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brookheimer · 1 year

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honestly, if the shiv pregnancy plotline is done well, i feel like it would end up being kind of, like, revolutionary for female characters in prestige television? 'revolutionary' is a strong word, but even so! just... prestige television is obsessed with the whole Strong Femininity-Rejecting Career Woman archetype and it's a trope that's often been lauded as empowering, as allowing women to be complex like male characters. except... often they're not complex like male characters, they're complex as male characters in that they're treated basically like a 'complex male character' stuck into a female body. the explanation is a legitimate one: the female character rejects classical femininity. sure. the better shows will depict the lengths these women will go to be perceived as 'masculine' in order to survive, to thrive in their patriarchal world. but regardless of the show, the vast majority of Strong Female Characters are never allowed a lot of things that their male equivalents would: namely, love and sometimes family. it's like we think that if a Strong Complex Female Character falls in love or wants a relationship/a family, she's no longer a Strong Complex Female Character, she's just a Female Character. that is so incredibly detrimental! it reifies the belief that love/family/etc are inherently 'feminine' things and that inherently 'feminine' things are inherently weak, and any woman who displays 'femininity' is no more Strong or Complex than a 1950s housewife.

so for shiv, a Strong Complex Female Character who admittedly has spent the majority of the series surrounded solely by men (she's had maybe three conversations without a man present?), ensconced in the 'masculine' defense she's created for herself... for that shiv, girlboss shiv, Strong Complex Femininity-Rejecting Career Woman shiv, to get pregnant and have to reconcile the version of herself she needs to present to the world with whatever she actually is or actually wants (because frankly, we as an audience have no fucking clue what shiv wants in life outside of logan and waystar royco) and her own fear of anything remotely approximating 'femininity'... well, assuming shiv remains shiv, remains manipulative and calculating and angry and machiavellian and 'masculine' and everything else she's inherited from her last name -- everything else that makes men on the internet call her a sociopath -- while also being allowed to explore her relationship with femininity, to maybe want kids or a family because that isn't just a Woman Trope that's also just a natural human desire for connection that many people experience, to be not just the woman or the anti-woman but a fully fleshed out person... i mean. that would kind of be huge, i think.

[more under the cut! like, a lot more. be fucking warned]

really, Strong Career Women were created as the antithesis of the television housewife. the housewife displays every emotion except for anger and deeply desires love and family. therefore, the Strong Woman will display no emotion but anger or pride (because those are the only masculine emotions) and have no interest whatsoever in love and family (because men don't have interest in love and family). and that, obviously, is horseshit -- men experience the entire human spectrum of emotions and desire love and family and all of that, because that's literally just part of being a fucking human. but while prestige television frequently explores the interiority, humanity, desires and dreams, etc etc etc of their complex male characters, they very rarely do the same for their women, at least not outside of the bounds of career and/or other areas where the woman in question demonstrates her power and masculinity (such as relationship power plays). we can't explore the humanity of Strong Female Characters because then they'd show emotion and desire love and connection, which would out them as women, as housewives, not Strong Female Characters.

we think emotion and yearning deepens male characters and lessens female characters, because we 'expect' that from women but not from men. when a woman cries on television, we think 'here they go again.' when a man cries, we think it's a shocking and meaningful display of vulnerability. both in-universe of the shows and in real life, in the writer's room and beyond, Strong Complex Women are only taken seriously so long as they reject 'femininity' as much as humanly possible. Strong Complex Female Characters have to be one-note, because if they show any other notes, they stop being seen as strong or complex. their lives begin and end in the office, in the presence of men, in the persona they've created for themselves. if there is a self beyond those boundaries, we never see it. we're not allowed to. Strong Women are uniquely forbidden from those basic aspects of human life, even more so than men, i'd argue, because to display any of those qualities would be to out yourself as A Woman and prove everyone right, to lose any and all credibility you've ever gained in your entire career because now they now you've been A Woman all along. but that's not realistic, that's not human. yet because they are still women and on some level do still want to be seen as women, but that's impossible to balance with the need to be seen as a man. there are almost no female characters that are allowed to simultaneously embrace 'femininity' and desire 'feminine' things such as love and family while still prioritizing their careers, being cold and manipulative and calculating, and presenting 'masculine' in the way they handle themselves.

i'm not saying shiv has been poorly written so far, or that succession has been, like, enormously sexist by keeping a lot of her interior life private. i think in large part this has been purposeful and makes a lot of sense -- after all, shiv is notoriously most resistant when it comes to self-reflection, possibly more than anyone else; kendall obsessively introspects, roman hates it and deflects but that's largely because he already knows what he is and can't bear to be reminded of it, but shiv is... well, a little delusional at times. forcibly delusional. she has to delude not only herself but everyone else around her in order to survive as a woman in a man's world, a liberal in a conservative company, a hardcore capitalist in a bernie sanders campaign. kendall wants to be a good person but knows he isn't, roman doesn't believe it's possible for him to be a normal person let alone a good one, but shiv clings onto these label of Good Person and, i don't know, Essentially A Man, with such intensity and desperation that any actual self-reflection would literally be suicide. it would burst that bubble entirely and then what's left?

well. what IS left? because, i mean, something would be. she's still a person. she's not a robot programmed to imitate men and show no emotion or desire (god knows she's not even good at pretending). but shiv would never take that step of her own volition. she'd never just sit down and think "hm, let's actually dig into what i really want from life and from myself" -- and even if she did, she wouldn't be honest about it.

then boom. pregnancy. "oh fuck i am a woman. oh fuck what if i do want a kid and this is my only chance. oh fuck" etc etc etc. it's not reducing shiv to being a womb (crazy take, by the way) but it's actually expanding her from being the lack of one. rather than simply being a Woman with a distinct set of qualities and no contradicting ones or an Anti-Woman with the opposite set of qualities and not a hint of anything that could be construed as a former, she'd become a person. obviously, you can be a person and a woman without being pregnant or wanting kids or a family, but we don't even know what shiv wants! she hasn't allowed herself to consider it seriously, because that would be betraying her Anti-Woman Survival Method! it's not saying that pregnancy/family/etc are necessary for a full and happy life, but rather, spending your entire life terrified of showing interest in anything perceived as 'feminine' and thus weak, of showing emotion or desire or love because you know how the men in the room will receive it -- that isn't satisfying! that isn't a happy life! that's a life lived in fear, denial, and repression masked as Masculine Self-Sufficiency to such an extreme extent that men don't even do that. the only thing worse than a man displaying 'feminine' characteristics is a woman displaying 'feminine' characteristics -- the feeling men talk about when displaying emotion is the disgust, judgment, and dismissal women (particularly those trying to perform masculinity/live in masculine spheres) experience on a day-to-day basis. while a man displaying emotion is met with shame in the moment, a woman displaying emotion is seen as a confirmation of what the men around her have been thinking all along: she's weak, she's not up to it, she's a 'woman.' men can shake it off. women can't. the reason displaying emotion feels uniquely hard for men is because it's their first time being treated like a woman.

anyways. i digress. succession has been hinting at things all along -- moments that show she genuinely loves tom, the conversations with her mother, etc -- and now that throughline can actually, y'know, follow through, and it might be fucking great, guys. that's what i'm hoping for with the shiv arc -- her trying to reconcile with the fact that she's a woman, and the show using it as a way to explore the bizarre and arbitrary way we assign 'femininity' to natural aspects of human life and desire, making those things impossible for women to ever even consider wanting or earnestly caring about if they want to be seen as people rather than as capital-w Women (and what is a capital-w Woman anyways?), and just, like, idk. i think it's idiotic to act like women like shiv aren't allowed to want kids and families -- and that narrative is so deeply ingrained in society that the presumably largely female/feminist/progressive online succession fanbase has been constantly reiterating that same trope as a genuine criticism levied against the writers' decision to make shiv pregnancy!

i said in another post that this plotline feels to me like... high risk, high reward. yeah, it's high risk, it could go terribly in so many ways, but to me personally as someone who has been endlessly endlessly fascinated with the internalized misogyny within so many 'feminist' narratives and the apparent belief that strong women aren't allowed to 'act like women' if they want to continue being seen as strong, as someone who has unironically written a multitude of papers and articles on this topic for college and for journals, the reward is just SO fucking high. like, this could be a fucking GAME CHANGER. if they pull this off it might genuinely alter the way prestige media writes 'strong female characters' which is something that has been needed for years. there will always be risk in storylines as historically ridden with misogyny as pregnancy/abortion/etc narratives are, but if there's any show right now i trust to approach this with care and deftness and real thought, it's succession. if it flops, it flops, and that will genuinely suck. a lot. but even if there's only 1% chance for success, that's still, like, 0.9% more than any other show i can think of. so fuck it. full speed ahead, baby. do this shit right

#jesus motherfucking christ this was a doozy #my blog is so funny bc it's like: 1min succession shitpost (5000 notes) 234298498k word essay about a character (12 notes)#perpetually in awe of people who can be concise. that is not me but godbless #if even a single person reads this entire thing i'll eat my hat. christ #hopefullyyyyy this makes sense and has value for some people. lolol yall must think im insane huh #look i'm in bed with a fever what else am i gonna do? my work? no #whatever. might reblog later if like Really really nobody sees it bc it's 4 pm on a tuesday but meh #succession #succession spoilers #shiv roy #succession meta #i guess. honestly more like prestige television meta LOL #casey shut the fuck up about shiv roy #< new tag. have one for roman but clearly need one for shiv too #long post

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littlemorsel56 · 3 months

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Spoilers for Poppy Playtime CH3

Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 (Updated)

Here are some of my theories.

We're playing as Richie. He cares about these kids, complaining about the environment of the work, he's a loving man with a good heart, and DogDay called him an angel. Could have been the only person who knows more about Playtime Co. but never about what is actually happening to those kids in Playcare or the fact they were tested. Huggy Wuggy, Mommy Long Legs, they all saw him in the background, but they never knew he was a kind man who cared about kids, only in they're view, they see him as the rest of the Playtime Co. employees who experiment on them. Miss Delight remembers him. Remember him working here and asking how is he alive. Make sense because no one else is alive in the Playtime Co. She even wanted him to leave before CatNap finds him for his own safety. Richie cares about his co-workers, his friends, and the kids, never his job. Not like the other humans. He's not like everybody. In Bijuu Mike's playthrough (I usually just watch randomly if someone finds any secrets or hidden messages in the game), he had one of the audio reversed through the edit. "Why weren't you here. You missed the event. You missed the meeting. You miss the party. You have no right to be here." Honestly, clever idea during the terrifying environment to put that secret message there. It happened, on 8/8/95, August, on a Tuesday, 11:01 Am in the morning, there was a meeting that morning before the Hour of Joy suddenly happened and Rich missed that event. Every employee was possibly there and except one survivor and that's the character we're playing. Rich possibly witnessed something before that day. He discovers the truth and instead of reporting it to the authorities or helping the kids, he stays home, not telling anyone as the guilt haunts him. He didn't know if what he saw was real or not, and probably even quit afterward that day when he found the truth, he stayed silent for 10 years, until the note told him they were still alive, only for it to be a lie. In Project Playtime, Leith Pierre (I'm putting my bet he's the real antagonist of the story who started all of this), sent survivors, or the Resource Extraction Specialists, to make more toys, knowing they were going to die when they stepped foot into that place. He's possibly even alive in that place or escaped there when it happened, continuing the project that has killed everyone, 1006, the Prototype killed everyone, and he's watching through the cameras, studying it from a safe distance. Remember the tap of the audio during the first chapter at the end of the game. "One breakthrough and I'll be back. We must forge onward in the name of science, whether those who are beneath us understand it or not."

Rich is one of those who are lower-end employees and saw something he shouldn't have seen. Rich was about to become a higher-up of the Playtime Co, a replacement that Stu offered him. Rich took it, he saw the truth, ran away, and stayed quiet.

Update Forgot about another person who could be behind this besides Leith Pierre, that would be Harley Sawyer, the doctor. Wants mascots to come alive, Playtime Co is low on money, is also a high-up employee, and could be the actual creator and the mastermind of the Prototype, Not Leith Pierre and the one who escaped (Got ahead of myself with the theories and I'm loving it. I also have several other theories about Elliot Ludwig and will probably post it later on.)

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #playtime co ex employee #project playtime

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ladykailitha · 7 months

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Fake Boyfriend Part 1

This was going to be an AO3 exclusive until I found out I couldn't do the strikethrough coding for the titles over there and until I think of one that works as well as this one does, it goes here first. There is a second part that will be posted on Tuesday as it got a tad too long for Tumblr (clocking out at over 3k).

Summary: After most of the older teens have gone off to college, Eddie goes over to Steve's to hang out. When he finds Steve on the phone with one of his co-workers, he tells Steve to pretend Eddie is his boyfriend to get the guy to back off via notes on his notebook. It works better than he could possibly dream as the more Steve describes his "boyfriend" the more it sounds real.

***

Eddie let himself into the Harrington mansion like he always did, backpack slung over his shoulder. Steve and he was long since past caring about knocking on each others’ houses’ doors. Bedrooms on the other hand were sacrosanct and closed doors were to be respected at all times, but their houses? Open invitation. Always.

He went straight to the kitchen because if Steve was going to be anywhere in that labyrinthine house of his, it was going to be the kitchen. He entered through the open doorway just as Steve snapped.

“Fuck you!” he growled.

Eddie frowned. “Hey!”

Steve turned and he could see that Steve was on the phone with someone. The other man mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ when he spotted Eddie in the doorway.

“I gave you this number for work purposes only,” Steve continued with a sigh. “I’m just not interested in you, Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Understanding slowly dawned over Eddie. He knew who Steve was talking to now. Caleb worked at the same hair salon Steve did and was constant thorn in Steve’s side. Always flirting with him and just generally making Steve uncomfortable.

He ripped the backpack off of his shoulder and started digging around. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He turned to a blank page and wrote: TELL HIM YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Steve looked at the sign with a frown of confusion. ‘But I don’t’ he mouthed back.

Eddie pointed at himself.

Steve chewed on his thumb for a moment before he nodded. “Caleb!” he said interrupting the other man’s stream of consciousness that he was just spewing at Steve on the end of the line. “Look. I didn’t want to have to pull this card because ‘no’ is a complete sentence, but I have a boyfriend.”

Eddie gave him a thumbs up.

“I haven’t brought him up before because he’s not out–”

Eddie scoffed, smirking with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean we’re not out as a couple to our friends and family,” Steve amended, sticking his tongue out at him. “Of course they know I’m bisexual and he’s gay, they just don’t know that we’ve been dating.”

That was certainly true, especially considering that they weren’t actually dating.

Eddie scribbled another note: WAYNE

“Well,” Steve said with a huff of laughter, “his uncle knows, but my parents don’t.”

Eddie started on another note, but Steve beat him to it. “It’s a small house and thin walls, the dude was going to find out sooner or later.”

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.

Steve laughed. “And have my parents walk in on us? Fuck that. I trust his Uncle Wayne way more than I do my parents.”

Eddie looked down at the half-written message that would have spelled out TRUST with a fond smile on his face.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you want me to prove he exists? Like describe him or something?”

Eddie jotted down another note: PERSISTANT BASTARD

Steve slammed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that bubbled to his lips.

He cleared his throat. “So are we talking looks or personality?” he asked. “Because I could go on about both.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, causing Steve’s cheeks flush.

“Looks?” Steve asked, his voice a little high at the absurdity of it all. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. He’s got the most amazingly soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen outside of the movies. I’ve heard people describe them as doe-eyed or puppy-dog eyes. They aren’t bad descriptions, just... not close enough. I don’t think there is a word or phrase that matches their glory.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of mouth to hide his embarrassment. Steve took a step toward him.

“He has long hair in soft curly locks that frame his face,” Steve continued and Eddie dropped the aforementioned lock, choosing to duck his head, and look away, rocking back on his heels.

Steve took another step forward. “He has these dimples that just light up his whole countenance when he smiles. They are the single most kissable part of his face, if you don’t include his lips.”

Eddie’s mind was spinning out of control, because there was no way Steve was making this up on the spot. These had to be things Steve had actually thought about.

But Steve wasn’t done talking. “He’s whipcord thin, but don’t let that fool you. He is strong, so strong.”

Eddie head jerked up and stared at Steve in amazement.

The other boy ducked his head, twirling his fingers around the phone cord. “I told you could go on and on about his looks, man. I could tell you about how long his eyelashes are or his legs that give him this causal sensuality that should be fucking illegal.”

Eddie didn’t think he could get any redder. He was so, so wrong.

“You want me to wax poetic about his personality now?” Steve asked incredulously. “No, I’m not describing Jon Bon Jovi. He’d be offended at the comparison. Eddie Van Halen is closer to the mark, or maybe Kirk Hemmett if you really make him blush.”

Cue Eddie’s blush burning his ears and flushing his throat; a part of his body that was refusing to do what it was supposed to and fucking allow breath to enter his lungs.

“What’s he like?” Steve breathed and Eddie was instantly jealous of his ability to do so. “He is so smart.”

Eddie snorted divisively.

“The school system may have failed him more times then I care to count,” Steve insisted, “but god, he is so clever, coming up with stories on fly. He has all this knowledge of so many things. He learned elvish and is learning dwarfish.” He snorted. “Because he can.”

Eddie blushed. Even his friends from Hellfire and Corroded Coffin thought he was a little insane trying to learn those languages. Not Steve, apparently.

“He uses it for his D&D games–campaigns, sorry,” Steve said, more to Eddie then to Caleb. Eddie mouthed ‘It’s okay.’ And Steve lit up with the brightest smile.

He took another step forward. “You know those kids that come into the store all the time?” Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, my kids. He loves them as much as I do. Maybe even more.”

Eddie scrambled to write another note: NOT POSSIBLE

Steve blushed this time. “Understands them better, certainly.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. That was fair.

“He DMs for them every week,” Steve continued. “DM? Oh that stands for dungeon master. It’s like the storyteller or master of the story. He sets the path for the characters to follow or blatantly ignore.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh.

“He does the voices for each person the party meets and it always makes me laugh,” Steve said. “My favorite is the voice he did for the princess. I don’t think there was a dry eye from all the laughing everyone was doing.”

Eddie grinned. That was his favorite, too. He had done it to make Steve laugh, the fact that it had made everyone else laugh too was just icing on the cake.

“Which, of course, impressed Dustin,” Steve said. He paused. “Oh Dustin is the one with curly hair and those hats.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. That’s another strike against this Caleb dude, not knowing the names of Steve’s kids. Like they came as a packaged deal. Everyone knew that.

Steve cleared his throat and looked down as he too felt Caleb’s disinterest keenly as well. “Anyway, anyone who can impress that little butthead is number one in my book.”

Eddie smiled tenderly at Steve before he jotted down a note again. YOU IMPRESS HIM TOO.

Steve blushed. “He can take his talent for story telling into song writing as well. He might not be the singer of his band–” There was another pause. “Yeah, an honest to god, plays at The Hideout every Tuesday metal band. He plays guitar. Lead, not rhythm. His best friend Jeff is rhythm guitar and their lead singer. He can read music and learn a song by ear. Do you know how fucking rare that is? To be able to do both? Trust me, it’s rare, okay?”

“Look, Caleb,” Steve growled, “don’t get pissy with me. You asked me describe my boyfriend. I warned you that I could go on and on.”

Eddie could barely breathe. This was starting to feel less like an excuse to get this asshole to stop harassing Steve and more and more real with every compliment that came out of his friend’s mouth.

Steve’s own breath caught in his chest. He looked directly at Eddie, so full of adoration, Eddie was sure his heart full on stopped.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Steve murmured, “of course I love him. God, how could I not. He means everything to me.” He tried to step forward but the cord got caught in his fingers, so he unwrapped it and took a final step toward Eddie. The cord was now taut, stretched as far as it could go.

Eddie could tell that the scant two feet between them was too far for Steve, but he was tethered to phone. He knew that that ache and longing in Steve’s face mirrored his own expression.

“And I am so grateful I get to call him mine...” Steve finished, his breath shallow as he fought to get his heart rate under control.

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***

Part 2

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fake relationship #for all of ten minutes #because they dorks are that far gone for each other

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rubydubydoo122 · 26 days

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Ok…so I saw a post about Dick hating Jason after he came back from the dead and like… it said that canonically, Dick wishes Jason stayed dead.

And, like, yeah, I guess that makes sense, but it also rubbed me in the wrong way? Like… hrgh.

But like… I’ll accept that Dick didn’t like Jason when Jason was 17/18/19 taking over Gothams crime. ONLY BECAUSE—

And ONLY because, as someone who has multiple siblings, especially in dysfunctional households, you hate them for the longest time of your life either because

A.) your parents put a sibling on a pedestal or

B.) because a sibling refuses to stay within the boundaries that the parent has created,

which is literally the problem for both Dick and Jason.

In Jason’s eyes, Dick is the golden child and can do no wrong. In Dicks eyes, he sees Jason’s ‘crime lord’ era as petty teenage rebellion, and blatant disrespect towards Bruce and his morals/teachings.

Eventually, you realize that at the end of the day, the only person who really understands you is your sibling. They more or less went through the same thing, they just have a different way of processing through it. So one random Tuesday, you’ll be acting like you haven’t been hating each other your whole life, and then a couple years later you’ll be saying things like ‘remember that time I almost killed you’ and ‘oh yeah, I absolutely hated you back then’ but you’ll be laughing as you say it because it was genuinely so petty the way you acted with/towards them when you should’ve been hating your parents.

TLDR: parents playing favorites will lead to sibling resentment but eventually turn into a lifelong bondage that’s stronger than iron

#jason todd #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #batman #red hood #nightwing #if you don’t understand this #you’re an only child #that’s the only thing I can tell you #I also think Dick not wanting Jason alive was him working backwards through his stages of grief #idk if it was denial or unloading acceptance

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 months

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The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (Teaser)

Posting Date: Tuesday, December 19th, 7:00 PM CT

Creative Collaborator: @kithtaehyung FOR THIS AMAZING BANNER!

Genre: Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Length: One Shot

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration!

Estimated WC: 45K (... whoops; this will probably be multiple parts)

Rating: 18+

Preview: 2,141

Y/N POV

You should have known better than to trust Namjoon with your dating life.

Yoongi never would have put you in this situation. The more level-headed of your two best friends, Yoongi approaches matters of the heart with the same rationality he does everything else. Namjoon, on the other hand, is a great guy – who is notoriously bad at reading other people.

The number of times you’ve been forced to step in and save him from phone scams is astounding. It’s not his fault, really – Namjoon trusts too easily, which doesn’t serve him well in this world. He’s always willing to give others the benefits of the doubt, which gets him into trouble.

And now you, by extension, having accepted the blind date he proposed.

Mike Davis moved into Namjoon’s building two months ago, and Namjoon has been adamant since the start that you two would hit it off.

“He goes to all the same conventions you do,” he assured you last week on the phone.

“Which conventions?” you asked, squinting hard at the wall. “I know you’re not big into nerd culture, Namjoon, so as an FYI – not all cons are considered equal.”

Namjoon rattled off a few you’d attended, impressing you enough to agree despite the initial disinterest. This agreement may have been spurred by tonight being the three-month anniversary of the worst break-up of your life.

Almost as soon as you sat, you realized your mistake. While you may have reached a point where you don’t cry every time your ex’s name is mentioned, the prospect of dating someone else is an entirely different matter. Getting dressed up felt strange, as did traveling to the restaurant and waiting for Mike at the bar.

The fact that Mike called this place a ‘restaurant’ should have been your first clue, as Hat Trick is most definitely a sports bar – specifically, a hockey bar. Had you known (really, you should have known), you wouldn’t have gone, but you were nervous and trying to make a good impression. Upon arriving, you arranged yourself awkwardly on a sticky bar stool and waited seven minutes for Mike to walk in.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself regretting coming at all. Mike excused himself two minutes ago for the bathroom and as soon as he left, you sagged with relief.

He’s a nice guy, you suppose. Good looking, with light brown curls and dark eyes. You can see why Namjoon thought he might be good for you – Mike is the exact opposite of your ex in many ways. Constantly frazzled, he arrived late to the bar, only to immediately duck outside because he forgot to pay the parking meter. Jimin was the type to unpack his suitcase immediately after reaching the hotel and brought several chargers in case one of them died.

Once the meter was paid, Mike sat down and immediately launched into his entire life story. You suppose you should have been happy about this, since lack of communication ended your last relationship but instead, found yourself overwhelmed.

Mike finally paused for breath once your drinks arrived, allowing you a moment to answer his questions. The moment you said you ran a pretty popular cosplay TikTok, Mike instantly shifted from arrogant to insecure.

“I can’t believe you came,” he exhaled with a shake of his head. “When Namjoon showed me your picture, I said no way would you go out with me. You’re way too beautiful.”

Somewhat awkward, you laughed. “Don’t try and get me to leave, now, Mike.”

His eyes widened, not catching your sarcasm and it took several moments to get back on track. Everything since has been downhill, so when he excused himself for the bathroom, all you felt was relief.

Digging through your purse, you pull out your phone and swipe to the group chat.

Y/N: Namjoon, WHAT possessed you to set me up with this man [7:46 PM]

Yoongi’s reply comes immediately.

Yoongi: told you it was too soon [7:46 PM]

Namjoon’s ellipses join in.

Namjoon: what! Why? What happened?? Mike didn’t try something on you, did he? [7:47 PM]

Y/N: no, no – nothing like that [7:47 PM]

Y/N: he just keeps saying how *amazing* I am and how he doesn’t know why I’m on this date at all [7:47 PM]

Yoongi: dude [7:48 PM]

Y/N: EXACTLY [7:48 PM]

Before Namjoon can respond, the bartender changes the channel and an all-too-familiar name blares over the speakers. Slowly, you look up, and all thoughts of Mike fade, faced with NHL coverage.

Nope, no – absolutely not.

Leaning over the counter, you lightly tap the bartender. “Hi.” Brightly, you smile. “First off, could I have another glass of white wine? And then, maybe… could you change the channel?”

Glancing around, the guy shakes his head. “Yes, to the wine, but no, the channel,” he says with a shrug. “Half the people in here came to watch the game. Pre-show coverage is part of that.”

With an apologetic nod, he grabs a rag and disappears. Sinking back in your seat, you stare at your hands, clasped tightly together. Your spot at the bar puts you in the unfortunate position of hearing each word the announcers say crystal-clear.

“Well, Josh, what chance do you think the Blackhawks have tonight?”

The silver-haired man beside him bobs his head. “Steve, I’d say their chances are pretty darn good. You’ve seen this team’s early games. Their first line is strong, especially now that Park’s back.”

“Oh, absolutely – Jimin Park has been crucial in the last couple of games. He was sorely missed last season.”

“Ha! You can say that again.”

Trying to hide your wince, you clasp your hands tighter as a fresh glass of wine is set down. “Thanks,” you mutter, downing half in one gulp.

Immediately, your plans for later tonight shift to accommodate another bottle of wine. Movement catches the corner of your eye, and, despite yourself, you watch the montage of star right winger, Jimin Park, tearing his way down the ice. Shamefully, you recognize every shot since, although you broke up in September, you continued to watch every game.

“One of the most talked about moments last year in hockey was the late check on Park by Blues player, Brent Howard,” continues the announcer, Josh. “His helmet came loose when he hit the boards, and he went down hard on the ice. Park suffered a sprained knee and herniated a disc in his neck. A complicated surgery took him for most of the season, only starting to skate with the team again over the summer.”

Hearing the trauma recounted with such callousness, you find yourself gripping your wine glass tighter than before.

“I don’t think anyone ever expected Park to play again,” agrees the other announcer, Steve. “It’s a damned miracle he’s back on the ice – but to return and be this good? Park has always been one of the best right wingers in the league, but I’d say he’s the best offensive player on the ice right now.”

“A bold claim!” laughs Josh. “But I might just agree. Even Jungkook Jeon on the Rangers hasn’t been matching Park in assists.”

“Exactly! I mean, look at the numbers. Last year, the Blackhawks barely made the playoffs and now, they’re first in the Western Conference.”

“Truly amazing, given the nature of his injury last November. I don’t know how familiar you are with herniated discs, Steve, but –”

Mike slides back onto his stool. Grateful for the distraction, you turn fully to face him. Having already lived through the injury once, you have no need to reminisce. Replacing your phone in your purse, you smile gamely at Mike.

“So,” you say, attempting to save the conversation. “Namjoon mentioned you like conventions? What fandoms are you a part of?”

“Oh.” Mike loosely shrugs. “I doubt you’ve heard of any of them.”

At his dismissive tone, you stiffen. Your experience with the male side of fandom is always a toss-up. “Well, there are a lot of them. Any that are more mainstream?”

He considers. “Marvel?”

Stunned, you blink once or twice. Marvel has to be one of the biggest fandoms on the planet, let alone in the country. Even if you weren’t deep in the convention circuit, you’d have heard of Marvel.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think I’ve heard of that.”

“Cool, cool.” Mike nods. “Namjoon said you do cosplay – and showed me your TikTok! You know, you’d make a great Wonder Woman.”

You can practically feel your jaw tighten. “That’s DC, not Marvel. But thanks.”

Silent, you add for nothing. While you love Wonder Woman and have, in fact, cosplayed her many times, men usually only request her for one reason and that’s the skimpy outfit. Whenever you cosplay as circa 2010 Wonder Woman in pants, they’re decidedly less interested. By now, you’ve learned only to pick your characters based on personal interest.

“Have you ever cosplayed?” you ask.

Unbidden, your gaze slides to the TV. Commercial break. Stifling your twinge of disappointment, you refocus on Mike.

“Nah.” His nose wrinkles, and your stomach sinks further. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

Hearing your tone, his eyes widen. “I mean, it’s cool for you. I saw your TikToks and you look amazing. I’d just look dumb,” Mike says, attempting a laugh.

Sweetly, you smile. “I don’t know. My ex used to cosplay with me, and no one ever laughed at him.”

Admittedly, this is something of a low blow since your ex-boyfriend is Jimin Park, but either Namjoon didn’t tell him, or Mike doesn’t care. Which – if that’s so, maybe Mike deserves more credit than you gave him.

“Ah.” He nods, taking a sip of his beer. “Have you ever thought about cosplaying as Wonder Woman, though?”

Your smile vanishes. Then again, maybe you’ve given him exactly the right amount of credit.

“I have,” you say. “But more recently, I’ve been cosplaying Dimension 20 characters. It’s kind of niche, but my last character was Sundry Sidney from A Starstruck Odyssey. You know – giant machine gun arm, roller skates and a mechanical eye. Oh, and a ‘fuck erotica ann’ button, of course.”

Mike’s smile freezes. “Why… would you dress like that?”

“Because it’s fun.” Finishing your glass of wine, you toss a few bills on the counter and stand. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Mike, but I think we’d be better off as friends. Don’t you agree?”

Even with the answer right there in the question, still he looks flummoxed.

“I…”

“Or acquaintances,” you add, pulling on your pea coat. “Or nothing at all. Whatever you prefer.”

Slinging your purse on your shoulder, you wave at the bartender and start to leave. You only make it several steps before Mike mutters something beneath his breath – loud enough that you hear.

“Stupid,” he mutters. “This is why you don’t date women like her, Mike.”

You come to a stop. Really, you should keep going. Common sense – and Namjoon’s HOA – depend on you being the bigger person and walking out. But your therapist has said you need to work on communicating, even when the message is something the other person won’t like.

Turning around, you tap Mike on the shoulder.

He glances upward, surprised – and then reddens, realizing you heard.

“Yep, I heard,” you say shortly, retracting your hand. “Was your muttering supposed to be secret?”

Mike opens, then closes his mouth, like a fish.

“What did you mean, ‘women like me?’” you demand, folding your arms. “Ones with self-respect? Or hobbies? Women who know more about a subject than you do?”

Behind the counter, the bartender snort-laughs, rising in your esteem despite the whole TV channel thing.

Mike stares at you, stunned. He seems to grow a pair in that moment though, straightening to face you on his stool. “Women with sticks up their asses,” he blurt.

Stifling an eye roll, you lean closer. “Listen, Mike,” you say, placing one hand on the counter. “If you think you can hurt my feelings – think again. Someone broke my heart three months ago, so nothing you say now will remotely compare. Do you really want to know why women like me won’t date you?”

The furrow between his brows deepens, and you take this as a sign to continue. Leaning even closer, you lower your voice.

“It’s because you’re insecure,” you say softly. “Giving someone a compliment and putting yourself down in the same sentence isn’t nice, it’s awkward. Not to mention, you’re sexist,” you add, watching him stiffen. “Telling me – a two-time Comic Con trivia champion – that I wouldn’t know Marvel is wild. Oh, and you’re a snob. Tabletop games are awesome, and cosplay is fun. Have a good night – I paid for your drink.”

With that, you turn around and march out the door to a smattering of applause from your new favorite bartender.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin au #bts au

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poetrysmackdown · 8 months

Text

THE FINAL SMACKDOWN.

Big congratulations to "The Two-Headed Calf" for a solid win over "How to Be a Dog" (and to our Third Place competitor, "Wild Geese")!

Thank you to all who participated. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you guys did as well! I've said it before but I had no idea this would get as big as it did, and it's been truly heartening to see this many people engaging with poetry and getting excited about it. I'm personally grateful to all the folks I got the chance to discuss poems with, and everyone who challenged me to see these poems in a new light. Whether you were introduced to new poems or reunited with old ones, whether you voted with the majority or against it, I hope you got something out of this as well.

As promised, here is the grand stats spreadsheet. The smackdown with the highest turnout was the semifinal matchup "The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin vs. "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver with 17,449 votes! In second place, Round 1: "Poem" by Langston Hughes vs. "A Meeting" by Wendell Berry with 16,690 votes.

Unfortunately my real-life responsibilities have hit me like a truck and I don't have time to do a whole post dedicated to reviewing more of it, but I hope y'all might share any insights you have below! I also included the word count stats on the "summary" page, as suggested in this ask by @puddinginthemix. Nevertheless, they don't seem to demonstrate a concrete trend in one direction or the other—the mean word count difference technically gives a slight edge to longer poems in competition, but with such an insane standard deviation as to render the whole thing silly.

On the topic of a sequel.

After some deliberation, I've decided I would love to do another one of these focusing on poems that are lesser-known on Tumblr! In a perfect world I would just jump right in again, but it's quickly becoming clear to me that I will not have time to sort through/pair submissions and then run the thing while balancing work and school in the upcoming semester. With that in mind, my plan is to run it over the winter holidays so I'm able to give it more of my attention. That said, I've already made the submission form, and I'm tempted to release that ASAP so that I can use any downtime in the fall to read, review, and structure things thoughtfully. I also just figure it'll get a higher volume of submissions if I release it now. I know it's probably not ideal, but would people be cool with me opening submissions earlier, even if it means there'll be a significant time gap between submission and competition? If so, I'll get that out no later than Tuesday, and likely keep it open for a few weeks (unless it gets, like, seriously swamped lol).

Lastly, I've still got some asks I need to get through.....they're still on my mind. I'll do my best to respond to everyone within the next week!

Thank you again to everyone who participated, it's been such a joy!

#poetry smackdown #stats

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mochimooon · 6 months

Text

DTF Only (Let's Experiment) - connie springer x reader 18+

pairing: Connie Springer x afab! Reader summary: Connie invites you to a kick-back for some playtime ;) word count: 3500+ notes: Part 4 of DTF Only. My first piece with Connie, don't know what took me so long to write for him because this was more fun than I thought ! I need to write more of him. (Indented text refers to Reader's messages). Thank you to those who gave me ideas of what kind of tattoos Connie would have on this post. I appreciate the inspo! warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, handjobs, vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

You declined Reiner’s offer to stay over. He was still kind of enough to drive you home afterwards. While you had fun with him, you didn’t want to make it awkward for him when he had to check out of the hotel.

Exhausted, you collapse onto your bed after your nighttime routine, reopening Tinder before you go to sleep.

A new message from another match came through a few hours earlier.

Hey there!!!!! What’s up? Wanna hang?

Tapping on Connie’s profile, you see that he’s currently active.

The enthusiasm is nice, but you take the time to assess his profile and pictures like you did with Reiner and Porco.

Light brown hair, kept on the shorter side, cartilage piercings on one ear, and as seen in every photo, a tattoos along his arm. You can’t make out what they are, however. He’s another cutie. You always knew you had good taste as far looks go.

Judging from the pictures, he’s a musician, whether professional or amateur, you don’t know, seated behind a drum set with a video of him in action. The clashing of symbols and beating of drums echo loudly in your room and you can tell he’s got a lot of energy. He’s twenty-eight, so that could explain the spunk.

Switching over to his bio, you laugh.

Drummer 🥁 420 friendly 5’9”, sorry ladies, but God put the extra inches elsewhere 😉

Hey Connie In bed but would like to hang out some time Free this week?

Hey!!! I’m free rn!!! I’m a great cuddler 😉

Good to know lol

Jk You doing anything tomorrow night? My friend is hosting a kick-back, come by!

A party? On a Tuesday night? Connie’s friends must be an interesting bunch.

Haha kinda My friends have weird schedules, so we end up meeting randomly during the week A couple people, nothing wild, what do you say? Be my guest? 😁

You see no harm in it, and if you do end up sleeping with Connie, there’s a guarantee that you’ll have a room.

Yesssss!!!! It starts at 7:30p Here’s my number btw, I can send you the address through there.

You debate whether you want to exchange numbers right away.

Alright, just sent you a text.

Connie abandons the conversation on Tinder, replying via his number.

Nice! Can’t wait to meet you Anyways…what’re you wearing to bed?

Good night

…

You can hear the music playing faintly on the other side of the door, so you ring the doorbell after knocking to ensure that someone will answer.

It swings open a minute later, and you’re met with a confused looking man with blond hair.

I can never escape the blond men, you muse, straining a smile.

“Hi…” Your eyes peek over the man’s frame for any sign of Connie. “Connie invited me.”

He tilts his head, thinking for a moment when it clicks. “Oh! Oh, yeah, he said you’re coming.” He says your name and you confirm with a nod. “Cool, come inside—”

“Is she here?” a voice rings out, an octave higher than the music.

Connie sidles to the blond man, skidding to a stop like an eager dog, greeting you. “Hi! Thanks for coming by! Come in, come in, this is Niccolo by the way, it's his house.”

You and Niccolo exchange an awkward wave as you step inside, allowing Connie to slide his arm along your shoulders.

In person, his hair is a little longer, on the scruffy side; you think it suits him best, and up close you get a better look at the piercings on his ear. He’s got a total of three. He’s wearing a long-sleeve, flannel overshirt, so his tattoos are hidden from view, however you notice a small smiley tattoo peeking behind the shell of his ear.

And as he eagerly leads you through the home, asking in earnest about your day, practically skipping at your side, you’re endeared by him. He’s really cute.

The kick-back is mainly in the living room, although you did see a couple of people trickle in and out of the kitchen. Connie reels you over to the couch where a small group of friends are mingling.

“Guess who’s here in the flesh!” Connie calls their attention, squeezing your shoulder with excitement. He introduces you to each friend.

“Onyankopon,” Connie says.

You take the friendly man’s hand, recognizing him in at least one of Connie’s pictures. “Hi.”

He smiles. “Good to meet you. Connie’s been excited all night.”

“Has he?” You look to the man at your side.

Connie beams with an affirmative nod, and you breathe a laugh at that.

“Same here,” you say.

“That’s Sasha and that’s Yelena.” Connie points to two women, rolling up a spliff. “Sasha’s Niccolo’s sweetheart.” Connie lowers his voice to your ear, like it’s a secret. “And over here…”

You’re paraded around like a shiny, new toy, but you can tell it’s well-meaning. As for his friends, they’re all friendly, seizing a chance at small talk with you before Connie intervenes to introduce you to more people.

From the amount of guests, you met within the first hour, you gathered that Connie’s a popular guy, and it’s easy to see why.

He’s so friendly with everyone, eager to have you feel welcomed that you’re content just being there. But you’d be remiss to say that you didn’t want to see more of him in private.

“You’re really cute by the way,” Connie says as you both take a seat on the couch. “I told everyone that you were.”

“Thanks, Connie,” you say. “How do you know everyone?”

Sasha hands Connie the rolled spliff. He digs into the pocket of his jeans to light the end.

“Would you like a hit?” he asks. You let him know you’ll take one later, and he explains that he and Sasha have been friends since high school and that when she started dating Niccolo, he and Onyankopon needed a drummer for their band.

“We mainly play at bars for now,” Onyankopon supplies.

Connie nods after he takes a long pull. “Most of us work during the day so it works out best for us.”

“You ever date a musician before?” Sasha pipes up.

You look to Connie with a grin. “Never have.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky to have matched with Connie,” Niccolo laughs.

“I think so too,” you confirm, admiring Connie’s features. While not a typical date, you’re fine with the laid-back environment.

“Drummers are the best kinds to date.” Connie throws in. “We have the most energy, on and off the stage.” His brows wiggle.

The chemistry is so natural, it flows between you both.

“I want to witness more of the off-stage energy.”

Connie bites his lip, scooting closer.

Your knees bump. Connie stretches an arm, lacking any subtlety, a gesture ripped from a teen movie. He feigns a yawn, hand coming around, stopping short above your breast.

Without preamble, your hand slides into his thigh.

Connie stiffens, coughing up smoke into his elbow. The whole room watches him with amusement, and you snatch up the spliff to take a long pull.

“You good there, Connie?” you ask, innocuous, letting the smoke escape your lips in a stream.

Connie clears his throat. “Uh huh.”

Tilting your head, you give him a playful look. “You sure?”

“He’s got an erection,” Niccolo points out with a snort.

The others exchange humored looks but don’t tease poor Connie further.

You, on the other hand can’t help yourself, bringing the end of the spliff to Connie’s lips.

For a moment, he’s taken aback, still distracted with the frustration between his legs. When he notices you’ve leaned closer, he bites the end of the spliff, taking a drag, eyes glued to yours. You both smile, reading the others’ mind, inching closer together. You open your mouth to meet his, accepting the stream of smoke and the slide of Connie’s tongue.

It's soft, something you didn’t expect. For a moment, you’re lost in the feel of his lips, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, sampling each other’s taste. Your hand sinks deeper between his legs, brushing against a bulge tightening underneath his jeans the same time fingers trail downwards, ghosting your breast.

Someone clears their throat.

You and Connie freeze, open mouths awkwardly hovering each other’s, both turning.

Niccolò and Onyankopon share knowing looks, and it’s the former who shakes his head at Connie.

Connie pulls away suddenly, releasing a relaxed laugh. “Oh, um…” He reaches for your hand on his lap. “I…I wanted to show you something…”

Along with Niccolò and Onyankopon, you stifle your laughter at Connie’s attempt at being slick. But you humor him anyways.

“Oh, uh huh?”

Connie nods, getting to his feet, a grin splitting his mouth. “Yeah…it’s upstairs.” He tugs your hand.

This time you can’t hold back your amusement. “Okay, show me what it is upstairs.”

Connie’s smile broadens, squeezing your hand that your pulse hitches. He drags you off.

“Connie—please don’t make a mess—”

You hear Niccolo’s voice ring out, but there’s a tone of defeat there, and you throw a brief look over your shoulder as an apology ahead of time.

Upstairs, it’s quiet, not a soul around. Connie rushes towards the nearest door by the second-floor landing and enters like it’s somewhere he’s been many times before.

The door clicks shut, you and Connie are on each other, lips and teeth clashing, roaming hands like teenagers.

Clothes fall away in a tornado. Moans echo between breathless kisses.

Connie reels back first, hands on your shoulders. His gaze drags up and down your nude body.

“Shit.” He nods again more eagerly. “You’re really something. Fucking smoke show.”

You had taken the chance to admire his body as well. Strong, lean arms, muscles flexing with every movement, and you’re finally graced with a look of his mysterious tattoos on his arm.

They vary in size, but nothing too big. A magic eight-ball, a cassette tape, some odd, geometric shape, spaced around his shoulder. A spade, a melting ice cream cone, a drum—Hello Kitty...littered along his bicep.

Trailing your hands along it, you tilt your head, curious. “What’s the story behind this one?”

Connie hitches a laugh. “No real story just got it after a gig one night. Tattoo artist said she’d do it for free if I let her pick. Most of these I got at random.”

On his forearm, there’s a larger tattoo of a bull, detailed with a backdrop of a crescent moon and toadstools. “A bull?”

Connie hums. “Yeah, I’m a Taurus, and I like that zodiac stuff. Plus, I’m strong like a bull.” On cue, he flexes his forearm, and you feel the muscle tighten at your fingertips.

“I like it.” Your eyes drift from his arm to the rest of his body. A lean torso, rising and falling with quick breaths, a toned stomach that plunges into a deep V, his dick swings, happy, erect, and inviting.

You reach for it.

Connie bristles at the contact, grinning as you stroke the shaft. Together you watch his dick twitch as you brush the tip with your thumb.

“Ooohh, that’s the spot…” He shivers. “You’re gonna make me go apeshit before I get a chance to fuck you, huh?” Peering up, he wiggles his eyebrows, and you snort.

He’s so lighthearted, it’s refreshing. Of course, you don’t mind seduction, the mind fuck, or even shameless vulgarity. But sex should be fun too. Connie’s just eager to get laid, and you can’t fault him for being open and honest about that.

He steps closer, chasing after your touch for more stimulation. “Keep going. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for your pussy—respectfully.” He adds the last part with a grin.

And you continue to stroke him, hand moving in stride as he approaches you, taking your face in his hands.

Leaning his head down, he whispers into your lips. “You know how to make a guy feel…”

His tongue slides past, moving along yours in an uneven rhythm. You both laugh, trying again, but it remains sloppy and frivolous that you don’t complain.

He makes light of it with his everlasting humor. “Making out with someone new can be a little trial and error, but we improvise…” He groans again, lifting his chin, head thrown back.

You’ve picked up the pace, thumbing the tip of his dick with more pressure, precum dribbles into your fist. “Does this feel nice, Connie?”

“Real nice…your hand is so soft…”

You stroke him for another minute, exchanging more heated kisses. His hands travel to your chest, palming your breasts, and swirling his thumbs around your nipples.

You whimper, sensitive to the touch, inhaling Connie’s chuckle.

“Someone likes it when I do this, eh?” His thumbs move faster, orbiting your nipples. He pinches one, pleasure radiating to your center.

“Connie…”

He pulls away, taking your wrist to stop you. Most of the color in his eyes have been swallowed by his pupils. “I want to try something. Alright with you if we experiment?”

Your brows furrow. With the warm throb between your legs, however, you nod.

Connie’s smile brightens like a Christmas tree. With your wrist in his hand, he leads you to the bed.

You settle your knees onto the mattress, inwardly apologizing to Niccolo for what you and Connie are about to do.

Before he joins you on the bed, Connie’s eyes go blank. He spins around, crouching to fish through his discarded jeans. He pulls out a condom.

“Safety first. But if you want to raw-dog it…”

You smile, shaking your head. “Safety first.”

Connie’s quick with the condom, rolling it down his shaft and hopping on the bed, rolling back on his haunches. “Okay, this position I want to try out is a little unorthodox.”

You frown. “Go on…”

Connie falls back, catching himself on his elbows. He gestures you to come closer. “Now first, lay on top of me, on your back.”

Sliding over, your legs crawl atop his, your center dampening as you nudge his dick. Head nestled below his chin, you crane a look up. “Okay…”

“This is the unorthodox part.” Connie’s hands roam to your side, lifting you up. “I want you to hold yourself up on your arms with your back arched, kind of like you’re draping over me.”

You lift off his chest, but pause, trying to grasp what he wants you to do. Arched back? Draped? An image pops into your brain and you lift your body off Connie’s, arms rooting on either side of him. You bow your back in a backwards arch, head hanging.

“Like this?” You strain to say, arms trembling. He’s right this is an unorthodox position.

“Just like that. Now…I’m going to fuck into you this way. Okay?”

“Uh…okay.”

The bedsheets rustle beneath you, fingers tickling your sides, you almost fall.

“Whoa, I got you.” Connie’s hands stabilize you. “Alright. You look fucking great like this by the way.”

The drag of his dick along your pussy catches you off guard. You flinch a little, hips bucking up.

“Baby don’t run from it.” Connie’s whine softens with laughter. “It just needs a special kind of hug…” A nudge punctuates along your folds.

You smile up at the ceiling, steadying your legs to give Connie better access. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Connie lines up again, hands grasping onto your ribcage. “It’ll feel good, scout’s honor!”

His dick rubs along your pussy, gathering the slick drooling down your thighs. He grunts beneath you, the tip of his dick twitches, and you know he can’t stave off for much longer. To be fair, neither can you, not in the position he has you in.

Connie manages to hold you up without so much strain, you’re unable to hold back your surprise. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had the strength of a bull.

“You’re really strong.”

You catch the hearty, earnest laugh behind you, shivering from the tip of his dick lining up with your entrance.

“Thanks! If you’re impressed with that, baby, you’ll love my stamina. You ready?”

Although your head hangs backwards, you manage a meager nod. “Uh huh.”

Connie lifts his hips up, pushing into your pussy in a slow, deep stroke.

It’s an odd feeling, like you’ve gotten impaled, but you like it… And because you can’t watch his dick go in, you focus on the sensation of being filled. He pulls out and repeats the action, a gradual build for you to acclimate to this position.

“What do you think of that, eh?”

Eyes trained on the ceiling, you wish you could get a better look at Connie’s face, laughing at the humor in his voice, his playful spunk turning you on more than you imagined it would.

“It’s a new angle for me, Connie,” you grunt when he thrusts deeper. “Time to show off that stamina.”

Hands dig into the arch of your back to keep you steady. “Say less, beautiful!”

He thrusts up, hips smacking against your ass.

You feel him deeper, fucking into you with stride, projecting a low moan to fall with your head thrown back. Blood rushes to your head, but you don’t notice the discomfort, pussy throbbing, fluttering around Connie’s dick.

“Shiiiiiiiit—you feel fucking—wonderful—” Connie grunts between each snap of his hips. “So warm—so tight—”

His hips clap against your ass, bouncing off the walls. You arch your back further, adjusting your position a bit to lower yourself to Connie’s cock without seating on him entirely.

“Ooooooh! Even better!” Connie rasps, picking up the pace.

His grip tightens at your sides with bruising pressure, but you don’t mind it, relishing in the way his cock drives deeper into you; the tip prodding the spongy spot inside.

You shut your eyes, only aware of the way Connie fucks into you over and over again, sparks of pleasure burning warmer with each thrust.

“Fuck…Connie…” Your moan is heavy with passion. Goosebumps prick your scorching skin as you feel your body foreshadowing your release.

“Ha—I’m loving this too, baby.”

Your thighs spread apart, wanting to pull him in more if it’s possible. Oh! From the way your pussy flutters around Connie’s dick, it’s very possible.

You wonder if you look as sexy as you feel. Hardened nipples facing the ceiling, back bowed in a deep arch, flexing the column of your throat, every gasp falling out like a waterfall. It’s amazing what shapes the body can take, enticing to know the various positions that offer pleasure.

Connie makes good on that stamina. The momentum builds and you want it to last for as long as possible, despite the dizziness in your head. For a while, you don’t notice anything except Connie fucking into you, the fullness of his length stretching you out. Every muscle in your body works to keep you steady, but you tend to skip arm day at the gym, therefore you’re not that strong. Your arms tremble. You claw at the sheets to help anchor you in place.

“Feeling sore?” Connie rasps.

“A little, my arms are getting tired.”

Connie offers you a solution. “It’s okay, let yourself fall to my chest—I’ll take care of the rest.” He continues to fuck you while you decide.

“Ah—are you—sure?” Words strain in your throat.

“Yeah, yeah,” he breathes. “Lay on my chest, I got you, it’ll feel just as good.”

You don’t hesitate, one wobbly arm after the other, your back lands on Connie’s chest, resting your head on his shoulder. Your muscles go lax in relief.

Connie kisses your sweaty temple, snaking his arms around you. He lines his dick against your folds again, pushing back inside in a deep thrust.

Connie gropes your breast, thumb swiping against the hardened nipple.

You inhale, chest ballooning.

The stimulation does not end there. Connie’s other hand finds your apex, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks into you.

“See, told you I’d take care of the rest,” Connie breathes into your hairline, voice ragged.

“Connie…don’t stop.” You wrap your hand around his, urging him to rub your clit faster.

He gets the hint, and your climax is close, so close, you grab onto Connie’s arm at your chest, driving your nails into his skin.

Laughter rumbles in Connie’s chest. “Someone’s almost there, huh? Fuck—me too.” His hips snap up, desperate.

“Connie—I’m gonna—” You throw your head back, cutting yourself short, pulsing and cumming on Connie’s cock.

“Shit, that was fucking hot.” Connie hugs you to his chest, fucking into you with more purpose. “I’m about to nut—your pussy feels so fucking good.”

His sloppy rhythm becomes pointed with quick, sharp bucks of his hips. You hear the deep moan pouring out of his mouth, he lifts your bodies off the mattress, wanting to reach the heavens as he orgasms.

The room falls quiet, save for the heavy breathing against your ear. Connie’s dick stutters inside of you and you both stay like that for a moment. Your back glued to his sticky chest, ass and pussy held in the air by Connie’s hips.

When his cock softens, he slips out, a pair of hips collapses onto poor Niccolò’s bed.

Connie blows out a sigh, warm breath fanning your hair. “Shit…oh shit…” He swallows, rubbing his hands along your arms lazily. “That was hella fun. What’d you think, beautiful? If you liked that, I have another position we can try out.”

You heave a tired laugh, but you’re not against the idea. Maybe another time.

☻ masterpost☻

taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #connie springer x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #connie springer x you #dtf only series #mochi-writings

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

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𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

summary: You cancel on your plans to hang out with your crush, Eddie, and your friends when you realize your competition for his affections will also be there. So, naturally, Eddie comes to you.

warnings: misunderstandings, little bit of hurt, little bit of angst, a lot of fluff and a lot of comforting,

a/n: little companion piece to In My Dreams. inspired by Hozier’s song Would That I, my re-watching of grey’s anatomy, my love for Lexie Grey who heavily inspires Reader’s personality in this, and that confession. for creative purposes we’re gonna pretend Halloween 5 came out before 1986, Eddie got held back like twice maximum, and everyone is alive/lives in Hawkins because this is an ideal world. probably won’t be able to post much in the coming weeks so enjoy and let me know what you think (don’t be a jerk)! mistakes will be fixed later.

You open the sliding door of the shower with a sigh, arm curling around your body at the slight temperature change as you yank the towel off the bathroom counter where you had set it and wrap it around your body, quickly drying off your limbs. Once you’re dry enough, you step out of the shower, towel now wrapped around your body as you grab a clean t-shirt to wrap around your drenched hair.

You swipe the condensation from the steam off the mirror, staring at your bare, disappointed face before the steam fogs it up again.

Your body heaves out another sigh as you prepare to go through your routine in a failed attempt to not think about all the fun your friends are having without you at that very moment.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t invited you, because they had. Heather had come bounding up to you during break on Tuesday to tell you about the group’s plans to hang out on Friday night, go to the mall, head to the movies then grab a bite to eat and probably hang out at someone’s house. You’d agreed immediately, loving nothing more than spending time with your friends. But then you had found out two things that had certainly rained on your parade before it even started:

1.) Roxy Campbell was going. Heather knew how much you two didn’t get along (a dislike that had been mutual since elementary school but had only spiked in animosity in recent years) and had hurriedly explained that it hadn’t been her that extended the invitation to Roxy, which lead you to reason number two.

2.) Chrissy Cunningham would be there. There wasn’t any bad blood between you and Chrissy, far from actually. You didn’t interact with her too much, she was more Heather’s friend than yours (and you sometimes wondered about that, they often cuddled up during big sleepovers, and disappeared at gatherings) but the common factor between Roxy, Chrissy and you was the real problem.

See, you wouldn’t have a problem being in the same place as Roxy on her own, and same goes for Chrissy, but together, they would just be too much for your insecurity, because Eddie was going.

You’d had a crush on Eddie since the fourth grade (he’d been a couple of grades ahead of you at the time, but now he was attainable, or you had thought he was) but it was when Heather had sucked you into their rag tag group consisting of a bunch of social misfits (Steve, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Barb, Robin, Eden, Eddie and a partridge in a pear tree) during junior year that you actually fell in love with him.

He’d been the one you had bonded with the most, you had almost nothing in common—but it didn’t seem to matter because he made you feel like you mattered. He made you feel seen when you thought you were invisible, made you feel heard when you thought no one was listening, and you just. . .you really loved the way he made you feel.

And you were stupid enough to love him. Stupid enough to love his long curls, his smile (the crazed one was a favorite of yours, but it was topped by the shy one he’d always exchange with you when it was just the two of you in your own world—regardless of your friends surrounding you, or when you were in class and you’d turn in your seat to look back at Eddie and he’d already be watching you, he’d give you that same, beautiful smile), the way he’d doodle silly little things all over his hands (and you could go super into depth about your admiration for those hands), how he resembled a Gremlin when he ate, how he couldn’t seem to sit like a normal person in most public settings unless he was mentally exhausted, his dramatics and the stupid faces he’d make, the way he’d bark at Tommy H. when the jerk dared to try and approach Steve or if he was simply annoying Eddie, how much time and effort he put into campaigns, how he never seemed to get mad during the rare campaigns in which the Hellfire Club managed to breeze right through his monsters, mazes, and obstacles. You could go on forever and that was the problem.

Roxy started liking Eddie right around the time you fell in love with him—because she always has to have whatever you want—and Chrissy was the last girl you were aware he’d had a crush on. A crush he’d had since the seventh grade. Given the current strength of your feelings for a crush you’d had for far longer, you didn’t have any hopes that he’d moved on, since you—ya know hadn’t. Roxy didn’t really intimidate you, but if you were sandwiched between the two girls—or worse, if Eddie was, you’d be forced to watch either another girl flirt with him or watch him flirt with another girl. Both of those options sounded terrible to you and you were positive you’d just end up with a stomach ache that had you nearly bedridden like you always did when it came to heartbreak.

After three days of debating, you’d called Heather before you were all supposed to meet up at the mall and had used your mom not letting you go out because you had chores to do as an excuse. Your mom wouldn’t have appreciated being made the villain but they had all seen you looking perfectly fine at school only a couple of hours earlier, meaning you couldn’t play sick, so she’d just have to take one for the team.

Heather had sounded disappointed but understood and told you she’d let the rest of the group know.

Then you proceeded to have a breakdown, you’d cried and cried, crawled into your shower, cried so much and let the reality of not ever being able to love Eddie and be loved by him crash down on you, your chances of being the reason he smiles and feels loved circle the drain before washing away as your body shook with your sobs. At one point you had thought you might suffocate with it all, but you hadn’t. Once the hot water had begun to lower in temperature, you forced yourself to get up and get yourself together. Eddie should be able to be happy with whoever he wanted and if you were really his friend, you would have to be happy for him and stop feeling sorry for yourself.

So, here you were. All alone on a Friday night while the rest of the teenagers in Hawkins got to be, well, teenagers.

You try cheering yourself up by doing a full body shave since you have the time, moisturizing heavily with sweet smelling lotion, shaping your eyebrows, doing a ton of face masks—you may be feeling pathetic but your skin sure wasn’t—and painting your nails and toes. You’d gone with a metallic green this time in an effort to be daring. You even put your earrings back in, just to feel a little less naked.

Once the polish is dry and you have done all the self-care you can think of, you’re left with nothing to do and no one to keep you company. Even your mind is quiet and your thoughts are whispers, if anything. They’re not nice whispers, so you decide to watch a movie. You throw on one of your comfy sweaters and a pair of boy shorts before running downstairs to sort through the rentals your family still has. Normally, you wouldn’t go running out in your underwear regardless of how similar to shorts they appear, but even your parents had plans tonight, Fridays were date night. They’d come home sometime after 2 am, giggling and so in love as they tiptoed—incredibly loudly, somehow—past your room to try and not wake you up while you listened to them trip and stumble down the hall because you couldn’t help but like to listen and imagine it being you and Eddie one day; drunk, in love and without a care in the world because you’d have each other and maybe a slightly sleep deprived teenage daughter.

The movie selections aren’t too vast, most of yours had been returned on Wednesday—WAIT, SCORE!

You admire the VHS cover of The Last Unicorn with a smile before tucking it under your arm and disconnecting the VCR from the TV in the living room. You carry the bulky thing and its wires up to your room, quickly setting it up to your smaller tv and popping the tape in. While the previews play, you pull the soaked t-shirt off your head, your hair is still damp but as you look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, you can’t help but smile. Your face is glowing, you smell amazing, you hair—while still somewhat wet—looks promising to dry and set satisfactory. Hell, the damp look is working for you on its own. With a smile on your face, you feel and look beautiful.

The t-shirt is tossed into your hamper and you dig out a couple of your favorite snacks from your hoarding place under your bed before you settle on top of it, belly down and your comfiest pillow under your chin as the movie begins.

The movie is comforting and provides you a sense of nostalgia, though it hadn’t come out too long ago. You chalk it up to its dated terms and the general setting of it.

You’re completely invested in it, mind filled with nothing but commentary. You’re wondering why the animators made Celaeno the Harpy’s three titties so big and bouncy when the sound of knuckles rapping on your window surprises you. You push yourself up on your arms, craning your head to look even though you have an inkling who it is, the only person to regularly visit you via window pane.

Sure enough, Eddie is grinning at you from the other side, gesturing down to your window locks. You hadn’t been expecting him so you’d left it secured. It was only a little past 8 pm and hang outs nearly went on to 1 am, why wasn’t he with everyone else?

You move your snacks aside and abandon your pillow in favor of climbing off your bed to pause the movie before you make your way over, unlocking and opening the window for him.

“FINALLY!” Eddie grunts out as he tumbles in, rolling a little ways away before he jumps up and stretches his arms out so high he’s almost touching your ceiling. You roll your eyes, a small laugh slipping past your lips as your fondness for the silly boy quickly rises to the surface.

“Oh, quit it, you faker. You weren’t out there that long.”

Eddie scowls at you, eyes narrowed playfully. He won’t bother telling you that he’d been there for ten minutes (after he’d struggled to get on the roof for the same amount of time, Jesus H. Christ, it never got easier scaling your home, but he’d be damned if he stopped doing it, it was romantic and he was in the middle of wooing) watching you in a non-creepy manner, you’d looked so beautiful and peaceful; he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you or even consider making you aware of his presence until the overwhelming urge to hold you had taken over. He didn’t know if he’d finally be able to work up the courage to do so but the distance between you, and the physical separation started to give him anxiety so he’d knocked.

“You still took your sweet time getting off your butt to let me in,” Eddie teases as he makes himself comfortable, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket to hang on your desk chair. He even takes the chain off of his jeans, tucking it into one of the jacket pockets.

“I wasn’t expecting you!” You throw your hands up in defeat after you shut the window again.

Eddie’s grin turns sly, “Did I surprise you, kid?”

Now it’s your turn to narrow your eyes at him, because you know he doesn’t have the audacity to bring this up again. “Do. Not. Start.”

“It’s just pretty interesting for a guy whom you referred to as predictable today, at 10:06 in Mr. Bellow’s class, to surprise you in a manner that is evidently not so predictable.” He’s smug, so very smug as he crosses his arms and smirks.

You groan, though there’s no annoyance to it, in fact—you’re fighting off a smile. If you smile, he wins and that’s what he wants. You can’t give him that, it's the little teasing game you have going on. You will not break.

“You accuse me of holding onto grudges─”

“Because you do.”

“—yet here you are, bringing up something from the past!”

“It happened today!”

“Yeah, earlier today, as in not right now, meaning the past. Besides, I wasn't wrong. You always climb up to my window and you always try to be unexpected, so really, this was very much so an Eddie thing to do and I am—in fact—correct about you being predictable.” You state as you make your way back to your bed, climbing back on top and folding your legs criss cross style.

Eddie stares at you from where he’s standing, amusement clear in those big beautiful, Bambi eyes of his. The smirk is still there, but it’s not so sly or smug anymore, more gentle and you can tell he’s trying to not let it break into a grin but he’s smiling, nonetheless, so you win. And he knows it.

He shakes his head, turning to look at your poster and art covered walls so you can’t see just how big his grin is. When he finally composes himself, his body is relaxed, arms dropping to dangle by his sides as he stalks towards your bed.

“You’re delusional.”

“Am I wrong, though?” You beam up at him and he can’t say no to you, ever.

With a heavy sigh, he drops his weight onto your bed, falling onto his back. Your poor snacks go tumbling but you don’t care, leaning an elbow on your knee as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand while you peer down at him.

“No. What are we watching?”

“You didn’t answer my earlier question.”

“You didn’t ask a question.” You know he knows what you’re referring to.

“I could smother you right now.”

“Mm, but you won’t.”

You drop your hand from your chin to dart forward and tickle his side. Eddie yelps, letting out a loud laugh as he tries to wrangle your hand in his, securing your wrist in his grasp.

“Okay! Okay! Fine, what’s your question?”

“Why aren’t you with everyone else?” You exclaim, in your rush of adrenaline, rather than ask.

Eddie answers like it’s the most simple question in the world, blinking up at you as though the answer should have been obvious to you, “Because you’re not there.”

Your brows furrow, a confused smile crossing your lips and Eddie wants to lean up and kiss the spot between your eyebrows to ease them. You smell so good, too. He just wants to bury his face in your neck, your hair, suffocate himself with you ‘til his lungs refuse oxygen in favor of needing you to breathe.

“I’m hardly the life of the party, Eddie.”

Not when Roxy and Chrissy are around, you think to yourself. If you’re being honest, Chrissy seems more fun than Roxy, and so are you. Anyone is better than Roxy. You can’t help but briefly wonder how Roxy can be friends, acquaintances, whatever, with Chrissy—not that there’s anything wrong with the sweet blonde—but if it was obvious to you that Eddie liked Chrissy, it should have been obvious to Roxy. Roxy loathed you even more than she had before for being friends with Eddie, you figured she’d hate Chrissy since she was the object of his affections.

“You’re spacing’ out on me, kid.” You’re literally shaken from your thoughts when Eddie puts his giant freaking hand on the top of your damp head, giving it a gentle shake. He laughs at your expression when you swat his hand away.

“Sorry, was just thinking about something. Did you say something?”

“I said you’re the life of my party,” Eddie repeats, trying to maintain his cool, despite how fast his heart was racing. He’d do that a lot, drop little hints to see if you picked up on them with hopes you would. Then, he’d have the perfect opportunity to finally tell you how he feels; like how his heart had just about dropped out of his ass when Heather had come on her own and told them you wouldn’t be joining them. He’d been sullen and mostly quiet as they walked through the mall. Steve and Argyle had tried to cheer him up, but it was useless. Chrissy had even tried to strike up a conversation but he couldn’t think about anything but you, so that had dropped pretty fast and he was sure he’d come off as rude, only he couldn’t care right then but he’d apologize next week at school.

Eddie couldn’t even recall what movie they had ended up watching. Even if he had been trying to pay attention, Roxy was constantly trying to talk to him during the movie so he wouldn’t have been able to hear it anyways. The entire time he was trying to think of why you hadn’t shown up. Heather had mentioned something about your mom, but Eddie knew your parents had date nights on Fridays so you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted. Were you sick? On your period? Suffering? And here he was, albeit not having an even decent time, hanging out with his friends when he could have been comforting you or just with you. He left before the movie hit the halfway point.

“Coolest person I know, kid.”

You smile, sinking back into your shoulders shyly, you may not have been the apple of his eye, but you were still cool in his, “Thanks, Eddie. You’re the coolest person I know, too. Maybe even the best person I know, in general. Don’t tell Robin or Eden I said that.”

Eddie chuckles, still hyper aware of your wrist in his hand, if he plays this right he could just slide it up ‘til he’s palm to palm with you and intertwine your fing─

“The Last Unicorn,” You announce, finally answering his question as you sit up only to lean back into your pillows, pulling your wrist out of his hold just as Eddie had been about to trail his hand higher. You pat the spot next to you as you pull your knees to your chest. “We lost the remote so you’ll have to go press ‘play’.”

“Oh, I’ll have to go press ‘play’, huh?” His amusement is back as he shifts onto his side to face you.

“Mhm,” You nod innocently, placing your finger on the tip of your nose. “Nose goes.”

He stares at you, incredulous, before he reluctantly pushes himself up even though you both know he would have done it regardless.

“That stupid game doesn’t even make sense, if it’s gonna be called ‘Nose Goes’ shouldn’t the first person that touches their nose fucking go?” He grumbles as he presses the button on the VCR before climbing onto the bed, making himself comfy next to you as the movie resumes.

You shush him, eyes fixated on the screen again, on Celaeno, “Look at her boobies.”

Eddie does as you say, guffawing once he notices. He’s more amused with your thought process than he is with the harpy, for obvious reasons. One being that he’s in love with you and how cute you are and the other being that the harpy is far from appealing to look at.

“Wait, does she have three tits?”

“Yeah.”

“Why, though?”

“Because Harpies have three titties, I don’t know, Eddie, I didn’t make the movie.”

“Well, like—does she need the extra one?” He never noticed it before.

“I don’t know, I’m more concerned about how human they look. I get that harpies are kinda supposed to look a little human, but she’s really fugly and not at all human in appearance. They really gave her three human boobs and called it a day. Could have at least given her a human head or some hair but no.”

Eddie’s focused on you, watching you from the corners of his eyes as you rant. One of the things that had broken the awkwardness when you first met was your love of fantasy. You weren’t as obvious about it as he was with his, but he’d seen you reading your copy of The Sword in the Stone after you’d finished a test early, in the English class he shared with you, right before the end of your sophomore year. He’d spent the whole summer wondering about you and he’d been grateful when Heather had been inducted in the group, bringing you with her in the fall. When he failed, he’d been bummed but knowing he got to spend more time with you, learn more about you eased the ache. Falling in love with you had just about healed it completely, and with your encouragement, he was on track to graduate alongside you this year.

When Eddie doesn’t respond, you turn your head to him, raising your brows when you notice his gaze is fixed on you, “You okay, Eddie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, kid.”

He really is, he’s thinking about all the things he loves about you. How animated you get when you’re excited about something, the way you get all shy when you realize just how excited you’d been, how optimistic you were even when you were having the worst of days—you never lashed out at anyone because of it, how you always put others first (you always claimed to be selfish but the moment you realized you could help someone instead of yourself, you did it), how forgiving you were (Steve had been somewhat of a jerk to you when he was still King Steve but the moment you realized he was genuine in his redemption, you never brought it up and always made sure to mention how he’s grown as a person when someone else brings it up and yeah, Eddie was a little jealous about that). How unapologetically yourself you were, silliness and all (like how you’d gone as Jamie Lloyd in her clown costume with the red nose and mask, from the Halloween movie while everyone else was dressed as provocative as possible for Zoe’s halloween party—and then you’d gone to Tina’s party as an angel with very little covering you up, because you could do both, and Eddie had to spend the entire night hiding an erection). Or how you made the wall flower kids, that Steve and the others sometimes couldn’t see needed attention, feel seen; Lucas, Will and Jane loved it when you came around. They always referred to you and Jonathan as their play parents and yes, Eddie got incredibly jealous with that, too.

And then there was the way you made Eddie feel. Despite his growing friendships, he had still felt a sense of loneliness, still needed his alone time because they overwhelmed him a bit. But not you. You snuck up on him, came into his life so quietly you hadn’t disturbed any of the foundation he’d built around himself to keep the world away, yet still somehow ended up on the same side of the wall with him. When his head got loud, you were there to hush all the thoughts, bringing him a sense of peace. He hardly had to even defend himself to verbal lashings anymore because you were putting whoever it was in their place without even being mean about it, which made him feel like people really were just messing with him to be jerks, like he wasn’t actually a freak. You made him feel like they were the problem, not him. When you looked at him, he felt like you were actually seeing him. Not Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, not the frontman to a band everyone thought was going nowhere, not some high school repeat, not some drug dealer, not trailer trash, just Eddie.

God, and the way you said his name! You’d beam, sit up straighter while you flashed him that beautiful smile and Eddie felt like he somehow lit up the room for you, despite you already being the brightest thing in any room.

He’d had crushes before, on Chrissy Cunningham, on Ally Citronni, Tammy Thompson—she talked to him, okay? He was lucky if a girl didn’t walk away giggling with her friends and not in the ‘I just talked to a cute boy’ way and she was a nice girl—even the fucking counselor and yeah, he’d had one on you, had expected it to go away like it had with the others, but it hadn’t. Instead, it blossomed into something so intense he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t fucking sleep, he couldn’t think about anything that wasn’t related to you.

Love on the fucking brain.

He’d even been forced to talk to Wayne about you when Tommy H. had asked you out in an attempt to make Carol jealous during one of their break ups. Even though you’d flat out said no, it had been a reality check for Eddie. Someone could easily just steal you away. Eddie hadn’t been able to sleep right for a week, and he hadn’t even touched his guitars, prompting an Uncle Wayne intervention, that conversation led him here. And all of the other times he’d tried—failed—to tell you how he felt.

You went back to watching the movie, but not Eddie. He was ready for this, fuck the hints.

“I’m glad I’m not in this movie cause I would have started sprinting, then she’d kil─”

Eddie had placed a finger on the side of your chin, directing your face to his instead of the TV while you had been talking and you hadn’t been able to drag your eyes away from the action on screen but that didn’t stop him from kissing you, lips pressing firmly against yours.

That caught your attention.

Your eyes widen as you realize what’s happening and when it becomes clear Eddie won’t be pulling away, you melt into him, eyelids fluttering shut while you return the kiss with the same amount of fervor. The rest of his hand comes to cradle your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as he licks at your lips. They part for him almost instantly and he moans at the first taste of you, tongue swiping against yours.

Eddie dominates the kiss and you’re helpless to do anything but respond as he explores your mouth, licking any chance of coherency right off your tongue. His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him, onto his lap and you can’t quite believe that he’s cradling you like this, as though you were something important to him. You can’t even believe he’s kissing you, let alone this thoroughly!

When Eddie finally—and very reluctantly—pulls away, there’s a string of spittle connecting your lips. You lick it up and Eddie nearly creams his pants right there.

You stare up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable as Eddie leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, thumb still stroking your cheek.

“I love you, kid. I’m in love with you. Messed me up the moment Heather dragged you over to the lunch table and you wouldn’t let go of the seat you’d been sitting on at your old table. Had a feeling it’d be you, I hoped it would.” He confesses, voice gentle and nearly a whisper into the charged air between the two of you.

You want to cry the happiest of tears as you finally confess during a moment you genuinely thought wouldn’t come, not after the circumstances of how the night had started for you, “I love you so much, Eddie. You’re all I think about; I can’t sleep, I-I can’t eat and when I didn’t think you could love me I couldn’t breathe. I love you, I love you so much and I wanted to tell you, I did but I was so scared you wouldn’t love me and I’d ruin it all but I do! I love you.”

Eddie’s on you in an instant, lips insistent against yours and you can’t help the few tears that slip out but Eddie’s quick to wipe them away, trying to convey just how much he loves you with his kisses. When he pulls away again, he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ve tried to tell you so many times, baby. I just—I fucking suck. That’s it,” the way Eddie says it makes you laugh and he smiles at the sound, leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips. “I fucking suck. I have loved you for so long, and I should have told you a long ass time ago, a fucking year ago. You really are the life of my party—love of my life, actually. You’re it for me, like—fuck.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, but you can be patient now, you’re willing to wait for him forever.

When he speaks again, the playful edge is gone, “I want to marry you.”

Your breath hitches along with your heartbeat and Eddie continues, “Not yet, not while we’re in school, but I’m positive I want to marry you. Hell, if I didn’t think I’d distract the shit out of you, I’d carry you to the courthouse right now—don’t be a smart ass, I know what you’re gonna say and I’m very aware they’re not open right now—but I’d sit there and wait. That’s how sure I am. So when we’re ready, when you’re ready, if you’ll have me, I’m gonna marry you. But for now, would you—I don’t know, wanna be my girlfriend?”

You yank him down for another kiss, multiple before you’re pressing them all over his face and you’re sure he’s smiling, can feel his cheeks pull up when your lips pass over them.

“Yes, yes I want to marry you someday and yes, I want to be your girlfriend. I want you, Eddie, and I’ll take you anyway I can have you.”

Eddie pulls you even further to him, something you didn’t think was possible, as he hugs you, the hand on your cheek traveling up to cradle the back of your head.

You can’t see his face in this position, your face is pretty much pressed into the crook of his neck, but you’re sure he’s crying, can feel the wetness on the side of your forehead.

Your arms wrap around his middle, inching the fabric of his shirt up so your fingers can press into his back. Despite the seriousness of your conversation, Eddie lurches forward into the bed and you squeal as you go with him, back meeting your blankets.

“Eddie!” You’re pinned underneath him, and Eddie has no plans on moving.

“Hm?”

“Get off!”

“You just told me you’ll have me any way you want me and now you want me off of you? I am all for the chase, baby, but you really gotta make up your mind.”

“Ugh,” you groan, admitting defeat as your arms wrap around him once more to hold him and he lets out a content sigh, nose nudging your head. You turn your head in the direction and he presses another sweet kiss to your lips before nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I’m gonna run down the halls on monday and tell everyone you’re my girlfriend.”

“How predictable of you.”

“Kid, I swear to God.”

You and Eddie will have to save The Last Unicorn and the harpy with three boobs for another time, too swept up in each other to pay it any mind.

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shieldofiron · 7 days

Text

When I first joined this fandom in late 2022, I had some traction with some stories. And some people reached out to see if I wanted to join a discord server that was owned by a person who at the time had over 1000 followers and posted quite frequently. She was popular, though she presented herself as much more popular than she was. Let’s call her Z.

I did not connect with everyone there, in fact I was uncomfortable for reasons I will go into in a moment, but there were some people I really did connect with, and I stayed to be close to them. And then one day, my closest friend there was kicked out of the space with little to no explanation. He begged the mods and Z, formerly his close friends, and was blocked. I combed the server, but I couldn’t find anything that he did that in my opinion was worth kicking him out. Then he began losing followers and receiving many hurtful and upsetting anons on his tumblr. Angry, because I suspected they had something to do with it, I stopped posting in there and later left. I was disgusted that this was going on and they were acting to my face like it wasn’t, and still sucking up to me about my stories. He said he was worried about me believing him, believing that whatever he did, he didn’t understand what it was. But having witnessed Z’s behavior in her server I had no problem believing it was her and her friends.

Z used to find fanfiction or art of ships that she didn’t like, and @ everyone in the server to come look at it, despite knowing it was extremely distressing for some members. If you protested that you had no issue with these ships in fiction but that maybe you didn’t want to see that on a Tuesday at work in the general chat, Z and her closest friends would harass you (me) to say that it was bad, and evil. She often called for people to unfollow these artists, or block users who she had found and showed to us without any participation on our part. Despite this she frequently became interested in dead dove subject matter, but it was always ok when she did it. Boundaries did not exist to her, except for the boundaries of her taste and how she thought the world should be. Z would routinely make jokes about sensitive subjects like trans rights, and let's just say it felt like it wasn’t her place. But don’t worry, Z would say, I have friends who are [joke she had made] [from country she had insulted] so it’s fine. There’s only so many times you can hear a joke like that and not wonder why it’s being made over and over. If you were offended, everything was a joke, or there was something you didn’t understand.

This server was a deeply uncomfortable space. Many times I felt harassed over my politics, over my opinions in fiction, and it was often easier to just swallow this. When I met my friends there, they showed courage standing up for themselves and I am so glad that I found them. With them, my experiences of this fandom lightened enormously. Z and her friends had made me so paralyzed, paranoid and unhappy. I had been afraid to even talk about my race however tangentially. I was afraid to make posts against anti behavior, because they had so twisted the way I thought the Billy fandom would perceive them. Thankfully I do not think that the majority of the fandom agrees with her views.

Z apparently has been presenting harassing my friend as a misunderstanding. Perhaps the misunderstanding is that she thinks any of this is harmless. Misunderstandings can be overcome, discussed, apologized for. If someone is confused, you can explain, you can be civil. There was no discussion.

Z made no effort, except to further talk about him and others behind their backs. She never reached out to clear anything up at any time. Her excuses when she made them were frankly shocking. And she never explained to me why my friend was so dangerous, but hid behind fake apologies and more popular friends, lying to my face like things were all good. My friend made a post when he felt safe with her username and the username of another person who harassed him. My friends that I kept from that server are the bravest people I know who understand that reputation means nothing if you can’t look at your own actions with conviction. And Z went away for a time.

Until I earlier this year, I was invited to a very large Billy server. Immediately I was confused by a user I had seemingly never seen before who had me blocked. It was Z, with a new name. She had me blocked until she saw me interacting positively with a very popular artist. Then I somehow became unblocked. Which was very interesting. I came to find that she was very close friends with them or tried to be. She appeared to be very close with the owner of the server too.

I was obviously wary but who knows. People can change. I really believe that. Unfortunately I do not believe that she has changed yet.

All of her old behavior was back as was my paranoia and fear. And it appeared that, emboldened by her friendship with the owner of the server and others, she felt safe going even further. Here was finally what she had craved, a large platform and popularity to continue her previous behavior. I later came to find out that the owner of the server had her own issues with bullying others, twisting the truth, and other, much more serious things. They showed the same character that Z always did, sweet to my face and sour behind everyone’s back. Yet again people said that they worried they wouldn’t be believed. They were afraid of the fandom famous people who were their friends.

Perhaps it’s just me, but if I had been called out in the past for bullying a trans person online I would distance myself from any appearance of transphobia or bullying or lying. Not Z. She in fact announced that she would bully the mods and “everyone” in the server when people joined. I am not paraphrasing, she said he was a bully so often that it was almost comical. She openly said she was an anti when someone confronted her over AGAIN trying to publicly shame authors and create mass unfollowing campaigns. There were no or minimal consequences for this. She would casually bring up the same old jokes and dogwhistles that she used to, uglier with time, and to me pathetically stripped of anything that could have excuse them.

Nobody told me these things. I saw it with my own eyes. But still, somehow, she was the hero, the popular beloved person in every story. I was afraid because she had very powerful friends. Or at least she pretended she did. Because she was friends with a server owner who hurt people I cared about. I am still afraid now. But I’d rather do it afraid for my friends than watch this happen.

I would give up every stupid note on every stupid meme if it meant trans people, and all vulnerable people, felt safe in fandom spaces. I am tired of dishonest communication and trying to play some stupid game I never fucking cared about. If some popular person wants to crush me like a grape for believing my friends, they can go ahead and do it already.

Everybody wants to be liked, everybody wants to be believed. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked. But I’m done waiting for people to believe me or like me. I’m done waiting for people to wake up and take a look in the mirror. To explain and to deign themselves to listen. I believe in my friends. I believe my eyes, and I believe in my own convictions. That’s enough for me.

I believe people can change. I hope they do. But I hope they do away from vulnerable people who they can hurt carelessly.

I’m not blocking you. Clean up your own mess.

#fandom wank #but is it tho #harringrove #fandom discourse #applewillowstone #flashwaves #harringrovepolls

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

Note

angst: nat cheats on reader… reader sees nat move on with her new lover

Broken Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Things haven’t been the same for you since the snap. Natasha grew more distant by the day with no excuses, leaving you to question your worth to her.

AC: Let’s pretend this was posted on Tuesday, thank you! Enjoy!! X

Since you started dating Natasha you never ever thought you'd be standing in front of her right now asking her this question. From the start Natasha has always made you feel on top of the world, never letting you doubt yourself or allow those horrible thoughts you have about yourself to take over your spirit.

She never failed to make you feel truly loved, cared for and wanted. Whenever you were sick, she was there with a warm tea or running you a warm shower, whenever you were having one of your bad days, she reminded you how important you were to her and would hold you close while you cried in her arms. Natasha truly was the person who made your heart skip a beat, the one who warmed your cheeks up whenever she'd wrap her arms around you, the one who helped build hope within you when she'd tell you how beautiful and smart you were.

So why was it, with all these wonderful things, you were questioning her intentions?

After the snap, something in Natasha changed. She could come home later, she'd be gone before you woke up in the morning, she'd barely touch you, kiss you or talk to you, sometimes she'd made the effort to leave the room the moment you walked in. At first you let her behavior slide knowing she was most likely still grieving for her best friend, Clint. But as the weeks went on, she grew more and more distant and eventually you were living in the shared apartment alone.

"Nat, please…talk to me…" you begged with teary eyes. She couldn't look at you, her eyes stay glued to the tips of your shoes. "Did I do something to make you upset? Did something happen that I don't know about?" you asked. Natasha's jaw clenched at your last question, "what is it? What don't I know?"

"Y/n, just drop it. I've told you, things are the compound are just a lot right now" Natasha's eyes finally looking at yours for a couple of short lived seconds.

"I can't" you shook your head lightly, "I just want to know the truth Nat…" you added.

"The truth? You don't believe me? Do you know how much bullshit we had to do since the snap? Since Thanos? You know, not everything is about you right now." She snapped, her brows frowning.

The built-up tears in your eyes finally falling as you confront her with your suspicions.

"I can smell her perfume on you, Nat"

Natasha froze, her eyes searching yours for a hope you were just being silly, "wh-what are you talking about?" she asked.

"Please don't make me do this Natasha… I just…I need to know…have you been sleeping with her?"

The room went silent, Natasha's eyes flickered away, she chewed her bottom lip slightly before taking a seat on the sofa. "Yes" she broke, barely keeping her eye contact with you, "I did" she added. Your heart dropped at her words, you tried to hold back your tears, but it was pointless. "W-who is she?"

"It doesn't matter, Y/n…I shouldn't have done it"

"It does matter, Natasha" you took a deep breath, "it does matter, who is she?"

Natasha looked down at the coffee table in front of her, "it's Carol"

"Carol..." you repeated the name, "how long?"

"Y/n, please don't do this, don't ask these questions"

"How long, Natasha" tears now heavily running down your cheeks.

"Baby, it doesn't matter. It's over between her and I, I promise"

"Natasha just answer the damn question" you snapped.

She sighed, "it happened three times since the snap" she replied, again her eyes flickered away from yours. "When did you last see her?"

"I last saw her before I came home tonight but the last time, we…it was" she paused and stood from the sofa taking a couple of steps closer to you, "it doesn't matter" she spoke.

"Don't touch me!" you stepped back away from her open arms, "This whole time I thought it was me that did something, that I might have upset you!"

"I know baby… I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happened, it was a mistake" she pleads.

"No Natasha… a mistake happens once, not three fucking times!"

"You're right, I'm sorry, I really am. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm a fucking idiot, I've hurt you and I can't forgive myself but please…let me fix this"

You shook your head at her words, "Nat, this isn't something you can just fix with your sweet talk and affection! I can't trust you" you turned your back to her making your way to the bedroom. Natasha followed, her heart ripping out of her chest "Where are you going to go?" she asked as you pulled out the small suitcase from the wardrobe.

"That's none of your business" you mumbled as you started to pack some of your clothing.

"Baby please don't go; we can work through this. We'll go to couples counselling, I'll cut all connections with her, I can't lose you" she closed the lid of your suitcase when you tried to put your clothing inside. "You should've thought about that before you decided to fuck Carol three times!" You snapped, pushing her hand away. "You're upset, you have every right to be, I fucked up, but I know you still love me" she watched you gather more of your belongings.

"I can't believe you did this to us, to me! After everything we've been through, you do this? And for what? Why did you do it?"

"I-I don't know… it just happened…I have no excuse"

"So, you didn't even think about me while you were with her?"

Natasha didn't reply. The sound of your suitcase being zipped up was the only sound that killed the silence, "I didn't think so" you blinked your tears down your cheek once more. "Don't go" Natasha reached for your left arm. "I need space, I think it'll be best if you just left me alone" you looked at her one last time before walking out with some of your things. Leaving Natasha to slump herself down on the end of the bed with her head in her hands only to break into tears when the front door closed.

You went to the only person who knew you well enough to understand you. Knocking on her door at 11:32pm, your suitcase behind you and your eyes sore from crying, she answers.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Concern quickly washes over Wanda's face.

"S-she cheated on me Wands" you broke once again. "Oh honey" Wanda pulled you in for a tight hug, "come inside" she spoke when it started to rain. She grabbed your suitcase for you and took it to the guest room as you sat yourself down on her sofa.

"Here" she spoke softly, offering you a box of tissues before she sat down next to you, wrapping her right arm around you as you laid your head comfortably in her lap. "What happened?" she asked.

"S-she said she slept with Carol three times" you replied as more tears filled your eyes, "she didn't even try to give me an excuse for why it happened" you added. Wanda gently rubbed your bicep as you cried in her lap. "I'm so sorry sweetheart" she said softly before brushing the locks of hair out of your face. "I love her so much Wands, but she's broken my trust" you sobbed.

"It's okay honey, let it out" she kept gently rubbing your bicep.

You cried until sleep took over you and eventually you fell asleep in Wanda's lap. She stayed with you until she knew you were deep in sleep before carefully placing a cushion under your head and getting a thick warm blanket from the guest room to cover you.

----

In the morning, Wanda was careful not to wake you as she made herself a mug of coffee and some breakfast, soft snores came from her living room as you were still deeply asleep, even the knocking on the front door did nothing to you.

"Nat, what are you doing here?" Wanda stepped out of the house, closing the door over slightly. "Is she here? Y/n, is she here?" Natasha asked. "She is but she's asleep and I don't think she wants to see you at the moment" Wanda replied sternly. "Come on Wanda don't be like that. Don't keep me from her. I know I hurt her, I know I fucked up but it's our business, not yours"

"I heard what you said to Carol, Natasha" Wanda crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh yeah, what was that? That we shouldn't have done what we did?" Natasha frowned.

"You said Y/n wouldn't find out, that she was too in love with you to even notice you were lying to her. Now you and I both know you and Carol have been seeing each other more than three times, so I think it's best that you give Y/n space and let her come to you whenever she's ready" Wanda tilted her head slightly to the left.

"What do you think is going to happen when she finds out that you already knew about it and never told her huh? If you want to play hero Maximoff, you've picked the wrong time to do so" Natasha cocked an eyebrow.

"I didn't know, actually. But after Y/n explained it all last night, it made sense. I've seen the way you and Danvers look at each other, I've seen the sneak aways and coming back 20 minutes later. How you could be so stupid, I don't know. All I do know is that you've crushed her and you being here right now would do more harm than good. Now I suggest you get off my property"

Natasha rolled her eyes, "just tell her I need to talk to her" she said before walking away from the front door. "Oh, and Natasha, I will tell her the truth. She deserves to know" Wanda replied as Natasha was walking. "If you do that, she's never going to talk to me again!" Nat snapped as she turned to face Wanda again. "Well, you had your chance to tell her last night and you still lied, I won't lie to her" Wanda said before closing the door on Natasha.

Wanda didn't want to wake you to tell you that Natasha just dropped by, she let you sleep for as long as you needed while she did some gardening out back to keep from waking you.

When Wanda came back from the snap, she moved out of the compound and brought a large family like home in Westview. She wanted a break from being an Avenger, some time to herself to really process her life since Pietro and like Natasha, she too lost her closest friend, Vision. Wanda quickly fell in love with the normality of her new life, she made friends with her neighbors, she got time to watch her favorite sitcoms and discover new ones which the box set would sit proudly on her DVD display, the walls of her house had photos of those she loved and cared for. Unfortunately, there weren't any of her parents or Pietro, but she made do with buying objects that reminded her of them.

"You've done a great job out here Wands!" you smiled as you held a warm mug of coffee.

"Good evening to you" Wanda looked up from the roses and smiled, "did you sleep well?"

"Surprisingly I did, thank you" you replied before taking a seat at her outdoor table, "I'll start looking for an apartment today and try find something quickly so I'm not in your hair"

"Oh, no, please, stay as long as you need. The guest room is yours for however long you need" Wanda took her gardening gloves off and placed them on the table before taking a seat herself. "Thanks Wands, you're the best" you sipped your coffee.

"I need to tell you something, it's about Nat" Your heart felt like it broke once again at the sound of her name. "She stopped by while you were asleep, she wanted to talk but I told her you were asleep and that you probably needed some time" Wanda started, "I didn't want to say anything last night because you were already so upset and I really don't want to make things worse for you but you need to know, I don't think it was just three times" she adds with a sorry look.

"Oh" you swallowed the lump in your throat, "did you know?" you asked looking into her eyes.

"No" she shook her head, "at the time I didn't think that was what was going on. If I did, I would've said something, you know I would've. But after you told me everything last night, it played on my mind"

There was a moment of silence as you processed Wanda's words.

"Di-did she look happy?" you asked.

"I didn't look at them long enough, I just noticed the way they started to look at each other then it was the random leaving for moments and coming back flustered. I just thought they were doing something stupid to joke around with the boys…if I noticed sooner –"

"It's okay, Wands…I know, you would've said something" you felt the tears build up in your eyes once more, "I'm going to have a shower" you stood from the table, leaving your coffee behind as you walked to the bathroom.

Warm water ran down your body as you sat at the bottom of the stream, your knees to your chest as you cried. Memories of Natasha and you once being so happy flooded your mind now turned into questions of "was she just with her before she came home?", "was she this happy because she just slept with her again?" All these thoughts soon led to "what was wrong with me?" Questions like, "did I do something wrong?", "was she not attracted to me anymore?", "was she no longer happy?". Even the sound of the shower couldn't cover the sound of your sobs as Wanda walked past the bathroom to get her phone from her bedroom.

She hated to see you broken, she herself was furious at Natasha and Carol but knew her anger wasn't helpful to the situation. You needed a friend, somebody who you could trust, and she was that person, even if it frustrated her more that she had to keep herself some telling Natasha her true thoughts.

----

It was months before you'd be able to see Natasha again, a few texts here and there was the little communication you gave the Russian spy. Wanda collected more of your things from the building you once called home and encouraged you to see Natasha just one more time, to really talk and sort things out. The pain in your heart didn't seem to get easier, even with time apart from Nat, it still felt fresh. Thoughts of yourself worth would dawn on you during the early hours of the morning between the tossing and turning, trying to keep the images of Natasha and Carol flashing through your mind.

Deep down you knew that seeing Natasha was something that needed to be done, for some sort of closure. Many times, during the week you tried to send her a simple text asking to meet with you but every time your thumb hovered of the send button but never landed on it. Instead, you decided to just go to her. Maybe catching her off guard you would get the truth to your questions, not giving her any time to think of little lies to make the pain hurt less.

The compound felt differently as you walked down the halls, following the sounds of loud laughter coming from the main living room. Your stomach turned with every step that led you closer and closer to the laughter before catching the drop of your already broken heart as your eyes locked onto the scene before you.

Natasha sitting across Carol's lap as the two proudly showed off photos from the photobooth taken at a carnival. Nobody noticed your standing in the door frame, watching the two Avengers laughing at the faces they pulled in their photos. One of Carol's arms draped behind Natasha's neck while Nat's arms wrapped free around the blonde. You knew that talking to Natasha now wasn't going to go as planned, so, slowly, you turned on your heels and walked away.

Leaving the woman you loved behind knowing she was happier with somebody else.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #black widow #marvel

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ravisinghs-wife · 11 months

Note

Hii!

Could you please do Aaron Warner x reader dating post? cause I live for that man.

Aaron warner x gn!reader

warnings: ooc!Aaron (?), I changed the timeline and a tiny bit of the plot from unravel me, my poor attempt at writing anything besides headcanon, cringe writing, mention of being drugged, being shot, curse words

word count: 1.6k +

notes to the reader: reader's gift is to make people believe and do everything they say. reader has been at omega point since their childhood and is best friends with kenji. reader wears a dress

other notes to the fic: Juliette and Aaron are just friends (well still kind of enemies, but Aaron's main focus from bringing her to the reestablishment was to help his mom, instead of rescuing her bc he was in love with her), a/n: I am SO sorry that this took so long, I'm currently trying to work on my request before I open them again but I just don't have that much motivation to write rn😭, I hope you still like it:)), my first language isn't English so please respect that, I tried to write something different from what I normally do...

Masterlist

you two met when he was taken by omega point

after he was allowed outside of his room, and castle made sure that Aaron wouldn't destroy any more furniture, he kept seeing you on his daily walks with castle and began asking questions about you

"what's their name" Aaron looked focused, directing his question to the person joining him on his walk. Castle waited a few seconds before answering Aaron's question: "y/n, their gift is to make people believe and do everything they say" Aaron gave you another intense look before turning his attention to castle again and nodding, to signalize that he understood him.

after that he kept noticing you and eventually agreed to eat dinner with the others, just so he could sit at the same table as you and listen to your conversations with Kenji

you had been friends with Kenji for as long as you could remember, so you always sat at the same table, different friends of yours joining you both, be it Ian, Brendan, lily or the brand new members Adam, James or Juliette, with whom Kenji was especially close

but when the new omega point member, the infamous Aaron Warner joins you both you of course notice him

you also didn't miss the glances he kept sending you

so when castle, who also didn't miss the glances, asked you to train him you rushed to say yes because you just couldn't believe that a person could be so pure evil like Adam pointed him out to be

yes, he let someone tortured your best friend (which you still were pretty pissed about) but you believed that there could be something nice in him and assumed that he was under much stress due to his father, who you haven't heard a single nice thing about

his first training session was on an Tuesday afternoon, to which he arrived exactly on time and in perfect clothing, as if he somehow found a way to iron it

you started with some simple tasks to try to find out what exactly his power is and why he is immune to Juliettes touch

around three sessions later you come to then training session in your prettiest dress that you normally safe for special occasions

aaron, he demanded that you call him by his first name, immediately had one of his rare smiles spread out on his face when he saw you in that dress

he kept asking you to do a twirl so he could see the whole dress but you refused at first

it wasn't until he came closer to you, held your hands carefully in his and asked like a little puppy "please to a twirl for me, my beloved" that you made one with a shocked face

when he saw your expression he rushed to stop you and asked panicked if everything was alright

you told him that he just practiced your gift and couldn't do anything but do a twirl

after that both of you quickly figured out that his gift was to practice other peoples powers and copy them

the night after you are me in his room, trying to work on his powers

you do that until you notice him staring at you

"what's wrong Aaron?" you ask, looking concernt at the boy. you notice that he isn't smiling or grinning a bit like he normally does when you say his name. "my beloved, I- I'll have to leave in the morning. My father can't suspect that I'm here or where exactly omega point is, he'll know soon if i stay longer. I can't put you at this risk." You were shocked to say the least. "Aaron you can't- how would you even do that? Do you even know the way out?" "I wasn't really unconscious when I was brought here, you know? And I found a way to navigate myself around here in the last two months." He looks at your shocked face before adding: "But don't worry, I won't tell my dad or someone else about anything here. I'll hope that you'll miss me the same amount that I will miss you. I hope we will see each other soon again"

He doesn't let you protest any further, gives your hand a gentleman-like kiss and leaves

you had absolutely no idea where he went to, it was his room that you spent your time just mere minutes ago in, after all

still in shock you don't even think about following him, the only thought in your head being that he would be gone tomorrow and will probably spent his time with his pathetic excuse of an father

You don't even think about telling castle or someone else at omega point about Aaron leaving, and at the morning of the very next day you find out that he succeeded

days pass until each member from the rescuing mission of Brendan and Winston, who where both kidnapped my Aaron's psycho dad, Anderson, were ready and prepared to start the mission

the mission seemed to go well until you saw the bombs falling from the sky directly on the place where omega point was located

you were in shock and didn't notice the arms grabbing you and dragging you into a tank

you'd been handcuffed and your eyes were covered with a cloth

there was a voice saying something but you didn't catch was it was saying

someone forced a liquid down your throat and you soon passed out after that

the first thing that you noticed was the warm light

you sat in a kitchen chair but soon noticed that a person, who you assumed to be Anderson, Aaron's dad, because of the obvious resembles, joined you

shit

you didn't catch everything he was saying because you were still feeling dizzy from the drug you were forced to consume, something about revenge, the stupidness of his son (who apparently had joined you two), leading and shooting someone

you soon found out that with someone they meant you, when you were shot in the chest

right into your heart

being shot and drugged at the same day wasn't a nice feeling

you were bleeding and if it didn't stop soon you'd be dead in a few minutes

and if that would happen you couldn't exactly tell because you passed out

for the second time today

it was a shock, to say nicely, when you woke up next to Aaron

he immediately asked you if you were okay but you just stared at him

"I- What the fuck happened?" "my father he- he wanted to 'teach me a lesson'. I'm sorry, my beloved. If I never would've asked him to spare your life he wouldn't have tried to kill you or make me try to kill you." he rambled, trying to explain the earlier actions. But one question was still lingering in your head: "why exactly would you have asked him to spare my life?" He could've carered so much more about someone else's life than yours. Juliettes or maybe James. Besides his constant dining you were sure that he cared at least a bit for them. "Because I care for you, my beloved." You don't know what to say after this confession and just look at him and take his hand into yours.

that's how you met<33 sorry, I got carried away

anyway

that man SPOILS you

you see a pretty flower at the market? It's yours. There is a new collectors edition of your favorite book, but it's out of your price range right now? It's on your desk the next day. The limited edition vinyl that just restocked? already ordered, you get the deal

despite everything he says he actually loves dogs and you'll get one when everything with the reestablishment is over

he'll always pick out fancy colars for the dog and style it<3

he definitely has a fashion blog and posts his daily outfits on there

he'll also pick out your outfit everyday and he always tries for you two to match

every time you go shopping with Juliette and/or Kenji he insists on tagging along so you don't chose some ridiculous clothing items that would wash you out or something

he's obsessed with coffee after delalieu introduced him to it

and when you already like coffee you two have this ritual that every Sunday you guys drink a cup coffee on your balcony and just enjoy the early morning

but if you don't like coffee he always tries to get you into it and 'accidentally' places an extra cup on the breakfast table

"i promise my beloved, it's really good you just have to try it for once"

his love languages are words of affirmations and physical touch

he can't go longer than five minutes without touching you

he always has his hand rested on your lower back or holds your hand because your touch comforts and relaxes him<33

also loves to hold your pinkies

he may not look like it but he LOVES cuddling

you can't sleep anymore without you normally grumpy boyfriend squeezing you like his life depended on it

he also loves to rest his head on your belly before sleeping, while you both read something

he's so mesmerized by your presence

he tells you at least ten times a day how gorgeous, smart or lovely you are

you could literally just walk to the kitchen to get a snack and he'd drop everything to tell you how much he loves you

at the beginning of your relationship he was way more open than you expected with his feelings and already told you one month in the relationship that he loved you

I don't know why but I think he'd write you poems frequently

#aaron warner x reader #aaron warner #aaron warner fanfic #aaron warner fluff #shatter me x reader #shatter me #unravel me #dating headcanons #x reader #aaron x reader #tahereh mafi

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arzuera · 8 months

Text

Who Wrote That?!

Hello! This is a Host and Player's guide on how to play 'Who Wrote That?!', a writing game for all ages! What is 'Who Wrote That?'? It's a game played with a minimum of 4 players or more. The players submit excerpts based on a prompt to the host and then have to guess who wrote what when the host releases them later. Whoever has the most points at the end is the winner!

Rules for Players

If there is one, please read the 'Do Not' list that any host gives you. This ensures that everyone has fun and no one is secluded because someone wrote something that triggered them.

2. Write an excerpt based on the prompt in the given timeframe. If you need an extension, ask the Host! More than likely, they will work with you. After all, the more the merrier.

3. Try to keep to the word limit, if there is one. Writing too much could out you just as much as writing too little. If you feel that your excerpt may be too long or too short, ask the Host if you may need to edit.

4. HAVE FUN! You can keep any writing that is too long and post it later or even continue the story if you wish! Odds are the plotbunnies will have made themselves home anyway :D

How to Host

Hosting is just as fun as playing! You get to read all the lovely juicy fun words and then see everyone gush and lament on the excerpts and their choices between submissions! The Host is the person/people who organize the rounds and keep track of the points. They also are the ones who post the excerpts for the players to read during guessing time and post the reveals round by round after voting is closed. It can seem daunting but it's a lot of fun!

There are two ways to play: A long game and a short game.

On average, a long game is considered a word limit of 1k or higher with a short game being about one paragraph or 300-400 words. Your game length will vary on the number of players and how long the excerpts are.

First, as the Host, pick or come up with a prompt. Try and find one or make it, open-ended so that the authors can really make the prompt their own! For example:

Danny gets trapped in a spellbook. He binds himself to whoever touches him next. The only way to release the bind is by either freeing Danny or doing so many things the book says (which the book is blank and Danny can control what is in it). Shenanigans

Also here is the Tumblr post source: Prompt Source

This is the first game we played! Its short but vague enough for the players to go off on their own interpretations.

Second, figure out the timeframe that works as best for you as it does with everyone else. Unfortunately due to timezones, you may not be able to have everyone online for the live voting or reveals. But that can be remedied a bit by giving time for people to be there.

A long game normally goes Tuesday-Friday for prompt submissions, Saturday is dedicated to voting, and Sunday will be the reveal!

Short games can do the same as above but maybe at hour intervals instead. 2-3 hours for submissions, an hour for voting, then reveal! Third, once you have your prompt and time frame, now it's time to let players know! Make a post or @ your friends so that they can play!

Fourth, collect all of the submissions in a Google doc and then organize the submissions by round order. That way you aren't digging for a prompt through Discord messages or google docs. It's all ready to go!

Fifth, when you have all of your submissions, it's time to make a Google form! Make an assessment and create as many questions as there are rounds with the players' names as the answers. Make sure to turn off 'shuffle option order'

Because this will move all the answers around and that is unnecessarily confusing.

Next go to settings and make it a quiz! But turn the other options off

Turning off missed questions, correct answers and point values makes it so the players don't see what they got after they submit their answers. They won't know until you reveal it all at the end! Now all you have to do is wait for voting time!

Sixth, Now it's time for the players to vote and they get to gush over what they are reading while chaos begins. Post the excerpts at hour intervals to give the players a chance to discuss among themselves. This is where they will try to throw the other off the scent of their work or try sus out the author. It's a lot of fun to watch :3

Lastly, reveals. Once voting is done, you can go into the Google form and see how everyone did! Calculate the points and figure out if you have a winner! When you have the points calculated, release the results of Who Wrote That one round at a time. Reveal who the author of that excerpt was along with who all got it right! Continue this by giving some time between results so the players can tease each other until all of the reveals are done and you announce the winner!

Congrats! You just hosted a game of Who Wrote That?! ! :3

Disclaimer: Google docs is mainly mentioned because most of the games have been running via co-hosting. With google docs, we can share the excerpts that both of us have gotten easily to one another. However, if you are hosting on your own, then any doc program should work just fine.

#writing game #soemthing fun i came up with #been working on sussing it out #its not perfect but its a lot of fun

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wingzie · 26 days

Note

Hi Lovely!

You are the G.O.A.T Jikook historian and I love, love, love your threads on Twitter. I also love your posts you’ve been doing here on your thoughts and perspectives all things Jikook, jikookers and the fandom.

I have a question. I’ve already talked about it a while ago but I wanted your take. What’s your opinion on people feeling like Jikook haven’t been the same post-2020 and the fact that EVEN MORE feel like since chapter two Jikook are not in a ‘relationship’ anymore. I use ‘relationship’ as it’s the easiest word to use for them for this ask, whatever people believe the labels for Jikook’s jikooking should be.

Do you think that:

a. There IS a difference in Jikook of the past and Jikook of now?

b. Do you think that if they once had something they no longer do?

c. Do you think that Jikook are no longer close after chapter 2.

We know Jikook are currently serving together and used the buddy system but apart from that, if you were to answer the above with evidence as the Jikook historian you are, what’s your take.

Thank you for your part in making Jikook spaces fun and informative 😉

💜

Hello! Thank you for your kind words and for sending in the ask. Let’s get into it with some honest truths: I don’t see a difference and I don’t think anything has changed. I am very much aware of what people are saying, but this is a pattern that repeats itself every single time there is less content to “feed” those who are less patient. Or, even worse, those who want to control Jimin and Jungkook.

On 8th March 2020, BTS were told that their April concerts in Seoul would be cancelled. As we know, this later included the cancellation of their entire tour. Both the members and entire fandom were very upset about this, but I remember very vividly reading takes on the Jikook side of Tumblr saying: "but what about our Jikook content?" When, in all honesty, that should never have been the main focus when the entire world was experiencing a pandemic. I've seen this complaint several times. This happened during their vaction in 2019 and it's even happening now whilst they are in the military. It is incredibly selfish. I may be a Jikooker, but I understand that Jimin and Jungkook are their own people.

Hindsight is also a wonderful thing. There are a lot of times that we don't know about something, until it is revealed later on. We didn't know that Jikook ate dinner together after one of their concerts until the docuseries was released. This goes for 2018 AND in 2022. There are certain things that Jikook do because it is to heavily engrained into their routine together. We just won't always witness or hear about it.

How is this all linked though? There has been a change in content releases. We were used to Memories being released every summer and a Run episode every Tuesday. Episode 155 was the last weekly episode, released in October 2021. The last Special Episode was released in February 2023. They would have been filmed years apart, but they still show the same closeness and loving spirit. Both of these episodes also included some Jimin butt loving from Jungkook!

When chapter 2 began, it was obvious that Jimin and Jungkook were focusing on their own things. They do not have a persona in BTS to explore with, so this was their chance to share their stories or experiment with other music. Though busy, they still supported each other massively with social media posts or hyping each other on Lives. This is another pattern which has maintained over the years.

We also know that they have been on several trips together. They may have been on many more that we don't know of. I personally don't worry about it, I just support them as much as I can without putting any pressure on them. That would be unfair. I just think that whenever we do see anything from them, we are very lucky.

I know this response is probably what you (and others) weren't expecting, but I think those saying these things are probably too involved in Jimin and Jungkook's lives. That also goes with the amount of leaked photos and videos lately that I have seen on all platforms. Respect goes a long way and some are abusing it. (And thank you for always showing it in your own posts!) I am working on a "Jikook during Chapter Two" post, coming soon!

#wingzie #wingzieanon

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nhasablogg · 8 months

Text

The White House Letters

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Summary: Henry starts sending Alex discreet tickle notes and it's driving him insane.

Warnings: Tickle kinks, bondage, nsfw undertones

Words: 4k

(Read it on AO3)

The first note comes when Alex is in a meeting, irate and exhausted and wishing he was on a plane going to see Henry already. Cash hands him the envelope once he steps outside the office, grinning at the delirious way he blinks at the name of the sender - something so posh he knows it to be Henry’s pseudonym - before falling in stride with him to the elevator. Alex is impatient. Alex is tired and a little horny and missing Henry and is therefore impatient, and so he tears the letter open as soon as the doors close and nearly has a fucking heart attack right there, in front of Cash who pointedly does not look at him out of pure politeness.

Wishing you were here right now. I need to kiss down your waist, your thighs, stop just where I know it’s sensitive and then focus just there, making you scream for mercy or release, depending on the day.

See you Tuesday,

Alex cannot wait until fucking Tuesday, if only because he needs to kill Henry as soon as he can for daring to send something like this to him where anyone could get a hold of it.

“I thought I was the reckless one,” he says into the phone minutes later. “What are you doing.”

He can practically hear Henry’s smirk when he says, “Since emails are too risky I decided to send you a little something.” He laughs at whatever sound manages to escape from Alex’s lips. “Did you see how expertly I avoided calling it ticklishness? I figured if someone did find it and did figure out it was us then you’d probably be more embarrassed about that leaking out than anything else.”

Alex, for the first time in his life, nearly hangs up on him, but Henry is laughing, Henry is pleased, and he can’t be mad about that even though he is somewhat embarrassed.

“I’ll get you back,” he says, picturing Henry beneath him, Henry giggling as he goes for his sides. “I’ll get you back so good.”

“Mmm, only after I’ve wrecked you in more than one way, right?”

“Sleep with one eye open, your majesty.”

The second note comes before Alex has even had time to draft his first, neatly stacked with his usual post as if it was any other letter. He’s almost scared to open it, but at least he’s alone this time. Cash practically laughed at him as he rushed out of the elevator two days prior (“Unprofessional!” he called back). He won’t make the same mistake twice.

He fingers the envelope, wondering if he should finish his own note first, before ripping it open, scanning it quickly as if it would personally offend him before reading it again, taking in each word.

I lay awake thinking of how wonderful your expression probably was while reading my last letter. I can imagine you gasping, as dramatic as you are, while that blush that I adore so much spread over your face. It’s nothing like the sounds you make when I touch your body, my fingers trailing over your hips. Nothing like the blush when I ask you about the sounds.

My hands long for you.

Yours,

That fucking bastard. From someone else’s point of view the note sounds sexual, sensual, all exploring hands and passionate kisses. And while that is the case there’s something else, something hidden and only theirs beneath it all, behind the way Henry describes it.

Alex hates how he’s blushing from fucking written words, although he knows that Henry’s done this to him before, in other ways. He hates how he can feel Henry’s hands on him, fingers digging into his hip bones ever so slightly, just enough to make him squirm. He refuses to acknowledge the sounds Henry talks of, even though he knows exactly what those are. He hates how he knows Henry was smiling fondly while writing both letters, but maybe especially this second one, knowing Alex would already be on edge.

That is to say, he doesn’t hate it at all. He simply hates the distance and that he can’t do anything about it.

“How does one send letters to the Prince of Wales?” he asks Zahra half an hour later, his own letter with his own pseudonym steady in his hands.

“Alex.” Henry’s voice is somewhat high pitched when Alex answers the call.

“Yes, baby?”

“I had Bea in the room with me!”

“I said I was gonna get revenge, didn’t I?��

“You’re a menace.” But behind the words Alex can hear that he’s smiling, flustered, pleased. “Maybe we have to make use of those handcuffs you wrote of. On you, of course.”

“Nuh uh. You brought that on yourself, mister.”

“You’re the one who owns them.”

Alex hates that he blushes at that and that Henry probably knows it.

The next day, when Henry is literally in the air on his way to him, he receives a third letter, opening it immediately and doing his best not to show a single emotion even though he’s alone. It doesn’t work.

I’m bringing an extra pair of ‘cuffs for your lower half too.

Love,

Alex is still blushing when Henry arrives at his door.

The thing is, even when they’ve been shut in Alex’s room for half a day, touching and kissing and laughing and talking without mentioning the handcuffs (which Alex swears is purely to put him on edge), Henry still slips him a note at the end of the day. Alex had watched him write it, too curious to stop him when Henry had asked for pen and paper and had been perched on his desk for much longer than Alex had expected he would. The note is folded and envelopeless, given to him in between kisses and an episode of Bake Off. He watches Henry, who looks so innocent Alex knows he’s doomed, before opening it.

Alex,

I can call you that now, in the privacy of this room that’s seen so much of both you and I that it nearly makes me blush if I think of it too much. But then again it was a random hotel in Berlin which saw how we put my necktie to good use. It was my room in Kensington which saw me destroy you with raspberries to your belly of all things. You’re so ticklish and it’s driving me crazy.

It’s a strange thing to be so fixated on, isn’t it? But the world doesn’t see how you get shy when I tease your ribs. How you giggle if I go for your knees, or how you never beg me to stop until you have to. The world doesn’t see what I see when you laugh, unguarded, ticklish and happy. It’s too lovely not to obsess over. It’s too beautiful not to love.

Don’t get me wrong. I know you adore getting revenge and I’m expecting it any moment now, but just to see your face flush while reading this will be worth it.

Yours forever, in giddy laughter,

Henry

“Did I finally render you speechless?” Henry asks when Alex stares at the note for too long, eyes unmoving.

Alex rounds up on him. “You’re a piece of shit,” he says and Henry laughs when he tackles him onto the bed, getting that aforementioned revenge in by prodding at his sides. Truth is, Henry is probably more ticklish than Alex and enjoys it much more, but his enjoyment seems to also span into tormenting Alex, and Alex is always too flustered to tease him back in the moment for some inexplicable reason he might figure out one day.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says when he’s finished tickling him and tries to sit up, only for Henry to grab a hold of his wrist.

“Wait,” he says, smirking even though he was breathless a second ago. “How ‘bout we make some of the things in my letters come true, hmm?”

And Alex laughs and squirms and doesn’t protest when he finally goes for his hips.

He leaves the handcuffs in the White House, which stresses Alex out because now he feels as if he should bring a pair with him when he flies over in a few weeks, unwilling to admit why he would bring them in the first place. “You forgot these,” he could say, and Henry would grin in a way that would have his knees buckling.

The fifth letter is left on his pillow. He pretends not to see when Henry puts it there and doesn’t open it until much later, when he knows Henry’s landed and that he can call him if he needs to yell at him.

Sweetheart,

Keep them safe until we meet again. I will keep my promise this time.

Yours,

And Alex nearly wants to scream because he wishes he’d kept his promise the first time and this is not something he’s willing to suddenly have to figure out on his own.

“How did you know?” he asks, voice low, frantic, his feet pacing a hole in his carpet.

“That you want me to tie you up and tickle you like you did to me?” comes the reply and Alex does scream now.

“My god, Henry, why didn’t you force this upon me yesterday?”

“I’d missed you too much. And you didn’t seem ready yet.”

Alex thinks of the ways he’s tied Henry up before, usually using anything but handcuffs until he decided to invest in them. How he kissed vulnerable skin and made sure it tickled just because he likes hearing him giggle. How Henry asked him not to stop and how Alex got curious. How Alex keeps provoking him but being too scared to let him restrain him fully, opting instead for being pinned.

Of fucking course Henry figured it out. They’re not very different, after all. Alex is just more obtuse about it.

“I’m bringing them both,” he’s saying now, used to blushing whenever Henry laughs now, although this time it’s sweet, fond, soft, as if he’s telling Alex it’s okay to be curious and it’s okay to have it affect him.

“Please do hurry.”

Alex opens the sixth letter on the plane, a stupid mistake he’s well aware of before he even pulls it out of his pocket, but he does it anyway and Cash doesn’t ask any questions but Zahra does send him a glare which Alex interprets as rare curiosity.

While my mouth and hands are anticipating you I hope you do realize I’m simply teasing and you don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do. I can make you squirm anyway.

Love,

It’s the first note to not make him sputter in embarrassment, which is highly convenient since both Cash and Zahra are watching him. He knows Henry won’t do anything he’s not ready for, that he will stop if Alex decides he’s changed his mind. It’s not what’s making the knot in his stomach tighten, but the idea of trying it and realizing it’s not as great as it seems when he does it to Henry. That Henry won’t get to return the favor even though he so obviously wants to according to all the notes. That Alex will disappoint him by simply being too ticklish, or maybe not ticklish enough, not laughing as much as Henry wishes he would, thrashing so wildly he accidentally dislocates something. They’re all stupid things to worry about, he knows, but they keep his mind occupied throughout the whole flight.

The White House Letters. It’s what he calls the notes in his head, a play on the whole Waterloo Letters. Because of it, it somehow feels wrong to not be at the White House while doing this, but Alex simply cannot wait a moment longer. When he practically runs toward the door, Henry manages to open it just in time, accompanied by Shaan, and pulls him into his arms.

They talk about it almost immediately this time, as Alex pulls both handcuffs out of his bag the moment they enter Henry’s room. “I figured we could tie you up too,” he says, because the idea of it only being him is slightly too much for him to handle.

Henry’s ears pinken. As much as he teases him, he’s just as receptive to this topic as he is. “Okay.”

“If you want.”

“Of course I do, but- If you’ve changed your mind-”

“I haven’t.”

“Okay.” Henry nods, smiling now. “Good, because I’ve not been able to think of anything else.”

Alex laughs, something hysterical. “That makes two of us.”

“Do you want a note before we start?” Henry asks, pulling the seventh letter out of his pocket. “I wrote it with care.”

“You and your notes are gonna be the end of me,” he says and takes it, finding it blissfully short.

Alex,

Feel free to let go. It’s very freeing to laugh uncontrollably.

Love,

Henry

Alex looks at him from over the paper. “No other piece of advice?”

“No, I think that’s it.”

“All right then. It was very live, laugh, love of you.”

When Henry laughs Alex realizes he’s not the only one who’s nervous.

When Alex tied Henry up in a drunken stupor many weeks ago only to realize the way he ran his hands over his vulnerable body made him giggle, he’d been swaying between two choices. Apologize and kiss him and turn his hands rougher, or keep his touch light just to see when Henry would ask him to stop. Just to see him squirm and giggle and blush. But when he didn’t do either of those things but simply hovered over him with that playful smile from the realization that he was ticklish still lingering, Henry asked him not to stop. Henry, who was tied but not necessarily secured, held onto the bedpost in that hotel in Berlin and let Alex curl his fingers over his underarms. Let him press ticklish kisses to his neck and stomach and inner thighs, and something had awoken in him which he’d never been familiar with before.

“Have you done that before?” he asked Henry who shook his head. He didn’t ask if he’d dreamt of doing it. Somehow it felt too intimate at that point in their relationship.

Now is different. Now Henry is teasing him over something Alex has rarely thought of before, and he finds he doesn’t mind it, despite how embarrassed he can get. Finds he wants to know what it is that Henry finds so comforting about this.

When Alex is lying on the bed and finds he can’t move his arms at all, Henry pulls out the eighth note.

“You and your notes,” Alex says for the hundredth time, but he’s been Pavloved into blushing at the mere sight of them and he can’t hide his face now.

Henry grins at him about it, or maybe due to his exasperated tone. “I was thinking I’d read it to you, since you’re a little preoccupied.” He clears his throat, all soft smugness. “Alex. I can’t wait to tickle you to pieces. Yes, I’m saying it plainly now because what’s the point in pretending? I’m going to tickle you and you’re going to squirm and laugh and not be able to do anything about it- This isn’t in the note, but of course that’s hyperbole and we’ll have a safe word.”

“Right.” Alex’s voice is high pitched.

“Right. Continuing. I’m going to ever so gently tickle your hips and belly and neck, relishing in how you try and fail to pull your hands down to stop me.”

“When did you even have time to write this.”

“Do be quiet, sweetheart, I’m not done.”

Alex huffs and shifts, the padded handcuffs soft against his wrists.

“I’ll destroy you in such a gentle way you won’t know what to do with yourself, and when I’m done you’ll still be giggling, because despite what you say you do giggle.” He emphasizes his words with a tilt of his head. “Just make sure to do one thing for me, okay?” He folds the note up. “Have fun.”

“What, no ‘love, Henry’?”

“It’s so cute how you think that mouth of yours can hide the way you’re blushing right now.” Henry runs his fingertips over Alex’s cheek, most likely burning them because, yes, Alex is totally blushing his fucking head off. “Are you ready, love?”

“I don’t know.” He feels his heartbeat quicken, his palms suddenly sweating. “What if I don’t like it?”

“Then we’ll stop and never do it again.”

“Okay.” He tries for a smile. “I’ll at the very least get to wreck you back.”

Henry laughs. “We’ll see if you have enough energy for that, granted that we’re at it for a while.”

Alex huffs. “I’ll get you eventually. I mean, you’re practically doing this to get me to get you back, right?”

Henry nods mock-solemnly. “Of course, of course.”

“Such an elaborate ruse for some tickles.”

“Alex, are you stalling on purpose? We don’t have to do it.”

“No, no, I want to.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, go for it.”

Henry’s smile is gentle. “What’s your safe word?”

“Uh. Cornbread?” When Henry bursts into laughter Alex feels himself finally relaxing. “I panicked, okay?”

“Cornbread will do fine,” Henry says and leans in, kissing the corner of Alex’s mouth. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

When Henry smiles and moves his lips downward Alex finds himself surprised, not having realized Henry would be using his mouth immediately and loving him for it. He starts giggling the moment Henry finds his neck, even though he’s not really doing anything but softly graze the skin under his ear. Alex tries to scrunch up his shoulder, and while it’s probably the one and only movement that grants him any sort of mercy he finds it’s not really enough to fully shut the sensation out.

“So sensitive,” Henry mumbles into his skin and Alex has an insult at the tip of his tongue but then Henry’s hand joins in before he has a chance to say it, quick fingers on his armpit.

He screams, which surprises them both, pulling at his hands in desperation without being able to stop Henry at all. It’s not even necessarily unbearable yet, simply different, a sensation he’s never felt in this way before. Ticklish shocks of some kind are shooting through his nervous system and his body is struggling without his consent. When his screaming turns into hysterical laughter Henry stops, although he doesn’t remove his hand.

“Remember your safe word?”

“Y-yes, don’t worry.” Alex is grateful for the opportunity to breathe though. “This is- so much so suddenly. You’re barely doing anything.”

Henry breathes out a laugh into his neck which makes him flinch involuntarily. “It’s weird, right?”

“Very.”

“Do you like it?”

“I can’t tell yet. I mean, I don’t dislike it.”

“That’s a start.”

Henry’s fingers are slowly circling his pit again, making him arch his back as he tries to scoot away from them. “Fuck.” He’s toying with his armpit hair and Alex briefly wonders if it’s making it tickle less. If it will be torture once Henry properly goes for a spot which is hairless. He presses a kiss to the shell of Alex’s ear and moves his mouth downward, skipping his neck and stopping where his ribs start just below his other armpit. His other hand is still swirling around, and Alex is giggling again, but not yet hysterical.

“You smell so good,” Henry says into his skin and Alex laughs because each word tickles but also because he gets so easily flustered nowadays whenever Henry pays him a compliment. “I bet you’d taste even better.”

His tongue is on Alex’s ribs before he can protest and what the fuck, how can a fucking tongue tickle this much? He finds his own screaming ridiculous, but he can’t stop, his system on overload as he pulls and pulls and tries to twist away without being able to make it stop, heels digging into the mattress since they realized it would be better to use the second pair of cuffs to tie his arms far apart for less movement. Henry’s straddling his hips to keep him in place, knees squeezing him once as if to tell him it’s okay.

“W-wait,” he manages to choke out, hands gripping the bedpost so tightly he’s afraid he might actually damage it. “C-cornbread!”

Henry stops immediately, this time removing his hands and mouth entirely. “You’re doing so good, love. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just- fuck, your tongue is gonna kill me.”

“Oh?”

“Could you- just use your hands for a bit?”

“Of course.” He touches Alex’s cheek again, and this time Alex leans into the touch. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“Oh my god, don’t apologize, it was great. Fucking unbearable and freaky, but great.”

Henry laughs. “Freaky?”

“It’s wet and slimy and ticklish.”

“Noted- slimy? Now you’re just being rude.” He pokes Alex’s ribs once, visibly wondering if he would cross a line if he tickled him after Alex safe worded, but Alex rolls his eyes and indicates that it’s fine, and so Henry’s vibrating both his hands over his ribs and making his hips buck in surprise before laughter fills the room again, bouncing off the royal walls.

In the midst of it all he makes a list:

1. Henry knows exactly how to tickle each different part of him, from digging into his hips to featherlight touches to his thighs (as opposed to the stereotypical squeezes).

2. Henry has a thing for using his mouth to tickle him and Alex really doesn’t mind as long as his tongue isn’t involved too much.

3. If he’s tickled for long enough Alex surpasses his need to yell and laughs silently.

Henry stops once the room goes silent, afraid Alex is trying to say the safe word without being able to, and Alex has to swallow his pride and ask him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing.

When they switch places, after Alex has had more than one moment to collect himself again, he spends some time simply watching Henry squirm under his gaze, under him, unable to move away.

“I don’t have a note for this,” Henry admits and Alex laughs. “But I just want you to thank you for doing this. For not judging.”

Alex’s hand finds his hair. “Baby,” he coos. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”

Henry turns his head to kiss Alex’s wrist. “You know my safe word.”

“That I do.”

And Alex does exactly what Henry did to him, relishing in how he falls apart.

“Can I ask you something?” he says much later, when they’ve been curled up in bed for hours and their bodies have stopped being hypersensitive. “Have you… have you been teasing me about it because you wished I would tease you back?”

Henry’s ears pinken, but he doesn’t look away. “At first maybe. I found I didn’t know how to ask for it, but I saw that it affected you too and figured you’d want to get revenge either way.” He is stroking up and down Alex’s arm, his touch just firm enough to not be ticklish. “But then I noticed how you responded to it. How you tried to act indignant, but wouldn’t look me in the eye each time we saw each other after the notes started. How you would squirm when we facetimed. And it was too intriguing and lovely to not want to keep seeing it.”

Alex’s face is on fire, but he’s trying to be brave about it too. “It’s weird. I never even knew I was into this.”

“Sometimes a kink gets formed because someone you love enjoys it so much that you start associating it with pleasure and love and fun.”

“A kink, huh.” Alex doesn’t mind the thought of it. “I can understand if I would be into tickling you, but- well, me?”

Henry’s hand cups his face. “I’m sure you find it fun and safe and that’s why you’re willing to be on the receiving end too.”

“Maybe.”

Henry strokes his cheek. “We don’t always have to fully understand it. Sometimes just exploring is enough.”

And Alex, who is already wishing Henry would curl his fingers under his chin already, nods.

#tickling #ticklish!alex #ticklish!henry #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue fic #n writes #the white house letters #tickle fic

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hchollym · 10 months

Text

Percy Weasley & Fleur Delacour Parallels

I mentioned that Percy & Fleur have several similarities in this post, so I figured I would expand on that idea to show how the books demonstrate parallels between these two characters, because I love them both. 🥰

The Basics

They are both feminine (see the above linked post about Percy)

They are both described in similar ways by Harry:

Harry glimpsed Fleur Delacour from time to time in the corridors; she looked exactly as she always did, haughty and unruffled.

“I’ve told Mr. Crouch that I’ll have it ready by Tuesday,” Percy was saying pompously.

Neither of them fly/play Quidditch:

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.”

Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Harry had only seen Percy at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.

They both sing (though possibly not well):

Shortly after this, Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’, which was taken by everyone, once they had glimpsed Mrs Weasley’s expression, to be the cue to go to bed.

"...I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing . . . maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower, Harry.”

Family

They are both mother hens to their younger siblings:

Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank (“Gerroff, Percy, I’m all right!”); Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.

They both were outsiders with the Weasleys at one point (with some lovely name calling):

‘Whereas Bill and Fleur … well … what have they really got in common? He’s a hard-working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she’s –’ ‘A cow,’ said Ginny, nodding. ‘But Bill’s not that down-to-earth. He’s a curse-breaker, isn’t he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour … I expect that’s why he’s gone for Phlegm.’

“We tried to comfort her,” said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry’s portrait. “Told her Percy’s nothing more than a humongous pile of rat droppings —”

They both moved past their differences with the Weasleys around the time of a battle that they fought in (Battle of the Astronomy Tower & the Battle of Hogwarts):

‘Our Great Auntie Muriel,’ said Mrs Weasley after a long pause, ‘has a very beautiful tiara – goblinmade – which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Fleur stiffly. ‘I am sure zat will be lovely.’ And then – Harry did not quite see how it happened – both women were crying and hugging each other.

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Percy said. Mr. Weasley blinked rather rapidly, then he too hurried to hug his son.

Relationships

They both dated a Ravenclaw & snuck around Hogwarts to kiss them:

Fleur and Roger Davies had disappeared, probably into a more private clump of bushes.

“Well — Percy’s got a girlfriend.” Fred dropped a stack of books on George’s head. “What?” “It’s that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” said Ginny. “That’s who he was writing to all last summer. He’s been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day..."

Both of them had a partner that was attacked at Hogwarts, and Percy & Fleur were terrified for them:

As Professor McGonagall nodded, Harry felt Ginny move beside him and looked at her. Her slightly narrowed eyes were fixed upon Fleur, who was gazing down at Bill with a frozen expression on her face. ‘Dumbledore gone,’ whispered Mr Weasley, but Mrs Weasley had eyes only for her eldest son; she began to sob, tears falling on to Bill’s mutilated face.

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn’t seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned. “Percy’s in shock,” George told Harry quietly. “That Ravenclaw girl — Penelope Clearwater — she’s a prefect. I don’t think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect.”

They both act like a lovesick teenager over someone:

‘’E is always so thoughtful,’ purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose.

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.” Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.

“Mr. Crouch?” said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. “He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll . . .”

“Mr. Crouch!” said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

More About Their Personalities/Flaws

They both tend to brag about their accomplishments:

"...We ’ave all been ’oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!"

Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness that Harry thought it ought to be fined. “I’ve been promoted,” Percy said before Harry could even ask, and from his tone, he might have been announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe. “I’m now Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”

They both get jealous of Harry having special privileges:

“If anyone’s got reason to complain, it’s Potter,” growled Moody, “but . . . funny thing . . . I don’t hear him saying a word. . . .” “Why should ’e complain?” burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. “ ’E ’as ze chance to compete, ’asn’t ’e?!"

“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!”

When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend.

They both rant about criticisms of institutions/places:

Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies. “Zis is nothing,” she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. “At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we ’ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course . . . zey are like ’uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we ’ave choirs of wood nymphs, ’oo serenade us as we eat. We ’ave none of zis ugly armor in ze ’alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, ’e would be expelled like zat.” She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Sirius's escape. "If I manage to get into the Ministry, I'll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!" he told the only person who would listen -- his girlfriend, Penelope.

They both criticize other people on multiple occasions:

‘She ’as let ’erself go, zat Tonks,’ mused Fleur, examining her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon. ‘A big mistake, if you ask –’

In his eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat. ‘You are as bad as zat Tonks,’ said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. ‘She is always knocking –’

“Well, Father feels he’s got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn’t he?” said Percy. “If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first —”

“Oh Bertha’s hopeless, all right,” said Percy. “I hear she’s been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she’s worth..."

Silly Extra

On a funny note, when Fleur married Bill, he was the first Weasley sibling to tie the know, but Percy actually had the first reference to marriage out of all his siblings:

“I don’t reckon he’d come home if Dad didn’t make him. He’s obsessed. Just don’t get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch . . . as I was saying to Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Crouch is of the opinion . . . Mr. Crouch was telling me . . . They’ll be announcing their engagement any day now.”

🤣

In Conclusion

There's no real importance to these parallels; I just find them interesting! 😊

#percy weasley #fleur delacour #percy & fleur #percy weasley defense squad #fleur delacour defense squad #character parallels #hp #weasley family critical #to be safe #my thoughts #my opinion

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