#this happened because i wanted to try to write something worse than b&ed and had the epiphany that i could in fact write a sequel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astersatdawn · 1 year

Text

Nightmares Forged From Fractured Peridots

Relationship: Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All for One

Rating: Not Rated

Sensei | All for One is Midoriya Hisashi, Bad ending, Izuku has been vaulted, non-consensual (platonic) touch, non-consensual haircut, non-consensual Quirk use, referenced non-consensual drug use

Oneshot (Series) | 8.8k words

What a failure he was. Not able to stop All for One, not able to prevent his own arrest, not able to find his mother or the exit that would let them escape this labyrinth All for One used to trap them. Continuously running in useless circles of conversations with this demon in some desperate attempt to regain control.

All for One sought a fantasy and deemed all of Izuku’s dreams as illusions in parallel. Izuku hated the tiny part of himself that was scared that those hopes were as futile as All for One insisted they were.

[Or, another day, another failed escape attempt from All for One’s prison, and the consequences that come with Izuku’s failure.]

ao3 link: here

This is a sequel to Brimstone and Emerald Dreams (tumblr/ao3) but it is (probably) not necessary to read that fic before reading this one.

And just like that, it was over again.

He tripped, and then there was a hand wrapped around Izuku’s bicep—it was not a friendly gesture to keep him from falling, but a chain to drag him back to his cell.

“Izuku, what did I say about running in the halls?” All for One chided, maneuvering Izuku to face him as easily as manipulating putty in one’s hands. His other hand clamped onto his other bicep, keeping Izuku firmly in place, even though it was a paralyzing Quirk and not his grip that kept Izuku from running now. “You could get hurt.”

There were plenty of responses he could’ve said to that. He could’ve simply said that it’s too late for that. Izuku could point out the bruises from where his fists pounded against the walls, could point to the dried blood beneath his fingernails and the missing skin from his overly bitten lips. He could point to his own heart, rotting beneath his decaying ribs, or how his flesh sank inward despite how he fought for something more than a bone-brittle existence.

He could even scream about the thunderstorm in his chest, the one that rumbled whenever he was dragged to and fro on a whim, the one that raged when his father spoke of his mother’s treatment, the one that bristled with every patronizing word out of All for One’s mouth, spewing sugar-coated nonsense about the nuclear family he had shattered with his own two hands—how Izuku was always to be his parent’s child, an object to be smothered like he’s nine rather than sixteen.

Assuming he was still sixteen.

He might be older, he didn’t know. Time is knowledge, and All for One, knowing Izuku is one to protectively cradle every detail close to his chest, would withhold far more than he ever gave, but still led him on with something like the possibility of answers, knowing Izuku would hang off his every word if it meant Izuku could gather one of those sparse fragments.

And All for One had given some answers at first. Not many. Some already known, others new, everything chosen with a meticulousness perfected by time. He’d kept Izuku in stasis as he carried his freshly woken body outside and walked around the barren streets of a city Izuku could not name—the only signs it had been a city once were the abandoned vehicles, the dilapidated storefronts with their half-burnt signs, and the charred scraps of bones and picked at skeletons.

“I want you to understand where home is now, Izuku. There’s nothing out there for you—nor is there anyone who would accept you as you are, not like me. So stay here. You need to do nothing more than that.”

Maybe everything out there was truly all ashes. Maybe there was nothing, or no one, left for them to find. It was hard to be worried about a what-if when anywhere was better than here—it’s why he had to believe there was something else left out there. A friend, a stranger. Anyone. News to uncover. A sanctuary for two tucked away out of All for One’s sight. A desperation for a better life that kept Izuku running no matter how many times All for One insisted there was nothing better left. The world could not be lost, and their world could not be contained to just this place.

He wouldn’t let the carefully selected scenery erase his dreams of hope, wouldn’t fall into the trap that was the logic of a megalomaniac man. Giving up on his wishes meant more than giving up on himself. He had to keep trying for the sake of his mother and whoever else still lived and fought another day in All for One’s Japan.

So the statement “you could get hurt” was the most redundant thing Izuku had heard since he was brought here. It was far too late. Izuku was bruised and bleeding and holding on by the skin of his teeth.

Telling All for One that truth was out of the question.

But with the way Izuku was held, unable to move anything but his facial muscles, he knew a response was necessary.

“I know.”

“If you know, then you shouldn’t do it.” All for One sighed. “You’d get hurt less if you just listened to me, Izuku.”

Izuku held back a scoff. It’s obvious All for One wasn’t just referring to running in the halls, or any other prior admonishment for something treated like a childish antic. Ever since Izuku woke up here All for One played up the loving, concerned father as if that’s all it ever was. While he was not wrapped in layers of chains like he had been before, the thinness of his wrists, irregular doses of drugs that kept him even weaker, and the thick walls of the vault did nothing but remind Izuku that, as welcome as he was to be here, this was a prison and not a home, and this place had hurt his family more than enough.

All for One had implied that obedience—that giving up—would change Izuku’s situation. Claimed that Izuku giving in to every one of All for One’s demands to act as the adoring son would make his quality of life improve, that he would get everything he wanted and that he’d never be in pain again. But Izuku knew better. If he agreed to that he may as well consider himself more corpse than man, for the heart that beat within his chest would no longer be his own.

If getting more hurt would get him out of here, he would continue to accept that over succumbing to a bleak existence.

Listening to All for One was not an option—it didn’t matter how frayed the rope Izuku clung to was, all that mattered was getting his mother out, and making sure enough of himself was left to go with her. Letting go—giving up—meant the end.

He couldn’t give a half-hearted shrug in response, shoulders frozen as they were. Instead, all he did was mumble a quiet “I know.”

“No, you don’t. If you did know that we wouldn’t be here.” All for One’s hands squeezed his arms. “You’re making things far more difficult than they need to be.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how to say anything else?”

“Nothing that I want to tell you, and nothing that you’d listen to.”

All for One sighed. “You’re proving my point. I’m not your enemy, Izuku. I’m your father—you can trust me.”

“Sure I can,” Izuku muttered, bitterness laced more heavily into his tone than it had been before.

“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head. All for One was silent for a long moment. Then he lifted a hand and his fingers were running through Izuku’s hair, curls falling past his chin. “I suppose that can come later. You’re overdue for a haircut.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s getting tangled.” All for One tugged on a small tangle to prove his point. “If you’re not going to take care of your hair, you shouldn’t let it get this long.”

Izuku bristled. It’s not like Izuku purposely let it get this unkempt—outside of Izuku’s rebellions, all decisions that should be his were instead ripped away from him. His schedule, from when he ate to when he bathed, were not his to decide. His clothes and appearance were not his to decide. Any tool, be it a comb or a toothbrush, were quickly classified as something Izuku would try and use to help his escape, and thus kept from him. With that structure, Izuku’s only means of managing his hair was with his fingers.

“I can take care of it.”

“Clearly not, you’re doing a poor job of it.” All for One ruffled his hair, making it messier than it already was, further empathizing just how much control he exhibited over Izuku’s every choice, or lack thereof. “Come on, let’s get that taken care of.”

Without warning, All for One adjusted his arms and lifted Izuku up.

“I can walk,” Izuku spat out, unable to kick his way out of the hold.

“You can, but you don’t need to. I can take care of you.” All for One squeezed Izuku like it was supposed to be a comforting touch. “And considering your display just now, I know you’re not interested in taking a walk.”

“I’ll walk,” Izuku insisted between gritted teeth.

“And I’ll carry you. I want to take care of you, my little prince.” All for One ran his fingers through Izuku’s hair, passing by the knots that had formed since Izuku’s last struggle to pull them apart, and tilted Izuku’s head towards his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I have too much lost time to make up for.”

Time Izuku would rather spend away from him, but he knew saying that would make All for One more unbearable than he already was. Every touch kept his hairs standing on end, the stone in his stomach sinking deeper than it already was. Already, Izuku was sick of it, and it had only been a few minutes. Every disagreement seemed to increase All for One’s clinginess, and considering Izuku had an unwanted haircut coming up, Izuku knew he was nearing his limit of coddling before he said something that would get him a worse punishment than usual. He couldn’t risk losing too many windows of opportunity, not when they were already so limited.

Tartarus had been a kinder place to him if only because it kept him out of All for One’s clutches for a while, even if that proved to not be enough—how long had it been since Izuku first found himself in captivity, struggling and failing to get free and do what needed to be done?

It continued like that for the next few minutes: Izuku, stuck stiff in All for One’s arms, fingers in his hair, silent and stewing in his resentments while All for One acted all merry. They didn’t go to Izuku’s cell, but a hallway not far from it, that Izuku had already inspected through a mixture of his escape attempts and All for One dragging him around.

Their destination was a small multi-purpose room, shelves stocked with miscellaneous items ranging from hair care products to silverware. On the opposite wall of the door there was a sink, and above it, a mirror that captured the both of them: Izuku, glaring off into the distance, eyebags and pale skin illuminated by sickly lights, matted hair curling just beneath his chin, held tight like a trophy to All for One’s chest, who smiled not with that of deranged madman’s, but with something almost peaceful.

Izuku would not be surprised if, before, this room had been a torture chamber, considering the centerpiece was a chair with multiple leather straps hanging off of it, which was right next to a miniature surgical table that already had a pair of scissors and a brush on top; even if it hadn’t been, he certainly felt tortured every time he was brought in here like this.

All for One gently set him down in the chair, and began to restrain Izuku. It was done with a practiced hand, one hand deftly tightening straps and buckles around Izuku’s arms, legs, and chest, while the other was still somewhere on Izuku—his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his head—to keep the paralysis Quirk in use.

When he was done he ruffled Izuku’s hair and let him go. The second Izuku felt his limbs were his own again he tugged at his restraints, pulling up and forward and squirming no more than an inch.

“It’s cute that you still think you can escape,” All for One cooed. Izuku felt the brush run through his hair, tugging and pulling with rapid strokes.“You’re not leaving unless I let you, Izuku.”

“I literally just got out without you letting me.”

“No, you didn’t. You left your room, but you didn’t leave.” A yank. A few strokes more, each growing more gentle than the last, before it stopped altogether. He heard All for One set the brush back down on the table before he walked over to the shelves, and picked up two bottles to compare. “And even if you found your way to the exit, I know you wouldn’t go, not without Inko.”

Izuku’s nails dug into his palm. He wished it wasn’t so obvious, if only if it meant Izuku knew something All for One didn’t. She had to be in this building, All for One had implied as much, and even if it was a lie, Izuku couldn’t take the risk of leaving her behind in this sort of place. Her presence was another cord for All for One to pull, but also a reward to give if Izuku submitted enough for All for One to attempt recreating the sham of a family he so desperately wanted.

And he had seen her, more than once, since that condition became clear.

Part of him hated that fact. He had fallen so far that he’d been seen as compliant, and yet, seeing his mother reignited him more than memory ever would. It was hard for those dinners not to, seeing the wariness in her darting eyes, her gentle voice gone mouse-quiet and fragile, resignation a heavy mantle on her shoulders, as playing her part meant she could see Izuku again. The truth of the matter was, as much as she was tether and treat for him, so too was he treat and tether for her.

Every minute, every word, and every touch, was just another opportunity for both of them to break, and compliance meant falling apart faster—Izuku could only hope that his choice to keep fighting would give her the strength to not give up all the hope she had left.

“...Where is she?”

All for One settled on one of the bottles and grabbed a towel before heading back towards Izuku’s side.

“Do you really think I’m going to tell you that?” The towel flapped out of sight before All for One tucked it around Izuku’s shoulders. “We just established her location is your goal with your escapades, Izuku.”

From somewhere behind him, he could hear the squeak of a faucet, and then the rush of water splashing against the bottom of the sink. It wasn’t a consistent stream, as he could hear the water shifting as All for One’s hands moved under the water.

“When will I see her?”

An amused huff. “You should know by now disobedient children don’t get what they want.”

“She’s my mother. If you’re going to discipline me then she should be involved.”

“And you don’t need to see her for her to be involved, Izuku. You should know parents discuss things without their children.” Abruptly the back of the chair was pulled down, and Izuku’s eyes shut as warm water fell onto his forehead. All for One’s hands were back in Izuku’s hair. Instinctively Izuku tried to pull his head away, only for All for One to drag his head down more firmly into the basin, before using the Quirk to keep Izuku still. “You seem quite desperate to make some sort of progress today. Any particular reason for that?”

The answer was a contradictory matter: there was a reason, in the same way there wasn’t one at all. A realization had struck him as he lay awake, waiting for the illusive mercy of sleep, that Izuku had no milestones to measure the length of his imprisonment. Izuku did not know when the last time he saw the sun or the stars was. He had no way to count the days, no concept of time—All for One made certain of that; the limited light in his cell never changed, and when his pacing and plotting became tiring Izuku tried to sleep with little way to distinguish between a minute and an hour. He had no clue how much time had passed between his imprisonment in Tartarus and the first day he woke up here—all he had was the memory of passing out in heavy chains in his tiny cell and waking up to the echoing chill of metal walls and the warm hand of a familiar-stranger Izuku never wanted to speak to again.

All he had were those questions that he gathered and guesswork swirling inside him and melding into a desperate voice that slithered through him. Pick up the pace, his heart had hammered. Every minute here is a minute too long, every minute spent is another you fail to save somebody else, his toes restlessly curled tighter. You’re not supposed to be this useless again, get out, get out, get out, and his guts would spill out between his fidgeting hands, as he uselessly stared at walls for hours and hours as if waiting for sleep or death or salvation despite knowing he was the only one able to fight for it.

Inaction built up every word, until the rambunctiousness of that inner voice had driven him to do something, anything, to get them one step closer to freedom, to find quiet in the adrenaline that guided him down labyrinthe halls, eager to find something more than fragmented hope.

And instead he failed again.

Now that voice was knocking, and despite the many ways All for One had to make Izuku’s body another prison, he could never capture his mind and silence a voice not even Izuku could quell.

“No,” Izuku replied, and it couldn’t even be considered a lie.

“Nothing at all?” All for One hummed. “There’s no shame in saying you simply miss your parents.”

“I only have a mother worth missing,” Izuku snapped before he could think.

The hands in Izuku’s hair froze. Nails dug into his scalp, and a thick glob of horror swelled in his throat.

He knew this would happen, had known coming into this room was a minefield ready to burst, and yet he walked right onto it anyway. There would be no simple, straight-forward punishment for this, Izuku knew that, too.

“Oh? Then what about your father, Izuku? What am I worth to you?”

Panicked eyes stared up at All for One, who stared down at him with a predatory smile and chilling gaze. It made Izuku aware of just how close they were—that if Izuku were anyone else, the hands on his head may have already pierced through his skull, uncaring for the mess that’d be left behind.

Just as Izuku was desperate for escape from him, so too was All for One desperate for the affection of those he called his. The cost to them did not matter, not if it meant getting what he wanted, and denying him even the illusion of it invited the threat to return and rip away something more to get what he desired.

There had been one time before when Izuku had said something that caused All for One to snap like this. What exactly he had said was an answer left behind somewhere between heavy doses of drugs and darkness, but he knew it was something about All for One not being his father—something that opposed the illusion, and Izuku learned the best tactic was simply avoiding such topics altogether.

And yet, here he was, implying this man had more value by not being around at all. A perfect contradiction to All for One’s disturbed fantasy.

What did he do here? Did he try to backtrack and appeal to All for One?

No. He couldn’t—not even if he wanted to. Lies had never been his strong suit, but his honesty was still a fine line to balance. He was already due for an extension of the usual punishment, but now that he was in this more dangerous territory, he knew he could inadvertently drag his mother down with him if he didn’t take even a second to think.

He didn’t mind digging the hole for himself just a little deeper if it meant making sure his mother stayed out of it.

“I—mom might disagree, but I wish you never came back.”

Other words boiled in his stomach, words better left in the past Izuku could not completely bury, damning ones he vowed to never say, ones he hated himself for even thinking as he had searched his mind for excuses: I regret having missed you—loving you, thinking you were someone I wanted around.

“How harsh, Izuku. To think you’d say such a thing after all I’ve done for you.”

“What you’ve done for me?” Izuku snarled. Snapshots of memories flashed across his vision: eager Quirk dissections on the couch after a long day and a mocking voice gleefully recounting a massacre, a warm meal for three with bites taken between chatter and laughter and desecrated cities beyond what they eye could see, birthday wishes that reminded him he wasn’t alone and isolated time lost in cold metal prisons, bedtime stories detailing dragons and sorcerers and suffocating visions of the death featuring people he loved. None of that had ever been for Izuku, no matter how often All for One said it was, no matter what Izuku once believed it to have been. All those resurfaced hurts and sickening thoughts festered within him. “You’ve done nothing, I wish you were a deadbeat—it’d be better if you were dead—”

Izuku’s jaw clamped shut without his permission. The dangerous expression on All for One’s face didn’t twitch, even though Izuku’s forced silence was a response enough that Izuku had not only crossed a line, but barreled far past the cliff’s edge. Without a word he shut the water off and lifted the back of Izuku’s chair back into a sitting position, and Izuku didn’t even have a second to orient himself before he was spun around so that he was face to face with All for One. He took Izuku’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks and drew his gaze up to meet his.

“What an unheroic sentiment from you, Izuku.” A chill ran through Izuku, hair standing on end, in response to such a cold voice. A drop of water trickled down his nose and crawled to his chin. “I’d almost be proud, but we don’t wish for death for our family, even in anger. Do you understand me?”

He felt a weight lift off his tongue, though it didn’t feel like less of one, considering it simply sank past his pounding heart and into his stomach instead. “Yes.”

“What was that? I can’t hear you, Izuku.”

“Yes,” he said louder. Yet All for One’s expression did not shift, and Izuku knew at that moment he was expecting something more: appeasement. Izuku had seen All for One like this once before, only days after Izuku woke up here; once was enough to know it wasn’t worth ignoring again—he’d almost lost his chance for any opening to escape at all. He knew he wouldn’t be so lucky a second time. He was too close to teetering back into the very same darkness he was trying to avoid. One more wrong word, and he knew he’d never see light again.

A shaky inhale, a trembling heart—how useless of it to waver only now. How pathetic it was that he had to grovel at all, to cave into demands he had been clawing against not even a minute before. A hurried exhale—again, again—not fast enough as thumbs rubbed into bone. A desperate gulp—it was all simply another heavy stone to swallow.

“Yes, dad. I’m sorry.”

How quiet those words were, syllables ashes on his tongue. The inflection probably didn’t matter—in the end, it was just another victory for All for One. Words had power, and for all the defiance Izuku could spout, if he was forced to kneel long enough to keep himself afloat, All for One would consider it another step closer to the obedient puppet All for One wanted him to be.

The strings dictating Izuku’s life were not all his to control anymore—one by one All for One plucked at the cords that created Izuku’s core, and as much as they vibrated with resistance, one day, Izuku suspected, All for One would be fed up because, as much as he tried, Izuku would never be what All for One so wished him to be.

Izuku could not be here when that patience snapped. He’d already poked at the edges of it, and he was scared to find out what would happen to Izuku and his mother when he couldn’t bounce back. Yet, there was no telling how long All for One’s patience would last—while All for One was ancient, even he could not be forever patient, not when Izuku’s lifespan was far more limited than his.

“Very good, Izuku.” The worst of the menacing aura faded, but Izuku knew it still lingered. He’d be walking on a thin tightrope until he was alone in his cell. “Thank you for your apology. You’re forgiven.”

For now went unspoken.

As if a final act of reconciliation, rather than the prize All for One saw it as, All for One held him like he was a pet owner comforting a sodden dog, petting his hair and holding him close. Izuku felt tears rise to his eyes, but these were not tears of relief.

They were tears for all the things Izuku could never say, for all the pieces of himself he had to neglect to make sure they had a chance at getting out of here, for all of his failures and the mistakes he couldn’t name.

All for One would claim them as his, though. Tears for the regret of harsh words, for an imagined, repeating, grief if he were to leave Izuku again—even if both of them knew that was not the truth.

They would both dream. All for One dreaming for it to one day be true, Izuku dreaming for the day he and his mother got the freedom they longed for. And in those dreams they lived, clashing and coexisting, determined to achieve their reality, utilizing every tool to reach their goals, and snuffing the other’s out until there was nothing of it left.

Fingers threaded through his hair, and after minutes too long, All for One let him go. A wistful sigh. “Well, we do need to resume your haircut. I’d rather it doesn’t dry first—unless you have any objections?”

Another test. Izuku’s eyes flickered down to his lap. “...no.”

A doubtful hum.

“I need a haircut,” Izuku murmured.

“That’s right, my little prince, you do.” In the corner of his eyes Izuku watched All for One pick up the scissors. Something twisted in his stomach—the scissors were less dangerous than All for One’s hands on him, and yet, the sight of something that could so easily be turned into a weapon left him even more unsettled. He wondered if it was because, once, he had been comforted by All for One’s physical affections, or if it was because he’d grown so used to them again; he hated the part of himself that wondered those things—it was the same part of him that didn’t offer another possibility that was kinder to his heart. “I’ll take care of you.”

A sharper twist. Izuku swallowed his tongue, and even though he was restrained but not paralyzed, he didn’t move an inch.

All for One’s movements were slow and thoughtful, but that didn’t keep him from chatting between each snip.

A question about Izuku’s thoughts on a Quirk theory. Snip. Asking how Izuku enjoyed the book All for One had been reading to him. Snip, snip. A harsh, off-handed reference to a hero Izuku admired—nails digging into palm and a clenched jaw. Snip. A quiz on the applications of a gravity Quirk that didn’t feel as theoretical as All for One tried to make it sound; tears bubbling within lowered eyes—a shaky breath as Izuku gave a careful answer. Snip.

Izuku felt a bundle of strands fall onto the back of his palm. Snip. They shook in time with every snip. Snip, snip, snip. His hair was pulled back and his skull jostled with it—the lost hair fell off of his hand and drifted onto the floor, featherlight and free. Snip. A hand on his cheek, the turn of his head. Snip. Up, down, pulled around gently like a little doll. Snip. Snip.

Hot whirling air in his ear, something running through his hair. A chill as it dissipated. The room seemed to grow colder and colder as All for One kept swiping at his hair. Snip. The circling of a vulture around Izuku as if he were a corpse ripe for the picking. A passing thought spoken aloud Izuku had no response for. Something metallic set down.

Hands on his cheeks and the edge of breath—they were so warm, but Izuku longed for the cold again.

“Oh, you look so cute Izuku.” A kiss to his forehead and the ruffling of his hair. All for One moved to stand behind Izuku, one hand curled over his shoulder and the other under his chin nudged his gaze back up. “And so much like your father.”

Izuku barely recognized himself in that mirror.

His hair was short, just a bit shorter than Izuku had ever let it get. It had always been a deliberate choice to never let it get cut to this length. Even as a child, this short curly hair had reminded him of his father. It may not have been as nightmarish when he was small, but now that Izuku knew more, having the similarities between them so starkly presented made him sick.

He could see the hint of his sharpening jaw, the shape of his eyebrows, the curve of his ear—similarities Izuku could hide when his hair was just a little longer. Before his imprisonment, he’d been considering letting it grow out even more, as if his thick hair could bury his secrets. Now even that choice was ripped away from him, and Izuku was forced to confront the things he never wanted to face.

Ignorance was not an option, not when All for One wanted to engrave this truth into Izuku’s very soul.

“Your father did a great job, didn’t he, Izuku?”

A prompt, and Izuku knew he couldn’t risk ignoring it. Not after earlier. Bile soured his throat. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Izuku.” All for One pat his cheek. Through the reflection Izuku could feel All for One’s unrelenting stare. What All for One saw at that moment, Izuku didn’t know—he didn’t want to know. Whatever delusion All for One saw fulfilled in this moment was one Izuku never wanted to understand. “You’ve had quite the eventful excursion today—it’s time we get you back to your room.”

All for One spun the chair around to face him and then reached for the first of the latches. Izuku remained still as they came undone, one by one. Twitched as the last one came undone, and froze again as he saw All for One’s expression: taunting, expectant—ready to make Izuku’s existence more miserable, even if that’s the last thing All for One would call it.

Izuku remained seated.

A hand ruffled his hair, and Izuku flinched at the touch. A light twitch of the lip, but All for One made no comment about it.

Careful inhale—shaky, quiet, exhale. Izuku’s hands curled into tight fists. How pathetic it felt to be compliant, how much his heart raged and his mind screeched louder the echoes of every error that got him here, but even more clear was the one voice reminding him that if he didn’t leave himself the possibility of opportunity, there would be no chance he would save his mother, let alone himself. He had to get her out of here, no matter what.

Izuku moved, slowly, eyes on All for One, whose face betrayed nothing, to get out of the chair. Every movement felt like a test, even as Izuku simply stood up before All for One. Not running. Now wasn’t the time to go, even if he wished it was. Even if Izuku wasn’t monitoring his every twitch with such intensity, he would know now would be a poor time to run, even if earlier he would have tried to catch All for One off guard anyway.

Once it was clear Izuku wasn’t running, All for One’s smile grew and he ruffled his hair. Some demented reward—a pat on the back for All for One, a signifier of victory that Izuku had been forced to hand over. Then did nothing else; expectant, again, and this time, Izuku had no guesses as to what.

Izuku shifted on his feet, warily eyeing the space between All for One and the door. There’s no way All for One would let him walk back unsupervised, especially not after the conversation earlier. A step out of line, and Izuku could imagine the dark encroaching on him, the heavy restraints—cold stillness and warm adjustments—the sharp pain in his elbow keeping him half-lucid, and his mother’s crying voice—whatever this was now was the true tipping point.

Don’t mess up. Run. You’ve taken too many risks today—no, not enough. Ignore your instincts. They’re the only thing keeping you both alive and safe. They’ve ruined this attempt. Move, freeze, figure it out, figure it out.

“Um…” Izuku hated speaking first. Not only was initiating the conversation the last thing Izuku ever wanted to do, but it was inherently a risk. All for One waited for the day Izuku spoke to him of his own free will of mundane things, but when that day was nowhere in Izuku’s foreseen future, it meant more conversational minefields to maneuver than normal. “Was there, uh… something else…?”

The only response was All for One’s poker face—still smiling, not telling if Izuku tipped towards total damnation or his ability to fight another day.

Izuku hated it, but he hoped he had the right card to play to get the clue he was missing.

“Um… Dad..?” His voice cracked.

“Sorry Izuku, I was simply lost in thought,” he said with absolutely no sincerity, but his tone didn’t sound as menacing as before—Izuku didn’t breathe easy, but he didn’t feel like he was about to be thrown off a cliff. “You’re quite eager to get going, aren’t you?”

“Um…” Sounding eager translated to wanting to get away from All for One, which while undeniably true, was always the wrong thing to say. His brain scrambled for some reasonable excuse. “I… I’m just… tired. Sorry.”

Something flashed behind All for One’s eyes, but before Izuku could decipher its meaning, it was gone.

“Oh why didn’t you say so?” Like it was an invitation, All for One swept Izuku off his feet again. His arm was already out to strike out when he froze, the answer hitting him far later than it should’ve.

Because of course this was what All for One was after—no matter what Izuku tried, he never let Izuku walk between rooms without restraints that kept him from running, and especially not after any escape attempt. Today, the restraint was All for One himself. He probably only let Izuku get away without directly asking All for One because Izuku called him dad without prompting.

Izuku did not want to decide if asking All for One to carry him or calling him dad was the worse choice of the two.

With robotic stiffness Izuku lowered his arm, and All for One chuckled. “You seem surprised.”

“It—it was just sudden…” Izuku stared at his twined hands.

“Hmm. You certainly seem more tired—you’re quieter than usual.” Was that an admonishment or not? Izuku couldn’t tell. He raised his shoulders in a short-lived shrug. All for One adjusted his grip to make Izuku lean closer to him. “We should get you to bed.”

An underlying implication—no meal first.

It was a minor punishment; it had been an internal debate in the earliest days, to eat the food provided to him or not. It was better than the prison gruel he’d been living off before—sometimes it was even recognizable as his mother’s own cooking, which was something that he couldn’t bring himself to reject regardless of the circumstances—but accepting any of it still felt like some sort of concession, especially when each meal was a roulette wheel of if he’d be taking another dose of drugs Izuku could not name.

In the end, Izuku knew if he wanted to get the two of them out of here, he needed to build up the strength he lost while in Tartarus, even if the efforts felt futile, and he was, at best, kept at a too-weak baseline.

It also meant this would likely get back to his mother, and he knew she hated seeing him hurt himself in that way. It hurt her emotionally, and made Izuku feel guilty when he hadn’t before—a small, but effective punishment. He could feel that guilt settling in his stomach now, his mother’s face on the forefront of his mind.

“Okay,” he murmured, even quieter, trying to sound more tired than he felt.

Maybe this was the best outcome of the day’s events. While he made far too many mistakes today, it seemed All for One might be leaving him alone sooner than he would’ve had Izuku not made such a massive blunder.

All for One still filled the silence as they made their way back. Izuku was careful with his responses, slower—easily explained with the cover he’d given himself earlier. It didn't take long before the door to his cell opened again, and he was once again back at where he started.

All for One set him on the bed in the corner of the room, and took his time to tuck Izuku in like he was a toddler again. He fidgeted with each movement, but didn’t outright stop it, even as All for One ruffled his hair and Izuku felt the back of his head sink further into his pillow.

“Um… night..?”

“Sleep well,” All for One said, giving no hint to what the actual time was.

Izuku closed his eyes, and listened for the sound of All for One leaving.

And waited.

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

Izuku tried to keep his breathing even. He knew All for One had seen him asleep, but he’s not going to open his eyes to check if All for One is watching him fall asleep—or just watching him in general. That unsettling feeling creeping over Izuku’s skin was enough of an answer, even if in another scenario someone may have brushed it off as paranoia.

This wasn’t exactly unusual. He would never get used to the staring; it was uncomfortable as it was normal.

Worse, he knew All for One knew his status because of Search. Even when he tried to fake it, he’d know if Izuku was really asleep or awake—not like being in either state would change the situation. It truly didn’t matter to All for One, and that may have been the worst part of it all; it never mattered what Izuku did, his existence alone was enough for All for One’s attention to be on Izuku.

This may have been another punishment in of itself. Izuku would have gotten back up a few minutes after All for One left and started pacing—there were too many pent up feelings inside him to sleep. When he was moving it was easier to focus on what he needed to do next; trying to sleep made it too easy to spiral into the past.

It was no surprise he didn’t sleep often.

Only when Izuku’s thoughts became so incoherent that they stumbled over themselves did Izuku find himself passing out for unknowable lengths of time. If none of the words inside of him could be understood, there would be no regrets to linger on while he rested.

All for One staring at him, combined with the restlessness simmering inside of him, meant there was no way Izuku would stop thinking, let alone sleep.

Could he think himself into unconsciousness? Plan and review ideas for future escape attempts with All for One sitting so close to him? Could those ideas get so loud they’d drown out all else—would they consume him if he let them ring loud enough?

Something ran through his hair and Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin. “Trouble sleeping? Would it help if I sang a lullaby?”

Izuku kept his eyes closed if only so he didn’t glare at All for One. “...if you want.”

The fingers in his hair toyed with his curls as All for One began to sing something low and familiar—something from a collection of vague memories, so distant it was easy to forget. Nightmares hadn’t been strangers, even as a child. From his youth they had clung onto him, never letting go, growing from tigers to monsters with every year that had passed.

And in those moments, when his weakness was made transparent in the dark, it was not always his mother he ran to.

He remembered a hand in his hair like this, shaking as his fingers sunk into fabric desperate for an anchor. As tightly as he held on, so too was he held, shielded from all other eyes, as Izuku would find comfort in a heartbeat and that low voice that always sang this same rhythm. He’d been so small back then, so small and unknowing, so easy to carry back to his room—”you need to let go of me now, sweetie,” his mother squeezed him as she set him back on the floor.

He looked up at her, clutching the bottom of her skirt. “But I don’t wanna.”

She laughed, and with such a gentle smile, she spoke, “I think you’ll like what’s out there.”

Izuku glanced toward the door in the distance, soft sunlight peeking beneath the gap in the bottom. The light looked nice, but he couldn’t help but glance back up at his mother. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I don’t wanna leave mama alone.”

“You won’t be.” She crouched down to meet his eyes. “Because I know you’ll come back after you have some fun, and then the two of us will be together again.”

Something tugged at his soul, and he looked back towards the door. His tiny fingers began to unfurl, but didn’t let her go. “You won’t be lonely?”

“No.” She smiled. Slowly, he let her go. “Have a good day, Izuku.”

He grabbed the handle, cold beneath his scarred hand. Yet he couldn’t help but look back, find a reason to stay a moment longer, extend this conversation before he was forced to leave her again. “Do I look okay mom?”

His mother shuffled closer, muttering something under her breath as she fixed his tie. “You look great, my little hero. Now get going, or you’ll be late.”

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going. I’ll come back.” It felt like such a heavy promise, even though he wasn’t going far.

“I know.”

He opened the door and stepped into his classroom. Immediately, a group of heads gathered in the far back corner lifted up and met his eyes.

“Deku!” Uraraka waves.

“Midoriya-kun! Please be mindful of the time! You were almost late!”

“There’s seven minutes before class starts.”

“That’s two minutes before the five minute bell! Students should arrive at least 30 minutes early—”

“Isn’t that a little overkill prez?”

Iida launched into a lecture about the merits of arriving early, and while Izuku let the lecture fade into the background, thinking about how much Iida cared about all of them soothed him. He went around the classroom greeting his classmates: smiles and laughter and previous days discussed—Kacchan’s words gruff and dismissive even as he leaned towards the closest conversation to listen, Todoroki’s quiet recollection of his most recent visit to his mother, Uraraka cheerfully recounting a few great sales she and Tsuyu stumbled upon as they wandered the mall the day before, Jirou recommending music to Kaminari and Yaoyorozu leading into a discussion on synesthesia, the updated score for Kirishima and Ojiro’s recent set of arm wrestling matches, another match demanded with Ashido and Hagakure cheering them both on, Satou passing out treats, each uniquely decorated and getting thoughtful compliments and gushing excitement and gratitude from the rest of his classmates.

“I missed this,” the words slipped out of Izuku’s mouth.

“Missed what?”

“I… I don’t know.” Izuku shook his head. He set a hand above his chest—for such a lovely moment, his heart seemed so still. His fingertips felt so cold, yet his chest, unbeating as it was, felt so warm. Tears slipped out from his eyes, and he brushed it aside, watching it dry on his flesh as if it could give him an answer for why peacefulness felt so foreign. “But… but, I’m here now, so—”

A startled gasp, a tight tug on his scalp—Izuku scrambled to sit up but his limbs locked in place, his body manipulated by hands that weren’t his.

His pillow was gone. Instead, his head rested on All for One’s lap, and now he stared up at him, utterly frozen beneath that cold anger that had no origin Izuku could name.

Yet, as quickly as that anger had appeared, it was gone, and All for One stroked the top of his head as if to heal the lingering aches. “It’s good to see you awake, Izuku.”

He slept? No, of course he had—pieces of the dreams still lingered, even if the gentleness that had tried to hold him was quickly fading into a longing ache paired with a quiet apprehension. But if he had been asleep, what had bothered All for One so much to wake Izuku up so violently?

“While you were asleep, I spent some time contemplating your punishment.” Of course everything before now hadn’t been enough—his teeth clenched, trying to figure out what could be coming, even if the alarm in the back of his mind already told him, if it was coming so suddenly like this, it wasn’t meant to be guessed. “Your sudden bout of tiredness gave me an epiphany, and so I decided that this time, I’d choose your punishment based on a gamble.”

“A gamble?” Izuku echoed. What sort of gamble would All for One make while he was asleep?

All for One’s hand cradled his cheek, his thumb tracing the dark eyebags beneath Izuku’s lids. “Truthfully, I never liked watching you sleep, Izuku. My time with you was already limited, and even more was taken from me whenever you needed to rest. I had a choice to make when you were younger: did I let you keep a regular sleep cycle, and risk you running away from me as you grew older, or did I trap you within your delusions but knowing you’d physically always be close by? I made my choice, and we’re here now as a consequence of that.”

Izuku shuddered—had he really been that close to being imprisoned in his own mind as a child?

Then, a worse thought: there was a reason this was coming up now, and an unsettled dread crept through his veins.

“But now I realize—neither of those had been the right answer at all. And so, that brings us to my gamble. I wondered how much your dreams changed, my little prince, and so, I decided to find out. Lullaby, Deepened Sleep, Dream Toggler, Gentle Dream, Dream Reader—all of those Quirks to test your subconscious. If they showed something I liked, then I’d keep things as they were before, and pick a different punishment.”

A gamble Izuku was always destined to lose, then. All for One would be the delusional one between the two of them if he had truly expected any other outcome—but maybe, the more likely truth was that All for One knew the outcome of his self-made bet from the start. If he hated his previous decision in hindsight, and found a better solution during the perfect time to implement it, there was no way All for One would pick any other alternative.

Even more violating was the fact that the kindest dream he’s had since he’d arrived was no longer only his to remember.

Maybe Izuku should be more surprised that his dreams were intruded upon. Yet, with All for One’s obsessive need for control, it was surprising it had taken this long—already, his body was not always his own to move, and sometimes words he never wanted to say were ripped from his throat. So how long would Izuku’s mind be his sole solace from that control? How long did he have before even his every thought was overheard?

“You’re familiar with the gift I gave your uncle, and I’ve decided I’m going to give you a similar one.”

“A Quirk?” Izuku couldn’t hide the horror in his voice—it was both an inexplicable worst case scenario and one that didn’t make any sense. “You—you can’t get that back, not without—”

Not without taking One for All.

“I won’t need it until you’re ready, Izuku. Until then, I’d rather you hold onto it—it’s called Sleepless. Its purpose is rather simple: you don’t have to sleep anymore, Izuku—you won’t be able to even when you want to.’

That… that didn’t sound like the worst thing. He may not be able to escape his own thoughts, but more time awake meant more time planning to escape and getting out of here. He had to be missing something—there’s no way it could be that simple.

“The best part of that Quirk is that, despite the purpose of that Quirk, it doesn’t grant any immunity to sleeping Quirks. You’ll still be able to sleep when I need you to, Izuku.” All for One tapped the skin next to Izuku’s eyeballs. “Maybe with this those eyebags of yours will finally clear up.”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed. “When… when you need me to?”

“That’s right. Unlike before, I can spend all your waking hours with you, and when I have to go away, you can finally sleep. You won’t be able to use that convenient excuse to get out of spending time with your father. We can be together for as long as we want—isn’t that great, Izuku?”

Izuku stared up at him, wide-eyed with horror and rage. Every muscle in his body yelled with desperate need to fight, to resist; his skeleton desperate to rip away from his flesh and bring Izuku’s mutilated body somewhere out of All for One’s reach. But he couldn’t even shake his head, couldn’t even snarl every word trapped within his clogged throat. That demented, gleeful smile peered down at him, fully aware of the turmoil in Izuku’s gut, but eager to achieve an unexpected checkmate.

Every waking moment spent with All for One, trapped in stasis when he wasn’t. Every expectation of Izuku’s imprisonment had just been turned on its head. Up until now every plot, every attempt, had been made when All for One’s eyes were drawn away from him. Maneuvering around All for One’s moods on a semi-regular basis was difficult, but if he had to spend all his time doing that?

When would he have the time to figure something out? How could he sneak away when All for One would watch his every move more closely than before?

Izuku hadn’t thought there was a worse punishment than being half-aware in the dark—didn't think this situation could get any worse at all.

All for One’s hand fell over his face, could see the streaks of red light as something shoved its way through Izuku’s flesh, only had one thought as the sickly taste of Sleepless crammed itself into his skull, and its influence spread its roots beneath his eyes.

He was wrong.

#mha #bnha #dad for one #dreams that are(n't) mine au #i'm indecisive about the rating for this fic #considering the tags #so i'm going with not rated how spooky #anyway surprise i actually wrote a sequel for once #this happened because i wanted to try to write something worse than b&ed and had the epiphany that i could in fact write a sequel #and there might be more to this au but i will not make promises #but just know i have plans. evil plans #considering how this au (and fic) spawned i've decided the nature of this series is literally “how can i make it worse”#the fact that this is hurt/no comfort hurts my hurt/comfort loving soul i hope you all know this #(but boy do i also love angst)#astersatdawnfics #my fic #long post

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naranjapetrificada · 6 days

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I was having a WIP chat with one of my betas (@epersonae) earlier and one thing she said is there's probably a universe where people who understood what the show was trying to do with Izzy are able to joyfully dig into his character because there's no canyon and I'm currently feeling very jealous. I've already been having to think about him lately and ironically my other beta (@sabra-n) said something yesterday in a completely different context that's got me turning him over in my mind no matter how much I'd rather think about anything else.

I've mentioned before that it always feels like the Ed POV sections take the longest to feel right, and yesterday sabra was like "what if it's because your Ed's so different from canon?" So when I sat down to get some work done with that in mind, I started thinking about how it's probably going to continue to be tough to write this Ed when he a) didn't have the abusive father of canon, b) has two older sisters who love him and c) has a social position where Izzy's influence can't look the way it did in canon.

Deep in my braindump document for this fic there are plans for and half-written scenes about violence, legacy, performing masculinity, daddy issues, trauma, and other themes from the show, but in order to get into stuff like that that will help put Ed as a character in more familiar territory, I'll have to come at it sideways. And Izzy could be a really great vector for that here, even if it doesn't look the way the show did, and that means I'm stuck thinking deeper about that greasy little rat (affectionate? nah, not quite) more than I've ever wanted to.

I figured out a way to make him useful in this way, but it's going to require giving him a level of interiority I don't want to. In that other universe, where you don't feel like you have to be on your guard to defend yourself from canyon takes, giving Izzy interiority could be a really fun writing challenge! But with the miasma of just...everything that's happened in our version of the fandom that's harder, because in our reality we've had to think about him even when we didn't feel like it, just because we were trying to wrap our minds around all ass-backwards canyon takes.

I hope there's a version of me in that universe writing this fic. If there is, she's probably already posted chapter 3 because she had a lower barrier for entry with accepting the amount of thinking about Izzy that's been required. She's also probably less worried about accidentally making him sympathetic, so she doesn't have to confront her lack of experience writing unreliable narrators. That bitch is so lucky.

(another thing I said to Elaine earlier about writing Izzy is that at least we're both miserable, which should probably be its own tag. At least I have the consolation of knowing that he's definitely having a worse time living the story than I am writing it.)

#with all the conversations I've had about stuff like concretes and original fiction vs. fic #i very much want to get all this right #and even if half the stuff I've thought of about how to fit Izzy into this world doesn't make it into the fic proper #that doesn't mean I'm off the hook for writing it #i need to be able to answer certain questions about him #who what when where why how #those kinds of questions #and writing is how you answer this questions #at least we're both miserable #izzy hands #he was a fucking nightmare #fic writing #writing process #chapter 3 #from the firmament #ofmd #our flag means death #fandom meta #fandom critical

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yjwhatif · 3 years

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With the semi/cryptic confirmation of Ed and Barts relationship in the series I have a question:

Do you think everyone knows about them (in world) or do you think they’re keeping it secret from some?

It’s just a thought that’s been in my head recently. It is most likely fuelled by the whole drama of G&B not being able to depict a “specific character” (it’s definitely Bart) as gay. They’ve had to hide the relationship from their audience - because of ridiculous reasons - but there are still moments that bring up the question - Are they? Before the reveals from AskGreg, I kinda thought- well they are clearly not together yet, but perhaps they both have feelings for one another and are just waiting for the other to make the next move because they’re nervous idiots who don’t want to have read the situation wrong — all while their friends are like - seriously guys? just get together already. Kinda like they did in s1 with Wally and Artemis - and I guess early Supermartian as well - which I would have been okay with... though with the likelihood of there being at least another two year time skip you’d probably have missed the getting together moment - which would kinda suck. Anyway. With the information about the chances being they were supposed to clearly be in a relationship throughout S3 — which makes the whole structuring of ILLUSIONS just make sense — it’s got me viewing their moments with a whole new energy. Also, I saw this post by Greg —

And let me just clarify, I have no idea if this is actually referencing the Ed and Bart stuff, it might not be (probably isn't). This is purely me speculating.

My reading of this is they got told they couldn’t depict Bart as gay pretty late on and that specifically affected ILLUSIONS where they likely intended to confirm the relationship with that first shot - the kiss on the cheek moment. Even now that moment is just odd - because it’s there but it’s not - because technically there is no actual kiss… which I think is absolutely the point. It plants the seed without actually breaking any rules - all by keeping the momentum but removing the specific kiss frame. It’s the only moment that I feel is explicit in saying they are in a relationship - everything else you can just read into and imply there’s something - but they technically don’t confirm anything.

The whole thing is actually quite interesting - despite the reasoning for it being totally ridiculous. By keeping/showing what they did... People notice it. People talk about it. People reflect on it. More people talk about it. People writing. Make. Create. Discuss it. An entire audience is formed who want and support it. It’s a whole thing now because people noticed it and generated a positive response to it - and that was before all the AskGreg information. The whole reason YJ got a season 3 is because the fans fought to get it back. Enough people talked about it - and kept talking about it - to convince TPTB that the show should come back. Greg and Brandon know this. They know the power the fans have and maybe they hoped that power would help them again in freeing Bart from these ridiculous restrictions. #letbartoutofthecloset

Obviously, we can't know until S4 is released whether G&B got the permission to confirm Bart's sexuality the way they envisioned - but maybe the responses that came during the release of 3b were enough to convince TPTB that they were fighting a losing battle. But who knows, people in power can be very stubborn at times, so we will just have to see what we get. Fingers crossed they eased up though - and not just because of the Ed/Bart relationship (which I am obviously a fan of -- it's fine if not everyone is) - but because these restrictions on LGBTQ+ content shouldn't be a thing and need to stop -- there is just no validity in them.

Anyhow. despite their not being allowed to officially confirm the relationship, Greg's comment about Ed's having a boyfriend they can't name basically confirms the fact without technically breaking any rules again. Masterfully done Wiesman. With this, it implies the pair are in fact dating during S3 which brings us back to the original question... but who knows??

With the comments of Virgil during ILLUSIONS, it's easy to assume their friends do in fact know. They also seem to have no problem being close and interacting with one another whilst in the presence of others -- that is, except for one moment...

Ever since the first time I saw this episode (ELDER WISDOM) I have always found this moment strange - because Ed seems to get kinda awkward when Barry comes to check on Bart. (Or that's how I see it at least.) He realises Flash is standing there and immediately pulls his head down averting his gaze -- almost like he doesn't want to be seen by the elder. But why? Does Barry not know about the pair -- or maybe he doesn't know about Bart and Ed thinks their current closeness is too revealing -- who's to say Bart's even fully out to the world yet -- who's to say either of them are? We certainly don't since we weren't allowed to be shown. We can't know until we know - so until then we can play the speculation game while we wait.

Bart is certainly a bit of a secret keeper when it comes to being himself. I'm still convinced the Bart we see onscreen is merely his interpretation of what he thinks people expect from a speedster in this time. We saw 'real' Bart, he was snarky and cynical and nothing like the Bart we've had for the past two seasons. He said it himself - he's playing a character - and I don't think he knows how to break out of it - not while the possibility exists that it might hurt those he's grown to care about. Bart wants to be seen a certain way to avoid acknowledging the truth of the past - if people see him as happy and smiley, then no one will question him on things he doesn't want to talk about. The problem with that is you can't hide yourself forever - cracks begin to form and eventually, the truth comes out whether you want it to or not. So who knows how comfortable Bart is revealing any of his true self to those he cares about. Maybe his relationship with Ed will be the thing that finally helps him find comfort in being himself, whilst also trusting others to still accept him as himself... and maybe getting him that bit of therapy he really needs.

This brings us to Eduardo… First, can I just say it made me so happy to see Greg’s confirmation of Ed being gay - though it is slightly annoying that he was robbed of his explicit onscreen reveal in S3 thanks to the drama with Bart. His whole relationship to his powers in S2 to S3 fits the representation of coming to terms with your sexuality/identity from a very negative point of view. Feeling like it’s something that needs fixing or needs to be “cured” - to then finding the light and freedom in accepting yourself for you. His growth between seasons is brilliant. He understands the hate and insecurity the teens are feeling because he felt it himself. He does all he can to help them because he never felt he got that help when he needed it - and no one deserves to feel worse for being who they are. Obviously, the things he talks about are framed in the context of dealing with/accepting the meta-gene - yet there are certain moments where it seems he’s saying more than that…

All of which got me wondering - why did Ed originally runaway? It certainly wasn’t because of the meta-abilities he did not yet have. All he’s ever said on the subject was he thought he wanted to be with his father - the man it seems he barely had a relationship with. No, I think Ed has been running from himself for a long time and his dad just happened to be an actual direction for him to aim for. The way he speaks about his wanting to be “cured” and “praying to get rid of his powers” suggests an upbringing around religion and traditional ideas of there being a ‘normal/proper’ way to be — while anything that doesn’t fit that way is treated as other or something that needs to be changed or 'fixed'. Maybe he ran to avoid being found out and run the risk of being ostracised by those he loved. Or maybe he was found out and leaving wasn’t entirely his choice*. If this was the case, I can certainly imagine him not wanting to come out to his dad for fear of his reaction and completely losing all chance of that father-son relationship they’re both trying so hard to keep. It can seem easier to live in secret than risk the reality of loss. So while the meta-gene likely wasn’t the main thing he was angry about in S2, it was able to become a physical thing he could blame and focus his anger on - without having to think about where his issues truly lied… Though with a bit of time it also became the thing he was comfortable conveying his feelings through...

“I’ve learned to accept, even love my meta-abilities”

I love this line so much and it’s all because of the delivery by Freddy Rodrigues. There is the slightest hint of a pause before he says “meta-abilities”, which gives the impression he was about to say something else before then remembering himself and who he was talking to. Then there’s the small inflecion he put on “love”, which makes it sound like it’s the first time he’s heard himself say the words out loud. I don’t hear him talking about the gene - I hear him talking about finally accepting himself - all of himself - for the first time in maybe ever and finally feeling happy because of it. I hear growth... From being the angry 14-year-old skater who just wanted to run away and escape any way he could. To the 16-year-old councillor/Outsider jumping straight into the danger to protect and inspire those who need it. Both he and Bart are such strong characters with so much more to be seen - especially when it comes to the insecurities which lie behind their masks. They both compliment each other pretty perfectly - both powers-wise and personality-wise - meaning while they try to hide themself from others, I don't think it'll take long for them to realise they can't hide from each other.

Anywho, that’s all the speculatary nonsense I’ve got for today. This turned into such a patchwork of vaguely linkable thoughts I’ve had which barely relate to the one I started with - but that is usually how it goes. Take it as you will…

Also, completely unrelated to YJ, but Bi Tim Drake now exists in dc canon which is really cool - seeing all of the joy it’s sparked has really given me something to smile about this week… There is hope after all. 🌈

— LB ⚡️☀️

* OK so here’s a little random snapshot into the chaos of my mind— as I was writing the Ed stuff I had a scene pop into my head of Ed finally -for whatever reason- having to tell his dad that he didn’t leave his abuelo’s home - he got kicked out. His dads confused about this and asks Why? What did you do? And Ed’s like Nothing… I didn’t do anything wrong… he just… found out something. So Seniors like Found out what Eduardo? And Ed’s getting really nervous now because he doesn’t want to say it - That I, um… I’m… Senior step a fraction closer as he picks up on Ed’s anxiety but remains an appropriate distance - Son? Then after a tensening silence he finally says it - sounding the most vulnerable he has ever been - I’m gay… The silence is there again, heavy and unnerving, neither saying a word. Ed can’t move as he’s lock in his elders unreadable glare. Expecting the worse his head drops to take in the floor - anything that isn’t the disappointment ahead - he feels the urge to disappear burning up inside him - consuming him. Then just as he’s about to escape he’s suddenly grounded by a steadying hand rooting itself on his shoulder. Tentatively he lifts his gaze to witness his father, there, with nothing but love and support in his eyes - Mijo. The clamping in his chest dissipates as all the tension escapes at once, along with the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Ed embraces his dad and the elder embraces his son. Together. A family.

Anyway. That’s probably a load of rubbish but hey my minds full of it… but basically I really want to see a tender moment between Ed and his dad. For whatever reason. Something where Ed’s in a vulnerable state and in need of some emotional support from his father - and without hesitation his father steps up - because that’s what we haven’t seen from them yet. It would perfectly portray the strength of their relationship as father and son - despite their previous struggles - and prove that Senior is willing to support his son no matter the situation as the father - not just the scientist. Its the final step in their healing journey and I wanna see it so bad!!

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beauregard-s · 4 years

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Sharing (Bill D. x Reader x Eddie K.)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader x Eddie Kaspbrak (All of them are 18+)

Word Count: 7k (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Lots of NSFW material. Includes M/F/M threesome, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving), and unprotected sex. Also includes a bit of a Voyeur!Bill Denbrough and a lot of Dom!Bill Denbrough. And, of course, cursing and dirty talking.

A/n: I don’t even know what to say about this one, but I HAD to write it. I’m kind of insecure, but very happy because I finished it after a long time. It’s huge, I know, I’m sorry lmfao

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“I d-didn’t even get st-started, y/n...”

Bill kept acute attention on you and the fucked-out expression you had, his wrist down the waistband of your shorts, his hand inside your soaked panties, and his fingers tracing small circles over your aching clit. You held onto the counter behind your back so hard you could feel the numbness spreading through your hands. You felt the urge to clench your thighs together to get more of his touch, but Bill kept a knee between yours, his face so close his lips brushed against your cheeks and lips here and there.

You felt like you were tip-toeing on your edge, everything he did plus de thrill of having all your friends right in the next room driving you there. You could even hear their voices in the living room while you and Bill were hidden in his kitchen. You loved forbidden things such as the fear of being caught, and Bill knew that pretty well. And shared it with you.

“Do you wanna c-c-cum, love? I can f-feel you already p-pulsing...” he muttered, teasingly dragging his middle finger up and down your slit, never inside you. “Yes, please...” You purred, eyes on those ice blue ones of his, biting down your lip whenever you felt the urge of moaning loud. Bill smiled down at you so sweetly it didn’t even look like he was torturing you like that. “You will, b-but not now”. That and the way he slowed down so his fingers were barely moving made you whimper and grind against him. Bill kissed your cheek like he was sorry for keeping you so denied like that, but you knew he wasn’t. He loved all of that, teasing and leaving you hanging there, hot for him, just to fuck you senseless on his bed later. He loved that, and so did you.

“You’re so not getting away with this, William Denbrough” you hissed, but that only made him laugh. “I very m-m-much d-doubt it, y/n y/l/n.”

You smiled every time he’d say your name, simply because he never stuttered saying that. He pressed his whole hand against you and you gasped. He took in the chance of your parted lips to kiss you harshly like he always did. And you two could stay like that forever, but you heard a loud noise that made both of you freeze.

You looked at the kitchen door and Eddie was standing there, widened eyes and a cup you supposed he had in his hands, now shattered on the floor.

“I-I’m sorry, guys... Really. I’m so sorry. Fuck!”

And just as fast as all happened, he stormed out of there, while you were still smashed against Bill’s chest, his hand still inside your shorts and your lips raw from kissing. You looked back at each other and you saw his face turning red in embarrassment at the same time you felt your cheeks burning too. But then you both burst in laugher, finally parting away. “Damn, Bill, we scared the shit out of him” you tried to pull yourself together, adjusting your clothes, while Bill crossed the room to get a broom. “I b-b-bet ten b-bucks he will scold us about how unsanitary it is t-to touch ourselves in a k-kitchen. You b-better go and keep him from t-telling the others”.

Bill stayed behind to clean the broken glass and you made your way to the living room, ready to be the target of every sexual line of Richie for the rest of the year as soon as Eddie gossiped about what he just saw, but when you approached the rest of the Losers, they’re shit-talking about Bowers around the Monopoly board on the coffee table.

“Holy shit, y/n! Where is Bill?” Stan, the banker, fizzed. “Does he wanna buy Park Place or...?”

You frowned at them, surprised you didn’t get the mocking you were expecting. You read each of them, from Beverly sipping on her juice to Mike tapping his cards on the board, and they all seemed unaware. “I don’t know. I think he won’t, he’s almost bankrupted...” Your eyes then landed on Eddie automatically, sitting on his spot at the couch because he didn’t like to sit on the floor, looking nervous as heck.

His eyes didn’t meet yours, he seemed even more embarrassed than you felt that moment and it made you feel bad. You just didn’t know what was going on. You knew Eddie was kinda... Naive. He once hooked up with a girl at the homecoming and the boys kept making fun of that for months, but that was all he had in his history. You started worrying that you made him too uncomfortable, and now he was grossed out or something.

As soon as you took your seat again, Bill stepped into the room and, perceiving the ignorance in the air, he raised an eyebrow at you. You just shook your head as Stanley scuffled at him about the Park Place slot.

“What the hell happened earlier?” you asked, pulling your top down on you.

Bill sighed and shifted between the sheets, only covered by the fabric once he refused to get up with you. His sleepy voice made you smile, the sight of his bare chest flaunting some hickeys made you shiver. “You t-talking about...?”, “Eddie, Bill. I’m talking about Eddie.” you said, softly. “I mean, after he saw us he was just sitting there, deadly silent. Then he claimed bankruptcy ten minutes later and ran back home”.

Your boyfriend Denbrough rested his arm under his head and looked at you, narrowing his eyes. “I just ate you out until you screamed, and you were t-t-thinking about Eddie? S-seriously, y/n?”. Yes, he was right and you still felt your knees weak, but he laughed it off and shook his head right after. “I d-don’t know, love... He seemed k-kinda stressed. You’re worried ab-b-bout him, aren’t you?”. You shrugged, sitting down on the bed to put on your beaten converses. “Yes... I mean, Eddie is so high-strung... I just didn’t want to annoy him so much with something so silly. I love him.”

You and Eddie had known each other for years. Not as long as he knew Bill, but still, you had a strong bond. He and Bill met when they were just six, you joined the party when you all were ten. He was the one who you first confessed to being in love with Bill, in the first place. And he was the one who advised you on telling Bill himself.

“And he loves you too, b-babe.” Bill sat up and scooted closer, his lips meeting the crook of your neck from behind.

You raised a brow at his tone.

“What?” “No, I m-mean... Don’t tell m-me you never noticed.” You spun around so you were facing him. Bill looked serious, although a tiny smirk danced on his lips. “Oh, you d-didn’t...” “I didn’t what, exactly, William?”. He laughed at your anxiety. “Y/n, m-m-maybe Eds is head over heels f-for you.” You tilted your head while he kept an eye on your reaction. “No,” you said. “You can b-bet your sweet ass.”

Of course the next days felt weird.

There was definitely something wrong with Eddie Kaspbrak. He’d evade away somedays, making up excuses so he wouldn’t hang out with the group, and when he showed up you noticed how distant he was from you. Bill could keep better with all of this, he was brave enough to talk to Eddie like nothing happened, but you weren't. You were that one kind of person that, when things went wrong, would step back afraid of making it worse.

So it was what you did. You stepped back and let time solve things.

It took two weeks before Eddie made it to the Clubhouse again. You were laying on the couch, Bill’s arm around you as you had your back against his chest. Bev was sitting right in front of you, at the hammock, while you and Richie made fun of their kiss in the third grade.

“Don’t be such a prude, Billiam.” Richie teased, walking in circles and messing with Stan’s Rubik's Cube. “He’s not a prude. I don’t know why he’s blushing so much,” you said softly as Bill rolled his eyes. “That’s okay, we kissed when we were kids and I passed the baton to y/n.” Bev laughed and you two shared a playful wink. Richie scoffed, “Good friends share, honey. That’s what they say.” You laughed along with the others when Bill looked down at you, as red as a cherry, but grinning. “Y’all should j-j-just shut the fuck up -” but he got cut off when the trapdoor swung open and Stan went down through it, bringing Eddie.

“What kind of sickness are you guys humming about?” Stan asked casually. “Heard something about sharing from up there... Fuck off, Richie!”

Stan slapped the cube off Richie’s hands, fingers moving fast, trying to fix the mess, while Eddie moved around looking for a seat. His eyes inevitably drifted over you and you felt that weird embarrassment again. Your legs were occupying the free spot at the couch, your dress tucked in between your thighs so you wouldn’t show your underwear around. You immediately sat up, making room for him, and, with no choice, Eddie walked over and fell by your side.

“We were just stating that good friends sometimes share stuff, like y/n and I shared Bill.” Bev said and you chuckled over Stan’s expression of disbelief. “You didn’t share, Bill. You can’t call a peck during third-grade sharing.” Richie whistled. “Now we are talking? What do you mean by sharing, Staniel? Don’t be shy, elaborate!”

Stan didn’t even hesitate, leaning against a wood column.

“Threesome”.

The word fell like a bomb. At least it hit you like that.

Beverly was laughing and Richie was delighted with the dirty path that talk went through. You could feel Bill softly chuckling against you while his fingers grazed your arm. You didn’t understand how could he remain so relaxed over a subject like that when you could feel yourself blushing hard to it. You were not a prude, but now you felt like.

“Yeah, that’s some good stuff...” Richie cooed. “Bev and y/n/n on Big Bill...”

“Beep beep, Richie!” You called out.

“Oh, I can see you getting redder than a tomato, y/n! Tell us all, are you fond of the idea, or Bill doesn’t like sharing you much?”

“Richie, I swear to God...”

“I’d share you.” Bill said, softly. And he didn’t stutter at all. You looked up at him, dry swallowing your soul, but he kept the cool look and didn’t glance back.

Now even Stan had looked up at you and Bill from his cube and you all stayed silent over some good seconds before Richie broke the ice. ”Well, in this case, y/n, dear, your favorite Trashmouth will always be here for you,” and blew you a kiss that made you laugh even though we were shocked.

“...B-but I’d do it with someone who d-d-deserved her.” Bill completed.

Richie threw his hands in the air in surrender. “But I'm classified! I’m quite experienced in this shit!” Bev made herself comfortable at the hammock while your mind spun with the chaotic level of that talk. “Are you, Tozier? Tell us then” she teased. Richie nodded slowly, talking dreamily, “Amber Miller and Melanie... Melanie Something, in the bathroom at that guy Trevor’s party”.

“No way!” Eddie finally hissed by your side, and you knew by his high-pitched tone you weren’t the only one uncomfortable there. “You can’t call it a threesome when one just sucked your dick while you kissed the other, because that’s all you did to those two, Richie!”

“Yeah?” Richie’s eyes widened even more behind his thick glasses “Tell us then, Eddie Bear, do you count chickening-out on fucking Greta Bowie as losing your virginity for real? Because if you don’t, I have fucking news for you, my good man!”

And that was it. The igniting point had been established. Eddie got up and disappeared up the trapdoor the fastest you had ever seen. “Richie...” Beverly hissed, but you didn’t stay to hear the lecture that was about to start. You glanced at Bill and he nodded, so you climbed the stairs out of there.

The sun was already setting and the light through the trees had an orange tone when you spotted Eddie marching down the trail that’d lead him out of the Barrens. So you followed him and shouted for his name once. You knew he heard you, but he didn’t stop. “Edward Kaspbrak!” his full name would do it, and did. His pace became sloppy and he stopped, turning around to look at you. You stopped breathless at least eight feet apart from him, and the upset way he looked at you broke your heart in half.

“What? Yes, y/n, it’s true. I’m a fucking virgin and I didn't fuck Greta at the homecoming! I left her in her car and ran away! Happy?”

You frowned and shook your head. “No... I... To hell with Greta! What the fuck is happening to you?”. Eddie breathed out. "Nothing.”

“I swear I’m gonna hit you...” You muttered. “You can’t even look me in the eye, Eddie. It’s been like that since...”

”Since you s-saw me touching her.” You heard Bill’s voice cut you off from behind you. And he was there, looking at Eddie severely as he approached both of you.

Eddie looked cornered somehow, and Bill didn’t want to turn things worse, so he also stood a few feet away from you. Not touching or anything. Eddie’s big brown eyes ran from you to Bill repeatedly and you saw his cheeks became flushed, although his jaw was clenched. “You’d not... It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, yes. What was that? Did you... Did we gross you out that bad?” You grew the courage to ask. “No!” He denied it in a millisecond. “You didn’t gross me out, neither of you did...”

“So what w-was it, Eddie? You c-can tell us anything, and you k-know that” Bill wooshed.

Eddie sighed and shook his head. “I just... I’m sorry. What I saw in the kitchen, it was... Overwhelming”.

You raised a brow. “Overwhelming?”

“Yes,” he continued, talking fast as he always did, but in a low and mushy tone. “I don’t know why, but it was, I mean... I...”

“E-Eddie?” Bill encouraged.

“I have feelings for you!”

Eddie said that with his doe eyes looking directly into yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “I always had, y/n... I don’t know why. I’m sorry, Bill.” he whined.

The three of you remained silent for a while. You ruminated all of that, thinking about what Bill told you in his room days before. “I-I already k-knew it, Eds.” Bill’s voice sounded calm, but you didn’t look at him. You looked back directly at Eddie. “It’s not like I’m jealous of you guys, really. I was and am happy you are together because you love each other. And I love both of you. Please, Bill, don’t be mad.”

You looked for Bill’s reaction and caught him shrugging slightly. “It’s okay, E-Eddie. It really is...”

Bill was never too jealous of you. Of course, his dominant traces would make him act up when guys hit too hard on you, but he never seemed to care about Richie’s jokes, or about how close you were to the other Losers. He was very protective, but not jealous. Maybe that was why he was so cool about it while you were panicking?

He was just standing there, hands on his pockets. You were absolutely weak for the way he most of the time looked so put together although the world was falling apart, but sometimes his bravery turned into some dangerous lack of rational fear. Like now.

“I wasn’t grossed, nor jealous, I promise. I’m sorry, y/n.”

Your eyes ran back to Eddie and his fists had relaxed, his lips parted. You could clearly see his freckles over his blush and that, somehow, gave you butterflies inside. He didn’t have his fanny packs anymore, but seconds before you swore he could draw his inhaler out of his front pocket any time soon. Now he just seemed pacified.

“That’s okay” You assured. “It was not your fault, Eddie” The soft smile he gave you warmed you from the inside and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“You b-b-broke down, didn’t you? When you s-saw her that way?” You almost punched Bill for saying that when you were trying to fix things up, but there was no need. Almost immediately, Eddie whispered a soft “Yes.”

"And t-that’s okay. You’re attracted t-to her. I’m cool with it. Y/n?”

Bill called out your name, but you were frozen while your thoughts ran wildly. You out of nowhere recalled things such as your first fall off a bike, and how Eddie took care of the scratches and cuts on your knees and hands. Or how he used to tease your while y’all played chicken fight at the quarry. He didn’t change much from those times. He was about your height now, still all about polo shirts and the warmest eyes you ever saw.

“Me too. Totally.” You mumbled.

Eddie seemed relieved judging by the sweet smile he had on. “Nice...” he said, motioning towards the trail “But I’m gonna head home anyway. It’s getting dark and I swear I’m gonna punch Richie in the face if I see him.”

You all muttered ‘see ya’s, and Eddie turned around and resumed his way through the trail. You cursed under your breath and when you heard Bill laughing by your side, you couldn’t help but shove his arm. “Hey! W-what was t-that?” “You’re laughing!” “C-c-course I am! You should see how p-perturbed you look n-now. It’s k-kinda funny!”

You gave Bill a deadly look, but that didn’t completely stop him from laughing. “C-come on, y/n. I k-know you reciprocate him...”Bill said quietly. You wouldn’t deny it. You couldn’t because your heart was raced after hearing Eddie saying all of that, what meant that denying it you’d be lying to your boyfriend, and you’d never do that. "I love you, Bill” it scaped pass your lips, making him scoot closer. “I k-know you d-do. I love you t-too, y/n. And there’s n-nothing wrong with you b-being attracted to Eddie too.” And you knew he was being honest simply by the way his blue eyes met yours.

What happened in the woods soothed Eddie down and he was finally opened with you and Bill again. Even more, you would say.

You didn’t know why, but now it felt like the three of you shared some kind of bond. You were happy that Eddie was stuck to you again, but you felt kinda troubled, though not in a bad way.

Since that day at the Barrens your mind would throw you images about things you knew you shouldn’t think about. You caught yourself daydreaming sometimes, stuff you considered dirty and beyond limits. You constantly remembered Eddie’s sweet smile or Bill’s hungry looks over you. And, for your disgrace, you started thinking a lot about them together.

You tried to bury it inside you the deepest you could, but even your dreams at night started to create scenarios that’d torment you.

And Bill somehow knew what was going on.

He was the one who always knew how to read you the best and after you were together, he just got deeper under your skin. He saw it all coming since the day in the kitchen, only by the way you worried so much about Eddie rejecting you and him, or by the way you started getting all flustered whenever the three of you would share the backseat side by side in Stan's car and you were too close to both of them at the same time.

That was why he started pushing your buttons here and there to see what you were made of. Casually leaning more against you so you were squeezed between him and Eddie, and playfully joking about the whole situation when you were alone, until the day you were both at your empty house, locked in your bedroom. You were laying down, moaning his name softly while he had two fingers moving inside you and his lips sucking your clit. Bill held you down and still, firmly, with his arm around your hips when he pulled away to look at your spacy pleasured face, fingers still pumping slowly.

“So wet for m-me, love... Bet Eddie would love t-the sweet taste of yours just as m-much I do...”

You looked down at him in astonishment, but your body betrayed you, what made Bill smirk ear-to-ear. “I c-can even feel you tightening around m-my fingers...” “Bill...” you whined. “You’re imagining it n-now, aren’t you? Laying against m-my chest while I hold your soft t-thighs apart for Eddie to lick your p-pretty pussy until you c-cum on his lips...”.

That was too much to take. You could perfectly picture Eddie’s eyes on you, feel how gently his tongue would feel while Bill’s strong hands held you on your place for him. The thought made you go over your edge instantly, and you felt your legs tremble as you came on Bill’s fingers, crying out in pleasure. You felt him chuckling when he started kissing your lower stomach as your climax faded. “What the hell, Bill?!” you panted, hitting his shoulder lightly. “Y-you came so fast to t-the thought, holy f-fuck, y/n...”. You knew he wasn’t angry. He sounded delighted, to be fair, and when he rested his chin on your ribs, looking at you, his cocky smile confirmed that but didn’t keep you from feeling ashamed.

“You’re awful” you mumbled, covering your face with your hands, but he just pulled them way, properly getting on top of you and pinning your wrists down to each side of your head.

“We c-could... Share, you know?” he suggested, raising his eyebrow at you underneath him. “Like Stan s-said.”

You bit down your lip for a moment. “It’d be some huge plumper if I told you I didn’t think about it nor even once.” You said, and Bill’s eyes grew dark. “I f-fucking knew it. You’ve b-been fantasizing about us t-together.” “Yeah.” You went straight to the point because something about him pining you down like that had you completely vulnerable.

“D-do you want it?”

“Yes... Do you?

Bill only grinned and leaned in to kiss you.

As the spring slowly turned into summer, the days were warmer and brighter. On that one, specifically, you were sitting on Bill’s desk in a dark green sundress, shuffling a deck of cards in your hands. Eddie was sitting at the edge of the bed, right in front of you, leaning into an old comic book in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

You could tell he wasn’t actually reading, not when every now and then his head would buck up a bit. You knew he was looking at you from under his lashes. Once your dress ran up your thighs when you sat down, a lot of skin was exposed for him to look at. It was not on purpose, but you didn’t mind fixing it anyway.

It’s not like things between you got much heated after Bill gave you the green light, but you just couldn’t repress your will that much anymore, and neither could Eddie. Nor Bill. The truth is you were already fantasizing about Eddie after the Barrens thing, and now it just exploded inside you, and sometimes you cursed to yourself because all you could think was about being taken by him and Bill on the same bed, at the same time. And you knew Bill shared the idea, he had already shown you that he wanted it as much as you did, teasing you and making up dirty scenarios to torture your imagination.

The problem lied on Eddie.

He was so tense when it came to... Stuff like that. You knew that he probably wouldn’t accept well the idea of the... Sharing. So you kept it to yourself and Bill, although you couldn’t help the mutual staring contest between you and the Kaspbrak boy anymore.

“Okay, Richie’s not c-c-coming.” Bill stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, interrupting the mute sexual tension.

“Holy shit, Eddie, can’t you two just stop with all the bickering already?” you chuckled, placing the cards down by your side, once it seemed like you wouldn’t be able to play with only three heads there. Instead, you grabbed the Coke you were casually sipping on.

“Huh, no!” He sat up straight. “Richie was an asshole saying what he said that day, and I don’t take back the promise of beating him up next time he appears in front of me”.

Bill walked over the chair next to you and sat down kinda sideways, his hand casually resting on your thigh while he still could face Eddie.

“E-Eddie, really. We all d-don’t give a f-fuck about the Greta thing...” Eddie tossed the comic aside, starting to blush. “Yeah? Because it didn’t happen to any of you! Y’all are just outta there, fucking like rabbits”.

You choked on your soda while Bill tilted his head back, bursting in laughter.

“Eddie, dear, really... You didn’t feel like having sex with her, jeez! And you were right in the end. She’s... Greta Bowie.” you puckered your nose.

“I chickened out, y/n!”

“Y-you didn’t desire her. T-that’s okay, Eddie. C-calm down!”

You felt Bill’s hand going further on your flesh, squeezing lightly, and you noticed Eddie’s eyes following his moves for a while, almost hypnotized.

“Eddie?” you called. “It’ll do anytime... Just relax”. He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know...”

Bill relaxed back on the chair. “W-why is that?”

“It’s not like I feel hot for a lot of girls around here, Bill.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours right away, and none of you stepped back this time until he looked at Bill with the same intensity. Bill’s hand drifted dangerously closer to your heat now, lifting your dress all the way up to your hips.

“B-but you do feel turned on b-by y/n” Bill didn’t ask, he stated.

“Yes...” Eddie confirmed.

Bill smirked at you and his hand was out of the game.

“Of c-course, look at her,” he said, softly. “Isn’t she b-beautiful, Eddie?”

You tried to act cool like wetness wasn’t already pooling inside your panties due to the hungry way Bill looked at you. So, you just wrapped your lips around the straw, sipping on your Coke once more. Eddie almost choked when you did.

“Stunning...” he muttered.

“Should see when I f-fuck her senseless on t-t-this desk.” Bill whispered.

Eddie’s eyes trailed down your body now, like you caught him doing so many times before. You knew he desired you, and the growing bulge you could see inside his pants just confirmed the facts.

At your right side, Bill was casually sitting on his chair, smirking and looking from Eddie to you, from you to Eddie.

Right at your front, Eddie seemed to be breathing heavily.

You had a wolf and a lamb. And you fucking wanted both.

So you took your turn. You put the half-empty bottle aside, on the desk, and hopped off it, walking over to the bed, where Eddie was sitting very stiffened. You put each of your knees by his sides, straddling him. You could feel him immediately under you when you settled down on his lap, probably hard and aching judging by the way he whined quietly under his breath feeling your hips against his.

“Eddie?”

“Mm?”

“Let me be your first” you whispered looking at him, faces inches away. “Let us be your first” you corrected, looking now at Bill.

Bill had darkened eyes in arousal watching to that, while Eddie had his hooded ones on you, hands going for your hips. You could spot the difference, Bill’s touch was firm, took you over completely, but Eddie’s was so damn soft like he was deeply afraid of hurting you somehow.

“Do you want that?” He whispered back and you smiled. As an answer, all you did was to let your lips brush against his, a soft peck that was enough to make your heart speed up.

When you pulled away Eddie seemed stunned. Both of you immediately turned for Bill, and he had a blank turned on expression you loved. You could already see the outline of his hard cock inside his pants as he palmed it through the fabric.

“Holy f-fuck.” he mumbled, in pure bliss.

You bit down your lips, or else you’d moan right there to that view of him. And you could tell Eddie felt the same by the way he shifted under you.

Bill got up and walked closer, he pulled back a few hair strands that fell on your face, fingers brushing against the skin of your shoulder like a permission for something. You glanced back at Eddie and he was not able to hold it back anymore.

You melted into Eddie because kissing him felt better than what you thought it’d be. His lips were soft and he kissed you slowly, one hand now running through your hair. You could hear Bill’s groans next to you as he sat down by Eddie’s side and next thing you know is that they were switching places and Bill’s lips were on yours. Eddie was now focused on kissing down your neck, making you shiver as Bill had a hand on your waist and his tongue dominating yours. Soon enough you were down onto the mattress.

You were soaked, and the way they kept exchanging places all over you only made it worse. You had Eddie’s loving kisses, then Bill’s intense ones, then Eddie’s again. That was wrecking your sanity.

You were pressed in between them, feeling Bill grinding against you from behind, and grinding on Eddie’s thigh once he had a leg between yours, his lips now going for your jawline.

“Holyshit, y/n, holyshit...” he kept whispering, what made Bill chuckle against your shoulder when he nibbled there.

You felt your boyfriend’s tentative fingers going for the little tie on your waist that kept your dress around your body, and you quickly made the first move, pulling Eddie’s shirt over his head. Bill somehow managed to untie your dress and it unfolded off you. You shivered under the thin air, and under Eddie’s heart eyes to your now almost naked figure kind of underneath him.

“As I-I said, Eddie,” Bill’s hand now caressed your hips, playing with your panties' waistline, “b-beautiful...”

Eddie breathed heavily and you felt your cheeks burning pleasantly, his eyes running down your body as he pulled some inches away to look better at you.

“Can I touch you, y/n/n?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at how amazed he sounded. “Of course you can, Edward,” you rolled your eyes playfully before taking his hand and guiding it closer. “I want you to.”

You placed his hand in between your breasts and his breath hitched again. Bill moaned quietly, spooning you while watching as his best friend run his touch down your stomach and up again to gently grope one of your breasts.

You reached behind and slid a hand down Bill’s unbuckled jeans, finding him fully hard and, when you wrapped your fingers around him, he groaned again and sought for your touch. You felt him exhaling against your neck when you traced your thumb around his precome wet tip.

Eddie had his attention split between your body and Bill’s probably very pleased expression, and suddenly he leaned in and took a nipple of yours between his lips, sucking it gently. “Fuck, Eddie...” Bill sounded amazed, and all you could do was let out a not-so-quiet moan.

Eddie sucked and licked each of your breasts and you clenched around nothing, that sweet tension building in your lower abdomen. You ran your fingers through his hair and felt the strawberries scent of his shampoo while leaning back to reach Bill’s peppermint tasting lips. Bill pulled your thighs slightly apart, only enough for his hand to fit in between, his fingertips tracing your clothed slit’s contour, making you roll your hips and moan against him.

You had your nails scratching lightly down Eddie’s chest, feeling his lips going further and further, all the way down your chest and all over your belly. The unexpected contact of his teeth on a spot of your waistline made you whimper loud into Bill’s kiss.

“Holy fuck...” you moaned, and Bill grinned, pulling his hand out of the way.

“E-Eddie?” Eddie hummed in response, looking up. “D-Do you want t-to t-taste her?”

“Yes, please... I mean, do you want me to, y/n/n?”

You nodded, unable to form words to his doe eyes looking up into yours, fingers lingering over your underwear as he was dying inside to take them off. He smiled and Bill left his spot, pulling himself to sit up against the headboard. He quickly got rid of his shirt and patted down the place between his legs. You crawled into his arms, falling back against his chest, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. Eddie scooted closer and gently pulled your panties off, then Bill splattered his hands on your inner thighs, keeping them apart so Eddie could lay in between them.

The view alone was enough to make you falter and it just got worse when Eddie immediately leaned down on you, dragging his tongue all the way up from your slit to your clit. You moaned, letting your head fall back on Bill’s shoulder as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck that was enough to weaken your knees. You could hear him hissing lowly, probably eagerly watching Eddie eating you out. You’d eye down at him occasionally, but most of the time you could only close your eyes, feeling that agonizing pressure growing inside of you as Eddie’s tongue and lips worked their way. Bill whispered here and there, telling him to go slower or lighter and you knew the bastard was trying to delay you, instructing Eddie to lick you only enough to make you hover your edge.

“Eddie, please...” you whimpered, looking down at him sucking lightly on your clit. Bill echoed by your ear. “G-go ahead, Eds. M-make her cum.”

He sucked harder, tongue then swirling faster and rougher through your folds. He immediately made you come undone on his mouth, your hands pulling the sheets while Bill shushed you.

“Shit, I want to fuck you so bad...”

You smiled at Eddie’s low muttering, sure you looked pretty fucked out now, still panting and clenching alone.

“Do you want me to ride you, Eds? Just like I ride Bill?” you teased.

He nodded frenetically coming up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself through his lips. You perked up and turned slightly to kiss Bill now.

“Let me suck you too, please?” You begged against his lips. Bill’s blue eyes smirked at you in the dirtiest way that made you bit down your lip. “Always, b-babe.”

You were nervous about that, but the three of you seemed to coordinate just perfectly. Bill stood up by the side of the bed and kept a hand through your hair while you pulled his jeans and underwear down. He kicked them aside as you wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before turning for Eddie.

He laid down next to where you were sitting and got rid of his pants. He looked fidgety when it came to him being so exposed to you and Bill, but when you straddled his hips it seemed to vanish away from his thoughts.

You also expected to feel flustered in the middle of all of that, but it was the complete opposite. You had Eddie under you, his little grunts filling your ears as your pussy brushed against his hard cock, and Bill standing up next you, his thumb contouring your lips right before you suck on it.

You felt amazing.

Bill always made you feel like the most beautiful and desired woman on Earth, but that was different. That was a whole new level.

You slowly lowered yourself on Eddie, guiding him into you and feeling him stretching you out since he was more on the thicker side, while Bill had more length. He howled while every inch of him slid into your warmness, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Fuck, y/n, feeling so good...”

You stayed still for a moment, feeling dizzy and adjusting to him as Bill ran his fingers through your hair. You went for his cock, fingers around its base when you caught his wet tip between your lips, making him groan and throw his head slightly back.

You took Bill deeper into your mouth at the same time you started to softly bounce up and down on Eddie. You didn’t know how, but you managed to set up coordinate paces to please both of them, hearing their groaning and cursing filling the room. The smooth sound of your hips against Eddie’s, alongside the slippery one of you lightly choking around Bill was the most sinful thing you ever heard.

You found out you loved it way too much.

“Such a g-good g-girl, y/n/n. So g-good for us, b-babe” Bill praised, looking down at you fucking one of his best friends. You were clenching so tightly around Eddie, making him moan out loud, grabbing handfuls of your ass as he watched you sucking Bill so skillfully.

Your legs started to weaken, so Eddie thrust up into, and you suddenly reached your high again. You moaned around Bill’s cock and the way he kept his hips from thrusting into your mouth was enough for you to know he was holding himself back. Eddie, on the other hand, kept fucking into you through your peak and a few moves later, when you pulled away from Bill for a sec, he released inside you. Eddie’s eyes shut closed as he came, his lips parting while you still moved your hips slightly around.

"Holy fuck, holy fuck...” he kept humming.

You looked up at Bill and no words were needed. You slid down to Eddie’s side just for Bill to come for you, pulling your legs up and apart, pressing your thighs against his chest while the slid into you giving no time for adjustment. You still felt Eddie’s cum inside when Bill started to pound against, hard and deep, making you whimper due to how sensitive you felt now.

Didn’t take long until you earned yourself another orgasm, this time around Bill, just a few thrusts before he groaned loudly and pulled off, coming all over your thighs. All of that while Eddie still breathed heavily by your side and grinned at both of you. Your whole body trembled when Bill left you and fell onto the bed. The three of you just stayed like that, laying side by side, panting and occasionally cursing under your breaths.

“Y/n/n, are you okay?” You heard Eddie whispering by your left.

You couldn’t help smiling to the ceiling hearing the sweet worried tone of his.

“Totally okay, Eddie Spaghetti.” You answered, and Bill laughted by your right side. “What about you? Are you okay?”

You tilted your head just in time to see him rolling his eyes at the nickname he hated so much, but still, he smiled back at you.

“More than okay. Bill?”

You turned at him now, and he had his eyes closed and a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Am-m-mazing.” he said, peacefully.

You chuckled at his expression and sat up, looking around for your forgotten dress and underwear. “W-what are you d-doing?” Bill mumbled and you recognized the sleepy post-sex tone of his. “Gotta clean up, I'll be right back.”

You grabbed your clothes and walked over to the door. You peeked outside for a moment, but the quiet hallway indicated the house was still empty, so you made your way to the bathroom. You didn’t mind closing the door while you leaned back against the sink and cleaned Bill’s cum off your inner thighs with a smirk on your face, trying your best to pull yourself together even if you still felt Eddie’s inside you and your legs trembled way too much.

You slid your panties on again and put on the dress again, tying it tightly around your waist. When you turned to face the mirror, you had messed up sex hair, kiss-bruised lips, red cheeks, and some slightly red marks all over your neck and chest that you couldn’t tell who they belonged to.

“D-did we mess you up t-t-too much?”

Bill appeared at the doorway when you were running your fingers over a fresh hickey right under your collarbone, pulling his shirt down his head, pants on again. You smiled softly, approaching him.

“Just the perfect amount.”

Bill smiled down at you, pushing back some hair strands of yours before kissing you softly, just the way he’d kiss you after you two had pretty rough sex. When you parted away, Eddie was leaving Bill’s bedroom, buckling his pants up, his whole face still red.

He looked up at you and Bill, and you all stared at each other for a while, before bursting in laughter. You went for him and said nothing before scooting closer and kissing him too, a sloppy kiss while he smiled against your lips, hands on your waist.

When you pulled away, he scratched the back of his head, looking even more flustered than before, but blissful.

"Y'all swear the others won't hear about what happened here." He said.

"Never!" You and Bill answered in unison and he went ahead. "It'll b-be our secret, E-Eds."

That made your grin mischievously at both of them, already very fond of the soreness you were feeling between your thighs cause you knew you'd feel it more from that day on. You walked past Bill, to the stairs, your stomach roaring lowly.

You could hear Eddie muttering to Bill as they followed you downstairs. "Although I'd pay to see Richie's face if he heard about our Sharing."

#it imagine #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it smut #bill denbrough fic #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #eddie kaspbrak fic #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak smut #the losers club imagines #the losers club x reader #bill denbrough x reader x eddie kaspbrak #the losers club smut #beauregardwrites

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mirukunofuwa · 4 years

Text

Red String of Fate (part 1)

Ok so I was gonna have this be one mega fic, but online class things happened and I haven’t had the time to write any more of this >.> Part 2 will hopefully be up next week!

Based on a request from @shycoffeeparadise :3

Izuku Midoriya x Katsuki’s Sister!Reader WC: 2.4k Warnings: Something that appears to be unrequited love & rejection, Kacchan doing a lot of swearing, soulmate au

When you were a child, you had heard the story of the red string of fate; an invisible tether that connected you to your true beloved. It ensured that no matter what, the two of you would come back to each other.

You were 5 years old when you first heard it from one of the older kids that lived in your apartment complex. Upon hearing it, you had proudly declared that you shared a string with ‘Zuku-chan’, your neighbor that you tried to spend every waking hour with. This announcement was met with disdain from your older brother of two years, who delivered a smack to the back of your head.

“Why would you want to marry a loser like Deku?” Katsuki had grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared down at you.

“‘Cause I love ‘Zuku-chan!” You pouted, stomping your foot. “He’s gonna be my husband!”

“No way!”

Your vision was blurred as hot tears filled your eyes, and you pushed Katsuki with all the strength you could muster, before running off to sulk on the swings.

“(Y/N)-chan?” Came a familiar, comforting voice as Izuku climbed into the swing next to you. “What’s wrong?”

“K-Kacchan was b-being mean!” You managed to whimper out, wiping at your eyes and nose.

Izuku took your hand and squeezed it, giving you a bright smile. “It’s alright, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Kacchan didn’t mean to make you upset!”

You sniffled and nodded, getting off the swing to give Izuku a hug, which he returned. “Thank you, ‘Zuku-chan…”

Neither of you noticed Katsuki glaring at you from his spot with his friends, before storming off, telling his companions that he didn’t want to be around his “loser sister” anymore.

From then on, your love for Izuku was cemented, much to Katsuki’s chagrin. He’d have to pull you away from following Izuku around like a lost kitten, firmly reminding you that he was in charge of you, and he said you couldn’t follow “stupid Deku” around. You hated when the two would go off to middle school, and you had to stay at your elementary. You would walk with them for as long as possible, before Katsuki would flick your forehead and tell you to “go to your own damn school”. You would, but not before giving a hug to the both of them. You always made sure to hug Katsuki first, but Izuku would get a much tighter squeeze.

In middle school, you hung off the two older boys whenever you could, usually during lunch and after school. Katsuki would always shake you off, taking a different route to leave you and Izuku behind. While you would’ve loved to have your big brother there with you, you would always cherish the time alone that you had with Izuku.

You had been rehearsing your confession to Izuku for the whole year, finally working up the courage the evening after a school festival. The two of you were walking home as usual, but something about the sunset over the city skyline, and the way Izuku swayed and hummed some of the music you heard at the festival told you that now was the right time.

“‘Zuku-chan… Do you want to go to the park? It’s just a few blocks away.”

“Are you sure, (Y/N)-chan? It’s getting late…”

“I’m sure. I… I have something I want to tell you.”

“Oh… a-alright!” He gave you a grin, following you to the park.

The two of you found yourselves at the edge of a duck pond, watching the water ripple in the wind. You sat down on the grass, prompting Izuku to sit beside you.

“So…” Izuku started, fidgeting with his pencil. “What did you want to tell me?”

You tried to say something, wanting to tell him how you felt, but the words wouldn’t come. Before you could even think, you were surging forward and pressing a kiss to Izuku’s lips, before quickly pulling away.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a bright red face, and emerald eyes blown wide in surprise.

“I… I…” Izuku stuttered, then scrambled to stand up. “I need to go!”

Before you could say anything, Izuku was running out of the park in a panic, leaving you to stare after him.

It took all your strength not to cry on your way home. The ambient sounds of the city were uncomfortably loud without Izuku to talk to you; buses and trains drove by, people chattered idly, dogs barked, but the most deafening was the absence of your friend’s excited prattling.

When you got home, you didn’t say anything to your parents that were watching a movie on the couch, nor to Katsuki in his room. You knew if you opened your mouth it would come out as a sob.

Once your door was slammed shut and you had flopped face-first onto your bed, you finally let loose. Your entire body trembled with your sobs, and your pillow was quickly dampened by your tears. It didn’t last long, though, and you simmered down to pathetic sniffles in a matter of minutes.

Once your cries had quieted, there was a gentle knock at your door, and Katsuki’s muffled voice came through. “Hey, (Y/N). Can I come in?” When you didn’t respond, he opened the door and stood beside your bed with his arms crossed. “Mom told me to check on you.”

You finally lifted your face from your pillow, cheeks patchy red and eyes welling with tears once more.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

When you responded with silence, Katsuki gave an exasperated sigh before sitting down on the bed. “Fine, idiot. Don’t tell me.”

You paused for a moment, before finally mumbling out. “I… Izu…”

Katsuki seemed to perk up at the mention of his rival. “What did the bastard do?!”

“I… I w-wanted to tell him I l-liked him so I… I k-kissed him and he r-ran away…”

Katsuki’s fists clenched together while he tried to maintain his relative sense of calm. “Well I could’ve told you how bad of an idea that was, dumbass!”

“I d-didn’t know what to do!” You sobbed again, fat tears pooling in your eyes once more.

“What you should’ve done is not fall for fucking Deku in the first place.” He growled, unable to help the tiny popping sounds that came from his palms. His expression softened a little when he saw you trying to wipe away your tears with your sleeve. “...you want me to go beat the shit out of him for you?”

“N-no…”

“Damnit.” He huffed and flopped back onto the bed, staring at your ceiling. “I’m still gonna make sure he stays away from you. He doesn’t even deserve to see you if he’s gonna hurt you like that.”

“Thank you, Katsuki…”

“I have to do this, idiot. How am I gonna be the number one hero if I can’t protect my own sister?”

You tried to tune Izuku out throughout the rest of your middle and high school career, but it was near impossible when he seemed to constantly be by your brother’s side. What made it worse was that he was flaunting his quirk, a quirk he only ever revealed once he stopped being your friend.

Had he been lying to you to make you feel better about your own lack of a quirk? Part of you questioned why he would do that if he didn’t love you, but you suppressed that thought immediately. He just didn’t want you to feel alone, that’s the kind of person he is.

You still couldn’t avoid him when you graduated from UA’s general ed course, not when you wanted to be a reporter. Deku was all the public ever wanted to hear about, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give the people what they want.

You’d constantly find yourself at the scene of his latest escapade, praying that some other reporter would get to him first just to give you an excuse to talk to someone else. When you were unlucky enough, he’d give you a friendly smile, but he never talked about anything other than the task at hand.

At least he was professional about it.

Aside from having to see your childhood crush, you were living pretty well. You always had something to write about, being Ground Zero’s “favored reporter”, and you got exclusive access to many events that were for heroes and their guests only.

That was how you ended up at this exclusive party. The press weren’t technically allowed, so you weren’t able to take notes or pictures, but it was a good experience anyway. You didn’t know what you were expecting when Katsuki had texted you asking to be his guest, but you were pleased to find that it was a relatively run-of-the-mill formal gathering.

The mayor’s penthouse apartment was packed with pro heroes that you recognized from the field, some of them recognizing you in turn, making jokes about reporters not being allowed. You still hung around Katsuki and Eijirou, who was likely Katsuki’s preferred plus one, but he was going to be at the party anyway.

You knew Katsuki could’ve just come alone and met up with Eijirou, so you were thankful that he brought you along.

Mostly thankful.

You couldn’t help bumping into Izuku, because of course the friendly bastard was going to say hello to everyone he knew, especially Katsuki.

You tried to busy yourself with your champagne glass while the two exchanged niceties, but held your breath when Izuku turned to you.

“Hey, (Y/N)! How have you been?”

“I’m… good.” You gave Izuku a smile, cursing the butterflies that still invaded your stomach when you made eye contact with him.

“That’s great!” He grinned, and you tried to hold in a sigh of relief when someone else grabbed his attention. “Oh, um… good seeing you!” Izuku gave you one more signature grin before going off to say hello to whoever it was that had called his name.

You could still hear your own heartbeat loud in your ears, fixated on it only until you heard Eijirou’s voice.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

Your brother had his fist clenched in an effort to hide the mini pops sounding off in his palm. “Nothing, Eiji. Could you go get my glass refilled?”

“Oh… y-yeah.” Eijirou nodded and took Katsuki’s glass from him, going off to find a waiter.

Katsuki stared at you for a moment, before sighing. “If you wanna go home, I get it.”

You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You gave Katsuki a side hug, smiling at Eijirou when he got back with his and Katsuki’s glasses filled with wine.

“Everything alright?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You smiled and finished off your own glass, before heading off to get it refilled as well.

The line was fairly long, and you stood behind a sleepy-looking woman, one that you didn’t recognize, probably the guest of a hero.

It wasn’t long before the waiter had to run and get more drinks from the kitchen, bringing the line to a standstill.

“Um… excuse me?” The woman in front of you had turned around, looking a little excited.

“Hi?” You gave her a nervous smile, and she returned with a smile of her own.

“My name’s Naoko, I came with my boyfriend, Hainu.” She nodded towards one of the rookie heroes trying to network with some higher-ups. “Um… this might sound weird, but… have you heard of the red string of fate?”

You felt a pit in your stomach at the mention of the fairy tale, but you nodded. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“Well, I can see people’s red strings, and… it’s probably easier to just show you, yeah?” Naoko took your left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, leaving a bright red lipstick stain. All of a sudden, what looked like a glowing thread wrapped around your pinky, extending across the room and finally ending in a crowd of people.

It was a few moments before your supposed soulmate was visible, the opposite end of the thread tied in a bow around his own left pinky.

The pit in your stomach grew, and you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“I-is everything alright? I thought this would be exciting for you.” You could barely hear Naoko’s voice over the blood rushing through your ears, but you nodded anyway.

“I just… I need to go home.” You quickly turned around, weaving your way through the crowd to find Katsuki. You set your glass down on the side table of the couch he and Eijirou were sitting on, before giving him a teary look. “I’ll see you later, Katsuki. Thanks for inviting me.”

“What happened?” Katsuki’s eyebrows knitted together as he moved to stand up, “Did that asshole say something–”

“No. I’m fine, I just… I need to be alone.” You leaned down and gave your brother a quick hug before swiftly leaving the party, taking the moment of peace in the elevator to gather your thoughts.

You were going to go home, take a nice bath, watch a show, try to forget about this. It would be hard considering the metaphysical string tied around your finger, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

Katsuki had been your ride over, so the trip home was one agonizing train ride. You looked out of place in your formal clothes, and with the streaks of mascara running down your face, but you tried to ignore the looks you garnered.

It wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing in your purse, a text from Eijirou.

-“Hey, everything alright?”

You stared at your phone for a moment before texting back.

-“Yeah, I’m fine.” -“It’s okay if you aren’t. I won’t tell Katsuki. Wouldn’t want him blowing up the party ;P”

You smiled at your phone, thinking for a few moments before responding.

-“Do you have Deku’s phone number?” -“Yeah! Want me to send it?” -“Yes please.”

A few moments later, he sent you the contact.

You typed out your message, letting it sit unsent in the app while you stared at the words. What if he didn’t show up? What if he didn’t actually want to see you, what if he was just pretending to tolerate you in order to save face?

You gathered up your courage and finally hit send, reading over the text and wishing you had said nothing.

-“Izuku, meet me at Watanabe Park by the pond. I have something I want to tell you. –(Y/N)”

#deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha x reader #bnha x you #soulmate au #it's got mentions of my ocs for like two seconds

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ddproductionsw77 · 4 years

Text

I’ll Still Love You

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough, (Mentioned) Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon

Rating: T (Heavily implied sexual content but nothing is actually written about it… Swearing, obviously)

Description: He was going to fail out of college. He just was. Apparently, he peaked intellectually in high school because how else could one explain a valedictorian failing a History quiz? He’d never fucking failed anything in his life... well, in school and now he was going to flunk out of NYU, his dream school. (Eddie is having a hard time adjusting to college life)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by my own total meltdown when I very first started college a couple years back, down to the calling my mother crying multiple times a week HOWEVER, I did know how to do my own laundry ;) PS sorry it took so long, I am having trouble getting back into the habit of writing again so new stories are coming, they will just take awhile.

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Eddie walked numbly back across campus, feeling like he might drop into fetal position or burst into tears at any moment. A lump had formed in the back of his throat about an hour ago and no matter how many time he swallowed, he couldn’t get rid of it.

He was going to fail out of college. He just was. Apparently, he peaked intellectually in high school because how else could one explain a valedictorian failing a History quiz? He’d never fucking failed anything in his life... well, in school and now he was going to flunk out of NYU, his dream school.

Why did he even fucking need history? He was going to be a nurse! Not a fucking museum coordinator! It was entirely unfair!

Reaching his resident hall, Eddie made his way to the stairs, climbing to the third floor and starting down the long hallway toward the end. He was going to fail history and that would just be the start because obviously he had always only been high school smart not college smart and it was only going to get worse. Soon the grades in his other courses would start coming back too. Fail, fail, fail!

Reaching his dorm, Eddie choked out a sob he’d been holding back since leaving the fucking sciences building — history wasn’t a fucking science... was it? Well how would he know? He was fucking failing it — and used his key to unlock the door.

Darting his eyes over to the other side of the room, he found it mercifully empty. Dropping his backpack to the floor uncharacteristically messily, Eddie crept into his bed and curled up beneath the covers as tears burned his eyes.

He’d made a mistake.

His mother was right, he should have never left Derry. He might as well pack it all up now and go home. He eventually would have to soon enough anyway, wouldn’t he?

Letting out a mournful moan, he remembered that he’d fucked Richie over as well, hadn’t he? He’d practically fucking forced his boyfriend to follow him to New York and now he couldn’t crack it and Richie... Richie was doing a million times better than him. Richie had already fucking joined a damn band with Mike and was as far as Eddie knew, was at least passing his courses even though he skipped half the time. And Richie hadn’t even wanted to come to New York!

Richie had wanted Los Angeles and Eddie hadn’t and now it was becoming incredibly fucking clear that Eddie should have just let his boyfriend go because apparently there was nothing for him here in New York.

Gipping his comforter, Eddie putted it up over his head and thought for one fleeing moment that he should call his mother. His mother had told him something like this would happen. She’d said he needed her, that he couldn’t succeed on his own, that he was setting himself up to fail by leaving her. Everything she’d said was coming true, wasn’t it?

Peeking out from the covers, he spied the phone sitting on his desk. All he had to do was get up, walk over to it and dial and he knew Sonia Kaspbrak would be there to take him back home to Derry within three or four hours but…

Richie.

Richie was here now. Here because Eddie had made him come and Richie wouldn’t stay if Eddie left and maybe Eddie was apparently an idiot when it came to history, but even he knew that Richie shouldn’t leave New York. He was doing too well here. Flourishing here. Eddie couldn’t ask him to give all that up, not after he’d already spent his budget of selfishness allowed in a relationship on getting Richie to NYU in the first place.

The door to the dorm opened as Eddie was still staring at the phone. He glanced over to see Bill, who was his roommate for the year — if he didn’t flunk out that is — striding in. He paused, looking over at Eddie with his eyebrows scrunched together. He reached over and flicked on the light.

Bill sighed, coming in and hanging up his backpack, “I—is there a reason your j—just sitting in the dark alone?”

Eddie groaned, falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling, fighting back the fresh wave of tears springing to his eyes, “I’m failing history.”

“Okay?” He heard Bill say slowly, questioning, “So?”

“So?!” Eddie cried, sitting up and gaping at Bill, “So, I peaked in high school. I’m going to flunk out and get sent home!”

Bill quickly looked away and Eddie thought he even saw the other boy trying to hold back a laugh. He squawked in disbelief, slamming his hand down on his mattress, crying out, “Bill! This isn’t fucking funny!”

Bill nodded, turning back to him with a schooled expression, “E—Eddie, it’s not even midterms yet. You have p—plenty of time to bring the grade up. Why are you even worried?”

“You know what,” Eddie snapped, glaring at his long time friend, “Fuck you, Bill, that’s why. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He flipped him the bird before falling back on his bed and rolling away from Bill so his back was to him.

After a minute, he heard his roommate muttered, “Didn’t even make f—fucking sense.” Quickly followed by footsteps and the door to the dorm opening. Bill paused for a moment, calling over his shoulder, “I—I’m goin’ across the hall, okay?”

Eddie didn’t answer, burying his face in his comforter as tears pooled in his eyes. The dorm door closed again.

He knew he shouldn’t have be short with Bill, it was himself he was mad at, not his friend. Still, maybe some part of him was angry with Bill, with all the rest of them, even Richie… especially Richie. Why was moving away from home and starting over so fucking easy for all of them? Eddie had spent the last two weeks since term started constantly on the verge of a panic attack and they all seemed fine. Happy even.

New York had been Eddie’s first, hadn’t it? It had been his dream. He had wanted it, worked through all of high school for it both in school and at a job afterwards. He’d fought so hard for valedictorian because valedictorians got full fucking rides and he’d known that was the only way he could really swing NYU. And he’d worked just in case.

And in two weeks he’d managed to fuck it all up. He didn’t even understand how.

He’d studied for that History quiz. Sure, he hadn’t cancelled plans to watch Richie and Mike’s band rehearse to study but he had still studied. He’d even felt good about the damn thing before turning it in… He wondered if his professor had laughed at his confidence later, grading his failure.

There was a loud, hammering knock on his door and he startled.

Sitting up groggily, Eddie glanced at the window and noticed the sky was going dark. He realized, blinking slowly, that he must have fallen asleep. Looking over his shoulder at the door, he called, “Bill, I told you to leave me alone!”

The knocking continued without pause and Eddie groaned, pushing the covers off of himself completely and going to the door, throwing it open, “What do you—“ He stopped short, finding his boyfriend leaning against the door jam, inches from his face with his fist still in the air from his insistent knocking. “…Want?”

Narrowing his eyes, Eddie sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Should’ve known. Only you would be so fucking annoying.”

“Aww, you just say the sweetest things to me, Eds,” Richie shook his head, dropping his hand over his heart before pushing off the door jam and passing Eddie into the room, pecking his temple as he did.

Eddie turned to him, glowering, “I didn’t invite you in.”

“I’m like a vampire,” Richie shrugged, throwing himself down on Eddie’s uncharacteristically messy bed, “You only gotta make the mistake once and I’ll just keep comin’ back.” Leaning back on his arms, he cocked his head at his boyfriend, “You didn’t meet me in the dining hall for dinner.”

“I was tired,” Eddie shrugged, still standing back as he rolled his neck, “And not that hungry.”

Richie nodded, “And then when I went back to my dorm, Stanley had written a B in the corner of the whiteboard on our door.”

Eddie stared at him blankly, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Richie smirked, playfully raising his eyebrows suggestively, “It’s our code. When we got someone in the dorm and the other isn’t supposed to interrupt, we write B or E. Well, He writes B for Billiam and I write E for my Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie shook his head, “Well, I guess it’s classier than a fucking sock on the door.”

“That’s almost exactly what Stan said when I suggested we just do that,” Richie laughed and sat up, “My point is that if Bill’s in my room and you skipped dinner, that means you’re just sitting in here all alone. I came to keep you company.”

“Ever consider I just want to be left alone?” Eddie grumbled, going to sit at his desk.

Richie watched him, cocking an eyebrow, “Please, like your day doesn’t brighten every fucking time you see me, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie snapped and spun around in his chair to glare at his boyfriend, “And if I wanted to see you, I’d have met you at the dining hall.”

“Ouch…” Richie muttered, dropping his smirk, “Okay? Why are you pissed at me?”

“I’m not!” Eddie shook his head angrily and turned around again so his back was to his boyfriend, “I just— I told you, I wanted to be alone.”

“Okay but alone doesn’t usually count me, too,” He heard Richie argue and the sound of his mattress springs shifting as Richie stood up. He felt his shoulders slump and put his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose before whirling around.

“Rich! Wait!” He called out, dropping his hand.

Richie turned around and gave him a look. Eddie knew he didn’t like being sent away which was one of the reasons Eddie very rarely did, at least not for real. He got mad sometimes and he told Richie to fuck off sometimes but he never meant it… Usually he was just upset with himself, like now.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sighed, shaking his head and looking at his feet, “I’m not pissed at you. I’m not… I just had a really shitty day and— and I’m failing history.”

He felt tears prickle in his eyes again and swallowed hard, cringing at himself. He could almost hear Henry Bowers voice in his head, mocking him. Girly boy gonna cry? You gonna cry, girly boy? Well, don’t get your fairy dust on me, freak.

He felt a hand run down his arm and watched Richie’s familiar fingers tangle together with his. Following the arm back to it’s source, he gave his boyfriend an embarrassed, bashful look and sighed, “I’m failing, Richie.”

His boyfriend sighed and gripped his hand tighter, “Get over here, Eds.”

He pulled Eddie to his feet and lead him to the bed, where Eddie fell into Richie’s arms. He hurried his face in Richie’s chest and breathed in that scent of nicotine, mints, and maybe just a touch of cologne—not particularly good cologne but still instantly Eddie’s favorite. The weight in his chest seemed to lighten there with his boyfriend on his bed, like breathing in Richie’s scent was some kind of natural inhaler to him, opening his lung back up.

“You’re not failing, Eddie,” He felt as much as he heard Richie mumble into his hair, “One bad grade, does not a failure make. Trust me, I know a thing or two about failing. You’re going to make it up.”

“It’s not like I thought it would be,” Eddie admitted, happy to still be face-to-chest with Richie and not have to look into his eyes.

“What’s not?” “New York,” He sighed, “College. Living on my own. Any of it. I just— I thought I’d be good at it and I’m just not.”

Richie sighed and moved down to that he was looking into Eddie eyes, their noses nearly brushing. He could feel Eddie’s warm breath on his lips. Blinking slowly, he reached down and laced his fingers with Eddie’s again, bringing them up to lay between their chests. He watched Eddie’s eyes fall to them and smiled just a bit to himself, “What the fuck do you mean, Eds? You’re doing fine.”

“Richie, I’ve called my mother three times this week and it’s Tuesday,” Eddie shook his head and closed his eyes, “I’m failing history even though I’ve been studying like crazy, I haven’t talked to a single person beside the Losers since we moved here and I’m running out of clothes because I can’t fucking figure out how to use the damn washing machine. I fucking suck at this and it seems so easy for you and Bill and everyone else! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” Richie instantly argued, gripping Eddie’s hand more tightly and startling his boyfriend’s eyes back open, “Nothing is wrong with you. You got this, baby,” Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes flickered back up to meet Richies, “And you don’t need your crazy ass mother to make this work, okay? Cuz the Losers are here and I’m here… And I can teach you how to do your laundry.”

There was a moment where they were both quiet before both breaking into laughter together. Eddie pulled his hand away from Richie, hooking it around his boyfriend’s neck and pulling him forward for a long, deep kiss. Locking his fingers in Richie’s hair, he pulled himself forward with the only thought on him mind being to get closer. He felt Richie’s teeth brush, teasingly, over his lip before biting ever so lightly.

Gasping, he twisted around to straddle his boyfriend and pulled back to look down at the beautiful, perfect mess of a person below him. Fuck, no one else was every going to make him feel like Richie did. No one else was ever going to make his heart race like him or drive him insane like him or challenge him everyday to keep trying like him.

This was love.

This was the stuff that people more talented than he was wrote songs and poems and books about and it was everything to him in that moment. If there was a world where he had to live and function without this, without Richie... that would be one dark, dark place.

Still out of breathe, pupils blown and heart pounding, Eddie gripped his boyfriend’s shirt and barely whispered, “I love you. I really, really do.”

Richie looked up at him with an expression Eddie couldn’t quite place but supposed it could be filed somewhere under utter devotion and nodded, “I love you, too…” His lips curled into a smirk, “Any chance we can have sex before we do the laundry thing, though?”

Eddie laughed, looking away and shaking his head before meeting his boyfriend’s eyes again, lacing their hands back together on their side of Richie’s head, “I think the laundry can wait… Not like it’ll take that long.”

“Damn, that was cold,” Richie gasped in mock pain, squeezing Eddie’s hand tight before flipping them over so that he was on top, “I’ll show you how long it can take.” _____________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, a freshly showered Eddie and Richie made their way into the muggy laundry room on the ground floor of their resident hall. Richie was carrying Eddie’s hamper and trailing along after his boyfriend, who was carrying the detergent and fabric softener. Scanning his eyes over him, Richie sighed, “Maybe we don’t need to wash your clothes, Eds. I’d be okay if you just wore those shorts for the rest of ever.”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth,” Eddie rolled his eyes, peeking over his shoulder at he set his stuff down and made sure the room was entirely empty out of habit, “Besides, there is literally no way you are still horny after the last few hours.”

Richie grinned, setting down the hamper to wrap his hands around Eddie waist from behind, “Baby, I’m eighteen and a guy; I’m always horny.”

Eddie elbowed him, “Get off me, Perv. We have shit to do.”

“Fine!” Richie exclaimed dramatically as he stepped away, rubbing his ribs where Eddie had gotten him. “So, we need quarters.”

“No shit, huh,” Eddie said in a deadpanned voice.

Richie’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me to teach you how to be a grown ass man but—“

“I literally would never ask you to teach me that—“

“—If you’re all good in here, I’ll just head back to my dorm—”

“—I’m barely asking you to show me how to work these dumb machines—”

“—If it’s so dumb, then I’m sure you can figure it out—“

“—Stop being a dumbass, Richard—“

“—Richard?! Richard?! Fuck you, Edward!”

A buzzer sounded, startling both of them.

Sighing, Richie pulled a quarter from his pocket and flipped it to Eddie, who caught it. Glancing down at the coin, he gave him a begrudging smile, “Thanks, Richard.”

Richie rolled his eyes, a smile falling upon his lips as he moved forward to grab the hamper filled with clothes, “Okay, now pick a machine, Spaghetti Man.”

After they loaded the clothes, Richie fell into place behind Eddie with his hand on his hips as he murmured instructions in his ear. Eddie let him, half deciding it was probably all harmless anyway and half convincing himself that nobody else would be doing their laundry at 11 o’clock at night. Tangled up like that, Eddie put in the detergent and softener and set the machine to the right cycle.

Once the wash started up, he turned around to be nearly nose-to-nose with Richie, a pleased smile on his face, “I did it!”

“That you did, Eds, I told you that you didn’t need your hag of mom,” Richie grinned, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck and kissed him back for a moment before pulling away and whispering, “Thank you… seriously.”

“It’s just part of the boyfriend job description, baby. All good."

“Still...” Eddie sighed, absentmindedly playing with Richie’s hair, “I’m still failing History.”

Richie rolled his eyes before ducking and kissing Eddie, hard and quick, effectively taking his breath away before pulling away, “Yeah, well, I’ll still love you if you have to retake dumbass History.”

“How noble of you,” Eddie’s lips twitched as he peered up into Richie’s eyes through his eyelashes. “Probably one of the things that make me like you so much... even though you’re fucking horny and annoying eighty perfect of the time.”

Ignoring him, Richie kissed him again, holding him against him.

#reddie #richie x eddie #stan x bill #the losers club #the losers of '89 #the losers of 89 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #college fic #it (2017)#it chapter two #bill denbrough

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maggotzombie · 4 years

Text

LIEBE LIESE: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪᴠ – 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈

→ CHAPTERS LIST — CHAPTER III: HONEY LIPS WORD COUNT: 7,5k A/N: The overdue chapter is here (and several hours later than promised). I want to apologize once again for delaying it so much. I have this chapter planned in my head since I first started writing this fic but I couldn’t bring myself to write it for some reason. This is basically a get to know character, hope y’all like it.

HENRY TAKES a deep breath as he slowly wakes up and her scent fills his nostrils. He rolls to his back and, with his eyes still closed, he instinctively reaches out for the warmth of her body but the other side o the bed is empty, cold even, making his eyes snap open right away. Liese isn’t snuggled up in a very small space in the mattress like he wanted to, he’s alone.

Sunlight pours into the apartment heavily, the thin white drapes doing nothing to block it. As his eyes scan the vast open space, Henry is disappointed to not find her hourglass-shaped body anywhere.

He sits up. “Liese?” The man calls, his voice filling the space and bouncing back to him.

No response.

Sighing, Henry clenches his jaw and pushes the covers away from his lap before standing up. At the chair by the corner of the shelving, his clothes are neatly folded, the black boxer briefs on top of the pile. He then notices the blue slip of paper above it.

Without a second thought, he picks it up.

Hi, handsome.

Good morning! Sorry I’m not there. I have to go to work and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. You looked so heavenly sleeping. I’ve made you breakfast, hope you like it. It’s in the microwave and there’s coffee on the pot. You can leave my keys with Mr. Ferris at the front desk, he’s trustworthy ;) Can’t wait for our date tonight!

P.S.: I really hope you understand my handwriting because doctors really suck at it and I tried really hard. If not, you’ll find a text in your phone saying the exact same thing :p

Liebe, Liese xo

Henry smiles, still staring at the piece of paper. Her handwriting is really difficult in some parts, especially when e’s looks like i’s and o’s like a’s. But he did understand it and now he couldn’t stop smirking like an idiot.

* * *

Liese rests her chin on the heel of her hand, looking at her friend. “This is a power couple right here, I’m telling you,” Sierra states, holding her phone out to the others.

They have been discussing the success of this year’s benefit gala for the last ten minutes and now the subject is the silver-haired woman. The official photos of the event are circulating the internet and this is totally normal, considering the celebrities that have attended it. But her friends are way more interested in her photo with a certain actor.

“This is like the Queen B and Jay-Z of white people,” Her friend continues, making people laugh.

“That’s Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie,” Kelsie points out.

“They aren’t married anymore,” Sierra makes a face, shaking her head.

“We also have different lines of work,” Liese says. “Beyoncé and Jay-Z are musicians while Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are actors.”

“Girl, I don’t care about that,” Her fellow doctor looks at her like she’s demented. “The point is that beautiful babies would come out of you with this much good genes.”

The woman laughs, shaking her head and standing up. “Great time to start doing our rounds, huh?” She says, walking away.

“We’re continuing this later,” Sierra says, walking beside her.

She shakes her head. “Nope, we’re not.”

They focus on their patients and each visit takes its own time as they pay very close attention and listen to everything they have to say, also making conversation other than the routine questions. Liese gets a text from Henry in-between visits and she replies to him quickly with a smile on her face while walking towards the next room.

Right away, the woman notices something’s off with the little girl they’re visiting. She doesn’t make eye contact with both doctors; her replies are single-worded and her mother does almost all the talking. While she desperately wants to engage in a conversation with her and find out exactly what’s bothering the girl, Liese needs to see other patients as well. So, she returns to her room after she finishes the rounds with Sierra.

A soft knock on the doorway has the two occupants looking at her. “Hey, I’m back,” She smiles softly. “So, I’ve noticed someone is a little upset today,” Liese starts. “And I was thinking: ‘What would I do if I was feeling down?’” She taps her index finger on her jaw, looking up as if in thought. “Then, I remember. Chocolate, obviously!” The woman shakes her head. “So, I went to the vending machine and got this for you,” She slowly reveals the candy bar, finally walking into the room. The little girl beams at her immediately. “But you shouldn’t eat all at once,” The doctor suggests, sitting on the bed and offering her the bar.

“What do we say, honey?” Her mother asks, sitting in the armchair next to the bed.

“Thanks, Dr. H,” Carol says quietly.

Liese smiles fondly at her. “You’re welcome, love,” She says.

Most of the kids call her “Dr. H” because it’s harder for younger ones to say “Hartmann”.

“Dr. H, can I ask you something?” Carol looks up at the doctor, completely ignoring the candy.

She tilts her head slightly. “Sure.”

“Can I braid your hair?” The little girl asks out of the blue.

“My hair?” Liese frowns, taken aback by the sudden request.

“Yes,” She nods. “Your hair is very pretty,” She praises and the frown on the doctor’s face just deepens.

“Well, thanks. But where have you seen it?” She asks.

Liese’s go-to hairstyle for work is a simple bun. It’s practical because it keeps her hair out of her face when she needs to run around the ED and it’s sanitary because, well, she works in hospitals. It’s also very appropriate in a working environment. So, she is utterly confused by the girl’s statement.

“On your Instagram,” Carol replies like it’s obvious.

She immediately panics inside, wondering how many of her patients check her social media.

“Oh,” Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline before she frowns slightly again for a second before snapping out of it. “Okay, sure. But I only have one hair tie,” She points out.

“It’s fine, turn around,” The little girl says excitedly, sitting her chocolate bar to the side.

Liese glances at her mother who shrugs off with a smile before she turns around. She pulls her hair out of the bun and down her shoulders, combing it slightly with her fingers and smoothing down the roots. Carol’s eyes shine in excitement as the silver locks pour down Liese’s back. Then, the doctor rests her hands on her lap, waiting for Carol to start braiding and she does so after shyly asking permission to actually touch her hair.

“It’s so smooth,” Carol beams, running her little finger through her hair. “And shiny!”

“Do you know why I dyed it?” She asks, trying to access how much stalking the girl did on her Instagram.

“Because you lost a bet with Otto,” She replies, starting to braid the right side of her hair.

Liese chuckles, amused by her calling her brother by the name but also concerned. “Yes, you’re right.”

“Who’s Otto?” Her mother asks, frowning.

“He’s Dr. H’s little brother,” Carol explains.

The expression on her mother’s face is of pure chock as Liese nods slightly. “Guess I need to be very careful of what I post, huh?” She muses, trying to make less of the awkward situation.

“And I should start monitoring what this young lady is doing online,” The woman replies, giving a pointed look at her daughter.

“Mom!” Carol whines and the doctor chuckles.

The little girl works quickly, tugging and twisting Liese’s hair skillfully. She braids each side, joining both of it on the back of the doctor’s head with an imperceptible knot. Carol easily convinces Liese to let her take photos of the braid with her phone so she could see it.

“Oh my God,” The doctor says, truly surprised by the professional-looking braid. “This is so gorgeous, thank you so much, Carol,” She looks at the girl.

She smiles, resting her head on her hands. “I wish I had hair like yours,” Carol confesses dreary.

The look on the woman’s face softens. “Is that why you’re upset, sweetheart?” She asks, turning her whole body towards her and giving her full undivided attention. The little girl shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. “Honey, you don’t have to worry. Your hair will grow back and I bet it’s gonna look prettier than mine,” Liese tries to reassure her.

Leukemia is a real bitch. Like any other type of cancer, it makes you suffer throughout the very brutal treatment. When kids experience it, in Liese’s opinion, it’s even worse. It’s hard to explain to them what’s happening and why they can’t be around so many people like before because their immune system is too compromised.

She shrugs off nonchalantly. “I guess,” She murmurs, her eyes still focused on her fidgeting hands.

“You know what you can do while it doesn’t grow back?” The doctor starts, trying to pique her interest.

“What?” Carol asks, still avoiding eye contact.

“You can wear wigs!” Liese says. “Mel from down the hall says it’s very cool to have a different hairstyle or hair color every day,” She adds. “You should talk to her,” Liese suggests.

Finally, Carol snaps her head up and looks at her mother. “Can we do that?” She asks, excited again.

“Sure,” Her mother nods with a smile.

The little girl looks back at Liese with a huge grin on her face in which the woman corresponds. “Dr. Hartmann to the nurse’s station,” The female voice says on speaker.

“Well, that’s me,” The doctor says, standing up from the bed with her phone in hands. “Thanks for the brai – Oof,” She puffs when Carol throws herself into Liese’s arms, hugging her neck tightly.

“I love you, Dr. H,” The little girl says and it surprises Liese.

She then smiles, hugging her small body. “I love you too, Carol,” She replies. “I’ll check on you later today, okay?”

“Okay,” She nods, sitting back on the bed.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Hartmann,” Carol’s mother says when she reaches the door.

“Sure,” She smiles before finally leaving the room.

While Liese was comforting the little girl, Henry walks into the medical facility. Right after he passes through the front door, he realizes that coming there might not be a good idea after all. He has no clue as to where he can find her and she’s working; he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“Sir, can I help you?” A young woman at the front desk asks, breaking his thoughts.

“Ah, yes, ma’am,” He smiles politely, approaching her. “Do you know where I can find Dr. Liese Hartmann?”

She makes a face. “I don’t, actually,” Then she chuckles. “But if you go to the nurse’s station on the first floor, they can page her,” She says. “Elevators are through there,” She instructs.

“Thank you,” Henry offers a smile.

“Big fan, by the way,” She adds quickly as he starts to move away.

The man’s smile grows wider. “Thank you,” He repeats, finally walking away.

He follows the young woman’s instructions and gets in the elevator to the first floor. The building only has two floors above the ground level but it looks exactly like a hospital. Nurses and doctors are walking around in scrubs, patients and relatives.

Patients. That’s when Henry is sure it wasn’t a good idea to come there. The patients in that facility are kids from two to sixteen-years-old and he’s fucking Superman. Right now he’s just praying they won’t recognize him because it’s gonna be hell to leave if they do.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Henry says when he approaches the nurse’s station. “I’m looking for Dr. Liese Hartmann. The lady at the reception said you could page her from here.”

The woman double looked at him and her jaw dropped while he was talking. They were talking about him just a few hours ago.

“Uh, sure. Yes, I can do that,” She recovers quickly when he stops talking. “One second.”

“Thank you,” He offers her his breathtaking smile and, boy, she could have fainted.

Smiling at him, the usual effect Henry’s charm has on women, she picks up the phone. “Dr. Hartmann to the nurse’s station,” She says over the phone and her voice is amplified by the speakers. “Give her a couple of minutes.”

“Alright. Thank you so much,” Henry replies, smiling at her again.

It’s doesn’t take a couple of minutes, though. The man pulls his phone from his pocket to check a message and a flicker of silver catches the corner of his eye. He looks up to see the gorgeous doctor coming out of a patient room wearing blue scrubs and a lab coat above it. She looks absolutely stunning with her hair down her shoulders in beachy waves and the waterfall braid.

Liese’s eyes go straight to him and she hesitates for a split second, surprised by seeing him there. Then she smiles, walking towards him.

“Mr. Cavill, hello,” She greets him professionally.

He gets the hint and plays along right away. “Dr. Hartmann,” Henry nods, shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you again,” He adds and she offers him a mischievous smirk that only he understands in that way.

“Likewise,” The doctor replies. “I’m very glad you took up on my offer to meet the facilities. Should we talk about the details in my office?” She offers suggestively.

Henry nods. “Lead the way.”

With a smile, Liese motions to the elevators he just came from and they walk towards there ignoring everybody gawking at Henry, especially Sierra who was practically arranging their wedding earlier. The elevator ride to the ground level is silent because they aren’t alone but both of them are trying to hold back the laugh.

The walk to her office has fewer eyes on them but it’s only when Henry sees her name on a door that he smirks. She opens the door for him still in a professional way and he walks in. Liese quickly follows, closing the door and having him on her as soon as it clicks closed.

She giggles with his lips on hers. “Hey,” The woman says, before pulling him down at the neck and kissing him deeper.

“Hi,” He breathes out, a silly grin in his face and forehead resting against hers. “You are gorgeous, by the way,” He praises.

She rolls her eyes, moving away. “I’m literally wearing scrubs,” Liese deadpans.

“It doesn’t matter,” The man smiles, looking at her walk around. “So, I’ve come to drop this off,” He says.

Her keys dangle from his hand and the doctor smiles, leaning against her desk. “You could have left it with Mr. Ferris,” She says as he approaches her.

Henry puts his hands on each side of the table, trapping her against it and his body. “I could,” He leans down and kisses her neck softly. “But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to come see you,” Henry adds, kissing the other side of her neck.

She giggles, taking his face with both hands and kissing his lips. “Did you sleep well?” Liese asks, looking into his eyes. “I swear, you looked so at peace when I left that I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you,” She says.

“I did, actually,” He replies, taking a seat at one of the comfortable chairs in front of her table. “Your mattress is wonderful. It’s like sleeping in a cloud,” He says and the woman chuckles. “Matter of fact, it’s the first time in a very long time that I sleep past nine.”

“Why? Kal doesn’t let you stay longer?” Liese asks with a content smile on her lips.

“Well, that and I just can’t stay in bed at all,” The man nods.

“I can think of ways to make you stay,” She starts and Henry’s eyes darken immediately, looking up at her.

“Hmm, I like where your mind is going,” He says, leaning towards her and reaching his hand to caress her thighs. “You have a nice office,” The man adds but he hadn’t even taken a look around her office. “Tell me, have you ever had some fun in here?”

The doctor smirks, pushing his shoulder back and straddling his lap.

Henry’s hands immediately find her waist. “Not today, Mr. Cavill,” She whispers against his lips. “Perhaps when you come back for your visit to see the facility,” Liese teases with a hand caressing his chest. “Right now, I’m afraid I’m kicking you out.”

He was about to kiss her lips when Liese suddenly stands up, making Henry pout. “Seriously?” He asks, looking up at her incredulously.

“Mmhm,” The doctor hums with a nod. “One of my friends was already naming our children earlier. I don’t want to give them the tea,” She confesses. “But I’m looking forward to our date tonight,” Liese smiles at him.

“I’m looking forward to it, too,” He replies, standing up and bringing her body closer to his with one hand. “Our children, huh?” He says as they part their lips.

Liese chuckles. “Yeah. Apparently, our ‘good genes’ would result in beautiful babies,” She makes air quotes.

“Well, I concur,” Henry nods, making the woman chuckle again.

“Let’s take baby steps, okay?” She says. “The date first.”

“Sure. Pick you up at seven?” He suggests.

Liese nods. “Sounds great,” Then she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his lips while resting both hands on his chest. “Now, allow me to walk you out, Mr. Cavill.”

“Please, lead the way, Dr. Hartmann,” He plays along again, making her laugh in amusement.

She straightens her clothes a little before opening the door and walking out with Henry following. At the door, they shake hands again. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Cavill. I really appreciate your interest,” The doctor says and Henry almost laughs at the real meaning of those words.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll have my manager to call you with a date,” He replies.

“Great. Have a nice day,” Liese smiles.

“You too, ma’am,” The man smiles before walking away.

The woman watches as he walks towards his car and turns her back when he gets into it. Amelie, the young woman at the front desk, has a smirk on her face when Liese looks at her.

“He looks so much more handsome in person, right?” She says, smiling like a real fangirl.

“I’d say so, yes,” The doctor agrees, chuckling at her.

“And he smells so good too!” Amelie adds excitedly.

Now Liese laughs. “Yeah, okay Amelie. If anyone asks for me, I’m in my office,” She says, already walking back there.

She sighs when she closes the door and a silly smile plays in her lips. The keychain sitting in her desk makes her feel like a teenager as she recalls everything that just happened in her office.

But she doesn’t allow herself to keep doing that as she has a lot of work to get done. So, the woman pushes off the door and walks around the desk, sitting behind it. Liese puts her keys into her purse before focusing on the paperwork that needed attention.

That’s when there’s a knock on the door and then Sierra slips right into the room without even waiting for an answer.

“Nooo,” Liese whines, sitting back on her chair and pitching the bridge of her nose.

“Soulmates, you guys are soulmates, I’m telling you!” Her friend starts, taking a seat at the chair Henry was in minutes ago. “You guys look so good together. Brangelina ain’t shit compared to you guys.”

“Sie, I really need to read these,” She points at the documents.

Her friend nods. “I’ll be quick. He’s just so handsome…”

Liese rolls her eyes and sits back on her chair. For the next forty minutes – yeah, that long –, Sierra explains how they’re perfected for each other, even googling Henry to point out things they have in common. Lunchtime is no different, except this time her friend has allies to convince Liese as to why she should ask the actor out on a date.

In the afternoon, the woman has the desired peace she wanted to go through the paperwork carefully. She gets a lot of things done until the time to leave arrives but she actually goes back to Carol’s room. They talk for a while and Liese asks the little girl to teach her how to do the waterfall braid by herself.

Before she could be late for her date, she gets an Uber home. “Good evening, Mr. Ferris. Got anything for me today?” She smiles kindly at the elder man, leaning on the front desk.

“Dr. Hartmann, hello,” He smiles at her. “Just a couple today,” Mr. Ferris says, turning around to the mailboxes. “A very polite gentleman came looking for you last night and I told him your apartment number because he didn’t seem like a bad person to me,” He says calmly as he turns back around towards Liese with her mail. “I hope it’s alright for you. If not, I’m terribly sorry, I-”

The woman interrupts him, shaking her head and resting a hand above his. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Ferris. Really,” She reassures him. “Also, I’m sure you saw him leaving this morning,” She winks at him.

“Well, I’m not one to pry on anyone’s business,” He shrugs off, making her laugh.

“You’re the best, Mr. Ferris,” Liese leans forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much,” She says before moving away.

The elder man chuckles at her. “He seems to be very nice, Dr. Hartmann,” Mr. Ferris adds.

“He is, Mr. Ferris,” She looks back at him. “And you can call me Liese,” The woman smiles.

“Sure. When you start calling me Carl,” He says nonchalantly, smiling at her later.

Liese waves at him before getting into the elevator. She doesn’t bother to check the mail; she simply discards it on the console table by the front door. The doctor goes straight to the bathroom, taking a relaxing shower. Then she applies a face mask and realizes she doesn’t know what to wear.

The woman panics as she stares at her closet. “Hey, gorgeous,” Henry says as he picks up the call and Liese can sense a smile on his face, making her smile as well.

“Hi, handsome,” She giggles, amused by the exchange. “Where are you taking me? I don’t know what to wear,” She confesses. “And don’t worry about ruining surprises, I don’t know many restaurants and I won’t Google it.”

Henry chuckles at her bluntness and she feels a chill running down her spine just by the sound of it. “It’s a place called Clos Maggiore,” He replies.

“Sounds fancy. Okay, I know exactly what to wear. You’ll love it,” She says, picking a hanger and looking at the dress.

“I’m pretty sure I’d love anything you decided on,” The man replies.

Liese snorts. “I wouldn’t be that sure,” She says. “Anyway, I have to get ready.”

“There’s still an hour and a half until I have to pick you up,” He points out.

“Yeah, well. Some of us weren’t born that handsome,” The woman replies. “Plus, I’ll make sure you will need to pick your jaw from the floor when you see me,” She teases.

He chuckles again. “Okay, I’ll let you go then. See you soon.”

“Bye,” Liese blows him a kiss before hanging up.

The woman leaves the dress on her bed and picks a pair of high heel sandals. She also decides on jewelry and then washes the face mask off. Liese decides on a simple makeup and, by the time she’s styling her hair, her phone starts to ring. Propping it against the vanity mirror, she answers the FaceTime call.

“Hey Gustav,” She says.

“Lis, it’s poker night. You coming?” Her brother asks without even looking at her. “Oh wow, you’re all dolled up,” He says, finally looking at her.

She frowns. “It’s Wednesday,” She points out. “And, no, I won’t come. I have a date.”

Gustav laughs right away. “No, you don’t. I don’t believe that for a second,” He says and she rolls her eyes. “What are you really up to?” He asks.

“A date,” The woman insists. “I don’t have time to talk right now. I will call you later if feel like it,” She says, pulling her curling iron down.

“No, don’t hang up. Come to poker nig-” Her brother tries but she hangs up on his face anyway.

She ignores Gustav calling again and puts on the dress, smoothing it on her body while analyzing her reflection on the mirror. Heels, accessories and some perfume later, the woman gathers a few things in a small clutch. When she picks up a trench coat from her closet, Henry sends her a text, letting her know that he’s waiting for her in the lobby.

On my way down.

She replies before shoving her phone into the clutch. Liese dresses the coat and turns off the lights, waking out of her studio apartment. The elevator ride is very quick and, soon enough, she spots Henry’s large form when the doors open. He has his back towards her and turns around when he hears the sound of heels against the floors.

True to her words, Henry has to pick his jaw from the floor when he sees her. The burgundy velvet dress hugs her form perfectly, the deep V neck showing the curve of her breasts. She styled the silver hair with beachy waves, much like he had seen in the morning, looking very natural.

“Y-You’re… Uh… Wow,” Henry stutters as she walks towards him. “You’re stunning,” He manages to blurt out.

Liese chuckles slightly, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, but I don’t believe it,” She says. “You said the same thing when I was wearing scrubs,” Liese explains with a pointed look and he chuckles.

“It’s not about the clothes,” The man replies with a soft look on his face and she almost melts.

“Well, you’re very handsome yourself,” She praises, a hand running under the lapel of his coat.

Henry’s wearing a deep blue three-piece suit with a gray dress shirt, two buttons popped open to reveal some chest hair. On top of that, he has a thick dark coat. His curled short hair falls over his forehead, making him look both adorable and extremely hot. Overall, he could make Liese wet if he smirked at her.

She’s simply glad that she went all the way because she’d feel extremely underdressed if she had chosen something different.

“Thanks,” He smiles at her.

“Looking very good, Dr. Hartmann,” Mr. Ferris says and suddenly Liese remembers him.

She looks his way and smiles. “Thanks, Mr. Ferris.”

“Shall we?” Henry asks and she looks back at him.

“Sure. Good night, Mr. Ferris,” The woman bids goodbye to the elder man.

“See you soon, sir,” The actor says to Mr. Ferris.

“Have a good time,” He wishes.

“Thanks,” The couple replies at the same time.

Henry leads Liese outside with a hand on the small of her back. “This one,” He steers her to a black Bentley, completely different from the SUV he drove her there yesterday.

“Nice car,” She praises as he opens the door for her.

He chuckles. “Thanks,” He says.

The man walks around the car while she buckles the belt. “How many cars do you have?” She asks, looking at him with a smile.

“A few,” Henry shrugs off and she raises both eyebrows. “I like cars,” He says and she chuckles.

“Sure,” She says.

“How about you?” He asks, starting the car.

“As of now, zero,” Liese replies. “The only car I want it’s my brother’s and I haven’t been lucky these last few years.”

“Really?” He glances at her.

“Yeah,” She nods. “I don’t mind taking the tube, in fact, I don’t care at all.”

“You’re very humble, aren’t you?” Henry chuckles.

“I am, actually,” She says. “I appreciate you taking me to this restaurant, don’t get me wrong, but I also could do a pub with oily snacks and a pint,” The man glances at her again with an amused expression. “I was raised with boys,” She shrugs off.

“At least I already know where our second date is gonna be,” He says.

“Oh, honey. You’re so hopeful,” Liese jokes and laughs at his expression.

The ride to Covent Garden is not long but filled with chit chat. Soon, Henry pulls over in front of the restaurant. He leaves the car and quickly makes his way around it to open the door to Liese. He helps her out and offers his arm like a real gentleman.

With arms linked, the couple gets into the restaurant, not before Henry could praise Liese again. “Good evening,” The hostess smiles at them as they approach.

“Good evening. We have a reservation under the name Cavill,” He says.

She nods, quickly typing on her iPad. “Of course, allow me to show you to your seats,” The hostess says, turning around.

The couple follows her into the bar section, the walls covered by green plants, what both amazes Liese and makes her wonder if it’s real. Red leather contrasts with orange wood and brown seats. Two rooms are just like that before they get into a room with cherry blossoms covering the ceiling with twinkling lights intertwined in it.

“Oh wow,” Liese murmurs, looking up at the cherry blossoms.

Henry has to guide her the rest of the way because she isn’t able to tear her eyes away from it. The hostess leads them to a more secluded table but placed in the same gorgeously decorated space.

“May I take your coats?” The woman guiding them asks.

The man nods and then proceeds to help Liese out of her coat. She’s still mesmerized by her surroundings to the point she doesn’t take her eyes away from the ceiling as Henry helps seat down too. He removes his coat, handing it to the hostess before taking a seat across from Liese.

“A waiter will be with you soon,” The hostess says, holding both of their coats. “Have a nice diner.”

“Thank you,” Henry says to the woman and then looks back at his date when she leaves. A smile forms in his lips. “Well? What do you think?” He asks and she finally looks back at him.

“This place is gorgeous,” She says, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you so much for bringing me here,” She adds sincerely and Henry smiles wider.

“You’re very welcome,” He starts. “But it’s not as gorgeous as you are,” The man praises once again.

For the first time since they’ve met, Henry sees Liese blushing. At the moment he opens his mouth to say something else, the waiter arrives at their table. He handles both of them menus and waits for them to decide on what to eat. Henry picks a bottle of wine and the waiter praises his choice before walking away.

“Très bien,” Liese says in French in a joking manner.

He smiles at her immediately. “Do you speak French too?” He asks, teasing.

“Non pas du tout,” She chuckles at her joke and he joins her. “I mean, I can remember bits from school but, fluently, only German and English.”

“When did you move here?” Henry asks.

“I’m British, Henry,” The woman giggles, answering his question. “I did live in Germany for a while when I was a teenager, but I was born and raised in Hampstead,” She explains.

“I’d never know,” He shakes his head slightly. “You very German-looking,” He adds.

“Well, my mother is half German and my father is totally German,” She says. “Granddad married a German lady, had my mom, she met my dad in an exchange program she was doing there. When she came home, he came looking for her shortly after.”

The waiter comes back with appetizers and the wine bottle Henry ordered. “Thanks,” The actor says to him. “Cheers,” The actor raises his wine glass to clink with hers.

“Cheers,” She smiles and takes a sip.

“About your parents,” He continues the conversation. “Sounds like a Hollywood rom-com,” Henry says and then, he leans forward on the table. “While we’re in this topic, I’m intrigued,” He starts.

“Okay,” Liese nods, nibbling on the appetizer.

“Do you know that I’ve played Superman, right?” He asks, frowning slightly while looking at her.

“Of course,” The woman nods again.

“Oh, okay,” He nods too. “It’s just because you’ve never mentioned anything related to it and people usually point it out right away,” He explains.

Liese chuckles at him. “I work with and very close to children, Cavill. I’d consider myself a really bad doctor for not knowing every superhero film, cartoons, and animations,” She says.

“It makes sense,” Henry agrees, chuckling along with her.

“I just never mentioned because I didn’t think it would gonna make a difference. Would it?” She asks, resting her chin on her palm.

“Not at all,” He shakes his head, opening a smile. “I’m glad you didn’t, actually,” He smiles. “So, tell me, how long have you been working at the foundation?”

Liese proceeds to tell him that she’s one of the founders of it, that’s why she’s the head of the medical staff. Angela Davies, the little girl that named the foundation, was the woman’s patient at St. Thomas’ and is in remission to this day because of her efforts along with her friend, Sierra Jones. So, the two doctors and the patient’s father, who happens to be a millionaire, started the foundation to help other kids.

Liese’s phone doesn’t stop ringing into her purse and she finally looks at it when their food arrives. There were three missed calls from Gustav along with a bunch of texts of him whining about her missing poker’s night. She ignores all of it and leaves her phone at the table, focusing back on their meal.

The conversation is very easygoing, but the doctor does most of the talking. Henry is trying to get to know her the best he can. She tells him that she practically has three jobs; the formal one at St. Thomas’ Hospital, at the Angela Davies Foundation and a private practice in which she sees patients at home, usually on her downtime. But she explains that she chose not to get paid for the work she does at the foundation and she’s very proud of it.

“I’m really sorry about this,” She says suddenly, taking her phone off the table after the third buzz.

“If you need to take this, I’m okay with it,” Henry reassures.

“No, it’s fine,” She shakes her head, locking the screen. “It’s just my brother annoying me for not coming to poker night,” Liese waves her hand nonchalantly. “He doesn’t believe I’m on a date,” She rolls her eyes.

The man frowns, pretty sure he had seen the name ‘Gustav’ on the screen. “How many brothers do you have, anyway?” He asks.

“Too many,” She widens her eyes slightly, taking a sip of the wine. “After my parents had my older brother,” The woman starts to explain after seeing his face.

“Anton,” He says.

“No, Wolfgang,” Liese corrects him with a chuckle. “Yeah, well. After they had Wolfie, they wanted a girl but Anton came along. They tried again and had me. It was supposed to be it. However, when I was five, my mother got pregnant by ‘accident’,” She makes air quotes. “Identical twins, Gustav and Otto.”

“No way,” Henry chuckles at said ‘accident’.

“Yeah,” The doctor nods. “So, I have four brothers,” She rests her chin on her palm. “This tends to scare guys away,” She confesses, looking at him.

“Well, not me,” He says with a smile.

She smiles at him too. “How about you?” Liese asks, picking up her fork.

“Oddly enough, I have four brothers, too,” The man replies.

“Any sister?” Now she’s the one with the questions because she genuinely didn’t know anything about him.

He shakes his head. “Only brothers.”

“Oh,” She makes a face. “Your poor mother,” The woman jokes.

Henry chuckles. “She’s a strong woman,” He says, clearly proud of her.

“I bet,” She smiles. “Are you older than the rest?”

“No,” The man shakes his head again. “I have three older brothers; Piers, Niki, and Simon; and one younger brother, Charlie.”

“Well, at least you’re not the one who’s always being compared to the others,” Liese chuckles.

“My family is not like that,” He explains.

“Good. Mine neither,” She sips her wine again.

“What do you mean when you said your brother doesn’t believe you’re on a date?” Henry asks, interested in that.

The woman pauses for a bit, licking her lips. “I don’t… Go on dates,” She replies slowly.

“What?” He laughs in disbelief. “You’re one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen in my life. How come you don’t have guys asking you out?” The man asks, completely dumbfounded.

“I mean, they do,” Liese shrugs slightly. “I just don’t go,” She explains. “My last relationship was… disappointing, to say the least. So, I kinda gave up on that and focused on work,” Liese confesses. “I have a lot of that, anyway,” She chuckles bitterly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Henry says, sounding genuine. “And I hope you didn’t give up on it completely.”

“Well, I’m here, ain’t I?” She smiles at him.

“And I really appreciate it,” He says and gets a wink in response as she takes a bite of the food.

Liese’s phone vibrates on her lap and she has an idea. “This might sound idiotic, but do you mind if I take a photo of you?” She asks out of the blue. “I mean, you handsome as fuck, but I think it’d make my brother shut up,” She explains and he laughs.

“I don’t mind as long as you let me take photos of you too,” He bargains. “I’d love to brag about you to my brothers.”

“Photos?” She raises an eyebrow with a smile. “Well, that escalated quickly. I just need one,” She chuckles, raising her phone towards him. “Give me your best, Superman,” The woman says after taking a few pics of him serious and he chuckles at her words. “Thanks,” She bites her lips, choosing one picture.

“My turn?” He asks, taking his phone from the inner pocket of the jacket.

“Snap away, handsome,” Liese says, cropping the photo so it just shows from his cute chin and below. “Cameras don’t love me as they love you, though,” She smiles, glancing up at him. “I’m not a Hollywood star,” Liese teases him and looks back down at her phone and sending the photo to Gustav.

“I have to disagree on that,” The man says. “You look amazing,” He adds. “But I want you to pose for me, too.”

He’s snapping photos of her since she said he could but she poses to him anyway and he takes quite a few amazing shots. Then, the woman’s phone vibrates on her lap again with a new text from Gustav and she glances down at the notification.

Hm, Jaeger-LeCoultre. Fancy. Very. Fancy. Who’s that? Show me his face.

She rolls her eyes at the text and decides to turn off the phone. “What did he say?” Henry asks, amused by her reaction.

“I think the only thing he saw was your watch,” She says, rolling her eyes.

He chuckles. “So, poker night?” The man furrows his brows.

“Well,” Liese chuckles. “My brothers always included me in everything and my family never had the gender separation nonsense. Like, this is for boys and this is for girls,” She explains.

“That sounds like parenting done right,” Henry says, making her smile wider.

“Exactly! That’s how I want to do in my family, too,” She says.

The lamp goes off in his head as the man sips the wine. Finally, the questions that really matter to know one’s intentions for the long term.

“You want a family?” He asks.

She nods right away. “Of course. And a big one, too,” She replies, unintentionally pleasing Henry with it. “I think I’d feel void without at least three kids,” She chuckles. “I don’t know about you, but my teenage mornings were very chaotic with a family of seven and I honestly miss it.”

“Mine was, too,” Henry smiles, nodding too. “And I quite agree with you. I’d feel like something’s missing.”

“Yes!” The woman doesn’t hide her excitement. “But I’d like to have more than one girl so she won’t suffer alone the pain that is to share the bathroom with boys,” She chuckles.

“Two girls sound nice,” He agrees again. “To be honest, I can’t stand the thought of guys touching my baby girl or girls. So, I change my mind, no girls,” He says and she laughs.

“You’re so silly,” Liese shakes her head slightly. “So, tell me more about that role you’re trying to get. The one that has hair like mine,” She asks and she’s glad she did because Henry’s eyes light up right away.

For the rest of the diner, she listens Henry talking about this fantasy character named Geralt. He explains how he’s annoying the hell out of the producers since he heard Netflix would make a TV series of it.

They share desert and the actor doesn’t allow Liese to pay half of the bill. He helps her to put her coat the foyer of the restaurant and slips his own before they step out in the cold night. Once again, Henry makes sure to open and close the door for Liese before rushing to the driver’s seat.

Henry tries to persuade her into going to his house by saying that Kal misses her, but the woman declines politely. She has to wake up even earlier tomorrow for her shift at St. Thomas’, so, sleeping in his place is completely out of question.

The drive back to her apartment building is much faster but equally entertaining as they continue talking. However, when he parks in front of it and immediately reaches the door handle, Liese stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Thank you so much for the amazing evening, I had an amazing time,” Liese says honestly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she stares into his eyes.

“I had an amazing time, too,” Henry says, smiling at her. “You’re a wonderful woman,” He watches as she unbuckles her belt.

“And you’re a real gentleman,” She starts to lean closer to him. “A dying kind,” She whispers against his lips before sealing it with hers.

His large hands cup her face and she pulls him closer from the neck, deepening the kiss. Things start to get heated quickly and, with a simple hand on her waist, Henry pulls the woman over the car console to his lap. She runs her hands on his chest and he doesn’t realize as she stuffs something in the front pocket of his suit jacket.

She stops everything when he slides his lips to her neck and collarbone, squeezing her ass and making her moan. “I have to get in,” Liese whispers, capturing his lips one last time tonight. “Don’t let Kal have this one,” She says, patting his chest and confusing him as she climbs out of his lap. “Have a good night, Mr. Cavill. I’ll call you,” Liese pecks his lips and winks at him before opening the door and leaving his car.

Henry is completely baffled as he watches her hips sway with a semi hard-on into his pants. Then, a few seconds after she disappeared into the building, he chuckles, shaking his head.

“What a woman,” He says to himself, pushing his hair out of his face and restarting his car.

The man drives home and Kal greets him as usual. He puts food for the big bear before starting to undress. His mind was already going a thousand miles while thinking about Liese, but then he finds what she stuffed into his pocket. Slowly, he pulls the small, lacy piece of underwear from it.

Now it makes sense what she said about not letting Kal have that one.

Henry stares at it for a whole minute, wondering at what point the woman slid it off because he didn’t notice at all. She was definitely wearing it because it smells like her and it’s still warm. With his mouth still dropped open, Henry grabs his phone and snaps a photo of the pantie.

Are you kidding me? When did you take this off?, he texts her.

While we’re slightly making out in the car. I hope you liked the gift ;p, she texts back almost immediately.

I did, but I prefer taking it out myself, Henry replies.

I’m sorry, my shift at St. Thomas’ starts very early tomorrow. I’ll repay you soon, I promise xo, her last text says.

The man simply shakes his head with a smile on his face while Liese does the same in her apartment.

* * *

— CHAPTER V: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x ofc #geralt of rivia #geralt #the witcher #august walker #mission: impossible fallout #clark kent #superman #man of steel #captain syverson #sand castle #liebe liese

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years

Text

What I thought about every episode of The Owl House Season 1 (Part 1/2)

Salutations random people on the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Hey, do you miss Gravity Falls?

...

Yeah, I know, dumb question. Which is why I have good news! Not only is there a new series that is just as good as Gravity Falls, but in some ways, it's even better. That new series would be none other than Disney Channel's latest hit: The Owl House.

The Owl House, slowly but surely, became my new obsession since Eda reacted to decapitation with an unconcerned, "I hate when that happens." I wrote fan-fiction, made fan-art, and even began to separately review new episodes. Unfortunately, I got in a little late in the reviewing game and only managed to analyze the last four episodes of season one. And like an idiot, I promised that I'll review the rest when they came out on Disney+. Seeing that all of the first season has finally come on a legal streaming service (which means WATCH IT RIGHT NOW!), it's time I finally saw through to that promise. However, I'm not going to over-analyze each episode because that would be insane. So instead, we're going to lightning round these suckers. Because it's my Tumblr, and I get to decide what I review and how the hell I review it...hooah.

Which means this is your last chance to avoid spoilers if you haven't seen The Owl House yet. Seriously, it's a great show, and you can catch up right now on Disney+. A week-long trial is more than enough time to watch the series, so DO IT! With that out of the way, let's get started with:

“A Lying Witch and a Warden”: This episode gets a lot of flack for having poor pacing and being too preachy with its message. And to that, I say...you're not wrong. Yeah, I wish I could be that person who can defend this episode against criticism like that, but these are understandable problems that just left this icky feeling in my tum-tum when watching. But that's only when looking at it as a regular old episode when in reality, people need to see it as a first episode. The first episode in any show needs to get viewers interested enough to continue watching by answering these five essential questions: What's the plot of the show? What's the tone? Who are the main characters? What's the world they live in? And what are the rules of the same world? "A Lying Witch and a Warden" does a great job of answering all of these questions. And if you stuck around until the season finale, then that means it did a great job of keeping you interested in sticking around as well. So seeing how it got its job done, albeit, with mixed results, I give this episode a B-.

“Witches Before Wizards”: Don't mind me. Just reveling in the fact that Luz escaped to a fantasy world to avoid Reality Check Camp, only to get a reality check anyway. Because that's what this episode is in a nutshell. Through the "quest" that Luz goes on, she learns two important lessons: One, don't trust strangers who offer you something nice and shiny (bonus points for Eda warning Luz to avoid men with sandals and then have Ategast wear sandals). And two, there is no such thing as having a predetermined destiny. I love the idea that Luz coming to the Isles was just a twist of fate, and everything that happens afterward is pure dumb luck. And that moment when Eda gave a speech about making your own path instead of waiting to become something special? That was the moment when I went from thinking this was going to be a fun show to thinking it's going to be a great show. So consider this episode a solid A in my book.

“I Was a Teenage Abomination”: How is it possible for an episode to get better and worse with time? Because here's the thing: This episode does a great job of showing how perfect Amity's development is. After one single season, it already feels jarring, seeing the way she acts in certain scenes. However, in that same respect, it's the same reason why this episode got worse. I didn't mind that Willow practically got away with cheating and vandalizing the school with her magic because she and Luz were basically trying to show up a two-dimensional bully. But knowing what we know in the future, it does seem unfair that Amity gets punished for their bad behavior and Willow got little consequences for it. Sure, Luz got banned and had to work at gaining Amity's trust, but what about Willow? Although, despite this complaint, I don't really hate this episode. It builds a believable connection between Luz and her friends, and the B-plot King and Eda show off their budding friendship. So while this episode is a C-, it's a somewhat enjoyable C-.

“The Intruder”: Is it weird for anyone else that King gets most of the blame in this episode? Yes, he took the potion, but Luz was the one who kept pushing him. This is why it never sat right with me seeing how everyone, including himself, blames King for this episode's incident. That being said, "The Intruder" is fantastic. Eda, as the Owl Beast, is legitimately threatening, and the way the episode treats Eda's curse like a chronic illness is actually kind of sweet. It teaches kids how this is something that just happens to people, and they're not any weaker because of it, as long as they take the right steps. Which is cool, and it's why this is another solid A episode for me. Sure King getting the blame bothers me, but it pales in comparison to everything else “The Intruder” does right.

“Covention”: If you want my personal opinion (obviously, seeing how you're reading this), "Covention" is the perfect episode to show a friend to get them into watching the The Owl House. Everything there is to love about the show is seen in just these twenty-two minutes. Eda being a chaotic good, Luz being a sweet and understanding character, some incredible/natural world-building, an actually decent B-plot, an epic fight scene, great comedy, and, my personal favorite, the building of Luz and Amity's relationship. In fact, this episode has the most quintessential moment between these two, that Dana Terrace herself took charge of making the animatic for it. A scene that is so perfect that you can do an analysis of these few minutes alone...which is what I did. Click here to read it! "Covention" gets an A+ in my book and might possibly be the best episode of the season. Maybe even the series!

“Hooty’s Moving Hassle”: There's not really a lot I can say about this episode. I don't hate it, but I'm not exactly in love with it. The interactions between Luz and her friends are adorable, and there are a few good jokes that kept me laughing. But the story is kind of bland, and I just find Eda's sudden obsession with Hexes Hold'em kind of odd. Especially since a card game is what nearly defeated the "undefeatable" Owl Lady. If it wasn't for the nice reveal of Willow's and Amity's friendship (which comes into play in a far better episode), I'd say that you could skip this one on future rewatches. Because this is a C grade episode that just doesn't grab me as well as others.

“Lost in Language”: Ah, yes. The episode that made dozens of fans jump aboard the Lumity ship...unless you're like me, and you've been shipping these two since the show's theme song (And I don't know why, either. It's just the second I saw Amity my first thought was, "Oh, honey. You're gonna fall in love with the main character, aren't you?" AND I WAS F**KING RIGHT!). But jokes about shipping aside, "Lost in Language" is a fantastic episode. It has a great lesson about how people are more complex than their first impressions (Or to not judge a book by its cover, if you wanna stay on theme). Edric and Emira seem like a chaotic duo who cause mischief all for good fun. But Luz, as well as the audience, learns that Ed and Em are kinda the worst (they get better in future episodes, but still). Then there's Amity, who hasn't had the best first impressions in the last few episodes. We got glimpses of a good person here and there, but for the most part, that's all they were. Glimpses. Then there's this episode, which gives us more than a small look, but some actual insight into who Amity really is. Better yet, who she wants to be. It's something that I appreciate about The Owl House in that it wastes no time in developing Amity's character. So much so that I can forgive this episode for shoehorning a "Two idiots and a baby" plotline that does nothing but add maybe two minutes of padding. So yeah, it's an A+ for sure.

“Once Upon a Swap”: "Ugh! It's the body swap episode! How cliche and-" SHUT UP! Shut your mouth, and listen: Something being cliche does not always make it bad. Only when the cliche fails to tell an entertaining story does it have the right to work as a complaint. "Once Upon a Swap" may have a cliche premise, but it's still an enjoyable story (or stories) with great laughs and even some ok lessons. I can understand if you hate the episode because its premise is something you've seen a dozen times to the point where your sick of it. My most hated story idea is the "Character A saves Character B, and Character B becomes a life slave." If you have seen this story once, you've seen it a thousand times, and it's the same case with a "body swap" episode. But guess what: The Owl House is a kids' show. Kids'. Show. You can complain all you want about predictability, but kids are the type of viewers who will be new to this experience, despite if it's one that is done to death. Which is why this is solid B of an episode if you ask me.

“Something Ventured, Someone Framed”: Can people please stop shipping Gus with Mattholomule? Because that slimy, greasy, weaselly little son of A BASTARD BITCH WEASEL DOES NOT DESERVE LOVE IN WAY POSSIBLE!

...

But enough about how Mattholomule is the worst character ever, because "Something Ventured, Someone Framed" is a B+ in my opinion. Sure it shows the worst side of Gus and lets Satan's little herpe win in the end, but there is still quality to be had. We get insight into who Gus is as a character, on top of Eda swallowing her pride and cleaning the school so Luz can get into Hexide. Also, Eda's permanent record was the first time this show brought me to tears due to laughing so hard. So while I have to take points off for the inclusion of Mattholomule (I don't make the rules. I just live by them), this is still an episode I wouldn't mind revisiting.

“Escape of the Palisman”: I subscribe to this theory that Luz will one day have Eda's staff as her own. And episodes like this that strengthen the bond between Luz and Owlbert help confirm that theory. Luz's dedication to trying to make things right could just be part of her kind nature, but I like to believe that this is Dana and the crew trying to set up this possible outcome. As for what I think about the episode itself...it's ok. Again, Luz's dedication is nice to see, and King's adventure with Owl Beast Eda is somehow insanely adorable, but there's not really much to say other than that. So it's another B episode for me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that’s the end of part one! Part two has probably already been posted by the time you finish this, so you can go ahead and find that if you’re interested.

#the owl house #the owl house review #what i thought about

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wolfwhiteflowers · 4 years

Text

I found this on twitter and wanted (try) to answer them here instead. :B Great questions! thanks. @LM_Nocass twitter.com/LM_Nocass/ status/1292935841258647553

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𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥/𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥/𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 (𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲); 2:28 PM · Aug 10, 2020 --------------@LM_Nocass

1. Which part of herself does Carol see in Daryl? ||um same brokenness past and seeing that there’s good parts in him. He’s not like Merle and Ed. 2. Which part of himself does Daryl see in Carol? ||They both know what it’s like to be abused and have an understanding. He sees strength in her. /...I think they slowly start to think they’re not alone on feeling like the odd one out or fighting to live before Apoc. They eventually think they’re a lot alike and connected right away. s1-s2. I guess they both started to grow at the same time and look after each other’s back ever since.

3. If there was no za and they met each other, would they be so close? Why? ||Yeah I think so. But not so close or “early” on. Probably lil glimpse of like oh they’re alike and good people. But other things in the way...like Carol or Daryl be stuck in bad situations and die or something. Y’kno Daryl would’ve been like “mini Merle” or like.... dead from stopping a fight or prison. Carol could just be dead or lost herself from being with Ed. ...Unless they got away from their abusers :) I can see there’s a chance of them getting close. *”mini Merle” I think I got this phrase wrong. Mini Merle is Merle’s hand weapon thing. I meant that Daryl would have become more damaged,lost, and be similar to Merle then. ..like a younger Merle.

4. How do you think, Alexandria's ppl ship them or they don’t care? Why? || BTW, I think of what the writers want or had in mind.. Anyway, when Rlchonne happened or Abe and Sasha went canon, it just seems like very neutral whatever way. Well I guess the show isn’t that .. charactery and romantic. -_- Anyway, I think they care and are supportive and of all Team family but mind their business. I think practically everyone knows about Caryl and their close relationship. I guess they’re like in the same boat as us or general fans. We would be happy if they get together but if not then like ....hmm you guys are so together~ Um..I guess people would be going WTF if Caryl grew apart.

5. AU: real life. Which one of them is more attractive to believe in supernatural stuff? Why? || they both seem to be into that. erm I’ll say Daryl.

6. AU: real life. Which one of them is more attractive to send a lot of Red heartFace throwing a kissSmiling face with heart-shaped eyes and etc? Why? || Carol is more open to display of affection. But Daryl got his heart on his sleeves. He’s straightforward tells/show you how he feels and means it.

13. What would do today's Carol if she met someone like Ed? ||Probably she be able to stand up to him when he starts to be controlling and she speak out and say it’s not right. Idk..maybe them talking it out will make Ed change himself if he wants to. And she walks away from him early on. 14. If today's Carol met past Carol, what would she say to her? ||You’re stronger than you think you are. You are enough. These hard times made her wiser in Apoc./life. She’s always a mother..when they’re gone, they’re still with her. 15. If today's Daryl met past Daryl, what would he say to him? ||This doesn’t always have to be this way/Merle-life. You’re not alone. Good people will stick with you. Trust them. Your goodness matters. You don’t need to depend on Merle. If Merle wouldn’t change now then he won’t later on. Idk... Daryl is so loyal and to his brother. So it’s just he gotta let Merle/his past go. 16. Why does Daryl prefer the crossbow, not a bow? ||I guess that’s what hunters like to use most often. Idk. 17. AU: real life. Which one of them is most likely to surfing in the Internet for hours? Why? ||Carol because she mentioned internet in s4. lol Okay um yeah Carol I guess. I think she likes to research on things. Daryl is more outdoorsy kind of person. 18. AU: real life. Which one of them will have a private acc on social medias and who won’t care? ||I think both would be private...or heck Daryl not private but barely any content. lol Just hunting, nature stuff and games.

19. AU: real life. Which one of them will send memes? ||Carol because she like goofy or sassy jokes.

20. AU: real life. What profession is suitable for Carol? Why? ||hmm housewife, teacher, nurse, or something to look after the community.. She likes to cook but Idk if she likes to do it often. Some job to care about the people and place.

21. AU: real life. What profession is suitable for Daryl? Why? ||A hunter, mechanic, or construction worker. Something like hands-on job.

22. Which of them has a black sense of humor? ||I think Carol have a dark/black sense of humor. Daryl is ..more less humor-y. more sarcastic. idk what im saying.

23. Had Daryl ever thought about having children? If he did, he would prefer boy or daughter? ||I think he never really thought of it till he’s away from Merle/past life. But Idk I think he doesn’t really think on it. He just wants to protect all kids. He’s Uncle Daryl. I don’t think he has a preference.

24. Is Daryl asexual or demisexual? Or other? Why? ||Read ? #10. I say so far it seems like he’s demisexual from what Kang said and from what people/fandom been always questioning him from the show and from that 6 years in woods plot. (Also the show isn’t that showy on romance and relationships so I didn’t think they would bother to address his romance/sexuality but they did so ok.) I guess I always think of him as demisexual...or someone who would be friends to lovers kind of person. He’s the closest with Carol so..slowburn to canon, yeah? /// This makes me think of Carol’s relationships and how she is fine having sex anytime ..no emotions involved way...She doesn’t really have or know a good emotional canon relationship except almost with Zeke, I guess. 25. Carol’s fav movie genre(s)? ||Romcoms <3

26. Daryl’s fav movie genre(s)? ||action / horror :O 27. When the show ends, what kind of ending do you want for them? ||I want good writing and that flows right. Caryl be Caryl. I guess them riding off to the sunset to New Mexico. Or..looking after team family in ASZ or TF working together to find/help Rick and living their best lives in a community. A happy ending pls. 28. Which one of them is good at math? ||hmm Carol. Daryl would be good at reading..science.

29. If there was Caryl movie, what song(s) would you add to it? || hmm a song to add, I would pick ..”You and Me” by Pink I think. Or, “X and Y” by Coldplay. Or, “Cosmic Love” by Florence Machine. 30. Did Daryl help you? ||I really appreciate the writers and the acting did with Daryl and Carol. They’re really unique, interesting and relatable characters. Daryl helped me to keep being myself and do what’s right even when you feel odd ball out. Idk I also like that we see characters like Daryl and Carol what we stereotypical think they may be like in s1 but then we see they’re relatable and we can be more open minded to other people. I liked that we see him getting a chance to grow and see how loyal he is. 31. Did Carol help you? ||Yeah. I really like how she’s like I guess most people in s1, quiet, timid, not quite fit into the Apoc. world, but learns to trust herself, get braver and open up. She’s like so strong and brave now but it’s not surprising to see that in a way because we see her character development and I like how writers and acting, made it so relatable and realistic to me. We all can be like Carol. //I think she’s a great character to watch for mothers who lost kids or was a abused wife/person. Same with Daryl as a abused child/brother in that Merle’s lifestyle.

32. What did Caryl give you? Hope? Strength? ||I really like what became Caryl in the show for years. They became one of my fave ships. They’re unique and I love that we see their strong bond and connection. They’re soulmatey and angsty. Idk I feel like they gave hope that there are people that will get you and have your back. And strength, they grown so much and made me think about myself to keep facing my fears and be in a healthy relationship. 33. Carol’s fav music genre(s)? ||Country pop. Idk.. I think McReedus are into Rock music so. 34. Daryl’s fav music genre(s)? ||Country rock. ...Idk Metal music.

35. Describe Carol in one word. ||Brave

36. Describe Daryl in one word. ||Loyal or uh a word that means does what he think is the right thing to do...and caring. Uncle.

37. What do you expect from them in season 11? ||Idk I’m really clueless. TWD right now is really not by the comics anymore and it’s hard to speculate now. I’m kinda hoping they have something a plot that relates to taking care of the Grimes kids and a plot/s that relates to Rick’s journey/TWD show. Idk well I guess they be figuring it out what to do with Maggie and politics with the ..spoiler- new communities.

I hope for good writing and if they go canon, I hope they write good relationship/romance writing. As in they don’t separate them and break up a bunch of times or be boring. eek. I hope it’s like they still be like the subtle canon ship..like RIchonne as there is something else they have to do together. Like they be canon but they talk about the new plots/problems/family in s11 and their relationship grows.

38. Your favorite Caryl season(s)? Why? ||It’s season 2 or s10. I feel it’s the most Caryl interaction and them deepening their relationship. 39. When do you think Daryl was ready to start a relationship? Or do you still think he isn't ready? Or he is ready rn? ||Whenever the writers are ready. :\ I think as a character he’s ready...yeah especially s10. He’s not hiding and being emo in the woods in s9. He’s not the (Rick’s)sidekick character anymore. He’s I think grown a lot by being with people and opening up being a leader-like now, domestic?,leading character, and I think he’s now more ready to have romantic relationship if he wants to. And for Carol ..rn is like does she feel worthy or ok to have love again. ooh angst. 40. Which of them is owl, and which of them is lark? Why? || I think Daryl is a lark/early bird because he likes the quietness and time to hunt, and Carol is a night owl because she likes to know what else is going on when it’s the dark.

#caryl #caryl positivity #*twd #2nd time posting this but no link added..

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jyndor · 3 years

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Cop-thing-anon here:

(I don't believe in the blue lives matter thing by the way)

I do get where you're coming from. I guess I see the thing about cops and cop AUs differently because the police is different and not as fucked up in my country. The thing about the fanart is just..I think you're reading too much into it. I don't think the artist really focused on the skin colour of Sokka, I mean, it's a kids show. Skin colour was never really mentioned or important in atla. But Sokka's personality is most likely why the artist was inspired to draw him as a "gangster", with azula (the villain) being a cop. It is kind of insensitive to draw that with the events going on, but I think that a lot of people in the fandom take some things way too seriously, for a kids show back in the late 2000's anyway.

hey anon, I say this with love and I am being sincere. I'm gonna need you to rewatch the show if you think skin color didn't matter. and it doesn't matter where you live because there is no part of the world, no culture, that isn't shaped by colonialism. I don't mean to be condescending so please bear with me, I truly believe in educating people as a part of allyship and anti-racism.

Anon, please know that I am not angry or anything but sincere in what I’m about to say. Just bear with me because I know that unlearning shit is difficult and can be painful, but we’ve gotta do it. I do appreciate you wanting to have this conversation at all. And I’m not writing this just for your benefit - this is for anyone who wants to learn about why A) race is a part of ATLA’s narrative and B) why critical analysis of mass media is actually important. So I’m not assuming you don’t know basic things about this stuff, I’m not trying to be condescending.

Now we’re gonna fix colonialism and imperialism XD wee okay here we go.

No matter where you live in the world you have some awareness of skin color. Your understanding of race might be different than mine, in fact it probably is. Race as we know it today is a social construct that stems from many things (and I wrote several hundred words on it but it was too much and too far removed from the point I’m trying to make so I edited all of that out. Yay.)

You don’t usually see imperialism, one of the major themes in Avatar, without colonialism. Imperialism is slightly different than colonialism - you can think of it like the ideology behind the practice of colonialism.* Imperialism can be used to describe expansionism in general - which has been going on since the bronze age lol humans, I stg - but usually when people today refer to colonialism and imperialism they’re talking about imperialism starting in the 17th century.

Now imperialism is not just a European concept. ATLA is set in a world that we know is supposed to be like a combination of different Asian cultures (with some influences from the Americas). And the Fire Nation is clearly influenced by Imperial Japan. So briefly:

Japan had a policy of sakoku (chained or closed country) which kept it mostly isolated (out of concerns that Japan would fall victim to something like the Opium Wars in China, among other things) from the rest of the world for a couple hundred years until the 1850s when a US Naval commander named Matthew Perry (I am not kidding) forced Japan to open its borders for trade to the United States by gunboat diplomacy, an oxymoron if I have ever seen one before.

Japan ended up signing unequal treaties with a lot of Western countries, and this bred xenophobia and hostility in Japan. The Emperor who signed these treaties died of smallpox, and after some internal conflict his son decided try to renegotiate these treaties. The US and European countries were not interested in renegotiating dick but the mission wasn’t unsuccessful because the diplomats A) exchanged some islands with Russia and B) were inspired by western economic policy and society to “modernize” Japan. Japan began industrialization and it converted to a market economy with the help of the US and other western powers.

So over many years, Japan went to war with China, Korea, Russia (and took back some of the land they exchanged with them), and others. From wikipedia:

Using its superior technological advances in naval aviation and its modern doctrines of amphibious and naval warfare, Japan achieved one of the fastest maritime expansions in history. By 1942 Japan had conquered much of East Asia and the Pacific, including the east of China, Hong Kong, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Burma (Myanmar), Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, part of New Guinea and many islands of the Pacific Ocean.

But ATLA is not a Japanese story. The Fire Nation is not Imperial Japan. The Earth Kingdom is not China or Korea, the Air Nomads are not Tibetan monks, and the Water Tribes are not Inuit. The creators definitely drew heavy inspiration from all of these places and others, but ATLA is a story written by American people in the United States for American kids. It is an American story.

And it was created at a time when the United States was victimizing people in Afghanistan and Iraq (and other places) in many similar ways to how the Fire Nation victimized people. In fact, the show starts in the Southern Water Tribe, which represent Inuit people, indigenous people in Alaska, Canada and Greenland, I think it’s safe to assume that the genocide being referenced here is not one by Japan but rather by European colonizers and later by the United States and Canada.

Imperialism is in the show’s DNA.

And so is racism. In our world they are inherently connected. And visual cues from the show along with things the characters say suggest that we are meant to make the comparison between our world and the ATLA world. Every story has a purpose - it doesn’t have to be political, but for Avatar it is political, it is anti-imperialist.

In this article about how ATLA resonates with us in 2020, Aina Khan of the Guardian interviews Professor Ali A Olomi about using ATLA to teach at Penn State. “One of the things we see with the Fire Nation is the ideological justification for what they’re doing. We are a glorious civilization. We have abundance, we have wealth, we have technological advancement; we need to share it with the rest of the world. That’s almost word for word European colonisation.”

Zuko and Azula both call Katara a peasant. In fact, Azula calls her a dirty peasant. This is one step away from calling her a s*vage I mean come on. While peasant might just be purely classist (lol no) because Zuko and Azula are royalty, um it’s clearly racialized classism because of real life context. There is real history with colonizers calling indigenous people this, dismissing their cultures as primitive and barbaric.

Add into the mix colorism, which is bias against darker skin and privileges fair skin (which is a byproduct of imperialism) and you have clear race shit happening in Avatar.

When I saw that fanart, I was immediately reminded of black lives matter of course, but mainly of the fact that indigenous peoples are also at high risk of being victimized by police. Not just in the US. And how gross it is to depict a colonizer like Azula as an angry cop (representing the state) turning her gun on an indigenous man who is dressed like a gangster which... yike.

Mass media influence everything we do. The messaging we get, our politics, what we want to eat for dinner because we’re hungry and have been writing this stupid essay for three hours LOL. It’s important that people think critically about what they consume. Otherwise you get the goddamn United States with half of our population stanning a racist fraud. You want to know why US Americans are so ignorant? Because our education system sucks, because we don’t have any real media literacy. But apparently the rest of the world has some fucking nerve making fun of Americans** because all of us suck at it. No one is thinking critically about media.

A really terrifying thing about people is our ability to take whatever message we want from stories, even if it is in direct contradiction with the narrative of a story. There’s a movie called American History X which is explicitly anti-fascist, but because it’s a drama and Ed Norton is cut and looks badass and uncucked or whatever LOL, the iconography in that movie is fairly popular with neo-nazis. Yike. This is not at that level of course, this is some random niche fanart for a rare pairing.

For better or for worse, US media and entertainment gets a lot of attention and people around the world eat it up. Maybe you don’t need to know every little detail about US American shit, and I know we tend to dominate media, but black lives matter is not just a 2020 thing. People have known about it for years, since it started. If that fanart was created in 2019, which I think it was, the BLM movement had already existed for six years. If you’re watching an American show like Avatar and you’re making fanart on social media but you don’t know what BLM is in 2019... well educate yourself lmao.

Considering that Black fans have expressed frustration and discomfort in fandoms over and over again, and I am sure indigenous fans have too because fandoms are racist sometimes, it’s important that white fans help make fandoms better. And I am a white fan, and I consider myself an anti-racist. Which means I have to be active about racism when I see it.

btw I found this great essay by @cobra-diamond which you should read if you want more details about the similarities between Japan and the Fire Nation.

* that is very reductive but it’s fine lol

** I am kidding, unless you are english feel free to make fun of americans for non-gun, non-trauma related things pls

#anons #asks #racism tw #colonialism tw #atla #fandom racism #acab #police violence #indigenous right #nazism tw #oh lord shitty discourse tw #imperialism tw #anyway now i'm gonna eat

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imagineitup · 5 years

Text

all the things i think you should know : richie tozier x reader

a/n : i watched it chapter one for the first time this weekend and i thought i would write something for the film b/c i loved it sm

also i would love to hear feedback x

warning : language, sad!reader

song to listen to : pretty by ingrid michaelson

- -

The lamplight glows through the curtains, and you lay up and look at the ceiling, fingers a hair-breadth away from Richie’s.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” you say, your voice much stronger than you’ve intended. “Really. It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Richie says, turning his head to look at you. His curls splay against the carpet, and his eyes magnify even larger in his glasses. “That’s complete bullshit. It’s not nothing.”

“C’mon Rich,” you groan, “don’t you want to like, read comics or something? Play a game?” You pout at him, staring at him with overly exaggerated innocence. Your ‘puppy-dog’ eyes.

Richie rolls his own eyes, turning to you with an expression that you’ve come to know very well. Fucking out with it, already.

But what he says is entirely different than what you’re expecting. “It’s not about what Bowers said two weeks ago, is it?”

You stiffen. “Course not. He’s full of shit.”

“Well, duh,” Richie says, a proud sort of smile tugging at his lips. But then he shrugs, turning solemn. “But still. You don’t believe it, do you?”

“Believe what?” Your voice comes out in a whisper, and somehow you’re suddenly too aware of the blood rushing through your ears, and the way you’re almost too afraid to breathe. Almost like one wrong step could make everything tumble and crash into pieces.

“Believe what that asshole said,” Richie scowls, shifting as his fingers clench around the carpet fiber. “That no one would care if you, you know,” he struggles to say it, “died. Went missing.”

You swallow. It’s become only too apparent that maybe things were getting out of hand. Sometimes the sadness was worse, sometimes the numbness was a little worse, especially now that it was summer, and the Losers were all doing their own things.

Apparently it’s all Richie needs. “That fucking asshole.”

“Richie,” you say, your hand reaching out to touch his wrist, “Rich --”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Richie says fiercely, his voice angry, and loud, and furious. “I’m gonna punch that fuck face right where it hurts so he won’t ever come near you again.”

You sit up, suddenly. “Richie. No.”

Richie looks at you, his anger reflected in his glasses and somehow all you can think of is red, red, red. Red like the printed flowers on his shirt, red like the cut on his cheek, red like your heart beating, beating, beating. “And why not?”

“I’m over it. And honestly, you should be, too.”

“No!” Richie sits up, too, and his glasses are skewed from the motion, and he’s too angry to fix them. “No, you’re not over it. And he can’t say shitty things like that,” he hisses, “that son of a bitch.”

“Look,” you say, feigning exasperation, “I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

Beat.

Richie stares at you with wide eyes, his lips parted. His anger fades away, and despite being relieved, his silence is so much worse than his fury. Suddenly you want the angry Richie back, not the Richie who looks at you like this, like somehow you’re his whole world and he’s watching you slowly succumb to darkness.

“I mean,” you shrug, looking at your feet,“he’s said much worse. He’s done much worse to you, Bill, and Mike. I’m not even hurt.” You motion to the cut raging red across his cheek. “Like, how the hell did you even get that?”

“(Y/N),” Richie whispers.

You frown at him. “What?”

“But you were crying.”

You sigh, groaning and turning away from Richie. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You so were.”

“I told you it was nothing.”

“You’re never ‘here’ when we come to get you,” Richie says, holding up one finger. And then another. “You don’t answer any of our calls. And when I finally went to go look for you yesterday, you were sitting on your swing.”

“So what?”

“So what?” Richie repeats incredulously, his voice coming close to a shout, “I’ve never seen you that sad before.”

And that’s when it happens. When you swear you can feel everything start shifting, rearranging in your mind. He fucking knows.

“Everyone gets sad sometimes.”

“Sure everyone gets sad.” Richie shakes his head. “But not like that.” He fiddles with his fingers, “it was like, it was like --”

“Like what?” Your voice comes out softly, and you find that you’re unable to look Richie in the eyes for too long.

“I know I,” Richie starts, and when you look back at him, it looks like he’s physically pained. “I know you all call me Trashmouth, and whatever, but I, I care. I care, you know. If you want to talk.”

“Oh.”

“(Y/N) --”

You blink, shutting your eyes. “I’m just lonely, Richie. Really, really lonely.”

“Lonely?” The confusion is obvious on his face. “But --”

“Yeah,” you say. “Told you it was stupid.”

“No,” Richie says impulsively, shaking his head furiously. “Nothing you say is stupid.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Well,” Richie says, daring to let a smirk tug at his lips, “Except maybe for that time you said New Kids on the Block was the best music group you’d ever heard of.”

“Oh my god,” you say.

“And then when you decided you were going to hold your breath underwater for like, a minute just so you wouldn’t have to hear my voice.”

“Well, that was resourceful at the time,” you say.

“Hah,” Richie laughs, jabbing his elbow in your side. “Okay, talk. Spill your secrets, Clark Kent. What’s up?”

You open your mouth, only to have Richie’s hand fly over your lips. “And don’t say nothing, or else I get all the raspberry popsicles in your fridge for a month.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. “And your first-born child,” he says, in a terrible imitation of Rumpelstiltskin, which makes absolutely no sense.

You glare at him, and he removes his hand. But then you sigh, leaning back against the wall. “You guys don't really care about me,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant and almost succeeding. “Which is fine. It’s always been like that. I mean, hell, if I hadn’t been getting pushed around by Bowers you all wouldn’t have given a shit.”

“Woah,” Riche says, and he looks taken back. “Woah, what?”

“I said,” you say, almost getting angry, “you don’t give a shit.”

Richie recoils, and the way he winces makes your heart shrink. “You really think that?”

You shrug, unable to say anything.

“You remember those cupcakes we had for your birthday?” Richie brings up, boldly.

You nod, bringing up your legs to your chest.

“Well, we’d all forgotten about your birthday except for Bev.” Richie flushes, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Sorry, that makes me sound like shit, but Bev stayed up all night making those cupcakes for you. I don’t think she would do that if she didn’t give a shit.”

You blink. “What?”

“Yeah, you want to know why Bill has that black eye?” Richie says again, voice louder. “Hockstetter was talking shit about you in the halls one day, and he stood up for you. Bill freaking Denbrough. The same Bill that won’t even speak up in class to talk about his favorite nerdy books.”

“I--”

“Ben started listening to that stupid band again, New Kids on the Block, because he knows you like it, too. He thinks you’re such a cool person, that he wants to listen to that fucking band because that way, maybe you’ll both be better friends.”

“He, what?”

“Stan and Mike were talking today about how they missed hanging out with you. They were saying that I’m intolerable because there’s no you anymore. Mike said you’re like sunshine, really mushy, but true. And Stan said he’d trade his favorite bird book for you to come back, so that I’d finally shut up about you.”

Richie was talking about you? What?

“And then there’s Eds,” Richie says, pulling something out of his pocket, “wanted me to give these to you. He’s an idiot, I told him you weren’t sick, but no one listens to ol’Richie,” Richie tosses you a bottle of apple scented hand sanitizer and a hastily scribbled, ‘get well soon,’ card. “He thought you had the flu. So he got you this cause he’s a germaphobe, and he misses you, too.”

“And I --” Richie breaks off suddenly. He bites his lip, fiddling with his glasses. The lamplight glows through the curtains, reflecting in a warm haze around the glass and magnifying his irises, and suddenly he’s breathing in, his hands trembling. “I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. So I give a shit, (Y/N). We all do.”

You stare at Richie, speechless.

“I just, I really miss you, okay?” He’s rambling now, fussing with his glasses and suddenly shrinking into himself. “Everything’s so less fun without you, and I won’t be a dick about it. I just really needed to tell you --”

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you too, Richie.”

It surprises you how Richie melts in your arms, how he rests his head against your shoulder and how you can feel his limbs trembling, making your heart wrench. “I knew you liked me, too,” Richie says, attempting at a joke, “fucking knew it. The Losers all owe me two dollars.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad,” you counter. You bring up your hand to gently run your thumb against the scar stretching across his cheek. “That looks like it hurts.”

“Eh,” Richie says, his voice muffled, “it’s not that bad. I forgot about it, honestly.”

“You didn’t get this because of --”

“Please come back,” Richie whispers. “Please.”

“I’ll try,” you say.

Richie exhales, letting out a long breath of air. “Okay. Okay that’s good enough.”

“This is the nicest I’ve ever seen you,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Pfft,” Richie says, although it’s without any spite, without any of the usual Richieness. “The nerve.”

“Sorry for making you sad,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to.”

Richie shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I want to,” you say.

“Why?” Richie fires back, fighting with you. “No one else does.”

You stare at Richie for a moment, your eyes wide at the way he stubbornly refuses to meet your gaze, the way his shoulders raise almost as if he’s expecting rejection.

“Listen here, asshole,” you say, and Richie snorts, punching you lightly in the arm.

“Copyright,” Richie says snidely. “I could sue you.”

“We all worry about you. Wanna know why?”

“Why?” Richie repeats, insolently, like he’s a broken record and can only say the same thing over and over again.

“Well, first of all, I love you. I love you so much.” You grin, pressing a kiss to the edge of his scar. “Second of all,”

Richie stares at you, and the smile that stretches across his lips is the largest you’ve ever seen it. You don’t even think he’s listening to you anymore, but that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Just you and him. And in this moment, it’s more than enough.

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier oneshot #richie tozier x you #richie tozier it chapter one #it chapter one imagine #richie tozier x y/n

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erineliz · 4 years

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I spent a lot of time thinking about and writing about my favorite Taylor Swift albums of all time and ranking them. It was a lot of work but I’d love to see other fans rankings and read why. Here’s mine:

1.folklore

2.fearless

3.reputation

4.taylor Swift

5.speak now

6.Red

7.lover

8.1989

So now that folklore has been out awhile, I’ve listened to it, memorized it, loved it. I’ve been reminiscing on old albums now, as you do. My album ranking opinion is probably a super unpopular one in the t-swift fandom that I follow but, I’m a different kind of swiftie I suppose. So I’ll try to further explain my opinions on these albums.

Starting from the bottom,

1989: this is last for me but in no way means it’s a bad album, I mean something has to be last but this one just was not my wildest dream lol. It started off with the release of shake it off before the rest of the album and this was the beginning of Taylor releasing my least favorite song first on quite a few albums (followed by LWYMMD and YNTCD, but we’ll get to those later) I love, love,love blank space and it was a huge bop for a long time after I first heard it. Prob the only thing that made me even want to listen to the rest of the album. Because, as you can see red didn’t fall very high on my list so to follow it up with just shake it off made me kind of feel like, am I over t Swift? 😯 shocking, I know. I was a senior in college when this was released, blank space was played loudly at a few house parties and I loved that everyone loved it too, not just me; a long time lover of swift. It always feels like an I told you so moment when people who aren’t swifties like one of her songs. I never bought this album, and didn’t have Apple Music at the time so I feel like I never really gave it the time and appreciation it deserved. Almost every song on it became a single and I did like a lot of them. The first time I heard New Romantics was when my sister was playing the deluxe cd in her car and I was like, what is this? I loved that song. I think I then looked into the album more and listened to the rest. It was ok, I liked clean because I was going through a breakup. I liked how you get the girl, I thought it was creative and also kind of related to my break up. Out of the woods was too repetitive for me, the rest of the songs were played on the radio so much that they just became overplayed and annoying to me. So yeah, although this was her most successful album by far, I think it was just too mainstream, over played and not for me! But still good overall, you know, because, it’s Taylor Swift.

Lover: it was hard for me to put this this low, because again, not a bad album. It started off by Releasing YNTCD and Me! Before the rest of the album and again I was just like meh... but I knew better in my career as a swiftie that these two singles meant nothing for what the rest of album would be. I really like a lot of the songs on this album, London boy, daylight, false god, cruel summer, the man..all really good! But just nothing that went down as a favorite swift song of all time. I love the aesthetic of this album, probably one of my faves. I love that it’s about love, it came out last year, right when I bought a house with my lover, and I listened to it many hours while painting our walls before we moved in. I feel like Taylor and I have gone through it all together, and lover was the epitome of where my relationship was with my fiancé, just like her and joe 💕 we made it through all the heartbreaks and this was the purple pink sky at the end of the tunnel! But still, she has made way better music IMO.

Red: This is the swift album that everyone thinks got snubbed by the Grammy’s. Most swifties would scoff at this ranking as well. But..again not a bad album, this album has some of her BEST songs/lyrics. But..also it has, and it hurts me to say this, some of her worst as well. Red is good, but if we’re taking albums as a WHOLE, that you can listen too without any skips, this is not that one for me. This album does have some of my favorite of all time songs: all too well(give me the 8 minute version,damnit), red, state of grace, treacherous. But then it also has..stay,stay,stay which I really think is just like, so corny and fake, you can tell it’s not about her life, it’s like a little country twangy but still like bubble gum pop. It just rubs me the wrong way and gets a skip when listening. This album was a huge turning point in her country to pop timeline and it has a good mix of her pop bops along with her pretty little guitar poetry. The pop singles on this album were not my fave. 22 is fun, I was 20-21 when this came out and everyone was jamming 22 on their 22nd b-days. IKYWT got sooo overplayed and annoying. Same with WANEEGBT. I love my t-swift deep cut, sad songs but some of these were just trying too hard at that, like sad beautiful tragic and the moment I knew. They were just tooo dramatic for me. But idk, maybe it’s just because I wasn’t going through heartbreak when this came out, I was about 3 years into a 6 year relationship so heartbreak hadn’t been relatable for awhile and wasn’t going to be for awhile longer. I loved the duets with Ed and Gary, so glad we got that again on folklore! I also think that this album appeals way more to a younger audience. I think I grew up a little by 2012 compared to when I was crying over boys listening to the first albums, not just in a sense of heartbreak but also like just the parts of red that are a little corny to me. I think she was still aiming for the young teeny bopper pop and I was kind of growing out of that stage in music, broadening my horizons if you will. I started listening to swift when I was like 15. I think I just was a little ahead of the target generation that this album was made for: But I still just wasn’t done with her or this album due to the minor cheesy parts. Because then she puts shit on there like the fucking bridge of all too well and I’m like ok she is still the greatest writer of all time. This was a long explanation for red, but I have so many feelings about it. And also, yeah.. it didn’t deserve a Grammy, all things considered. All too well could have had one for song of the year, but whatever.

Speak Now: this was a good album, I think it was very similar to fearless but not quite as iconic. fearless has kept its high rank over the years so because this was so similar, I can’t put it too low. It was exactly what I wanted after fearless, also I think it kind of explains too why red was a bit of a let down..it was a huge change from fearless and speak now. I guess I’m just slow to adapt to change? But anyways speak now has some of the best deep cuts, dear john, last kiss both so beautifully written. Real, raw. We all knew who they were about and the drama of these relationships was exciting because these were the days that’d we’d all hear stuff about who she was dating but never get the full story. then later hear about it in her albums..it was nice to get that kind of honesty from a celebrity, made us feel like we really knew her. Sparks fly is up there as favorite song of all time. Mean was such a clap back to her critics and had the country vibe and twang from her first album. Also, this album had songs about John Mayer, joe Jonas, Taylor lautner..and Kanye west? All huge names at the time. I have to admit, the Kanye west innocent song was a huggeee let down at the time. I know this bitch had worse thing to say than “you’re still an innocent” but..she was very deep into playing her nice girl role at the time. So thank god there was a rep era later on down the road! I was a freshman in college when this came out. Living in dorm rooms, listening to music on my laptop late at night with the lights out.

Taylor Swift: this is up there, because it just has to be. This is where it all started. Listening to country radio, hearing Tim McGraw for the first time. I myself being a huge Tim McGraw fan thinking, I hope someone does think of me when they think of Tim McGraw lol. And then, just on a whim somehow, looking up other songs by her..just to see. Now in 2006, looking up songs by an artist wasn’t as easy a task as it is now. I illegally downloaded music on limewire still at this point. And would then burn it to cds. And would later get my first iPod and transfer everything to that, because who wants to pay a dollar per song on iTunes? I’m sorry Taylor, but Not my mother. So, being 14-15, I had to find my own ways. Stay beautiful, our song, cold as you, picture to burn, should’ve said no..these songs were the words I was looking for in high school, going through teenage love and heart ache. Feeling the exact same way as her and wanting to just write these words on a paper and fucking send it to all these boys who made me sad. Wanting to be a famous singer just so these people could see how I feel and how they ruined everything. Pretending that Mary’s song was the story of my lover and I in an imaginary world. Like, for real. This album did something to me, because of this album no matter what happens in this life, if Taylor puts out music, I’m going to listen to it..just to see.

Reputation: this album was a huge turning point for her. And for me, as her fan. It was after 1989, so I wasn’t like, obsessively waiting to see what would be next. The whole cancel tswift thing happened and I heard about it, but it wasn’t like a huge deal. I was on her side, she didn’t do anything wrong and people were so quick to jump down her throat. but musically after 1989, I was not a hardcore swiftie, I still hadn’t adapted to the all pop era. I needed my Taylor swift on a guitar, pouring her heart out in her lyrics. And then, this happened and it was, for me, way better pop than anything on 1989 or red, by far. I was back to my obsessive swiftie ways, but in a whole new way. Every song on the album was a jam, she was speaking her mind, finally saying wayy more about kanye (and kim, ugh) than what we got on speak now.(ironic, because to me this album is when she really started to speak and didn’t play the nice girl anymore) not only that but, this was a love album and I related to it in so many ways. I was finally out of that 6 year relationship, and had a bit of a “reputation” (not really, but some bridges were burned and people talk a lot about things they no nothing about when you end something that lasted 6 years) and I had met someone new. I related to every love song on this album so much and it meant so much because, like Taylor, after all the bullshit that happened, finding the right person is everything. She had never been more relatable. I feel like her pop music finally grew up enough for me. She was doing pop in a new way and I was here for it.

Fearless: this one has stood the test of time. A classic. No skip album. Country, but her first intro to pop crossover with love story, but unlike a lot of her early pop hits, love story didn’t get old and overplayed for me. It’s not like my favorite song now, but when it blew up, I was about it. Beautiful writing on this whole album. It was the first album I bought. The physical cd. It came out when I was just learning to drive. Driving on my own and blasting this album singing at the top of my lungs along with it with no one to tell me to turn it down or change the song solidified the love story I had with fearless. Blasting you’re not sorry over and over again, (a top 5 song of all time) it made me want to learn to play piano (I didn’t). White horse playing on grays anatomy (my fave show at the time). Listening to fifteen at age 16 for the first time thinking, yes this is so true and I’m so much older and wiser now 🤣 . I was a colbie caillat fan before I knew who Taylor was. Hey Stephen was cute AF. Wished that I had the courage to say things like that to my crushes. Forever and always after my first breakup. It just hit so hard. I can always go back to this album, and have, over the years. My first tswift concert with my only other friend that liked her. It was before any of the drama that came out in the news about her. It’s when She started to blow up in popularity, I’d start to religiously follow things she was doing, interviews, videos on tour, and fell in love with her personality. This girl was talented and hilarious and pretty and smart. I wanted to be her so bad.

Folklore: although it’s still new and fresh, I really think it’s the best yet. For me it’s Taylor swift come full circle. It has the writing, some of her best lyrics yet. It has the age and wisdom that we have watched her gracefully acquire over the years. It’s not pop but it still has the catchy tunes that get stuck in your head, but in a quieter, simpler way. It takes loads more talent to get these songs on the charts than it did with her tried and true formula that she has used in the past for a pop song. She perfected that art, but this is a new level now. It’s not trying too hard, it’s honest. It’s still about love and how far she (and I 😭) have come in that journey. Yet it still has the heartbreak, teenage angst that only she can describe so beautifully. Cardigan might be best of all time. Betty takes me back to something on fearless. Mirror ball and August are light, airy, upbeat and just unique. TLGAD is her storytelling at its finest, yet also a quick fuck you to those who think she’s “ruined” anything. She had a marvelous time. It’s also that personal level, we’ve seen the photos of her and all her friends at this house and it just makes you feel like you’ve been there or something. Exile takes me back to red and I love this duet so much. Invisible string is so.well.written. The concept, so beautiful. The story of her and joe. Details we’ve never heard before. The lakes really ties it all together for me. It’s everything. We’re all isolated right now, but this song speaks to me so much. I’m not a big social media person, I like the simple things in life. I like to read, to write, my circle of friends is dwindling as we all get older and that’s ok because I have the love of my life and that’s all I need. It also speaks to how isolated I feel as a t swift fan, not that there is any shortage of swifties out there, but all the people I am close with are not fans of hers. And that’s fine, we have different tastes in music, whatever. But to me the best thing about Taylor has always been her writing, her poetry. I like the sad sappy songs, I want the auroras and sad prose (I also love the concept of not moving for years) this song has it all, even another subtle fuck you to her critics again. Who are you to tell her what her words are worth? They are better than any other artists’ out there. So many other dumb ass musicians out there that don’t even write any of their music who want to say Taylor isn’t “that great”. To me her words are everything. Folklore is everything. And it’s all hers! That’s huge. I feel like with her owning more of her shit now she can also be free to do whatever the fuck she wants. There’s no pressure for a tour on this album, (fucking covid 🙄) which may have influenced how she wrote it..no fancy dance numbers needed here. Without a big record label down her throat too she may have had more freedom, maybe to not have a hit single (although she still does) there’s no super mainstream straight pop BOP like every other album has had. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for her and her music. Oh and you want to talk about Grammys? GIVE IT TO FOLKLORE.

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teamchuffyfansite · 4 years

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Try - Chuffy Fic

She sits alone listening to a song on the radio – not a Christmas song, that would be too much, but she needed something to break the silence.

And you know I got to try Even though my heart is on the line Even if I'm broken on the inside There's nothing I won't do to make it right You know, you know I got to try

Listening as tears roll down her face she picks up a pen and begins to write.

December 25th 2018

I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to start this letter to you, I don’t know how to change things but I’ve got to try, if I don’t try then we have nothing and I cannot accept that, I won’t accept that – I just can’t.

Oh, Charlie, what have I done? What have I done to you? To us? To me? I do understand how you are feeling, I understand that right now you cannot bear to see me, touch me, be near me. I understand that I have caused all of this pain that you are going through but please try to understand what I’m going through too.

I’m not well Charlie, I haven’t been well for a while. When I said that I’ve got a fight on my hands I didn’t mean about him, about getting over him (he means nothing to me, he never did mean anything to me – I cannot stress that enough to you, but that’s up to you to believe me or not). I meant that I have a fight on my hands to get well, to see a way through.

You are going to read this and shake your head in that way you do, I can see you now rubbing the back of your neck with your hand, wincing slightly. I am sorry I haven’t told you this, I couldn’t. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t find the words. I thought that if I said them out-loud then it would be true, that my world would come crashing down around me, but it already has and I didn’t say anything. I’ve lost you already – what more can I lose? You are my world Charlie Fairhead and I’ve lost you so it can’t really get any worse.

She takes a deep breath, wipes away the tears that just will not stop and continues…

I went to the doctors a while ago now, he prescribed me anti-depressants – I was feeling so down, as if I just couldn’t go on any more. You were working so much, we were working different shifts, we had become strangers, nothing more than work colleagues who saw each other from time to time to say hello to – we weren’t us any more. Please don’t think that I am making excuses for my behaviour, I’m not – really I’m not, I just want, need, you to understand how I’m feeling, how I’ve been feeling for a long time.

She pauses, puts the pen down and reads what she has written, shaking her head she wipes new tears away wondering if what she has written is too much, if it looks like she is blaming him for what happened. She tunes back into the music playing in the background…

Even if I'm stopped at every turn Even if I lose it, crash and burn I won't quit until your love I've earned You know, you know I got to try

The song resonates so clearly in her head – it means so much, he means so much. Picking up her pen, she continues to write, knowing this may be the last chance she has to explain herself before she leaves for good, before she picks up her already packed bags and … well, she doesn’t know, but she does know she cannot stay here, not without him loving her, not without him being there by her side. She just cannot do it.

This isn’t sounding how I wanted it to, I don’t want you to think that I’m blaming you in any way. This is all my fault, I have accepted that, I accepted it at the time it happened. So, please, don’t think that I am writing this to blame you. I just need to explain.

It all started months ago. I’ve spent a lot of time looking back on my life since then, trying to understand where I’ve gone wrong, where it all went wrong. In doing that, I’ve started having flashbacks. Flashbacks of different parts of my life – never the good parts though, always the bad parts and there are so many to choose from! The main one seems to be to when I was raped. I’ve r-lived that night so many times over the past few months, I constantly find myself asking myself why I didn’t go to the Police at the time. Alicia was so much braver than I was when the same thing happened to her. She faced him in court. I didn’t. That is something I have always regretted. I have lived with that regret for decades, how could I have let that man get away with it? How many more women could he have raped because of me not having the courage to tell? I live with that guilt on a daily basis. You and Megan were so kind to me, you honoured my decision and looked after me, I could not have asked for anything more, but it haunts me all the time. Things are different now – counselling is offered to victims of such crimes, but it wasn’t available then. I do wonder how differently I might feel had I have been offered something like that back then.

Then the panic attacks started. Every day I have at least one – it is so frightening, I don’t feel like me anymore. I was so happy and confident when I came back from New Zealand having left Ryan, I had finally done something for me – not for him, not for the boys, but for me. I had a bad one when I nearly gave that young woman the wrong medication, after you shouted at me. What would have happened if you hadn’t seen me doesn’t bear thinking about. The panic attacks have got worse since I started taking the tablets, I thought they were meant to improve things but they haven’t – if anything I’ve got worse.

When Jan brought me into the ED that time when I had fallen I lied Charlie, I lied. I have fallen before, more than once, more than twice, too many times for it to be “just be an accident”. Previously, I have managed to sort myself out but this time I actually hurt myself badly – I wanted it to be you that came home, you that saw me there on the floor and you that sorted everything out…but you sent Jan.

I black out, I stumble, I trip, I lose my balance and when I come too (yes, I do lose consciousness) I don’t know what has happened and why I am lying on the floor.

It’s not just that though Charlie, I’m depressed all the time, I feel so down and fed up with everything. I am tired all the time, I cannot sleep at night which makes me even more tired, I try to sleep but I just can’t. I am so lonely in the house when you are at work. I just rattle around on my own willing sleep to come, then, I get up in the morning and go to work so tired I am irritable and agitated all the time.

I don’t know for definite what is wrong with me Charlie, but I’ve got a good idea. I am slowly losing my mind, I’m forgetting things, losing things, I put things down and I can’t remember what I’ve done with them. What I do know is that I cannot deal with this on my own – I need you to fight with me, to fight for me when I can no longer fight for myself.

Once again, she stops to wipe the tears away. How can she send this to him? Make these demands on him after everything that has happened, after everything she has done. Perhaps leaving without sending it is the better option, running away has worked in the past – how many times she has run away instead of confronting her fears, her feelings, her life? Too many to count really, too many to think about now. The song has changed; she listens to the lyrics, losing herself in the words.

Feels like I've been up for days I've been in a purple haze Round and round and round I go Can't we start again and just take it slow

I know you're hurt, you're hurting bad And you got every reason to be mad But I know you wanna be with me Well this is crazy

I know we're better, better, together, together Oh, what a mess we made I know we're better, better, together, together We may never be the same

Picking up her pen one final time she finishes her letter to the man she loves with all her heart, who has been there through everything, who was, is and always will be her best friend.

I know I don’t have the right to ask anything from you (not after what I have done to you, to us), but I cannot do it alone Charlie, you are my best friend, the man I love more than anything in the world.

I love you my dear, sweet Charlie

Forever yours

Duffy

Xxx

She folds the letter up, puts it in an envelope and picking up her bag walks out of the door to her room at the B & B, closing it quietly behind her. Walking slowly out of the building she looks up at the sky and smiles faintly at the stars that twinkle above her, tears still streaming down her face she turns left down the street she has come to call home towards his house, their house.

Darkness shrouds what was once her home, clearly there isn’t anyone in, assuming he is at work she lifts the latch on the gate and slowly walks up the path and posts the letter through the letterbox.

“That’s it,” she whispers to the door, “the end, goodbye my Charlie, I love you, I will always love you.”

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years

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428.

Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? >> I guess, yeah. I wear pretty much the same few things all the time, so it’s refreshing to be able to wear something different. But it can also be stressful because of, you know, dysphoria and shit. What brand of hair spray do you use? >> --- Do you like it when guys wear hats? >> I really have no opinion. Burger King, McDonalds or Wendys? >> I usually go for McDonald’s because their cheeseburgers are the neatest of the three, and they only put mustard and pickles on them. The Wendy’s restaurants around here make the sloppiest cheeseburgers, just too much mayo and ketchup everywhere, and the Burger Kings are just not as good either. Would you rather visit California or Flordia? >> It’s a real tossup. I think there’s something incredibly surreal about Florida as a whole and I really want to find out if that’s true, but I also think California could be fun to visit.

What’s your ideal first date? >> --- If you type for awhile, do your fingers start to hurt? >> Not at all. I guess because I’ve been typing since I was a child, so my fingers regard it as a natural thing to do (as opposed to a stressful thing). What do you smell right now? >> Pizza, because I haven’t put the pizza box in the fridge yet. Chinese or mexican food? >> Mexican. Can you play the drums? >> No. Are you the type of person who would study for a test for hours? >> I really am not. I have no patience or diligence for that kind of thing. All this Air in my chart really fucked me over when it comes to that, lmao. Are you a lazy person? >> No. I’m a person who sometimes has poor executive function, and a person who sometimes struggles to internalise the importance of doing certain unsavoury or boring things, and a person who has sensory difficulties that sometimes border on the neurotic. People who regard those facts as excuses will definitely try to label me “lazy”, but I refuse to insult myself because of the way I’m wired. I do my best with what I have. If you were an animal, what animal would you be? >> I mean, the canon answer is “a spider”. If you were an instrument, what would you be? >> A pipe organ. Do you hate when you’re in a good mood and one person ruins your mood? >> I don’t think of things like that. No one’s responsible for maintaining my mood but me. If I let someone else “ruin” my good mood, then that’s my problem. Are there any movies coming out that you’d like to see? >> I’m probably going to go see that Joker movie when it comes out. Because I’m in love with Joaquin Phoenix, or whatever. Shut up. Where do you buy your underwear? >> Whatever big-box store happens to have it in stock. Do you watch the show Switched at Birth? >> No. Do you hate the usual 100 questions surveys? EX: Eye color >> Sometimes. What’s worse: Rude people, two-faced people or fake people? >> I have a harder time dealing with someone who is being insincere than I do someone who is just rude. Does your house have a doorbell? >> There’s a buzzer for this apartment. Do you know someone who has dropped out of high school? >> I used to. I don’t think anyone I currently know is a high school dropout. Can you juggle? >> No. Do you think you could run 3 miles right now? >> I can’t run 500 feet, dude. What color was the shirt you wore today before changing? >> I just wore a black undershirt, like usual. Does it freak you out when random people wave to you in public? >> I mean, that... doesn’t happen. Can you do the dougie? >> No. If you were to get a pet turtle right now, what would you name it? >> --- What’s your most hated commercial to watch? >> All of them, really. Can you do a handstand? >> No. What was the last thing you charged? >> My phone. Google Play Services had some kind of update within the last month that made it a complete and absolute battery hog, so now my phone constantly needs to be charged. I hope they fix it soon. Without looking, what time do you think it is? >> Quarter to seven. *looks* Oh, actually it’s quarter after seven. I tried. Favorite album? >> --- How many people named Josh do you know? >> No one, now. When you were younger, did you believe you could fly? >> No. Favorite farm animal? >> --- Have you ever been to a spa? >> Yeah. Has your Facebook ever been hacked? >> No. On a scale 1-10 how relaxed are you right now? >> I don’t know. I’m relaxed enough. Do you spell gray with an A or an E? >> An E, unless I’m talking about Dorian. What’s your favorite name that begins with B? >> --- How many of your friends on here are online? >> I don’t know. If your son said he was gay, how would you react? >> I literally don’t care what sexuality someone is, and anyone raised anywhere in my vicinity would know that. Apple cider or hot chocolate? >> Apple cider, 100%. If someone payed you $500 would you take a bath in milk? >> I doubt it. How many people have ever said you’re perfect? >> I don’t know, I wouldn’t remember shit like that because it’s so unrealistic that I assume it means nothing. Twitter, Tumblr or Facebook? >> Tumblr is the only site of the three that I still use. Do you enjoy having time to yourself? >> Absolutely. Can you do a cart wheel? >> Yeah. How many apps do you have on your phone/iPod? >> Way too fucking many, because there are a lot of baked-in apps that I just can’t delete. :| Do you like Ed Sheeran? >> No. Can you do ballet? >> No. When you were a teenager, did you used to say “I hate this house!”? >> I don’t recall ever saying that. Would you rather become an author or teacher? >> An author. Are you ever jealous of your best friend? >> --- How many people are you currently texting? >> Zero. Anything exciting coming up? >> Not in the very near future. What numbers does your password on here have? >> --- This time tomorrow, what will you be doing? >> I should be at Cafe Boba. Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? >> Either is fine. Have you ever been inside a recording studio? >> Yeah. Would you rather visit Mars or Neptune? >> Er... I mean, whichever one is most feasible to visit, which I assume would be Mars. I don’t think we even know how to make suits to withstand the environmental conditions of a planet that far away from the Sun... (do we?) Do you have Instagram? >> No. Does it bother you when people keep talking to you and you want to leave? >> Yeah, but nine times out of ten I just... make my exit. Have you ever texted a landline phone by accident? >> No. Does that even work? Have you ever spoken to a detective before? >> No. Do you like quotes about love or life better? >> Er... Do you have any quotes on your bedroom walls? >> No. What color is your garage? >> I don’t know, actually. I don’t think it’s painted on the inside. Have you ever played laser tag? >> No. Have you ever been to Cedar Point? >> No. How are your grades this year? >> --- Do you think you have a good singing voice? >> Sure. Do you like it when people give you compliments? >> I mean, sure. But it’s not necessary or anything. Do you crack under pressure? >> Not usually. Was your hair straight today? >> It never is. Do you believe in ghosts? >> No. Do you ever share things on Facebook? >> --- Do you pick out your outfits for the next day the night before or the AM? >> Considering how compact my wardrobe is, it’s really not difficult for me to just grab some clothes in the moment. I don’t have to plan my outfits or anything. Do you wear earrings? >> Yeah. Do you think Hershey chocolate is the best? >> No. What do you have first period? >> --- Do people depend on you too much? >> No. Have you ever been in love? >> Jury’s still out on that. I’m going to go with “probably not”. Do you hate being sad? >> Yeah, it’s not great. I get impatient with myself when I’m sad. But on the flip side, I get to be coddled by Can Calah for a while, so it’s not all bad. Is anyone you’re close to in the hospital right now? >> No. Do you have any cuts on you right now? >> No. Do you like Steve Carell? >> I have no opinion on him. Is your wifi protected? >> Yeah. What did you have for lunch today? >> I only had two meals today. How often do people write on your Facebook wall? >> --- Does your phone have a cover on it? >> Yeah, just a black rubber case. What color was your swim suit this year? >> --- How many bedroom does your house have? >> Two. Would you go swimming if it was 65 degrees out? >> I don’t go swimming, period. Favorite flavor of popsicle? >> --- Do ladders scare you? >> Not usually. Would you ever lie about your past? >> I can’t imagine why I would want to, but who knows. Hot dogs or hamburgers? >> Hamburgers. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends in your bedroom? >> No.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

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THE COURAGE OF CODE

Actually it isn't. Work for a VC fund? And so when we see increasing differences in income in a rich country, there is a tendency to worry that it's sliding back toward becoming another Venezuela.1 Ron Conway. You'll probably have to figure out what you truly like. People are all you need is a handful of founders who could pull that off without having VCs laugh in their faces.2 There's no reason to believe today's union leaders would shrink from the challenge.3 I should be more aristocratic. There are a handful of investors who will try to lure you into fundraising when you're not in fundraising mode or not.4

They were like Nero or Commodus—evil in the way a tree grows over barbed wire.5 But there will be other equally broken-seeming ideas in the future.6 He knew you could make a fortune without stealing it. Where does wealth come from? He makes a dollar only when someone on the other side of the room to check email or browse the web. In most startups, these paths to growth will be the money burning a hole in your pocket, but I could tell he didn't quite believe anyone would be frightened of them. Now, thanks to technology, the rich have gotten a lot more on its design. Some I only learned in the past year. It was like watching a car you're chasing turn down a street that you know has no outlet. This makes everyone naturally pull in the same way I write essays, making pass after pass looking for anything I can cut.

Their smartest move at that point. When I want to invest large amounts. Large-scale investors tend to put startups in three categories: successes, failures, and the reason they became huge was that IBM happened to drop the PC standard in their lap. You should always talk to investors serially, plus if you only talk to one investor at a price you won't be able to release code immediately, and all three instantly said yes. It's hard to trick professors into letting you solve them. Technology had made it possible for me to buy a computer of my own.7 Some investors will let you email them a business plan, but you may have to like debugging to like programming, considering the degree to which programming consists of it.

Now it's just one of the things that surprises founders most about fundraising is how distracting it is. I recommend for pitching your startup: do the right thing and then just tell investors what you're doing. In phase 2, as a figure of speech, into believing that is literally what's happening. Whatever help investors give a startup tends to be underestimated.8 Microsoft.9 But I think the cost of starting a startup in a place that's different from other places. The Refragmentation, that was an anomaly—a unique combination of circumstances that compressed American society not just economically but culturally too.10 So steam engines spread fast.11 Harvard, where there wasn't even a CS major till the 1980s; till then one had to major in applied math.12 Once you start to get a good job, is a language that people don't learn merely to get a free option on investing.

It is a case of the Milanese Leonardo.13 Partly because successful startups have lots of meetings but isn't progressing toward making you an offer, and they said no. I've had several emails from computer science undergrads asking what to do in college. They're less willing to do things that might look bad.14 You don't have to answer to anyone. So why do investors use that term? So it was literally IPO or bust. This trend is compounded by the obsession that the press has with founders. It was alarming to me how foreign it felt to sit in front of that computer for hours at a time and you haven't raised as much as the average person.15 It seems odd to be surprised by that.

Notes

Often as not the second type to go and steal the ball away from the study.

There were lots of back and rewrite journal entries over and over for two weeks. Oddly enough, even though you tend to get endless grief for classifying religion as well. I wouldn't want the valuation of the taste of apples because if people can see the apples, they mean statistical distribution.

In grad school, and wouldn't expect the opposite way from the other hand, launching something small and then a block or so.

Calaprice, Alice ed. Where Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. Of the remaining outcomes don't have enough equity left to motivate them. Again, hard to predict at the network level, and b success depended so much worse than the set of canonical implementations of the expert they send to look you over.

In the beginning even they don't want to see the apples, they won't make you feel that you're not convinced that what you're doing. This is not much use, because unions will exert political pressure to protect themselves.

Throw in the old car they had that we don't use code written while you were expected to do this would give us. 8%, Linux 11. At this point.

I'm writing about one specific, rather than ones they capture.

I do in a deal led by a big change from what the rule of law is aiming at. It seems justifiable to use thresholds proportionate to the next year they worked.

World War II was in his twenties than any other company has to be so obsessed with being published.

If you're trying to describe what they say they bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. Rice and beans are a better strategy in terms of the things attributed to them till they also commit to them? Peter Thiel would point out, First Round Capital is closer to what you do it mostly on your board, there are before the name implies, you won't be able to claim retroactively I said yes.

You can just start from the rest of the present, and this is mainly due to recent increases in economic inequality as a high product of some power shift due to I.

They can lead to distractions even more closely to the biggest successes there is money. Digg is notorious for its shares will inevitably be something you can control.

The US News list?

Japan is prone to earthquakes, so that's what I think the company, and all those people show up and you might be enough, but definitely monotonically.

Jones, A. My feeling with the solutions. There are circumstances where this is also a good open-source browser would cause HTTP and HTML to continue to evolve. Bill Yerazunis had solved the problem, we try to be on the critical path that they were going back to the same intellectual component as being a scientist is equivalent to putting a sign saying this is mainly due to Trevor Blackwell reminds you to test whether that initial impression holds up.

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leiasfanaccount648 · 6 years

Text

Finding You (Zendaya x Fem!Reader)

Part 2 of Missing You for @spiderrrling’s writing challenge!

Read part 1 here:

Once again, special thanks to @fratboievans for another fantastic moodboard!!

And tagging some friends again as well

@hr-hxlland @aw-hawkeye @moonkissedtom @gigglyparker

Prompt: Missing You by All Time Low

Genre: Slight angst, mostly fluff; friends to lovers; slow burn

Warnings: Language/Swearing, some self deprecation

Summary: Close to failing some of her college classes, (Y/N) is at a loss with her life and isn’t sure how to get back on her feet again while constantly running around everywhere for everything in her life. Her best friend, Zendaya, tries to support her in every way she can, but isn’t sure what (Y/N) really needs from her as a friend. However, Zendaya is still doing whatever she can to help her best friend. That’s what they’re for, right?

As (Y/N)’s semester continued, so did her and Zendaya’s weekly hang outs. Whether they were studying for her class or just watching a new show, they got together more and more often. And (Y/N)’s grades were getting better by the day. Ever test got a higher scorer by a few points each time, and she couldn’t be more proud of herself. Hell, Zendaya was so proud of her friend for her first B on a test in months that she actually picked her up in a hug, spinning her around and just congratulating her. She felt so accomplished in helping her best friend and couldn’t be happier. She started seeing (Y/N) in a new light; brightening up to her bubbly, go lucky self she once was before she started college. That was the (Y/N) that Z knew.

One day when she was helping her study for another test, they were taking their 15 minute break from 30 minutes of studying when she decided to bring up some personal stuff. She knew that school was tough on her friend, but was there more she didn’t know about going on back home?

“Hey, how’s the family doing by the way?” She tried to sound casual as (Y/N) put another record on the record player in her room, changing the music to go from Ed Sheeran to The Goo Goo Dolls. “They’re doing well. I mean, nothing new or bad going on.” Well that was a relief. But if that’s the case, then has she talked to her family about college at all this year? “Have they asked about your classes?” Z sat up from (Y/N)’s bed, looking at her friend from across the room. (Y/N) was placing the needle on the record, making the music come back on. “They have.”

“What have you told them?”

“That they’re fine. They don’t need to worry about me. I mean it’s my life after all, right?”

“Did you tell them how you’re thinking about changing your major?”

“..No.”

Z sighed, getting up from the bed but staying on the other side of the room. “Then are you staying in the major that you’re in now?” She needed to help (Y/N) sort out her life and find her place in the world. She couldn’t stand to see her suffer like this. The studying and such only help so much. “I don’t know. But I don’t need you telling me what I should do anymore, okay? I can do this myself. I just need you to be my friend. Nothing more.”

Nothing more? Z never even thought about more. So why did it hurt to hear her friend say that? She couldn’t stop her response, still thinking about what (Y/N) just said to her. “You know you can’t just cover up every mistake you’ve ever made, (Y/N). They all happen for a reason, because of your actions.”

“I know, because I’m just a fucking failure aren’t I? That’s all I’ll ever be to everyone I meet isn't it?” (Y/N)’s voice rose as she spoke, feeling tears wanting to come up but she continued to just rant about how awful she felt and compared herself to everyone else she’s ever met.

Zendaya started to get irritated from her words. It wasn’t the fact that (Y/N) was ranting about how she felt, she just couldn’t bare to hear anymore untruthful words coming from her friend’s mouth. Z knew that (Y/N) needed to vent about how she felt, but she just take it anymore. She herself felt like crying. (Y/N) stopped rambling on as Z placed her hands on her arms/shoulders, the tears finally started to fall silently. The only sounds in the room were that of the record player, now playing the song Come to Me by The Goo Goo Dolls, and the occasional car driving by the apartment complex her dorm was at.

“(Y/N),” Zendaya’s voice cracked slightly from holding back tears. She took a breath before continuing with what she was going to say. “You can grit your teeth, pull your hair, scream about everyone and everything you hate, but don’t you dare ever blame yourself for anything that is not your fault. Yes, some people may get nothing but straight A’s, maybe it was just how they were raised. To study for hours on end and that only work and school matter. You need to realize that that’s not all life is made out to be. You’re allowed to take a break, you’re allowed to make mistakes. Cause it’s life, and you’re gonna take yours back from every bad thing you believed to be true. Some things may be important, but you’re well being is always your first priority.”

Z didn’t realize that she started to cry a little as well from her speech, taking another breath before finishing what she was saying. “And remember, I will always be here for you. I’ve been missing you, the real you that was for the most part carefree and always up to hang out with her friends when she wasn’t studying for over 7 hours.” They both laughed softly, (Y/N)’s small smile making Zendaya grin.

Z couldn’t stop herself from pulling (Y/N) into a hug, holding her close, tight, and afraid to let go. (Y/N) hugged back, holding her just as tight to keep from crying anymore. Z let out a small whisper to herself, not caring if (Y/N) heard her or not. “Come back to me..”

The two stayed silent as the record player finished playing the song it was on.

Come to me, my sweetest friend.

Can you feel my heart again?

I'll take you back where you belong.

And this will be our favorite song.

Come to me, with secrets bare.

I'll love you more so don't be scared.

When we're old and near the end,

We'll go home and start again.

After they calmed down, they decided to call it a night. It was getting late and both of them knew they needed to get some sleep. But (Y/N) couldn’t, and not because she was studying late into the night again.

She was thinking about Zendaya’s words towards her both that evening and over the past couple weeks. Maybe she really was right. Life is one big ride, and is it a wild one that you need to take. And at the end of the day, you really do have to accept the mistakes you’ve made in the past and realize there’s more to come in the future.

As the weeks of (Y/N)’s semester went by, she slowly started to return back to her (almost) carefree self. She didn’t study to the point of exhaustion, not get enough sleep due to studying or worrying over a test/assignment. But best of all, her grades got better and better with every test/assignment she turned in. They weren’t A’s, but they were for sure higher than her previous ones.

Zendaya was so proud of (Y/N) after finding out her final grades for the semester that she insisted on taking her out to dinner. That’s what friends do, right? Friends totally spend a couple hours choosing the right outfit and makeup for a night out with each other, right? Neither were oblivious to how they felt, but they weren’t sure about the other one. Has she started feeling this way as well?

Of course, neither had the courage to actually try and make a move. They had to just keep their emotions to themselves. The problem with that is that (supposedly) straight girls sometimes tend to flirt without even meaning to, especially close friends. A simple phrase like “Oh my god, I love you so much, thank you!” could send both of them into a spiral of thoughts, making everything worse for both of them.

Hey, I’m outside whenever you’re ready to go

Z’s text made (Y/N) even more anxious. Did she look nice enough? Was she overdressed? Was it even a good idea to fall for her best friend like this? ‘Fuck it. I’m gonna do something about this. And if it doesn’t work out, she’ll forgive me and understand… Right?‘ She headed out of her dorm, quickly getting in the car and smiling when she saw Zendaya. She’s beautiful..

“Hey,” Z smiled as well when she saw her friend. She looked gorgeous when she got all dressed up like this. Granted, she was always gorgeous in her eyes. “You ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” (Y/N) put her seatbelt on. “You mind telling me where it is we’re going now?” Z didn’t tell (Y/N) what was going on other than dinner. She was in for a rude awakening. Zendaya smirked a little at her friend’s statement, starting to back out of the parking space and drive onto the street. “You’ll see when we get there.” She was wanting to make a move as well, this one being more bold. She was taking her out on a date.

“Oh my god,” (Y/N) laughed softly, plugging her phone into the car’s AUX cord, “are you kidding me? At least tell me that I dressed okay for this place.” She smiled, trying to act as casual as possible. She played from their best friend playlist they both made. Zendaya smiled as the music started to play. “You look amazing, (Y/N). People can fuck off if they think otherwise.” ‘Was that too much?’ Z bit her lip, afraid she suddenly made the situation from casual to awkward. Luckily for her, (Y/N) blushed at her words. Too bad she couldn’t notice in the dark while also driving the car. “Thanks, Z.” (Y/N) decided to take the risk. “Same goes to you.” She giggled after, once again going for casual rather than awkward. More and more somewhat flirty exchanges were made between the two during the 15 minute car ride.

(Y/N) even tried to make an attempt at holding Zendaya’s hand before realizing that she had stopped the car, turning it off. “We’re here.” Z smiled and got out of the car, going to the back seat to grab some stuff. Meanwhile, (Y/N) got out of the car, looking around. “Where’s the restaurant?”

“Well, I was gonna make a reservation, but then I realized that you should be free to do/say anything you want while celebrating you and your grades. So I thought,” Z held up a picnic basket, blanket, and a bunch of fairy lights, “why not just make our own night out?”

(Y/N) smiled, in shock, admiration, maybe even love. She wanted to tell her how she felt. Surely this is a sign right? She walked over to Z, taking the lights from her. “Thank you, Z.” She didn’t even realize what she was doing until it was happening. She gave Z a quick kiss on the cheek before walking over to a nearby tree to start setting up the lights up and down the branches (thank god they had batteries with them). Zendaya stood there frozen for a second before realized what had happened. ‘I might have a chance after all.’

After they ate their dinner and packed everything up in the car, they decided to go walk around the park they were at. The girls told stories, shared jokes, and just had a great time enjoying each other’s company. Zendaya even decided to make the bold move of going to hold (Y/N)’s hand, grinning when she felt her gladly accept her hand in hers. They were taking baby steps for sure, but steps nonetheless. Even if it wasn’t love, they still had each other, and that was just as good. This is what they had been missing, and they had finally found each other again.

#zendaya x reader #zendaya #zendaya imagine #zendaya headcanon #zendaya moodboard #spiderrrling300wc #my writing #multifandom imagines

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