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rootbeerworshiper · 1 month

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chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: an argument with your boyfriend leaves you more insecure than ever, his words ringing in your head until he finds a way to make it up to you.

warnings: angst, hint of fluff not rlly, fem!receiving, so much praise, some use of pet names, slight overstimulation, fingering……yeah!

@nicksmainbitch hopefully you enjoy i tried my best to do your request justice

a/n: this is so short i’m so sorry im working on so many series rn but i wanted to get a oneshot out feel free to hate me

love, sienna <3

“maybe you’re just too insecure to be in a relationship” Chris yells, releasing every ounce of anger he stored away with one simple sentence.

you feel frozen, feet planted heavily in the ground although you’re knees could give out at any moment. this conversation was not supposed to be happening, not here.

not when Chris was supposed to go film a video and especially not when you had a major final coming up—the stress of both things clearly manifesting it’s way into your relationship.

the fluorescent lighting of the boys room sends rays over your whole body, ironically making you feel like a spotlight is shining at you, egging you on to say something in reply—but you can’t.

your body reacts to his words before your brain does, a quivering lip and eyes full of tears that want nothing more than to pour out.

is this really how he saw you? some insecure fragile girl who’s not ready for a relationship?

maybe he’s not entirely wrong about the fragile part, because all you can do is cry, and as pathetic as it may be, it’s the only thing you have the strength for.

you and Chris have been fighting for the past few weeks, it started off as small snarky responses but developed into arguments that left an echo on practically the whole neighbourhood.

subconsciously, you hug yourself, wrapping your shaking hands around your waist to seek some comfort, even if your boyfriend is standing directly across from you.

for a second, you see a glimpse of pity in his eyes, something in his brain telling him for a split second telling him he’s in the wrong, but before he can walk over to replace your hands with his own you snap.

“do you think i’m stupid or something? is that what you genuinely think of me?” you attempt to raise the volume behind your voice but instead it comes out more croaky, more weak.

Chris starts defending himself, as he does far too often. “of course not y/n i just-“

“rachel. you’d rather spend time with fucking rachel than your own girlfriend.”

he’s silent, taking his own turn being dead frozen.

“maybe i am insecure, Chris, but at least im respectful enough to not cancel on my long term girlfriend for some girl i just met on fucking instagram” your sadness is replaced with anger when you lay everything out.

“you know, i had just finished fucking pouring my heart out into my journal about how you’re the one for me, about how i saw a forever with you, and then” you let out a petty laugh. “and then i go on instagram to see my boyfriend, Chris Sturniolo at boa steakhouse with some instagram influencer”

“she’s just a-“ he starts, ultimately getting cut off by your own anger yet again.

“do you know how embarrassing that is for me? going with with some friend to a fucking fancy steakhouse, the steakhouse you took us on our first date to?”

It really is insane when you lay it out like this, even when part of you felt like you were in the wrong, his wrongs outweighed any insecurities you had.

you let out a sigh, seemingly signalling the end to your anger because he begins speaking again. “i know what it looks like, i do. but it’s not like that and i don’t know how else to explain that to you, i think you just need to grow up and understand that i can have girl friends while you’re my girlfriend”

nope. no fucking way.

“i think you need to grow up and realize that you’re dumbass just lost any chance you had at saving this relationship, have fun with rachel” you turn away immediately, slamming his door behind yourself before he can’t even chase you down.

the walk up is uncomfortable, both of Chris brothers splayed out on the living room couch, ready to begin filming a funny car video while you’re walking up the stairs with a red, tear covered face.

they both look to you with sadness, and seemingly an understanding of your position, but their mouths remain closed as you quickly put your shoes on and walk out the door.

————————————————————————

it’s been a week.

you wish you could say you were doing amazing, ridding yourself of a toxic boyfriend and focusing on your own mental health but that was… far from the truth.

but instead you’re crying while watching 10 things i hate about you and eating ramen—not exactly the best way to show you’re the bigger person.

it’s pathetic. scrolling on instagram to constantly check what Chris is doing while you simultaneously have unfollowed him.

relationships are not easy, but deep down you know you’re in the right, you just wanted Chris back… before he met another girl.

you don’t know what made his priorities change. maybe that’s what hurt you the most.

what is it that made you unlovable, what is it that rachel did better than you.

no. you know this isn’t about some girl named rachel, you know this all stems from yourself.

the constant comparisons you made to any girl you deemed better than you, the way it never failed to make you feel terrible about the cards you were dealt.

it was hard enough to except the fact that Chris liked you to begin with, and on one of your many late night walks you had told him that, told him that sometimes you’re lack of self confidence can get the best of you.

and for majority of your relationship he was supportive of that, supportive of you.

so once again, what changed? was it him or was it you?

you let out a heavy sigh, stirring your noodles and lifting the fork to your face when you hear a knock on the door.

it takes a second for you to even comprehend the noise, racking your brain trying to figure out what you had ordered online when you were up till two am sobbing.

either way you need to answer, so you make the embarrassing walk to the door while still wrapped in your fuzzy blanket m, as it replaces an embrace you miss.

you make it down the stairs, expecting a package to be delivered at your doorstep, instead you see him.

he’s stood there, a journal in his hand and an insane look of sorry overtaking his blue irises.

“hi” he says simply, moments before you go to slam the door in his face, his hand being the only thing stopping it from latching onto the hinges. “wait, please” he’s fighting back tears of his own, not that you feel bad for him in the slightest.

“what do you want Chris? i have a romantic comedy to attend to since my life kinda lacks one right now” you say with an ounce of pettiness escaping your teeth.

“y/n please” he squeezes the book in his hand, clutching to it like his life depends on it. “can i come in?”

part of you wants to say no, most of you wants to say no, but he’s Chris, your Chris, and you hate seeing him sad regardless of how much he deserves it. “fine make it quick” you mumble, opening the door fully and walking over to plop yourself on the couch, the boy awkwardly following behind you, as if he is literally walking on eggshells.

he sits beside you, not getting to comfortable as your unwelcoming demeanour leaves him anxious next to you. “i uh” he coughs, sniffling his noise and shaking his mess of hair to the side. “i don’t want you to ever think i’d choose someone else over you, ever. because i couldn’t, i-“ he sighs, as you sit there at stare at him, unsure of how to feel. “i can’t imagine being with anyone else because i see a forever with you”

“did you tell this to rachel too?” your mouth speaks before your conscience can stop yourself.

“no obviously not i mean, i don’t even know what i was doing with her, it was dumb and i don’t even have an excuse for it but i never” he breathes. “i never wanted anything with her, it’s always gonna be you”

it’s silent for a second, you processing his words and him praying mentally you’ll give him another chance. “what’s with the book?” you ask, slightly less anger backing your tone as you gesture to the journal placed in his lap.

“are you gonna promise to not make fun of me?” he says, an innocent look plastered on his face, god you missed his face.

“i can’t promise anything but ill try” you say, smiling out of the fake frown you displayed for him.

he scratches his head. “Matt kinda told me to start journaling a while ago and i thought it was stupid but then when i met you i kinda had too many thoughts to keep in my brain and-“

you place a gentle hand on his bouncing knee. “take your time Chris it’s okay”

he could cry at the contact but he continues speaking, slower this time as per your request. “i needed to write down the overwhelming thoughts i was having about you because im so in love with you i can’t keep it to myself” he sighs. “but i want you to have this because it shows how perfect you are. i never want you to feel lesser than anyone else because to me you’re everything, and im sorry i lost track of that”

you could cry at his gesture alone but instead you lean in, closing the space between the two of you and returning to a pair of lips you’ve been craving for the past week.

he kisses back hesitantly, caught off guard by your sudden act of affection.

the rhythm at which your lips move has you in a trance, beginning as an innocent kiss and immediately becoming more passionate when your tongue explores his mouth, your teeth biting gently on his bottom lip as you pull off. “i missed you”

he smiles, the same dorky smile you missed creating on his lips. “can i make it up to you?” he asks, leaving you confused.

“you already did make it up to me” you say, his head dipping down to your neck before you get a chance to keep speaking, a soft whimper leaving your mouth instead. “oh”

he’s comfortable on your neck, his hands immediately taking the blanket off of your shoulders as he moves himself to hover of you, his knees digging into the rug on the floor. “wanna really make it up to you”

it’s hard for you to speak, his hands cupping your clothed chest giving them a light squeeze before you can say another word, his lips now placed softly on your own.

for a while you’re comfortable like this, but you need more—and by the way you squeeze your thighs together on the cushion, Chris can tell.

his fingers go to lift your sweater off, immediately exposing you to him. “you’re so beautiful” he mumbles, his mouth nod focusing on your nipples as you arch your back into the couch—his tongue swirling your bud and his hands rubs soft lines on your legs.

“missed you so much baby” he’s says quietly, his mouth now placing teasing kisses on your exposed stomach, causing you to inhale at the soft sensation.

his hands now tug at your sweats, a familiar set of eyes looking up at you to ask for permission, all you can mutter out is a quick. “please”

“yeah? you miss my mouth?” he says, causing you to roll your eyes before his hands pull down your sweats and your underwear at the same time, one swift motion leaving you on display for the boy below you.

he kisses your thighs while hands hands work to remove the fabric off of your ankles and it’s safe to say you’re getting impatient, your legs spreading above him the moment the fabric is done restricting you.

“aren’t you just needy” he chuckles, his hands traveling up your sides to make contact with your chest once more. “can i take my time?”

you nod, fighting back a moan as you feel his hot breath over your folds, teasing his entrance.

but instead of giving you what you’re practically begging for he take his hands and props your legs on the couch. “god i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this”

“then get to it” you joke, only receiving a delicate kiss to your inner thigh as a response.

your own hands immediately make their way to his hair, pushing away the strands that cover his face so you can see more of him.

he makes eye contact with you, kissing everywhere on your lower half expect where you’re aching for him. “chris i need-“

there it is.

he kisses your clit, eyes making contact with your own that you could melt under, his innocent gaze as he makes you feel everything but innocent.

it’s unfortunate how much he loves teasing you, especially with make up sex, because his tongue has yet to make contact with you.

“so prefect, just for me” he continues mumbling praises as his hands roam your body.

before you can argue you’re cut off by the contact you were craving, his tongue immediately encapsulating your clit into his mouth and twirling it in slow, sensual circles.

your knees threaten to cave in at the contact but his hands are quick to push them back out as he leaves open mouthed kisses on yourself as you squirm above him.

soon enough the muscle finds a rhythm to follow, flicking up and down at a more intense pace than before. “fuck Chris, so good” you moan out.

your eyes shut almost immediately, the feeling of his warm tongue causing an embarrassingly fast build up in your stomach. “mmm just like that”

you can feel his smile below you, but his tongue doesn’t let up, instead, he places a familiar finger in your soaked centre.

instinctively you arch into him, your body chasing the pleasure that is consistently building throughout your body.

the pace at which he’s moving is addicting, and with the addition of another finger curling into you, you’re a moaning mess.

the tips of his fingers reaching deep inside of you along with the pressure and speed at which is tongue glides on your clit is overwhelming. “baby im” you whimper again. “so close just for you”

that sentence alone was enough to have him speed up, increasing the intensity of his fingers and his tongue.

your hips rut into his face, his one hand still pushing your knee to keep you spread for him.

he doesn’t let out once, your mouth left in an o shape as the pleasure overtakes you, your stomach tensing into his touch as you release onto his fingers.

he pulls his fingers out, his mouth meeting your neck while the pads of his fingers rub your wet clit at a speed that has you dizzy, your legs shutting over his hand as he rocks you through your orgasam. “just like that there you go pretty girl, just for me” he mumbles, mindlessly sucking on your bare neck.

his hands stop when your own arms clutch onto him, signalling the sensitive became too much. “i love you so much and i’m so fucking sorry” you’re too out of breath to reply. “let’s get you cleaned up baby i wanna take you on a date”

a/n: i wrote this so fast bc i gotta go to work and i didn’t proofread (are we surprised) but yeah ily bye

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @sturniolho @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @lovelottos

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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avoxrising · 5 months

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The Feral One • Ch 22

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A short but important chapter tonight!

Content Warnings - None

You jolt awake as the truck comes to a stop. It seems to be evening, meaning the hovercraft ride and drive took the whole day.

Peeta is let out of his truck first. You can’t see where they are taking him but he’s muttering things to himself and looks scared. A soldier opens your door and you are instructed to follow.

Getting out, you finally see who you and Peeta are joining. Gathered around Boggs are Katniss, Finnick, and a few other soldiers from District 13. They are sending you into battle.

Boggs and the others seem shocked by the two new arrivals and Boggs quickly cuffs Peeta, explaining to him that it’s just a precaution until he can get the situation figured out. You hold out your hands to him but he shakes his head. He wasn’t going to cuff you.

Boggs returns to the group and explains that Coin wants you and Peeta in the propos. Finnick explains to you both that your squad isn’t on the front lines, they’re just there to film propos and look cool. Boggs then explains the holo and pods and how we still need to be careful.

Finally, the group grows tense as they debate who will take watch and when. Your head hurts too much to listen so you make your way over to the wall and sit down.

“Are you feeling alright?” Finnick asks you, noticing your sluggish movements.

“Headache,” you mutter.

“How about you get some rest,” Finnick suggests, handing over his sleeping bag to you. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

You wake up screaming an hour later, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Hey hey it’s ok,” Finnick states as he tries to calm you down. One of the soldiers makes a comment about how the screaming may reveal our location but he is quickly shut up by a glare from Finnick.

“Bad dream?” he asks you.

“Tick tock,” you mutter. “The clock… it… I need to talk to Peeta now.”

Finnick worriedly nods and goes to get Peeta. He comes back and is prepared to stay for your conversation but the look you give him tells him it’s a private convo so he leaves.

“Peeta?” you ask the boy, and maybe your only companion in this situation. “What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. “What was your dream about?”

“Clocks,” you say, making Peeta freeze.

“They need to send you back to 13 now,” he states. “It’s not safe for you here. We need to go back!”

Peeta’s outburst garners the attention of the group, causing Boggs and Finnick to rush over.

“She can’t be here,” Peeta tells them. “All her progress is going away the longer she’s here. We can’t stop it. It’s too late. We need to get her out before it gets worse.”

“I can have a medic come check her out but unless it’s a medical emergency I’m afraid she can’t be evacuated,” Boggs states. “Soldier Y/L/N are you feeling alright?”

“Headache,” you mumble.

“If it gets worse I’ll call in medical,” Boggs states. “Until then I’m ordering you to rest. Soldier Odair, I’ll take you out of the rotation tonight so you can monitor her.”

Dinner comes and you are starving. You eat all of your food and some of Finnick’s too. The headache is still there but you’re starting to manage.

After dinner you curl up next to Finnick in your own sleeping bag. You won’t let him touch you but you’ve instructed him to sedate you if you start screaming again. Sleep comes too easily for you.

Tick tock

A poisonous fog crawls back into your mind as your head screams in pain. Your arms are on fire as the sound intensifies.

Tick tock!

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #thg finnick #finnick #finnick fluff #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #mockingjay #the feral one

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daisyblog · 1 year

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Unexpected Visitor

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN has an unexpected visitor.

It had been a few months since Harry had began filming for Don't Worry Darling. YN had always been supportive of Harry and any opportunity he was given. She has supported him through his time in One Direction, when he decided to go solo when the band went on a break. Even when they weren't on talking terms for a while, YN still supported him silently behind the scenes, she was his biggest fan.

It was evening time, Harry had been on set all day and decided he needed to go for a run just to get some sunlight. YN was at their house in LA, enjoying the sunshine in the garden with Teddy as they waited for Harry to return. It was a Friday evening, which usually mean't it was pizza and wine night in the Styles/Tomlinson household.

So YN was surprised when she heard the buzzer at the front gate. She wasn't expecting any guests, due to the pandemic and also Harry knew the code to enter. Looking at the camera that showed the front gate, she noticed an older woman with wavy dark hair. As the woman turned to face the gate, YN recognised her as the Director of the film. Pressing the open button on the screen, YN headed to the front door ready to greet the guest.

As Olivia noticed YN stood at the front door, her eyes widened slightly. "Oh hi, I'm looking for Harry".

"He's just popped out, can I help you?" YN politely smiled at the older woman. She had never felt small but standing in front of a powerful woman, YN felt insecure.

“Oh Harry invited me over, sorry but who are you?” Olivia asked as a frown appeared on her face as she eyed YN up. YN thought she may have been joking, but when she raised her eyebrows at her, she realised that she was being serious.

“Sorry, how rude of me, I’m YN..Harry’s girlfriend” YN continued to be polite, even though she felt something didn’t feel right.

The older woman looked confused as she questioned “Girlfriend?”.

“Uh yeh…sorry am I missing something here?” YN wasn’t one to hold back, if something needed to be said then she would have to say it.

Olivia was quick to explain “I am so sorry, Harry never mentioned he had a girlfriend…I would never have accepted his invitation to come over if I knew”.

YN’s heart was telling her that Harry would never do something like this. She wasn’t sure what Olivia’s motive was but something just didn’t sit right.

“Well you’re welcome to come in and wait if you’d like too”. She was more determined than ever to keep up the kind persona, not wanting to jeopardise Harry’s career.

Panic appeared on the older woman’s face. “Oh no…no..no that’s okay, I’ll be on my way..sorry again for disturbing you”. YN watched as the director hurried down the gravel drive, not giving her a chance to say anything else.

---

“Repeat that again….she just turned up and said Harry’s never mentioned you” Louis voice spoke through the speaker of YN’s phone as it sat on the kitchen island.

“Yeh pretty much” YN agreed. Despite knowing it couldn’t be true, YN still had insecurities and doubt crossed her mind. “Lou��do you think she was telling the truth?”.

“Tiny c’mon, you can’t think it’s true…that boy loves the fookin’ bones off yeh” Louis tried to reassure his sister, no doubt in his voice.

YN nibbled on her lip as she thought. “I know he does, I just don’t want to lose him again Lou”.

“None of that shit…you and Harry had a blip but you’re strong yeh”.

“Yeh…you’re right…I miss you” YN admitted. She hated not being able to see her family, especially her older brother, who always played the role of her best friend, her go to person for advice.

“I miss you too Kiddo…but we’ll see each other soon yeh”.

—-

YN was in the kitchen with Teddy following her every move when Harry arrived back. His black T-shirt sticking to him from the sweat that covered his body.

Entering the kitchen, Harry noticed YN standing there deep in thought as she was mindlessly stirring her cup of tea.

“Hey baby” Harry’s voice startled her, making her jump and leave out breath.

“You’ve got to stop doing that” YN pleaded, Harry chuckling knowing it’s a regular thing.

Harry sensed something was wrong because before he’d left for his run, YN was her chirpy and bubbly self, but now she was withdrawn and her thoughts seemed elsewhere. “Everything alright?”.

YN paused deciding if she should tell him. “Uh…Olivia came here looking for you”.

Harry frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. “What…why?”.

YN shrugged her shoulders, wondering the same thing. “She said you had invited her over”.

Harry let out a chuckle at YN’s words. “No I didn’t…why would I do that?”.

“She also said that she didn’t know you had a girlfriend”.

Harry scoffed at this. “Yeh o’course she didn’t”.

YN had a feeling there was more to this than what she originally thought. “Harry, what’s going on?”.

Harry began to play with his bottom lip, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation to YN. “I don’t know…I thought she was just being friendly but...the last few weeks she been acting strange towards me..but turning up here is crossing the line…she knows about you…fucking hell the whole set knows about you…Florence wants to meet you because I talk about you so much” Harry rambled on.

“Bubs…calm down” YN walked around the island to wrap her arms around his torso. “I trust you…you know that”.

Harry placed a peck on her forehead as he squeezed her slightly when his arms landed on her shoulders. “Sorry...I just hate how many times you've had to deal with this sort of thing".

"It's your fault...nobody can resist your charm" YN tried to make light of the situation, despite feeling a bubble of anger in her lower stomach at how another woman was trying to come between her and Harry.

---

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marvelous-maeve · 2 years

Note

22“You’re a mess; have you been crying?” and 23“I can tell you’ve been crying.”

billy comforts the reader who is dealing with school stress, maybe even first year of college stress when reader comes back home

(1.0k words) gif is not mine!

You slam the door of your car shut, a quiet sniffle follows the sharp bang of the door. Your recent days had been riddled with bad sleep, road rage and awful gas station food as you made the journey across the country back to Hawkins. You had recently gone away for college, and as the first year came to a grinding halt, it seemed so did your state of mind. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

The car jolts again to a sharp stop, slight smoke coming from the hood; “Are you fucking kidding me?! Not again, for Christ’s sake!” This being the second time your car had broken down this journey, clearly, you weren’t in the mood for this. “Such fucking- such bullshit, I swear-” you mumble inaudibly. You lift your head up at the slight smell of diesel, a gas station a couple hundred yards away. “Thank fuck!” you throw your hands up, lock your car and dig your hands in your denim jean pockets, in search of just a few coins. Surely they had to have a payphone, or you could pay to use the phone in the station at the very least. You jog ever so slightly, the payphone just in your eyeline. $1.00 for 4 minutes; you look in your hand, you only have 25 cents in change. Why, oh why did you have to leave your stupid wallet in the car?

You punch in the numbers you may as well have tattooed on you, as you know them completely off by heart now. It rings. And rings, and rings. Until it goes to voicemail. “Fuck!” You slam the phone back down on the receiver, kicking the wall behind it. Warm tears are now rolling down your face uncontrollably, and you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Y/N?” a voice calls from behind you. You whip your head around to the figure standing there. The pink and yellow of the setting sun shines on his face: Billy. His face is filled with worry, yet surprise. He knew you were making the journey down, that’s why he was at this shitty gas station, to grab some snacks for you and him for the next few days, then to head to Family Video to rent Sixteen Candles for you again (no matter how much he hated that damn film).

“Sweetheart, what’re you doing here?” he asks, pulling you towards him gently. He doesn’t even have to say anything, his touch and presence is enough to comfort you for a lifetime. You open your mouth to respond, a whimper and the dried tears fail to reassure him. “I-I’m sorry-” you try to murmur out, soft sobs falling from your lips.

“Oh sweetheart, c’mere.” he pulls you gently to his chest, one hand gently on your head, the other around your waist. Although you try to contain your sobs, you just can’t. Your sobs are muffled by his jacket, his hands kneading your waist lightly to soothe you. “What happened? Where’s your car?” he pulls away, holding your chin with two fingers, looking into your eyes.

You explain what happened, and he again pulls you close, sighing softly into your hair. “I’m sorry sweetheart, that’s shitty.” You nod in agreement, not wanting to say anything in case your voice fails you again. “How about this? I’ll drive us home after I’ve got us our snacks, we’ll call a guy to take in your car n’ have a look at it, yeah?” his hands falls from your hair to your neck, he pulls away to look at you, waiting for your response.

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah, was on my way to Family Video after, I know how much you love that shitty movie. And I know Max wanted to see it with you too.” His words are now muffled again as his cheek is squished against the top of my head.

“Can we get pizza too? The one with olives n’ stuff.” you ask, giving your best puppy dog eyes. “And it would be nice to see Stevie and Robin again, haven’t seen them in so long.”

He sighs. Him and Steve will never be friends, but they had an unspoken agreement that they would be civil for you. “Yes, fine we can go see Harrington too.” You squeal in excitement, “But! Not all night, they’re not hogging you again.” you fake frown, a small pout forming on your lips, and small giggles erupt from your chest.

“You know you love themm!” you sing. You know he doesn’t like Steve, but he does like Robin in some strange way.

“Yeah, Buckley’s okay. She doesn’t talk too much, or steal you from me.” he grins. “So!” he claps his hands. “What snacks are you feeling tonight?” he smiles at you again, gripping your hand as you both walk towards the sliding doors of the convenience store.

“Definitely Pringles. Oh! And Ben & Jerry’s! Brownie’s so good!” you jog towards said area, pulling him along. He grins widely, not that you can see it. Oh, what this man wouldn’t do for you. He listens intently to your childish babble about what flavor of Ben & Jerry’s is best, and although he absolutely disagrees with your options, he would never tell you that. Your erratic chattering is a huge difference to the soft sobs just a few minutes ago. It makes him realize how much he can lift your mood (and he totally won’t brag about that). The juxtaposition of the two scenes that just played out repeat in his head, and he chuckles softly to himself, grabbing your attention. You turn to him, holding two Ben & Jerry’s tubs in both your hands. “What?” you ask, chuckling lightly too.

“I really love you, you know?” he smiles, it’s one of his really genuine smiles that you love.

“I know!” you sing. You squeal as he grabs your waist to tickle it. Your laugh rings out in the oddly quiet convenience store, and my God, is that the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

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michelle-is-writing · 11 months

Text

Missing You, Ben Hardy

Since Ben left for filming a couple months ago, I’ve been okay. Of course, I’ve been missing him ever since he left. The text messages and phone calls have made up for the lack of conversations we used to have, and the constant pictures he sends me help me still feel connected to him. But lately, I’ve been missing him the hardest, and I couldn’t tell you why either.

During the day, I’m fine. I go about my daily rituals as usual, but at night, when I get ready to go to bed, it’s like I’m hit with a mix of sadness and longing for Ben to be back by my side. Some nights, I can’t fall asleep until it’s past three or four in the morning. I can’t explain why - it’s just something that happens now.

For some reason, tonight is the worst it’s ever been for me. I’ve tried everything I can to fall asleep. I’ve taken melatonin, turned off every bright light, made sure that there were no noises coming from anything, turned my phone off, everything. I even tried to meditate for a while, but I eventually gave up when I realized it wasn’t working for me either. I've also had “relaxing” music playing since I first started getting ready to go to bed, but that obviously didn’t work either.

Every time I close my eyes, images of Ben flash in my mind. I remember specific times like when we go out together and just enjoy each other's time. I’m also reminded of the times when we go out with friends and how Ben always holds me to him in front of everyone with his arm tight around my waist and my back pressed against his chest. It makes me feel like he’s so thankful to have me there with him when he does this. More importantly, I remember the times when he said things exactly like that to me. Hearing the love of your life say, “I’m so happy to have you in my life,” is something that you’ll cherish and remember for a very, very long time - if not forever.

The only problem with that is with moments like these when you can’t be with them. In that case, you’re left to simply think about that special person rather than see or hear them. You can’t hold them or love on them. You can’t even laugh with them and see their face crinkle up because of that laughter. So, you’re left to miss them immensely, and it sucks.

It really sucks.

Looking over at my alarm clock, the bright red lights tell me it’s almost 4:30, and I’m left to groan in response. Last night, I didn’t pass out until 3, and I had to wake up for work today with only 4 hours of sleep in my system. I don’t want to have another night like that. Granted, I may not have to work tomorrow, but still. I don’t want to fall asleep at the same time people are getting up to start the day if I can help it.

Frankie beside me stirs in her sleep before getting up and heading out into the living room. At that, I kind of laugh. She must’ve gotten tired of me constantly tossing and turning. I’m tired of it too, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.

With a sigh, I turn on my side toward the wall and try to close my eyes once more. At first, I’m joyful that finally, nothing pops up. No images of Ben or anyone else. Just the darkness of what I’m hoping is looming sleep.

For a few moments, this lasts until I start thinking about how nice Ben’s touch felt against my skin. The way his slightly rough hands had such a gentle grasp when he touched me is something that can wake me up instantly, but I’m trying to not let the memory of it do that. However, reminiscing on his touch seems to be too much for me as I actually feel his touch on me now despite him being six hours away. The mind can certainly be one powerful thing.

“Are you awake?”

As soon as I hear Ben’s voice, my eyes shoot open and I quickly turn over to see him standing by the side of the bed, a smile on his face. Granted, the only light in the room is the dim red hue coming from my alarm clock, so I’m assuming the lines on his cheek mean he’s smiling.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, nearly jumping out of bed to throw myself at Ben. Thankfully, he’s quick to catch me in his arms, but that doesn’t stop us from tumbling down onto the floor with a soft thud, resulting in laughter coming from Ben. Conversely, I immediately pull back to look at Ben despite the room still being pitch dark.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, my hands searching his face and head for any injury, again, in complete darkness. His answer comes to me in even more laughter, his hands quickly finding mine to press soft and gentle kisses to the skin.

“Darling, I’m fine, but I do have to say that was one of the best welcome home greetings I have ever gotten,” Ben assures me before leaning forward to press another kiss to my lips, but his lips meet the side of my nose instead. We both know that one of us should really turn the light on so we can see each other, but going by the fact that I’m on top of Ben, it’ll have to be when I decide to let go of him.

Smiling, I nuzzle my face into his neck. “I’m just happy you’re home,” I tell him, sitting back on his lap so I can turn on the bedside lamp. Ben’s hands instantly make their way to my hips when I do this, his fingers lightly massaging the skin of my exposed waist as soon as they make contact. Once the room has some light flooding through it, I look down at Ben and smile upon seeing his face after so long of having to settle for just pictures or FaceTime. He smiles back at me, a happy sigh falling from his lips afterward.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, darling,” Ben murmurs, a blissful gaze falling over his face. Sliding his arms up from my hips, he rests them against my back all while simply holding me to him as we lie on the hardwood floor of our bedroom. “Could hardly sleep without you, it was horrible.”

At his words, the corner of my lip upturns knowing he missed me too, but at the same time, he probably suffered the same sleep deprivation as me. “I had a hard time sleeping while you were gone too,” I tell him, feeling my body begin to relax on top of him. “I haven’t gotten much sleep either, especially tonight,” with a smile, I press a kiss to Ben’s jaw as I lean my head up a bit. “It's a good thing since you got home early, babe.”

Ben smiles with me in response to my words before swiftly sitting up with me still clinging to his body, my legs now on either side of him as his face rests mere centimeters from mine. The action surprises me for a short second until I let out a small giggle, my brain reminding me of my boyfriend’s superhero muscles that allow him to do those things with me, things that make me absolutely crazy.

“Let’s get back into bed, yeah?” He suggests, standing up with one hand pushing him off the ground and the other keeping my body against his. Once again, I cling tightly to him, my rigid stature only relaxing when my back makes contact with our bed. However, Ben doesn’t move, and instead, he remains on top of me. After a few moments, I speak up.

“Are you comfortable?” My question makes Ben quietly laugh as he knows putting his entire weight on me is not always comfortable, but I won’t complain either.

"I always want to be on top of you, love," He tells me with another sly chuckle before shuffling down in the bed. Now lying mostly on my torso and in between my legs, Ben peers up at me from where he lays his head on my stomach. “How about now? Are you comfortable?”

“Very,” I tell him, moving a hand to comb through his blonde locks. Once my hand touches his head, Ben nuzzles his face against my hand like earlier. In only a matter of seconds, Ben's eyes fall shut as he a soft sigh leaves his nose.

“I missed you… so much,” he admits, “I’d really like it if you came with me next time, even if it’s just for a week,” Ben’s eyes open after his last statement, looking intently at me as I process his suggestion. It would be great to spend that time with him, but I never asked before as I didn't want to distract him while he works.

"As much as I loved your greeting from earlier," Ben speaks up once more, breaking me away from my thoughts and over I’d love it even more if you greeted me like that after filming.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy x fem reader #ben jones #roger taylor x fem!reader #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: We Showed The World That We Exist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: Kamaria and Walter play hooky to deal with unforeseen stressors.

Chapter warnings: panic attack (dissociation episode), oral sex (f receiving), finger fucking, therapy session, squirting

A/N: Time jumps in this chapter. We’re only skipping a couple of days but it may be a little jarring. But Yada is back!! Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Cross-posted on AO3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV

Word has spread like wildfire around the office about me and Walter dating. It didn’t take long at all for news that the grumpy bear of a detective and the new intern are fucking. We actually aren’t even doing that, yet. It’s only been a few days but the rumor mill in the police station is like a damn high school hallway. And I have Nina and Sophie to thank for that.

I swear, no one listens to interns. Like, ever. Unless it is about gossip. And I made friends with the loudest, and the actual kindest, gossipmongers. I know they mean well, they’ve made it clear they are glad that Walter smiles more. I like being the cause of his change of mood, as well.

With everyone aware of our relationship, things are kind of weird. Like, weird around the ex, kind of weird.

It’s not like Rachel and Walter were super friendly after they decided not to date. Sometimes, and I would never tell Walter this, I feel like he felt for Rachel because she saved his life. A case of transference, perhaps?

But, they at least seemed cordial towards each other. Rachel felt enough of a connection to reach for his hand, the thought still burns in my mind. But Walter and I did have our first kiss after that, so grain of salt, ya know?

Rachel just seems like someone pissed in her oatmeal every time she walks by me. She couldn’t possibly be jealous of me. I don’t get her, honestly. Is it an “if she can’t have him, no one can” thing? Because I wouldn’t have thought she would go for pettiness. Never underestimate a woman on a mission, though.

Walter and I agree to get to work a bit early so we could hang out in his office until I have to start work. The man may be seen as prickly by most people in the office, but it is like night and day when it comes to me. He can be so thoughtful, and so in tune with my emotions that it can be like he’s reading my mind. Which is both cute and slightly annoying, because I can never hide what I’m feeling.

Like this morning, for example. My mind has been racing. So many things to think about, from my work to Walter to Rachel to my anxiety about dating openly in the office to what I’m going to choose to talk about in therapy today. And I can’t seem to make it stop or slow down. Which is when I feel a hand on mine.

I look up to see Walter crouching next to the chair I’m sitting in. I don’t remember sitting down. I barely remember walking into this office.

“There she is,” he says, brushing a hand over my confused brow, “you had me so worried back there.” I notice the fear in his eyes now.

“Sometimes, my anxiety takes over and I just check out,” I mutter, looking around the office, “I remember getting out of my car and kissing you and then nothing until just now.”

“Does this happen a lot?” I hear the tremble in his voice but I don’t mention it.

“Hasn’t happened in months. I can usually sense it before other people can, though. Sort of like a panic attack, but not really because I don’t panic, I just…move? It’s hard to explain,” I ramble on, trying to get my bearings.

“It sounds like your brain is working on autopilot due to stress. I’m no therapist, but I’ve seen how stress can affect people in different ways,” he suggests, holding my hand in his, “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but a new relationship becoming public can be quite stressful. Especially when it’s in a work setting where one person’s ex is also a coworker. It’s no wonder you’re feeling like this.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I can’t deny that it is a lot,” I concede, feeling all sorts of vulnerable.

“You have therapy today around 1, right?” he asks before I nod to confirm, “And where is your therapist’s office?”

“Well, I was going to do it virtually today. But she’s close-ish. Between here and my apartment,” I answer, wondering where this is going.

“I have a suggestion, which you are more than welcome to decline. But, in my head, it sounds like a good id-”

“Baby, you’re babbling,” I laugh, stopping his rant.

“I think you should ask to see your therapist in person. We can take the rest of the day off and I could drive you to the appointment if you’d like,” he urges, “Besides, it’s the weekend. They won’t mind if we skip out a bit early.”

“Skip out early? I didn’t even clock in yet,” I remind him, still thinking about work instead of my mental health. Very typical of me.

“Perfect, then. I still have personal time to use, and you told me you were given some personal time when you signed on, so that covers today. We’ll let your manager know you’re not feeling well on the way out,” he says, moving about his office and collecting his things before realizing I’m yet unmoving, “Fuck! Did I just plan your entire day?”

I smile up at him, adoration in my eyes. “You did, but with the best of intentions,” I comment, standing up from the chair, “You’re right, though. I kinda need the routine of going into the office today and I could use a day off even if it’s only my first week.”

“Look at you, already smiling. I count that as a win,” he hums, reaching for my hand, squeezing as our fingers interlace.

We head out of the station after a short talk with my boss. Tell a man you’re having ‘feminine trouble’ and he all but shoos you out of the building. Thank God for small favors.

Walter heads home after insisting I go home to change clothes and grab whatever I needed to feel comfortable for the rest of the day at his place. Arriving home, I immediately start to pack my overnight bag. I choose to ignore the nagging voice questioning my actions. I might want to stay over or change clothes again for some reason. So, take that, Nag-atha Christie!

I call my therapist’s office and request to come into the office today. I say that my schedule has changed and I would prefer to be seen in the office. The receptionist is super sweet and lets me know she will inform Yada of the change. I hope Yada doesn’t worry. I mean, I’m slightly worried about my little episode earlier but I feel at least a bit better now.

I change into some yoga pants, a loose-fitting top, a hoodie, and some comfy old sneakers. I spot Beary Allen sitting atop my bed and resign to bringing him over to Walter’s house as well. I usually can’t sleep without him so I don’t chastise myself too much for bringing along something for comfort.

I check my overnight bag to make sure I have everything I need, and some stuff I don’t need but I want to have just in case. And if I reach into my nightstand and grab condoms, then that is my business until it is Walter and I’s business. Not that I plan on doing anything, but I like being prepared for multiple eventualities. In any case, I refuse to let myself feel anything but poised for success. I also refuse to define success, so there’s the end of that.

I hear Walter’s text tone going off in my pocket and pull out my phone.

Walter Marshall: Didn’t change your mind did you, Princess?

Me: Of course not!

Me: I was just making sure I have everything

Me: Including Beary Allen

Me: 😁

Walter Marshall: The…Flash? But like, a bear?

Me: I love that you get exactly what I meant

Me: And you haven’t even met Beary

Walter Marshall: I was right???

Me: You’ll meet him soon

Me: He’s my emotional support animal

Me: I’m leaving now to come to you

You have shared your location.

Me: Now, you can tell where I am at all times

Me: Just as a safety thing

Walter Marshall: Wow ok

Walter Marshall: Thank you for trusting me with this

Me: You’re welcome

Me: Try to act like you didn’t follow my location the entire time I was on my way to your place 😉

Walter Marshall: No promises

I’m already back in my car by the time his text comes through, I know he’s gonna follow me the whole way to his house. It’s honestly adorable. I can tell he misses me when I’m not around. He likes me, and I like him too. It doesn’t take me long to get to his house and he’s standing outside when I park in the driveway.

“You failed to play it cool, Detective,” I laugh, grabbing my overnight bag and Beary from the passenger seat before exiting my car.

“I never promised to play it cool,” he smiles, reaching out to take my overnight bag from me, “Hmm, planning on staying a bit?”

“I figured it would be best to be prepared,” I propose, clutching onto Beary, secretly glad that Walter didn’t offer to take him as well. No one has ever touched Beary besides me.

“May I address Mr. Allen directly? Or does he only speak with you?” he poses the question completely seriously.

It takes every ounce of my resolve not to melt. “You may address him directly.”

“Mr. Allen, may I call you Beary?” he waits for a response, “I just want you to know I plan on taking care of Kam during her stay here, however long that may be…Yes, of course…I wouldn’t dream of it. So we have an understanding. Shake on it?” He reaches out and shakes Beary’s tiny paw, winking at me as he pulls his hand back. If he’s not careful, I will fall so fucking hard for this man.

Walter takes my hand, kisses it gently, and brings me inside. I start to lean down to remove my shoes, but he stops me and kneels to do it himself.

“You don’t have to-” I start, before being cut off.

“I know I don’t have to, Princess,” he agrees, placing my shoes next to his, “but I want to take care of you today, so allow me to do so, please?”

I open my mouth to protest, but a stern look from Walter makes me rethink that choice and only nod.

“Good girl,” he praises, standing up to hover over me, “I know it must be hard to let someone take care of you, but since I’ve taken on that role, I plan on not having you lift a finger if I can help it. Sorry, not sorry.”

“That’s some Prince Charming shit right there,” I blurt out, there goes my filter flying away in the wind again. Luckily, Walter just laughs at that and kisses my forehead.

We end up hanging out around his house for a few hours, having far too many snacks and too much coffee. What can I say, we’re both caffeine addicts and snack goblins. The only reason I ignore the voice telling me I’ve had enough snacks is the fact that Walter is hand-feeding me pieces of fruit. He was not kidding about me not lifting a finger. I could get used to this.

Before long, Walter is helping me put my shoes on so that we can head to my therapist appointment. He opens his truck door for me and even buckles me in, shooing my hands away. Holding my hand as he drives, he allows me to pick the music we listen to. When I joke ‘but I thought the driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole’, he has no clue what I’m talking about. I explain it away as a tv show reference, making sure to force him to watch Supernatural with me at some point.

As The Amazing Devil’s ‘Two Minutes’ is ending, we are pulling up to Yada’s office. I don’t even try to reach for my door handle, waiting for Walter to come around to my side of the vehicle. He lifts me out of the truck and I try not to smile too wide at that. Holding my hand as we cross the parking lot, he steps in front of me to open the door, allowing me to walk in first. I check in with the receptionist and we sit in the lobby holding hands again. This man likes to hold my hand, and I am not complaining about it.

I hear Yada’s office door open and she steps out to greet me. She visibly registers my hand intertwined with the man to my left. I stand, pulling Walter up with me by accident.

“Don’t worry, he’s gonna wait out here. Let’s go,” I sputter, moving past Yada and into the office. I notice Yada isn’t following me when I sit down. I hear introductions being exchanged and silently die inside. Why does it feel like my mom is meeting my boyfriend? Wait, is he my boyfriend? Oh my God, is he my boyfriend?

Yada comes back into the room and sits in her armchair, grabbing her notebook and writing quickly in it before addressing me. “So, let’s address the elephant in the room, or should I say the giraffe in my lobby. That man is tall as hell. And very pretty,” she jabbers on, smiling away at me, “Tell me all about him.”

I go on to tell her we met, or more correctly he saved my life, just before my last therapy appointment. I mention Faye and that we haven’t met yet. I talk about being in almost constant communication since I gave him my number on Monday. We discuss how he likes to take care of me, and that he did so after I told him about the whole Christopher thing. During this, she is taking notes in her book. When I bring up my episode this morning, she looks up at me.

“So, it sounds like Walter was able to ground you during a moment of dissociation. About how long did it last?” she asks.

“For just a few minutes. I remember getting out of my car, but from walking into the station to Walter effectively ‘waking me up’...it’s just like I was watching myself move but I wasn’t totally in control.” I murmur, finding my favorite spot on the rug.

“I see, can you remember this ever happening before?”

“The last time it happened was maybe five or six months ago after I had to quit the job at the prison infirmary. It was just too stressful. And I guess I have been kinda stressed the past couple of days. Everybody at work knows Walter and I are dating thanks to a couple of friends I made. Nina and Sophie are sweet but they have loose lips.”

“Either way, I am glad you made friends,” she smiles, taking a note, “Are there any other stressors besides a new public relationship?”

“His ex works at the station too. She’s been kinda giving me the stink eye when we pass each other. She hasn’t said or done anything. But like, she obviously still feels something for him,” I admit, rolling my eyes, “But if that chicken thinks she’s getting anywhere near my coop, she has got another thing coming.”

“Calm down, we don’t need you to be unprofessional in the workplace, no matter how she acts toward you,” she reasons, even though I only half-listen, “Does Walter know about Rachel’s behavior?”

“No, because I don’t want to sound like I’m crazy. I feel crazy. She probably just has resting bitch face?”

“I think you should tell him about the looks she has been giving you. Get his opinion on it before you discount your feelings completely. He might be able to shed some light on her behavior, or even better, he may be able to speak with her on terms she can understand. And that don’t involve you clubbing her like a seal and hiding the body behind the police station. But you didn’t hear that from me. That’s off the record, Your Honor.” she muses, winking at me before taking notes.

I agree to talk to Walter about Rachel and we decide this will be my homework for this week. Not difficult, but still awkward to start speaking about. I mean, how do you tell your significant other that their ex is problematic without seeming territorial or threatened? Rachel doesn’t strike me as the type to try and come in between Walter and me, but I will be keeping my eyes peeled.

“So are you and Walter using protection?” Out of nowhere, Yada hits me with that question.

“Yada! We haven’t even done anything yet? Jesus, woman,” I cover my face, happy again that my espresso skin doesn’t show the heat behind my cheeks.

“Yet being the optimal word. Got it. Well, use protection. You have every right to have sex and every right to protect yourself. So, don’t be coming round here saying ‘we got caught up in the moment’. Because so did Romeo and Juliet and look how that ended,” she deadpans, throwing her hands up.

“Did you just…never mind. We will use protection. When we get to that point. I’m in no rush and I can’t speak for him, but he at least respects my boundaries.”

“He sounds like a good egg. I like him already. He respects boundaries, he’s attractive, he’s got a stable income, and he liiiiiikes you,” she beams, rising from her armchair to go to her desk.

“I’m glad you approve because I like him and it just feels right with him. We connect so easily,” I say, noticing Yada is looking at me and shaking her head, “What now?”

“You are falling for him, girlfriend, don’t you see that?” she commented matter-of-factly.

“Shut up, no I’m not,” I answer grumpily.

“Alright, but you are,” she states, tilting her head, “There is nothing wrong with that, by the way.”

“I know. I’m just afraid of moving too fast. That’s kind of my way of doing things, and I don’t hate it but I don’t necessarily like it much either.”

“Love it or hate it, it is a part of you. And you either have to learn to thrive despite it, or work toward changing the behavior. But you know this already, Kamaria.”

“You’re right about that, but I still like the option of just complaining about it,” I confess, shrugging my shoulders.

“Either way, it is your choice. You are still scheduled virtually for next week. You have your homework, as well. Anything else you wanna gab about before we end today’s session?”

“Nope,” I say, letting the ‘p’ make a pop sound.

“Well, then I will let you get back to your tall, dark, and handsome fella,” she smiles, getting up to walk me out. We exit her office and she smiles at Walter, addressing him directly. “She has homework and it involves you, so don’t let her forget.” How she gonna do me like that?!

“Thanks, Yada,” I groan.

Walter is enjoying this way too much because he decides it’s best to pat my shoulder while saying, “Don’t you worry, I won’t let her forget.” He just smiles when I give him a glare that rivals the fire of a thousand suns. He probably thinks it’s cute or something. He holds his arm out to let me exit before him and I’m happy for this because then he can’t see me cursing his very existence. I still let him open the door for me. I also let him open the truck door and buckle me in. By the time he gets into the vehicle, I’m reaching over to hold his hand.

“Done being mad at me, then?” he jokes, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

“Feed me and we’ll see if I can’t be swayed,” I advise, winking at him.

We grab a quick late lunch and head back to his place. I take a nap for a couple of hours and am awoken by the hearty scent of tomato sauce. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the couch, but I’m waking up in a bedroom underneath a light blanket, Beary tucked into my side. Walter must have moved me in here so I wouldn’t be disturbed. He can be so sweet sometimes, I wonder how long he can keep this up.

I get up from the bed, leaving Beary behind and I walk out to the living room to see Walter hard at work in the kitchen. He doesn’t notice me so I sneak up behind him and goose him. He doesn’t react, as if he knew I was coming.

“What makes you think I didn’t hear you from the moment you opened my bedroom door?” he began, only turning slightly to wink at me before returning to slicing french bread for garlic toast, “I used to be S.W.A.T., Princess, so it takes a lot to get the jump on me.”

“So, you’re say-”

“That is not an invitation for you to experiment on how to get the upper hand, love,” he stops me before I go down that useless train of thought.

“You got me, I’ll be on my best behavior, Sir,” I laugh, pulling myself up to sit on the counter near him.

“Would you like a piece of bread with some tomato sauce on it, Princess?”

“Yes, please,” I pipe up, excited to taste the aromatic sauce. I watch as he grabs a piece of bread, dipping it into the sauce before blowing on it a bit. He turns off the stove and comes to stand in front of me, placing the bite just out of reach. I look at him, confusion painted on my face.

“Tell me what your homework is and you can have your treat, Princess.”

I debate pouting but I know that won’t get me that saucy bread. “I have to talk to you about Rachel. She’s been weird around me, and it makes me uneasy,” I mumble, suddenly anxious.

“What exactly is she saying or doing?” he asks, allowing me to take a bite of the bread, still holding onto it himself.

“She hasn’t said anything to me, she just gives me this bitchy glare whenever we cross paths,” I speak around the bite of bread I was granted, “Honestly, baby, she freaks me out and I don’t like the idea of having to avoid your ex.”

“You shouldn’t have to actively avoid her,” he holds the last bite of bread out for me and places it in my awaiting mouth, “I’ll talk to her. I don’t want to scare her too much. But I do want her to know you mean a lot to me and if I’m lucky, you’ll be in my life for a long time to come. She needs to suck it up and get used to it.”

“Fuck, that is so sexy to hear you say,” I disclose, reaching up to cup the back of his head, pulling him into a searing kiss.

I clench my thighs together as I feel his tongue invade my mouth. Strong hands part my legs so that he can slide in between them. Our clothed sexes line up perfectly and I wrap my legs around his hips. A growl rumbles from his chest to my groin. We part to catch our breath, our foreheads resting together.

“Fuck, will you let me eat your pussy, baby?” he practically moans the question and it lights a fire up under my ass.

“Please, yes,” I gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck before he picks me up off the counter and walks us into his bedroom. He lays me down slowly. Kissing from my lips to my neck, nipping along the way. I gasp inwardly when I feel his hand ghost over my covered heat, my back arching at the touch.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, baby. You just relax and take what you need from me,” he whispers, moving down the bed as he hooks his fingers in my pants. He pulls them down, leaving me in my drenched panties. He kisses the fabric of my underwear before pulling those down as well.

He dives into my sodden snatch, using the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe from my entrance to my swollen nub before kissing it. My hands go from gripping the sheets to weaving through his curls when I feel him start to suck on my button.

“Fuuuuuck, Daddy, just like that,” I mewl, his growl vibrating through my clit. I feel his hands grip my thick thighs, pulling me closer to him as he eats greedily. I look down at him, his eyes are closed and he looks like he is in Heaven feasting on me. As if he could sense my stare, his eyes open and we share a heated mutual gaze.

While still attending to my nub, he reaches up to my mouth and I suck two of his fingers, getting them nice and wet. When he’s satisfied, he leans back and licks his lips, entering my core with his spit-slicked digits and I cry out at the sensation.

“You’re so fucking tight, hot, and wet baby. Fucking perfect, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock,” he hummed, working his fingers in and out of me slowly until I arch my back to ride his fingers.

I pull him up to kiss me, tasting myself on his lips. His fingers find my inner bundle of nerves, massaging it as his thumb circles my clit. My breathing picks up as I feel the coil in my depths tightening until it snaps and I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation.

“No, no, no. Look at me when I make you cum,” our eyes lock and I arch off the bed as my orgasm hits me full force. But this one feels different, so much more powerful than ever before. “Fuuuuuuuck, yes! Squirt all over me,” I faintly hear Walter groan those words before I realize my thighs are wet and sloshing noises are bouncing off the walls. Walter looks back up to my face and his pupils are blown wide. “You look so beautiful like this. All fucked out, tears flowing freely.” Did he say tears?

I reach up to my cheeks and feel wetness staining them, my eyes are blurry with unshed moisture. Then the emotion behind it all attacks and I begin to cry fully. I know they are happy tears but I can’t verbalize that to Walter yet and he starts to panic.

“S’ok…so good…emotional,” I mutter, trying to let him know I’m alright. He seems to understand and nods, going to the attached bathroom and coming back with two towels. I feel wet warmth between my thighs as he cleans me, then dries me off with the other towel. He lays down next to me and covers me with the comforter and I close my eyes in contentment.

He peppers my face with slow kisses, from my eyelids to my nose to my cheeks to my lips. When I open my eyes again, Walter is looking at me with a look that definitely spells out his feelings for me. Instead of putting words to it, we just lay and bask in its radiance. I struggle to keep my eyes open and finally keep them closed.

I feel a kiss placed on my forehead and stir while I hear Walter’s soothing voice in my ears. “You did so good, Angel. Rest as long as you need to, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I awake some time later, and true to his word, Walter is still laying next to me. His soft snores are like music to my ears. I lean up and nuzzle our noses together until he stirs and opens his eyes and smiles down at me.

“Hey, baby,” he gives me a quick peck, “How do you feel?”

“Well…so far, I feel refreshed. But I haven’t tried to walk yet,” I laugh, “That will be the true test. And I need to pee anyway.” At that, I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. I swing my legs out of the bed and stand up slowly. I take my first step and it’s wobbly as hell.

Walter gets up and helps me to the bathroom, because of course he does. He stays in the bathroom with me to make sure I don’t tip off the toilet or slip into the bathtub. I mean, at this point, I squirted all over his hand so I’m sure he can handle me peeing while he’s in the room. He even jokes that he can’t believe I have any liquids left in me. I playfully swat at him and he only grins at me.

We end up having dinner shortly after, the pasta was spectacular and the garlic toast was perfect. The rest of the night is spent introducing Walter to Supernatural. He likes how funny it is, and I feel obligated to tell him that this is one of the saddest shows to ever grace television screens. Once I say that, he vows to still watch the show because it means so much to me.

We lay down in his bed for the night, talking about what we want to do this weekend. I mention that it would be nice to do absolutely nothing and just be lazy bums all weekend and he approves. Our weekend is spent finishing the first season of Supernatural and me answering all of Walter’s questions about the show. He is so cute getting all invested in one of my faves. And if we take breaks for him to test how many times he can make me cum in a weekend, then that’s our business.

He won’t allow me to return the favor, however. He says that this is all a part of him taking care of me this weekend. I try not to feel undeserving of so much positive attention, but I’m still a work in progress. And that is just fine for now because he is good at making me forget why I was anxious in the first place. My sweet Walter better count his days, because I am going to rock his world when I finally get the chance.

Chapter 5

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

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quem-pel · 1 year

Text

I was feeling really unsettled after the finale of The Bad Batch and I wasn’t entirely sure why until I talked to my best friend about it.

Spoilers and unsolicited opinions below.

This is just me trying to sort things out in my head and thought I would share.

Obviously Techs death was pretty devastating, and I thought that it was the loss of his character that had me so in my feelings. They had fleshed him out to be very unique; he was the genius trope while still being confident and warm in his own way. You don’t ever see that portrayed in any sort of media and it was super endearing and refreshing. Then they canonized (I’m calling it canon at this point) him being neurodivergent/Autistic and that felt really good.

From what I can remember, he had never been made fun of by his brothers for info dumping, interrupting or his general demeanor. (The Regs made fun of all of them so I’m not counting that) And again, he wasn’t portrayed as being completely callus and uncaring. When he came across that way, Omega called him out like any little sibling might and he had explained his situation beautifully.

“I may process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean that I feel any less than you.” Same my tall neurodivergent buddy, same. And I think that is an incredibly powerful thing for a show to say, especially a SciFi universe/series that attracts this sort of following.

So yea, Techs death felt a little like a gut punch. I get sad over character deaths but this one got to me, and Tech wasn’t even my most favorite character.

I believe it was because of the timing and the tone.

It happened with 15 minutes left to the last episode, at that point we know things can’t get better. There would be no ‘fix it’ curve ball where he comes back to save the day, Crosshair wasn’t getting saved and then Omega was taken. There was so much despair and strife that the ‘I’m your sister’ reveal had very little emotional effect on me. At that point, I just didn’t care. I had been curious before, but it’s hard to feel curious about anything when everything felt so demoralizing and hopeless.

And that’s where my disconnect and unsettled feeling is coming from.

Starwars is about Hope, it always has been. It’s a huge reason why I latched onto the universe as my ‘comfort’ fandom. I’m emotionally sick of shows that everything is horrible all the time, if I want that I just open up Facebook or watch the news.

That isn’t to say that bad things don’t happen in Starwars, they absolutely do. But I don’t remember the last time any of the shows or films left me feeling utterly hopeless. Even in season one we have Omega telling Crosshair “You’re still their brother, you’re my brother too.”

This season we get; Tech falling to his death. Wrecker, Echo and Hunter sitting in a Dark Marauder ready to go feral after already trying everything and having nothing left. Crosshair out for the count after being tortured for who knows how long and Omega being kidnapped by the Empire.

Obviously the writing is really good, especially if so many people are having an emotional reaction to it. And I understand that its set right after order 66, so the empire is in full swing of being vicious evil bastards. But I think I am just really missing that punch of hope at the end, that light at the end of the tunnel that can pull us through until next season.

I am unsettled because it just feels really hopeless and that isn’t the theme of Starwars at all.

I want next season to turn that around, I want Tech to make a Starwars ‘not dead yet’ return, Crosshair and Omega to escape and the found family Trope to be intact. But that all seems like a very big ask at this point.

Makes me scared for the Mandalorian. At least we got to see Zeb Live action this week.

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dolorum-magne · 1 year

Text

my views on Brian and Alex because I was having a conversation about it with @fishymom-art but tumblr didn’t want to send my messages so I’m making a post instead.

it’ll be under the cut if you wanna read it

Alex:

Firstly I’m just going to say that Alex is a very tragic character in my eyes and I will admit, for the first several times I watched marble hornets I had a very negative view on Alex but at some point it just clicked for me that he isn’t really a ‘bad person’ despite the things he’s done if you know what I mean. Like he’s not evil.

I’ll explain that here, because I have a lot to say about Alex, he makes me very sad.

I’m going to try to keep my thoughts about him in chronological order.

In tapes from back in college, like the auditions and earlier tapes where they’re all just hanging out together, before Alex started getting aggressive with the film crew, he was a genuinely kind and caring person, there’s a reason Jay and Brian we’re both friends with him.

He was kind, and funny, and seemed generally laid back, back then he was a nice guy to be around.

And then things started going wrong.

The operator was appearing on set, showing up at his house, following him around everywhere he went. By then he was already paranoid and freaking out about it, and he lashed out at his friends which in my opinion, given the circumstances is very understandable. It was wrong of him, but understandable.

Alex tried to investigate, get to the bottom of what was going on, but when he tried that all it did was get people close to him presumably killed. Brian went missing (which he may have had something to do with but when he talks about them all being gone, he doesn’t seem to remember that.), during the investigation the Operator appeared and obviously something happened to Seth and he was presumably killed (once again, he doesn’t remember what), and with Tim and Jay there are things that may have happened that neither of them remember and that we don’t see, but for whatever reason he genuinely seems to believe they can’t help him. When he claims that all of them are gone, that him and Seth were the only two left, he doesn’t seem to be lying, he genuinely believes it, for whatever reason (there’s still missing information about what happened around that time that we will probably never know. There were missing tapes, tapes too corrupted to make out, as well as tapes that were burned or destroyed so who knows.) he believed that he was alone, and that investigating was only hurting the people around him, people he did care about.

So he moved away. Alex halts production on marble hornets and moves across the state to a different university and tries to forget about it. This does seem to work for a while going off the tape Alex sent Jay at his hotel.

At that point Alex hadn’t been filming himself anymore (his camera was buried in the back of his closet, either forgotten about or he was trying to forget about it) and seemed to be doing well, hanging out at Amy’s house while he presumably did some work. When Amy comes into the room, messing around with the camera we see that Alex from back in college again. He seems genuinely happy, he’s that kind and caring person he was before.

Alex had finally thought he’d escaped it, and he had seemingly finally gotten his feet back under him when Amy found the camera, and everything went down hill again.

For quite a while Alex still cared a lot, especially about Amy. When the operator appeared in her house, his first priority was not to get himself away from it, it was getting her to safety. Later he looks for Amy for a very long time, even reaches out to Jay for his help with it as well. (Btw seeing how he acts towards Jay in that time is very upsetting, because it’s obvious Jay just wants to help and is just confused about why Alex is acting so aggressively towards him, why he’s not telling him everything and why he has such a short fuse, but he stays with him anyways both because he cares so much about his friend and wants to help him, and also because he doesn’t want to be alone again)

As things got worse and worse and Alex deteriorated more and more, getting more aggressive and paranoid, the way he viewed it started getting skewed. In Alex’s personal experience, the longer this goes on the more people die.

The operator started showing up? Brian goes missing.

He tries to investigate? Seth goes missing and presumably dies.

He tries to move away to escape it? Amy goes missing and we later find out she’s been dead for most of the series and had likely already died when he was looking for her.

(Btw it’s highly theorised that Alex may have killed her but doesn’t seem to remember, but its never confirmed. Joseph actually did apparently say once that he likes to think that Alex didn’t kill her considering how much he genuinely loved Amy)

The more any of them reach out, the more people get sucked in, the more people die.

When Alex is at his worst the operator has not only been following him for years but also one by one picking off the people he cares about. Being in constant fear for that long and watched the people around you disappear would have driven him mad. Alex’s experience broke him.

Obviously he was wrong, I’m not saying he wasn’t, but eventually it got to a point where in Alex’s mind he’d already ruled out every other option of trying to escape and trying to prevent others from getting hurt and in the end it got the people close to him killed.

In his head, the only way for it to end, and for it to stop others from being sucked in, the only way was to cut it off at the source, to ‘stop the spread’.

I don’t think he wanted to, I don’t think he took pleasure in hurting his friends, he just genuinely believed that them all dying (including himself, Alex never hoped to get out of it after that point.) was the only way to prevent others from getting hurt.

Was what he did wrong? Yes! Completely!

Was he in the right mind? Absolutely not.

He did terrible things. He killed innocent people.

But I think one of the things that’s important to remember is that Alex isn’t the villain of the story, the operator is. Alex is a victim just like the rest of them, and he should be treated as such. I don’t think was.. I dunno. Lucid enough to make the right decisions?

Like for example, near the end when Jay deteriorates and tries to attack Tim with the knife. Jay was very mentally disturbed at that point. He shouldn’t have done that, but he was also not in the right mind and I don’t think he even realised what he was doing if you know what I mean?

It’s startlingly similar to what happened with Alex, but Alex just kept getting worse.

Idk if that makes sense. I don’t think it’s very easy to call Alex a good or bad person. He used to be good, but I don’t think it was his fault that things got bad, it’s the operator.

The operator bent him to his breaking point, manipulated and ruined his life completely.

Alex probably could have been helped early on but the point is that he didn’t. He refused it, and eventually it got to a point where I don’t think they could help him. I don’t think it was really Alex anymore at that point.

I think he was a good person, deep down, but the things that happened to him completely shattered his psyche, and I don’t think he should be considered evil for it.

I’m not saying the things he did should be excused, but I am saying that he was manipulated into believing it was the only way to save others.

He definitely shouldn’t have pinned the blame on Tim like he did, and he shouldn’t have done the things he did but I’m not surprised things turned out the way they did.

He’s a hard character to morally pinpoint, and it’s one of the things I like about his character, it’s his humanity.

I at least like to think that deep down he was still a good person, who was manipulated into believing in and committing atrocities ‘for the greater good’. If Tim hadn’t killed Alex, Alex would have surely killed himself in the end, he was never going to survive that and I don’t think he deserved it.

Again I think the most important thing to remember is that Alex is not the villain of the story, the Operator is, and alex is another victim.

I don’t know if that’s purely because I want to see the good in people or what because it seems to be a relatively popular view in the fandom. I think if he had accepted help from others things would have ended much differently.

He doesn’t make me angry, he absolutely breaks my heart.

Brian:

I’ll admit, Brian is a very difficult character to navigate. Mostly because of the fact that in the series, he’s mysterious and we are entirely in the dark on many of the things he’s done and been through. None the less, here’s my take.

(Just a heads up, I’ll mention 3.5 but I’ll go through the events of 3.5 separately.)

As far as I can tell, Aside from Tim (who presumably was the ‘patient 0’ if you will. I have my doubts about wether or not he did unintentionally lead it to them but that’s another topic) Brian was the one involved the longest (I’m going off of the TTA video ‘Exit’ here. In the entry preceding it, footage from an old tape has alex checking out shooting locations for marble hornets back in college, Alex asks Jay to go back to the car to retrieve more tapes as the one in the camera is running out- it promptly runs out immediately afterwards. Exit is filmed from the trees, recording Jay going back to car to retrieve them. That means that someone (presumably Brian) was for whatever reason already filming, and presumably already at least somewhat aware of the situation (wether that was Brian himself or if hoodie is an alter ego like Masky is. We’re never 100% sure wether or not that’s the case.) as well as several things from back in college that neither Tim nor Jay seem to remember, like the stuff that happened in the abandoned hospital with Brian being dragged off and such. That happened before Alex moved away and just before Brian went missing.)

We know that from the beginning, while he definitely went about it in a VERY wrong way (I’m not disputing that, some of the things brian did, especially reguarding Tims meds were absolutely terrible, however I don’t necessarily think they’re unforgivable considering the circumstances but definitely terrible.) that he was truly trying to help. He provided clues and he on multiple occasions did save them from being killed. We also know that he didn’t have any intention to hurt them (both because of 3.5, and because of the series. In the TTA video “Forecast” it shows footage taken at the time where Jay was still with Alex, during that 7 month block of missing time Jays got, of Jay sleeping in his car. Yeah it’s creepy as hell but if he really wanted to hurt him, he had every opportunity while Jay was asleep but he didn’t. Also the whole thing with him setting Jay loose after Tim left him tied up. Some have argued he sent Jay to his death, but the last time Hoodie was at Benedict Hall, Alex was disarmed and restrained. When he set Jay loose he wouldn’t have known Alex had gotten loose, and in 3.5 we get confirmation that he didn’t intend for Jay to end up dead.)

Back in college we know from their interactions, and how Tim talks about Brian that they were very close friends. We do get confirmation in the comic that through everything, Brian still does care deeply for Tim.

As for him trying to get Masky back (both him telling him to “return to us” in several TTA videos, and near the end when he tried to give him the mask, and essentially baited him with the pills? Btw I SOMEHOW FORGOT ABOUT THAT AND THAT WAS FUCKED UP but I on some level kind of understand why? I’m in no way justifying it, it was incredibly fucked up but I think I do know why he did it that way. Obviously yes, he took the pills from Tim because he himself was using them, and presumably for whatever reason couldn’t get them himself, but when he shakes the pills bottle to get tims attention, and then tosses him the mask, without him speaking (btw I do have a theory as to why he doesn’t speak, if you wanna hear it) it’s probably hard to convey that he wanted Tims help. He obviously wanted him on his side, him and Masky worked together on multiple occasions to do good things (they saved Jessica together as an example) and obviously with Tim not remembering that without the mask, and on his medication, Tim both didn’t trust him, but he was also afraid of him. I don’t think he really knew how to deal with that, so he dealt with it in a terrible way.

Again to be very clear,it’s AWFUL. I am in no way trying to excuse his behaviour it was horrible and I don’t think he should just be forgiven for it because in his mind he had some reason for it, but if I try to think of a reason as to why he would possibly do that considering how much he cares about Tim, that’s the only possible reason I could think of.

Onto the info we learned in 3.5 that makes me feel like Brian isn’t a bad person, and while he executed it terribly and should 100% be held accountable for his actions, I feel like he isn’t unforgivable and that he was trying to do the right thing.

In 3.5 it’s established that not only is the ark a real place(kinda), it’s also alive. It’s presumably connected to the operator, it’s essentially what it gets it’s food from. That’s where it’s victims end up. He mentions having been there and managing to escape multiple times, and each and every time he literally lost a piece of himself, food for the ark. By the end, the last time he ends up there, just after the fall, he says that there is nothing left to leave now. That he’s a shell of a person now.

“Each time I escape from here. A part of me is left behind. But now I have nothing left to leave. I’m a shell.”

I think the reason Brian did what he did is because there’s very little left of Brian at that point. Hoodie is there, but Brian isn’t anymore, so there’s nothing left to stop him from doing whatever he can to reach his goal (which is getting rid of Alex. Even in the comics, Brian is consumed with anger and blame and resentment for Alex, believing he was the one who caused everything for everyone and that it’s all his fault.)

He actually mentions the reason for his lack of explanation for Tim and Jay, the reason for the codes and stuff instead of directly telling them. It’s because it’s literally all he can do. Here’s a quote:

“All that I’ve done. I’ve tried to stop this from happening to anyone else. Everything is so distorted. My thoughts. They make no sense. I try to warn others. But nothing comes out. They don’t understand. I FAIL every single time. Numbers. Codes. Riddles. Why is that? It is all I can see.”

He has no idea why he does the things he does, he’s just trying to help in the only way he knows how, and while he did end up helping, in the end it hurts the people he cares about, and he acknowledges that! He feels guilty for it even, especially after he finds Jay at the ark and realises that after everything he did, he died anyways.

Here’s another quote:

“I made it worse. I caused people to be sent here. They didn’t escape like I did. This is where I should stay now. Away from anywhere I could ever hurt again.”

He still doesn’t want to give up, he still wants to help end this all but he both doesn’t know how and doesn’t seem to think he can. He actually finds Tims mask in the ark and seems horrified to realise Tim has been there (the part of him he left behind was Masky presumably) and presumes him to be dead like the others.

When Skully leads him to Alex who is also in the ark, Brian is once again rage full and while he wants Alex to stay here and die so he can’t hurt anyone anymore, he also plans to stay in the ark for the same reason. Skully has to beg him to let him go.

This leads me to my final point on 3.5.

Brian hesitantly asks Skully if Tim was in there with him, presuming him to be dead. When Skully tells him no and confirms that Tim is still alive, Brian cries.

He’s so relieved that Tim survived, that Brian hadn’t accidentally doomed him, that he starts crying. It’s seemingly the only reason that Brian agrees to go with Skully, because he knows that at the very least Tim survived. Once that’s confirmed he let’s Alex go, and is resigned to let Skully take them away from the ark.

To conclude, while the things Brian did were absolutely terrible and if he really was the one in control of those actions (if it wasn’t that hoodies an alter ego like Masky is, we can’t be sure) he should 100% be held accountable, but he truly did mean well. Not only that but he acknowledges it and upon knowing that he didn’t doom Tim like he originally thought, and being given the chance to help fix his mistakes and end things once and for all, he takes it.

I think Brian wants to be redeemed and I think he can be. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but he still did, and he knows that and is taking accountability for it.

Obviously that’s just my take on it and I’d like to believe that every person/character has a chance for redemption, and can be good, and we know that at the very least Brian had good intentions and truly does care for Tim.

Wether or not that warrants Tims forgiveness is yet to be determined, but I like to think he can earn it.

Over all I think that Brian is a good person, who just did terrible things. The important thing to me is that he acknowledges that what he did was wrong, and doesn’t use his good intentions to excuse the behaviour in the end.

(Additionally, I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure by definition, Masky and Hoodie are anti-hero’s.

Anti-hero

a central character in a story, film, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes.

Anti-heroes are still good people, but their approach to achieving what they want might be different than what is deemed "acceptable".

Idk that’s just my take but in the end, the operator is the villain of the story and the rest of them are all victims.

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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May I request a drink? I have never done this before so I’m scared. 🥺 A margarita on the rocks with Javi. I recently have been addicted to listening to TS’s Folklore album, especially Exile.

Congratulations on 2k. You are an absolute amazing writer. Keep on doing all the amazing things.

hi nonnie!

welcome to the bar! please don't be scared. this is a safe space for all.

thank you so much for stopping by and making a request! i was hoping someone would order javi so i could play around with him. i hope you enjoy! cheers! 🥂

as a reminder: margarita on the rocks means it's spicy (minors dni)!

blurb below the cut

exile

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending

You both knew exactly how this would end. It would fall apart the way it had every other time. It was always great in the beginning, constructing a gilded house of cards together, until one of you, usually him, sent it tumbling down to scattered pieces with either too much accidental force or intentional self-destruction.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

“You broke mine first, Javi.”

He knew you were right. It was always his fault. He wanted you, God did he want you, and for a while, he could ignore that little voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough for you. He could remember to call to check in and ask how your day was. He could show up at your door on a Wednesday afternoon with a bouquet of flowers he saw in your favorite color that reminded him of you. He could slow dance with you in your kitchen under the spotlight of the moon to only the music playing in your hearts. For a little while, he could pretend.

But then reality would creep in. Javi would get so wrapped up in his job that you wouldn’t hear from him for days. He was never particularly good at expressing anything but anger, so he could never explain how he really felt. He either used the cowardly excuse that his life was too dangerous for you to be involved in, or he’d be a vindictive asshole on purpose to make you resent him, swearing to himself it was for the best. He’d let you go, and he wouldn’t chase after you.

Instead he’d drown his heart at the bar and lose himself in whatever woman he could find. But it didn’t matter how many women he ran through, because everytime he was inside someone, the only face he saw was yours. He wouldn’t call, but he kept tabs on you, and the second he even thought you were attempting to move on from him, he’d start the vicious cycle all over again. Javi would show up at your door with those remorseful eyes you couldn’t ever find the strength to slam your door shut on, and he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, spew an apology and declaration of love that could put the world’s greatest love songs and sonnets to shame, and seal his apology with a passionate kiss and another empty promise of change.

“You can’t actually stand here and tell me that you love him.”

“How can I, Javi? How am I ever supposed to even try to fall in love with someone else if you won’t let me? This isn’t fair to me. Everytime we break up, you go and fuck every woman within a five mile radius and I’m supposed to just be okay with that, but when I go on a date, you’re breaking my door down-”

“It’s different. I’m not taking them on dates because they don’t mean anything. They’re nameless, faceless, nothing.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt any less, Javier.”

He hates it when you use his full name, because then he knows he fucked up. He hates hearing the break in your voice. He hates when you look away from him to hide your teary eyes because you don’t want him to see you cry. Not again. He hates making you cry.

“Mi amor. Por favor, no llores. Tu cara es demasiado hermosa para arruinarse con lágrimas.”

(My love. Please, don’t cry. Your face is too beautiful to be ruined with tears.)

Javi loves you. More than he’s ever loved anyone. By some miracle or the grace of God, you love him back, no matter how many times he returns your heart shattered in his hands. So he shows you how much he loves you and needs you, and how fucking sorry he is the only way he really knows how to express.

He pulls you into his arms and captures your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every ounce of love he feels into your mouth, gripping onto your face gently to keep you in place so that you can’t walk away from him. He gets on his knees and uses his tongue to beg for forgiveness and redemption at the altar between your thighs. Javi fucks you slowly and deeply into that magical spot of time between midnight and twilight where everything is still and anything seems possible. He holds your hand above your head as you surrender your body to him. He catches a glimpse of heaven inside you and plants a seed, wondering if this one will take and give you the opportunity to try to grow something else together.

Javi drips sweet nothings and praise into your ear like honey, nuzzling affection into your neck and promises of ‘it’ll be different this time’ are plastered to your lips.

“Tienes mi corazón. Siempre lo has hecho. Quítame la vida también. Tómalo todo.”

(You have my heart. You always have. Take my life too. Take it all.)

Maybe it will be different this time. Maybe there will be a different ending.

Maybe it’ll be a happy one.

#javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña blurb #javier peña request #javier peña smut #court's 2k follower celebration #court's 2k friends celebration

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silverfoxstole · 10 months

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I came across some old interviews and things I'd typed up yonks ago the other day, so I thought you lot might be interested in reading them. 😁

THE JENNIFER SELWAY INTERVIEW

DAILY EXPRESS 11TH OCTOBER 2001

“IT’S NICE TO HAVE BROTHERS. WE STAND IN FOR EACH OTHER ON ACTING JOBS AND IN THE PAST WE HAVE EVEN SWAPPED GIRLFRIENDS”

Paul McGann was burgled a couple of weeks ago.

“Oh, no,” I coo, like you do. “It was just stuff,” he says casually, sounding like an old hippy, which is not unfeasible. After all, he’s 41 now, which surprises me when I think about it. 41! I had assumed he was younger, something to do with those boyish, studenty looks – something to do with being immortalised in Withnail and I.

The really bad thing about the raid on his home in Bristol was that the thieves made off with his wife Annie’s computer, and she (a writer) lost several weeks worth of work.

“There are some scumbags in the world,” says Paul mildly. “They came through the front door at night. The kids and I were in the house asleep. Though apparently – I asked the policeman about this – the real rush hour for burglaries is two o’clock in the afternoon. It makes sense when you think about it. You wouldn’t look twice at someone hanging about the house at that time. There are always people round our house.”

“Like who?”

“Mates, musicians…you know.”

No, I don’t know really. It sounds lovely. Mates and musicians chilling out at your house all afternoon, the twang of an acoustic guitar, probably joss sticks and instant coffee.

The funny thing about Paul McGann is that it’s difficult to tell whether he is really very intense and energetic or as laid back and ordinary blokey as he makes out. Take his face, which can look somewhat grey and severe one moment and then all young and smiley the next. He can switch from headmaster to naughtiest boy in the class by just lifting the corners of his mouth.

He is the second oldest of the McGann brothers, the Liverpudlian acting family. No one (I’ve enquired round the office about this) can ever remember how many there are though most people seem to throw in a few names like Mike [eh?], Joe and Steve.

Paul – he ought to be reliable on this one – says there are five McGann siblings including one sister. Mike [She means Joe] is the eldest by just 16 months. Amazingly, there don’t seem to have been any rifts or feuds over the years. Paul thinks that being part of a clan can be a positive advantage to an actor. “It’s true that if people don’t see you on screen for a while they forget about you. But if you’re a McGann you get four times the opportunity of being seen. We are pretty interchangeable.”

He pauses for a moment and studies my face for a reaction. “You think I’m joking, don’t you? But it’s true. We’ve stood in for each other on acting jobs. The last time was a couple of years ago and no one was any the wiser.” He says he can’t remember what TV show it was. But I have the suspicion that this may be a diplomatic memory lapse.

Boys will be boys. And being so close in age the McGanns have also shared, not only jobs, but girlfriends. “I don’t remember us exactly passing girls around. It was more a case of the girls taking themselves around under their own steam,” explains Paul.

Quite so. “Women love the McGanns,” said Richard E Grant, Paul’s co-star in Withnail and I, adding, “while my admirers are mostly old men in trenchcoats.”

Withnail and I, directed by Bruce Robinson in 1987, is one of those films that brings a smile to people’s faces at the mere mention of the title. A low-budget surprise hit, McGann and Grant played a couple of out-of-work actors living in majestic squalor who spend the entire film veering from one bender to the next.

“It’s one of those films which just cheers people up. It’s always a laugh if someone comes up to me and talks about it. I’m always glad to meet Withnail fans. The funny thing about Richard is that you can’t think of a better drunk act than him but in fact he is allergic to alcohol and never drinks. He can’t metabolise it. But you know almost everyone has had their Withnail era, lived in a terrible flat, endured the squalor, we’ve all met that drug dealer, we all stayed up too late. It’s great to have been in something that has got into folklore in the way that Withnail has.”

Not all of McGann’s projects have been so happy. In fact he has been dogged by the most awful bad luck. In the mid-eighties he was very much the bright young hope of British TV, starring on BBC1 as First World War soldier Percy Toplis in Alan Bleasdale’s controversial Monocled Mutineer. A move to Hollywood seemed on the cards and off he went in 1987 to appear in Steven Spielberg’s Empire of the Sun, though most of his screen time disappeared on the cutting room floor. A similar fate awaited his role in Alien 3.

And there was more bad luck to come, including a car crash in Spain in 1991. Three years later he was in the Ukraine filming Sharpe for ITV. “We had a day off and were out on the beach playing football when I ruptured my knee. It was horrible, it swelled up like a balloon and I just wanted my mum. I tried to soldier on but in the end I had to be flown back to London.”

Sean Bean took over the coveted role of the dashing Sharpe and McGann found himself embroiled in a protracted court case concerning his contractual obligations. “Let’s just say that none of us was aware how badly injured I was. It was tough because I needed the dough at the time – and there would have been a lot of it – and that would have got us out of a domestic hole. It sent me into a bit of a spin, to be honest.” McGann’s next doomed project was as Doctor Who in the Hollywood-produced version which became the centre of another lawsuit between the BBC and a consortium of backers. The film, made in 1996, was a flop.

“I can’t regret it. It was a laugh. If it had gone ahead I would have been committed to five or six years in the US and I’d have had to move the family there. I didn’t want to be Dr Who at first – it’s a bit like taking over the responsibility of becoming the Pope – and I thought it was a silly idea. After all, I’m a po-faced dramatic actor.”

Last year McGann starred in Fish, BBC’s off-beat legal drama which was pulled because of dismal audiences. Recently he filmed The Biographer, playing Andrew Morton at the time when he was writing his celebrated book about Princess Diana. The film has yet to be released.

“I’m glad I did it. The scripts might have been salacious and awful but they weren’t. You don’t see Diana at all – just a fleeting glance from a distance with her back to us.”

Now, finger crossed, he’s back in another new BBC drama, Sweet Revenge, playing Patrick Vine, an “expert” in revenge whose clients want more than the old tried-and-tested methods involving “cutting up clothes and dead fish”.

McGann himself has toyed with the idea of revenge in the past. In 1996 [Actually 1994] he was spotted kissing Catherine Zeta Jones and became the subject of intense media interest. That Catherine was an old friend and the kiss no more than a mwah-mwah peck did not prevent the McGanns’ lives being made a misery. “It caused my wife Annie and I – and Catherine – huge distress. It’s very upsetting to be at the centre of that kind of attention. And did I want revenge? Too right I did. I wanted to get out there and throttle someone. Rightly or wrongly, I chose to do nothing. I didn’t want to dignify it by making any kind of statement. In the end the whole thing petered out because it was a non-story.”

Together for 20 years, Paul and Annie have two sons – Joe, 12, and Jake, 10. Annie studied acting at the Bristol Old Vic and their move from London happened over a long period of time. “We were in our own Withnail phase and felt we had to rejuvenate and get out of London, so we used to go to Bristol for weekends. We created a kind of bolt hole and eventually just forgot to leave. Then, when Annie was first pregnant we had to be grown up and buy a house. It was at that time in the late eighties when houses were a ridiculous price. That’s the real reason we stayed on in Bristol – we just couldn’t afford to live in London.”

He lives in Bristol almost by accident and he is an actor almost by accident.

“I never wanted to be an actor. I never went to Stratford-upon-Avon, or kept scrapbooks or had pictures of – I don’t know – Alan Howard on my bedroom walls. I would have liked to have been a musician. It was almost obligatory growing up in Liverpool – you kick a ball around and play in a band. But what I really wanted was to be a track and field athlete. I would have been perfectly satisfied with that – an athletic career or even teaching sport. But I didn’t make the Olympics which I wanted to do. It just didn’t happen. It was something to do with being 16 and highly sexed like all 16-year-olds and discovering the inside of the bar. So in the end I just slipped into the acting.”

McGann may have the ability to go with the flow but it’s clear he is not always so easy going. “I’m mellowing a bit. But there are times when I’ve wound myself up in knots, and in egotistical terms I think I was a bit of a bastard. I have thought about revenge in childish moments and temperamentally if I was going to get back at anyone I’d do it long after the event. That’s not nice, is it? I don’t forget but I’m reaching the stage where I can forgive. I’ve been a very jealous person as well. I’ve been jealous of my wife, jealous of my brothers and I’ve been jealous of people I’ve never met. Anyone who says they haven’t felt the same is a liar.

“I’ve reached the slow realisation that no one is really looking at me. You know how when you’re a kid you think you’re the centre of everyone’s attention? Discovering you’re not is refreshing, especially for an actor.”

McGann’s mellowing process is the result of hard experience. And he seems remarkably sanguine about his woeful luck. And old (well, middle-aged) hippy that he is, he quotes Sanskrit at me.

“You find what you should be doing through your mistakes. I really believe that. And so much depends on luck. There’s a Sanskrit saying: ‘Where you stumble, there your treasure is’. Do you like that? It’s good, isn’t it?”

#paul mcgann #interviews #how did this woman manage to write this without checking some simple facts?#poor mark whose name is apparently difficult to get right #headdesks #mcgann monday

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year

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[Portrait of my mother, taken by my son :: 2000]

* * * * *

Always a day late [and a dollar short] :: remembering the anniversary of my mother's death.

Here is Ruth again. The anniversary of her death is here. The beginning of this blog was the end of her life so this is also an anniversary for this blog.

What to say about my mother 20+ years after her death? I'm getting closer to the age she was when she died which is disconcerting. A part of my experience of time is frozen with her death. Still. As I remember her I appreciate her more and know her less.

I had a lot of long [all night long] conversations with my mother in the several years before she died.If you've ever had a searching conversation with a schizophrenic it's a fascinating experience. We jumped from reality to reality in a way that is very hard to describe. As a matter of fact I can't recall any of the content of these intense conversations. They had the quality of meditation or prayer. Of listening. Both of us intensely listened.

I think those conversations were to prepare me for the conversations that we have now, now that she has died. They may die but they don't really go away. In those conversations we were memorizing each other. We were recording the whorls of the fingerprints of one another so that we wouldn't ever be lost to each other.I guess that's just my fantasy or how I explain things to myself.

I'm watching our home movies that show our trip on "The Flying Cloud." There's a lot of film of people's backs. We see them going but not coming. I just want a good long look at their/ our faces. One of the things I do is look at people's posture so I'm analyzing my family's posture on the film. We are people who are very bad liars and even worse at hiding how we feel. My mother loved that trip. I guess my father was already planning to leave us, so this would have been a "fuck you" trip.

It's always bugged me that our mother loved it so much, as if it represented a new beginning. She had always wanted our father to do something nice for her. So she got a "goodbye cruise."

My mother had a hell of a temper. She could swear using words I still don't know the meaning of. She was swearing in tongues - divine words of frustration and condemnation. After our father left I heard her say many times that now her life was over. But it wasn't. Not by a long shot. Then in the year before she died, she said that it had occurred to her that she might live to be 100 so she should maybe make some plans.*

Now I'm at the place in the home movies where the super-8 movie camera mostly shakes and whites out. It provides just a tiny peek and the tiny tykes my brothers and I were - appearing and disappearing with a quick dash of my mother then my father. I think it was 1949 or 1950. Can't we just have a sustained look at someone? Can't we just look and look at them? It is just out of the corner of an eye before it's gone.

That was my mother. We didn't really get to see her. Just glimpses of her and then her back as she was cooking or walking away or working on one of her projects. Projects made out of clay or ripping the sofa apart to put on new upholstery, where the incomplete project lay on the living room floor for weeks.

There was more a flavor to her - or a spell.

I look at photos of young teenage me and think - she had no idea that she had the power to cast a spell.

My mother didn't know her powers, her magical self. That's the real shame of her and her life trajectory. She possessed so much magic and never really knew. Because there wasn't anyone who could or would tell her.*

“(and I think silently: love is a bow-string pulled back to the point of breaking)”

— Marina Tsvetaeva, trans. by Elaine Feinstein, from Bride of Ice: “Poem of the End”

And death shall have no dominion

Dylan Thomas - 1914-1953 And death shall have no dominion. Dead men naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion. And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break; Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through; Split all ends up they shan't crack; And death shall have no dominion. And death shall have no dominion. No more may gulls cry at their ears Or waves break loud on the seashores; Where blew a flower may a flower no more Lift its head to the blows of the rain; Though they be mad and dead as nails, Heads of the characters hammer through daisies; Break in the sun till the sun breaks down, And death shall have no dominion.

[from a post on “Alive On All Channels”]

#Mother #Ruth #remembrance #anniversary #Alive On All Channels #Dylan Thomas #words and writing #my reflections #Marina Tsvetaeva #portrait

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watchmakermori · 9 months

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so I’m finally reading twilight in 2023. I was never interested in it as a teenager, and if i’m honest i’m even less interested in it now, but it was a massive pop culture phenomenon that caused huge shifts in teen fiction, so I wanted to meet it on its own terms and see if i can understand why it had such a huge following.

i’m about 17% of the way in and my thoughts so far are:

the writing is not great, which I pretty much expected. there are so many transitional scenes (bella cooks steaks, bella starts up the truck, bella parks at school, bella walks from one class to another) which could very easily be cut out to keep the pace a bit tighter. meyer also has that annoying habit of explaining the tone of dialogue when it was already obvious from the dialogue itself. standard show/tell balance issues, nothing major

so edward is actually kind of gingery-haired in the books? can’t believe the blueprint for the brooding dark hair YA love interest was actually ginger

I assumed everyone was exaggerating about how often bella goes on about edward’s ‘perfect face’ but no, she really will not shut up about it. we don’t really get any interesting description about how it is perfect - his features outside of his hair, eyes, and skin don’t really get any airtime.

did you know that it rains a lot in Forks? well, get ready for bella to remind you of that every two pages

bella and edward seem to have...slighty more personality in the books compared to the films? but the emphasis is on slight. bella’s clearest character trait is that she hates attention and gets really stupidly wound up over people noticing her, which definitely isn’t the most riveting of traits, but hey, it’s better than nothing.

edward seems to have marginally more snark than in the films but he’s still dangerously dull. if he and bella had any actual charisma and chemistry it would make the story so much better

I can sort of see why bella works as a protagonist though, because she straddles that happy line between ‘relatable to teenage girls’ and ‘unattainable fantasy for teenage girls’. like a lot of romance protagonists, she has the standard laundry list of flaws that aren’t really flaws, including:

clumsy

not athletic (but she’s still thin, don’t worry)

too pale (apparently this makes her stand out in this white-ass town??????)

not very social (but the entire school is obsessed with her anyway)

I feel like the premise of ‘girl moves to small boring town and falls for a mysterious boy who may or may not be a supernatural creature’ is actually excellent basis for a story. the problem comes from the fact that bella and edward are both incredibly dull characters and it’s hard to care about their romance.

nontheless. I will keep reading and keep adding to this post with my thoughts

#miscellaneous #reading

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iintotheunkncwn · 1 year

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Here’s my whole stance on the James Gunn comment that’s recently come to light…

Now… a few things have come up since the infamous post from Henry Cavill as to why he’s not Supes anymore and whatnot. Some of it even from Gunn himself and I find it quite interesting.

To me, it sounds like he is trying to do some damage control because everyone is literally on his ass over the whole thing. And now that his future lineup is out there for people to see, even more people are on his ass for it. And honestly, his statements are very asshole-ish and I’m not about that shit.

So what you’re saying, Gunn, is you want a completely clean slate to start anew because it’s the future DC deserves. Okay, fine. I’m totally on board with that and I was in the very beginning. I truly believed and still do, that DC needed a whole new storyline. I wasn’t on board with getting rid of a fantastic cast (not including Ezra, and I’ll get to that in a minute). I’m still not happy with it but it is what it is and from the looks of it Gunn doesn’t care what the fans are screaming about so, here we are.

He (Gunn) says that ‘he never fired Henry, Henry was never casted’. Let’s clarify that Henry, indeed, was not hired BY GUNN. Henry was under the old regime and was fucked with. I’m aware that in my old post when everything happened, not only did I blame WB, I also blamed Gunn. But I now realize in light of things it wasn’t Gunn’s fault per se, but WB’s for being dicks to Henry and the way they did him dirty. Unfortunately, Henry got the shit end of the stick here and it really fucking sucks and I’m still mad about it.

NOW. Here is where I still dislike Gunn. Remember I mentioned Ezra earlier? Well here is my gripe with Gunn in this whole thing. You say you want a clean slate, start anew for a new era of superhero films, yet you keep an incredibly problematic man in your arsenal and on top of that, are allowing others within the Snyderverse to potentially keep their jobs as the characters they portrayed. Excuse me but…tell me how this makes ANY sense. I don’t give two shits if the film Ezra is in sets up your line of films. Scrap it like you’ve scrapped everything else with ease. Or edit Ezra out and put someone else in his place. Idk, work that movie magic however you want, but Ezra should not be utilized in any way for a multitude of reasons that a majority of people already know about.

Also, Jason, Gal, Duhwayne and Zachery are still able to keep their roles for potential future projects…when you wanted a clean slate and move away from what was already set up with the Snyderverse. And, yet again, Henry is cut out and gets the shit end of the stick for no reason other than ‘he is not right for this Superman’. Basically, Gunn in his own roundabout way, also screwed Henry from what I’m seeing on my end.

So tell me…how is anything I’ve touched base on, making any sense? Someone please explain this to me because my brain can’t wrap itself around this bit of info.

IF YOU WANT A CLEAN SLATE, GET RID OF EVERYONE WITHOUT EXCEPTIONS, GUNN. Rip that patched bandaid off with one clean swipe and let it be the end of an era to really start over like you’re claiming you want. What’s happening so far just makes everyone (WB, Gunn and Safran) look like even bigger idiots and the future of their films bleak AF. I’m not remotely excited for any of it, personally. The new lineup that was released yesterday is not making me jump for joy in any way or hold out hope for a franchise I have loved for years, and that is WB and Gunn/Safran’s doing.

If you read this far, thanks for coming to my TedTalk / rant. Also, please know that these are things that I personally feel and have observed, and are based on things I’ve read. Please go research things for yourself so you may form your own personal opinion, and if anyone would like to discuss this topic like adults without insults and the like, I am happy to do so. Problematic behavior in the comments / reblogs will not be replied to.

#DCEU #issues are issues and need dealing with but not like this #this is just a fucking mess and a shit show #Henry Cavill

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the12thnightproject · 2 years

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Cursed Bingo LAST CALL

After last call, event will go on semi-hiatus.

Anniversary/follower celebration ask game

My 100th follower slipped in while I was on vacation, and my 1 year tumblr anniversary was in late May, while I was too busy to celebrate, so now I’m throwing a combination Anniversary and 100 125 139-follower celebration.

The nature of this celebration depends on a combination of Asks and Fate, in a game of Cursed Bingo.

How does it work?

You, via the ask box:

Pick up to three characters, from Ikemen Sengoku.

Pick one or two of the prompts from the list of 35 prompts below

Tell me what level of spice you are comfortable with: SFW, Steamy, or NSFW. Most likely, the stories will be SFW or slightly spicy (even if you are ok with NSFW), but if you aren’t comfortable with anything beyond SFW, I need to know.

Examples of asks: “Kenshin, Nobunaga, Motonari; Space Opera AU; Body Swap; Steamy” or “Sasuke; Ground Spikes; Poem; NSFW” or “Mitsuhide, Mitsunari, Sports AU, Magazine Cover & article, SFW”

What will you receive?

I have no idea – Cursed Bingo is a celebration of pure chaos. You might end up with Masamune, Motonari, and Hideyoshi in an Iron Chef style cooking duel. You might end up with a sweetly romantic Mitsunari x MC scene. You might end up with a poem from Kenshin, sent to you via postcard (likely a Canva collage of some kind, as writer is in no way an artist).

Fate:

A randomizer will be used to arrange 25 of the 35 available prompts onto a bingo card (see example below)

I’ll be the only person who knows which numbers are on the card, and where they fall

As the numbered prompts are picked, I will mark off the bingo card

When the card gets close to ‘bingo’ I’ll let you know

As soon as a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal bingo is picked, it’s a Cursed Bingo, and fate decrees that I must include all five prompts from that bingo in a single fic (note, the person whose prompt pick triggers the bingo will still get their prompt fic… cursed bingo is a bonus for all… except me ~sob~)

Notes:

The prompts will generally decide the content of the piece, but I don’t write rape/non-con/dub con; underage sex; assault; major character death; animal abuse/death; pregnancy; slash; explicit sex (it’s not in my skill set, unless you want to read unintentional comedy); second person POV (usually not).

Length of piece primarily depends on chosen prompts (some prompts, such as tier lists and poetry, naturally lend themselves to shorter material)

Once a prompt is picked twice, it will be deleted from the available list

You can submit more than one ask, but in the spirit of fairness, I will answer everyone’s first asks before I work my way through additional requests.

Celebration ends at BINGO

EXAMPLE OF BINGO CARD

(These numbers will be randomized again)

Prompt List

Dialogue (Writer must use the line of dialogue somewhere in the fic)

“You did what?”

“This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“He/She/It’s behind me, isn’t it?”

“I can explain.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s only a flesh wound.”

Format of Story (If none specified, the fiction will be in regular/prose story format)

8. Blind items (gossip column)

9. Questions & Answers

10. Journal/diary entry

11. Tweets

12. Tier List (note, this will include all 17 warlords)

13. Magazine Cover & article

14. Poetry

Tropes:

15. Kabedon (requested twice)

16. Only one bed

17. Body swap

18. Unresolved sexual tension

19. Unrequited

20. Hurt/comfort

21. Accidental Confession

Universe (If none chosen, story will be canon universe)

22. Comedy Club AU

23. Sports AU

24. Space Opera AU

25. Film set AU

26. Mirror Universe

27. Regency England/Napoleonic Wars AU

28. Crossover (writer’s choice, probably nothing too obscure)

Props (writer must use prop in scene)

29. A cat

30. Blindfold

31. Ground spikes

32. Pickled Plums

33. Bearsace

34. Konpieto

35. Postcard

Example of a Cursed Bingo

On the above card, suppose the first completed Bingo is the horizontal middle row: 8, 35, 17, 21, 29

I then would have to write a Blind item-8, include a Postcard -35, a Body swap -17, an accidental confession -21, and a cat -29.

#follower celebration #anniversary celebration #cursed bingo #game #fate #chaos #something chaotic this way comes #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen

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berenwrites · 1 year

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Whole New Us Ch10 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 10. Confessions

“Okay, spill it,” Robin said the moment he picked her up from school during his break from work.

Them having the joint evening shift at Family Video meant he had no wriggle room. As ever Robin could read him like a book.

“So,” he started, pausing mostly because he knew it would drive her crazy.

“Dingus,” she warned.

“I may have kissed Eddie,” he revealed.

“You did not!” she said, eyes going wild.

“Well, technically, he kissed me first,” he added, pulling out of the parking lot.

“You didn’t even tell me you were into him,” Robin accused.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” Steve defended himself. “Eddie’s vulnerable and so I was trying to ignore how attracted I was to him. I thought saying it out loud would make it too real, only, I think it was too real anyway.”

He wanted to turn and look at her, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the road for that long with all the school crowd cars around. When Robin’s hand gently came to rest on his arm, he was pretty sure he was forgiven.

“Okay, I get where you’re coming from,” she assured him. “So, what changed?”

“He came out to me while we were making lunch,” he explained, “and so I came out to him. I told him I had a friend who had explained what bisexual was, but I didn’t tell him it was you. I confessed my Han Solo crush.”

“That film has so much to answer for,” Robin said, tapping his arm.

“Then he asked me my type,” Steve went on. “I know I could have played it off, but in the end, I went for it. Made it obvious I was talking about him. He basically asked me if he could kiss me, and I said yes.”

“Marks out of ten?” was Robin’s next question.

“Off the scale,” he replied without the slightest hesitation.

“So, our Eds is a good kisser then,” Robin concluded.

“Well, yes,” Steve agreed, “but, honestly, I think he could have kissed like a fish, and it would still have been the best kiss of my life because it was him. And that doesn’t even include the whole blood incident.”

“Blood incident?” Robin asked in a high, incredulous tone.

“Do not laugh,” he said.

“Word of honour I’ll try not to,” she replied, which he was well aware was the best he could ask.

“These fangs are sharp, so French kissing is going to take some practice,” he told her.

“Oh, oooh,” Robin said as she caught on.

“You promised not to laugh,” he warned.

“I’m not laughing,” she said, but he could hear the amusement in her voice.

He glanced over and could see the barely controlled smile on her face.

“You’re laughing, I can tell,” he countered.

“I’m not, I’m smiling,” Robin replied, “they are not the same.”

“You’re making fun of me,” he pointed out.

“Only a little,” she promised, “but you have to admit it’s a little funny that the infamous lady’s man of Hawkins High has to learn to kiss all over again. Ooh, did you get a hit of his blood like you got off mine? I’m asking for purely scientific purposes.”

“Now you sound like Dustin,” he said.

“Let me live vicariously through your kissing,” she complained.

“Still can’t believe you haven’t kissed Vicky yet,” he countered.

“She only just broke up with her boyfriend,” Robin replied. “I am not going to swoop in like some callous vulture, and besides, finals are a thing. Now back to the blood question, don’t think I forgot.”

Steve sighed as he found a parking spot near Family Video.

“Yes, I got a hit off Eddie’s blood,” he admitted. “And wow was it a hit. If I ever need to wake up fast, forget caffeine. Everything turned up to ten. My senses, this connection me and Eddie have, everything. It was amazing, but the comedown was a bitch. After about half an hour I crashed, had to take a catnap before coming to work.”

“Another tick for species synchronicity,” Robin said as if that made perfect sense.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said, taking the keys out of the ignition.

“You get a hit off human blood,” Robin explained, “where you don’t from animal blood, which suggests there’s something different about the way your system interacts with it. The most likely explanation is that it’s something to do with how humans are genetically compatible.”

“Or it might have been because it was straight from the source, not from a packet,” Steve said as he thought that through.

“True,” Robin agreed, “but you and Eddie is pointing more towards my theory because you and he are your own species. You’re mostly human, but you’ve got Upside Down stuff in there as well. You’re a unique pair and you react more strongly to his blood than you did to mine. Hence species synchronicity.”

“Okay,” he agreed and went to climb out.

Robin had made a strong case, but Steve couldn’t help thinking it might not be quite that simple.

“So,” Robin said as they walked towards the store, “would you rather I not come over this evening so you and your new squeeze can have some alone time?”

The way she put it made him shudder even if she was just being circumspect because someone might overhear.

“Please, never say that again,” he replied. “And no, I kind of need you to keep me out of my head so I don’t do or say anything stupid when I over think this. Besides which we are very much still on the just kissing part.”

“Gotcha,” she said and linked her arm through his, “but, just so you know, I reserve the right to tease you mercilessly.”

“Funny how not unexpected that is,” he responded in his bitchiest tone. “Just remember I bite back.”

“Not when you’re so embarrassed you can’t speak you don’t,” Robin told him, and he just had to accept it was going to be one of those shifts.

For once he was hoping for a solid stream of customers.

~*~

“Eddie,” Robin greeted as she swept into Steve’s house.

“Lady Buckley,” Eddie responded with a smile.

“Just one question,” she said with a smile that made Steve vaguely panic, “as Steve’s platonic soulmate, do I need to give you the shovel talk?”

Eddie’s eyes opened in shock and Steve felt the flash of icy cold up his spine at the same time.

“You told her?” Eddie asked looking at Steve.

“He did,” Robin sailed on without letting him reply, “because he tells me everything and I am the raving lesbian who helped him figure out he was bi. Now, please, answer the question.”

Eddie blinked at her in shocked silence before finally smiling something of a cheeky smile.

“No,” Eddie replied. “If it comes to that I will lend you the shovel myself.”

Steve thought he might melt from the swell of warmth in his chest.

“Good,” Robin said, “glad we got that out of the way. Now I’m hungry, I’m raiding your refrigerator, Steve.”

“There’s left over casserole in the dish on the first shelf,” he called after her. “You can heat it in the microwave.”

“Thanks.”

Walking over to Eddie he reached out his hand. Eddie stepped up to him and they shared a very quick kiss.

“Missed you,” he confessed.

“Me too,” Eddie replied.

He was about to respond when something occurred to him.

“Just remember to take the foil off first,” he yelled towards the kitchen.

“Sometimes I worry about you two,” Eddie said and laughed. “You’re really going to have to explain that panicked look in your eyes.”

Steve bit his lip. Occasionally, Robin forgot the details when her mind was on other things, and he did not want a repeat of the Burrito Incident which they had promised to never speak of ever again. He wasn’t sure Eddie would take no for an answer, however.

~*~

Since Eddie was still dead as far as the town was concerned, Hopper made the executive decision that Owens would be informed at Steve’s house. Not that Steve or anyone else was complaining. These things worked better as a united front and a van full of people showing up at Hawkins Labs would look suspicious to the government and anyone from town who saw something.

Those there for the planned meeting were of course Eddie and Steve, there was no way Steve was letting Eddie be the only one scrutinised. Wayne as Eddie’s emotional support, Robin as Steve’s, Nancy because she was scary as hell, El as the expert, and Hopper because he could legally carry a gun in plain view just to remind Owens who was running this show.

When the doorbell went, Hopper answered it because everyone else had chosen a very particular place to wait. They were sending a message. Steve did his best to look calm where he was perched on the couch arm next to Eddie.

Owen’s walked in, saw them all and promptly stopped. The man’s eyes scanned each one of them, finally settling on Eddie.

“Ah, Mr Munson,” Owens said, “it seems reports of your death were inaccurate.”

“Just Eddie,” Eddie said, doing a very good impression of unperturbed, Steve was impressed given the bubble of nerves he could feel from his boyfriend that echoed his own, “Mr Munson is my uncle Wayne.”

“I am beginning to understand why we had some peculiar readings from the gates last week,” Owens concluded. “Your bravery precedes you, Eddie. I’m glad you survived.”

“Thanks,” Eddie replied.

“We went in to get him,” Hopper said in a tone that just begged the government man to argue.

“And how did you know he was alive?” Owen asked, eyes flicking to El.

“It was me,” Steve spoke up and found himself the immediate focus of attention.

“Mr Harrington,” Owens said, Steve didn’t correct him, “and how, pray tell did you know Eddie survived?”

“Dreams,” Steve said, since they were here to tell the truth.

They were going to need Owens’ help to get Eddie back into his life. They had agreed lying now would likely bite them on the ass later and Owens was their best way in.

“Bat bites?” Owens asked, proving quite how perceptive he could be.

“Maybe,” Eddie replied, “but we were thinking more bat blood. Also, best guess, why I didn’t die.”

Owens looked between Steve and Eddie, and Steve didn’t like the way he was being analysed, but he refused to fidget.

“It has been several months since the incidents in March,” Owens finally said. “What was the reason for the delay?”

“I didn’t think the dreams were real,” Steve replied, “but that changed.”

“If I may be so bold, why?” was the immediate reply.

“This happened,” he said and let his eyes flash red.

Owens blinked and remained completely silent for a good couple of seconds.

“Yes, I suppose that would be somewhat convincing,” Owens finally said.

“There are perks too,” Eddie said, finishing the sentence standing right next to the other man.

“Holy f…”

Steve was impressed with the way Owens held himself together with how fast Eddie had crossed the distance between them and the fact Eddie had red eyes, claws and a very fangy smile.

“They’re not dangerous,” El said with a smile of her own. “I made sure.”

“Thank you, Jane,” Owens said, plastering professionalism over any anxiety he might be feeling. “This is, well, quite remarkable.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Eddie said as he let the otherness fade.

“Made the Upside Down a lot less terrifying,” Steve agreed.

“And you both have the same physical attributes?” Owen asked.

Steve nodded, holding up his hand and flexing his claws to underline the point. Owen simply nodded.

“What is it you need?” the man asked after a few moments.

“Eddie needs his life back,” Nancy took over since everyone agreed she was the most professional. “We need to come up with a way to do that.”

“That can be arranged,” Owens said in a perfectly reasonable tone that had Steve’s hackles rising.

He had come to expect a ‘but’ when he heard that tone from anyone associated with the mess that was Hawkins.

“Of course, Eddie and Mr Munson will be expected to sign the relevant NDAs,” Owens went on after a slight pause.

“Not a problem,” Eddie said, tone flat.

Owens nodded, even as his eyes flicked between Steve and Eddie.

“Is there anything else?” Owens asked.

“Not right now,” Hopper said.

Steve was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Quite remarkable,” Owens said, not even trying to hide his fascination.

“This is a run down of what Steve and Eddie have discovered so far,” Nancy said, standing and passing a piece of paper to Owens.

It was kind of a peace offering. They had left off the connection between them and been vague about the extent of their strength and speed, but Owens had no way of knowing that. The man scanned the information in short order.

“Thank you, this will be most useful for our records. With the work Jane is helping us with we hope to have the dangers of the Upside Down sealed soon, but we all know that any information can be useful as the most unexpected time,” Owens said.

None of them were arguing there, not that they had ever had all the facts they needed to defeat the next evil on their doorstep.

“Would either or both of you be willing to come in for some tests?” Owens went on in the annoyingly reasonable tone again.

That was what Steve had been waiting for.

“Not yet,” he said and made sure he was looking right at the man. “It’s too soon. Eddie’s been nothing but traumatised since March. He needs time to rest and recuperate and I am going to make sure he has the chance.”

It was never a good idea to outright say no to the shady government people in Hawkins, but he was pretty sure he could put Owens off. At least that was the plan they had all decided on. After what had happened to El, going into a government lab voluntarily was not something either he or Eddie felt like chancing.

“Ah, yes, I can understand that,” Owens agreed with a nod. “Would a therapist be of some help?”

Steve smiled even as he saw the trap.

“Thank you,” he said, “but I don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

“We’ll let you know,” Eddie added.

Owens gave them both a smile and Steve was absolutely sure the man knew what game they were all playing, but clearly, they were winning at the moment.

“Well then, thank you for advising me of the situation,” Owens said. “We will be in touch about Eddie’s official resurrection.”

Steve was very, very glad to get the man out of his house after that.

End of Chapter 10

Chapter 11

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #st: whole new us #fanfic #post season 4 #vampires #kind of vampires #hurt/comfort

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