#and my love for them is as big and genuine as their love for that Thing
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The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it?
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars.
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier.
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile.
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.”
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.”
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station.
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes.
“I see London, I see France…”
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display.
“Eddie!”
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple.
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-”
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent.
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you.
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side.
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you.
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.”
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?”
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him.
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek.
But that just makes his smile wider.
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you.
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door.
“Good afternoon, can I help you?”
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?”
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?”
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world.
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone.
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about.
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff.
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment.
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care.
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you.
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air.
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?”
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand.
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?”
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you.
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.”
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat.
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear.
“Good girl.”
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie.
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines.
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served.
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes.
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card.
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin.
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out.
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,”
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you.
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?”
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.”
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!”
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.”
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink.
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being.
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully.
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, shoot.”
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.”
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery.
“Oh princess, you are too cute.”
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks.
“What? What is it?”
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.”
“What, like, kissing?”
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.”
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer.
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?”
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar.
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.”
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now.
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together.
“Liar.”
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks.
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?”
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.”
“I know that, I mean…”
For a second he just gapes at you.
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?”
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.”
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?”
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing.
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?”
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.”
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.”
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand.
“Please?”
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment.
“Fine. Right now.”
“Oh I didn't-”
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.”
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him.
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes.
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely.
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs.
For a second you stop in sheer surprise.
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?”
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.”
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified.
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.”
“Eddie!”
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you.
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside.
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head.
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door.
“No, no, it's very… you.”
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious.
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar.
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-”
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.”
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.”
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway.
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if-
“You can sit down, princess.”
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet.
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you.
“No I- I was- maybe this-”
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle.
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.”
“But i haven't showered-”
“When did you last?”
“Well… this morning.”
“You're fine. Trust me.”
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together.
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart.
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.”
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns.
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?”
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head.
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra.
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?”
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck.
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.”
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.”
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.”
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.”
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.”
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair.
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.”
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes.
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip.
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need.
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him.
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?”
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear.
“Fuck, look at you.”
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms.
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?”
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him.
“Say it. You need to say it.”
‘Yes, please Eddie.”
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex.
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.”
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands.
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.”
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture.
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom.
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line.
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real.
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?”
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!”
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure.
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed.
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick.
“You OK princess?”
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup.
“Think you can go again?”
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?”
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling.
“I think you've got at least one more in you.”
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up.
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.”
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him.
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched.
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do.
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment.
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin.
“So? Good?”
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek.
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden.
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose.
“That's not part of the deal.”
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile.
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs.
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.”
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-”
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip.
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.”
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him.
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.”
“You'd probably like that,” you tease.
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.”
“Night Eddie.”
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down?
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions.
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything.
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond.
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head.
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements.
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs.
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example.
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more.
It looks like it's going to be a long night.
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.”
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine.
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth.
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table.
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early.
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly.
“Morning, can I help you?”
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you.
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile.
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID?
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride.
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?”
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles.
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself.
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting.
“You're not my 10:30.”
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong.
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder.
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter.
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.”
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?”
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes.
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves.
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda.
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear.
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.”
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat.
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?”
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension.
“Hey, keep it at home guys.”
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip.
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie.
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window.
“So, as I was saying-”
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red.
“I was only-”
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!”
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally.
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac.
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you.
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest.
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently.
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest.
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?”
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom.
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-”
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile.
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out.
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug.
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.”
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips.
“Really?”
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong.
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.”
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.”
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?”
“Of course I would. You got their number?”
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William.
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?”
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored.
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.”
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait.
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is- well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.”
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly.
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character.
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?”
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.”
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly.
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.”
“Eddie I already owe-”
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!”
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you.
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.”
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.”
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other.
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time.
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!”
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly.
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.”
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.”
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.”
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled.
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately.
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look.
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.”
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening.
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.”
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi
#ms gexy writes#ink shop eddie#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie x you#tattoo artist eddie munson#tattoo artist eddie#eddie x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female!reader#older eddie munson#older! eddie#older!eddie#stranger things imagines#stranger things#stranger things smut
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omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.
(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈
Into You ✦
Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.
You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.
So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.
When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.
“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?
Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.
It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”
And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.
Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.
The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.
Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.
You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.
What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.
She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.
At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.
You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.
He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.
You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.
Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.
“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.
You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.
“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?
“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?
“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.
But you'll keep in touch.. right?
—
You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?
He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.
You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.
Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.
He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.
—
He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.
Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.
You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.
Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.
“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.
Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?
After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.
You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.
By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.
You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.
Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.
Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.
Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.
You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.
“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.
“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”
“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.
“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.
No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”
“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.
“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.
—
He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.
It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”
—
errrm part 2 when 🤔
tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀
#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe imagine#sam monroe smut#i love sam monroe#sam monroe fanfiction#hayden christensen fanfic#hayden christensen star wars#anakin skywalker smut#rots anakin#anakin skywalker x you#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker
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i love the frat boys so imagine them taking care of muñeca whenever mig isn’t there (which is like never but let’s imagine)
“y/n !! what do you want for breakfast?”
“that’s not her name! it’s muñeca, glen!”
“do you want o’hara to kill you, man?!”
“yeah, well?! he isn’t here!”
dear lord it’s only 8 in the morning and she swears her head is about to explode,
miguel had to clock in at work early than usual, leaving his girlfriend at the house. as much as he hates the idea of it, he’s got no choice. not just the fact that he didn’t get the chance to have a lazy morning with her but also the fact that he’s leaving her with the boys, too.
he loves them but they could be a real pain in the ass and a major flirt, except for beck.
“just call me if one of them tries to do something with you, cariño— i love you”
it’s what he said before leaving,
not even an hour after he’s gone that his frat brothers are making her lose her mind with all the noise,
she sighs as she massages her temple, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee between hands. one that is made by glen, surprisingly tasting a bit better that what her boyfriend usually makes,
“guys! i’ll eat anything i swear—just please shut. up” she groans softly, pulling the hems of miguel’s thick knitted sweater that clings onto her body, protecting her from chilly morning air,
carlos shakes his head, arms crossed. “that is not an answer! what. do you. want. to. eat!”
“carlos! i swear to fucking—“
“banana bread maybe, or muffins? what does miguel usually get for you anyway? ah! matcha, isn’t it!” glen interrupts with a smile,
“oooh, how about a nice BLT? you know there’s a rookie here who knows how to make a mean BLT sandwich and you could hire him for the rest of your day to be your slave! just until miguel comes back” carlos suggests, ready to call whoever his name is
“oh my god, don’t say that word” she responds, taking another sip. “you are banned from using that”
“what, ‘hire’?” carlos looks genuinely confused,
she heaves out a heavy sigh, it’s like talking with children. “no. the S word” her eyes dart between the other guys who are looking like they’re ready to serve her with whatever it is she desires.
did miguel put them up to this?
“guys guys come on, she’s big enough to handle shit on her own” beck tells them, popping himself a canned of black coffee and she secretly thanks him for being the most logical one. “but just in case you want a croissant or something just let me know”
“i’ll pick something up from the bakery, just let me borrow your keys” she replies and getting ready to stand up, earning a collective of no’s and hands holding out to stop her. “you all realize that i’m not five?!” she’s getting a tad bit irritated,
“gotcha but!” carlos holds his point finger up, “we’re all instructed to take care of you—“
“no we didn’t?”
“chang, you’re ruining it, shut the fuck up” carlos glares at his asian frat brother who’s hands are up as if to show defense. “anyways—we are instructed to take care of you and if miguel finds out that we’re doing a terrible job at it, all of us are dead. literally”
“i think you’re just exaggerating, carlos” she tries to smile despite wanting to kill him. “he’s not capable of killing anyone”
“didn’t he get into a fight with two guys for staring at your ass and talking about how they’d use you at the same time?” glen chimes in, leaning forward on the kitchen table,
“that doesn’t count, it was not a fight, it was a slaughter. o’hara went apeshit” beck chuckles, taking a seat beside her,
“okay well that happened nearly months ago” she points out at the specific memory, one where she had to stop miguel from going overboard. she’d hate it if her boyfriend went to jail for what happened, “it’s all in the past”
“yeah well those two men are still on his black list” beck shrugs, “you know how serious he gets when it comes to you, kid”
she sighs for what it feels like a hundredth time that morning. “okay you know what, if it gets you all to be quiet, especially you carlos” she throws a soft glare at the man who’s wearing an innocent smile, standing tippy toes. “then just—can i please have that BLT sandwich? i am starving”
carlos claps his hands, “absolutely, you gorgeous human being! oi, rookie! get down here! muñeca needs breakfast!” he calls out the boy from downstairs,
“holy—carlos! why did i just tell you?!” beck snaps, narrowing his eyes at his frat brother,
“oh, my bad—i mean, mrs. o’hara needs breakfast!”
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siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.
(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)
- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.
- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.
- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.
- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.
- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.
- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.
- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!
- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.
- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.
- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.
- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)
- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)
- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.
this is the gender part
never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!
also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.
#desire mona#YAYYYYYYYY TODD AUTISM POST#do yall want a seperate autistic anderperry hc post cuz i can do that#genderqueer todd i love you so much#dead poets society#todd anderson#anderperry#the todd spectrum#actually autistic#banger
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•°. *࿐ Cookie monster || NH13
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : we can’t be friends (wait for your love - Ariana Grande
Nico Hischier x Reader
Synopsis: At the end of a get-together, your cookie jar always ends up empty. You hatch out a plan to catch whoever is eating all of the cookies. Not once, did it cross your mind that they might be your Swiss neighbor friend from across the hall.
Word count: 1.615
Masterlist
I’m a sucker for neighbor au’s. Anyway, not too happy with this one and it probably doesn’t make much sense. But it’s late, and it’ll do for now.
You wouldn’t say you have a ton of friends. You simply have a select few close ones. They range from being high school friends that you’ve known for years and kept in touch with, to friends you’ve made at work, to your hockey-loving neighbor. Truth be told, you’re not that big of a hockey fan. So it’s a miracle how you became such close friends in a short time. Nico likes to say that it’s nice to have a friend who barely knows anything about the hockey world. He likes the fact that he has a clueless friend in his life for when he wants to relax after a few tough games. Of course, he’s also glad to celebrate with you when he does have some smooth-sailing games. Even though you might not know what’s going on half of the time, you’re always genuinely happy about his achievements. This he appreciates a lot. He might even love you for that, but he won’t admit that to you.
Every time you hold a get-together at your apartment. You’ve noticed something peculiar. The jar of cookies you’ve set out for your friends to eat if they decide to come over is always empty after they visit. Now, you aren’t mad about this relegation. You are just curious about who is eating all of your cookies. You’re glad someone is enjoying your homemade cookies, but you'd like to know who this cookie monster is. It’s a small jar that can only hold a few cookies. So you don’t mind it that much. If anything, you think it’s quite funny.
You’re hosting another get-together after your last one, which was a few weeks ago. You’re determined to catch your cookie eater. You’re going to try to keep an eye on your jar while mingling with friends. You put some of the newest batch of cookies in the cookie jar and set it on your kitchen counter. Free for them to take. Shortly after the silence in the apartment gets interrupted by knocking at your front door. You wipe your hands while walking over. You open your door. A smile instantly spreads across your face. “Nico! It’s good to see you again!” You say happily as you usher him inside. He chuckles softly, sending a tingle through your body. Are you crushing on your Swiss neighbor? Definitely. You can’t deny that. But will you tell him? Absolutely. Not. You’d do anything for him. “It’s good to see you too. How have you been?” He asks and sits down on the couch. You shrug, “it’s been okay. Been busy recently, it’s great to have some free time on my hands again.” He nods. He’s about to say something before he gets interrupted by another knock on the door. You offer him a small smile. “Sorry about that.” He waves it off. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” Without needing to say more you let more friends in. With a quick hug and a quick exchange, everyone is sitting in your living room and conversing with one another.
You come out from the kitchen with drinks and some snacks on a platter and set it on the coffee table. You hop onto the couch next to Nico and join in on the conversation. Time flies by quickly, and before you know it you and Nico are the only ones left in your apartment. Nico looks at the time on his phone. “I think I should get going. I need to take care of some stuff.” He says and gets up from the couch. You follow suit. “Alright. You should come over sometime soon again. It’s been fun.” He nods and smiles. “Oh yeah, for sure. We’ll talk about it. You should come over to mine next time.” You nod. “We’ll talk about it.” You say your goodbyes and he leaves. You watch him enter the apartment across from yours. He gives you a small wave before he closes his door.
You shut your door and head to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention to the cookie jar like you said you would. You lay your eyes upon the jar, only to find it empty again. You sigh and grab the jar. You put it in the sink and clean it before storing it away again. So much for catching your cookie monster.
***
You’re holding once again another meet-up. You’re baking another batch of cookies to fill your jar. This time you have a solid plan. Some would say it’s foolproof. One by one your friends start piling in and welcoming themselves on your couch. Nico is the last to arrive this time. He apologises but you shrug it off. It's not a big deal to you. You’re just glad he was able to come. Everyone converses with each other again. You and Nico mainly talk with each other. The others don’t mind they encourage it. They know you have a thing for the 6 ft 1 Swiss hockey player. It’s as if it’s obvious to everyone but Nico. You stand up, “I’m going to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be back in a minute.” You tell him. He nods. “Alright. Go ahead.” You take that as your sign to set your plan in motion. You’re not going to the bathroom. You’re going to hide in the hallway, it has the perfect view of the kitchen. If you wait here long enough you’ll know who’s leaving your cookie jar empty.
Sure enough. A wandering Nico enters the kitchen. He sees your cookie jar. Some cookies have already been eaten by your friends. He grabs one and eats it. He smiles happily as he munches on them. He quickly eats one by one. They’re all gone in five minutes. He wipes his mouth to get rid of the crumbs and heads back to the living room. You’ve finally caught your cookie monster. It was oddly cute how he was scarfing down your cookies. You shake your head but can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re pleasantly surprised that Nico has been liking your cookies so much. You make a mental note to make another batch for him so that you can give him those the next time you go to his place.
You enter the living room. From a supposed bathroom break. You have a knowing grin on your face. Nico chuckles, “What’s that grin for?” He asks curiously. You shake your head, “nothing. I just came to a realization.” He doesn’t believe you, you can see that on his face. But he doesn’t pry you further. “Whatever you say, Schatz.” He has been calling you that a lot lately. You don’t have a clue what it means, and every time you bring it up he says it’s something they say back in Switzerland. He likes calling you that, and he has been doing that ever since he first slipped up.
Soon enough everyone leaves again. Before Nico leaves he turns to you. “Come over this weekend if you’re free. I’m going to be free. I won’t mind your company.” He says with a small smile. You let out a chuckle. “Sure I’ll come over. I’ll see you then. Is Saturday good?” He nods. “Perfect. See you then.”
***
Saturday comes quicker than you thought it would. You’re making another batch of cookies, this time it’s solely for Nico. Now that you know he has been eating them you work hard to make them perfect. You put dollops of cookie dough on the baking sheet and flatten them. You shove the cookies into the oven and set a timer of ten minutes. You clean up in the meantime. The timer goes off and starts beeping. You take the cookies out and let them cool for another ten minutes. After they cooled you put them in the jar again.
When it’s time to hop over to his place, you make sure to grab the jar and lock the door behind you. You cross the hallway and knock on his door. He opens and his eyes flicker down to the jar of cookies in your hands. He motions for you to come inside. He leads you to his living room and offers you to sit. You place the jar on his table. He looks at it and smiles at you. “It’s only us two tonight. You didn’t have to make them.” You give him a knowing grin. “I was starting to wonder where all my cookies went. I think it’s safe to say I found my cookie monster.” He stumbles over his words before you interrupt him with a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I find it rather endearing.” You point to the full cookie jar. “These are all for you. Just return the jar to me when you finish them.” He visibly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Although you didn’t have to.” You let out a small chuckle. “I don’t mind baking you more cookies if you like them.” He smiles. “If it isn’t too much trouble. I wouldn’t mind it.” He says softly. You nod determinedly. “Then more cookies are coming up for Nico Hischier.” You tease him a little. He lets out a boisterous laugh. He winks at you. “I’ll be waiting for them.”
You can’t help but feel like you’ve gotten closer, despite him being your cookie monster. And who knows? Perhaps tonight will be the extra push you need. One thing is for certain. Your feelings for the Swiss in front of you are blooming strongly into something more than just a silly crush.
#hockey#nhl#nhl fic#nhl hockey#nhl players#nhl x reader#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier imagine#nh13#new jersey devils#nj devils#fluff
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Proof of Usopp and Nami being Luffy’s vice/co captains? I would (genuinely!) love to see your thoughts and evidence, bc big agree
(Context:)
Hello anonymous tumblr-using friend!
As someone with a lot of knowledge of & a great passion for real-life historical piracy, I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about how the Strawhat crew would fit into an actual golden age crew structure. When I said "I have proof" I was jokingly referring to my knowledge of historical piracy and how the characters slot into those trends, not any sort of "in-anime/manga proof" of Usopp and Nami being ""co-captains"" with Luffy, so if that's what you're here for then sorry lol.
BUT if you want to learn a little about golden age western-world piracy, (and my "au" of sorts for how each crewmate would be recognized in that context,) stick around! :)
(extremely long explanation under cut LMFAO)
First off, as i said in my heated/j tags, "captain" did not usually mean what Oda makes it mean in OP's world. I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN Oda is just as passionate about & did plenty of research about historical piracy, and is clearly pulling a little from wakō history, but mostly from golden-age western piracy (specifically mostly the post-spanish succession period, to my estimation).
That being said. Why he puts so much emphases on Captains and First Mates is BEYOND me, because irl they were not as important.
The captain WAS important, don't get me wrong, but they weren't the sole reigning commander of a ship. They were more like a figurehead, most of the time. This is a sortof flimsy metaphor, but think of Captains like the modern-day king or queen of England; They're hyped up as the #1 leader, they're an important charismatic face for the group, and they technically have last-say on important matters, but they are beholden to two other groups (like the cabinet and the prime minister).
During the golden age of piracy, most crews were commanded by a group of three people. These three people were usually the Captain, the Quartermaster, and the Bosun. Each filled a different role on the ship, and all three were democratically elected by the crew. In all important matters, the three would discuss together how to proceed/solve the current problem, and though the Captain COULD overrule the other two at any time, that typically got him handily shoved overboard via mutiny. By technicality there was a heirarchy of power between the three stations, (with Captain usually being the top dog, then the Quartermaster, then the Bosun just above the rest of the crew,) but in practice they held equal sway in decisions that would effect the entire crew.
HOWEVER, outside of "big crew-wide decision-making moments" where you needed to assemble the three leaders, they didn't always have to coordinate. Depending on what situation the crew was currently in, one of them would be de-facto in charge of the crew, and the other two would step back unless the one currently in charge did something that needed to be challenged, like they made a bad decision or (in a more extreme case) broke the articles.
The Captain was in charge during times of battle. The captain's primary role was as a fighter, performer, and military commander! If the crew was attacked or about to attack someone else, the Captain would immediately take charge. (Now, real pirates weren't actually violent in practice as frequently as pop culture would have you believe, but that's a whole other topic. The reason "performer" is listed in the Captain's "jobs" is that part of their responsibility as a captain worth their salt was to scare enemies into surrendering without a fight through theatrics and reputation.)
The Bosun was in charge when the Boat was damaged or needed upkeep. The Bosun was not always the greatest carpenter or shipwright in their own right (in fact, in larger crews, they usually weren't either of those things), but they would be the one to get together with the shipwright and worksmen and assess damage, organize repair teams, and keep the boat running as well as possible. The crew followed their lead during repairs, and they were the go-to authority on any matters concerning the physical boat.
The Quartermaster was in charge the rest of the time. The way the Bosun is in charge of the physical boat, the Quartermaster was in charge of the crew. They were responsible for enforcing the articles, dealing out discipline, and the crew's general well-being outside of battle. In that same way that a bosun didn't have to be a shipwright, a quartermaster wasn't usually a doctor or cook, but they worked closely with them. Being in charge outside times of battle meant that the Quartermaster was also in charge of headings and navigation, and more often than not they were the ship's navigator, or head navigation/deck officer if their crew was large enough to have more than one nav. They also usually handled the crew's finances/pay and cargo. Is this starting to sound familiar yet.
So. After establishing the roles. I don't think I have to persuade you that while Luffy is most definitely the Strawhat Captain, Nami is our Quartermaster and Usopp is our Bosun. At the VERY LEAST this is true on the Merry Go.
You could possibly persuade me that Franky takes Usopp's place as Bosun once they get the Thousand Sunny, but I would be hard to convince. (I could be persuaded that Usopp loses his position as bosun on the Sunny, but Franky does not behave like a bosun as much as a head carpenter, and Usopp functions like his carpenter's mate. It's almost like, post-timeskip, they don't have a bosun anymore, and Zoro fills the newly empty position on the leadership trio?)
Now, these roles are not concrete, and they didn't always make up the "management trio" on a pirate ship. Some very small crews just didn't have enough people that they needed to single out their three favorite guys; they could just all vote on important decisions together. Sometimes the management trio included the surgeon or the first mate instead of the bosun. There were many crews where the Quartermaster was considered the top-dog highest authority instead of the Captain at all times. Even during the golden age pirate crews varied greatly, but the Captain/Quartermaster/Bosun trio was most common.
As for the ship hierarchy, there was a trend you could rely on no matter who the "three leaders" were. Everyone was generally considered of equal importance on a crew, (hence the elected offices and avenue for mutiny,) but there was a chain of command of sorts? Or at least people who would be shown greater respect and responsibility based on what they provided for the crew:
Captain and/or Quartermaster
Bosun and/or Surgeon/Doctor, and sometimes the First Mate
Everybody else, including captain's other mates.
Speaking of Captain's Mates... On larger crews, every important role on the ship had a "mate," or an apprentice chosen by the person in question to replace them if they should die, or otherwise be out-of-commission. Quartermaster's Mate. Bosun's Mate. Doctor/Surgeon's Mate. Carpenter's Mate. Etc. However, the Captain had MULTIPLE MATES, because his job was front-line combat focused. Ergo, he could easily die and need a replacement. Quickly. And his replacement could need a sudden replacement! So, depending on the size of the crew, the captain could have anywhere from two to eight mates, who were ranked by number. That's why the captain's highest-ranking mate is called the First Mate. Because there was usually a Second Mate. And then some more of em.
The First Mate's job is to be a good ass fighter, and back the Captain up on whatever they're currently doing. They hype the Captain up and enforce the Captain's decisions, no matter what that decision is. This is why they were usually not put in the management trio on most crews, cause you could imagine. The conflict of interest. (There's supposed to be three of them so that no one member has too much sway. Which could be sabotaged if two of the three are captain and captain's favorite soldier LMFAO)
I have no idea why, in the world of One Piece, all of the emphasis seems to be on Captains as the end-all-be-all leaders of their ship and the First Mate as the second in command. Especially when Oda clearly KNOWS about the other roles, since he's written characters that fall into them like perfect puzzle pieces!
...Well, okay, I have some idea. This is a shonen series for teens and being the captain/king/etc is wish fulfillment, and wouldn't be as cool for the projecting readers if you were part of a leading council with two other mooks. But. I can still be salty about it LMFAO <3
#These roles put Usopp's objection over scrapping the Merry in a slightly new light huh? :) /j#i love pirate lore#thank you whoever's here for reading my long ass pirate history rant#i love you for indulging my hyperfixation muah <3
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Red Wine
Red Wine
Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List <3
Remus Lupin x Reader
A/n: I lowkey hate this but it was inspired by the image of Sirius Black loving tequila and me thinking that all the muggle born students watching the others get drunk without it touching them was hilarious. This is based in their 7th year.
Summary: Muggle drinks and muggle drinking games.
Warnings: Drinking, mentions of underaged drinking, swearing, kissing, jealousy, fake ID
Word Count: 2232
(NOT MY GIF)
"Psst! Y/n! Over here!"
I spun my head around to see Christopher Adam's waving me over from the corner of the room, pointing enthusiastically at the plastic bag in his hands.
I smiled back at him and nodded enthusiastically.
"I'll be back now." I said to Sirius, who was spinning me around to the ABBA song playing before Chris had interrupted us.
"What does he want?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow "You got a new boyfriend or something?" He laughed slightly as I rolled my eyes and just walked away from him.
Me and some of the other muggle born students were starting to find these Gryffindor parties boring after the summer.
After partying at home with muggle drinks the classic fire whisky and witches brew just wasn't doing anything for us anymore, as funny as it was watching the pure and half bloods get extremely drunk so fast there's only so many parties you can do sober.
Hence Christopher.
A small group of us had gathered our money together and convinced Chris to use one of his approved trips to visit home to stop by a muggle store and complete a shopping list.
It took us a week to make him a fake ID good enough for him to pass as eighteen.
"So? How'd it go?" I asked, smiling brightly at him as I took the bag out of his hands.
"No hassle with the ID, although I did have to go to four stores so I didn't look suspicious buying this much alcohol for everyone." He rolled his eyes with a laugh.
"You're a lifesaver, we all owe you big time. Thank you!"
He just waved me off and I happily ran back over to the boys with the bag in my arms.
They were all giving the an identical look of speculation as I approached.
"What have you done?" James asked, trying to grab the bag off me before I pulled back.
"Why do you assume such little from me! I've gotten you all presents. Muggle presents actually."
Sirius perked up at that, excitedly shaking Remus's shoulders. Causing him to lean the other way with a smile.
"I'm about to show you all how muggles drink, because fire whisky is nothing in comparison. I've got fuck loads of things to share but I tried to get each of you something I thought you'd like."
"So it's alcohol?" Peter asked, now it was him having to push an excited Sirius away.
"Yep! For you Peter, gin. We don't have any tonic so drink it with lemonade, I think you'll like it though." He smiled widely as I handed him the rounded bottle, quickly opening it to smell it.
"It smells nice?"
"Yeah not all alcohol needs to smell like straight ass." I laughed nodding to the fire whisky in his other hand.
"James I've got you some muggle beers. I genuinely think this will change your life." I said with a laugh, handing him over the six pack as he looked at it bewildered.
"Like butter beer?"
"Kinda? Just a lot less sweet."
He nodded with a smile and popped the top of the bottle off, his smile growing as he tasted it.
"This is alcoholic?"
I laughed at him and turned to Sirius who looked like he was about to explode if I didn't show him what else was in the bag.
"Sirius I got you some tequila. There's some lime and salt on the table over there, you'll want them to take a shot. Lily will show you, she's been looking forward to it all night."
He took the bottle off me with a smirk before quickly hugging me from behind, placing an exaggerated kiss on the side of my face before running off.
"Thank you!"
I laughed at him, and watched James follow after him after a mention of Lily, Peter as always followed behind James.
"I hope you got yourself something, you're way too generous."
Remus said, sitting up on the table next to me with a soft smile.
"Oh don't worry I did." I reached to pull the large bottle from the bag "Some good old fashioned vodka for me."
He laughed at me and sniffed the bottle I held out in front of him, recoiling back.
"It smells horrible." He said with a laugh.
"That's how you know it's strong." I replied, coughing hard as I took a sip from the bottle. "I should probably mix it with some coke."
He laughed at me for a minute, nodding "Yeah, probably a good idea. I'll go get you some."
I placed an arm in front of him as he went to move to stop him.
"Not so quick Lupin, didn't think I'd forget you did I?"
"You didn't have to get me anything." A small blush covered his cheeks, reassuring me that I made the right call with getting him something.
"That's why you're my favourite."
"Wow I always thought Sirius was your favourite." He replied with a chuckle.
"Yeah well don't tell him, it would crush him."
He continued to laugh as I pulled the bottle of red wine out of my bag, passing it over to him.
"I think you'll like it, not as strong as the others but you'll enjoy it."
He looked over the bottle inquisitively.
"Thank you, I'll go pour myself a glass and grab you that coke." He smiled warmly at me, squeezing my knee as he got up.
My eyes followed him across the room, I smiled as I watched him interact with an already drunk Sirius who was shouting about the impressive feat of muggle alcohol.
"You're drooling." Mary said from behind me, causing me to jump and hit her in the arm.
"Shut up."
~~~~~
"So you've all been enjoying the muggle drinks, how about a muggle game to go with it!" Marls shouted from the middle of the room, clearly drunk.
A large group slowly made their way into a circle on the floor as Marls enthusiastically went around the room trying to gather a large enough group.
Remus groaned as I pulled him off the wall he was leaning on and led him towards the floor, an obvious smile on his face.
"Ok so you spin the bottle." She giggled while placing one of James's now empty beer bottles into the middle of the group. "You and whoever it lands on go into the broom cupboard for seven minutes. What happens is there is up to you." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively whilst laughing as the game began.
As the circle slowly made its way around I found myself hunched over onto Remus in a fit of laughter at Sirius and Peters faces as they came out of the cupboard looking very unamused.
As the group calmed down Sirius took his seat back next to me in the circle and most eyes moved towards me.
I giggled awkwardly before leaning forward and spinning the bottle as hard as I could.
As I lent back and watched it spin I silently prayed that it would land on the boy sat next to me who seemed to be avoiding my eye contact as everyone made a drum roll sound around us.
Much to my dismay instead of landing on Remus the bottle instead pointed towards the one and only James Potter whose face went bright red.
I laughed softly and stood up, watching him as he followed. The room whistling as we made our way into the small space.
If it wasn't gonna land on Remus James would've probably been my second choice, he was to in love with Lily to ever make a move on someone else. And I felt the same way about our best friend.
"So this isn't awkward." I joked with a smile.
He just half way laughed in response.
"Everything okay?" I asked, my eyes adjusting in the dark to make out his figure.
"Yeah it's stupid, Lily's just been avoiding me all night. I know I make a fool of myself for her but sometimes I just wish that she would just look at me." He sighed, leaning against the wall.
"Maybe she is and you're just not seeing?"
"Trust me, I'd see." He sadly laughed and I patted his shoulder comfortingly before getting an idea.
"I've got a way that would get her to look at you."
He turned to look at me with what I guessed was a confused expression.
I reached up to unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt.
"Whoa Y/n what are you doing?"
I laughed slighting at him, shaking my head.
"No I'm not doing that, trust me."
I reached up to ruffle my hand through his hair to make it messier, then moving to untuck one side of his shirt.
"Yeah she'll look at me if I look like shit. Is that the plan?" He laughed slightly and I softly hit him with the back of my hand.
I messed my own hair up as well, also shifting my clothes so they were slightly askew.
"Jealousy is the plan James."
It seemed to click with him then and despite the dark I could see the red blush on his face.
"You really think that'll work?"
"I hate to say it but if one thing will make her notice you, it's thinking that you might've noticed someone else. I'm also really drunk so this might be a bad plan."
He laughed at me, covering his mouth to try and stay quieter.
"I'm drunk enough to give it a go." He responded with a smile.
"Last touch." I reached up to move his glasses to sit crooked on his face with a laugh.
"There, perfect. Let's get you your lady."
As I spoke there was a knock at the door, and a second later Sirius Black swung them open.
"Merlin! Didn't see that happening." He said with a laugh, looking between us in disbelief "I always thought you were into Moony Y/n."
James punched him softly in the arm, shaking his head and I just walked past silently, trying to shake the blush off of my face and hoping everyone was just ignoring the obviously drunk pure blood.
I made my way back over to the circle but before I could sit back down Remus had already stood from his spot next to me and walked out of the common room with his bottle of wine.
~~~~~
I'd been wandering the castle grounds looking for Remus for the last thirty minutes.
The party had died down and everyone was so drunk most of them had passed out by now.
I was buzzed enough that the cold wasn't bothering me but I couldn't for the life of me figure out where Remus would've gone.
I sat on the floor against the railing as I finally got to the top of the astronomy tower, the vodka and the amount of stairs I just climbed had knocked the wind out of me.
"Y/n?"
A familiar voice said from next to me, making me jump.
"Jesus, I've been looking for you." I smiled at him but he only held my eye contact for a second before looking back out to the night sky.
"You disappeared, it got boring without you."
He laughed slightly and shook his head, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.
"I'm sure it was fine without me. You and James sure didn't look bored." He chuckled awkwardly making me quirk an eyebrow at him.
"What? Me and James?"
He just nodded, avoiding my eyes.
"James definitely isn't bored, Lily's been all over him all night." I laughed softly and he just looked at me inquisitively.
"Aren't you upset by that?"
"Upset? Why would I be upset? Honestly I think it's a miracle."
He laughed slightly at that and finally looked back over to me.
"But you and James were snogging each other? Was that just a joke or something?"
I just looked at him confused for a second before breaking out into giggles.
"Oh you didn't actually think we did that? Gross no! I just thought that it would make Lily jealous. It worked by the way."
He seemed to think for a second before a small smile finally made its way onto his face.
"Oh, so you didn't actually kiss him?"
I snorted, covering my face quickly in embarrassment.
"No no, I just messed up his hair and unbuttoned his shirt a little. He's not my type."
Remus laughed quietly at that, relaxing a little.
"Good."
I nudged him lightly with my elbow, sliding over to sit next to him, bumping our knees together.
"Careful Lupin it almost feels like you're jealous."
He just looked at me for a second, a little smile on his face as he moved to stand up, offering me his hand.
"Maybe I was." He chuckled softly and pulled me to my feet as I just looked at him dazed.
"C'mon I'll walk you back to your dorm." He threaded our fingers together and went to walk but I didn't move.
"I wanted the bottle to land on you, for the record."
We both stood there for a second, just looking at each other before he grabbed my chin softly and lent down.
I never really liked the taste of red wine until that night.
#x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#harry potter#marauders x reader#sirius black#marauders#marauders era#hogwarts#james potter#reader insert#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x slytherin!reader#remus x reader#remus lupin
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Reviewing tgcf characters because I have thoughts
I finished S2 recently and I need somewhere to put my not exactly hot but like warm (?) takes because it's taking up too much storage space in my brain.
🤍 Xie Lian 🤍
It's a good thing I'm not into guys because if I was I would be on my knees for this man in every sense of that expression and his pet menace to society would mince me up like garlic.
So I'll try to be brief about my overflowing feelings about him. Xie Lian is the best main character I have come across in a WHILE. He's the embodiment of compassion and kindness. And also a cold blooded murderer. A babygirl. A father figure. A terrifying martial god. A silly little guy. A pathological liar. The most genuine man you'll ever meet. He's everything, and Hua Cheng is 100% valid in his obsession. I'm right there with him.
Rating: 10/10
❤️ Hua Cheng ❤️
Idk if we ever figured out who wrote My Immortal but I'm pretty sure we have our culprit.
"Hi my name is Hua Cheng Crimson Rain Sought Flower Red-Robed Ghost King and this is my evil weapon of death E-ming. I've killed soooo many gods with it!! My dark power is I can summon storms of BLOOD and SUFFERING. I have my own scary city of DEMONS and they all love me and think I'm HOT but I only want my BOYFRIEND who's the only REAL GOD so STOP FLAMING HIM YOU POSERS-"
Needless to say I love him. Being the 8 time winner of the Loverboy of the Century Awards with unbeatable records in the yearning olympics is truly a remarkable feat.
Rating: 9/10
(Bonus: E-ming. Cute little guy. Likes his stepdad more than his real dad. Not afraid to show it's feelings even if it makes it look like a muppet, 10/10)
🧡 Feng Xin & Mu Qing 🧡
Tweedle dee and tweedle dum gets a shared rating because they would hate to be grouped together like that and that's funny to me. Their dynamic is great, they're good characters, I wasn't sure which one was which until midway through the second season. But then also I have a pair of 7yo twin cousins who I still can't tell apart despite them not looking even a slight bit similar so that might just be a character flaw on my end. Oops.
Rating: 7/10
🩵Shi Qingxuan🩵
I'm doubling the rating because she is best boy and best girl at the same time. I love that I can use any and all pronouns for him because he's literally a pride parade personified and therefore all of them are correct. You don't get that type of chaotic fun just anywhere.
He is truly living my dream, presenting as whatever gender they want depending on what's more convenient and/or funnier in the moment. Super useful, for things like gathering intel and terrorizing Feng Xin by being a woman.
And I personally think we should crown her the new emperor. She'd look significantly better on that throne, with her Barbie-like radiance and flourishing Kenergy.
Rating: 20/10
🖤 Ming Yi 🖤
Listen, I hate to say it because I like a sunshine x grump moment as much as the next gay but he's just... not giving what he thinks he's giving. Everyone is whispering ominously about him having some dark devastating secret but MY point is no matter how big his boobs are in his female form, Shi Qingxuan could do better. I'm sorry. She really could.
Rating: 4/10
💙 Lang Qianqiu 💙
Just an honest man with good intentions and a sickass fucking sword. He did NOT hesitate to attack the infamous Crimson Rain Sought Flower on SIGHT and I respect a quick decisionmaker, even if it shows some himbo tendencies. He also has the same distinct energy as Fred from Scooby Doo.
Rating: 6/10
💚 Qi Rong 💚
He's got some odd dietary and moral choices going on. Definitely. But he's just such a fun villain!!! Being Xie Lian's nr 1 source of migraines SHOULD make me like him less but I'm sorry, every time he was on screen I was LIVING. He would do numbers on reality TV. Someone put this guy on Kitchen Nightmares, I need to see him 1v1 Gordon Ramsay.
Rating: 7/10
🌚 Jun Wu 🌚
He has his emperor status & DILF card going for him but something about this man just ain't right. If he came to a party I was attending I would cover my drink is all I'm saying.
Rating: 2/10
🔥Pei Ming🔥
I don't know much about him besides he had that one shady empolyee or whatever (could not hear the plot over the deafening sound of Hua Cheng's yearning) but I'm partial to a good manwhore character. The thought of people praying to him like "Hugh Mungus, who art in heaven-" really tickles me.
I know he's probably straight but I headcanon him as at the very least bi-curious because you can't be that hot with that much game and not use it for evil. (That evil being causing large scale gay awakenings among his soldiers.)
Rating: 7/10
❓Pei Xiu❓
Unreliable, unimportant, unattractive, unemployed.
I remember not a singular thing about him besides fucking up Xie Lian's daughter's life and also being on my last nerve from the jump. If you're going to be evil at like least be memorable about it, you know? You can't be a bad person and a bad character at the same time. Pick a struggle.
Rating: 1/10
📚 Ling Wen 📚
I heard she committed some war crimes but honestly if I had to do an entire realm's tax returns by myself AND teach Pei Ming how to read (I refuse to believe that man is literate, just look at him) I would want to rage on occasion too. I hope she has a hot wife waiting for her at home to give her massages after carrying the whole system on her back all day. It's what she deserves.
Rating: 8/10
Thank you for reading!! Opinions might change once I read the books but as of now this is it. Remembering everyone's names has been a journey and a half so this post is sponsored by @kirstenly 's character cheat sheet go look at it! and everything else too!!!
#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#tgcf#xie lian#hua cheng#feng xin#mu qing#shi qingxuan#ming yi#lang qianqiu#qi rong#jun wu#pei ming#pei xiu#ling wen#sorry for the long post#im just obsessed
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I saw your requests were open and was wondering…..
What kinda of nicknames do you think the bayverse turtles would use for their s/o? Do you lean more towards the cute talk or a form of their s/o’s name? Do you think the turtles would use these nicknames anytime, or just in private one on one moments? 🤔 also, do you think they’d get flustered if their s/o gave them a nickname? (Alright. Sorry that last one was fishing. I know they would get flustered 🤣, but I also wanted to see what type of nicknames for them you like)
I hope you can have fun with this one! :D
yorshie my dear i love it when you come into my askbox and spoil me 🥰 nicknames are one of my favorite topics, and so are the bayverse boys! Let’s discuss.
Leonardo: Leo goes for more whimsical nicknames. He doesn’t have a lot of that in his life, whimsy and sweetness, so he gets it where he can. Blossom is one I used recently. My heart. Honeybee. Pretty bird. Princess if you’re lucky. If he’s in a teasing mood he’ll call you something sticky sweet like honeybunch or cinnamon bun. All of this is in private though, Leo is a deeply private turtle and not a fan of PDA. If you’re with his family and friends he’ll stick to a form of your name or just honey if you’ve done something to make him especially soft.
In bed, now. In bed. Pretty girl. Sweetheart. Mine.
As for nicknames for him, he’ll melt into a pile of goo if you call him sweetheart as you kiss him on the cheek. Call him ‘my hero’ when he gets something down from a high shelf for you and he’ll give you that bashful smile. But really, he likes it best when you just call him Leo. Especially when you whine it into your pillow as he- [is shot]
Raphael: Princess. Shorty. Sweetheart. They start out as teasing or even condescending nicknames, and slowly morph into genuine terms of endearment as he falls in love. He doesn’t care who hears him call you these names either. You’re his, and he wants everyone to know it. Raph is the kind of person who prefers a few well-used terms over variety, so he doesn’t really add any terms of endearment when you get together. However, if you catch him just right he’ll call you ‘my love’ in private.
In bed, it’s sweetheart, babygirl, or baby.
He loves being big and strong, so he loves it when you make him feel big and strong. Big Red. Hunk. If you call him something silly like ‘Mr. Muscles’ he’ll scoff but hide a pleased smile. You’re allowed to call him something like Raphie or Raph-a-doodle, but only in private. Call him handsome, though, and it’s a one-way ticket to Meltsville, population Raph.
Donatello: I know it’s very popular in the fandom for him to use dove. It’s cute, I don’t mind it, but personally I don’t see him using that. Donnie is the kind of turtle to use the more traditional nicknames most often. Dear. Darling. Hon. Sweetie. If he’s feeling especially fond he’ll use ones with a more whimsical and celestial bent. Starlight. Moonbeam. Sunshine. Like Raph, he’ll use these terms at any time. However, he also likes using your name, in full. There’s nothing else that encapsulates you quite as well as your name.
In bed, he still sticks with the traditional. Baby. Darling. Love. Good girl.
Like Leo, Donnie likes it when you call him by his name. Donnie or Donatello works just fine for him. He is very fond of his name. But secretly, he loves it when you unconsciously parrot whatever nickname he just used back at you. i.e. “How was your day dear?” “Better now that I’m with you dear.”
Michelangelo: I’ve spoken a bit about my mans before, here. He’s a big fan of nicknames, and will use a variety. He loves coming up with new, silly nicknames. Angelcakes, of course. Banana muffin. Cupcake. My personal favorite, Starburst. He’ll also use any he hears his brothers using or hears on TV. Mikey’s always looking for inspiration for new names to call you. If he can find one related to your interests, like songbird if you love to sing, he’ll use that one frequently. He uses them all the time, anywhere, even when referring to you when you’re not there. Sometimes you wonder if he actually knows your name. (He does. He just wants to make sure he has your attention.)
In bed, he likes to use babe and baby a lot. Gorgeous. Babygirl. My love if he’s feeling sappy.
Mikey doesn’t really care what you call him, but he loves it when you match his energy. Get in a cute little contest where you try to outdo each other with the most ridiculous nickname, and he’ll have the time of his life. He does like variations on his name. Mikey, Mike, Mikes, Mikester, any variation will get him to grin at you.
#thank you yorshie i love your asks#talking tag#theory tag#tmnt#bayverse leo#bayverse raph#bayverse donnie#bayverse mikey
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176.
Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.
It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.
He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.
"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."
Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."
"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"
"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"
Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"
"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."
Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."
"Big assumption," snorts Soren.
"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"
He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."
"Good gods."
"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."
Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"
"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."
Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."
(And he does).
#inspired by that one post of Soren and his toy dragon <3#i also know that callum stitches an antimagic blanky so i imagine he can also fix a plush dragon#also also i specifically did not name the mother of sorens children but if you know you know#(the twins belong to raayllum)#rayllum#(tangentially)#in anticipation
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I like to think that Tim’s parents never let him grow his hair out and when he moves into Wayne manor he’s mildly terrified that they’ll make him cut his hair too, and is amazed when they don’t. He damn near has a panic attack the first time someone sees that it’s getting long and asks if he wants to get it cut. But they never make him cut it, not even when it’s long enough put in a ponytail.
I have this fic scene in my head where someone, maybe Damian once he’s warmed up to Tim, starts bleaching his hair in his sleep as a prank and he has a full blown panic attack. He attacks the heck out of whoever’s doing it and starts hyperventilating when someone grabs him and holds him back.
ok i love long hair!tim as much as the next person (fuck batman: arkham knight) but oh do i love the idea that he never really gets to explore that part of himself until he moves into wanye manor.
like imagine you've got this poor little kid, who's terrified of so many things that he should just. not be scared of (tim w/no rational fears + tim w/all the non-rational fears). retaliating to a suggestion of a haircut being one of them.
he's moved into this new place where the people are more accepting and willing to show love than anyone in his life has ever been. he's slowly but surely learning to undo all the past notions he holds about what would happen if he 'disobeyed' or made honest mistakes. but among the few things he just can't let go off, it's this whole thing about his hair.
so when bruce makes some offhand comment about 'we should probably take you to the barbers at some point' and tim completely freezes next to him, he stops and asks '..do you want to get your hair cut?' and when tim can't even open his mouth to give his honest answer, bruce just shrugs his shoulders and says 'no big deal, just let me or alfred know if you ever do'. tim is gobsmacked.
his head reels wondering why he wasn't scolded for not agreeing, or had his silence taken as 'wanting to look feral', and reprimanded for that as well. i don't think he really accepts it as completely okay right then and there though.
he takes it more a warning that they're noticing his hair's length, and that it will certainly need to be cut when they pay enough attention to see it again. so he styles it to look as short as he can get it, and wears a lot of hats for the time being. until one day when it's well and truly at his shoulders, alfred comments 'your hair looks nice today master timothy', and it takes tim just more than a split second to realise the compliment was genuine. i think that's when he lets the fear go.
although that doesn't stop him from freaking out when a villain's weapon slices through or yanks out some of his hair, or when he's in a vulnerable enough state (tired, hurt, etc) and someone mentions cutting his hair. the fear might not be there constantly lingering in the back of his head anymore, but it definitely pops up when he least expects it to.
#big fan of a tim who's oh so aware of manipulation tactics from his dad and has a problem with convincing himself any interaction he has#with anyone involves some level of manipulation#so he thinks bruce being so nice about hair cuts is just a scare tactic to force him into it. or use the conversation against him#anyways#i think the potential of trauma responses for the batboys is severely under-explored in the comics#ted talk over#asks#writtenreblogs#!!!!!!!!!!!!!#tim drake#batman#bruce wayne#red robin#robin#batboys#dc batman#dc comics#dcu#dc#gothihop speaks
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So, I’ve been thinking.
Buck has some seriously bad taste in girlfriends over the course of these glorious 6 seasons, before he decides to see if the other side can bring some light in. I mean, all of the women he has seriously dated had some strong likable qualities to them and they all wanted what’s best for Buck (I’m trying at my own share of optimism here). I think, from all of them, Abby was his most successful one (before it obviously crashed and burned and shattered his big wonderful heart). It had something none of the other ones had. Acceptance and honesty. Abby accepted his job, listened when Buck was caught up into his head about the stresses of the job. Buck accepted her problems with her mother and helped her through while she was alive and for a good time after she passed. Buck was honest with her, as she was with him. They had been through their fair share of trials and tribulations. Up until she left for Europe, I honestly liked them together.
Once they’re officially over, all the other relationships he has either miss one or the other.
Ali couldn’t get over the dangers Buck was open to while on the job.
Taylor fully accepted his job, even was honest and genuine with him at some point. Buck didn’t reciprocate either. He couldn’t get over her intense ambition for every new story she could use to her benefit (to which she obtained by breaching his trust, both when they first met and when they were well into their relationship). He wasn’t open with her, again, in many circumstances. Even cheated on her with Lucy, for whom he didn’t have any sort of feelings other than attraction. When you get drunk, the truth comes out. There’s no devil, just a complete lack of self-restraint. If Buck truly loved her, which we know he didn’t, since her answer to her confession was literally “Good.”, getting drunk should’ve confirmed his affections, not completely contradict them. Buck, seems like an affectionate and happy drunk, since that’s who he is. If he loved Taylor, we should’ve gotten a sequence in which he calls her and starts spitting dramatic declarations or even comes home to her because when you love someone, they’re your home. Your instinct is to go them, not kiss the next person you see. Then, he lies, once he gets to his apartment, after this ‘mistake’. And asks her to move in. Because he got nervous. He couldn’t be honest with her. When they found out, they brushed it off quickly, never to be mentioned again. As if they wore both scared. They break it off, eventually, after a story that should’ve remained private made the headlines. It was an important breach in trust, but it shouldn’t have been enough for Buck, considering how loyal he is (just look at how much he waited for Abby). But it didn’t need to be too much, since there wasn’t anything too significant or tethering between them to begin with.
Natalia was fascinated by his death, which was an instant message that this wasn’t going to last in any way, shape or form. Buck is also dishonest with her, about Lucy and his history with her, again. We can understand this, it shines a bad light on him if he confesses he has cheated before, but didn’t he say she sees him? Shouldn’t that bring out at least some kind of easiness into ending up saying the truth? Apparently not.
We can see why the majority dislike Buck’s choices in the women he dates long-term. Ali and Natalia never get fleshed out. Abby and Taylor do and you, as a watcher, can even sympathize with them, but they both end up really hurting Buck. So, what can you do? Settle for what the show gives you? Fandoms don’t do that, especially when they aren’t satisfied.
Okay, so who reaches those two requirements and is constantly present in Buck’s life, who is properly fleshed out? You guessed it.
Drumrolls, please.
Eddie.
Do we even have to talk about acceptance? Come on.
Eddie has been here since season 2. Through a near death experience, then another one, then a lawsuit and then another one (there’s a lot, enough to fill a whole card-based game). Buck has also had to suffer through two of those near-death meetings with Death that Eddie has had. They’ve fully had each other’s backs within the first 48 hours of meeting one another. Honesty between them is natural and that is expressed in a lot of scenes. To list a few, we have Eddie having panic attacks when he thinks of committing to Ana. He goes and talks about it with Buck and Bobby and then breaks it off with her. Secondly, when Eddie finds about the fates of his army friends and destroys his bedroom through a fit of rage brought on by helplessness and fear. A very vulnerable state to be in (let’s be honest, how many damn people have seen Eddie cry his eyes out?). Buck goes in, listens to him, gives him advice and we later see them both patching up his wrecked bedroom walls. Thirdly, we have Buck going to his house to get some reprieve from the constant worry his friends have for him, knowing that he won’t be pushed here, but comfortably accompanied. He falls asleep immediately (let’s ignore couch theory before I go bonkers). That’s both of them expressing vulnerability and raw honesty. More than they’ve done with any lover, no matter how fleshed out.
There’s clearly an answer here. We’re going to wait until they find it.
#911#911 show#911 abc#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buck buckely#taylor kelly#Abby#they’re in love your honor#I quite fucking literally don’t make the rules#I’m given facts#I analyze#I come to a conclusion#this is what the show is giving me]#911 what’s your emergency#911 fox#911 season 6#the brainrot is real#buddie brainrot
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i love being cared for and spoiled just as much as the next lesbian, but it's so important to do the same for the other person in the relationship.
helping them out when they've had a bad day, give them a shoulder to cry on or a neck to hide their face in, reassure them that they'll be ok no matter how much the world feels like it's crashing down on just them and them alone. or if they're not that much into physical touch, just lending an ear helps. even if you can't give them great advice, just being there and letting them get their bad day off their chest says a lot, and it means even more. and some people don't like to talk about their bad days. that's ok too. sometimes it's just space that they need but sometimes they just need to be distracted from their bad day. indulge in some of their favorite hobbies with them, watch a comfort show/movie of their's, cook them their favorite meal.
remembering the little things and doing them just because. adding in small details that you've remembered they hold so dear to their heart for whatever reason. it always feels good to know you're actually being listened to.
can we pls normalize femmes paying for stuff? just a little bit???? please queens/kings????? listen guys, i'm not complaining if you want to take care of me financially, i am a broke bitch! but WHEN i do have money, (not very often😞) at least let me buy you some ice cream with it or SOMETHIN'- PLEASE! i know ice cream isn't a super big responsibility but it's always felt weird to me seeing the relationship dynamic where one person supports themselves and their partner financially, and the partner doesn't even reciprocate it occasionally???? THIS IS NOT ME DEMONIZING THIS LIL DYNAMIC OR WTV, i just personally do not vibe with it. but do whatever makes you happy, bbgs. i know there are other ways of taking care of someone other than supporting them financially but i'd love to even be able to do it just once in a while, if not all the time. (all the time is not likely bcs once again i can't save money for shit....)
i know i mentioned this for like five seconds in my first or second lil paragraph but cooking is such a reassuring thing to do. cooking someone their favourite meal or just any meal is a love language that we look past too often and i am sick of it!!!!! (this is coming from someone who tried to make homeade hamburger helper with burrito beef two nights ago btw... don't look at me.) it's such a quiet way of love admittance. but then genuineness is there and it's abundant. mostly if your partner is of culture, i bet that would be an amazing and quite heartwarming surprise for them to see. (meow:3)
i could go on and on and on about reciprocity but it's 2am and i don't feel like writing anymore...
⁻ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᶦⁿᵒʳ, ᵐᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵈⁿᶦ ᵃᶜᶜˢ ᵈⁿᶦᵎ
#lesbian#femme lesbian#femme#femme4masc#femme4butch#femme4femme#butch4femme#butch4butch#butch bait#butch lesbian#butch#masc lesbian#trans masc#masc4femme#masc4masc#masc4brat#masc4all#masc4butch#stud4femme#stud4stud#butch4brat#butch4both#butch4all#sapphic wlw#wlw sfw#sapphic#wlw post#dykeposting#wlw#sapphic writing
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Caleb Headcanons
Since @caleb-pilot has entirely ruined me, and I am now deep in my Caleb fixation I give you my personal headcanons for him. These are largely personal opinions given he's minimally developed by canon, and also heavily influenced by the Caleb Gimmick!
He's an adrenaline junkie, always seeking the next thing that makes him anything intense enough to be worthy of feeling
Caleb has a bit of a drinking problem, he drinks to forget and to remember and when he's drunk he lashes out at everyone
The boy has big wanderer trauma (likely watched his family die when he was a child)
He's hyper-vigilant, to the point of sometimes being jumpy
Caleb pays attention to all of MCs little details, knows all sorts of facts about her that no one else does
He will start a barfight and he will win that fight
He loves symbolism, and reminders of positive things in his life such as apples as an inside joke and clinging to terms of affection like pipsqueak
Caleb absolutely gave MC piggy-back rides all the time as kids and misses doing it now that they're older
He keeps a calendar full of things he wants to remember about his friends and family
He prefers fist bumps over hugs unless its MC because of his hyper-vigilance
Caleb deals with chronic nightmares
He drinks his coffee black
He has a high pain tolerance
(Very personal headcanon) His squad mates nicknamed him Icarus because he takes more risks than he should
He went out of his way to learn how to make all of MCs favorite foods
He keeps a picture of MC in his wallet he won't show anyone
Caleb wears the necklace MC gave him 24/7, in the shower, when he's sleeping, at the gym
Sometimes he texts Zayne to get updates on MCs health because he knows she'll sugar coat it
He is fiercely protective of his family and will defend them immediately
Caleb uses his Evol all the time for the most menial things
He will send slutty pictures without hesitation
His smiles don't always reach his eyes
Caleb has two laughs, one for fitting in and one that comes out more as a wheeze for genuine amusement
He likes junk food and is happy to eat at food stalls or grab convenience food lunches
Caleb is a master paper airplane crafter and is also good at origami (he keeps a box of 999 cranes under his bed, scared to make his wish)
He sings to himself while he flies (he has a pretty good voice)
He's developed a reputation for being a skilled pilot but people sometimes don't want to fly with him due to his impulsivity
Once he almost got thrown out of flight school for threatening a teacher
Many an adult has said he has promise but shows a troubling amount of anger
MC is the only one he'll listen to without question (if she says jump he asks how high)
#love and deepspace#l&ds#lads#caleb love and deepspace#he's my Icarus and I am falling into obsession#caleb x mc
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Viewer arg by Rainbott
I have just found out that the main video of the Viewer arg has been taken down and I am heartbroken. A bit.
Lemme explain what the Viewer arg actually is, or, was. It was a project made by Rainbott (THEY'RE AMAZING YOU CAN FIND THEM ON YOUTUBE AND INSTAGRAM CHECK THEM OUT). It was an arg which started out as a dsmp quiz video on YouTube in which you could explore the smp and test your knowledge, but underneath that you could find a story about self-doubt, struggles of creators on YouTube and the stress of going to college and needing to be an adult.
Now that that's out of the way, I can say that I'm probably one of the only people who even remembers it. It was an obscure project by a small content creator, which was also unfinished and objectively, not that good. However since the moment I first went through it in 2021, I fell in love with it and have not been able to stop thinking about it ever since. (Help) It was casual but had an interesting plot and was quite atmospheric. The main video was made by a ton of different artists which all put a lot of their love and effort into it which I absolutely adored. It was interesting and enticing and it was made by someone with clearly a lot of passion for what they were doing.
Even if it wasn't particularly popular, I literally didn't care. I took that as a challenge, creating my own theories, timeline and going through the game multiple times, writing out interesting details. If you're curious then you can find the fruit of my work here:
I was quite obsessed, forcing like 3 other people, my friends, to see it.
And I was just about to continue writing the script for a whole ass video essay when I went to check and realised that the main video, as well as two songs and the iceberg video all of which had significant sections of the plot were hidden. It, honestly, broke my heart. I felt quite stupid for still liking this project that even the author seemingly deemed as stupid. But, well, I'd still like to say thank you to Rainbott for inspiring me. They said that with this project they wanted to show people that you didn't have to be big or have special programs or something to make an arg, to make a compelling story. It was them because of whom I made my first animation and even my first 3d model. Thank you. Even if you might think that this project didn't matter, please know that there are people who were genuinely affected by it. Keep doing what you love and being an inspiration to many. Thank you.
@rainbott
Even if I forget your face, please remember me - 'A lost memory' by Rainbott
#Rainbott#Viewer arg#Rainbott arg#welcome to dreamworld#Arg#I'm sorry if this is awkward#Wlwdwtys talks
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what if darling cries during sex or aftercare, and once they calm down a bit, maybe apologise for getting too emtional (totally not projecting) and say that they feel so lucky to have their yan/they can't believe that they're here with their yan right now huehehehe i love soft emotional hurt/comfort
kind of on the same note (but not really) what are some awkward moments during with the yans? something about that feels really endearing and makes them more human, y'know?
tank yew for the yummy content :] don't forget to drink water n love yourself a lil you deserve it ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡
on that note i should probably drink some water myself...
Awww… I feel like both of the yans would feel a little bad, but they’d try their best to comfort their darling. ╰(*´︶`*)╯
For Kairos, he'd definitely wrap his arms around you without hesitating and pull you into a loving embrace. He’d press your face into his chest while resting his chin on the top of your head, shushing you and telling you it’ll all be okay– and that he’s so lucky to have you, too. (o´∀`o)
Kairos absolutely loves being able to comfort you– it makes him feel all warm inside, and he can’t help but feel as if he has a sense of purpose as he calms you down and showers you in his love.
To be honest, Kairos would probably end up crying right along with you... Then afterwards, he’d ask if you wanna take a bubble bath with him, or if you wanna just lay down and take a nap/go to sleep...
He’d also try and make you laugh afterwards– but his humor consists of either really dry puns or jokes that require you to be chronically online to understand them. So... I hope you find those things funny too! ┐(シ)┌
If you don't, he'll try to "get a better sense of humor" for you...!
As for Luka– while he does like seeing his darling cry, that's only when he has total control over the situation and knows that he's not genuinely hurting you. During the times he gets too aggressive during sex, he always feels regretful afterwards and tries to make it up to you.
So, if you start crying when he's trying to be genuine with you, it’d probably be a little awkward for him. ^^;;
Since he doesn’t understand strong emotions very well, he’d be kind of confused as to why you’re crying. Like… Did he hurt you? Did he say something that triggered this?
Luka would stop everything he’s doing and sit beside you as he wipes your tears away with the back of his hands, asking you to tell him what’s wrong. If you say that you just feel so lucky to have him, he honestly will be left speechless.
You're crying… Because you feel lucky? Lucky to have him? Aren't you only supposed to cry when you're upset or in pain?
Crying tears of joy isn't just a myth?
Truthfully, he’d space out for a bit and be lost in his own thoughts, fully trying to process what you said to him. After he spends a few minutes just staying by your side and wiping your tears, he’ll lean in and softly kiss your lips, asking you if there’s anything that you need from him. It can be anything at all– just tell him, and he’ll get it for you. It doesn’t matter how big or small. ( ´ ▽ ` )
If his darling cries after sex often, Luka will slowly get better and better at comforting you– he makes it his ultimate goal to learn how to best care for you and tend to all your needs.
Oh, and...
"...I'm lucky to have you, too. I love you."
(Also, thank U for the concern!! I try my best to take care of myself :3c I hope you and everyone else who reads this also does the same!! Go…… Drink water and love yourself…… (´｡• ᵕ •｡`))
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