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#sure that will be completely fine and normal too
prongsiepotter · 1 day
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
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strangersmunsons · 2 days
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read 'em and weep #5
you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.
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Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!
Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???
Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.
“Mornin’, Ed.”
“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.
“Sleep okay?”
“Like a rock.”
Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”
Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”
His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.
“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”
Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.
They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.
Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips. 
“Everything okay?”
“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”
Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”
Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.
He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.
“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”
Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”
“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”
Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”
Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.
“So what’s the problem?”
Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”
Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”
Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.
He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.
Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.
Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”
Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly. 
“But you don’t believe her?”
Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”
Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”
Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.
“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.
Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.
“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”
Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”
Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.
After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.
Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?
Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.
“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.
For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.
But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary. 
Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.
The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.
Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you. 
He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.
Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?
Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty. 
And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.
“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?” 
Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”
Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”
Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”
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Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.
“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”
“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —
“You? Impatient? Naw.”
“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.
Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”
Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”
Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”
Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”
There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”
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When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.
Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.
Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.
“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.
You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.
Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.
“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element. 
“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”
You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.
Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”
“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”
You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”
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In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.
He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.
You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.
“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?” 
You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.
“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.
Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”
Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.
He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?”
Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.
Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.
You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”
Eddie’s insides turn to ice.
“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”
Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.
“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”
A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”
Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.
You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”
Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.
“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”
That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”
You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”
Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”
“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”
“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”
“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”
He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”
You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”
Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”
“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”
Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”
Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”
A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that? 
Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?
The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”
“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”
You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.
He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers. 
Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”
His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”
There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”
A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?
Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”
At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.
Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”
He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”
You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”
He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.
You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”
“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”
You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”
He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”
“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”
You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”
You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”
“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”
Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”
Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.
Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”
“Shoot,” he echoes.
“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him. 
Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”
Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”
Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”
Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”
You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”
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thank you for reading!! <3
taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner
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glorious-spoon · 2 days
Text
your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]
1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there
-
In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.
It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.
They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.
The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.
It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.
It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.
He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.
He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.
"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."
"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—
Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.
"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.
Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."
"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."
He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."
The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.
"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"
Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."
"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."
"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.
It was a date, we were on a date.
So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.
It feels like something he should have known.
"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."
I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.
"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."
Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.
On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.
The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.
"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."
"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."
Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."
That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 
I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.
I think you're moving too fast.
He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.
"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."
"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.
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syeren · 2 days
Text
WARZONE.
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Megumi couldn’t help it— Help his slight and ever-so-growing obsession over you, that is.
Ever since you, a new student, transferred to the Tokyo Metropolitan location of Jujutsu High he couldn’t help but be curious. Sure, it’s always the talk of the school if a new face shows up out of the blue… But you? It felt weird to him. He plastered on his signature stoic expression as he waltzed down the halls from his dorm, letting a faint yawn escape him as he neared Yuji’s door.
“Coming in, you better be wearing clothes or else,” he forewarned the boy, opening the door lazily and slowly removing his shoes. As he placed it neatly to the side of the door, an unfamiliar voice caught his attention.
“You don’t wear clothes? So you just walk around butt-naked and everything?”
The sound of Yuji’s whining instantly pierced his ears right after. “No! Megumi only enters my room after my shower, so technically… Not my fault!”
The boy in question rolled his eyes and walked around the corner of the entrance, seeing you and Yuji situated at his PC.
Megumi let out a soft sigh of relief and muttered out, “Just so you know, normal people wear clothes after they take a shower.”
“W-Why are you still acting like I’m completely naked?” Yuji groaned out, slumping in his gamer chair with a loud huff. “I had socks on.”
Megumi could see your expression in the corner of his eyes, a look of disbelief and pure confusion.
“… Socks?” You reiterated, blinking blankly at the boy in front of you.
“Yeah. Socks,” Yuji replied, perhaps a little too proud of his statement. A soft slap sound from Megumi’s palm met his forehead as he shook his head.
“But you didn’t think underwear would be the priority?” he deadpanned.
“My feet get cold,” Yuji replied and casually grabbed a nearby chip packet from his drawer of endless snacks. “Anyway, whatcha doin’ here Megumi?”
This time, Megumi looked around in thought, pondering about why the heck he was even there in the first place.
“I need some paper,” he boredly responded, making a beeline to the opposite side of the room in a hurry. Hell, he had no idea if his only chance to not look like a fool in front of you was actually going to be there, but with little hope, he continued to stride over to Yuji’s messy bookshelf.
He scanned from top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side, his eyes were getting overstimulated with how much Yuji had stuffed all kinds of trinkets on the ledge of the shelves.
“Lined? Blank? Ooh, or these fancy eco-friendly ones I made?” Yuji called out to Megumi, shuffling out three small stacks of different types of paper. Megumi let out a shaky breath, of course they would be at his desk. The very area he wanted to avoid. He turned around and reluctantly hobbled back.
“Lined.”
Taking one sheet from the stack, he swivelled his stature away again to the entrance, obviously leaving you and Yuji bewildered.
“Just one sheet of paper?” You asked Megumi, who was struggling to step into his boots.
“Yeah,” he muttered, grunting as he finally slipped his foot in after struggling for what felt like a century. He could already feel a thin layer of cold sweat form along his nape as you spoke.
Yuji turned to you and shrugged his shoulders, before patting you roughly on the arm. “Can you force him to stay? I need another person on my team for Warzone.”
“Why don’t you ask him? He’s still here—“
The sound of the door shutting at the front was enough for you to shut up instantly.
“— Nevermind.”
At your words, the pink-haired boy stretched his arms up and stood on his feet, rolling his shoulders as if he was preparing to lunge into battle. The mischievous glint in his eyes gave you the impression that he was, in fact, going to fight off his dear friend for him to play a game… Or prepare himself to be beat up, and then plead his surrender. As much as you wanted to watch the gruesome battle between two teenaged boys have a bickering show-down, you interrupted Yuji and pushed him back into his chair.
“Fine, let me talk to him,” you sighed, before heading your way to the entrance. Yuji on the other hand squealed in delight, following right behind you before grabbing hold of your wrist to high-five his hand with yours.
“Great because I was really not looking forward to another argument— I mean, I would win of course… But I would feel bad for Megumi if he lost! Soooooo… I’ll let you talk to him,” Yuji exclaimed, boastfully leaning against the doorframe with his chin held high. You stood outside his dorm room and shut the door in his face, before walking to Megumi’s room right beside his.
You knocked once. Twice. Possibly three times, you’ve lost count, until it finally opened. Megumi opened the door with a grumble, not bothering to look up as he barked, “I don’t need anymore paper—“
“Not about paper,” you added, peeking your head around the slight crack he managed to pry open. “Come play Warzone.”
Megumi eyed you blankly and you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out. Was there a strand of hair sticking up? Something wrong with your face? No, it was him trying to calm his nerves and train his brain to go back into his zen state of mind for a moment— Just for a second! So he can actually talk to you properly without worrying about stammering his words. Thankfully, it’s something he’s good at.
“Warzone?” he questioned before sighing, “Did Yuji ask you to do this?”
“Yes and no,” you glanced back at Yuji’s closed door, before turning your attention to Megumi again. “I guess he was pre-planning to ask you and it seemed like he was really getting into it, so I just offered.”
Megumi stiffened. If there was one other thing Yuji was good at, it was be subconsciously picking up on emotions at the right times (only the right times, he’s not giving him that much credit), and perhaps he had caught on to Megumi’s white lie he suddenly used. It was a stupid cover-up, he had tons of paper in his room already.
“Ahh, I see,” he mumbled before quietly stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him. You smiled at his acceptance to your invitation and walked back to Yuji’s room with Megumi trailing behind.
“… You’re new, right?” he asked, stuffing one hand in his pocket and using the free one to reach out to open the door for you.
You quickly thanked him, entering Yuji’s bedroom and hearing his screams. He must be in a practice game by now waiting for the both of you. The muffled sounds of gunshots and comms gave you enough context.
“Didn’t think you’d notice,” you said playfully with a laugh, making your way inside and opting to sit on Yuji’s bed. Megumi trailed in and flopped onto the free chair next to Yuji, and continued to talk to you. “You seemed the type to be in his own world”
“Well, I am… But, I did,” he responded to you quietly with his eyes locked onto the screen. A faint ‘nice kill’ emerged from his lips as he watched Yuji’s fingers fly across the desk with his mouse, headshotting an opponent. His eyes flicked back to you in intervals and tapped the tips of his fingers on top of the desk. He cleared a lump in his throat before breaking the awkward silence between you two.
“So, why did you transfer here?— To this school I mean. Not in a rude way,” he stammered, briefly looking at your face and turned back to look at Yuji’s screen. He wanted so badly to crush his forehead into the wall.
“Came here from the Kyoto region, I think Gojo wanted me to be here,” you mumbled, watching Yuji completely get demolished in the game.
“If Gojo sees potential in you, you must seem like a well-adaptable individual,” he added, eyes still glued to the screen. “That being said— he also has the urge to take someone under his wing if you’re substantially adorable to him and are in need of his ‘educational expertise’… As so he would call it.”
You let out chuckle, letting your gaze wander to the two bodies haunched over the screen; Yuji, childishly hogging the keyboard even though he wanted Megumi to play with him, and Megumi, not caring in the slightest. As you looked at him, the subtle glance of your eye caught you off guard— He was already looking at you.
“What?” you mouthed at him, narrowing your gaze until he shakes his head. A hand comes up to gently rub his cheeks, covering the slight smile you didn’t see. The faintest hue of pink dusted his cheeks, reaching down to the column of his neck.
“Nothing.”
____________
AN; SYEREN here! been a while, how’ve you been? :3
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the-massive-simp · 2 days
Note
I've been thinking about fem/gn reader losing their virginity to kaeya, venti and kaveh... But maybe they accidentally get hurt and have to stop? I wanna know how they'd act when something like that happens (:
a/n: I love this kind of prompt <3 here you go anon! I'm slowly trying to fight writer's block so its only headcanons and not drabbles but I tried my best. sadly there's no venti because i dont really feel comfortable writing suggestive or nsfw things with him (i know i got your request before changing my rules so you did nothing wrong. sorry for the inconvenience). and remember everyone: a yes can turn into a no at any moment, and that's completely fine. consent is key. also I think that my love for kaveh shows in this one because his part is twice kaeya's one
warnings: it's not graphic smut but sex is mentioned so don't read if you're uncomfortable with that. no mentions of protections (make sure use them irl)
♡Kaeya♡
I imagine Kaeya being a super sex positive person, like for him sex is not a big deal as long as there's respect for the other person
so he was probably ready to have sex with you since you started dating 💀
but of course he didn't push you, he waited for you to be ready to have your first time with him
one time you have dinner at his place and an heated make up sessions evolves in discarding eachother clothes
he asks for your consent like 100 times while you two move to the bedroom
he knows how important foreplay is, so he makes sure to prepare you for the main act
then he slowly pushes himself in, an heavy breath leaving his lips as he hides his face in your neck, his arms supporting him so he doesn’t put all of his weight on you
you immediately feel uncomfortable
the stretch feels too much and its almost painful
at first you think it's normal but it doesn't go away even after he begins to gently trust in you
if anything, it gets worse, but he fails to notice tour discomfort
tears start to spill from your eyes as you put your hands on kaeya chest and tell him to stop
he immediately freezes, concern and guilt flooding his face
"Can I pull out?"
you nod and he backs away from your body, opting to sit back to give you some space
"Did it hurt? Did I do something wrong? Should I go get anything?"
he listens to you as you try to explain him how you felt
he goes getting a warm cloth to gently clean you up before embracing you in his arms
he feels really bad for not having noticed your discomfort sooner
you tell him that's its fine, you thought you were ready but maybe you were too nervous
you two keep talking about it for a while until you fall asleep
after that for a while he's a bit reluctant to try again because he doesn't want to hurt you
but when you tell him that you really want to take this step with him, he finally agrees
expect 3 hours of foreplay
♡Kaveh♡
now now
sweet kaveh loves to spoil you, taking you out to have dinner and go shopping
however his wallet does not enjoy it as much as he does
so you often have dates where you just go for a walk together or have a picnic
it's during one of those dates that he casually mentions the subject of sex
now, he doesn’t want to force you but he loves you so much and the idea of you two doing that together looks amazing to him
the conversation its not meant to push you, but rather to offer you an occasion to talk about it together and see if you feel the same about him
when you tell him you're ready (be it that same date or after years) he gets so excited
he can't believe you're going to share the magic moment of your first time with him of all people
he probably asks you if you two can go at your place since he doesn't want alhaitham around
once you two get down to business, he's the sweetest guy ever
he kisses every single inch of your body, basically worshipping you
makes sure to keep eye contact with you most of the time so he can notice if anything is wrong
after the foreplay, he lets you get on top of him, straddling his lap while his back is propped up by some pillows
he wants you to be the one in charge so you can choose the pace of events
the moment you lower yourself on him, he knows something is wrong
yes, he does feel a lot of pleasure from finally being inside of you, but he doesn't miss the face you make
when after a few seconds he sees tears pooling in your eyes he has the confirmation of his suspects
he immediately grabs your hips and pulls you up, making you sit on his thighs before comfortly rubbing your arms and shoulders
"What's wrong baby?"
he's so gentle with you, holding you close while you sniffle in his neck, hands resting on his chest
he strokes your hair and reassures you that you don't have to do anything if you're not ready, that he'd wait a thousand years for you, that he loves you as much as before, that sex is not the important thing in your relationship
he waits for you to calm down before asking you what exactly you think went wrong
if you tell him you want to try again he's completely fine with it, but he becomes even more attentive and gentle, making sure that this time you'll be able to enjoy it
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bluecollarmcandtf · 13 hours
Text
Typical Day for a Mall Cop
My name's Bill, and I've been a guard at the mall for almost a decade now. It wasn't my dream job, but life has a way of creeping up on you with kids and a mortgage. I needed something to pay the bills, and I've always had a knack for watching over people.
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Like any other weekend, the mall is fairly busy, so I stay on my feet and patrol the halls for most of the day. Occasionally, I'll check in with the other mall cop, but my time is mostly filled with watching shoppers come and go. If anybody gets too rowdy, a stern look is enough to keep them in line.
A lot of the time, teenagers will loiter in stores. Some of them even try and bring their skateboards in, but it isn't too hard to make them adhere to the mall's strict policies. They might be young and clueless, but that doesn't mean I'll cut them any breaks.
Over by the fountain, I see one of the boys I admonished a week ago. I think I caught him shoplifting or something. Thieves normally get banned from the mall, but I didn't do that with this one. He said something that completely caught me off guard; he said he could hypnotize me.
I laughed in his face.
Amused inwardly by the boy's foolish claim, I walk over to check in with him. I'm sure he'll remember the security guard that almost kicked him out of the mall last weekend.
The kid is chatting with his friends, but they fall quiet when they notice me looming behind them. Like we'd discussed last week, I drop to my knees and kneel in front of the troublemaker. He explained that this is the best thing for me to do when I see him around, and I can't help but agree. I know the boy deserves my respect.
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I plant a kiss on both of his sneakers, and then wait for him to speak first. It takes a minute because he and his friends are busy cracking up over some unspoken joke. Whatever it is, clearly went right over my head.
"How you doin', mall pig?" the boy laughs.
I smirk at the nickname he's given me. We've gotten in the habit of calling each other by these pseudonyms, and I don't mind it.
"Very good, sir," I answer, using the name I've come to associate him with, "How are you?"
"Fine, I guess," he shrugs, "I spent your cash on kicks for my crew."
That reminds me of last week again. The boy had made it seem like a good idea to give him all the money I had, which included the paycheck I'd earned for last pay period. On the ground, I had a close view of all the vibrant sneakers the teenagers were wearing. It was nice to know he'd put my gift to good use, even if my wife had been pissed that I'd come home without my month's salary.
"You have another check for me, fat ass?"
His friends laugh at his new nickname for me, but I shake my head and answer a solemn, "No, sir."
The teenager groans and carries leads his gang of friends away, already bored with me. It seems like he's just going to leave me there, kneeling in the middle of the mall, until he turns and beckons me to follow. Inwardly, I'm glad that he's not done with me yet. I've come to enjoy our interactions a lot.
I follow the boys, crawling behind them all the way into a bathroom.
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"If you ain't got any cash to keep me and my crew entertained, then you're gonna have to do something to make us laugh," he explains.
"Of course, sir!" I smile, trying to express how willing I am to impress him and his friends.
"We'd find it hilarious if you dunked your head in each toilet," he adds blandly.
I light up. He's just explained how I can be of service and now all I have to do is follow through. I'm sure it'd be hilarious for them to watch a fully grown security guard giving himself a few swirlies. That's peak comedy!
"Watch this, sir!" I laugh, crawling over to the first toilet and shoving my face into the water without any hesitation.
I know the guy that's supposed to clean these bathrooms, and it's obvious he slacks off because there are skid marks all over. I try not to think about it as my cheeks and forehead brush against the bottom of the bowl. When I pull my face out of the flushing toilet, my ears pop and hear a roar of laughter behind me. The kids find it hilarious, which only fuels my desire to keep going.
With a gaping grin, I shuffle over to the next stall and repeat. There are six toilets in the men's restroom. Some are cleaner than others. The last one is a clogged mess, and the boys find it hilarious when I come up with toilet paper plastered to my face. I laugh through it all, even if the urge to puke is growing.
By the time I'm done, I'm soaked in toilet water, and the teenagers are in tears.
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"Alright, toilet guy. That was disgusting," the leader of the pack chuckles, grimacing in my direction, "You have a car or something?"
"Yes, sir. I've got a minivan in the parking lot."
"A minivan?" he seems disappointed, "Hand over the keys anyway. We wanna drive around."
"You got it, sir," I say, fishing the fob out of my damp pockets.
He swipes the keys out of my hand eagerly and turns to leave the bathroom. I start to follow the boys out, but he stops me.
"Why don't you stay in here 'till you dry off," he snorts, "You can spend that time in the corner, thinking about what you can do for me next time I'm at the mall."
"Yes, sir," answer, and the boys leave.
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Briefly, the thought of getting back to work crosses my mind. I really should be out there keeping an eye on the vendors and their merchandise, but that goes away. Like suggested, I stare at the dirty tile wall and begin to brainstorm what I can do for the boy the next time I see him.
My walkie goes off now and then with the voice of my coworker wondering where I am, but I ignore it.
After an hour or so, I've dripped mostly dry, but a strong stink still lingers around my head. Still, I've come up with a few different things I could have ready next week. It'll take some overtime to make extra cash for the boy. My wife won't be happy about that, but it'll give me a chance to actually have cash ready for him when he asks for it.
The only other thing I have to offer is the perks of my job. Maybe his friends and him would like a tour of the security office? I'd give them free reign of everything in the confiscated bin.
Speaking of my job, I should probably get back. My partner is probably angry at me for not answering the radio. He'll be happy when I tell him I'll take the late shift for the next few days. Hopefully he won't say anything about the smell. God, it's awful!
Just another day working as a mall cop!
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ghostwritermia · 2 days
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Jegulus x reader request?
Where the reader is also a quidditch player and basically she is in hufflepuff/ravenclaw and their team wins, but one of the boys get mad preferably regulus and reader gets upset james comforts her. Basically angst to fluff
P.s u don't have to do it, I hv been writing a poly moonwater for a week and haven't completed yet. Ik writing is hectic
Lots of Love, babe
Hi Hi! Sorry this took so long. I was in a writing slump...
Anyhoo. Here it is, I hope you enjoy!
totally didn't feed my overdramatic personality into this...
No warnings I can think of? Overthinking? Getting lost in your thoughts? Tears?
Poly!Jegulus x ravenclaw!reader
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You were absolutely elated when you found out you had been assigned the captain position.
Sure, you were on a team that normally didn't win, but you were fine with that. You enjoyed the sport, the crowd, the family your team became, the community and environment.
It was the last game of the season and your team had finally won against Slytherin. Earlier in the season you had led your team to victory against Gryffindor. So, with one boyfriend left to beat, you had finally done it today, but apparently it had come with a price to pay.
As you were being crowded and tackled by your team you peeked over your best friend's shoulder, seeing Regulus storming off. And with that, your mood instantly dropped. 
You slipped an easy smile back onto your face as you hugged the rest of your team before slipping off into the changing tent and then back to your common room. 
You understand that Reg wanted to win his last game of the season, you did. But, it was your last game too, and only the second game you had been able to win that season. Shouldn't he be proud of you too?
When you finally made it back to your dorm, you quickly slipped into one of James's shirts (which were huge on you), and a pair of sleep shorts, before curling on in an armchair, pulling your knees to your chest and a blue fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
You didn't know how long you sat there. You also didn't know when James had slipped into the room, not even realizing he was there until he gently wiped tears away from under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.
You startled, eyes lifting to meet his, to see sorrow swimming in his gaze. “You just gotta give him time, darling. You know how he gets about these things, he’ll come around.” James swiftly picks you up and takes your place in the armchair before resting you back into his lap.
You sighed, curling into his side, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. “I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” You sniffle into his shirt, and he tugs you tighter against him.
“He will come around darling, I promise.” He says, leaving a gentle kiss to the top of your hair.
You lose track of time as you get comfortable, cuddling into James (stealing all of his warmth), yet he doesn’t complain. You smile into his shoulder as he starts running his fingers through your hair. You playfully bite his shoulder; he tugs on a strand of your hair in reprimand.
You had started to doze off when the door creaked open and James spotted Regulus’s head peek in. He gently tapped your shoulder and when he had gotten your attention, pointed to Regulus.
Your gaze met the stormy gray of Regulus’s before you looked away, finding a loose thread of your blanket far more interesting.
“Mon Amour, I’m so so sorry.” Regulus rushes over to you, crouching down in front of you. “My mind blanked, and I didn’t think before I walked away, and I’m so sorry.” He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before running his thumb along the back of it.
You frown, your eyebrows scrunching and slide out of James’s lap and onto the floor next to Reg. “It’s okay, my love. I understand what it’s like to have loads of pressure on your shoulders, I do too. It can overwhelm you at any moment; sometimes it can even come when we don’t want it too and take control of our actions.” You say wisely. “You had a moment, it happens to the best of us. You may be a wizard, but you are still a human. Bound to make mistakes for the rest of your life,” You remind dramatically, talking with your hands. Regulus laughs, his eyes lighting up again and grabs your hands, holding them stationary.
“I’m glad that you forgive me, mon amour, but you are over dramatic.” Your boyfriend dressed in green states.
You scoff as James slides down from the chair to sit with the two of you on the floor. “I love this make-up session you two are having, but you both are full of crap.” He tugs you both into his sides, one arm wrapped around each of you.
Regulus turns his head, biting James’s hand as you dramatically raise your hand before swatting him on the back of his head.
James quickly pulls his hand away from Regulus, retracting his hold from the two of you and holds the back of his head. “Hey!” You both turn your head and blink at him feigning innocence. “This is not attack James day.” 
He smiles, teeth flashing. You dramatically cover your eyes, faking passing out; falling back from your sitting position and onto your back. “Ah, too bright. Can’t see. James you’re blinding me, can’t you see? Because I sure can’t.”
“Regulus was right. You are so over dramatic.” James rolls his eyes before leaning towards you and pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into him.
“I. Am. Not.” You pout, crossing your arms and leaning out of James’s embrace.
Regulus leans towards you smiling and kisses your forehead. “Yes you are.” He whispers, tackling you to the ground, tickling your sides. “You are dramatic, and I love you for it.” You grin and Regulus gives you a skeptical glance as you turn and smile at James.
Before Reg could blink he was pinned down to the ground; roles reversed. James had his arms pinned to the ground as you straddled his hip, returning the attack of tickles that he had been serving you.
“You lose, Reggie.” You state in a sing-song voice, giggling.
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midnightsxblue · 10 hours
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LUCKY
carl grimes x reader
tags: angst but then fluff !
masterlist here!
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─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
When the apocalypse started you’d lost all your family and were on your own for what felt like ages but you eventually found someone who made you feel safe and her name was Natasha. She was a stranger but she used to be a mother and had lost her son at the start. She’d protected you like you were her own; like you were blood.
She was everything to you, but she left too soon. She was attacked by a walker and you did everything you could. You got bit in the process and got so choked up over the fact you knew you’d die within the next twenty four hours, you let Natasha get swarmed. You ran away as fast as you could, basically sobbing. That night after finding shelter you patiently waited for the infection to take over. You couldn’t take the easy way out, you were too scared. Nothing happened for about two days straight when you realized, you might’ve just been lucky.
Ever since Natasha, you swore to yourself you’d never let anyone you cared for die like that again and you’d make sure of it with your immunity. Granted you could still get ripped to shreds but you knew you’d never let it get that far. Not after seeing what happened to Natasha.
After that, you traveled long and far, eventually finding yourself at a large gated community with a sign at the front that read “Alexandria Safe Zone.” They had let you in very kindly. You struggled to bond with anyone there, most of them had been there since the start and never had true experience in the world around you. Except Carl.
He, to you, was the most normal of all of them; your definition of normal at least. He’d seen it all, his whole group did but he was different from his group. He’d grown up in the apocalypse just like you. It wasn’t just a part of your guys’ lives. It was all you could really remember. It almost makes you feel bad for his baby sister. She’d never know what the world was really like.
So you two grew closer. You’d go out into the woods to ensure you’d never forget. You read comics, listened to music, anything that you could think of. It never occurred to you that maybe you should tell him about your immunity. You hadn’t told anyone before and you knew if you kept bonding like you were then he’d figure it out himself. You didn’t want to take the risk of him telling someone else, you don’t know what would happen to you.
You tried to ignore the topic as much as possible, you only have ever worn long sleeves and did whatever you could to ensure they would never see it. Carl had just assumed you were mostly comfortable that way so he never mentioned it.
One morning the two of you decided to go out to the forest to read. Although you’d heard talks of a horde of walkers that were supposed to travel through that day, you didn’t really listen. The communities horde tracking system wasn’t always accurate as it would usually be a couple days ahead.
You guys walked through the forest, your hands interlocked as you looked for your spot. You approached your fallen log and you settle into the ground as Carl begins to dig through a large black box filled with anything to entertain you both. “What do you wanna read?” He asks, focused on rummaging through the pile of comics. “I’m fine with whatever. Maybe Deadpool if you want.” You reply, also digging through your bag for the pretzels you had packed for you two.
He finds the comic and sits back next to you and you lean into his shoulder while you read. You loved this, reading with him. His presence helped you forget everything you wanted to. Losing your family, watching Natasha die, getting bit. Everything washes away when you’re with him. You focus on the comic for a while until you heard the irritating noise of walkers nearby. You completely forgot the warnings you’d heard this morning.
The both of you stand up and Carl tosses the comic back in the box. You look around to see that there’s a small horde. On a regular day you would go hide in the hallowed tree trunk behind your log but the walkers had already noticed you. “Shit. We’re just gonna have to take them.” You tell him. He pulls his knife from his belt and you do the same, preparing for the next step.
You handle a few, unfortunately not quite easily. Some of the skulls weren’t too soft and also you got quite a bit of blood on you. You handled about six of them, Carl handled 9. There was one final walker that you handled before you two could take a breath. You turn to Carl with a content look, almost proud of the work you accomplished. He nods and you’re interrupted by another walker which seemingly came out of fucking nowhere.
The walker pushes into Carl and your immediate instinct is to pull it off of him. You grab the walker just below its neck and before you know it, its teeth plunge right into your forearm. You didn’t know it but Carl’s heart completely shattered. His eyes went wide and he helped get it off of you. Your knife shoves into its chin and it’s finally dead.
You let it fall to the floor and for some odd reason, tears begin to flow from your eyes. It was too close of a call but you’d survived, Carl had survived. You were relieved; relieved that you’d saved someone from the fate Natasha had faced.
“Y-you’re bit.” He mutters. You look to him and wipe your tears, smiling slightly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. How could you be smiling? “Why…what’s there to smile about?” He asks, his voice still quiet. You roll your sleeve up from your other arm, showing your old bite wound. He steps closer to see it and he gently runs his fingers over it.
“I-I don’t understand how’s that…” His voice trails off and he looks back to you for any answers.
“It’s from a while ago. I’m immune. I know I should’ve told you earlier but I didn’t know how, I didn’t know what people would do to me.” He looks back down at your arm before his hands move up to your shoulders. “I would never do anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you.” You nod knowingly and look back at the floor as your tears continue to flow. “Why are you crying? You’re gonna survive.” His hand moves up to wipe your tears off.
“I guess I was just scared of losing you.” You explain. He tilts your chin up to look at you before kissing your forehead, leaning his on yours afterwards.
“You’re not gonna lose me.”
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a/n: yall it felt like going to WAR to get this shit out omg i literally couldn’t finish writing it for the life of me bc i’ve been soooo unmotivated BUT I FEEL BETTER NOWWW so i’m down to take even more requests i think i have one left in my inbox that will be worked on today and tmr and will probably be posted tmr :> THANK U ANON FOR THE REQUEST IT WAS PERFECT!!! (sorry for the ending being so shitty fhndnfnfnfn)
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ready to be completely fine and normal when the completely fine and normal updates of @buggachat 's Bakery Enemies AU and @peachcitt's Metamorphosis are posted today
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#tumblr polls#hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today#still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual#They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully#it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec#fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since#I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm#ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos#or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things#I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming#over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY#I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb#e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about#different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I#can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud..#but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone#said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects#the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm
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chaikachi · 10 months
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rosegarden is sooooooooo canon baby
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adelle-ein · 6 months
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desire to watch more slay the princess vs fear of horror games. fight
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Hey hey! I’m exhausted TwT BUT this exists, and I had 7 planned and pre-written already, just need to do edits and warnings, SO yay!!! But I also dropped off the face of the earth bc of Fatigue, so that’s great. Whoops. BUT hey I’m trying my best, and I might come in a little late but I do want to finish this and I’m gonna try even if it ends up late ^^ Why win a race when you’re enjoying the flowers on the side of the track?
Anyway. We’re focusing on Cheri for a change! This is probably a few years before Cheri meets Volo again, and a few months after getting back home from Hisui. He’s like 17-18 here, and as his body is maturing, so are his abilities. Which is VERY not fun when one of them is the ability to feel exactly what others are feeling and he doesn’t know how to turn it off. Poor guy :(
Warnings: lashing out at loved ones, emotional hurt/no comfort (despite people being there who very much want to provide comfort), caretaker makes it worse?? Sort of??? Also whumpee being scared to leave their room, not sure if that needs a warning but. Yeah I’m gonna warn on that anyway
6: Dizziness
Ana’s at the door again. “Cheri? You okay in there?”
Concern filters through the air, filling his head, and he lets out a low groan, burying his face under the blanket. “Leave me alone.”
“Please, just tell us what’s wrong.”
Another two sets of feelings joins the mix.
Worry, concern, fear, merging together, and he curls up tighter.
“We want to help,” Keyo murmurs, Sprigs meowing through the door in agreement. “Please let us help.”
So much worry is flooding him and he doesn’t know how to stop it.
The ability is both old and new. Ever since evolving, he had gotten better at reading people, better at understanding their intentions. He’d thought it was intuition at first.
But now he knows.
It was an ability, one that hadn’t yet fully matured.
He still hasn’t fully mastered it yet. Other people’s feelings crash through his body, and he wants to scream.
“You want to help? I’ll tell you what’ll help- go away!! And take Sprigs with you!”
He doesn’t want to be so harsh.
But he’s scared.
Being overwhelmed with his own emotions can mess with his head, knock him off balance, to the point where his other abilities will lash out even if he doesn’t want them to. He’s not sure if it’ll happen with other people’s feelings too.
He’s scared.
Pain, emotional pain as he dismisses the others so harshly, and he chokes back a sob.
He feels so much. He feels so much. It’s dizzying, feeling so many sets of feelings aside from his own.
“..I’m leaving food at the door,” Ana says. “Please come out and tell us what’s wrong when you can.”
And after a few moments, they leave, the intensity of the feelings leaving with them.
But he’s still crying.
Please come back. I just want things to be normal.
They can’t be normal. I can’t turn it off.
I’m so alone, so alone, it’s my own fault, I don’t want to be alone-
I can’t subject them to this. I don’t want to hurt them, I’m so terrified of hurting them.
He curls up tighter, squeezing the pillow to his chest.
I just want to be normal again. I never asked for this.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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...
#focus who? i dont kno her#its so bad. i csnt focus at all. and ive got way too much to do. take me back to last week where i spent hours reading papers#annoying. also possibly lack of sleep cstching up with me#do u ever get very little sleep and not miss it at all? yea bitch all the time. then i get depressed and its sleepy time#and by sleepy time i mean i get like 8hrs of sleep lol#maybe ill just do nothing and completely fuck over my sunday lol#maybe i should go run up thr mountain rn before im stuck in a car for 2 hrs#bc im getting spikes of being insane. unfortunately i have no emotional object permanence so when i feel crazy its like#ive always felt like this ans its terrible forever. and then immediately afterward im like lol wot? nah im fine. ive always been fine#shout out to mood swings ✌️ like bro im trying to get materials together so i can teach a class. can u shut the fuck up? and focus?#well see how i do today with a ton of socializing. itll b fine. im normal i can b normal#or i can b endearing quirky. or whatever i usually i am. i dont think i have conversations like a normal person but i cant tell bc im not#there for conversations im not in. whatever everyone else has conversations in a way thats boring. i just wanna grill ppl til i understand#how they work. and then feel like im gonna die if im in a group conversation 🙃 let me study thr ppl around me#bc im very normal. god. i promise irl im not that weird. ppl think im nice and cool and successful#ok maybe not cool. but i think i can get away with being interesting. i got at least a lil charisma. im only a bit horribly awkward ;-]#but i try to own it. wtf was i saying. jesus. i cant with my brain rn. i shoulf have gone for a run this morning#being social just makes me anxious so im babbling i guess. but itll b fun. and itll b pretty im sure#maybe ill try to draw my ocs while im not paying attention. ive neglected them for so long 😭#unrelated
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soldier-poet-king · 2 years
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. Chompin at the bit today ...
#it's like. i hate (romantic) love. i love love. i cant survive without it. ill be fine alone#i need security and happiness. ive survived this long without them and don't deserve them anyway#i sm completely unhinged in every sense if the word. i am the most normal person on the planet and everyone else is wrong#bc they cant or wont feel things like i do#im the worst person alive. my hands are bloody. there's so much guilt. im so selfish and life is one long atonement for my very existence#im actually just human and deserving of the same compassion as everyone else. maybe more bc im just so fuckin fragile#i have to deny myself every comfort and desire bc it is morally correct#i have to deny myself because it is easier to deny myself than have the world deny it to me#pretend that it is my choice. easier never to ask then to be disappointed and let down and alone#i have to deny myself bc of guilt. it is righteous justice. it is punishment. it is misguided. all three maybe#so yeah. having A Time. had a full on breakdown at church and not in a good cathartic way#reminder reminder of the shire is saved but not for me#im multitudes and incomprehensible. im simple and stupid and plain.#i have too many emotions. i dint have enough. i should feel more. i should repress more#im just. off to stupid little crafts. read trc BC im already insane so whatever#work again. rinse wash repeat#gonna drive myself to exhaustion at the gym#not out of health desire. but brain desire. i need to be awake but unthinking. exhausted and pained for a righteous cause#anyway. ooops. so much for being reticient and repressed#i mean. irl sure. and this is only a fraction of it. i promise to be less in the future. its better for everyone#and I'm so tired of weakness
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waka-chan-out · 2 years
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god this is one of the dumbest things i’ve ever read in my life
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