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#the question is. who gets to be tina
fugaciousgloom · 5 months
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Saw someone mention a purgatory wedding and. I want that so badly you have no idea.
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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more than seven minutes — one-shot
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk
author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.
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"Where are you taking me?"
"Don't you trust us?"
From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."
It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.
They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it. 
You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.
Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.
You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"
"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"
You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.
Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.
He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"
Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."
When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"
"I'm not acting weird…"
"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."
You weren't avoiding Steve.
At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.
After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.
The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.
Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.
There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space. 
"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."
Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."
With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.
"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."
"A what?"
"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"
"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.
"What was your dream like?"
He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.
It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.
"Steve…"
"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."
Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I  was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"
"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking." 
You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."
Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah." You breathed out.
One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.
"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"
It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"
"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."
Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"
Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.
"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?" 
"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"
"Shut up."
Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.
"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."
His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.
"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.
"Consider it payback, baby."
They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"
"Yeah. Please."
Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.
Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.
A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements. 
"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."
Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.
"Louder. Let me hear you."
"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."
At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.
He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.
"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.
After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.
Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.
Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.
Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.
Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.
"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"
"Go away, Buckley! Jesus." 
Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"
"Yeah. Your point being…"
"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."
Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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bruised knees
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words: 2.1k
warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy
rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.
you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.
“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.
“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.
“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.
“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.
“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.
“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.
rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.
“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.
“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.
rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.
“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.
your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.
“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.
“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.
“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.
“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.
“ooh, yes.” you nod.
“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.
“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.
“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend. 
“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.
rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.
neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.
“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.
you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.
“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.
“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.
you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.
you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.
rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.
hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.
“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.
“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.
“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.
“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”
you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.
you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry. 
“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.
“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.
“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.
“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”
“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”
the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.
“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.
“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.
“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.
“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.
rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.
“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.
“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.
“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.” 
“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.
“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”
“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”
“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”
“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”
you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.
“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.
“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.
“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.
“holy shit, you are checking me out!” 
“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”
“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.
“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”
“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”
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salted-caramel-tea · 1 year
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oky it’s fucking TIME to talk about mcc misogyny we are NOT dancing around it anymore .
the community fucking hates women . especially the subreddit but also the general community . i can’t talk about every women bc i haven’t watched the pov of every woman in mcc .
tina kitten. her entire mcc experience was being treated as a nerf tool by the community. she only played in a handful of events but her teams routinely credited as some of the lowest ranked teams in the history of mcc in pre-game prospects . they’ve had the LEAST chance at winning and the community commonly rests that blame on tina’s back . is tina a great mcc player? no, she hasn’t had much opportunity to learn from it or practise much. but the constant backlash she faces for being a “bad player” and a “nerf” is demotivating . and after treating her like shit people treat her like shit MORE to tell her she’s overreacting if she is upset or has a problem with anything .
but scar has similar stats . he’s a relatively new player who hasn’t had much chance to learn from the event yet and hasn’t placed top 20. but nobody ever complains about scar being teamed with anyone as a nerf . nobody complains scar is dragging the team down . same goes for people like quackity and karl who don’t regularly place well. nobody complains they’re nerfs or that they’re ruining the teams chances . and evryone is quick to comfort them if they feel bad for ‘letting their team down’
niki nihachu is a similar situation . she’s been playing in the event for well over a year now and is routinely shunned by members of the community for not playing good enough . you can argue ‘she ranks x out of 40 on average’ all you want but does that warrant the way people treat her in her chat and in the subreddit?? does that warrant the immense pressure she feels to improve and the fact that he feels she’s let so many ppl down if she doesn’t?? does it warrant people talking shit talking her and laughing at her for getting emotional due to stress over the event on stream? the fact that she’s so stressed over the event should tell you everything . people has treated her like shit since the beginning for being ‘too emotional’ .
jojosolos. girl. she came into the event as an extremely strong player. she’s placed top ten 6 out of 9 times she’s played (canon and non canon) . for canon events she has 5/6 top ten placements one win and a first individual placement . purpled has 6/7 top ten placements, one team win and one first individual placement . they have extremely similar track records . so why is it that the s tier committee is trying to hard to designate purpled as an s tier but are adamant that jojo doesn’t deserve the same treatment because she’s yet to prove herself as being an s tier player . they have roughly the same stats .
hannahxxrose . she’s faced criticism for her competitiveness over her entire streaming career . to the point where she recently pointed out that people have been calling into question her mental well-being because of her competitive attitude and loudness. some men in the community (specific ones that are hated before the game even starts) are given similar critiques but not once has their mental health been called into question. but the majority of competitive men in the community haven’t been called out on their ‘bad attitudes’, only the ones that specific mcyt communities don’t like to begin with . typically if a man gets loud or starts screaming during the event it’s funny to you . but for a woman she’s taking it too seriously and needs a wellness check .
both jack manifold and karacorvus have an average placement of 26 . kara has one win and jack has lost every dodgebolt he’s been part of . but kara faces harsher criticism bc she doesn’t have the same following as jack manifold so she doesn’t have ppl who will defend her as being a good addition to the team for something other than her ability . bc ppl will defend jacks bad placement because :o !!!! he’s playing with his friends!!!! despite having the same ability as the women that are routinely shit on .
my point is that you can say what you want about certain mcc players . you’re not gonna like everyone . but the double standards between male and female mcc competitors is very much real and a problem in the fanbase. more people are fans of the male streamers and i get that’s why you want them to succeed. but to overlook the flaws you degrade female plaster for in the creators you admire is to have an internal bias against them . if you’re going to have criticisms they’re gonna have ti be for EVERYONE who uses that kind of behaviour . and i think if we see that enforces you’ll realise that a lot of the critiques were bullshit to begin with .
and this can NOT be chalked up to the behaviour of the dsmp community alone . you’re all just as bad, this focuses primarily on dsmp examples bc i watxh primarily dsmp streamers. ALL of this happens on the mcc subreddit .
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highttowers · 10 months
Note
Hello i am requesting for Carmen from the Bear!! Something sweet and heart warming about Carmen being worried about the reader and just the whole kitchen seeing how in love he is ❤️ thank you
yes to heaven.
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pairing(s); carmen “carmy” berzatto x gn!reader
fandom; the bear (fx on hulu)
w/c; 758 words
trigger/content warnings; brief sexual implications, brief mention of past injuries, language, richie (he’s a warning all by himself), tina n richie being mean to carmy lol, tina and reader chisme together, is this another fic with an ldr song title????, brief touches on carmy’s trauma (not in-depth cuz this is a fluff fic), not-proof read, lmk if i missed anything.
stella speaks! i need him biblically. at first, i was like “mmm, jeremy allen white” as a joke. but bro. i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…
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Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto who’s always watching you. Who has his eye on you, if you will ;)
Carmy, whose eyes are trailing your figure when you first meet. Not in a sexual way, just taking in every detail. The way you stand, the way you move your hands when you talk. Any time you wear a shirt more than once, the nervous tics you have while he tries your food, if you have any visible tattoos, freckles, or birthmark. His eyes snag on every little thing you do for a split second.
Carmy, whose gaze is locked in your hands while you demonstrate your abilities. He’s taking in every scar, every cut, every tear, every burn that was once fresh in the skin of your hands and committing it to memory. He doesn’t know why, he just is.
Carmy, whose eyes will flicker to your face every so often as you cook, lingering in the scrunch of your brow, the purse of your lip, the muttering under you breath, every curve and divet on your cheeks.
Carmy, whose brain short-circuits the first time he sees you in anything other than your lose white tee, black pants and blue apron. Logically, he knows your body has always been shaped that way, so why is heat crawling up his neck in the biting Chicago air?
Carmy, whose new favorite thing is watching you cook. Especially the recipes you know by heart, when every lovely movement your body makes is muscle memory. Seamless and smooth.
Carmy who appreciates the habit you have of cleaning your station as you cook. Those pale blue eyes locked in you as he exits his office, watching you dumping veggies in a crock pot before scooping up the cutting board, knife, and any food waste and making short work of it.
Carmy who is personally offended by Richie watching you cook. Richie and his Richie-esque comments making him roll his eyes, or warning a scoff. “Makes you wanna know what other moves they can do, eh?” “Shut the fuck up, cousin.”
Carmy, whose habit of paying microscopically close attention to you has whispers from Marcus to Tina to Sydney to you. He appreciates the way you wave them off, using the new kid excuse.
Carmy, who’s been reduced to a stuttering mess when you confront him privately about it. He’s spilling out excuses, until you quietly ask him if he wants to grab coffee with you sometime.
Carmy who, the more and more he arrives to work either with you or with a dumb smile on his face, is getting endless teasing from Richie and Tina. Sydney quietly smiles at him, but mainly sticks to talking about the nature of y’all’s relationship with you.
Carmy, who admittedly fears anytime you let sitting with Tina, exchanging words that have her yelling curses or exclamations in Spanish.
Carmy, who has a retort ready for Richie when he asks you if that means he has a chance now, only to clamp his mouth shut when you wordlessly flip Richie off, bringing another soft look into Carmy’s eyes and a dumb grin on his lips.
Carmy who has to kiss every scar, every mark, every little thing in your body when given the chance. It’s a love language, remembering and worshipping every little thing about you.
Carmy who has his eyes on you so much, regulars at The Beef are silently questioning if there’s anything going on. (there is, but Carmy would sooner be Richie’s personal chef than admit it to customers.)
Carmy whose new greates comfort is you. Any fleeting fragment of you. Maybe you washed his clothes once and now they smell like you. Maybe you hugged him so much your scent lingers in his nose. Maybe he’s got a small piece of jewelry from you or reminiscent of you. Anything that has to do with you can bring him out of the deepest panic.
Carmy who swears up and down and to the ends of the Earth that he’s never gonna lose you. It’s not even an option anymore. He would actually just fall to pieces on the floor.
Carmy who shows the uglier parts of him slowly. You actually have to peel back the first layer and stare it directly in the face without fear before he shows you more. He’s just so scared.
Carmy who’s so so grateful you don’t try to fix him. You just leave him as he is, just giving extra love to those broken bits.
Carmy who used to hate love songs before you arrived.
Carmy who was losing faith in the very idea of love until you arrived.
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thebearer · 2 days
Note
Can you imagine reader doing the “do you know a mike wazowski, he said he knows you and his best friend sully from school?” Trend from TikTok On carmen, Richie, fak and uncle jimmy. And they are all stood around thinking where they would know this person from and discussing it for like an hour and then they bring Tina into it 🤣, and then they get annoyed that the person would even think about approaching you and asking you any thing like that 😂🤣.
Also literally obsessed with your writings 💕❤️
committed to the bit, truly, you get sydney to call the phone and you answer it. pretend to have a whole conversation, then come out.
"that was weird."
carmen's head snaps towards you. "what? what was weird?"
"the guy on the phone." you try to keep your face still, knowing your phone is propped in the window. "he called and said he wanted a reservation, i told him we were pretty booked and he could check online, and he said he knew you guys. that he was family."
"family?" carmen's brows crease.
"who's family?" richie comes in, buttoning his suit.
"the guy on the phone."
"what's his name?"
"wazowski?" you furrow your brows. "i think i'm saying it right. wazowski? mike?"
"mike wazowski?" richie repeated, you nodded. he and carmen look at each other.
"i dunno him-"
"-no, is he- fuck." richie pinches the bridge of his nose. "is cicero still here?"
"oh, please, don't tell me there's more." jimmy snides. "thought you two had it under control."
"no, not that." richie rolls his eyes. "who was, uh, neil's cousin? the one that's been married like twelve times?"
"paul?"
"yeah, what's his last name? wazowski?" richie waves his hand.
"wazowski? no." jimmy frowns shaking his head. "wazowski? no, that's uh... who is that?"
"he said he was coming with sullivan." you take a stilling breath to contain your giggles. you know you can't look at sydney or you both will break in laughter. "sully?"
"sully?" richie, jimmy, and carmen question.
"i dunno who any of those people are." carmen huffs.
"yeah you do. is it- is it pete's family?" richie frowns.
"yeah, i think it is. seems like pete's family." jimmy grumbles.
"doesn't he have that weird uncle-"
"-oh shit, yes. at the wedding. god, that guy wouldn't shut up." jimmy groans. "i thought pete was bad."
"don't call him back." carmen looks at you. "if he calls again, just get richie."
"me?" richie scoffs. "why do i have to talk to that guy? i don't wanna talk to that guy. make sugar do it. it's her family."
"yeah but it's your job, jagoff."
they don't realize later, until the video is posted, that it was in fact, a joke.
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lowkeyrobin · 2 months
Text
MCYT ; when/how they (accidently) reveal the relationship
includes ; quackity, karl jacobs, & foolish gamers
pronouns used ; you/yours , partner
warnings ; language
masterlist
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QUACKITY
he posted a pic of you guys on Twitter
he didn't see nor realize that you guys were holding hands in it and thought it was the same pic wo the hand holding that he wanted to post
it was so small but enough to get people questioning
the next picture was even worse
it was basically just softlaunching your relationship and he didn't even see
apologized sm after he told you like "Hey I think they know we're dating I kinda fucked up"
you couldn't care less
again, waiting on him to just do it himself
next pic he posts is you guys with some other qsmp streamers playing spin the bottle and you guys kissing
like this was your way of just officiating it lmao
KARL JACOBS
for sure kissed you on stream and didn't even realize "oh wait we never really announced this"
he's horrible at keeping secrets so that didn't last long
apologizes profusely but you're just like "dude it's fine lol"
he feels bad but he's now happy cause he doesn't have to hide his love for you
got the good ending lmao
FOOLISH
while streaming with Tina, Karl & Punz
he was joking around with them and he goes "well my awesome partner is cooler so shut up"
"and who is this mystery person you keep talking about???" Karl asks him, totally forgetting that they were streaming and Foolish hadn't properly announced his relationship
"Y/N. The one who's better at Bedwars than you" Foolish giggles
"I knew it!" Karl shouts
Foolish honestly forgot he was streaming too
shrugs it off, he knows you're fine with it being public and he already started kinda soft launching your relationship anyways so it's fine
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moljh · 2 months
Text
Can't Fix Him
Eddie Munson x Reader (fem)
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Inspired by the prompt: 'I can't fix him but I can fuck him'
Fluff, smut, etc
The music was loud. You could feel the vibrations of the base coursing through your body before you had even entered the house. Tina's annual Halloween party was known for being the biggest and best thing in town on this night. She was lucky that her uncle worked in the mayor's office and had connections within the police department, otherwise you were sure the party would've been shut down from noise complaints. It was also a good thing that her lavish house was situated at the end of a sprawling drive, so as to keep the drunk teenagers away from the rest of the roaming children in the streets.
Coming to the front door, your friends didn't bother knocking on the door as it would have been pointless. Walking inside you were immediately hit with the abrasive smell of weed and alcohol in the air. You weren't shocked by the presence of either, but you were surprised at how despite the open back doors how strong the smell remained.
The four of you had your way over to the punch, where you each filled your cup and took a swig of the mystery liquid. A familiar burning flowed down your throat and warmth filled your stomach. It was just what you wanted on a cool night as this and especially after a brutal week at school.
"I'm going to see if I can find Simon" one of your friends declared, venturing off into the crowd to find the boy she had been seeing but refused to say it was officially considered dating
That left the three of you and soon the other two headed off to the bathroom together leaving you on your lonesome. You didn't mind it though, gave you a moment to survey the crowd and gather who was there. In the centre of it all were couples pressed against each other dancing along to the music, while their bodies became sweatier and sweatier.
Having the urge for a cigarette, you decided to do the right thing by Tina and headed out back for a smoke. Winding your way through the people filling the house, you managed to find a chair near the back of the house that wasn't too crowded. You could hear the chanting in the distance and someone was obviously winning some sort of drinking game and you made a mental note to head over that way afterwards to see what all the fuss was about.
Sitting down you began rummaging in your pocket for you pack of smokes and lighter.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath as you realised you had left your lighter in your bag at home
You sat there for a moment, disgruntled in the situation as the unlit cigarette hung from your lips sadly.
"Need some help there?" a voice behind you asked and you spun around to face who had spoken
From the shrouded darkness a few feet in front of you they stepped out like some sort of supervillain and into the light. They had something else between their lips but you could tell from the smell that it wasn't tobacco.
"What's Eddie Munson doing at Tina's party?" you asked smugly He chuckled at your question "How else are those basketball idiots meant to get high?" he retorted "Touché" you said, "can I get that light then?" you asked, gesturing to the still unlit cigarette "What do I get if I do?" Eddie sarcastically questioned back "You get to say for the first time that you made a girls night" you shot back
Leaning forward, he slowly extended his arm and used his lighter to light your cigarette. It was in that moment, as Eddie 'The Freak' Munson was so close to you, with only the dim light from the distance and his lighter that you noticed how handsome he actually was. Hidden underneath the bravado and mane of hair, was an attractive face.
"Definitely not the first time a girl has told me that" he cockily remarked, pulling away
The two of you remained there, content in the silence as he worked his way through the joint and you the cigarette.
"So I know why you came in the first place, but why have you stayed then?" you asked him, though he seemed confused by your question "I mean, I doubt anyone here is exactly welcoming to you" you tried to put in the best possible way, without outright saying that people hated him and thought he was a total freak "Well they're smoking my weed, I may as well drink their booze" "I mean, technically I think it's Rick's weed," you said, shooting him a knowing look "You got me there y/n" he replied and you were surprised he knew your name
You weren't sure how much time had passed, but as you came to the butt of your smoke, you dropped it to the ground and used the tip if your boot to stamp it out. Standing up you looked back to where a crowd was formed on the back lawn and noticed your friends at the edge keeping a watchful eye on you.
"Thanks for the light Munson," you said "Any time y/l/n" Eddie said as you walked away
It took you all of five seconds to walk across the lawn and back into the music and heat of everyone.
"Were you just talking to Eddie Munson?" your friends collectively asked as you rejoined the group "Yeah," you replied nonchalantly "and?" "He's such a freak though" Melanie remarked "He wasn't that bad, you know up close he's actually pretty good looking" "Actually if you look at old photos y/n's not wrong" Andrea chimed in "Yeah, just give it all a bit of a trim and fix him up a bit…" Taylor added "he mightn't be all that bad" "I mightn't be able to fix him in a night…" you began, thinking about what you were about to say next "but I might be able to fuck him"
The three of them let out a shocked gasp at your declaration. Each of you had your own conquests, but your interest in Eddie went against your usual type.
"Oh my god y/n, you can't be serious?" Andrea said Taylor laughed before she spoke "I think it's iconic really, you have to" "And then immediately tell us" Melanie added "I think I'm just tipsy enough that this seems like a good idea" you declared to your friends
You appreciated that they didn't judge you or run off to gossip about your idea. You gave them all a quick goodbye and brief hug before making you way back over to the edge of the house where you'd last seem Eddie.
He wasn't where you had left him all of five minutes ago, so you walked down the side of the house to see if he had made his way to the front. You stood there for a moment, clearly out of place standing by yourself looking around for him. You knew if it took you long enough to find him, you'd lose your confidence and back out of the impulsive decision you were making.
That's when a van pulled up in front of you and the window rolled down to reveal just the guy you'd been looking for.
"You alright?" he asked, seemingly with genuine concern "Feel like giving me a ride?" you softly asked "Sure," he said "jump in"
Getting inside the van you were grateful to see that it was far cleaner inside than expected. Hopping into the passenger seat you began giving Eddie vague directions towards your house, with little intention of actually taking him there. Driving along the bare backroads you began fiddling with your necklace, when you felt the clasp open and it slip from your neck.
"Oh shit," you muttered leaning forward, trying to locate it in the darkness "You right?" Eddie asked, still driving and keeping his eyes on the road "I just dropped my necklace…" you said "do you have a flashlight or something back there that I could use to find it?" "Umm…" he seemed to trail off in thought, trying to go through the van's inventory "there should be one, let me just pull over and check"
Stopping in a spot just off the road, he turned and looked haphazardly behind him for the flashlight, but with no success. Huffing, you undid your seatbelt and climbed over into the back to look for it. Although you were genuinely trying to locate it, you became more aware that Eddie was getting a nice view of your ass as your remained bent over in the back looking for the light.
"I have no clue where this thing is," you declared "can you help me?" "Oh um, yeah, sure…" he replied, "just give me a second"
You heard the ignition turn off and the van move as he climbed over the back to where you were. The two of you continued to look for a few more seconds until you sighed and turned around in supposed defeat.
"It might be a lost cause" you said, adjusting your seat and coincidentally moving closer to where Eddie was "I think so…" he replied, seemingly doing the same movement as you "so…" he awkwardly said, as if to avoid the silence "So what?" you innocently said, looking up at him with flirtatious eyes
You both sat there for a moment, leaning ever so slightly closer to the other, unsure who was going to make the first move. You slowly moved your hand from the floor of the van and along his denim covered thigh. He let out a slight moan at the action which signaled to you that he was happy with your decision.
Continuing the movement of your curious fingers, you grazed them up his firm chest and towards the back of his neck. You carefully ran your fingers through his curls and finally settled on his cheek.
"You're going to need to stop doing that" he gruffly said, shooting you a knowing look "Stop what?" you said with a wide-eyed innocence as if you truly didn't know what you were doing to him "you mean this?" you remarked, moving your other hand up and pausing at the cold clasp of his belt buckle "you want me to stop then?" "Well not know" he said
From there few words were spoken. Eddie wrapped his rough hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into him. His lips were soft and welcoming as he kissed you. You moved with him as he kissed you deeper and held you closer. Moving his hand into your hair he grasped the base of your hair tightly, causing you to let out a soft moan, seeing his chance he gently bit down on your bottom lip and slowly moved his mouth down your neck.
You needed to better position yourself, so you placed your hand flat against his chest and pulled back for a moment. He seemed surprised as you lifted your leg over him and proceeded to straddle him. This time you took charge, peppering kisses along his jaw and down his neck towards his exposed nape. Moving back up you lightly nipped his earlobe making him needily groan.
You could feel his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, and you helped him by pulling it off swiftly. His eyes expanded as he came face to face with your boobs within a bright red lace bra.
"Oh my god you're so gorgeous" he said, cupping your breasts and squeezing them slightly making you grin "This needs to come off now" you informed him referring to his shirt, which is quickly obliged
He didn't waste long removing your bra and throwing it across the van. He brought his lips to your nipples and ran his tongue around them, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Eddie continued this for a bit longer and you anticipated a hickey in the morning.
"My turn" you told him, pushing him down onto his back
He lay there still, as you inched slowly further down. Teasing him, you took your time with his belt, making his squirm as you could already see how hard he was underneath the constraints of the denim. Finally allowing him free, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with them to reveal his impressive length.
He was longer and girthier than you had anticipated, not insanely big but big enough to make you audibly gasp. Running your hand over it, you smirked as he let out a soft moan at your movements. Seductively looking up at him, you made eye contact as you ran your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock. You could feel him throbbing and he couldn't stop letting out moans of pleasure as you continued to wrap your mouth around him.
"Holy shit y/n, just like that" he gasped as you felt him hit the back of your throat and he grabbed ahold of your head and pushed you down further causing you to gag.
Coming back up for air, he looked at you with pure sex in his eyes and leant down, placing a soft kiss to your lips.
"Think it's your turn now," he whispered into your ear and suddenly flipped you over, so now he was on top of you
He pulled your own jeans down quickly and practically ripped your panties off when he came to them. You could feel that you were already wet at that thought of him and shuddered as he ran his fingers over your clit.
"You're so wet" he chuckled, slowly moving his fingers around, slipping one between your folds "Just for you" you muttered, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him touching you You felt his hot breath against your ear as he said "what do you want me to do to you?"
His words made you squirm.
"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk" you said without even thinking "Oh that was a given sweetheart" was all he said before going down on you
His tongue moved with expertise. You'd never had someone move the way he did. Flicking his tongue over your clit he inserted two fingers inside of you and moved them in just the right way. Arching your back he pinned you down, preventing you from moving away from his mouth. It came over you before you could even realise and your body shook with pleasure against his tongue and around his fingers.
"I need you inside of me" you said, desperate to feel him
You could hear him rustling around for a moment and then come back to you, quickly putting a condom on. You were glad that he had come prepared because in the heat of it all you had completely forgot.
You gasped in pleasure as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your opening. You gripped his bare back and ran your nails down it. He held there for a second and then thrusted the rest of his length within you. You couldn't help but let out a cry as he filled you up completely.
"Are you ok?" he immediately asked upon hearing you "Yes!" you exclaimed, overcome with pleasure "keep going"
He began to thrust in and out of you, making you shuddering beneath him. As he moved you rotated your hips with him, causing him to moan as well. You stayed like that for a while, consumed within each other until his pace began to slow.
"Are you going to cum for me?" you asked, wanting him to say yes "I'm so close" he breathily said against your lips as he pulled you back in "Good" you said
He get pumping into you and suddenly quickened again, slamming into you making your walls tighten. Your breath began to shorten and you dug your fingers into his back again, as his breaths faltered too and you felt yourself approaching the edge once again. Eddie let out a few final moans and you felt yourself contract around him as you came simultaneously.
"Fuck" he gasped as he finally came and collapsed in exhaustion next to you "Wow" was all you said, staring up in disbelief at the ceiling of the van
You half expected him to get straight up and drive you home, but he rolled onto his side and pulled you towards him once again. Kissing you this time it felt less desperate and hungry, more sincere and soft.
"Is that how you expected tonight to go?" you asked, chuckling lightly "Let's just say I didn't think offering a light to y/n y/l/n would end up with me having the best sex of my life in the back of my van" he declared "Damn," you remarked "best sex of your life eh? Think I deserve a medal or something for that" "Trust me," Eddie said, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck once more "you can ask for more than just that"
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lovebugism · 6 months
Note
Hii can i request “It’s a brain freeze, you’re not dying, stop making a scene.” with steve for the fictober event pretty please
ty for requesting lovie!! — you and steve get too drunk at a halloween party and chief hopper comes to save you (tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, tw for drinking and not being proofread, 1.7k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Steve opens the back door of Jim’s cop car for you, swaying in place and urging your drunken limps inside. “Thanks for picking us up, Chief,” you chirp, slurring slightly and smiling wide.
The old grump sends you a deadpanned look over his shoulder. He’s visibly tired, features blurred with exhaustion. His white t-shirt and pajama pants are still wrinkled with leftover sleep. The two of you are wearing two a.m. very definitely.
“Yeah, yeah. Just buckle up, alright?” he hums gruffly as Steve slides in beside you. “I’m just happy you two called me and didn’t try to drive yourself.”
He puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb. The bass pulsing from Tina’s house begins to fade. The man flinches dramatically when you lean forward to slap his shoulder.
“That’s ‘cause we’re responsible adults,” you quip, then turn to your right to look at your boyfriend. “Aren’t we, Stevie?”
The Stevie in question is on a different planet entirely. His hair is a wild chestnut halo on his head, the crown of it tilted to the headrest. The tendons of his neck are on display, as are the faint red lipstick stains you pressed onto his tanned skin. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 
Cheeks rosy and eyes fluttered shut, you can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not.
“Right, Stevie?” you repeat with a gentle shove to his arm.
His eyes open, red-rimmed and glassy. “Hm?”
“We’re responsible.”
“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Look at us,” he scoffs without a second thought.
The two of you flash a couple of drunk, lopsided grins at Jim, who peers at you from the rearview mirror. He grumbles something under his breath neither of you can make out.
You get distracted by the amber streetlights flitting by until looking out the window makes you queasy. When you look at Steve again, his eyes are shut and his chin is tilted towards his chest. You feel an obligation to keep him awake — like he’s concussed or something and not just piss drunk.
“You with me, Stevie?” you mutter, reaching for his face and holding his stubbly chin between your thumb and forefinger.
His heavy eyelids flutter slowly open. His dark eyes are honeyed. They flit like syrup across your features. A smile pulls at the right corner of his plush mouth. “You look so pretty right now, you know that?” he murmurs in inaudible slurs.
You hear him anyway, equally as drunk and speaking the same language even though Jim can’t understand a word.
“Just right now?” you tease. “As opposed to, like, every other moment in time?”
His bushy brows twist in offense — nose scrunching and lips pouting, like you’ve pained him by even joking about it. “No. You’re pretty all the time, just… A little extra like this.”
You don’t know what he means. You look like a total mess — hair wild, makeup smudged, drunk and fatigued and wearing it all over. But Steve looks at you like you’re beautiful anyway. Like you hung the fucking moon sitting full in the pitch black sky.
His brows raise and his eyes sparkle. “’S kinda makin’ my heart race a little bit, actually.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, turning him away from you and letting go of his chin. “That’s just the alcohol, Stevie.”
“No, it’s love—”
You giggle at his slurred singing, louder when he leans across the backseat to kiss you. His aim is horribly off, wet mouth smacking at the corner of your lips down towards your chin. 
Hopper shouts at you anyway. “Hey! Uh-uh, no sucking face in my backseat— especially not in front of me, alright?” the man grouses, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Spare me the emotional turmoil, will ya?”
You sneak a quiet peck to Steve’s pouted mouth when Jim’s not looking.
The boy grins with contentment a second later. “Mm,” he hums, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “You taste like cherry.”
“It’s the punch. It tasted just like slurpees, I swear—” You’re about to start rambling, then cut yourself off with a dramatic gasp. “Hopper!”
“No,” the man montones from the front seat. It’s like he can read your mind. 
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” you whine with a pout.
“I’m not stopping for slurpees, alright? I’m taking you kids home so you can sober up and get the hell out from under me. That’s it.”
There’s a brief moment of silence. For that fleeting second, Jim thinks he’s won. Then you and Steve inhale a deep breath and beg at the same time, “Pleaseeee!”
He sighs so deeply his chest deflates like a popped balloon. He readjusts his grip on the pleather steering wheel and grumbles like a storm cloud.
“Jim, please,” you beg, dramatic and terribly loud with it. The man flinches when you reach forward to grab his arm. He slows at a stoplight and turns back to look at you, bathed in neon red and sparkling with desperation. “I need slurpees to live.”
Jim blinks at you for a moment, then turns away when the light goes green again. He shakes his head and mumbles, “God, you’re so dramatic…” 
You smile all giddy as you sit back because you know you’ve won.
“You’re lucky I need to get gas, anyway,” he tells you, just to make himself feel better, as he pulls into the nearest Seven-Eleven parking.
The intensity of the fluorescent lights makes you squint. The very distant headache you’ve been fighting off since midnight starts to creep back up again. Steve sees this — because there’s nothing about you he doesn’t notice — and swipes his sunglasses off his face to put them on you.
“Thanks, Zuko,” you joke as he pushes the plastic up the bridge of your nose.
Jim, seemingly less grumpy than moments before, unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at the two of you over his shoulder. “That’s what you guys are supposed to be?” he scoffs out a laugh as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “Those kids from Grease?”
“No,” you answer with a dramatic drawl. “I’m you. Duh.”
Hopper almost breaks his neck with the double take he gives you. He squints at your tropical-patterned shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and tucked into your jeans, and realizes you are him. He doesn’t know if he should be mad or honored.
“I was supposed to be Sandy, but then Steve ripped the costume,” you reason with a shrug.
Jim’s eyes narrow. “Was it too small?”
“Nope,” you answer in a monotone, popping the ‘p.’
His scruffy face twists like he’s tasted something sour. “You guys are disgusting.”
“It was a blessing in disguise, though. This is, like, a kajillion times more comfortable.”
Steve nods beside you, slow and sloppy and full of hubris. “This was a much better choice.”
“It’s super hot, right?”
“Total dilf material.”
Jim’s features scrunch. It’s like you two are speaking a different language. “What the hell does that mean?” he wonders aloud. 
You and Steve share a look before snickering and getting out of the car. 
He repeats, louder this time. “Hey. What does dilf mean? Hey! I’m talking to you—”
His only answer is the slam of the car door.
Like an annoyed father, Jim swears at the two of you under his breath while he pumps gas but eyes both of you attentively to make sure you get inside without busting your ass. 
When he follows you to pay, he finds you acting like a couple of unsupervised toddlers. You lick flavored ice from your fingertips while Steve leans back with his face beneath the lever, pouring blue raspberry slush into his mouth.
“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim scolds from the entrance, brows pinched and mouth agape. Your eyes go wide, still licking syrup from your fingers. Steve, meanwhile, is still trying to swallow his melting mouthful. Hopper shakes his head. “There are cups right next to you.”
The man escorts the both of you out after he pays. 
Steve holds one of your hands and swings it between your bodies. Your free hand is at your head, rubbing gently at your temples. The ache is distant and dull, like an ice pick has been shoved inside your skull.
“Ow…” you whine softly to yourself when getting into the car jostles the pain. 
Jim watches you try and fail to buckle yourself in. He can’t tell if you’re still just drunk or if your headache’s making it harder for you. Maybe both. He reaches over to help you anyway.
“It’s just a brain freeze, you’re not dying,” the man grouses over your whining, clicking the latch into place. “Stop making a scene about it. You’re fine.”
He leans back from you and is about to shut the door. Then, with a flat face, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“My head hurts…” you murmur, slurring like a sick child desperate to be babied.
Hopper sighs. “You’re okay…”
He shuts the door with a gentle push. He gets into the driver’s seat and resumes the drive home in a relative quiet.
You and Steve lean against each other in the backseat. He hogs the slurpee you both agreed to share, but you don’t mind. You’re still fighting off a headache like you’re fighting off sleep.
“Did you have fun?” the boy asks you, resting his cheek against your hair. You can smell the blue raspberry on his breath.
“I always have fun,” you mumble.
“At Halloween parties?”
“No, dummy. With you.”
“Oh,” he hums with a crooked smile you can’t see. “Sweet.”
Jim’s smiling to himself before he means to, shaking his head at how goddamn in love the two of you are. It’s so sanguine, it makes him sick.
He slows when he pulls up to Steve’s house. The mansion is totally empty — not a car in the driveway or a single light on. No one’s here, because no one’s ever here. 
“Alright, lovebirds. We’re here. Get out,” he announces, voice gruff with the sleep he wishes he was getting.
The car jerks softly when he puts it in park. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds you and Steve totally knocked out. Eyes shut, mouths open, lips stained purple from red and blue slurpees.
Jim huffs. “You gotta be kidding me…”
He feigns annoyance about the whole thing because he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s the grumpy old man you come to for help — that’s his thing. So even in your sleep, he grumbles with a light-hearted irritation as he drives you back to the cabin. At least there he can keep an eye on you both.
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hbyrde36 · 5 months
Text
STWG Daily Drabble 11/7/2023
Prompt: Unexpected conversation
Eddie didn’t know what to think when Max approached him out in the field just as everyone was wrapping up their preparations for going after Vecna. Dustin had just gone off to talk to Steve about something when the, frankly intimidating, redhead made a beeline for him. 
“Hey Munson, we need to talk.” She said. 
He was taken aback. Sure they were neighbor’s and all but they didn’t really know each other that well, and she was surrounded by friends here. He couldn’t imagine what she would need him for, but who was he to deny the girl who’d been cursed by Vecna himself. 
“Sure, Red. What’s, uh... what’s up?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an honest-to-god once over. Suddenly he felt like he was being picked apart by an adversary and being studied for weaknesses. Which was weird considering they were on the same side here. He was so confused. 
She cleared her throat and held piercing eye contact as she hit him with her question. “What’s going on with you and Steve? I mean, what are your intentions?”
Eddie couldn’t help but burst out laughing. There was no way she could possibly know he was gay, and obviously Steve wasn’t. So it had to be some kind of joke.
Right?
One look at Max’s face silenced him abruptly. 
For some reason, she looked pissed. “Well that’s about as clear an answer as I could have asked for. Is this a fucking joke to you?”
Eddie glanced around, hoping someone, anyone, would come and rescue him from the scary teenager, but everyone was busy with their own taks. 
“Wait, what do you mean? Are you serious?” He said finally.
“As a heart attack, dickhead. I know I don't always show it, but Steve means a lot to me, okay? I don’t want to see him get hurt again.” She looked off briefly in the direction she’d come from. Where Nancy was still working on her sawed off shotgun and making sure she had enough ammunition. 
“I don't understand.”
He really didn’t.
Eddie got the Nancy thing. He’d had a nearly front row seat to the show the night their relationship had imploded in the bathroom of Tina’s Halloween party. He'd been dealing just across the hall and couldn’t help but overhear, but he didn’t know what he had to do with any of that. 
“The boys might all be blind but I'm not,” Max began. “I was watching you guys on the boat through the binoculars.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. 
“Okay fine, I was watching Steve take his shirt off through the binoculars. Sue me, have you seen him? Whatever, I saw the way you were looking at him and-”
Eddie cut her off. “Max… that’s… you can’t just say that shit, alright?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to out you, Munson. Trust me, I don’t care if you’re gay. I’m not gonna, like, tell anybody.”
Good to know. 
“Okay fine, good, I guess. Thanks. But, what’s all this shit about me and Steve?”
She furrowed her brows for a moment and then something seemed to click in her head. “Oh. So you are as stupid as you look.”
“Hey!”
“Just calling ‘em how I see ‘em.” She shrugged.
“Jesus christ, all you kids and you’re fucking tones I swear to god.” He muttered.
“Look, I'm just gonna say it. Usually I wouldn't get involved, but since no one can blame the dying girl for meddling, I- ”
Eddie softened. “Max...”
He knew she didn't like sympathy, she's made that abundantly clear, but he coudn't help it. She shut it down immedietely though.
“I’m fine, just listen. Steve clearly likes you.”
“I mean, we did have a little talk in the weird freaky woods, and we definitely don’t hate each other anymore, but I…”
Max snorted. “See? Stupid.”
Eddie gaped at her. “Dude, what did I ever do to you?”
She pointedly ignored his outburst. 
“Like I said. I saw the way you looked at him on the boat and then I saw the way he looked at you when you got back. Then there was that whole thing in the RV." She shuddered. "I don’t know what happened in between, and I don't want to, I just want to make sure you know that if you hurt him we will all collectively kick your ass. You might be one of us now, but Steve's been there from the beginning. He’s saved all of our lives, more than once. He deserves to be happy.”
Eddie took a deep breath. He could appreciate what she was saying, and yeah maybe he had started to develop a small crush on the guy. Anyone would after seeing him rip that demobat apart with his bare hands… and mouth. 
Jesus Christ, Eddie stop thinking about his mouth!
“Listen, Red. I think it’s sweet, what you're trying to do here, but I cannot stress to you how unnecessary this is. Nothing is going on between Steve and I. Even if I wanted that– and I'm not saying I do!” He was quick to add. “He is literally the straightest guy I've ever seen.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He didn't have to.”
“There you go again, putting people in boxes!” Max scrunched her nose in disgust. “Isn’t that against your whole thing?” She asked, gesturing at the general, everything, about him.
“Technically, yes. But…”
“But nothing! You shouldn’t assume things about people. You should talk to him.”
“There is no way in hell I'm asking Steve Harrington if he’s gay!”
“Not that dip shit. Just, i don't know, tell him you like him!”
“Why do I have to put myself out there?!” Eddie shouted, a touch too loud. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just denied it.
Max sighed deeply. “Because Steve won’t. He’s probably scared and he’ll just keep flirting with you until you get the hint and I gotta be honest, I don't have a lot of faith in you on that front after this conversation. So I'm gonna need you to bite the bullet on this one.”
Eddie chewed his lip. He couldn't believe this girl actually had him considering this. 
Was it worth the risk if she was wrong? 
Maybe. 
What did he have to lose it anyway if it went badly?
“Okay. Fine. If we all survive this I promise I'll talk to him. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
And then Eddie wasn’t an idiot and he didn’t go after the demobats alone and he didn’t die. Steve however did wind up in the hopistal, because how could he fucking not have gotten an infection with that many open wounds running around in a fucking hell dimension. Eddie sat by his bedside and one night confessed his crush. And then they kissed and lived happily ever after. The end.
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afewproblems · 7 months
Text
Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!
Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...
***
"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"
"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.
"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"
Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.
"Doesn't matter anymore".
Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.
He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.
Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 
Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 
"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.
He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.
"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"
Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".
He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.
His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.
"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 
Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.
"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 
Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 
***
Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.
"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 
Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 
Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"
"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 
"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.
Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 
'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'
Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 
The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 
***
Steve beats him to the house.
He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 
Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.
Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 
"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 
Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.
No shoes? Fucking rich people man.
Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"
He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 
If anything, Eddie has more questions. 
Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".
Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?
He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 
Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.
He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.
Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 
Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.
"You said something about outside?"
***
By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--
Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.
He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.
"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 
He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.
Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 
Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.
"Major Tom?"
Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 
"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"
Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".
He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".
"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.
Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 
Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.
"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.
"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 
Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  
And Wayne would never hurt him. 
Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.
"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".
"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.
"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 
"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.
"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 
Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 
"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".
Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"
Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 
Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.
"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"
"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 
Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 
"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 
Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.
"Steve? STEVE?!" 
The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 
"Dustin?" 
A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.
"I need your help".
Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson
Part Five
and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic
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arthenaa · 1 year
Text
Say Yes To Me - Ominis Gaunt x Reader
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Plot Summary: After your eventful years at Hogwarts, you are now a famous magizoologist known by all. Life's great and all's well until you see Ominis Gaunt's engagement on the daily prophet.
Content Tags: that dilemma newt and tina had in fantastic beasts, yeah this is it but its you and ominis, ominis works at the ministry, mentions of ominis's older brother, gender neutral reader, sebastian being sebastian, slight angst if you squint, reader trying to keep their shit together, kiss kiss fall in love, idiots in love basically.
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"Poppy! Can you please hand me the eye drops for the mooncalfs? I think I left it upstairs!"
You had yelled from your place within the Erumpent's mouth as you examined it's molars with your illuminated wand. This certainly wasn't a good position to look at, after all who would be putting their head inside a giant's mouth knowing it could very well decapitate you in seconds. However, this was the usual for you.
After graduating Hogwarts, your specialties and skills have led you to the magizoology field due to your affinity with beasts. It wasn't a big surprise to all considering you had always excelled in Beasts class and the questionable returns to the castle with a new beast curling in your arms. Professor Fig had often joked about which magical creature you'd be holding in your pocket for the day. He thinks it's absolutely comical whenever you did have one.
With your accomplishments and great efforts in defeating Ranrok, you had immediately garnered influence and reputation in magizoology, earning you the title of being the wizard world's most famous magizoologist. It certainly helped a lot with gaining access to various areas all over the world for you to rescue and release the beasts within your care.
Currently in your apartment in London, you busy yourself with a checkup on the beasts. Poppy Sweeting, a very old friend and your co-worker as well had been your partner since last year. The two of you lived together in the apartment and tended to the needs of the wondrous beings living in the magical depths of your basement.
You lift yourself from the creature's mouth, smiling as you gently caress it's horn. The Erumpent nudges your hand, unaware of its strength causing you to stumble back. "Easy Lola. Feels better doesn't it?"
It lets out a grunt before turning to do whatever it was originally doing. You let out a sigh as you turn to look up the stairs, waiting for the former Hufflepuff to come back with the eyedrops. "Poppy? Did you get lost or something?"
"Sorry! I just received today's newspaper." Poppy apologetically replies as she rushes down with the drops on her arms. She stops in front of you, a sympathetic look on her face.
"What's wrong?" You look at her, confused. She gives you the eyedrops with a sheepish smile. "You look worried."
"I— Well. It's fine," She nervously chuckles as she places the newspaper on the cluttered table behind you. "It's just the usual anyway."
You furrowed your eyebrows at her skittish behavior before shoving the eyedrops back to her arms and grabbing the newspaper from the table. Poppy tries to steal it back from you but you simply raise your hand and using your height advantage.
"I swear, Y/N. It's just the usual! You needn't concern yourself with it!" Poppy reasons as she tries to jump up and take the paper from your hands.
"You always read it out to me, I don't get what all the fuss is about if it's just the—" And there it was. Written in bold letters at the front page was a name you didn't even expect to reach the Daily Prophet. "... usual."
"I told you." Poppy sighs as she takes a step back. Your eyes were stuck on the front page, rereading the same set of letters printed on the paper.
Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier. The Gaunts continue to rise.
Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier.
Ominis Gaunt engaged.
You let out a shaky gasp as you hide your face with the newspaper. Poppy stares with a sad look on her face. Everyone knew of your trio. Wherever Sebastian was, everyone expected Ominis and you to be there. The three of you were stuck to the hip and it was like that for the rest of your years in Hogwarts. It was because of that fact that you'd fallen in love with one of them. Many suspected it to be Sebastian but it was in fact the blue eyed blonde that had your heart in his grasp. You had tried to hide it in your 6th year but failed because of Sebastian's meddling and so you had this weird situationship with him during your last year in Hogwarts. It was never established that you two were together but the fleeting touches and lingering glances were the reason you held on for so long.
Being a magizoologist meant that you needed to travel a lot. Mostly it was out of the country and that meant you rarely got the chance to see him after your graduation and so over time, you two had fallen out of communication. You hoped, hoped, that someday you'd be able to face him and that he would return the same feelings that he proclaimed back then in the safety of the Undercroft, your hands in his and a warm smile on his face but apparently, Merlin had other plans for you.
Poppy makes a move to comfort you but you suddenly pull away, looking at her with a crazed look. "No. No! Don't comfort me. I'd feel all the more pathetic."
"Eh, well. I've seen you in worse situations." Poppy smiles. You roll your eyes, mood gone sour as you toss the newspaper in the fireplace before pointing your wand at it and casting Incendio. Poppy looks between the fireplace and at your face. "I still needed that—"
You send her a glare to which she raises her hands up in defense. You grab the eyedrops from her and walk over to the mooncalfs who chirp at your presence. Blobs of liquid fall down the dropper as you give your undivided attention to the cute beasts in front of you.
Yeah. I'll just stay here and wallow in my misery. At least, I have my beasts with me.
"I can literally hear what you're thinking, Y/N." Poppy chuckles as she watches you tend to your creatures. "I won't let you lock yourself in here for 4 weeks."
"How'd you know it's going to last 4 weeks?" You reply as you turn to glance at her for a moment before going back to tending to the mooncalfs. "I've got a call for a Thunderbird in North America. I'd probably just bury myself in work... Forever."
"Do you really believe the news? You know Daily Prophet has a tendency to overexaggerate details. It's basically the whole point of journalism." Poppy shrugs as she plays with a loose thread on her coat. You let out a breath as you turn towards her with a deadpan look on your face.
"How can you exaggerate an engagement exactly? Tell me Poppy, I would like to be enlightened." You sarcastically reply as you finish the mooncalfs before moving on to the puffskeins. Poppy follows you, finding the situation amusing.
"I find it to be considerably suspicious. Didn't Ominis mention that he would be renouncing his own family? It's just so odd that out of nowhere he's engaged." Poppy reasons as you lift a puffskein in your arms, examining it's physique. Poppy moves to stand next to you, lightly petting the creature in your arms.
"Stop pulling ideas out of your arse, Poppy." You mumble. Poppy rolls her eyes before slapping your arm. You yelp in pain before gently putting the puffskein back with it's family.
"I'm just saying you really can't believe baseless stories unless you hear it from the source." Poppy leans on the fence surrounding the puffskein enclosure as she looks at you with a smile. You look back at her with a frustrated huff. "On the bright side, if it's true, then you'd get to finally move on!"
"Merlin help me or I will use an unforgivable on myself." You mutter as you bury your face in your hands. Poppy full on punches your arm causing you to groan. "Ow! Do it again and I'll fire you! For real, this time!"
"Yeah? Eat shit." Poppy snorts to which you flip her off. "You have no choice, you'll get to see him tomorrow anyway."
"Yeah..." You absentmindedly reply before your eyes widen in fear. "Huh? Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow?!"
"Don't tell me you forgot that you'd have to renew your wand permit and travel visa." Poppy chuckles. "I heard Ominis works in that department. Such a perfect timing, isn't it?"
You let out a horrified gasp as you crouch down on the floor. You'd rather let yourself be swallowed by a basilisk if it meant that you'd get to postpone seeing Ominis Gaunt (a bit of a overreaction but it doesn't matter).
"Can't you just do that for me?" You whine as you grab the bottoms of her coat. Poppy slaps it away.
"I can't renew your own wand, dumbass. I already did mine a week ago. You were too busy drinking away with Sebastian." Poppy pats your head as an apology before making her way back upstairs. "Wear your best perfume tomorrow, love! I'm sure he'll ditch Rosier for you."
Poppy winks before laughing. You glare at the Hufflepuff as she ascended up the stairs.
I can't do this. Fuck.
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"You can do this, dumbass."
Sebastian grabs your shoulders, preventing you from leaving the building. It seems that the Sallow boy had taken on Poppy's role as your tormentor for the day and it doesn't help that he's an auror. Wand permits are a must and being deemed as an illegal wand owner is not really the best look for your reputation. You look back at Sebastian, giving him the best crup eyes you could muster.
"I will hurl you myself into that department if you do that again." Sebastian threatens with raised eyebrows to which you pout and frown. "I know why you're feeling so skittish today. Everyone's gossiping about it and it's not really the best thing to hear about your best friend. Talk to him. You, of all people, should know that."
You feel your body surrender to Sebastian's tough grip as he walks with you (more like drags) to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He places you in front of an office before turning you towards him as he fixes your tie and hair. You look up at him with sad eyes. "Is it too late to apparate out of here?"
"Wizards and witches can't apparate within ministry grounds. You'd have to go outside for that." He smiles brightly as he tucks a stray hair back to your hairstyle. He leans close to sniff you before furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation. "New perfume?"
"Ugh. It was Poppy's idea." You flush at Sebastian's discovery. The former Slytherin chuckles.
"He'd love that for sure." Sebastian winks.
"Shut up."
"You know he's just as whipped for you as you are for him, right?" He pats your arm before slipping his hands in the pockets of his coat. "You have nothing to worry about."
"Easy for you to say." You mumble. Sebastian's eyes crinkle as he smiles at your sulking behavior before it moves slightly to the side of your face, directed behind you.
"Sebastian." A voice you haven't heard in months was finally within your presence. You're almost too afraid to turn around but you're glad you did. Ominis had grown so well in your absence. The face once filled with soft curves had now developed more into a sharper and sculpted face. He seems more taller and leaner than before and absolutely looks dashing in his three piece suit. Your mouth falls open as you unashamedly check him out. ".... is that you, Y/N?"
You had almost forgotten to reply if it weren't for Sebastian hard nudge to your ribs. You yelp in pain, clutching your side as you glare at the man beside you. "O-Ominis, hey...."
The gorgeous man in front of you smiles nervously as he shifts in his position. "What brings you here? I've heard a lot about your travels. It seems you were quite busy these past few months."
"Y-yeah. Lot of creatures need saving, y'know?" You laugh awkwardly as you glance at Sebastian who looks like he's about to combust with how red he is from preventing his laughter.
Awkward silence engulfs the three of you and Sebastian had to calm himself down to prevent him from cracking up. "They're here for a renewal, both wand and visa. I don't want to chase a magizoologist all across the world just because they forgot basic wizard law."
"Haha, funny." You sarcastically reply. Sebastian winks at you before walking towards Ominis who leans close to whisper something to him. The blonde flushes and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck did Sebastian say to him that got him coughing and blushing.
"I'll see you two later for lunch! Admin needs me." Sebastian waves before rushing off. This now leaves the two of you standing in the hallways of the ministry. You let out an awkward cough that alerts Ominis.
"Ah Right. Come in." He nervously opens the door to his office. You cautiously enter the room, marveling at the sight of his cozy office. Paraphernalia decorates the shelves on his walls with banners of his former house, Slytherin hung on one side of the wall. A plant is situated on one corner and an array of food is presented on one side. Comfortable chairs are positioned in front of his desk and a flashy name plate with the words 'Ominis Gaunt, Department of Magical Law Enforcement' engraved on it. What catches your eye though is a frame of you three on his desk. It was captured on your last day in Hogwarts. The picture moves as you three huddle for the picture, smiles on your faces before laughing at one another. It continues on a loop that puts a smile on your face.
"I have this on my desk too." You mumble softly as you lift the frame to admire it more. Ominis smiles before sitting behind his desk, putting his wand down and leaning back on the chair.
"Yeah. It's made quite differently for me." He extends his hand, palm facing up as he signals for you to give it to him. You place it on his hand and with a grab of his wand and a flick of his wrist, you suddenly hear sounds from the frame.
"Sebastian come closer!"
"I'm already close! Do you want me to fuse into you or something?"
"Can you guys shut up, he's taking the memento!"
Then laughter was heard. Ominis smiles at the audio before placing the frame back on his desk. "I play that whenever I miss you two."
You look at him as he fiddles with his wand, still reminiscing the memory. Whenever he misses me, huh? And Sebastian... Of course. Don't get too ahead of yourself.
"Listen Omini-"
"Y/N-"
The two of you began to speak at once and stopped altogether. A moment of silence is heard before you both laugh at the situation. "You go first." Ominis smiles with a nudge of his hand.
You look at him, remembering the details of his face as you decide that this is it. The moment you'll let go of him. It shouldn't be a surprise to you that Ominis would get married soon. He came from a family known for keeping their blood pure and while you hoped that he'd escape the grasps of his wretched bloodline, it seems like even he would not be able to and so as a good friend of his, you'll just try to be happy for his sake.
"Listen, I came here not just because I needed to renew my visa and permit. I just really wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you." You bite your lip, distracting yourself with the physical pain rather than the emotional one. Too invested in thinking of what to say, you fail to notice Ominis's face drop at your words. "I-I know it's hard but I want you to know that I'll always be here. Me and Sebastian. I'll support you and--"
"Wait! No!" Ominis abruptly stops your speech which you were grateful for because if you continued any further, you fear that you'd end up bawling in front of him. "I-I don't want you to be happy."
"Huh?"
"I mean-- I don't want you to be happy that I'm happy because it's not happy at all. But for you, I'm happy--" Ominis fumbles with his words as he grips the fabric of his pants on his knees. "It doesn't make sense but you know what I'm talking about."
Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek before letting out a confused laugh. "... I actually don't know what you're talking about."
"I should be the one saying that to you." He whispers as he leans forward to rest his face in his hands before taking a deep breathe and exhaling. "I-I heard that you were seeing people and I just- I just wanted to congratulate you."
Seeing people? What in Merlin's name?
"Ominis." You blink in confusion. "Who told you this?"
"Uh... Sebastian?" He mumbles quietly as if he had been caught doing something wrong.
"I'm not seeing anyone, Ominis. Did you really let yourself be fooled by Sebastian, again?" You giggle as you watch his expression change from nervous to annoyed.
"That bloody fool always read me news about you. I can't believe he faked me out on this one. Of all things!" He groans in frustration. "I'll skin that boy."
"Please don't. Merlin knows we'll need him as a scapegoat for something in the future." You joke. He laughs at your jest and you almost let yourself fall all over again. "Aside that, I'm really happy for your engagement."
A confused look is back on his face again before a dreaded look appears on his face. This is the most expressive you've seen Ominis ever since he caught you sneaking out of the Undercroft. "Gods Y/N. I'm not engaged. I-It's my older brother who's going to be engaged to Eleanor. We both have similar names and the Daily Prophet assumed that it's me. I've already sent a report regarding that."
You have never felt more relieved in your life. You bury your face in your palms. "God, I thought I was about to die. I had almost tried to bury myself in work for 4 weeks because of that."
"Why?" Ominis stands up from his seat as he feels his way around and eventually kneels down in front of your seat. "Why would you want to do that?"
You remove your face from your palms before cupping his cheeks. "I admit I have made myself scarce these past few months but I have-- I still am hoping that you... you..."
You couldn't bring yourself to finish as you stare at his face that looked so full of hope and so you did the only thing you knew that would communicate the words you couldn't tell him.
"Y/N?" He softly speaks your name before you pull his face to yours and pressing your lips to his. Ominis had frozen in shock but eventually recovered as he pressed himself closer to yours. His arm encases your waist while the other cups your cheek. Lips move against one another as thousands of unspoken words flow through the air. The two of you release one another with a final peck before a smile graces your faces.
"I'm still hoping that you're in love with me." You finish as your index finger gently caresses the beauty marks that grace his skin. He closes his eyes at the feel of your touch before grabbing hand to kiss the inside of your wrist.
"Yes. Yes I am." He answers with no hesitation. You smile at his confession before pulling him in a tight hug. He releases you after a short while, hands cupping your face as he continues to leave chaste kisses all over it. You giggle at his affections. "I wasn't able to ask you back then but will you be mine? Merlin knows how long I've wanted to ask you this."
He has a hopeful look on his face that makes you want to coo and baby him but all you do is smile and peck his lips. "Of course. I'd always say yes to you."
The two of you smile and bask in each others presence before you're reminded of his face flushing earlier. "By the way, what did Sebastian say to you awhile ago?"
Ominis's face flushes before intertwining your fingers. "He told me to make the most out of your stay."
You let out an amused chuckle. Sebastian that sneaky motherfucker.
Before you could tease him about it, Ominis grabs your hips and pulls you in close. "Think Sebastian will mind waiting for a while? I'd like to heed his advice for once."
You chuckle before biting your lip as he pulls you up, grabbing your thighs and carrying you to his desk. You wrap your arms around his neck as he brushes his lips against yours.
"Go ahead, I don't think he will."
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A/N: i also want to makeout w him in his office good lord. anys tysm for supporting my workss. i love writing for my two idiots <3
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estrellami-1 · 9 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
After pizza—and after El wakes up and eats her own pizza—everyone gathers around again to listen to Steve and Robin. “So I think by now we’ve proven we’re from the future,” Steve says. “We’re here, four years in the past, because a lot of bad things happen, and if we can, we’d like to stop those things from happening. The big one, and really the recurring problem, is a guy named Henry Creel who essentially took control of an alternate plane of existence we call the Upside Down.” He motions El over beside him, and she goes gladly, tucking her feet up onto the couch as she leans into his side, trusting him to hold her up. He does, sliding a protective arm around her shoulders as he says, “He’s also One.”
He watches as one by one the lightbulbs come on. “Oh, shit,” Dustin whispers, and Steve doesn’t even call him on it, just nods.
“Beyond Henry, though, there are creatures in the Upside Down that can and will kill you.” He rolls his eyes fondly at the boys. “For some inexplicable reason, you came up the names, so they’re called demogorgons, demodogs, and demobats. Demogorgons are what took Barb and Will, but they both got away. That doesn’t mean they’re safe, though. Like El said earlier, Barb was safe in the moment, but it’s still a very dangerous place. There are vines everywhere that are connected to a hive mind. You step on one, and Henry knows you’re there.”
He continues telling the story, Robin interrupting when there’s a detail he misses. It’s silent when they finish. Finally, El speaks up. “So, it is… my fault?”
“No, El,” Steve says softly. “None of this is your fault. Things out of your control happened that made you who you are. Those same things created all of this.”
El frowns. “So I am bad? Like One? Like the Upside Down?”
“No,” Mike says sharply. “You’re good, El.”
“He’s right,” Steve murmurs. “You made yourself good.” He pokes her arm teasingly, and she smiles, leaning back into him.
Steve looks around, catches Nancy’s eye, and sighs. “Nance? A word?”
“Steve?” Robin asks.
He shakes his head. “I’ll yell if I need you,” he promises, rubbing her head as he passes. She squawks and bats his hand away.
“Asshole,” she mutters, and he laughs as he disappears down the hallway, Nancy in tow.
They end up in a room Steve thinks was meant to be a study. “You have questions.”
“Understatement of the century. There’s just one that’s really bugging me, though.”
“Us?”
“Yeah.”
Steve sighs and leans against the wall. “On Halloween, Tina throws a party. We didn’t know what we do now, about the Upside Down, and you were still looking for her. I was an asshole, self-centered and unhelpful.” He blows out a breath, crosses his arms, and looks away. “You got drunk, called me, and my love for you, bullshit. Left. I tried to talk to you the next day at school about it and you couldn’t say you loved me. I was still hopeful. I’m a romantic at heart, y’know? I thought maybe if I could be everything you needed, if I changed enough, if, if, if…” he shakes his head. “So we stayed together. I tried. You slept with Jonathan Byers, then broke up with me.”
Nancy looks horrified. “Steve-”
He shakes his head. “I made my peace with it. And maybe this makes me an asshole, I dunno, but Nance, I can’t go back. We’re okay, we’re friends, but I can’t pretend I still have feelings for you. I’m sorry, but we both know I was just convenient for you.”
Nancy takes a breath. “So that’s it?”
Steve shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I tried and got my heart broken for it. I moved on, found someone I think I can really be happy with, without changing who I am. And for the record? It gets rocky for a second, but I think you and Byers are it, too.” He smirks. “Plus Mike likes him better than me.”
Nancy rolls her eyes. “Oh, well, if Mike likes him better…” they both laugh, and she looks at him. “No more feelings?”
He shakes his head. “We make much better friends.”
Nancy grins lopsidedly. “And Robin?”
Steve snorts. “Purely platonic, I promise. Neither of us want anything else with each other.”
Nancy looks at him then. Studies him. “You’ve been through some shit,” she decides. “But you look happy.”
He smiles. “I am, for the most part. I know who I am.”
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findmeinasunshower · 1 year
Text
𝑩𝒐𝒘𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔: 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕 𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓
word-count: 2k
summary: Mr. Scamander introduces you to his bowtruckle...and he may or may not be falling for you as he does.
warnings: none :)
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“You have a bowtruckle in your pocket.”
Newt halts in his fiddling with the locks on his case and looks up at you through the wispy, caramel hair that’s constantly obscuring his eyes from your view. You’re perched on one of Tina and Queenie’s dining room chairs. Jacob carried it into the living room for you earlier when you all first arrived. Newt had offered you his seat on the well-worn, but plush lounge, but you had refused, stating that you can handle having a conversation without a cushion, thank you very much. 
Your legs are crossed daintily at the ankles, and you lean forward as you consider Newt. Or, more specifically, Pickett, who has clambered up his shoulder to huddle shyly behind his neck. Only the creature’s eyes and the sprig on top of his head can be seen, and you smile sweetly when you make eye contact. Newt blinks at the way your perfectly curled hair flutters around your eyes like curtains in the breeze when you move. He can tell you’re curious, and realizes that you’ve never seen a bowtruckle before. The corner of his mouth turns up fondly at the thought.
“That I do,” he responds, shifting in his crouch as he finishes locking up his case.
“Why?”
Newt finds himself blinking once again at the bluntness of your question, and he tilts his head up to look at you fully. Your gaze meets his inquisitively, and he’s quick to look back down before you can see the blush spreading across his cheeks. He rolls out of his crouch with a small sigh until he’s sitting on the ground with his back against the lounge, legs spread out in front of him. “Well,” he starts, “I keep bowtruckles in my case, but Pickett has what Queenie calls ‘attachment issues.’”
You raise your eyebrows and an amused smile creeps across your face. “Attachment issues,” you repeat, encouraging him to elaborate.
Newt backtracks, eyes flicking to the ceiling as he thinks of a way to explain. He holds his hand up in front of his shoulder, encouraging Pickett to wrap his spindly limbs around his thumb and pull himself up. Once his little friend is standing comfortably on his palm, Newt runs a gentle finger over the sprout at the top of his head. “He doesn’t like his tree,” he clarifies simply.
You chuckle softly and lean forward out of your chair to get a closer look. “But aren’t bowtruckles guardians of their trees?” you ask. A pleased warmth spreads through Link’s chest at your knowledge of one of his creatures. You laugh again when he nods in confirmation. “Why doesn’t he like his tree?”
“He says the other bowtruckles bully him.” Newt shifts to cradle Pickett in both of his hands and sits up, crossing his legs. He regards you with a small smirk, green eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I have a suspicion that he’s actually just sensitive.” He whispers the last part as if it’s a secret, making you giggle and Pickett whirl around to glare adorably at his keeper. 
Newt frowns right back down at him. “What?” he asks incredulously. “You and I both know it’s true.” You’re absolutely delighted when the bowtruckle blows a raspberry, and Newt rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Again, that behavior is so beneath you, Pickett.”
You snicker and slide off of the dining chair and to the floor so you’re sitting next to Newt on one hip, with both of your legs folded on top of each other. The magizoologist flushes bright red from the tips of his ears to his chest when you settle next to him, despite you maintaining a respectable distance between the two of you. He’s glad you’re too occupied with mesmerizing Pickett to notice his current state—The little creature had shied away from you when you first moved closer, but now he’s watching in fascination as you conjure flowers about the size of the pads of Newt’s fingers out of the tip of your wand. Pickett watches them all the way as they shoot up to the ceiling only to gently float back down to the floor. 
“So,” You shoot a baby blue flower across the room, causing Pickett to reel around in search of it, “Does that make you Pickett’s tree?”
Newt whips his head around to look at you with wide, green eyes. “What?” he splutters. You grin at his reaction and unthinkingly magick an array of tiny, yellow flowers to rain around Pickett. The soft petals tickle Newt’s hands when the flowers land in them, and he finds he quite likes the feeling.
“Like I said,” you continue, “bowtruckles live to guard their trees. And if Pickett is always with you…” You fix him with a teasing smile underneath your lashes, “...that makes you his tree.”
Newt gapes at you, jaw moving up and down as he tries in vain to come up with something to respond with. What does one say when a beautiful acquaintance compares you to a tree? He swallows to clear his dry mouth and mumbles: “I suppose it does.”
Your lips spread into a wide smile and you snicker giddily at the baffled expression on the magizoologist’s face. At this point, Pickett has clambered up the lapels of Newt’s white collared shirt so he’s perched on his collarbone. And while you look back at the creature, Newt finds it impossible for him to tear his gaze from you. You twirl your fingers in a “hello” to Pickett, and if his heart wasn’t already melting at that small movement, the way your nose crinkles when you smile warms him completely. Newt’s mouth twitches up once again, and this time a glint of his teeth shines through his smile. 
A breathy laugh escapes from his lips when you raise your wand and resume your flower shower. You look back at him at the sound, smile dropping slightly when you see the way Mr. Scamander is looking at you.
You’ve only known him for a couple of days, but from what you’ve seen, he’s never held a significant amount of eye contact with anyone. He tends to keep his head bowed, raising his eyes only for certain amounts of necessary eye contact. This close, you can see flecks of golden-brown hidden in his forest green eyes, like the first hints of autumn that appear in September. You find yourself searching for every last one of the beautiful imperfections while he maintains stunned eye contact with you. You get to see up close as his eyes soften, beholding you as if for the first time.
Newt’s eyes flick down to your lips briefly before raising back up to yours, and your cheeks flame at the minuscule gesture. You look down at your lap in an attempt to hide your flaming cheeks and notice Newt doing the same out of the corner of your eye. 
“Miss (l/n)?” Newt’s quiet, husky voice penetrates your being, and you stop tapping your knee nervously. You look back up at him through your lashes to let him know you heard him and his eyes falter from his own lap to your eyes and then back again before he smiles bashfully. “Would you like to meet the rest of my creatures?”
A soft, but still shy smile spreads across your face. “I would love to.”
A full-on grin breaks across Newt’s face and he scrambles to his feet, gently guiding Pickett up until he’s perched on his shoulder. Then, he holds out a hand to you, and you smile as you allow him to pull you to your feet. Neither of you are quick to let go of the other’s hand, and you find you quite like the feel of his worked, calloused fingers in yours.
Newt’s the one who lets go first, but it’s only to reach down and flick the locks of his battered case back open. You watch as he pries it open and lets the top end fall to the floor with a thump. He stands back up to his full height and huffs out a breath and you look at him curiously when you feel him look back at you with a subtle smile. “Ready?” he asks.
Your heart flutters, and you feel like the sudden lightness in your chest has the power to lift you off the ground. “Ready.”
~*~
Jacob steps over the Goldstein’s threshold with a relieved groan and holds the door open for Queenie. He scans the living room tiredly, and what he sees has him suddenly much more awake. His jaw drops slightly, but he schools himself enough to say, “Um…Queen?”
“Hm?” Queenie bounces clumsily into the flat after him. She catches Jacob’s shoulder to stop herself from tripping over her own two feet, and her blue eyes widen as she takes in the living room. “Oh, dear.”
“‘Oh dear?’” Jacob parrots, closing the door behind his girlfriend. “What the hell happened in here?” When the two of them and Tina had left two hours before, the Goldstein’s living room was meticulously clean, thanks to the elder of the two sisters. Now, it looks like a meadow exploded. What seems like thousands of flowers lay scattered across the carpet and the furniture, most of them concentrated around Newt’s closed case in the middle of the floor.
Queenie’s careful as she walks further into the room, for some reason doing her best not to step on the tiny blossoms. “We’re lucky Teeny got called in,” she chimes. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy to see this.” She snorts softly and then giggles, returning to her examination of the sitting room-turned-field. “I just don’t know why either of ‘em woulda done it.”
Jacob turns around in a slow circle, face still scrunched up comically. “Where the hell are they?”
Queenie squints when she frowns. “I don’t know.” Her eyes flick down to Newt’s case laying inconspicuously in the middle of the carpet. She grins toothily and hums at her epiphany before scurrying over to the case and kneeling in its surrounding flowers. 
“Don’t tell Newt I did this,” she whispers as she points her wand at the case and mutters, “Alohomora.” The locks flip open with a satisfying click, and Jacob walks over to join Queenie in peering down into Newt’s garden shed.
Queenie then proceeds to tip the entire top half of her body over the side of the case so her torso is dangling over the edge and into the other world.
Jacob splutters and grabs hold of the back of her calves just as she starts to slide. “Jesus, Queen, what’re you doin’?” he hisses, keeping his voice down in case Newt is close to the shed.
“Whoops!” is the only explanation she gives. Jacob sighs tiredly.
“There are a lot easier ways to do this, you know. Like climbing down the ladder.”
Queenie ignores him and turns her head to the side, blonde curls swishing into her face as she does. She blows harshly to get them to fall back out of her eyes before stilling once again, blue eyes flicking around the shed as she searches the thoughts of the different creatures in Newt’s tiny world. 
It doesn’t take her long to find the two of you, but one, simple word reigns supreme:
Pretty.
Queenie smiles as the warm feeling you and Newt are taken with fills her up like a balloon. She swings herself back up into the apartment, and Jacob rips his hands off of her legs to avoid being sat on. Yours and Newt’s thoughts die down until all she can feel is Jacob’s confusion and Mrs. Esposito’s frustration because apparently Janey downstairs brought another boy in without permission.
Jacob frowns when he sees the way Queenie is smiling. “What?” he asks. She huffs and shrugs, still smiling, and Jacob raises his eyebrows at her slightly-crazed state. Her bob is now more of a frizzy pom-pom look and she’s practically twitching with excitement as what she just felt whips through her head like a summer storm.
“We best not bother those two for a while,” is her only explanation.
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genericpuff · 2 months
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Can you call Tina Belcher driving through a parking lot at an anxious snail's pace a driving "style"? So why do we try to use "style" as a defense for LO's pacing problems?
There's something about how Lore Olympus engrosses people within its weekly doses of H x P content and cliffhangers that makes people not realize just how long Lore Olympus takes to get to the point of, well, anything. Many plotlines are setup, and then go untouched for weeks, sometimes months at a time, before seeing any sort of progress, much less a resolution. In this, I'm going to actually give you time ranges on some of the more egregious payoffs and continuations of plotlines that were setup - some that are now resolved, others that have yet to see the light of day.
CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing the SA plotline, and there will be spoilers for Episode 265. I will also be showing pictures of some rancid ass tattoos, I know that sounds random for what we're discussing, but trust me on this one, I have a point to make. Also there's a Junji Ito panel from The Enigma of Amigara Fault... yeah, that one.
LEUCE
Let's start with an easy one that's not exactly tied to the main plot. The Leuce plotline. She was first introduced in Episode 201 as a 'bargaining chip' from Zeus to Hades, in a misfired attempt to get Hades to call a truce over the embargo between the Underworld and Olympus.
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At the time of this episode's release, by all accounts this seemed to be a cut and dry reference to Hades' first wife, Leuce, unfortunately reduced to a mail-order bride who Hades, of course, turns down, because he doesn't want the "I can't believe it's not butter" Persephone, he wants overpriced, tastes-the-same-but-costs-more-because-of-the-brand-name Persephone.
But then she came back, 36 episodes later - in real time, this was roughly 38 weeks for free-to-read users as the series went on a 2 week hiatus near the start of S3 - only to be used as a cliffhanger leading into a recycled Minthe plotline, in which she attempted to seduce Hades in Episode 238, only to be shot down for the second time.
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If you're having a tough time wrapping your head around how long 36 weeks really is, that's nine months. If you got pregnant when Leuce was first revealed, you'd be entering the final window of pregnancy by the time she returned, assuming the baby didn't come pre-term.
Another 7 weeks later, enough time to actually get pregnant again following that first baby, we got the sudden continuation of that plot, with Persephone invading her home and filling it with barn animals, with a not-so-subtle threat to Leuce to stay away from her husband.
"But what about the text messages? Were they really from Hades?" Well, if you were someone reading this comic in real time, you wouldn't have this question answered for another SIX EPISODES - that's a month and a half in real time - and the answer would ultimately be "she made it up, she was 'manifesting', none of it's real, they should call her Deleuceional!" Six weeks for a nothingburger answer to wrap up a nothingburger sideplot, all in the pursuit to 'prove' for the 1275903729 time that Hades and Persephone are truly meant to be together.
EROS AND PSYCHE
This is a big one. The Eros x Psyche plotline was one of the most popular romance subplots, second only to Hades and Persephone, throughout the comic. And yet, despite people holding their breath to see what would become of the star-crossed lovers, a mortal and a god-
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-readers in September 2021 would not find out how their recent skirmish with Apollo in Episode 171 would resolve itself until Episode 218, A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS - ROUGHLY 60 WEEKS AND A MIDSEASON HIATUS - LATER, and even then it would only show us Eros, who quickly summarizes what happened to him during the entire trial and Kronos arc that his anticipated romance storyline got sidelined for - he got married and now he has a child.
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And it wouldn't be for ANOTHER six weeks that his wife and the mother of his child would actually show up, not alongside Eros, but Aphrodite and Hephaestus, in Episode 224.
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What happened to her after finally having her 'true form' revealed to Eros? Well, that's not shown for another three weeks in Episode 227. During this a bunch of info about how Psyche got out of that sticky Apollo situation is dumped on us and we just have to go along with it as she becomes a goddess, not because she earned a place among the Olympians, but because Zeus needs her to spy on Apollo, which was actually shown one episode prior in 226.
So let's say you got knocked up again after that Leuce baby, when Eros and Psyche were shot out of the sky. Welp, in the time it took for Rachel to get around explaining what happened to the both of them, now you just had your second baby and for all we know, you could have gone for a third and already be well into or near the end of your first trimester, if you really wanted to get busy. You'd have a Dionysus, a Melinoe, and maybe even a Demophoon. Congratulations.
And speaking of Melinoe-
MELINOE
Turns out the interloper and the child in Tartarus were one and the same, or at least that's what I'm assuming, because otherwise that would mean there's some whole ass other baby to worry about that we haven't even been introduced to yet.
Melinoe, or "the child deity", was first established in Episode 218.
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But as per LO tradition, the child would only mentioned in passing every now and then until finally being revealed as Melinoe in Episode 252, a whopping... THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING WEEKS LATER.
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And that waiting is still ongoing as Melinoe is, of course, still trapped in Tartarus, with no end in sight. Since then, Hades and Persephone have gotten married, kidnapped a child, Persephone has terrorized a nymph and caused yet ANOTHER genocide, and they've resurrected a child that was suddenly revealed to be Demeter's. Thirty eight weeks and counting of dragging on a plotline that we're supposed to believe is dire while the characters do sweet fuck all.
What was the name of that other dream baby that Rachel referenced from some obscure non-legitimate source?
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Riiiight, Brimos. Congrats, there's pregnancy number 4. But can we find a way to make a fifth happen?
KASSANDRA
We're first introduced to Kassandra, another implied victim of Apollo's, in Episode 226 when a photo of her is found on Apollo's pen drive which was conveniently left on the ground for Psyche to swipe.
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In Episode 227, they theorize on how they could track down this mystery woman, using either Eros or Aphrodite's abilities to find her through the power of
✨love✨
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How will that actually work though? Has anyone ever been in love with Kassandra, or has she ever been in love with anyone else?
Any bets on how long it would be until we'd get our answer?
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Episode 251. The same episode where we're finally told about Leuce's delusions, we suddenly skip to the reveal of Kassandra being Apollo's personal oracle.
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And it still doesn't end up answering our question as to how Kassandra was tracked down, by the way. Eros and Psyche sorta just conveniently find her at the same time Apollo happens to be there when he's getting her to deliver her big prophecy to him.
That's twenty four weeks, meaning you're now near the end of your second trimester with child #4. Whoever the child is remains to be seen but I'm sure Rachel will find a way to shoehorn another helpless baby into the plot for Hades and Persephone to rescue who we can use for this metaphor.
But none of these come close to the greatest unresolved plotline of them all, the one plotline that has outlasted even the main H x P plotline of Lore Olympus' story-
APOLLO
Or more specifically, the SA. Rachel has tried so hard to twist Apollo into a villain of Disney proportions, through his sudden involvement with Ouranos, while also using him as a mouthpiece for her own critics by having him literally dish out word-for-word the criticisms that have been made towards Rachel's writing of Persephone-
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But the core foundation of his plotline goes all the way back to 2018, when he assaulted Persephone, a plotline that has yet to resolve itself or show any progression beyond Rachel's half-baked attempts at speedrunning Persephone's healing process, while Apollo is still at large and hasn't been brought to justice.
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We've seen her in very poorly-written therapy where her assault was addressed once. We've seen her grapple with the potential consequences of the SA through a gynecologist scene that, as I've discussed before, does more harm than good in helping the discussion around women's sexual health. And of course, Rachel will pepper in vague references to the SA every now and then when she's bothered to remember that it's a plotline she wrote and still hasn't resolved:
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And judging by how the story has been progressing, Rachel seems far more intent on simply using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism and a puppet for Ouranos rather than focusing on the bigger issues, all while Persephone has helped more people cope with the assault that happened to her rather than receiving help herself.
What's really telling is that despite half of the Olympians at this point knowing what Apollo did, not one of them even tries to convince Persephone to come forward, or say something themselves. Daphne has more than enough reason to come forward. Artemis, Hera, Eros, Hermes, and Hephaestus all know what he did, and yet none of them say a thing, even when those of them who haven't been conveniently shoehorned out of the plot are still in the same room as him-
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The assault scene happened in August 2018. It's been five and a half years since it was established, and while there have been small efforts made to resolve it - from Hera and Hephaestus having the photos deleted to Persephone seeking therapy - there's less reason now than ever for it to not be addressed, especially with so much at stake. I could side with Persephone not wanting to say anything in the beginning, when he was blackmailing her with the photos and her TGOEM scholarship was on the line, but now that she's a Queen, rich, and married to Hades, living in the Underworld where he can't get to her, without any schooling or scholarship or job to worry about or the photos hanging over her head, it comes across as flat out irresponsible that not a single person thinks it's worth mentioning. Even the narrative itself seems to be trying to undo the SA entirely.
At this point, I'm not confident it will be mentioned at all, and that Apollo will be conveniently dealt with as a pawn of Ouranos rather than as a perpetrator of violence towards women.
A FINAL ANALYSIS OF LO'S PACING
There are certainly far more examples of this weekly edging happening throughout LO, but I hope the ones I provided get across the point I'm trying to make about its pacing.
Of course, none of these gaps in time are happening back-to-back-to-back. This is Lore Olympus' writing "style", if you can call it that - constantly bombard the reader with separate plot points so that they'll either not remember the ones that were left behind, or so that Rachel can buy herself time to get herself out of the corner she wrote herself into. It's the equivalent of clickbait, constantly grabbing your attention with shiny new things that will replace whatever you just saw in your brain, on a constantly repeating cycle. It's the writing process of inexperienced amateurs, like what you'd see in short stories written by fifth graders - "and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened", with no theme or overarching meaning tying them together; and if you were to ask them why a certain thing happens, especially if it logically doesn't make sense, the answer is just, "well, because it does." There's no rhyme or reason, they just thought it was cool.
And I say "style" because while fans of LO have definitely defended the story's pacing as just a writing style, the actual execution of what they're implying is painful to watch and not what any experienced writer would call a legitimate style. It's not uncommon at all in long-running series like this to jump from plotline to plotline, often times longform stories like these have to balance multiple side plots at once to keep things engaging and to bulk up the plot with more actual content.
But in most cases, the reader will expect the speed of a plot's resolution to be relative to its urgency. If a casual B plot with low stakes is introduced, it's not necessarily doing any harm if it just sits there for a bit before finally being resolved. After all, it's low stakes and no one is being hurt by it existing on the sidelines. It might feel a bit like pointless fluff, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with fluff and it can offer fun and relaxed reprieves from the overarching narrative, assuming you integrate them well so they're not drawing attention away from those more urgent plotlines at the worst possible times (looking at you, Stranger Things S2 Episode 7-)
But when even the high stakes plots are being hung out to dry and treated like distractions and fluff, it comes across less like a decisive writing "style" and more just directionless pantsing from an inexperienced writer who's gotten themselves in way too deep.
And that's what really separates Rachel's writing problems from "style". Style is decisive. Style is the act of referencing over a set period of time, crafting what you like and what you've learned into something new, with rounds and rounds of fine-tuning. Style is experience put into action.
And, while I don't typically like using my own work as a comparison, LORE | REKINDLED is meant to try and recapture the original magic of Lore Olympus' art style and writing foundations - and even then, you can still see the clear difference between Episodes 14 and 44, which use the same panel from the same scene, but look vastly different due to the improvement and refinement that's happened over time.
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Same style, but different levels of experience and skill, which is to be expected after weeks and weeks of fine-tuning and deliberate practice.
If you're lacking in your fundamentals, whether in art or writing, you can't equate that lack of skill to "style" because you're not choosing to be inexperienced, you just are. And that's okay! But to try and pass it off as 'style' implies that you're choosing to be inexperienced - when in reality, if you tried to put out anything beyond your skill level, you simply wouldn't be able to, because you haven't gained those skills yet. Like fifth graders writing short stories with the "and then this happened" model, "it's just my style" is often used as an excuse by young artists and writers who don't understand that style is not exclusively an end result of inexperience.
I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but there's this controversial but trendy style in tattooing called 'ignorant', and it's best defined as "tattooing badly on purpose".
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These tattoos are regularly praised for their simplistic ingenuity and visual aesthetic but equally criticized for being the opposite of what many artists have worked to overcome - being "bad at art". After all, who would willingly pay for a bad-looking tattoo? It's because it's the style that's in demand. I would argue that it takes a lot of confidence and mastery of the craft to be purposefully bad at it and make it look good, as contradictory as that sounds.
As much as the lines may be wobbly and the anatomy poor, ignorant style tattoos are done purposefully by experienced artists who still know how to properly tattoo. As much as they may look like they were drawn by a middle schooler, they will still heal properly, the lines will hold up, and the client will not (or at least, should not) experience any excessive scarring or unhygienic practices as one would experience from an actual inexperienced artist-
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In a genuinely poorly-done tattoo, the evidence of the inexperience is literally written all over the body. The skin swells, the ink bleeds out, the lines are inconsistent in their depth, and there's clear signs of trauma to the skin that will undoubtedly result in a poorly-healed tattoo (and that's not even getting into the larger health risks such as contracting blood diseases due to a poorly kept space). It's not hard to see the difference between a bad tattoo and a tattoo that's intentionally bad.
It's the age old saying in a different medium - only once you learn the rules can you properly break them.
Rachel never learned these rules in her writing and it's evident to anyone who knows these rules and is viewing LO through a critical lens - or in my case, experiencing it on a week to week basis. It's a regularly occurring problem in the medium of webcomics as a whole - thinking that knowing how to draw is enough, and that writing comes dead last, if at all. When in reality, comics are a marriage of art and writing, you can't simply do one really well and allow the other to drag behind. That's not to say there aren't comics that succeed at having bad art and good writing, if anything a well-written comic can save bad art-
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But if you have a comic with good art and bad writing, that's when a comic opens itself up to harsher criticism. As much as art may be the visual forefront of comics, if you want to keep your audience along for the long road that stretches ahead, you need to have a strong foundation in writing, or at least, enough of a plan to ensure you're not driving in the dark. The art can be as gorgeous as you want it to be, but if the plot is weak, then no one will have any reason to check back in week to week.
And such is Lore Olympus' biggest weakness. Much of what we praise LO for back in its first season was simply its foundation. It's very easy to praise a story's writing when it hasn't had to payoff what it's setup. Having ideas is easy, and early LO is rife with good ideas - but many of those ideas have since fallen flat, even the ones you wouldn't expect.
Ideas are a dime a dozen, but actually executing them in a way that can be engaging from start to finish and resolve itself in a way that's satisfying is a whole other challenge that many creators, including Rachel, find themselves unable to tackle; and nothing is a greater example of that than LO's third season, which is now fumbling its plotlines that have failed to resolve themselves properly after 5 years, while introducing new ones that serve as mere distractions, as if they were a laser pointer aimed at a cat.
I hear the argument, "LO is a better story if you binge read it" a lot, which - while I can certainly understand in today's culture of content that's churned out to be binged - I still fail to see how it actually makes LO a better story. Binge-reading LO doesn't remove the pointless plotlines. It doesn't fix its blatant timeline problems, its retcons, or its inability to stay focused on one topic for more than 5 panels. All it really fixes is the waiting, the ritualistic toiling over each and every cliffhanger that caps off the weekly episodes just for them to either be resolved in the next week or left behind with no in-between. And while having all that waiting removed certainly makes the reading experience a lot smoother, it doesn't make the story or its writing better.
The relationship between a story's writing and how the audience experiences it shouldn't be overlooked. Many stories depend on how the audience experiences it within the mind to succeed and leave an impression.
Junji Ito utilizes the dreaded page turn to scare his audience, an effect that can only be truly gained and appreciated if you read his books in traditional print.
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Marvel spent years meticulously building up its Avengers franchise, culminating in a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic event through Avengers: Endgame, which is truly the epitome of "you had to be there", because if you watch Avengers: Endgame in 2024 in your living room, you're likely not going to experience the same level of hype as audiences experiencing it in the theater in 2019.
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The same can be said for James' Cameron's Avatar, which entranced audiences with its innovative motion capture CGI and immersive 3D effects, an experience that could only be lived to the fullest if you saw it in 3D in IMAX theaters back in 2009. Without that experience, most people in 2024 find the movie to be pretty generic and uninteresting, a reverse Pocahontas with blue people in space, but when it first released in IMAX theaters in 2009, it was a cultural and technological phenomenon due to how advanced it was in its VFX. I can't even share with you clips of it, because obviously it would just be proving my point to try and show you how groundbreaking Avatar was in theaters through a bad shaky cam Youtube upload of its IMAX release on Youtube, but let's just say that it wasn't uncommon for people to brag about how many times they'd gone back to watch the same movie just to feel what they felt from the first showing all over again.
All that's to say that while Lore Olympus may offer a 'better' reading experience when binge-read - regardless of whether or not it actually helps the story's pacing problems - the reality is that LO is still being written exclusively with the weekly format in mind, and its been very much to its detriment, both in the short-term and in the long-term. Readers are often left in the dark on plotlines for weeks at a time, Rachel loses track of what she has and hasn't addressed, and the extended waiting times trick readers into believing that weeks have passed in the comic's story, when in reality it's only been a day or two, sometimes as little as hours depending on the sequence; meanwhile, if you binge episodes that had those problems in hindsight, you'll likely be a lot more quick to notice how many plot beats are either retconned or abandoned entirely, because you don't have the weekly waiting times artificially inflating the pacing of the story and causing you to forget what was established weeks before, because when binged, those weeks are reduced to hours and minutes.
And worst of all, with the assumption that you're reading on a weekly basis - as it wants you to do - Rachel tries to pull clever stunts by matching up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays, which often just makes the story beats feel rushed or random in their execution - because to the vast majority of readers who haven't caught on to this or are reading the episodes through the physical books, they are rushed and random, and they can't exactly explain why.
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Binging these episodes doesn't solve the problem, if anything it exemplifies them because, as a shining example, Hades and Persephone suddenly get married right in the middle of an ongoing issue, which isn't exactly the best time to wrap up the story's main plotline. Since then readers have become less and less interested in their story, and can you blame them? By all accounts their story is over. Everything now just feels tacked on to give them something to do in a story they no longer fit into.
There's an episode behind the FastPass lock right now, Episode 265. It unlocks for free on February 17th, three days after Valentine's Day. Guess what episode it is?
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Ah yes, the episode where Hades' initiates sex without consent with his wife who's suffering from panic attacks, who also happens to be a rape victim. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.
I actually made this particular discovery while writing this essay, so that was a very unwelcome surprise, but it explains the sudden random shift from Persephone being so stressed over the ongoing situation that she's passed out to Hades just deciding for the both of them that now's the time to have sex. As much as the fans will defend this as a husband and wife's last chance at intimacy before diving into a dangerous situation, they'll also still conveniently forget - just like the narrative and Rachel herself - that Persephone is a rape victim, and Hades initiating sex with her after nearly having a panic attack isn't exactly a good look.
This is why our theories as to when LO ends are so firmly cemented in one specific time range, because the story's pacing and distractions seem only intent in one thing - getting the story to last until spring, when the series will most likely conclude. It's basically been all but confirmed by Rachel, from her stating the series would be ending in early 2024, to Inklore - an imprint that seems designed specifically for Rachel and LO - launching officially in spring of this year, undoubtedly just in time for Rachel to wrap up LO for good.
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(and boy, do I have some words about Inklore and its plans for "Rachel Smythe Presents", but that's another essay entirely.)
At the end of the day, LO's pacing is equivalent to paint drying on the wall, but it relentlessly convinces us to keep watching because the paint is blue and pink and maybe, maybe it'll turn into a piece of art. But as is evident in the comment sections of the newest episodes, even the fans are starting to realize that paint will not magically turn into the final piece of art they've been waiting to see if the hand that wields it doesn't know what it's doing.
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Though style may be gained as an accidental side effect of one's influences and experiences, what Lore Olympus' intent is remains to be seen, and the longer the story goes on, the blurrier whatever intent it could have becomes. Unless it somehow manages to pull off a twist of Attack on Titan proportions that thoroughly explains and ties together the plotlines that have been left in the rearview mirror, the vehicle that is LO will continue to trudge along at a snail's pace, until it inevitably either crosses the finish line or crashes - but by that point, anyone waiting for it could very well be gone, their good faith left behind at the starting line when there was still plenty of time to change its trajectory or stop.
Such a time is long, long gone.
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venusloverblue · 3 months
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Now I understand
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Billy Hargrove x Reader
words count: 766
summary: You and Billy are dating, but you have doubts as to why he was interested in you.
warnings: fluff, fluff and fluff
a/n: Hii everyone, I bring you another one shot of Billy. I must say I'm not a fan, in fact I don't think I like what I wrote, but I upload it anyway because I like to be embarrassed. If you see any grammatical errors, don't be afraid to tell me, it helps me with my English. With that I say byeee.
The wind blowing in through the open window of the Camaro hits you in the face, and in the background you hear a rock song from a band that your boyfriend listens to. You don’t talk to each other, but that doesn’t make the atmosphere uncomfortable, in fact, the silences between you usually feel comfortable.
“Babe, there’s a party tonight at Tina’s house, I’m going with the guys, do you want me to pick you up and we can go together?”
Dating Billy, one of the most popular boys, brings that on. There’s always a party at night at one of the popular guys’ house. Ever since he came to Hawkins he became a high school sensation, all the boys wanted his friendship and all the girls wanted to have him in their beds, that part you always tried to ignore for their sake.
You still didn’t know how you had gotten someone like Billy interested in someone like you, a girl who tried to go as unnoticed as possible. You were not interested in being popular, the only thing you wanted was to have good grades so you could go to a good college with a full scholarship, that way you would not generate more expenses to your parents than they already had.
That’s why you never expected the bad boy to look for you all over school looking for a date because he was curious about you, at first you thought it was some kind of joke that was going to leave you in a bad light, with that in mind you decided to deny him that date causing Billy to look for every possible way to get your attention so he could get a date with you. To the surprise of many, he succeeded and took you on a date where he impressed you with how gentlemanly he was and made you rethink your opinion of him.
After several dates, he proposed if you wanted to be his girlfriend in his blue Camaro under a starry night getting you to say yes to his question.
“Love, are you there?” Billy’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and brings you back to reality, where he asked you if you wanted to go to a party.
“Sorry, I was lost in my mind” You say to then answer the question he asked you at first. “I really don’t know Billy, next week I have a math test and you know I’m not very good at it.”
“I know, but this time you have to go to see me dethrone Harrigton from his throne.”
“Billy, you know how I feel about those things, they’re bullshit. Besides, I’ve already seen you dethrone Steve and the truth is that dragging you back to your car is not in my plans” With that the conversation ended because he had already parked at your house. You give him a kiss on the cheek and get out of the car, from his side there is no answer to your statement.
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It is night time and you are in your room studying for your exam, you are listening to the music of David Bowie, one of your favorite artists. While you are about to turn pages in your study book you hear something knocking on your window, at first you think it’s some bird that crashed into your window, but after listening to it three more times you decide to see what it really was.
When you open the window you can’t believe what greets you, it’s Billy with his big smile, in his hand you could see some stones, with them he was trying to get your attention. You instantly went downstairs to open the back door of the kitchen, he comes in with a flirtatious smile that always left your legs shaking.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Tina’s party to dethrone Steve” In your voice can be heard the surprise of finding him there at that moment.
“I planned to go, but with you. So here I am to have a fun night of study with my girl” He grabs your waist and brings his mouth to yours planting a kiss that causes the butterflies in your stomach to awaken.
At that moment you understood why Billy was interested in you, maybe others don’t understand it and it’s because they don’t feel it. When you kiss him the world around you disappears and you feel that Billy completes what you are missing. You assume he feels the same, so you keep kissing him.
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