’ve only had a proper date to ourselves maybe three times. and i am saying that loosely,” you admit. bakugou scoffs and sits on the edge of your bed.
“‘s not my fault people are always botherin’ us,” he mumbles and then he looks up at you and gestures for you to stand between his legs. you do so quite obediently.
“never said it was, baby,” you say, just above a whisper, as you brush the back of his hair and into his scalp. his hands rest at your knees and rub softly against your thighs and you really have to fight back the urge to jump his bones. but, alas, you had to make him want this just as much as you.
your boyfriend hums and leans into your touch and bakugou looks up at you and smiles, a little mischievous, “so we have your ‘rents house all to ourselves and ya wanna waste it on going to a lame ass company party?”
your eyes widen at that, not really expecting him to almost put two and two together so early on. you grossly underestimated the intelligence of your boyfriend so you had to dispel any ideas of sexual activity before he spearheaded into your plan.
“first of all, you invited me. and second of all, it’d be nice to go and come back to a place all to ourselves for once. we don’t really get to go to parties with your friends often,” you muse and bakugou groans and wraps his arms around your thighs.
“they wouldn’t even know we were missing…” he grumbles and you smile down at him and give him a kiss to his forehead, your thumb passing his brow piercing and booping his nose and lips.
“we don’t even have to go for that long if you don’t want to-”
“i don’t wanna go at all.” bakugou states adamantly and you tap his face and bask in his hold and affection.
“we only have to just show up, so you’re not gonna get out of this one easily. then you have me all to yourself. sounds good, kats?”
bakugou throws his arms off you and himself into your pillows and pulls his phone out - akin to a petulant child and you have to laugh. if only he knew what was actually going to happen.
“yeah, yeah, just - let’s just chill for a bit.. we can at least cuddle before we have to fucking spend time with those idiots,” katsuki grunts and you hum at his reply before clambering on top of your hulk of a boyfriend. you stare down at him in all his glory. now that you were right above him, you notice he looked more tan than usual. and did his lips always look so kissable?
“y/n? you all good up there?” kstsuki asks as he taps softly onto the planes of your temple. you look down at his nose and then his lips and it’s settled.
fuck it. there was no going back now. this was happening today.
“yeah, kats, ‘m good. just missed you, is all,” you breathe out and your boyfriend hums in reply and you thank your lucky stars that he’s sometimes a little naive when it came to you- lest he speedrun his own surprise.
bakugou looks at you, all soft and loving even though all you can see and feel are his red eyes piercing into you. he stuffs his phone into his pocket and pulls you into his wide chest, arms imprisoning you.
“shitty hair just texted me asking where we are. ‘m gonna tell him to fuck off.”
“don’t be mean to your friends,” you scold and bakugou rolls his eyes but he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. you try to ignore the fact he’s looking at you properly - drinking you in all angles.
“you gonna let me kiss you or just keep staring?” katsuki asks, eyes all half lidded and brooding. you shy away a little at his upfront neediness for you but you entertain him regardless. you bend down to plant a soft kiss on his mouth but that does little to satiate him.
“the fuck was that? you love torturing me, huh, princess,” katsuki groans and you smile at his expression: all frowny and so, so pretty.
“sorry, sorry, you’re right. just love teasing you,” you say, barely above a whisper and you give katsuki his first proper kiss since seeing him today. the kiss is heavy: all tongue and wet and warm and you grab onto his arms to ground yourself. meanwhile bakugou pulls you down so you’re right on top of him, so he can get a better grip on your ass and easier access to your mouth. you’ve got a leg over his hips and an arm hanging off his shoulder, completely attached. he’s got a large palm on your lower back, slowly drifting further and further to squish your ass.
it’s like this for a couple of minutes; your arms wrapped around his head and neck, his large palms groping at your ass and hips and bakugou’s mouth kissing on your tongue and lips. your leg rests on his waist and you swear you can feel the heat of his dick right then and there. it’s not like you can miss it, all heavy and imposing.
“fucking needed this, baby,” your boyfriend practically moans and a hand sneaks in your pyjama top and shorts and you moan loudly as he squeezes and grabs at you, your leg around his waist pulling him even closer. katsuki pulls back at the feeling of soft lace running across his fingertips and only then does it resonate that he can feel what you’re wearing. he looks at your face with a quizzical look and you want to hide from the sharpness of his eyes.
“what’s this ‘m feeling?” katsuki asks and you stuff your face in his neck as he smoothed his hands on your lace clad hips.
“just a little something i was gonna surprise you with…” you trail off and he sits up at this declaration.
“yeah? something f’me? you not gonna lemme see it?” he muses and your eyes widen. your boyfriend has always been pretty bold so you don’t know why you’re being so shy right now but you comply with his demands and sit up on his lap to pull off your shirt to reveal the brightly coloured brassiere.
bakugou’s breath hitches and his chest rises a little slowly when he sees the bra in it’s entirety. you look gorgeous, he thinks. all innocent and sexy at the same time. he doesn’t know whether he wants your legs on his shoulders so he can taste you until you’re begging him to stop… or whether he should just fold you in half and fuck you until pearly tears are falling down your cheeks.
he decides on complimenting you for the time being:“you look gorgeous, princess. fucking sexy… all f’me, yeah?”
“who else would it be for, dummy?” you say in a low, humorous tone and your hand travels up his chest to rest at his jaw, so you can give him a kiss to his ‘o’ shaped mouth. you slot yourself entirely at the weight of his bottoms and only then do you really feel what you’ve done to him. it’s your turn to make an ‘o’ shaped expression.
you lean down to kiss his lips again, sucking on his bottom lip before letting go with a pop, before smiling at him. katsuki grins back at you, leaning up on his elbows and nudging his nose against yours and you can smell his minty breath. you rest your hand over his stubbled cheek, brushing a hand over it as he slots his lips with yours. he takes his time with you, so much tongue as drinks everything you give him. katsuki lays back down to watch you and runs his hands over your hips, squeezing at your ass and all the parts he can get his hands on.
he decides he’s had enough of the petting and the touches because he groans and grabs at your waist so he can you flip you over.
bakugou presses hot and wet kisses and nips at your jaw and your neck - till he’s laying on his stomach to kiss at the top of your breasts. he’s fiddling with the underwire of the bra before he looks up at you with blown out pupils and a smirk to match.
“we were never going to that party, we’re we, baby?” he hums as he noisily kisses and sucks your collarbones and the fat of your breasts. you know he’s caught you out and trying to elicit a reaction but with the way he’s biting and kissing on you, you can’t find it in yourself to care.
“n-no…” you say, with a hint of a whine, “just wanted you to myself for once.” bakugou can feel himself throb at how much you want him and he climbs up to situate himself exactly above you, his arms caging around your head.
“such a fucking minx, you know that? who knew you had it in you, princess?” he says, looking directly into your eyes. you feel small under his gaze and try to cower away but his hand grabs at the chub of your cheeks.
“don’t get all shy on me now, baby. you knew exactly what you were doing,” katsuki trails off, now littering your neck with gentle bites and hot, wet breath that made your spine shudder and toes writhe.
“you’re not gonna embarrass me. it's gotten me this far, so not a bad deal,” you gasp, just shy of a whimper at your boyfriend’s ministrations. katsuki chuckles at this and sits on his haunches to have a good look at you.
“at least you did your research… y’know orange’s my favourite colour too. can i take this off, princess?” katsuki asks, his hands brushing over the thin straps of your bra. you sit up slightly and nod at him. however, he doesn’t seem content with that answer as he thumbs over your nipple through the bra and you gasp again.
“use your words, pretty girl. that don’t mean shit to me,” he breathes out and you want to fight him for forcing you to beg so explicitly.
“yes, yes please,” you practically cry out and bakugou fixes his hands to undo the clasp of your bra and your breasts spill out of the material. katsuki bites back a moan, his eyes half lidded at the sight of you. he feels like a teenage boy all over again - wanting to grope and bite and kiss at you. so he does exactly that.
discarding your bra, he leans down onto his stomach and goes to playfully bite down at your left nipple and you whine at him, placing a hand in his unruly hair. just as you’re about to scold him, he smoothes over his bites and sucks with wet and soft kisses over the skin. with his free hand, he travels down to your barely there shorts and slips into them, his fingers leaving a ghost of a touch against your pussy.
“can feel how wet you are and i’ve barely even touched you,” whispers bakugou and he kisses at your tits while watching your expression. to say you felt shy under his watchful eyes was understatement. but you still wanted so much more.
“katsuki… please,” you breathe out and he presses his fingers harder into your barely covered clit and you bite your lower lip to stop a squeak from leaving your throat.
“please, what, pretty? you look like you knew what you wanted when you dressed up all sexy f’me,” katsuki says mischievously and you want to slap and ride his face at the same time. you’ll save that for another day.
“please make me… cum,” you finally get out and bakugou kisses at your breasts one last time before descending into the lower half of your body.
“since you used your manners,” katsuki muses but you both knew he wouldn’t pass at the chance to get his mouth on you anyway, recalling back to your moments of interrupted intimacy (or cockblocking as katsuki would call it).
katsuki pulls down your fluffy pyjama shorts to reveal the orange panty ensemble and he bites his lip to hold back a whimper at the noticeable damp spot just at your cunt hole. he looks up at you, who’s clearly embarrassed by all the attention because you’re covering your face with your hands. he playfully bites down on your thigh and you yelp, looking right at his lust filled eyes.
“wan’ you looking at me when ‘m bout to eat you out,” murmurs your boyfriend and you force the heels of your feet dig into the plush of your bed so you don’t clench your thighs at his words.
bakugou continues with looking at your pussy and he can practically see your walls clenching from how turned you are and he feels impossibly harder at the thought of tasting you. he places a small, wet kiss on panty-covered clit and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.
katsuki continues to lave and give attention to your pussy by soft and wet kisses through the material and your whimpers were about to turn into complaints until he pulls the dampened material down your legs and stuffs it in his trouser pocket.
in any other given situation, you would have brought that up but katsuki launches himself between your legs and starts suckling at your clit and suddenly, whatever happened before has been forgotten. you cry out at the sudden attack on your pussy and the noises that come out of you are borderline pornographic.
“k-katsuki, fuck, that feels so g-good,” you stutter, whole body practically trembling.
“yeah?” your boyfriend chuckles, “you taste good, princess. can’t believe i went this long without having you on my face,” he grunts, alternating between kissing and sucking at your clit and your lips. when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slowly presses two fingers into your hole and your head falls back into the pillows.
katsuki’s watching your reaction and he’s humping the bed for even a lick of friction; the way you taste and sound is too much for his senses. he can feel the tip of his dick leaking when you cry out his name and his eyes roll back when he feels you clench around him.
“o-oh, ‘m gonna come, kats, fuck, ‘s too much-”
“that’s it, baby. doing so well f’me, fuck. wan’ you to come all over my face. can you do that f’me?” asks bakugou while he alternates between stroking your inner walls and tongue-fucking you.
you nod, unable to answer and practically scream before your eyes begin to roll back, your toes begin to curl and the effects of your orgasm hit you like a truck. all you can see is white and you can’t even comprehend the noises coming out of you.
katsuki decides he is in love with the way you look when you come undone. he fucks you through your orgasm, lapping up everything that you give him and he only stops when your thighs begin to close up around his head and you make feeble attempts to push him away. not wanting to overwhelm you, he kisses your clit before sitting up and notes that he would stay between your legs some other day.
meanwhile, you’re catching your breath and your eyes are brim with a few unshed tears and katsuki chuckles breathily at you. you pout, “don’t laugh at me,” and he smiles in awe at your naked beauty. it’s only then when his eyes rake up and down your body that you realise he’s still completely clothed.
“starting to think you’re allergic to getting naked.. i’m feeling all exposed and left out,” your pout deepens and he stretches a hand to pinch at your nipple and you yelp and swat him away.
“relax, pretty girl, all you had to do was ask. ‘sides, not like i can fuck you in my clothes,” katsuki smirks and you roll your eyes and nibble your lips, impatiently awaiting to see your boyfriend in all his true glory.
bakugou pulls off his jumper and shirt in one go to reveal his tan chest and various miscellaneous tattoos, including one of your favourite flower right under his right pec. he then goes onto to pull down his joggers to reveal tight, grey briefs - and you hold your breath at the sight.
your mouth waters when you can see the length of his meat alongside his thigh and you can even see the damp patch on where the head of his mushroom-shaped tip is supposed to be. katsuki can see you checking him out and his chest puffs up a little at this.
“you look like you’re about to eat me, princess,” he jokes and you raise a brow.
when you’re about to bite back at him, you realise that you’re way too horny to waste anymore time and instead, you just nod seductively and open your arms so he can rest on top of you.
katsuki accepts and his arms rest by your head. he’s directly above you and only now does the sheer size of your boyfriend dawn on you. his whole body hulks over you and you’re unable to hold back a whimper that escapes when you realise just how hot this situation is.
“you still turned on? anythin’ i can do to help you?” katsuki snickers and you know he gets off on teasing you: he’s enjoying your helplessness and the fact that you’re so horny you’ve been rendered slightly brainless.
“stop teasing me,” you pout and katsuki leans down to kiss your pouty lips and he smiles, all warm at you even though he’s one clothing item away from rearranging your insides.
“sorry, princess. ‘s just fun to tease ya, is all. believe me when i say i wan’ this just as much as you do,” he grunts out and he sits up to finally rid of his briefs.
the wait is agonisingly long but when bakugou finally strips himself naked, your whole world stops.
your boyfriend is a hefty, adonis of a man so the size of his cock should’ve never surprised but no amount of mental physical preparation could have prepared you for the actual thing. it’s beautiful, veiny and thick - the length being tan with a vein that climbs all the way to the head of his cock: which sits at a dark pink, almost red colour, dribbling with precum. at the base of his cock sits a tuft of blond hair and your mouth basically waters.
katsuki’s dick twitches a little at your unwavering gaze and it’s his turn to feel a little embarrassed. you sit up and reach a hand out to thumb at his most prominent vein and a mixture of a groan and a whimper catches at the back of his throat. he feels like - he knows he could come just from looking at you as you brush against his cock.
it’s why he jumps to crowd over you on the bed and grabs your right thigh to sit at his waist.
“you think you’re ready? ‘m gonna ease into you slowly, ‘kay? promise you’ll tell me if it hurts,” he insists and you make sure to verbally reply, lest he waste time trying to get you to speak up.
“fuck, yes, ‘m ready, please put it in already,” you beg and katsuki wants to call you needy but the mushroom head of his cock brushes against your slick pussy lips and any smart reply he has locked and loaded in his head goes out his ear.
katsuki grabs his cock and brushes it on your clit, your lips and then circles your cunt hole and you’re clenching just at the feeling of him pressing down onto your most sensitive parts. you were half sure he was going to make you beg for it but before you could blink, he presses into you and your head would’ve hit the headboard had katsuki not place his hand behind you knowingly.
the feeling of him inside you is too much but not enough simultaneously and your hands grip at his forearms and you’re not sure on whether you want to push him away or bring him closer.
meanwhile, katsuki’s fighting his own mental battle: he curses himself for putting this off for too long and also prays that he doesn’t come before he at least gets yku off. you’re tighter, warmer, wetter than he anticipated and he can’t get enough of you. he’s not even watching himself feed his cock into your gooey hole, deathly afraid that if he looks down for at least one measly second, he would bust so deep into you, you’d be pregnant with triplets.
katsuki’s eyebrows are furrowed as he finally sheathes all the way into you and you rest a hand on his lower abdomen at a feeble attempt to push him away.
“i don’ think is’ gonna f-fit,” you slur, “‘m so full.” katsuki grabs your hand and lifts it above your head in a small, handholding embrace.
“don’t push me away,” he practically growls and he situates himself so he’s resting on top of you again, “you’re a big girl. if you wan’ me off of ya, you know to use ya words.”
you furrow your brows and look away from his dark eyed gaze and he chuckles, “that’s what i thought.”
katsuki pulls himself slightly out of your warmth, only to grind himself back in at an antagonising pace. he sets a speed and he lets go of your hand to properly rest on his forearms above you. you use this as an opportunity to wrap your arms around his back; your face scrunched and bottom lip tucked under your teeth.
you can feel katsuki’s pants above you and you finally open your eyes to see him and he’s probably never looked more sexy and eatable. his hair is sticking to his forehead and his eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that frown will probably be stuck for a while. katsuki angles himself just ever so slightly and you throw your head back in unabashed pleasure as he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“you like that, sweet girl? look at you.. fuck, all fucked out. wan’ you to tell me how good ‘m fucking you,” katsuki breathes out and you swear you’re not ignoring him on purpose because with the way his cock presses inside you and with the way his pubes brush against your clit, all you can muster is a broken moan (one that katsuki will definitely tease you about later).
“that’s how good ‘m fucking ya? can’t even - fuck, ha - can’t even speak, can ya?,” he says out loud and his words are coming in waves. katsuki reaches down to flick at your pearl and your legs seize up around him as you babble mindlessly to appease him.
“yess, feels so good, so deep, ‘can feel you so deep inside, kats - ohh, right there, pleaseee,” you warble and katsuki lifts your right leg to his shoulder to get impossibly deeper inside you.
“fuck, can’t believe i went so long without this sweet pussy,” he grunts out and the feeling of you cunt spasming around him hits at 100mph. you become sloppier, wetter and katsuki finds himself being able to fuck you right to the base of his cock. then it hits him: you just came.
“did y’ just fucking come already? jesus, fuck, haven’- haven’t even properly fucked you yet. so dirty, baby,” katsuki moans out and you can’t hear a word he’s saying. your nails dig in deeper to his shoulder blades and the soles of your feet press into his back as you’re still coming down from your high.
“d’ya think you can go again f’me, princess?” your boyfriend asks politely but the way he asks is anything but polite as he’s already folding both your legs to place them on his shoulder as you’re pushed and manhandled into a mating press.
katsuki still hasn’t pulled out and his cock is throbbing inside you and he wants to cum so fucking badly. but the unshed tears in your eyes made his heart beat a little faster than usual and he would never want to push you past your limits.
“you alright to continue, y/n?” he asks sternly, his expression slightly worried and you amass all the strength your body will allow to pull him down and you link your arms around his neck.
“so serious, katsuki,” you joke, still a little out of breath and he rolls his eyes and stares down at you lovingly while your thumb brushes against his cheek.
“make me cum so hard ‘m seeing stars,” you whisper and katsuki growls as he pulls out and sheathes himself deep into you while you cry out.
“you get what you wish for, princess.”
katsuki places his hands on the back of your thighs and goes crazy at you; desperate for both your releases. the sound of skin and the wetness of your pussy echos in your bedroom and accompanied with the your gasps and cries, the sounds of the room were past the point of being just pornographic.
you swore you’d have his hands imprinted on the back of your thighs with the way he was groping them and with this position, you could feel everything so much more. he was so deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach as you writhed under him as your third climax of the night crept on you. you were already so sensitive from the last two and you knew this was the one that was going to wreck you.
“‘m so-o close, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna make a mess,” you gasp, moving to wrap your arms around katsuki’s neck. you could tell from his tightly wound facial expressions that he was not too far off.
“y-yeah? make a fucking mess on me princess, f-fuck, cum all over me an’ i’ll give you everything i’ve got, baby,” he grunts and he slides an arm down between you both to thumb at your swollen clit and you seize at the feeling.
“‘s too much, katsuki, too - oh-oh, ‘m gonna,” you cry o out and you grab your boyfriend’s face, “pl-please kiss me, please,” you beg, pearly tears streaming down your face and katsuki moans out.
“anything for you, pretty,” he rumbles and he slots his mouth over yours as your orgasm hits at you in waves. katsuki can feel sprays of your release hit on his pelvis and his eyes roll back.
“that’s it, pretty girl, make a fuckin’ - make a fuckin’ mess on me,” katsuki kisses into your tongue before coming deep inside you and moaning out loudly as you kiss him back to goad him through his orgasm.
you both ride out your climaxes and your boyfriend watches where you’re both connected and he pulls out, hissing while you whimper and he eventually collapses on top of you. you hold him close to your chest as you match his breathing pattern. the silence is comforting and you scratch at the nape of his head and he opens an eye while his face is pressed into your tummy.
“you okay?” you ask katsuki and he wraps his arms tighter around your body as response but you’re not satisfied with that.
“use your words, baby,” you tease and katsuki playfully digs his teeth into your belly and you make a feeble attempt to push him away.
“should be asking you that instead. fucking squirted all over me,” katsuki chuckles and you gasp, lifting up your hands to hide behind them in embarrassment.
“god, that’s so embarrassing, i can’t believe i did that,” you say, all muffled but katsuki pulls your hands from your face and kisses at your palm.
“was sexy, baby. want you to do that every time we fuck,” he mumbles, nosing little kisses onto your chest and tummy. your boyfriend looks adorable like this: all fucked out, exhausted and glowy and you’re holding back the urge to ‘awwh’ at him while you pet and rub his face with your thumb.
“and i want you to get off me so i can shower. ‘m all gross and sweaty and sticky,” you complain, albeit lightheartedly and when you make the attempt to get up, the blond jumps up like he was never tired.
“sit your ass down and let me run us a bath. and i’ll know if you moved,” katsuki warns, walking to your bathroom in his naked glory and you laugh and before he exits the room, he turns to pass you a quizzical glance.
“nothing, it’s just, your butt is so cute. i can’t believe i never noticed it before!”
“y/n, so help me god, i’ll throw your dumbass into the bathtub,” yells your hot headed man and you giggle at his ‘threat’, watching him try to hide his butt from you as you go to follow him to the bathroom, disobeying his every rule.
so when mina and the bakusquad anyone asks you about your first time, you tell them it was something you waited dearly for and you wouldn’t change for the world.
“uh, kats? why did kiri just text asking if we finally ‘fucked and got it over with?’”
so maybe it wasn’t spontaneous for your boyfriend either. but it’s like you said-
“i will kill that red headed bastard,” yells out katsuki, grabbing his phone and throwing you over his shoulder as you squeal.
you wouldn’t really change a thing.
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adnauseum11 · 3 months
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Misfire (John Price x Reader)
A little snippet of a scene came to me and made me laugh. John Price having a crush on a long time friend and finally working up the nerve to ask her out. Kinda.
less than 1k words
John Price x fem! reader
SFW
feedback welcome
I know almost nothing of CoD other than fanfic so go easy on me
I wouldn't know how to write shy and retiring if my life depended on it.
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You’ve known John forever. Like, forever, forever. The friend group he originated from disintegrated years ago, but the two of you remained thick as thieves. He’s moved in and out of the country, and you’ve changed careers a few times, but through it all he’s been a reliable shoulder to lean on. He’s the first person you call when you need help moving for the millionth time, and he, good man that he is, turns up with beer and willing hands as soon as he’s available. If he grumbles about your proclivity for changing apartments so often you know it comes from a place of concerned affection. If anything, he’s pleased you’re closer to his bachelor pad now, negating the need to drive across town twice on game nights. God forbid you ride a bus for twenty-five minutes when he could deliver you to your doorstep in fifteen. He's retired from the Army, and still takes safety a little too seriously for your tastes. You indulge him though, because who actively chooses the bus when other, more pleasant options are available?
When he asks you to dinner, you agree without even blinking. You reason there must be a rugby game on or something he wants to see. You don’t even ask where to meet him, assuming, correctly, that he will pick you up. So, you are caught off guard when he turns up in your entrance way wearing a button-down shirt, suit jacket and dress pants. He too, is caught off guard. You look down at your outfit in unison. Bootcut jeans, well-worn Blundstone boots and a ratty but beloved faded t-shirt that cheerfully proclaims “IDAHO? No, you da ho” across the chest in cursive script. 
“Uh… what are you wearing?” He asks, cautiously.
“Me? What are YOU wearing?” Totally confused now, you can’t help but feel a little saucy about being put on your back foot.
“I asked you to dinner, didn’t I?”
John’s accent gets stronger when he’s caught up in strong emotions. That really should have been your first clue. But this is John. John. 
“Yeah, why are you all dressed up for beers? What game is on tonight anyways?” 
You throw him a look like he’s gone slow on the uptake as you reach for your coat. When you turn to look at him with your purse strap slung over your shoulder, he’s looking as confused as you feel. 
“Game? Love, who said anything about beers?”
“Wait, we aren’t going for beers?” Disappointment creeps into your voice and you can see you have managed to flummox the normally unflappable John. 
“Bleedin’ Jesus, I mean, we can have beers if ye want, sure. I just uh…” 
He lets the sentence hang, clearly uncertain.  
“You what?” You prompt, vaguely concerned at his out of character behaviour. 
“I made reservations at Stella del Mare.” He admits in a rush.
“You did what? This isn’t… beers? Is this… are we on a date?” The slow realization finally takes hold and a spiral of panic begins to descend through your body. “They won’t let me in like this!”
“Uh, no. No. They sure won’t.”
He agrees easily with the second half of your statement while staring at your chest and dodging the first. You narrow your eyes at him. This isn’t your first rodeo with John’s evasiveness. 
“How much time do I have?”
“Including travel time, or…?”
“John. If this is how you start all your first dates, I can see why you don’t have many second ones.”
“’Bout 15 minutes love.”
He answers seriously, properly chastised. 
You whip your purse over your head and slap it against his wide chest, catching him off guard. He holds it in place while you sling your coat off and dash upstairs again. 
He’s still in the same position when you return back down the steps, having swapped jeans for a black skirt and your (hilarious but wildly) inappropriate t-shirt for a silk, V-neck emerald blouse with cap sleeves. You’ve pulled your hair back into a simple bun and slicked on a light layer of neutral makeup and a deep red lip. John’s eyebrows climb as he catches a glimpse of you but he waits until you’re picking up your coat again before he speaks. 
“Listen, you look beautiful. I – “
“Can it, I’m still annoyed at you for the moment.” 
You take the purse out of his hands and slide the strap over your shoulder, smacking his big bicep playfully as you push him out the door and into the night. You resolve to question him thoroughly about his poor communication skills at dinner as you lock up. Wasn’t he in charge of people in the army? Christ. 
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eddiernunson · 9 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.
Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego <3
I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.
Word count: 16.6k
Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.
Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.
Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.
That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.
edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.
About 26/27 Years Ago:
At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.
The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.
Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.
Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”
Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”
“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”
Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“When?”
“Now!”
Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”
“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.
Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.
Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.
The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.
They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.
Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.
“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.
Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.
“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.
An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.
Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.
When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.
The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.
And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.
-
“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.
“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.
Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.
“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.
Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”
“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.
They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.
“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.
“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”
“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.
“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”
“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”
There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.
“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.
Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?”  You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.
Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”
Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”
You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.
“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”
“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.
As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.
“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.
“Oh, they’re great.”
“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.
“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.
“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.
“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”
“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.
“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.
Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”
Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.
Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)
“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”
“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.
-
You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”
Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”
“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”
The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”
Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”
“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.
Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”
“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.
“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.
“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.
Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”
“Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.
Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”
Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.
“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”
Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”
Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”
When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.
Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”
Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”
“You fucked in his tru—”
Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”
Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”
“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.
“Good god, man.”
“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.
“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.
“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”
“Or…she can find out in person one day.”
“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”
“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”
Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.
“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”
It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.
Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.
-
You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”
As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”
“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”  
Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.
You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”
“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.
“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.
You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”
Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”
Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?
You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail  over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.
You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”
Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”
Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”
Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”
“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.
“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.
“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.
Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.
“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”
-
Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.
Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.  
You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.
You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.
“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”
“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”
“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”
“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.
You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.
“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.
He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”
“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.
“You think Steve—”
“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”
You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”
“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”
“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.
“Fuck, I love you.”
-
As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?
The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.
Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school.  Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.
Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.
Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.
Basically, none of his boys were the same.
You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.
Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.
Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.
You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”
“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”
“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”
“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”
You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”
“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.
“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”
“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.
“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.
“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.
“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”
“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”
“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”
You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.
“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”
Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”
“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.
“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.
Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”
“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”
Dylan answers before you can–  you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”
“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.
“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”
The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”
Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.
“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”
Caption reads, ‘Him>’.
“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.
Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”
Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”
His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.
Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.
“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.
Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”
Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.
“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.
The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.
“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.
“Yes, baby?”
You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
Still no dice.
You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”
“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.
Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.
As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.
CHECK YOUR INSTA
HELLO???
BABE
HELLO
GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES
BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND
HELLLLOOOO
“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”
He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.
“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.
You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.
“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”
You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”
 He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”
-
As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”
Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”
“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.
“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”
You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.
“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.
“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.
Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.
You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”
“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.
It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”
“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”
Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”
 A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”
You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.
“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”
A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.
“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.
“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”
Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.
“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.
“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.
“That… is a very long story.”
“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.
“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”
-
Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.
Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.
You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”
You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.
As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”
Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.
You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.
Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.
“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”
Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.  
As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.
You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.
He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”
“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.
Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.
You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.
Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.
Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”
“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”
His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”
You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”
He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.
The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”
“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”
Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”
Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”
“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.
Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”
“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
-
Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.
His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.
“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.
“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.
“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”
“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”
“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”
Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”
“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.
Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.
Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.
-
Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”
So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.
Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”
“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”
He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”
Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”
“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”
“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.
“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”
“Jealous how?”
Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”
The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”
“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.
“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.
“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.
“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”
Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.
You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.
Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.
“Yes, baby?”
Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”
That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.  
Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.
Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”
“Yeah.”
“When?!”
Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”
You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”
“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”
You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.
Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”
“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”
Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”
“Mmhmm.”
“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.
“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.
“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.
“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”
“Sure, dude. What do you need?”
You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.
Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.
Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.
Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”
“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.
“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”
“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?
“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”
Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.
“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.
“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.
“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.
“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”
“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”
“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.
As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”
“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”
“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.
“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.
“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.
“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.
“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.
“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?
Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)
Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.
-
Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.
It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.
The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.
Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.
Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.
Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.
They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.
“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”
“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.
So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.
-
When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.
“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.
Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.
“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.
You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.
“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”
You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”
“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”
You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”
Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”
You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.
Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”
“What?”
“Dude. Subtlety?”
Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”
You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.
The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.  
The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”
You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”
“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”
“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.
He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”
Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.
Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.
Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.
Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.
“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.
Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.
“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.
Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.
He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.
You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”
“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.
“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”
You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.
Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. ���Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”
“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)
“Call me sir?”
You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.
“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”
He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.
“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.
“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.
He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”
“Move without your say so.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”
“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”
“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”
“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.
He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.
Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.
The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”
“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.
“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.
“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.
The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”
“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.
Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”
Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.
“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”
“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.
Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.
The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”
Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”
You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.
“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”
“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.
He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.
“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”
You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.
“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.
“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.
Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”
“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.
You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”
“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”
“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.
“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.
“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.
No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.
Even then.
He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”
You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.
“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.
“If I can walk.” You giggle.
Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken
Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp
(Okay the very idea that this many people wanted on the taglist is INSANE to me. If you want on it, just reply and I'll add you.)
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blacknedsoul-blog · 3 months
Text
A detailed explanation from my headcanon that Annabel has ADHD
So I had this six fucking hour trip. On a bus. Alone. And I was bored out of my mind, because sitting around being bored is as close to mental torture as it gets for me.
Fortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel: I was inspired. Away from the burnout I have with fanfics, I remembered that I've mentioned this headcanon several times on Nevermore's Discord and just thought, what better time to talk about ADHD than when I'm having a pretty ADHD moment?
But before I start, there are a few little things that need to be pretty clear on the table:
I'm being a bit hypocritical here: in general, I'm deeply against diagnosing fictional characters for two reasons: first, it's an impossible task to distinguish between character traits and symptoms to such an extent that you can go around forever without coming to a real conclusion unless the author of the work confirms it, and second, even if you have the disorder you're talking about, you can fall into the trap of perpetuating stereotypes or generalizing, thereby invalidating other experiences. So even if the tone of this review sounds very assertive, it is because of my writing style. I am in no way diagnosing Annabel; this is an analysis of her character through the lens of a possible disorder.
In relation to the above, where I point out an event in the comic that can be read as a symptom, I am not reducing it to "this only happens because she has ADHD". You CAN'T reduce a person's personality to "they has a disorder," and when I point out these examples, I'm not doing so with the intention of denying the background behind it, but rather pointing out how, under the magnifying glass of having it, it might exacerbate that behavior.
I am NOT a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or a neurologist: I am a woman with ADHD. One who has done a lot of research on the subject, been in therapy with a psychologist who specializes in the disorder, and talked extensively about it both with friends who also have it and with professionals. But I don't have a career in mental health, I don't pretend to, and everything you'll read below is a mixture of research and personal experience.
You're going to see a lot of "we" or "those of us with ADHD" because, as I said, I have it too, but this is all a generalization made for the sake of flow. The symptoms of this disorder can be expressed in many different ways, and not everyone has all of them (for example, there are some that I don't have, but it would be strange to change the voice of the text just because of that, it makes it harder to read). If you have ADHD and read a symptom and think "hey, I don't get that", that's perfectly normal. Your experience is valid and I don't want to pass it on. But it would be exhausting for me and for the reader to use tentative phrases all the time.
If this text resonates too much with you, I strongly recommend that you see a professional, if you're able, and not self-diagnose: ADHD has many symptoms in common with autism and other neuro divergences, don't risk misdiagnosis.
If you have a different opinion than mine on this subject and want to share it with me, I'll be happy to read it, if I don't answer it's because I forgot (forgive me?). But you can be sure that I will read it.
Anyway, let's get started.
What is ADHD?
According to the NIH (National Institute of Mental Health) website, this is the definition of ADHD:
Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is marked by an ongoing pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development. People with ADHD experience an ongoing pattern of the following types of symptoms:
Inattention means a person may have difficulty staying on task, sustaining focus, and staying organized, and these problems are not due to defiance or lack of comprehension.
Hyperactivity means a person may seem to move about constantly, including in situations when it is not appropriate, or excessively fidgets, taps, or talks. In adults, hyperactivity may mean extreme restlessness or talking too much.
Impulsivity means a person may act without thinking or have difficulty with self-control. Impulsivity could also include a desire for immediate rewards or the inability to delay gratification. An impulsive person may interrupt others or make important decisions without considering long-term consequences.
Here is an impression that needs to be clarified: ADHD is more about an inability to regulate attention than a lack of it. A neurotypical person may choose to focus on a task to get it done, we may procrastinate to death because even if we want to, we can't focus on it, or stand there absorbed in it ad infinitum until the house falls down around us (and we may still have trouble noticing). This is understood, Understanding all this, here is the list of Annabel's behaviors that could be interpreted as symptoms.
Hyperactivity
One thing that not everyone knows is that hyperactivity is not about running around like an uncontrolled animal. It can manifest itself in many ways, and there are many types: physical, mental, and even emotional.
In Annabel's case, she seems to be the first two types.
Perhaps due to her difficulty in expressing emotions, it is quite obvious at this point in the comic that her moods are made explicit through gestures: playing with her rings when she is happy or nervous, touching the ribbon around her neck in moments of anxiety, or playing with her hair almost as a default state.
Annabel.
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Doesn't.
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Sit.
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Still.
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Never.
It is also clear that Annabel is always planning something. Always.
This can be read into the logic of mental hyperactivity: when you have it, your brain just doesn't stop. Ever. And that's something that resonates with this lady.
Emotional Dysregulation
The part of the brain that regulates our moods works…erratically. Not to say it doesn't work at all.
This leads to a painfully common problem in women with ADHD: lack of emotional regulation is seen as drama, and instead of being taught tools to deal with it, we are taught to repress and bottle up emotions.
Annabel has highly internalized this as a defense mechanism. But here's the thing: if repressing emotions instead of learning how to deal with them in a healthy way is harmful, being biologically unable to regulate them can be even worse.
It touches the right nerves, and if you catch us flying low, it can cause explosive outbursts.
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Possibly violent reactions to feeling offended or uncomfortable.
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Or completely over-the-top reactions that we can't control.
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And it's not just anger that's affected, it's the whole emotional spectrum. Another emotion that is very noticeable is fear. If we don't develop tools to help us calm down, we don't get scared, we panic.
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If this happens too often, we can become prone to developing severe anxiety or frequent attacks.
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We may also have great difficulty dealing with frustration. Our brains love rewards, and feeling that we're not getting them because of our own inability to do something can be downright annoying. And if we don't have the tools to express our frustration appropriately, we can have quite childish reactions, ranging from temper tantrums to…pouting.
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I find it funny how several of these pouts are caused by Lenore, a bit like "Oh, come on, honey, what are we talking about?"
Another important thing to note here is that one of the most fucked up and notorious symptoms of this lack of emotional regulation is RSD, short for Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, defined as "a problem that interferes with your ability to regulate your emotional responses to feelings of failure and rejection. While rejection is almost always unpleasant, people with RSD experience overwhelming levels of emotional pain. This can lead to long-term mental health problems, fear of failure, and behavioral changes that negatively affect them throughout their lives."
Rejection and fear of failure are a problem for us. So much so that we may seek strategies to avoid it as much as possible, even when it causes us problems (such as not completing a task for fear of doing it wrong). This is an issue that can tear us apart emotionally.
Annabel is terrified of being rejected or despised. Her whole life has been built around appearances and getting the right people interested in her. If she can't do that, what good is she?
And that's something that comes up a lot in her relationship with Lenore. Repeatedly, in fact, but my favorite has to be this one:
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Annabel thought it would be the smart thing to do to break that bond because she knows they're never going to see each other again. But the look on her face when Lenore calls her a "damn liar" is just painful to watch. I think ripping her heart out with a rusty spoon would have hurt less.
Finally, on the subject of things that aren't so funny: that thing Annabel does about biting her fingers when she's in a critical situation is something I used to do, too (only I'd bite my knuckles or palms).
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My psychologist explained to me that when you feel like you're losing control, you immediately look for something to ground you, and unfortunately, physical pain is often a quick (if damaging) way to do that.
Codependency
Okay, here's a thing: it's not that we have a tendency as such to codependency, but this is a situation that can occur due to bad practices within a relationship. Especially a couple one.
As it stands out, people with ADHD can have a lot of problems with micromanaging ourselves, remembering things, dealing with our emotions, etc, etc, etc. And it is natural for close friends, family or our partner to help in those processes.
The problem arises when that help starts to become a parentification process where the partner who is providing support starts to do this on behalf of the other person, infantilizing them in the process.
This is a cocktail for resentment on both sides: the party calling the shots can easily feel that the other is putting a huge burden on their shoulders and not trying hard enough, while, on the other side, no one likes to feel like they are being treated like a child. Let alone that the person doing it is your partner.
But at the other end of resentment, there's codependency.
The constant feeling that you are a burden, insufficient or even disposable.
And that means you have a lot to make up for. On a regular basis. So much that you put yourself in a situation where you have to make horrible decisions so that someone else doesn't have to because somehow you owe it to them, who hasn't had that happen?
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What I mean is that yes, Annabel feels like she owes this to Lenore because she only remembers the part where Lenore came kicking in doors to save her from a marriage she didn't want. And if she can't do this for her, she doesn't deserve a relationship.
Feeling inadequate, that your partner is doing you some kind of favor by tolerating you and ending up idealizing their in the process is obviously not unique to the neurodivergent experience.
But we try, we try really hard and, like anyone else, we like to feel that the effort we put in is seen and valued.
If we are not careful about that, we do indeed fall into the risk of becoming codependent. The desire to feel loved or valued becomes a constant hunger for validation from which it is difficult to escape because we are aware that our brain will never function in a different way. And if that is mixed with RSD, it can become an even bigger problem.
Novelty, games, challenges, and rewards
Producing dopamine on a normal basis is one thing our brains aren't very good at (one of the reasons we can be prone to depression, for example), but you know what they love? Challenges and rewards.
New things feed our endless curiosity, but for some reason unknown to me, our brains really love challenges and dares. They give us dopamine like we're on a high.
So much so that some people use it as a tactic to perform tasks they don't like: "How many dishes can I wash before my dinner is ready?", "If I can finish this in less than 30 minutes, I can go get chocolate."
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One medium we may like very much for this reason is games. Board games, card games, or virtual games. It doesn't matter. Games provide a very good balance of challenge and reward.
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If you see that Annabel seems overly interested in how this works, it's because there may be a part of her that thinks "aside from the deadly situation we're in…this is like the most hardcore escape room ever" and inevitably there's something here that stirs her bug.
It may be something she loves about Lenore. As a good hypocrite, Annabel despises the rules she knows so well, so when Lenore comes along with this gimmick and completely changes the paradigm of what she knows, there is inevitably something that appeals to her. Others who are good at the game look down on Lenore's disdain for the rules, to Annabel it is fucking appealing because it offers a range of unexplored possibilities that she fucking loves.
Erratic Communication
When our brains are running at full speed, communication can become a challenge, and we tend to exhibit erratic patterns.
One of these is info-dumping. Touch a topic we know about or are interested in and it's like stepping on a landmine: we explode talking about it. Non-stop. You'll have to hit us to shut us up.
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Another thing is that we can have a bad habit of interrupting. A lot. It's not malicious, it's just that we're really into the conversation and want to participate as much as possible.
That said, even if we're extroverts, it can be a nightmare to withhold information or participate in a conversation if it doesn't grab our attention. It's not that we want to be disrespectful or anything, it's just that, again, we have no control over our ability to pay attention and we're swimming against the tide to hold on to whatever it is you're telling us.
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This scene is something I've seen in friends with ADHD and have been told I do: stare at people while doing your best to do the hamster run to remember what they're telling you because you know it's important, even though your brain is putting it together with junk information because it's not engaging your attention in the right way.
Ignore the murderous stare part, it's not that common - at least I hope not.
Drinks that are like a pill
Our brains are not designed to produce certain hormones naturally or, in some cases, they produce them under other circumstances. For things like that, we can take pills, develop strategies to help our brains produce hormones.
And drink coffee. Lots of coffee.
Caffeine can be extremely relaxing for us because it can actually help our brains keep functioning, you know that stereotype of the highly coded ADHD character who drinks coffee like it's his life? Well, that's because.
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You know what other beverage has a similar effect? Tea. Theine is also a natural activator, perhaps less aggressive than coffee, but it can have a similar effect.
If you're interested in describing this topic in fanfic or touching on it in fanart, tea should have a relaxing effect on Annabel and even help her concentrate.
Boredom
We get bored. A lot. And we get painfully bored. Here's what happens: boredom is caused by a lack of stimulation, and our brains aren't stimulated just because we can't regulate our attention to seek out that stimulation.
Add to that the fact that when we are bored, without dopamine hitting our receptors, our executive functions diminish and we function like shit.
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Boredom
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Is
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Fucking
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Murder
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Because our brain starts desperately asking for dopamine and we can fall into really unhealthy behaviors like fighting, being chronically online, or eating because we can't find anything better to do. This also contributes -again- to our depression or anxiety.
Conclusions (and if I don't make the joke, I'll die)
In the book ADHD After Dark (a study of ADHD, relationships, and physical intimacy), Ari Tuckman draws some interesting conclusions, one of which is that on a statistical level, people with ADHD seem to be more likely to have what he calls "sexual eagerness": kinks, fetishes, a tendency to be adventurous in bed, and the like. Again, our brains love play, and both intimacy and flirtation can involve a lot of it.
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So…
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Um…
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…well, I think Lenore will be happy. Good for her.
Anyway, this has been a seriously long explanation. Thanks for reading this far.
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toast-the-unknowing · 5 months
Text
on fanfic plagiarism
Almost five years ago, in January of 2019, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "Word on the Street," had been plagiarized.
I remember that the stolen fic was posted in k-pop fandom, though not what specific band it related to -- I'm not into k-pop, or really into pop music at all.
I remember that the person who messaged me told me that they had found my fic because the plagiarist had a reputation for stealing fic, so when they'd posted a new story, this person had known to do some digging.
I don't remember what the plagiarist's username was. I remember scanning the stolen story, trying both to read every detail and to avoiding taking any of it in, because looking at that right-but-wrong, not-quite-there, uncanny-valley-ness of it made me queasy.
I remember being darkly amused that the plagiarist had cut out the reference to the main character suffering physical abuse at the hands of his father -- I guess it didn't make sense in the context of the new character. It's almost like the story wasn't written for him. It's almost like someone wrote the story about Adam Parrish, instead.
I filed an AO3 complaint, on the grounds that this was a blatant and unarguable violation of their plagiarism policy. Within twenty-four hours, they got back to me, and the story was removed.
It was a weird, uncomfortable, gross feeling, knowing someone had taken words I'd written and passed them off as their own.
But at the same time -- "Word on the Street" was a silly thing I dashed off pretty quickly, during a period of my life when I was doing a lot of writing. It hurt to have it stolen. It was a violation. But…I had other words, that were more important to me. Maybe that was a buffer.
-
Last month, about six weeks ago, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "there's talk going 'round this town," had been plagiarized.
I was, bizarrely, amused.
I was less bizarrely furious. I was understandably, relatably, I would say rationally, furious. But in a way (and as always, when I say in a way, I am calling back to the scholars of overthinkingit.com for whom in a way is meant as the thing I have just said or am about to say is false) -- in a way, I was amused.
The plagiarist clearly did a 'find and replace' on the character names, to replace Adam and Ronan's names with those of k-pop characters. They did a bad job of it, since the name "Ronan" still appears in one paragraph and the name "Parrish" still appears in two paragraphs. The fic is here, in case anyone doesn't believe me, under the name "i do(n't remember)". At first when I complained about the fic on tumblr, I didn't mention the name, or which fic they'd stolen, because I was worried about anyone…I don't know, making a scene. I've stopped caring. AO3 user springguk is bad at find and replace and they should feel bad. About their computer skills, and also about their blatant plagiarism.
springguk also did some more edits to my fic, I have to give them credit for that. I wrote "there's talk going 'round this town" within a relatively short time span, for me. I tend to either finish things within one week, or else take several months. I believe this one took about five or six weeks completely to write -- I was very inspired.
(I was inspired, specifically, by the press coverage of Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves 'discovering' they might be 'accidentally' married. I mention that in my author's notes. springguk doesn't mention what 'inspired' them in their author's notes. I wonder how they talk about it with friends. They do, in their author's notes, include a link to their ko-fi, and a request that people buy them a coffee.)
If I'd taken longer with this fic, I might have made some edits. Even at the time, I knew I was being self-indulgent in letting the scene with my teenage female OC talk at such length with Ronan about what his non-canonical film career had meant to her, a person the audience didn't care about. But I had fun. I liked Fox. I didn't want to cut her, and what the hell, it was fanfic. I decided to self-indulge.
I was darkly amused to find that springguk did cut out the scene with Fox from their plagiarized version. Maybe springguk is a more disciplined editor than I am. Maybe springguk just didn't have a good k-pop character to map Fox onto. Maybe springguk didn't even realize that Fox was an OC. Do you know anything about the fandom you steal fics from, springguk? I can't help but wonder. Have you read The Raven Cycle? Do you care about teenage OCs who steal cars because of fake films that are clearly meant to be stand-ins for The Fast and the Furious franchise?
Maybe springguk just didn't give a fuck, because none of their heart and soul was poured into this fic. I cared too much about Fox. springguk doesn't care about a single word in the fic they published. Why would they? They didn't write it.
I'm being a little mean in naming them so many times. But I'm able to, this time, because although I filed a plagiarism complaint with AO3 six weeks ago, springguk's stolen fic "i do(n't remember)," is still available to read on AO3 to this very day. I don't have to wrack my brains to remember what their username was, or which k-pop band they recast my work with. I can just look at their fic with its 24 comments and 151 kudos. Hell, maybe that fic is even better than mine, if you don't mind that by cutting the sequence with Fox they've sacrificed a fairly substantial development in the romantic relationship, and also if you don't care that at one point the characters names switch from Jeongguk and Taehyung to Ronan and Parrish, because seriously, for fuck's sake, if you're going to steal a fic at least do a goddamn ctrl+f at the end.
I was mad. I was amused. I made a complaint that the AO3, six weeks later, has still not acted on. I mostly moved on.
-
Tonight, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now," had been plagiarized.
I wanted to vomit.
I was supposed to be playing Dungeons and Dragons online with friends tonight; I spent the entire call unable to focus on anything anyone was saying. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on camera and my face wasn't supposed to look like that.
"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is the first of a series of, currently, twelve fics. skytoseungmin, the person who stole it to pass it off as their own work, knew this. Their stolen version was published as part one of a series, though they hadn't published any of the sequels. Presumably, they wanted to wait long enough to make it plausible they'd gone and written the follow ups, instead of just finding them.
skytoseungmin likely didn't know that this fic and this series are intensely personal. They didn't know that the apartment that Adam -- Seungmin, in their ill-gotten version -- lives in, that was based in part off of the apartment I lived in for a year in Pico-Robertson with talldecafcappuccino. They didn't know that the 7-Eleven Adam buys coffee at is the same one I used to tease talldecafcappuccino for buying coffee at. They didn't know that the strip club where Adam and Ronan have their humorously ill-timed romantic revelation outside of, that was the strip club I used to use as a landmark when giving people directions for how to navigate the confusing as fuck freeway exit I lived near, which once caused me to accidentally tell my highly Catholic parents "just go past the strip club and you're good!"
skytoseungmin didn't know that the apartment Adam -- sorry, Seungmin, thoroughly, they were better with find and replace than springguk -- lived in, was also based off of my ex's apartment in Palms, where I as the mere visiting girlfriend was never allowed to park in the parking lot. Where I would sometimes have to spend twenty or thirty minutes circling the neighborhood before I could find parking, often a walk of several minutes away. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when Ronan's car get towed from a McDonald's parking lot, that that was a specific McDonald's on Venice Boulevards, the same one my ex's asshole roommate used to just roll his eyes and say that I should park at. skytoseungmin doesn't know that I once wished passionately that I had just parked in that McDonald's parking lot and risked getting towed, on the occasion that a man followed me several unlit blocks from my car. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when I talk about how helping someone park is the truest love language there is in Los Angeles, that that was what I meant. Has skytoseungmin ever had to circle to half an hour to find parking in Los Angeles? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone enough to do that, instead of saying, fuck it, they can come to me or we're breaking up? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone in Los Angeles enough, to do as my ex did, and come running as fast as humanly possibly when their girlfriend called them whispering and crying on the phone, someone's following me, please, I'm scared, I wish I just parked at the McDonald's?
"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is a very personal fic.
It isn't half as personal as some of the fics that come after.
skytoseungmin marked their plagiarized version of the fic as part one of a series. Were they planning on stealing part two, where I, through an alternate universe characterization of Ronan Lynch, dig into my experience of grief and trauma surrounding my grandmother's dementia? Were they planning on stealing any of the explicit fics, where I play with kink and desire in ways I haven't even exposed to my actual sexual partners, but where I felt able to through the guise of fandom? What else was skytoseungmin planning on stealing, with charming little author's notes apologizing for how they missed the fandom-relevant date they were shooting for, because they were so busy with exams, tee-hee! Why the excuses, skytoseungmin? how long does it take you to ctrl+f, even if you are more thorough about it than springguk?
If I seem too accusatory and mean-spirited toward skytoseungmin, well, the LA verse is a very personal fic.
And it's also, it turns out, only one of eight different fics that they stole from me.
I didn't even notice at first, to be honest. I was too stunned. But my friend Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went to my defense and clicked through to the author's page, while I was still reeling at the horrible possibilities of part one of a series. It turned out, of eight fics on skytoseungmin's author's page…I had written every single one of them.
Some were short and pretty lighthearted, things I hadn't had to invest too much of myself into -- like I said, sometimes, I can write a fic in under a week.
Other things…
They stole the space western AU.
I don't think I can articulate to any human being how much that hurt me, to look at it, to see.
I wrote that as a thank you gift for someone who donated to Fandom Trumps Hate.
I spent nearly two years of my life on it -- two years during which, because of mental health issues and life situation changes, my words per year dropped precipitously. I still haven't recovered. I still think of what a failure I am for not writing more, currently, actively, and I remember how the space western AU was both a symptom of that and a defiance of it: yes, writing has become fucking hard, fucking NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, but I'm still doing it, goddamn it, you can't stop me, even if all I produce is the tiniest trickle of words a month. it can still add up, somehow, if we just keep TRYING.
To see the space western AU, casually nestled amongst a half dozen other fics that were all apparently casually dashed off in the same month…I know it was theft, I know it was a lie, but it still felt like a slap in the face, why can't you write this fast?
Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went on a campaign of commenting on all of skytoseungmin's (my) fics, and I am so thankful. The k-pop fans who heard Jessie have been reaching out, to her, to me, to each other on Twitter, and I am so thankful for them too. skytoseungmin has deleted all of their (my) fics on AO3, and their entire AO3 account, and their entire twitter, apparently. Maybe they were hoping to get enough clicks to parlay them into some kind of book deal, and they'd now rather give up what was a low investment effort on their part than be associated with accusation of plagiarism.
I suppose they can always start over with a new user name and someone else's fics if they really want to.
I suppose they can always start over with a new username and my fics, if they really want to.
And after all, AO3 has still not reached out to me about springguk, and "i do(n't remember)" is still sitting there. Maybe springguk is also going for a book deal. Who knows?
Why complain about any of it?
In a way* (and remember what "in a way" means), isn't it a compliment, if someone loves the words I wrote, even if they don't know it was me that wrote them? toast-the-unknowing and shinealightonme, if they're the same name (and they are), then why not springguk or skytoseungmin, too?
Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Does everyone just have their work stolen from them, all of the time? Is that simply the cost of doing business in an era and an ecosystem where we all can copy and paste twenty-four thousand words with greater ease than our ancestors could transcribe a single phrase? Are more prolific, more famous, more successful fan authors looking at my piteous cries and thinking, bitch, you've only been ripped off by k-pop fans ten times, come back when you have real problems?
And yet in a month, a year, a whole life phase of not being able to write as much as I would like to, because of my health, because of my work, to have someone else just casually pass off the words I have managed to eke out, as though they have no value, as though it were no more than photo copying a shitty flier to stick under a windshield wiper…
I can't imagine springguk or skytoseungmin give a shit how I feel about any of this. At best, they roll their eyes; at worst they laugh to know they hurt me -- and what's the difference between the two? I'll never know either way.
I know that some of the people they duped do care, and are also upset. That helps. And also, it doesn't help.
I just fucking hate all of this, and if all I have are words, and if my words are valuable enough for someone to steal, then here, here are enough of them to choke on. I know I did.
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lacrimosathedark · 3 months
Text
THAT'S IT! This is a Janet Drake Defense Post
As may be obvious, I spend a lot of time reading fanfic. And there's this trend that drives me nuts, and it's villainizing Janet Drake.
I'm not gonna say she's an A+ mother. She's not. She chose her career and adventures over spending time with her child much of the time. But fandom portrays her as some rich pompous ice queen, which is never shown.
Janet Drake mostly appears in the story Tim's introduced, and in the story she dies.
So, let's start from the top: Haly's Circus.
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This event is the only time we see her really interacting with Tim before her death, but it shows that at least when he was young, she was an active part of his life. She was worried about bringing Tim because it might scare him. And then rightfully scolds her husband for being sexist because Jack Drake actually IS a jerk.
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...I don't like the art in this comic. Or that the writer doesn't know how kids speak.
But Janet is being supportive of Tim's clear interest in Dick's performance.
And then tragedy strikes and she acts like, y'know, a mother.
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Her priority is getting her son and herself out of there.
Also worth noting that the Drakes sent a copy of that final photo of the Graysons TO Dick, which is how he has it at all. If both of them were stuck up pricks, would they even bother sending a photo to a grieving child performer they hardly know? I can't imagine Jack really bothering, but I don't see why Janet wouldn't.
And then, by the time she's dying, we know that Tim's parents have been away for a very long time, he never knows where they are, but they've communicated enough that he knows that they've been fighting.
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They're passive aggressive to say the least. This marriage is clearly not working anymore.
EDIT CUZ I REMEMBERED A THING:
It's worth noting that this is a time before smartphones. This comic was released in 1990, which was when pre-paid mobile phones had just started existing. Coverage isn't universal NOW, so back then it was even less, and Jack and Janet are archeologists (or archeologist adjacent?) so they're going to be in less developed and populated areas most of the time. It's unlikely they'd have consistent access to a functional phone that could call the states to talk to Tim regularly.
This isn't to defend their absence, because fuck that, but it's to give it some context. I don't think they were trying to ignore or abandon Tim. Communication was just not readily available and Janet seems to get wrapped up in work...and Jack's an asshole.
Also for note, Janet is probably the one sending Tim postcards in the first place. It being signed "Mom and Dad" is what makes me think that. Jack would have put himself first if he wrote it, it woulda said "Dad and Mom". That's admittedly pure speculation, BUT IT FITS SOOOOOO
My thought is if this were made modern, Janet would be sending extremely scattered texts and Tim would get next to nothing from Jack unless Janet prompted him.
END EDIT
(Fair warning, this story is a few levels of Yikes, but I'm gonna stay on topic)
Bad guy Obeah Man does...something? to the pilot, and they crash, and he has a group of people kidnap the Drakes and their assistant Jeremy.
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Danger really puts some things in perspective, for Janet, at least. And that continues for her. Jack is a bit delusional and in denial, thinking he has any control of the situation.
They are tied up and filmed for ransom, their assistant killed right in front of them.
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Jack just keeps raging, but Janet is having regrets. Notice how she doesn't cry until Tim is brought up. Could be nothing, could be something.
And then she dies.
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Her only other major appearance is when Tim is having a fever dream from the Clench and everything is kind of okay for a minute.
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Tim very clearly loves his mom. And we may not get a lot of characterization for her, but she's not cold or callous like people write her constantly.
And now, we finally have a little more about her as of Batman 134.
I haven't really been keeping up since the Gotham War stuff because What The Fuck Was That My Guy, but I recently saw this specific comic.
The multiverse is fucked up again, some way some how, and Bruce is lost (again) and Tim has to get him back (again). This time, Tim is going in after him. But he doesn't end up going straight to Bruce.
He goes to see an alt of his mom.
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Tim missed her so much that he ended up going to her before Bruce.
And her immediate reaction is to run up and hug him. Does that look like a mother who doesn't love her son?
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"Do you have anyone to take care of you?"
"I don't know how this happened, this miracle...but I just know, in my heart of hearts, it was to show me...that every version of my son is a good one."
Tell me again that this woman is heartless and didn't want her son, I fucking dare you.
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And we get more meaning to the name "Robin" and a little crumb about Tim's grandmother. As a treat.
This is all to say, please stop writing Janet Drake as a cold, heartless bitch.
Small final note though: Jack Drake is, in fact, a shitty person and a shitty father. He does still love Tim and Tim loves him AND THAT IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE, but the relationship is a mess. If either parent is actively abusive, it's 1000% Jack "smashed a TV because my son wasn't listening to me and threatened Bruce Wayne at gunpoint" Drake. Probably part of why the marriage was falling apart.
Anyway, yeah, let's retire the "Jack and Janet Drake are Bad Parents" tag and replace it with "Jack Drake is a Bad Parent" and "Janet Drake's C+ Parenting" or something.
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tinkerleaf · 3 months
Note
Ok, may I ask for a yandere chuuya x pm!moon (info on her is on my blog)
Yandere!Chuuya Nakahara x PM!Reader
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Thank you for your request! For this one, I will leave the name blank so it remains as an x reader fic. I wasn't sure what exactly I should write for this one, so I hope it's okay! I kinda hate how it turned out.
Synopsis: Chuuya keeps an eye on you :)
Warnings: Yandere themes, possible cringe (first fanfic teehee)
Word Count: 729
Chuuya was not used to feeling this way about another person. As a mafia executive, he had taught himself not to harbor feelings for anyone due to the nature of his career. But he just couldn’t help it. He was your superior, and he knew better than to pursue you, but that didn’t stop him. After being on missions with him and proving your worth, he became fascinated with you and your ability.
Dazai was able to pick up on his feelings for you rather quickly, despite Chuuya trying his best not to show it. “I never thought I’d see you get soft for one of your subordinates.” He mocked.
That was the first time he realized that his infatuation wasn’t just a little crush. Dazai was right. Every time you entered a room, his eyes lit up.
He could feel his face flush, and honestly, it made him sick. To think that someone was able to break through his exterior and find a way into his heart. It was incomprehensible to him. Not just anyone could do that. Only you could do that. There was something unique about you that he had to have. He needed you, and he hated it. He hated you, but oh, how he loved you. He hated how you had so much power over his emotions, but he loved the thrill of it all.
One night, you caught him following you. At first, you were a little frightened by the dark figure looming in the alley. However, once you realized it was only Chuuya, your worries melted away.
“Chuuya?”
His heart practically stopped when he heard you call for him. “Yeah, it’s me. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”
“Do you do that…every night?”
“Of course not.” Yes, he did. He watched you every single night on your walk home. He couldn’t just let someone find you and take you away. He had to know exactly where you were at all times, just to be safe.
He had placed a microscopic tracker on the back of your watch when you took it off to shower. You didn’t realize it was there, but it gave him full access to your location.
“How was Tokyo?” He asked you when you came back from a trip to visit family.
“Oh, the weather was-” You paused. You never told him anything about leaving town for the weekend. “How did you know that?”
“Hm?” He messed up. “Sweetheart, I’m your superior. If I wasn’t aware of your whereabouts, what kind of a boss would I be?” He tried to save himself with a rather terrible cover. You weren’t entirely convinced, but let it go for the time being.
After a few weeks, you noticed something dimly flash from your watch. Under further investigation, you found the tracker. After some time of panicking over who could possibly be stalking you, you froze. It all began to make sense.
The next morning, you threw the watch on his desk in front of him. “Are you serious?”
Feigning confusion, he asked what you were so angry about.
“Don’t even pretend! You put a tracker on me!”
He picked up the watch and examined it. The wires from the locator were popped out, which explained why your signal wasn’t picking up on his phone. “I do this for all of my subordinates.”
“No, you don’t!” You fought back. “I asked every other person on the team, and they didn’t have a CLUE what I was talking about! Tell me what’s going on!”
He stared back at you for a few moments before answering you. “It’s simple, actually. You belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth.
He sighed. “I’ll admit it. I placed the tracker in your watch. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?”
You were dumbfounded. “Why? None of this makes any sense!” You went to leave the room, but the door was locked.
“If you think I’d let you go that easily, you’d be mistaken.”
From that day forward, you never left his sight. He made sure you were always near him, no matter the circumstance. You should have seen the signs before all of this had unfolded. His bright eyes locked onto you, and you realized you would never be able to get away from him.
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anakin-pilled · 4 months
Text
𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: no use of y/n
rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!
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You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.
Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush. 
After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire. 
You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you.  You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love. 
The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.
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Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse. 
Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt. 
Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought. 
Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together. 
As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face. 
You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”
“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.
“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions. 
“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?” 
You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”
“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly. 
You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different. 
“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine. 
“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy. 
You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could. 
Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”
“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”
“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous. 
“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.
“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin. 
“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”
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You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy. 
The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger. 
“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first. 
Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life. 
Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.” 
“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector.  He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you. 
“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.
You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”
Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer. 
“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin. 
It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.
“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine. 
“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished. 
“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”
Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a  fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.  
“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction. 
You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked. 
“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.
“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face. 
You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner. 
“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time. 
The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food. 
Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down. 
You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert. 
“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it. 
You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.
Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from. 
You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”
He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child. 
“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”
Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls. 
You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face. 
“Well, I think it’s time we head back.” 
Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules. 
You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure. 
Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him.  Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one. 
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taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):
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One Hell Of A First Mission - Task Force 141!Platonic x F!Reader - JOKER
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Summary: The very first mission you (JOKER) go on with Task Force 141, you end up clearing a house and finding the one person you need to find wasn’t there anymore. You’re then quickly flown out to meet the Los Vaqueros which results in you jumping off a cliff and being helped out by the one person you wish you never had to work with again. (THIS FOLLOWS THE LINES OF THE START OF THE COD:MWII 2022. And is before the events of JOKER and the previous parts)
Proof Read: NOPE
Pairing: Task Force 141!Platonic x Female!Reader
WordCount: 5k
Age Rating: 16+ preferably
Codename: JOKER
KEY: Y’all should know this by now… Y/N - Your Name so on and so forth
Warning/Info: Normal COD Stuff, Guns, violence, swearing, depiction of action, horrible writing on my part. Kinda a slow burn but it is the back story of how JOKER join the 141. Philip Graves gets his own fuckin’ warning. Sorry not sorry. A lot of time skips, because I’m following the plot of the game for this one the next chapters coming!
PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS PARTS TO GET A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF JOKER! (If you want) This does take place before the events of JOKER and the previous parts.
Previous Parts can be found here: MASTERLIST (And other things I’ve written)
TagList: @studywithrosie01 Sorry for tagging you but you’ve shown so much love for this series so I thought I should tag for you this part! I hope you don’t mind! And @robins-fanfics (I hope I got the right user name lol) (Tell me if you want to be added or taken off the tag list for this series!)
———————————————————————
Your boot taps the ground rapidly, hands curled around the gun in your lap. “Calm down kid, they aren’t that scary” Price states, you’ve known him for a long while. He’s practically your dad at this point, he helped you throughout your career in the military. Pushed you to your limit to get you into the SAS which you’re beyond thankful for, yet right now you’re wondering if that was a bright idea. You’re meeting up with the Lieutenant of the Task Force that Price has made. You were the first one to meet Laswell in person, she had a nice, friendly smile but you could tell she is tough as nails. “I know Captain, but… he’s ‘The Ghost’ the man everyone is scared of, he bloody appears outta nowhere!” You state, looking over at the bearded man, he shakes his head lightly. “Well, you’ll be following his lead for now kid. He’s being instructed by Shepherd on this mission” you sigh at hearing this, you’ve had a few run-ins with the US military a few times. They couldn’t understand your accent for the life of them, that’s one of the many cons from living in a household with multiple accents under one roof.
You have no clue what this mission is going to be like, you’re meeting up with another man apparently. He’s meeting you and Lieutenant Riley at the tarmac, just as you’re scheduled to fly out. You can’t help the nerves that are filling your energy, the jitters of anticipation and the fear of what is to come next. “I’ll see you soon kid, stay safe” Price states, drawing you out of your running mind. You nod to him as you give him a fist pump, a light head bump. You two have always done that, a fist pump which turns into a light head bump of good luck, and see you soon. You never part ways without it.
You steel your nerves as you walk out onto the air field, catching a plane to meet up with the Lieutenant and the new guy. Not sure what to expect of your new team mates when you meet them, or how they operate. But there’s excitement bubbling in your veins.
———
“So you’re the new kid?” A grumbly voice sounds out from behind you. Spinning on your heel you come face to face with the signature skull of Lieutenant Riley. “Yes Sir” you state, not breaking eye contact, even though the cold sweat dripping down the back of your neck is screaming at you to run. “Come on then” he states, walking past you, his large frame towering over you, gulping back the nerves you trot after him. Quickly falling into step with the man.
The engine and blades of the chopper are loud, the wind it’s creating ruffling your jacket as you stand next to the Lieutenant. Both of you have stopped when an armoured vehicle with a bunch of soldiers in the back pulled up. Ghost was talking with Shepherd, “The Sergeant?” Ghost questions, he knew you were coming but didn’t know himself and another person were going to be leading this operation. Your interest piqued when you hear him say that. You subconsciously readjust the balaclava that’s on your face slightly, the sinister joker-like smile staring at anyone who looks. You watch as men jump off the armoured vehicle, waiting to see who is this new Sergeant that’s going to be leading you and other men into a war zone with the Lieutenant.
A man in a dark jacket approached you both as soon as he jumped off the vehicle. A smirk on his face already. “Let’s get ourselves a win, yeah L.T?” He states, bumping the Lieutenant’s shoulder with his fist. “Save ya a seat, sir…” you watch the exchange with raised brows, the black war paint around your eyes cracking slightly. The man nods to you too, the smile back on his face as he jogs off towards the chopper. “See you on the Chopper, Lieutenant” you state, quickly following the Sergeant. You hear a faint “Fucking Hell…” from behind you, a short snort leaving you as you jump onto the ramp. Looking for a seat. Waving from the corner of your eye catches your attention, it’s the Sergeant. You smile under your mask as you make your way over, throwing yourself into the seat.
“They call me Soap!” He states, holding his hand out to you, you take his hand with a firm grip. “Joker! Good to meet ya!” You notice the Scottish accent, it’s interesting to hear one compared to all the English accents you hear on a daily basis. Your nerves have been drowned out by the adrenaline rushing through your veins. This Soap seems to have a good energy about him, you could get used to this.
————
“Bravo team offloads here. Alpha team stays on board to land down range. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill” the Lieutenant states as he approaches the ramp that is lowering to let Brave team out. Both you and Soap stand to follow Ghost, you flick down your night vision as soon as you step out. You snicker lightly at hearing Ghost saying “Keep up Soap” honestly surprised he didn’t say that to you instead.
You kneel in the grass, out of the way of the chopper as it takes off to drop Apha team off down range. You jog after Lieutenant Riley, keep a few paces behind him. Your sniper rifle in your hands as your Semi Automatic is strapped to your back. You hear the radio chatter of the chopper in your ear, it’s louder than the blood rushing through your veins as you weave through the ruins of a stone building. You're zoned in on the mission, keeping your eyes peeled for anything and everything.
Suddenly you hear the frantic calls from the chopper, the whooshing hissing sound of a RPG being launched echoes through the night. The flares are not helping the chopper for the second missile. You come to a halt at the top of the small hill, the ground shakes form the impact of the aircraft plummeting into the ground. “Shit…” you curse under your breath, your knee digging into the dirt below you as Soap crouches down on your right and Ghost on your left. “Alpha, what’s your status?” Ghost asks over the comms, the crackling sound of coughing breaks through the haze. “Alpha, how copy?…” Ghost pushes for an answer. “Shit…” you curse under your breath. You block out the conversation over the comms, raising the Sniper up. Watching the flames lick the ground like a hungry beast, another missile hitting the chopper along with countless bullets raining down onto the downed bird.
“Ghost we need to secure the crash site now” Soap calls, his eyes moving from the chopper to the Lieutenant. “First, we clear for Hassan, that takes the heat off Alpha. Then we secure the crash site. Clear?” The timbre of Ghost’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. “Roger that.” Both you and Soap reply. “Let’s move” as soon as his words leave his mouth, you’re off your knees immediately, quickly falling in behind Ghost. Your boots hit the hard earth like thunder on the horizon, your rifle up and ready. You weave around small bushes, following Ghost through the low walls of what looks like a garden. “Force up to the house” his command is clear as you branch off to the side, Soap filling the gap between you and Ghost. You position yourself on the other side of the door, looking down the scope of your rifle. You glance up at Ghost and nod to him, he nods back to you and Soap. You hear the muffled yells of  “Kill all that they send here!” From the other side of the door. “Breacher Up” Ghost calls as he swings the heavy breacher into the wooden door.
—— Time Skip —— Mission With Los Vaqueros —
Your heart is thumping in your ears as you groan, pushing yourself to your hands and knees. “You good lass?” Soap questions, both of you just dropped down to a ledge on the side of a cliff. It has a hearty drop. You’re following a few of the men who work for Alejandro. Ghost is watching from above you, Alejandro with him. “Y-Yeah..” you cough, gripping your gun tightly as you turn around. “Oh hell no” you state, seeing the gap between the ledge you’re on and the one you have to jump to. Alejandro says something about cutting school and playing around these parts when he was younger. “Until the cartels moved in?” Soap quips before taking a running leap onto the ledge in front of you. Alejandro and Ghost jump down, quickly cutting in front of you and Soap. They easily shuffle along the small ledge on the side of the cliff, backs pressed against the wall as they move along it, you swallow down the nerves in your throat. Soap goes ahead of you, followed by Rodriguez - one of Alejandro's men - then you follow after. Your hands shake as you shuffle along the wall. Then the sound of a bullet flying past your head into the rock wall behind you makes you freeze. Ghost yells something that you don’t process as you watch Rodrigues get shot multiple times. His body falling away from the cliff, rag dolling down.
“JOKER MOVE IT!” Soap yells, ducking when a bullet flys over head. You shake your head free of fog, quickly shuffling most the way, taking the risk of leaping to the ledge. You do a tactical roll when you hit the ground, sliding up onto your knees. Breathing heavily, you don’t get a chance to breathe, Soap already pulling you up by your arm. You push yourself up onto the ledge that's higher, running after Soap and Alejandro. Ghost right on your heels. You throw yourself off the ledge onto the one that's lower, landing on your feet, stumbling into a sprint again. Rifle gripped tightly in your hands. You watch Soap disappear behind the lip of the ledge, realising you're gonna have to slide. Your hand falls behind you as you stick one of your legs out to brace yourself while sliding down the rough rock face, thankful you're wearing gloves and thick cargo pants. You stand just behind the others as they stand at the edge of the cliff, Ghost sneers out a “You led us to a dead end, mate.” You internally curse Alejandro.
Your blood runs cold when you see the Mexican soldier launch himself off the cliff, yelling out “We jump from here!”. “WHAT THE FUCK!” You yell, quickly looking over the ledge. “Don’t lose your weapon” he yells just before he lands in the water. “Your turn, Sergeant!” Ghost states, both you and Soap look between each other. “See ya down there, Lass.” He quips, doing a two finger salute before jumping. You back away from the ledge slightly, your head whips towards the Lieutenant. “Go kid, there’s no time! We stay here, we’re dead. Now jump!” you gulp as you tighten your grip on the rifle, you take a running leap off the ledge. You plunge into the icy water, your eyes screwing shut just before the impact. You quickly resurface, the water soaking the balaclava. Not helping with breathing, your breathing is heavy as you tread water. “You good, hermanos?” Alejandro asks. “Affirm” Ghost states, he’s next to you. “Soap?” The Scotsman nods his head “Breathing” he quips. “Joker?” You let out a small cough, shaking your head lightly to get the water out of your face. “Alive…” you mumble.
“Move down river to the bridge. Use the rocks for cover” Alejandro instructs, you all take off swimming down the river. You’re thankful you're going with the current, cause god knows you would’ve bailed and just went on land if you were desperate enough. Alejandro tries contacting someone on comms, you're too focused on not letting your heavy tactical gear get caught on anything under water, or drag you to the river bed. “Radio’s picking up somethin.” Soap states, you’re in the middle of the group, your smaller size getting dragged by the current quicker than the others. “Sounds American” Ghost states, he’s just behind you on your right. “Great, Yanks” you sneer. Everyone dives as soon as a vehicle comes into view, Alejandro stops behind a rock. Soap right behind him, Ghost a little further down. Before you can even attempt to stop at one of the rocks, Ghost grabs the strap of your vest, dragging you up next to him. “Thanks Lieutenant.” you mumble, you are situated just below the large long log that’s fallen across the river, resting on the large rock both you and Ghost are behind. You duck occasionally whenever bullets whiz past your head. Your feet slip and you plunge into the water, resurfacing quickly. Gasping for air as you grip onto the rough rock, you're thankful for the strap on your stifle still around your shoulder. “Fuckin hell” you curse.
“Keep pushing up river.” Alejandro calls. You groan as you struggle to keep your head above the water, and your gun trained on the shore where the enemies are. All three of the men are six foot plus, while you're below all their chins on flat ground. You dive underwater, seeing Ghost come to a stop at another set of rocks, Alejandro and Soap go around the two of you and perch themselves slightly down from you. You practically throw yourself onto the rock shelf that's just below the water, taking the short time to regain your breath. “Move up river! Go!” Alejandro calls again, you groan as you see them move off. Your eyes meet Ghost’s for a second. You bite your tongue and push off the rock, following after them. You dive under a log that's just above the water's surface. You resurface just behind a rock, coming face to face with a Mexican soldier who has their gun aimed at you, you're quick to train your rifle on them, letting a bullet lodge itself in the man's skull.
“The rivers slowing us down, mate!” Ghost calls, you can tell he’s agitated by being in the water for so long. “It gets shallow up ahead!” Alejandro states. “Oh thank god, the waters up to my fucking eyes!” You call, shooting down a few more men that are on the shore. You feel like your skin is in ice cold water, your clothing sticks to you as your plate carrier weighs you down. Boots slipping over the algae covered rocks, you just wanna rip the boots off your feet and the plate carrier off your chest. You push your way through the water, quickly grabbing the rock. You’re beyond thankful for the shallow water, you are crouched low behind a rock. You hear your lieutenant’s strong accent cut through the air, your stomach dropping when you hear what he’s saying. “Vehicles on the bridge!” You whip your head around to look at the bridge, “They’re not ours!” Alejandro calls “Fuck-! It’s the army!” You peek over the edge of the rock to look, eyes widening to see the heavily armoured vehicles roll onto the bridge. “Get to cover!” Ghost calls, you quickly duck back down and press your back up against the rock. “We have to hold here and get extraction” Alejandro states. Soap slides up next to you, Ghost next to him then Alejandro. “We can’t do shite against that armour!” The Scotsman states, you reload as you listen to the firefight happening.
Suddenly an American accent cuts through the firefight “This is shadow-1! Engaging the bridge north of your position. Danger close!” You realise who is speaking, it's Philip Graves, the man you’ve worked with in the past. “Who the hell is that?” Alejandro asks, “Commander Graves. Shadow Company. They’re with us.” Ghost states, he glances at you when he realises you’ve gone very quiet when the American’s voice cuts through. The rumble of the bridge getting hit by the large shots trembling the ground, you watch as the bridge crumbles  “Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7! Good Shots! Fire for effect!” Ghost says over the comms. “All stations, no enemy movement detected. You’re clear.” Graves states over the comms, you sigh as you stand shaking out your shoulders. “It’s good to see you boys.” You grumble lightly under your breath when the American states this “Likewise, mate” Ghost states, he nudges you to move when Alejandro calls ‘This way!’ You fall into a run, splashing through the water, jumping over a few larger rocks. “Graves, we’ve located a vehicle for exfil.” Ghost states as you all run up the slight hill from the river towards a pick up. “Roger that. Be advised, we got a possible hit on Hassan, two kicks north of your position.” Grave states, you roll your neck as you come to halt by the back door of the pick up, climbing into the back. “That’s cartel land. They have a compound there.” Alejandro states, you’ve been quiet the entire time. “Load in!” Ghost calls. “Shadow-1, stand-by…” You watch as Ghost slides in next to you, Soap climbing into the front seat and Alejandro into the driver's seat. “I’ll drive,” Alejandro states. “You boys, good to roll up Hassan with some fire from the sky?” Graves asks, everyone looks at each other. The boys nod, you just shrug as you look out the window. Ghost watches you with a raised brow hidden under his mask. “Let’s wrap this fucker up, Graves” Soap states. “Solid copy. We are pushing to the target di-rectly. Shadow-1 out.” You slump back into the seat. Letting out a sigh, you rub the space between your brows, pushing the balaclava up a little.
—— Time skip to grabbing Hassan ——
“Breaching” Soap calls, the door gets bashed open by the Scotsman. “They’re here!” “Get the Major upstairs!” Multiple cartel members yell. You’re the first one to shoot down a few men and spot the man you’re all here for, you quickly switch on the comms, the throat mic switching on. “Shadow-1! Positive ID on Hassan!” You call, rushing forward. “He’s moving upstairs!” Soap calls, he’s right behind you, followed by Ghost and Alejandro. Grave’s brows raise when he recognises the female voice come through the comms. “Graves, he’s exiting the second floor! North-west side!” Ghost states over the comms. “Got a visual on Hassan!” Alejandro states, you're quickly moving across the second floor outside. You ignore whatever is happening over the comms, you enter the building again. “Get down!” Soap calls “Get down! Now!” Alejandro growls. “Get the fuck down!” You sneer, your sights aimed directly at Hassan’s head, “Who the fuck are you?” Hassan questions, his voice holding venom. The man who was with Hassan is now dead on the ground, Alejandro moves forward. “Mexican Special Forces, you're coming with us…” the restraints get secured around the man's wrists. You can see the anger in Alejandro's movements when he restrains Hassan, you keep your gun trained on Hassan. “Shadow-1, Bravo 0-7. Jackpot. I say again, jackpot. Target is secure.” Ghost states over the comms, you look over at the Lieutenant. Graves asks a question about the exfil, which Alejandro answers. Soap slaps a hand down on your shoulder, giving you a nod of approval. You nod back, a small smile hidden under your mask. A few moments of conversations between Graves and Ghost gets drowned out by the rumbling of heavy tires on the earth, your own stomach twists into uncomfortable knots as you realise that it's the Mexican Army. “For fucks sakes. Do we ever get a break?” You ask, the question not directed to anyone. “Not this time ‘round Lass” Soap states as he looks out the window towards all the heavy armoured vehicles.
Graves says something about the shadows being able to engage the convoy, the next thing you know is the whisper of a large 25mm round flying through the air. The deep thunderous sound of it hitting the earth shakes the building, the sound of metal crunching and being destroyed rings in your ears as you look around the room. The earth continues to shake when smaller rounds and bigger rounds make contact witht he earth, your blood is bubbling under the service, you need to move. You want to do something and not just sit around and wait for your next order. The next thing you know you're running down the stairs at breakneck speed, Hassan being dragged behind you as you kick open the door to the outside, the exfil vehicle ready for you all. Ghost cuts in front of you as you get out the door, followed by Alejandro then Soap who has Hassan in a death grip. You spin around keeping your gun up and looking for any movement that needs to be dealt with. “Come on! Come on!” Rodolfo calls over the comms, you are happy to see him again. Hassan spits something out that you don’t quite catch as the screeching of tires and the blood rushing through your ears is all you can hear. You do clearly hear Soap growl out a “Shut the fuck up!” When he shoves Hassan into the side of the Vehicle. “Fuuuuuck” you groan as you realise you're the smallest on the team, you immediately open the door and climb over the back seat into the back compartment of the vehicle. Rodolfo and Alejandro speak to each other in Spanish, you only make out a few words as you're trying to get comtoble in the one spot no one is supposed to really sit in these types of vehicles. “We’re good!” Soap calls, “Go!” Ghost growls. “Joker?” Rodolfo asks as he glances up in the rear view mirror, spotting you peeking over the back of the seat between Ghosts’ and Hassan's head. “Happy as Larry!” You joke, you're not comfortable by any means but you know you just want to get the hell out of here already.
—— Time Skip To Interrogation of Hassan ——
You sit on the hood of one of the Vehicles, the headlights cutting through the thick blanket of darkness that covers the desert. The animals of the night linger just beyond the lights. Alejandro and Soap drag Hassan into the middle of the group of vehicles, shoving him to his knees with a bag over his head. “On your knees” Soap growls out as he steps back. You got here before Graves did, you aren’t happy about having to conduct this interrogation with the American present, you hated working with him in the past and right now you still are sour about being near him, especially on a mission that you were hoping to just be yourself and the 141 accompanied by the Los Vaqueros. Graves is kneeling down setting up the laptop which has General Shepherd and Laswell on the other end, your Criss cross applesauce on the hood of the vehicle. “Y’all got a clear picture?” You cringe at the drawl in his words. You hear a “Crystal” and a “All Set” fromt he other two members of the video call. You inch your way forward to have your feet dangling off the edge of the hood as soon as Graves moves away, your feet coming to rest on the bumper. “Alright, we are live, folks” Graves states as he approaches Hassan, the bag no longer on the kneeling man's head.
“Do you sepal Arabic?” Hassan questions, looking up at Graves.
“No one other than you” you mumble, knowing he won't hear you.
“No” Grave relplies.
“Farsi?”
“No.”
“Course not.” Hassan states with a smirk playing on his lips, “Then I’ll speak your bastardised Medieval English because you are all uneducated street dogs” You jump off the hood to curse him out in every language that you have learnt, but you get held back by a heavy hand. You look over your shoulder at who has stopped you, Ghost shakes his head lightly knowing that anger that is bubbling in you. You have too much adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
“Ahh, see… we’re getting off to a bad start here, Hassan” Graves starts as he tucks his thumbs into the top of his tac vest and looks down at the ground, something he always does when he's about to interrogate someone. “You are talking to a Quds Force officer” Hassan states. Graves leans in slightly, “You’re the commander of a foreign terror organisation” “I can say the same to you.” You know Hassan is gonna get under everyone’s skin, but you know damn well that Philip Graves has that skill as well. “What’s your target, “Major”?” You almost snort at the way Hassan’s brows scrunch in displeasure.
“What was your target when they sent missiles to my land?” Hassan questions.
“Oh well, wild guess… To nail your ass” Graves looks down at Hassan.
“So insolent and foul-mouthed. You will learn to respect me when your nation sees fire”
Graves steps closer to Hassan “You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan” he starts “If you disappeared, no one would know where to look for the fuckin’ stain” he growls out through a tight lipped frown.
A small shiver runs down your spin when you hear Hassan let out a small tiny pathetic chuckle of a ‘ha’.
“I have no doubt you’ll take pleasure in torturing me.” Hassan states when he looks back up at Grave from shaking his head lightly, a smile on his face. This time Soap speaks, his voice accent thick compared to the others.
“Who’d you get American missiles from?” You lean your elbows onto your knees, you jerk lightly when you suddenly hear General Shepherd speak. Almost forgetting him and Laswell are on the video call.
“I don’t care who they’re from. I wanna know where they’re going.” You almost want to yell at the older man, for overpowering Soap’s question which was a good question.
Graves was looking at the laptop before stepping away from Hassan, that's when the laughing yaps of coyotes cut through the air. They sound close, not too close but close enough for you to not feel comfortable. Graves walks a few half paces before turning around to look at Hassan. “Take a look around, Hassan” he states before stepping up the man and leaning down to get in his face “Now you can either become part of the food chain or you can start talking.” You watch the conversation from the shadows, just like your Lieutenant. “I’m a hostage here.” Hassan states, “This is illegal.” Alejandro speaks up from behind Hassan. “You’re a prisoner of war.” Hassan turns to look over his shoulder at the Mexican. “Iran is not at war with Mexico. I’ve broken no laws.” He turns to look back at Graves and motions his head to his surroundings “These men and their commanders are the law breakers.” He glances over towards you and Ghost but you can tell he is mainly looking at the laptop, he still makes eye contact with you through the haze of the lights, and with Ghost. You stare the man down, the dark oil paint on your skin making your eyes stand out against the rest of your dark outfit.
Ghost takes a small step forward “You and your beloved General Ghorbrani broke every—-” “DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!” Hassan yells, cutting Soap off. “You executed him and you will pay for your crimes…” he pauses briefly “Only god can help you now-” he yells in his mother tongue. You understood him barely, you wanted to snatch a knife from Ghost’s plate carrier and throw it between the screaming man's eyes. You attention cuts to below you, where General Shepherd's voice comes from the laptop “I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass…” he sneers, Laswell is quick to cut in “General, killing Hassan is an act of war, keeping him is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold.” She’s right, you all know this is illegal but you’re still doing it. “Tell me you’re getting something actionable, Laswell.” The general growls, you move to slide off the hood of the vehicle when Laswell states something about working on it.
You stand next to Ghost who has moved over slightly to allow you to jump down. You both watch as Graves brings the laptop onto the hood of the vehicle. Grave's voice lowers as he looks at the laptop. “Actual, let me finish this” you tense up his words, you glance over at Soap and Alejandro then to Ghost who is just staring at Graves with no emotion in his eyes. Yet you can still see the thoughts playing like a movie. You focus back into what Shepherd is saying, only catching the end half of his sentence. “Without proof we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us” you watch as Graves leans away, Soap quickly walking up and leaning into the conversation. “He’s right here. You can’t be serious” his voice is low gravely when he speaks, his accent a strong contrast to the others. Graves moves off the side slightly, Ghost as step forward an inch, his arm coming in front of you when he sees Graves look at you. “I’m afraid I am, son.” Shepherd says. You look down, looking at the phone in Ghost’s hand. “Laswell, did we get anything from his phone?” You bet Ghost to it, he looks at you with a clearly raised brow, you can tell. You give him the same look. “Affirmative. We got a hit.” Laswell states, “Good” the General pauses “Now take him back and let him go”. Ghost moves slightly, making eye contact witht eh eyes and nodding his head.  Alejandro bags and drags Hassan to his feet, Ghost slyly puts Hassan’s phone back in the man's pocket when he walks past. You notice this as you have done it many times, but you were taking the phones and not giving them back. You hear the familiar ‘thunk’ of the laptop closing, you nod to Soap who seems pissed. Not surprised.
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ripleyswrld · 1 year
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You should right a fanfic where the reader is worried about Rhea and then at rheas next fight Rhea ends up in the hospital and the reader is by her side for the whole time and when she wakes up they realize they are in love with each other! It is kind of all over the place but I hope it makes sense
thank you for the request and sorry I’m taking so long to write!! Have a lot of stuff that’s keeping me busy, I hope you don’t mind I made up my own little pieces of information to add to this fic!!🤍
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gif not mine!!
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You were backstage with Rhea, adding the final pieces of her makeup to complete the look. You were her makeup artist and you had been since she first joined nxt. You had stuck by her side through everything that has happened in her career like when she lost to Charlotte at her first wrestlemania, winning the raw women’s championship and of course joining the judgment day. You knew her well, her work was important to her and you respected that. But the way things have been recently worried you.
“Rhea, can I tell you something?” You said, putting the makeup products back in the bag and sitting it on the vanity.
“Yeah sure, what’s bothering you?” She looked at you, waiting for an answer.
“I’m worried about you.” Your eyes softened as you spoke. You cared for Rhea, more than you think she realised.
“Why?” She questions. “I’m okay, what makes you say that?”
“It’s just that, you’ve been more risky with things lately. I watch you wrestle and constantly feel like something’s gonna go wrong.” You always felt a certain way for Rhea and something itched at you telling you she felt a similar way, you could never quite put a finger on it though.
“Hey don’t think that way, Okay? Everything’s fine.” She said, very sure of her words. “I’m just trying to put more work in, it’s important to me.”
“I know.” You sighed, you knew something was wrong. “Just please, be careful tonight.”
“Anything for you love.” she said, walking out of the room to prepare for her up-coming match.
You watched Rhea wrestle, same as always. She was always incredibly reckless but tonight she seemed to be toning it down a notch. She listened when you told her to be more cautious but there were still times were she wasn’t so careful. That’s why she ended up getting injured the way she did. She went to spear her opponent into the ring post, when her opponent moved out of the way and her head collided with the post. You internally panicked, praying that she was okay and nothing was seriously wrong. She continued the match, pushing through to get it done.
When the match was over and she came backstage she found you first, not going to medical.
“Rhea oh my god are you okay?!” You asked, pulling her into a hug trying to calm yourself down. “And why aren’t you at medical?”
“I’m going to go to medical I just wanted to find you first, I’m scared.” She told you, holding you tight as if you were going to leave. “It hurts.”
“Hey, it’s alright.” You did your best to console her, it was unlike her to be this way. You knew something was seriously wrong. “ let’s get you to medical okay.” You wrapped your arm around her waist and walked with her.
The rest of the night was a blur to her, while you were walking her to medical she went completely unconscious. She was taken to the hospital as medical alone didn’t have what was needed for her. You sat beside the bed they had put her in, you sat there for hours waiting for her to wake up and you were so relieved when she did.
“Y/n?” She said, her voice horse and almost painful. “What happened?”
“Oh thank god, you’re awake.” You placed a hand in her cheek, rubbing it with your thumb. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
She leaned into your hand, the small gesture bringing her comfort. “Please, don’t leave.” Her eyes looked up at you. “Stay, all I want right now is you.”
You smiled, you knew right then and there that the girl in front of you was someone incredibly special. The way she lit up your world and made you feel so important, she made you feel loved and cared for. Not many people did that for you.
“I know what you’re thinking about.” She said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I feel the same you do, I have for a long time.”
The heat on your cheeks couldn’t go unnoticed, you finally knew how you felt for Rhea.
“I love you Rhea, I have since our first ever conversation. I just couldn’t figure it out until this moment, I need you.” You told her.
“And I love you.”
You leaned down to give her lips a small kiss, the gesture making both of you smile. “I’ll stay for as long as you need me Rhea.”
My requests are still open so feel free to send them my way!! ❤️‍🩹
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khywae · 12 days
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No more fanfiction
Hey loves,
I just wanted to chat with you about a new direction I'm taking in my career.
My recent trip made me rethink a lot of things. It made me realize how short life is and how much time I've “lost” due to mental health struggles. My mind was my number #1 enemy, but not anymore. Now I'm determined to pursue my dreams unapologetically.
My biggest dream is to create a lasting legacy. I want to leave behind tons of content with the female gaze, portraying men as objects of desire rather than just women. It might seem like a silly dream compared to other, more grandiose ones, but I never had access to a lot of content like that. I always felt starved, scavenging the internet for scraps, especially when it came to submissive men. While I've found solace in the writing world, which flourishes with the female gaze, it’s still not enough. Men are just too gorgeous not to be appreciated in other forms of art. I want to live in a world where women have access to quality female gaze content and don’t have to resort to the male gaze if they don’t wish to. That means no faceless dudes, no showing only the woman’s body, and no men so ugly that could make a freight train take a dirt road. Enough.
To turn this dream into reality, I started to think. I could continue with writing, but as you guys can see from the number of words in The Muse and the time it took me to write it (6 fucking years), it would take too long. As the old saying goes, ars longa, vita brevis. Art takes a long time, and life is short. And I, my darlings, have a mission.
Because I love writing too much, I need something that limits the amount I can write. I thought about making videos, but it took out a large portion of the writing part, and it left me unsatisfied. After a lot of thought, I realized that video games can be the solution. They have visual elements, so I don’t need/can’t rely so heavily on my writing; I love games, I play them every day; and I can count on my fingers the number of adult games for women, meaning we need more. A lot more.
Like our himbo icon Kronk says, oh yeah, it’s all coming together.
So I'm excited to announce that I'll be creating games – fangames at first – that mix the interactive side of games and the smut from fanfiction. The SFW version of the games will be free, and the NSFW version and other perks can be accessed through my (freshly launched!) Patreon. There you'll have the power to vote for the next character featured in the games, access work-in-progress pictures and animations, see my writing process, and more. I’m still figuring things out, but I’m super hyped for this!
Currently, I’m working on the very first game of this legacy, called My Assassin Bodyguard. Yes, I transformed the Toji video/fanfic idea that I posted before into a game. You can play the demo now on itch.io!! You don't even have to download woooo!! The game may seem really basic as I get a hang of things and learn new software, but with time we’ll make improvements, such as adding different player characters, a smut gallery, and voice acting (!!!). Anything to make the experience the best it can be.
For those of you who are mostly here for my writing, don’t despair. My writing will still be alive, just in a different medium that needs me right now. I hope you understand. Thank you for your support all these years, for being here through it all. I'd be thrilled for you to join me on this new journey and help me bring this dream to life, together.
So here's the link to Patreon! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) I hope to see you there! But if you can’t, I’ll still post updates here and you can always play the games on itch for free. After this dream is accomplished, my next mission will be to write books. Maybe I’ll do it along the way. We’ll see. Life’s full of surprises after all, and that’s the beauty of it. Let's enjoy it the best we can ♡
With love,
Khywae
TL;DR: Life's too short, I write too much and too slow, and I've got a ton of content to create to make my dream happen. So I'm switching to game development for now. I'd love for you to join me on this journey to make this dream a reality. Thank you for everything, love you.
P.S.:
About the Lore
I was so excited about this that I created a little world. Based on the two iconic fanfiction terms —ship and canon—, and my love for Pirate AUs, I came up with a world where we sail across the ocean, collecting ingredients to craft Tapes that connect us with different Alternate Universes. It’s basically a Witch-Pirates-‘90s nostalgia mix. I've got plans to flesh it out even more over time, like adding some decorations, some hot pirates... Important stuff, you know?
Here's the boat in its simplest form, to symbolize that our journey is just starting:
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athingofvikings · 10 months
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Intro Post: Who I Am And What I Write
So this is overdue, but I figure that I should finally get around to it; I have an older, half-finished version... somewhere in my drafts on here, and well... I stopped looking for it and started over, just to give you an idea of how deep in there it's gotten.
So!
Hi, I'm athingofvikings, aka Joe, aka The Evil Authorlord as dubbed by my readers. I've been in fandom for close to 20 years, and for the last seven or so, I've been primarily in the How To Train Your Dragon fandom. I was a substitute teacher in the US, and have since emigrated to Germany, as my spouse is a German national. These days, I'm studying German, trying to decide if I want to try to teach again in the German school system, and trying to get my own writing career off the ground.
As for fandom, my then-fiancee, now-spouse introduced me to the first HTTYD movie during the Parental Introduction Visit in 2016; my first comment after finishing the movie was, "Cute, but not historically accurate."
A month later, I was preparing for NaNoWriMo 2016 when the plot bunny bit down.
"But what if it was historically accurate?"
So that's the core plot concept for my eponymous fanfic, A Thing Of Vikings. I take the first HTTYD film, anachronisms and all, and drop it as a Real Life Event in our history, and proceed to write it as an Alternate History, with the movie being the point where the timelines diverge.
And boy do they diverge, because, in a time when the most advanced military tech on the planet is Greek Fire, a small Norse tribe up in the British Isles suddenly has a fire-breathing air-force.
I do my best to keep to historical accuracy, even as I also borrow judiciously from other fictional media to patch holes in the historical record and add to the narrative as I need them, and since I'm a Leftist and my primary fictional source material is a movie made for children, there's a distinct progressive bent to the story itself, and I make no apologies for that. And since I'm Jewish, I also have a Jewish subplot that has made many people very happy, and made a number of bigots absolutely furious to almost ludicrous extents, which I consider to be a positive on both ends. (There was a period where some reactionaries with a fondness for Alt-History were recommending my story to others of their ilk just to troll them, which, well...)
And, of course...
I explore what would happen if humans suddenly have access to the capabilities of dragons in the context of the medieval era--what flight, the ability to breath fire, shedding fireproof scales, and more--will do to human society... especially as one of the main characters is a certified technical and engineering genius. To say that I have fun with the Mundane Utility aspects is an understatement.
I hope that you're intrigued, and if you are, you can find the fic on AO3 here (currently on lockdown to registered users only; I don't fancy my work being scraped for AI training sets).
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azrielgreen · 10 months
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Do you ever worry that writing dead dove fic could negatively impact your writing career in the future? I'm kind of struggling with this, I've seen so many authors careers ruined by doing much less "problematic" things than writing non-con in a fic. I'd be devastated if by some miracle I managed to write a book that actually got popular just to be canceled by someone digging up my fanfic. From what I've seen the book community is even more harsh than fandom, there's no nuance or room for discussion whatsoever, when the hammer falls that's it and no one wants to be seen as being on the wrong side so they won't read your book. I don't want to limit myself creatively or have to be secretive and paranoid, I'm here to make friends, but I also don't want to shoot myself in the foot. I'm just curious if you've thought about how you'd handle a situation like that.
This is a really sad way of looking at things and I'm really sorry that the absolute state of fandom has people feeling so down and so heavily policed.
I don't ever worry about this.
One of the first messages I ever got about 'You're Divine' was someone telling me that it meant so much to them that I was open about who I am and upfront about writing fic because it made them believe one day a fanfic writer might break into the publishing industry.
There are THOUSANDS of professional writers who also write fanfic, many who are very open about it. I will be one of them.
This Dead Dove "Panic" isn't new, it comes and goes. This discourse is old as shit and just about as interesting to anyone except the people who are eagerly learning puritanical ways to bully and harass.
I always write for myself. I write what I want, how i want and I will share that with the people who want to read for it for as long as I can. I will content warn and create as many safe barriers for readers as I can. I will always write with empathy and nuance and authentic curiosity and i will always stay open to the changes i can make to be more open minded, more inclusive, to broaden my horizons and explore with an open heart.
I will not censor myself.
I will not stand on a pedestal and loudly decry others to detract attention from myself and my own works.
I will not stand for bullying and I will NOT quieten my literary voice because there are those who think that depicting rape is endorsing rape. I won't bow to those who seek to remove the context every single time and I will never bow to purity culture.
If I sell 10 books in my life, I'll know that's 10 people who really wanted to read my work and they did. That's amazing to me.
I have nothing but respect for those who choose to shield their identity, who write with pseuds, who protect themselves.
But if I can make one fucking person feel better about themselves and their interests, about writing darker material... if i can make ONE person feel unashamed and confident enough to write what they want to, then that'll be worth everything.
I'm always going to write what I want and publishing will be the same. I have no intention of watering myself down for mainstream approval.
The literary world cannot be made up of only ONE type of story. It cannot be censored. It must not be purified and sanctified. Some stories are ugly. Shocking. Horrifying. Brutal. Provocative. The expanse of human emotion of vast and complex. As humans, we sometimes have a need to experience complex, ugly emotions within a framed narrative of safety. We read and we write for so much MORE than moral virtue signalling. It's tiring to see some of the most important stories being blanket labelled as "problematic" just for existing. To see people ignore warnings and context and thoughtlessly embodying the modern puritan.
I'll never stop being who I am and writing for myself. Everything else is secondary. Once you start writing for other people, bowing to purity culture, diluting yourself... it's already over.
Fuck that.
Love, Az.
💜💜💜
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stolaz-the-artist · 4 months
Text
Switched Career AU
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I’m aware the name sounds like a sims expansion pack I’ll fix it later
AU info below!
So i got this idea when i was thinking about how younger me misunderstood Alice in the first episode.
I thought that when she said “country boy” she meant he was a cowboy. And i thought this for like a whole year.
And then i thought “What if he was a cowboy?” But thats too easy and boring + They already kinda did that in s4. Not really but close enough (i have enough memes of Cowboy Clay locked an loaded anyway so i think I’ll survive) So i continued thinking and remembered from the Knights code how Clay said a certain sword was easy enough a child could make it. And i just started assuming he must have some knowledge in weapon making. Cuz why not? and also! I didnt neglect the other knights for this project! THATS A FIRST!
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I gave them minor redesigns, nothing too mayor but still something. (also all of this is pre-knights academy. So they’re like 15 or sum)
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Yet again, just playing with the idea that he works as a blacksmith, providing for him an his brother.
I somehow thought out more for Aaron than Clay??? Big things are happening in Detroit ngl
I have a skit planned with Ruina involved, but more on that later
And for Merlok: guess he just never found him. Or he died. Idk I’ll figure something out later.
Oh and since Merlok couldn’t find him he just kinda grew into his powers, and so did Fletch. They dont know much tho about it and just use it as some sort of minor day to day tool. But they haven’t trained it so its just still kinda uncontrollable at times, remaining heavily linked to emotions. (All of this still in very early development dont come for me)
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I have no clue what Aaron’s dad works as but i just made him a fisherman.
Aaron still craves danger, but the danger of fishing (cuz that shit can be real fucking dangerous let me tell ya that-)
He’s still too younge tho, but he can’t stop talking about it, and how much he wish he could join his dad on his boat (He has snuck on on several occasions but turns out hiding under deck during a storm isn’t a good idea. The only reason he stopped was cuz he’d miss out on the fun part regardless) Him and Clay are friends, meeting every now and again when Clay and Fletch come and buy fish from his family.
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He’s been very excited about taking over the restaurant, already having a plethora of dishes he wants to make (and eat ofc).
He’s friends with Aaron, given they also buy fish from his family. He’s not very familiar with Clay tho. They’ve been at the fish market at the same time once or twice but barely talked. But they still see each other as friends, just not very close
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Macy is still, Macy ig? I’m not sure what to do with her. So i just made King Halbert more chill. She takes several combat classes and planning on becoming a fighting queen if anything.
Her and her family are going on a trip through out the kingdom with the Richmonds. On her end its more of a meet and greet thing, but it’s different for Lance.
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OG Lance must be quite jealous. He was sent into the acting industry at a very young age. He thrives in it, taking role after role back to back.
However this next one requieres some sort of reference with the commoners. He joins Macy’s family (Bringing his agent and Dennis with him obv.) as they travel through the country sides of the kingdom. He honestly can’t wait to go home and take a dip in the gold pool.
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Idk why this thing kinda makes me sad but oh well, it’s the truth after all.
I am planning on writing this. Like fanfic wise.
But whenever that’ll be out is a mystery.
I haven’t written a fanfic since my wattpad days and AO3 still lowkey scares me.
Also other than Fletch so am i not sure what to do with Ava, Robin or Izzy. So if ya have any ideas, please share, i have no clue.
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