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abnerkrill · 2 years

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And with my last film watched, it’s Venice roundup time babey! may contain mild spoilers but I keep it vague. from worst to best! featuring a somewhat arbitrary rating scale because the big screen festival ambience obliterates my objectivity.

[please note that I did not attend blonde, the son, or white noise so I have no opinions on those.]

I give 1.5 stars to CHIARA, an Italian biopic about St. Clare of Assisi. There are fragments of a great film in here and some surprisingly hella cool musical sequences, but also some laughably bad shots and cringe-fail dialog. I mostly felt disrespected by its approach to history: why oh why are we turning 13th century saints into girlbosses?

I give 2 stars to the short HOUSE COMES WITH A BIRD, which is oh so beautiful but extremely dumb. Feels like an advertisement—and that’s because it is! Made for Miu Miu. I am begging Pedro Pascal to let me choose his projects for him from now on.

I give 2.25 stars to DON’T WORRY DARLING. Florence Pugh, Chris Pine, Gemma Chan, Kiki Layne, costumes, production, cinematography, and score are top-notch. However, Pine, Chan, and Layne are hilariously underutilized. The script sucks ass and the sci-fi twist is so riddled with plot holes it instantly sinks. And Harry Styles is bad in this, folks. Get that man an acting coach—or far away from film sets.

I give 2.5 stars to MONICA, a family drama about a trans woman who returns home to care for her ailing mother. Gorgeously shot with a star turn from Trace Lysette, but frustratingly empty, slow, and ultimately somewhat hollow.

I give 2.85 stars to POUR LA FRANCE, a family drama about immigrant identity, patriotism, and regret. The weakest of the “Sad French films about brotherhood” trilogy from Venice (also including ATHENA and LES MIENS.) Felt like it could’ve used some restraint and cutting—it lags and continues where it ought to pull back and stop.

I give 3 stars to LETTER TO MY MOTHER FOR MY SON, another short I thought was touching but leans too advertisement-esque at times. If Miu Miu et al insist on funding films (good) they could at least refrain from having all their films double as branding exercises (bad.)

I give 3.5 stars to DEAD FOR A DOLLAR, a fun Western that literally made me go 🤔 in the theater when Rachel Brosnahan’s character refers to a Black man as a “man of color.” Like, what? This isn’t the 21st century, babes. Waltz and Dafoe seem a little confounded at times, torn between playing this as a Fun Cowboy Yarn or a Serious Morality Tale. Also, the color grading is way too fucking orange. Take it easy on the Instagram filters, I am begging you.

I give 3.75 stars to KHERS NIST (NO BEARS), a relatively short and sweet punch in the face about the hubris of filmmaking. It does what it does very well, but I couldn’t help but feel like its own layers of artifice hinder it from full effectiveness.

I give 3.85 stars to THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN, which maybe deserves a higher objective score but which I simply do not vibe with. I just wanted to shake the characters and tell them to get over themselves :( It’s such a beautiful film though, and these actors do not miss. I’m in love with Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan. Also, slight criticism over the shooting of the violin playing: Gleeson clearly can play, but not all the shots line up, which is just such an easy fix and so frustrating to musicians in the audience.

I give 3.9 stars to BARDO, FALSE CHRONICLE OF A HANDFUL OF TRUTHS, the tantalizingly divisive surrealist film from Iñárritu that will spark delicious Film Twitter Discourse for months to come. There are episodes in this long, winding tale that made me weep, and there are some that made me cringe in horror, and some that made me go :o dang I didn’t know he was allowed to go there. The long-awaited final scenes of this 3-hour film reward your patience, if you allow it to unfold in its own time. An epic, and a weird one. If you can stomach it, it will amaze.

I give 4 stars to TÁR, thee Cate Blanchett film that will surely get her an Oscar nom. Someone on Twitter called it “more of a full-body possession than a performance” and honestly that description kinda slaps so I’ll repeat it here. I’m really glad this film pulls no punches but I also cringe to think about the ways it’ll be misinterpreted. My complaints are limited to how Lydia Tár acts as a symphony orchestra conductor, with so many dick moves that surely the orchestra members would’ve revolted by now. Final note: I’m so glad we have representation for women who are shitty husbands :’)

I give 4.1 stars to L’IMMENSITÁ, a film that ostensibly stars Penélope Cruz but is actually about her trans son Andrew played so, so well by Luana Giuliani. The bittersweet coming-of-age scenes strike true and the musical sequences are transcendent. Prepare the tissues.

I give 4.1 stars to LES MIENS (OUR TIES), the next-best sad French film about brotherhood. This is a stellar family drama, at times hopeful and gently tragic, but always tender. Wonderful film—could’ve easily turned tacky and overly sentimental, but balances it all well.

I give 4.2 stars to THE WHALE, the film I thought I’d hate but reluctantly love! The fatsuit is problematic and there are indeed elements of framing his eating disorder as something horrific or grotesque, but overall the film treats Charlie (Fraser) with compassion and dignity, and he’s a well-written, fully-realized character. The real standouts are Sadie Sink as his daughter and Hong Chau as his friend and caregiver. They are both so incredibly good that I already weep at the fact that they can’t both win best supporting actress at every awards show ever. Also deals with religious trauma surprisingly well—a huge surprise considering I usually dislike Aronofsky.

I give 4.3 stars to BLUE JEAN, which I thought was another short with the Miu Miu project until it actually played and it’s a full-on feature 😭 This is the lesbian movie I really wish I’d had earlier in my personal journey. It’s open and raw, but insists on compassion when considering the perceived failures of closeted or non-activist queer people in the 80s. This film was made by queer women and it shows. Watch it!

I give 4.3 stars to MASTER GARDENER, an imperfect film I will gleefully defend. Hit me up if you hate it—most people do! I repeat as always that Paul Schrader is really just making different versions of the same film over and over again, so if you don’t like Schrader you won’t like this, but if you do like Schrader you’ll like this. Thorny, stilted, gloriously particular, this is Paul Schrader at peak Paul Schrader. I have never been so in love with Joel Edgerton, and Quintessa Swindell is my personal breakout star of Venice.

I give 4.4 stars to SAINT OMER, the French feminist take on Medea that I loved so very much. You can tell that director Alice Diop is a documentary filmmaker because it often feels documentary-like, which is absolutely a strength here. Quiet and gripping, a must-see for the classics intertextuality girlies.

I give 4.5 stars to BONES AND ALL. I love this film to bits and I sense it will affect my thinking and my storytelling impulses for a long, long time. A road trip, a coming-of-age film, a gory cannibalism film, an indictment, a poem, a love letter. Might have turned me into a real Timothee Chalamet fan when I was always somewhat neutral about him before. Taylor Russell is magnificent. This films says to love and be loved is to feed and be fed, and IT’S RIGHT.

Finally, I give a whopping 5 stars to ATHENA, which someone on Twitter called “Mad Max on the streets of Paris,” if that gives you a sense of the vibe. This is the film of the fucking year and believe you me they’re going to name some other film Best Picture at the awards shows but they will be wrong, I say. THEY WILL ALL BE WRONG. I am begging you to watch it on the biggest screen possible; it also releases on Netflix later this year. Breathtakingly original, vibrant, dynamic, violent filmmaking at its finest. We will all soon be in love with Sami Slimane’s Karim—especially Enjolras girls, calling it now. It’s the revolutionary leader vibes which honestly is all I ever wanted. It’s the love and tragedy and grief and brotherhood of it all. In conclusion:

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk, now go set an alert for ATHENA’s release date and do come bother me with ultra-specific questions about any and all films.

#Venice film festival #don’t worry darling #the whale #the banshees of inisherin #bones and all #hiii come talk to me about movies I will answer all questions or comments!!!!

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unisexobject · 2 years

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Chapter II. Rebel Rebel

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You suddenly find yourself growing closer with Eddie, doing things you'd never thought you ever would. Maybe Hawkins isn't so bad after all?

It had been a few days since your encounter with Eddie in the woods. You were thinking it over as you sat across from Robin in the cafeteria as she spoke on and on about how Back To The Future was basically incest propaganda and Steve. Apparently he had taken great pains in finding a girlfriend, something he had supposedly been failing at miserably.

"Hello, earth to Y/N...dingus?" Robin remarked, clicking her fingers wildly in front of your face.

"Sorry." You breathed, finally out of your trance.

"Where did you go?" Robin asked.

You continued snacking on your packet of pretzels as if you hadn't completely zoned out.

"Nowhere." You replied nonchalantly, crunching up the packet into a ball.

As Robin eyed you and hummed to herself, you stole a brief glance at the Hellfire Club table that sat just up toward your right. They were all beaming with laughter, Eddie reading out of a magazine histrionically. You imagined yourself with them, wearing one of the shirts that Eddie seemed to like so much. The shirt you had pointed out and liked too. The thought made you chide yourself inwardly for wanting to belong so bad, especially to a group you had barely known anything about.

You had already told yourself that friendship wasn't necessary nor possible in this new town, despite the irony of sharing your lunch with Robin, your newest buddy and favourite film critic.

"Oh, here's Steve. I can finally introduce you."

Suddenly, a tall and lean masculine figure stood to the side of you, sporting a light blue jacket and a thick swirly head of hair.

Robin quickly stood up, grabbing his shoulder firmly.

"Steve, I want you to meet one of our newest yet best customers, Y/N. I swear she is the sole reason we are still in business." Robin remarked proudly.

You quickly dusted off your hands, before extending one to shake Steve's.

"Hi." You started, voice kind of small, something that made you cringe. It wasn't like you had the hots for Steve or anything, just meeting new people made you terribly shy. Or defensive. It's inconsistent really.

"Robin talks about you all the time, so I kind of feel like I already know you."

Steve groaned loudly and looked over to Robin.

"I hope she spared some details."

Robin laughed before sitting back down across from you.

"Oh, I only divulged a little dingus. Like your endless pursuit of babes, killer babysitting skills and how Nancy Wheeler broke your teeny tiny heart."

You couldn't help but chuckle, even if it was at the expense of Steve. There was definitely no one like Robin. She was fun and hilarious, always honest and direct even if you secretly wish she weren't. She was kind of chaotic, something you saw more and more of as she interacted with Steve.

"Jesus Christ Robin." He chided before turning his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry about her, she has no filter so don't tell her anything personal."

You smiled at him now, happy to feel apart of a makeshift friendship group. You hadn't felt this kind of feeling since your old highschool and it was really nice to be reminded of it. Maybe to be included wasn't a terrible idea?

Suddenly out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie lurch himself on top of the cafeteria table, calling out different groups.

He seemed to have a thing for standing on top of surfaces you thought as he made his way closer to the edge.

"You want something freak?" Jason called out, garnering everyone's attention now, including Robin and Steve's.

Eddie's retort was a mere devil face, holding his hands above his head as he pointed his fingers upwardly and stuck out his pink tongue.

You watched him intently as he caused a scene.

After teasing Jason with a cheeky grin, he turned to you briefly before strutting toward his chair and sitting back down.

"Prick." Jason remarked as he turned away too.

"Nevermind them." Robin breathed. "A tale as old as time, the popular kids and the outcasts perpetually at war."

As you took your eyes off Eddie, you noticed Steve staring at you. When you caught his gaze he immediately turned away.

"Okay, well I better make my way to the game, I uh, I have to get there a little early."

Robin groaned loudly at Steve's remark.

"To meet your girlfriend?" Robin interposed.

Steve's cheeks flooded crimson as he ran a sheepish hand through his hair.

"She isn't my girlfriend, we're taking things slow. Something you're very acquainted with since you haven't spoken a single word to-"

"Okay that's enough from you, I gotta get my band outfit on." Robin seethed, quickly punching Steve in the stomach as she made her way past him.

"See you later dinguses" Robin called from behind, desperately avoiding Steve as he doubled over in pain.

You smiled uncomfortably before beginning to stand, awkward silence a little hard to ignore.

"It was nice meeting you Steve, I'm sure I'll see you around."

He grunted in response, unable to speak as you picked up your things, placing your headphones on and plugging them into your walkman. D'yer Mak'er by Led Zepplin begun to play as you roamed the halls of the school, something you enjoyed doing as it became more familiar to you. You eventually settled on going out into the woods and reading some Stephen King to pass the time since Robin and Steve werent hanging around for lunch. Looking down at your Casio watch, you knew you had about half an hour to kill before deciding whether or not you'd go to the Hellfire Club game. Since getting closer with Robin and meeting Steve, you wondered if that was enough in regard to friends.

When you arrived at Hawkins High, you made yourself a promise to not get too close, to not grow too attached. That the idea of friendship and memories and all of that crap would evade you. Disgust you even. Yet as you found yourself lunching with Robin and stealing glances at Eddie, you began to betray yourself. The lust for belonging and comfort much more overpowering than you had ever anticipated.

Eddie was interesting to say the least, but you still weren't 100% sure of him. Maybe that's why you had been thinking about your meeting with him over and over, playing it so much in your head that the memory had worn at the seams. You couldn't blame yourself really, you were just simply trying to decide if it was worth the hassle. New people were hard for you, you hadn't always been so closed off, defensive and shy, but recently it felt like no matter how hard you'd try, solitude seemed far easier.

You had big plans of finishing high school and moving somewhere far west, somewhere with sunshine and beaches. Maybe California, where the sky was pink and blue and the air carried sweet humidity. It was the stark contrast of brown and deep green that pulled you out of your fantasy. Placing your book down and glancing at your watch, you noticed it had been an hour.

"Shit." You huffed, as you stuffed away your book and Walkman into your bag before making your way to where you needed to go.

Walking feverishly through the woods, you wondered what it would be like to play D&D for the first time. The thought of it made you a little excited, albeit anxious to play with people you barely knew.

You noticed that they had already started when you finally approached the open door, stepping away slightly when you heard roars of laughter.

You lingered out of view, listening intently to what was going on, a clusterfuck of yells and rumblings of deep theatrical voices. In doing so, you had the thought that maybe you wouldn't fit in to their group and that Eddie was just being overly nice when he invited you.

You didn't really want to watch the basketball game, so you thought maybe going home would be the next best option.

Just as you begun to turn away, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Who goes there?"

Suddenly the roars of laughter and clattering ceased. You froze, unable to quickly make an escape. Just as feeling came back to your body, you boldly decided to enter since you had already been caught loitering.

Slowly, you poked your head from around the corner before standing completely under the architrave in full view.

A sea of young eyes darted to yours, some familiar from the cafeteria and all wearing the shirt Eddie had adorned himself with only days earlier. The shirt you had imagined wearing yourself.

"Y/N. We meet again." Eddie started, as he unfolded his body out of his chair, all limbs as he slowly stalked and made his way toward you. He peered at you the way a predator would watch its prey, only difference was that he seemed more welcoming than menacing.

The room was completely silent, only the rubbing of his denim and the echo of strong steps could be heard as he approached you.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it." He remarked, just stopping in front of you, smiling.

"Me neither." You replied.

Eddie placed his arms across his chest, eyeing you studiously.

"You wanna play?" He asked earnestly.

You took the time to observe the young boys and messy table peppered with multicoloured dice and strange maps. The sight made you feel a little intimidated.

"Is watching an option? I haven't played before."

Eddie watched your expression as it fashioned into nervousness.

All of the boys seated at the table behind him snickered, only until Eddie turned around and sent them a deathly glare.

You looked at him briefly before turning your gaze to move around him and toward the seated boys.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." You remarked, annoyed at yourself for being embarrassed by fourteen year olds.

"Stay." Eddie commanded, coughing a little when his voice sounded too desperate.

A young boy at the table with braces and mousy hair concealed under a cap suddenly stood up.

"Everyone has to start somewhere. We'll show you, right guys?" The young boy pleaded.

Lucky for you it worked, earning nodding heads and groans of approval.

You knew that this young boy just wanted to impress Eddie, yet you didn't let this bother you. Either way the sentiment was nice.

Eddie kept his intense gaze on you before breaking out into a genuine smile. He then moved aside motioning for you to pass with his left hand.

"Everyone welcome the newest member of Hellfire, Y/N." He remarked quite dramatically.

After a couple hours the game had ended and you could actually say that you played D&D. You wondered what your brother would think, probably chew you out for changing your mind over some group of bizarre boys or be elated that you finally decided to partake in it. Either way it made you feel close to him, even if he weren't with you in Hawkins.

Despite his theatrical bellows, Eddie found it difficult to remain focused throughout the campaign with you there. Concentrating was no easy feat when a new and mysterious girl sat across from him, paying attention to D&D as if it were an engrossing movie. He secretly loved how you kept asking questions for clarification on things or chewed your bottom lip when he was busy setting the scene. It was a nice change to have someone not be so critical and judgemental of something he loved, but rather...fascinated?

Regardless, he hoped you would stay in Hellfire. For group numbers of course.

It was Eddie's frame that pulled you out of your own thoughts as he came into view.

"You know, you zone out like...a lot." He remarked, clearing up the table as everyone had left, something you didn't even notice.

"Do I?" You asked honestly, probably still not completely present.

Eddie begun picking up the die and placing them into a little magenta coloured velvet pouch.

"Yeah, but I mean I zone out too, but mainly because I'm really high."

You chuckled as you stood up from your chair across the table from his very grandiose throne.

"I forgot you're a stoner." You mused, stepping away as he came over to your part of the table, clearing away boards and any additional wayward die.

"You could try sometime if you'd like? Only if you really wanted to. I'd hate to corrupt the golden girl." He replied, wearing his famous grin.

You smiled softly before staring at your feet.

"Maybe." You remarked, picking at the hem of your shirt.

"But, I don't think you can corrupt a heathen. I'm not a golden girl, remember?"

Eddie eyed you for a moment, wearing a thinking expression.

"You look lonely." He remarked earnestly.

As soon as his words fell from his mouth, his eyes widened in embarassment as if he didn't really mean to say such a thing.

You looked up from your shirt and caught his gaze. His comment made you feel a little vulnerable which in turn made you defensive.

"What if I like being alone?" You asked, words dripping with a hint of annoyance.

This caused Eddie to shift on his feet, jumping at the chance to explain himself.

"It's just that I know what being alone feels like. Being the town freak and all. I know that no one would like that." He rambled humourlessly.

You still couldn't really understand why Eddie was considered as a freak. Sure he listened to metal and often caused scenes along with dressing exactly like Nikki Sixx, but to be isolated from the community seemed like a massive overreaction. To be hated by an entire town was kind of ridiculous?

Eddie's sentiment still made you defensive but also made you really think. Was he right?

"Thanks for letting me play, but I gotta get home now."

You quickly walked past him, desperate to avoid any more uncomfortable interactions.

Successful in your escape route you briskly walked out the hall and to the carpark, hopping in your car and driving home.

The next day you had English and looked forward to the beloved subject. You.enjoyed stories and tales, even dabbling in some writing of your own.

What you weren't prepared for was Eddie to be seated at a desk directly next to yours. Of course he was late, running in and waving an apologetic hand to Mrs O'Donnell, sitting down with a thud and piercing jingle from his chain. You were becoming quite familiar with his boisterous clattering.

"You didn't tell me you were in O'Donnell's class?" Eddie whisper shouted into your left ear.

Your eyes remained ahead as she continued to talk about Ernest Hemingway.

"That's because I didn't know I was either." You retorted more quietly than he had.

Eddie was bouncing his leg and chewing on his nails as he listened to your reply.

"Well, I am army crawling my way to that diploma. Only if she gives me a D."

You quietly chuckled.

"D? Surely you could do better than that. You're not an idiot Munson" You replied honestly.

Eddie turned to face you, voice above a whisper.

"Well, maybe if you help me we could go for something a little better?"

He smiled widely. This made you clear your throat and look away, face instantly flushing.

"Sure."

Eddie's mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock and clapped his hands once very loudly. This earned the attention of the entire class, causing him to quickly mumble a "Sorry" to Mrs O'Donnell.

Eddie really wanted to learn more about you. He wasn't going to lie, you were a bit of a mystery to him, suddenly showing up in Hawkins and blowing into his life as if you were a strong gush of wind. You had this look in your eye that made him sad, that made him want to know everything he could about you. He loved having a girl apart of Hellfire and maybe he could earn a new friend in the process. Someone who didn't think he was a freak or a fuck up like his dad.

The time had passed and it neared the end of your class. The analog projector on the screen flickered as it displayed black and white portraits of the acclaimed writer.

Whilst you were analysing the photos, Eddie had leaned over a second time.

"You know when I said you looked lonely, I didn't mean it like that." Eddie whispered.

You allowed yourself to look away from the images and ignore the echoing words of Mrs O'Donnell.

"How did you mean it?" You whispered in reply.

Eddie looked at you for a moment, quickly scratching the side of his face.

"I meant it as a proposition. A business deal have you." He remarked, coy smile plastered on his face.

Christ was this guy ever serious? Yet, you smiled in return.

"Okay?" You replied, inflection turned upward at the end.

"I'm just going to come out and say it." He started, pretending to get all nervous as he breathed deeply. It kept the smile on your face. "I think, we should be friends. There. I said it. No take backs."

Eddie flicked his hair around very animatedly.

You laughed a little, quickly looking to make sure no one heard.

Eddie the freak Munson as your new friend? Well, you'd have to get use to his theatrical movements and inability to take anything seriously. If it just consisted of playing D&D and doing school homework maybe it would be okay, right? You could have a dynamic like Robin and Steve, not only ever having to cling to them like some desperate third wheeler. The thought was affirming.

After a few moments passed, you turned your gaze back to Eddie who was looking at you in playful anticipation.

"Okay, fine. Only because you suggested it so nicely." You replied, silly grin unable to hide itself on your reddened cheeks.

And just like that, you and Eddie Munson became friends.

#eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie x reader

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baddingtonbitch · 2 years

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thoughts on the white oleander film adaptation?

i like it for what it is but i do believe that a better/more comprehensive/more faithful adaptation is possible. for the amount of story they had to cover they did their best to hit the main notes without being unbelievably long, honestly i think if it were to be adapted today it would likely have to be a miniseries. it's definitely pretty cheesy in parts but it was 2002 lol and the book itself is well..the way it is (said with affection for both). honestly i think what i like about it is the feel and tone more than anything, the sort of gauzy, time jumping, dreamy feel of being dragged through an unstable and inconsistent life and how watercoloured your memories can get as a result (especially if that instability leads to certain things remaining undiagnosed lol). it's really quite beautiful and sometimes you just have to look at life through that dreamy sort of lens to get through its ugliness and in that i think it really captures a certain something about that age that a lot of other adolescent dramas fail to.

and it's from a crop of movies around the same time that portrayed early 2000s LA a certain way that really struck me because i stayed with family there for a few months around that time and i was so in love with it but also just a really sad, daydreamy, kid. they're White Oleander, Crazy/Beautiful and Thirteen. White Oleander and Thirteen (and the first Twilight lol) have the same blue filter loving cinematographer, and i feel like White Oleander is the midpoint between Crazy/Beautiful and Sharp Objects. there's also some Girl, Interrupted DNA in there and The Virgin Suicides isn't too far of a walk either. so like...dreamy, melancholy screen adaptations of notable, somewhat purple sadgirl books with beautiful cinematography, editing and scores with perhaps a little too much voiceover and actresses serving left and right. also media prone to having coquette aesthetic FREAKS crawling all over them like roaches so i generally don't seek out any content related to them on tumblr lest i get inundated with those messes of tags we all see now. you know the ones. #lizzy grant #alana champion #the bell jar etc etc

but yeah i have a fair amount of affection for it as it's kind of like finding an old diary full of ephemera and drawings and pretty ink and paper and pressed flowers and all that shit but reading it also makes you cringe at what a pretentious little thing you used to be while also making you sad and empathetic for your younger self. and for all the things i mentioned above, the rewatch value for me is quite high and it's easier, quicker and more passive than rereading the book but still gives me a shot of what i like the book for.

also michelle, robin and renee all kill it in that early 2000s drama sort of way. like i can't help it! it's one of those movies that i'd hesitate to show someone if i wasn't sure that they get me, and that they get how i get the movie? like if they don't get it i would probably die of embarrassment when emo, eyeliner wearing astrid dyes her hair brown and says "this is the price, mother. the price of belonging to you" without a shred of irony ghjhfllkh. but i'd happily show it to someone that i know would gleefully snort at that moment with me you know?

anyway sorry for writing a dissertation about it lol but i have a lot of thoughts about this movie and book and idk if anyone's ever asked me that question before and i don't think i've ever tried to put it in writing either and it was kind of fun. so thank you! <3

P.S. can we whiteoleanderpill stan twitter? like when a pop girly scalps us with an album can we get people tweeting them shit like

this is the price of belonging to you MOTHER

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pebblecake · 4 years

Photo

Pspspsp •u•

#having a little fail fun with cringe filters #and especially fun unreferenced perspectives and poses :3 #also I love animals #but im really a dog person honestly #maybe I just need a cat lol #I live with a LOT of stairs and I don't want to damage any hips because of that :c so i'll have to wait #illustration #perspective #kitty #fish eye #just enjoying some drawing and studying

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lavenderbexlatte · 4 years

Text

a handful (or two)

stray kids 3.9k words female reader insert Thick/Chubby!Reader x Lee Felix EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: DISCUSSIONS OF WEIGHT/BODY IMAGE/INSECURITY, unprotected sex 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

Sitting at your kitchen table in the early evening, you feel more like a soldier walking into battle than anything else.

You’ve got a list of your body measurements scrawled on a piece of paper beside you, as you scroll through an online shop on your phone. Ruffled blouses, wrap dresses, raw-hemmed jeans, tiered skirts, fitted cardigans. The clothes are cute, and your Likes list has no shortage of garments, but you’ve reached the worst part of clothes shopping:

Finding things that are actually in your size.

Korean online malls are not known for their variety of sizes, even though obviously, the people in any country who need to buy clothes have all different kinds of bodies. The cute clothes, the mainstream ones, the clothes that YouTubers and Instagram models promote, are mostly one-size. And that one size…is small.

Too small for you.

It’s a regular debate that you have with yourself. You shouldn’t even give your patronage to shops like these ones, where you have to filter through every single item and look at the detailed measurements to find the rare pair of pants that you could squeeze into. You shouldn’t play into a system that makes you hate yourself.

But you need new jeans. And in your heart, you want cute jeans from the online mall, like everyone else.

You pull up a pair of jeans in exactly the style that you want and scroll down to the measurements. You have to steel yourself as you look at the numbers.

Waist…hips…thigh…rise…length…

They’re too small.

You pull up another pair, and another, and another. They’re all too small.

“No,” says a small, dark voice in the back of your mind, “You’re just too big.”

You’re so caught up in this game of finding cute things to wear and discovering exactly how much the seller doesn’t want them to fit on people like you, that you don’t even hear your boyfriend until he’s right next to you.

“What are you doing?” comes a deep voice, right in your ear.

You jump in your seat, fumbling your phone for a second and catching it before it falls. Catching your breath, you look up at Felix, stood beside your chair gazing down at you.

“Jesus, when did you get here?” you ask, putting your phone down before anything else happens.

“Just got in,” he answers, nodding toward the door. “I called hello. You didn’t answer.”

Felix has a key to your place, free to come and go as he pleases, so it’s not exactly unusual for him to turn up like this. He’s dressed in a big t-shirt and joggers, practice clothes, obviously fresh from the studio with the rest of the guys.

“I was distracted,” you murmur.

“I guess so,” he grins at you.

You offer a halfhearted smile in return, feeling stupid for your bad mood, caused by something so out of your control. Shopping shouldn’t ruin your day. Felix pulls out your other dining chair to sit across from you at the small dining table, and you can’t help but stare at his body as he settles down.

He’s so…skinny.

You’re envious. You shouldn’t be, because your body is plenty good enough as it is. But you are. With a body like that, you could wear anything.

“What are you doing?” he asks you.

You hesitate, but Felix pays no mind to your internal struggle, reaching across the table to pick up the scrap of paper covered in your measurements. You want to snatch the paper out of his hands, which is ridiculous. He knows what your body looks like. Seeing the numbers that describe it isn’t going to scare him off.

But still, you feel that sick self-consciousness rising up as he glances over the paper, and sets it back down.

“I’m trying to buy jeans,” you say weakly.

“Trying?” Felix prods.

“Trying and failing.”

You pick up your phone, unlock it, and shove it at him, the screen still open to the last pair of too-small jeans. He peers at the listing, at the chart full of centimeters, and then down at your measurements scrawled out in your handwriting.

“They call that a large?” Felix says, amazed, and you cringe. “It’s like a half-centimeter difference.”

You know he’s just surprised since shopping for women’s clothes isn’t something he does often, and you’re sure he doesn’t know how common this problem is for you. But his words still sting a little.

“Yeah,” you say, “I think I’m done for tonight.”

You try not to let your deep-seated disappointment in the situation, and in yourself, show too much. Felix watches as you stand up and stretch. You can tell he’s thinking hard, can see that he wants to say something. But you really don’t need his commentary on this. You spend enough time thinking about your body, wanting to change your body, hating that you want to change your body…

“Do you want dinner? I went to the store earlier,” you say, determined to change the subject.

“Sure,” Felix agrees easily.

You cross your little kitchen and fling open the cupboard to dig out groceries for your meal. At least this is a task to take your mind off everything.

You don’t even notice as Felix takes the slip of paper from the table and folds it into his pocket.

--------------- Some days later, you all but trip into your bedroom after work, exhausted but hopeful.

Felix’s shoes and jacket were both waiting by the front door when you came in, which means he’s here waiting for you. He was nowhere to be seen in the rest of your small apartment, so that leaves this.

Of course, you’re not disappointed; Felix is lounging on your bed, playing on his phone and looking like the epitome of comfort in lounge pants and messy blonde hair. He smiles like the sunrise when he sees you.

“Hi, angel,” he says, as you drop your bag on the floor.

Instead of replying, you let yourself fall onto the bed beside him, flat on your back, and stretch out your poor sore limbs like a starfish.

“Long day?” he asks.

“The longest,” you agree.

“You’re in luck, though,” he says, “I have a surprise for you.”

You turn your head to look at him. “Really?”

He nods.

“Then gimme!” you quip.

Felix laughs brightly, and unfolds himself to retrieve a small gift bag from the side of the bed, tucked out of view. He hands it to you, and it’s surprisingly heavy and dense for its size. Today isn’t a special day by any means. Just a weekday, a work day, and you wrack your brain to figure out exactly why your boyfriend decided tonight was the night for presents.

“Can I open it?” you ask.

“You’d better,” says Felix, settling back down to watch you.

So you unceremoniously rip out the tissue paper packing, and when you’re met with a small pile of folded fabric, you upend the whole bag onto your bed.

There are four things inside.

A soft, oversized t-shirt, loose and comfortable and your favorite color, to boot.

A pair of thigh-high stockings.

A single thigh garter, in bright white.

And a pair of panties, also white. You unfold the underwear, to reveal a heart-shaped cutout on the back, and at the bottom…

“Crotchless?!” you ask, flustered.

Felix shrugs, his expression mischievous, “I thought they suited you.”

“What’s all this about?” you ask.

“I wanted to prove a point,” he says.

“What point can you prove with lingerie?”

“I’m proving pretty clearly that plenty of stores sell things to your measurements,” he says cheekily, “Just not that one store you were on the other day.”

Oh, my God.

You’re equal parts mortified and absolutely melting with the sweetness at the heart of this gesture. You didn’t realize that he was paying this much attention to you that day. You didn’t realize he knew how frustrated you were, how discouraged.

“They’re pretty,” you admit, turning the panties over in your hands.

“Then try them on for me.”

Felix’s tone is suggestive and low, lower than usual, and you know for certain that he didn’t just buy these things to cheer you up. He’s got an ulterior motive here.

“What’s in it for me?” you tease.

“Dress up for me and find out,” Felix replies.

Never one to turn down the prospect of some fun, you gather up the clothes and dart across the hall into your tiny bathroom. If Felix wants you to dress up for him, you need to do that alone and make a spectacle of it.

You dump the armful of clothing onto the counter. There’s no bra or anything, so you assume that Felix means for you to wear only the t-shirt. And that’s exactly what you do, stripping out of your work clothes and pulling the shirt over your head. You put on the panties, noting exactly how well they fit. The elastic doesn’t dig, and they don’t ride up, just smooth fabric and lace against your skin, hugging the curve of your ass. You try to forget about the opening at the bottom, baring you to the world; you already know Felix fully intends to use it, but you can’t believe he’s done this. It’s bold, even for him.

The thigh-highs come next, and while these also fit more nicely than any pair of tights you’ve ever owned, you have thick thighs, and the soft skin dimples around the top elastic band. You slide the thigh garter onto one leg, settling it at the top of the stocking. It only makes that indent more pronounced, soft flesh giving way under the thick white band. But you try your hardest not to feel self-conscious about it.

Felix picked these things for you. That means he wants to see you like this.

You pluck up all your courage, and walk back into your bedroom. Felix is waiting eagerly, and when you come into view, lingering shyly at the doorway, he smirks.

Honest-to-God smirks.

“Oh, angel,” he says, his deep voice nearly breaking over the syllables, “Oh, yes.”

You can see plainly on his face how much this little outfit is affecting him, and it sends a little thrill down your spine. Because truly, these clothes aren’t too out of the ordinary. The thigh-highs are new, and the panties aren’t something you would have picked for yourself, but it’s hard not to feel like you’re just wearing…a t-shirt and underwear.

It’s the intimacy, you decide. The fact that Felix carefully chose items in your most precise, comfortable sizes, and built you a sexy little dress-up kit that makes you feel as good as you look…God. Overwhelmingly intimate, you realize, and hot as hell.

“Let me see you, come here and give me a little spin,” Felix teases, twirling his finger in the air to mimic the model turn he’s demanding.

Smiling, squashing down a touch of embarrassment, you comply, coming to stand before Felix and turning around slowly on the spot. You can feel his eyes on you, and as you turn your back on him completely, you hear your bed creak.

Hands land on your waist as Felix pulls you flush against his front, and you can feel how hard he is already, filling out the front of his sweatpants. He’s always eager, always relishes the time you get to spend lost in each other, but he seems especially brazen tonight, as he grinds his clothed cock against your ass and slides his hands under the t-shirt to cup your bare breasts.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmurs.

You turn around in his arms, letting his hands drop back to your waist. He’s grinning at you with no small amount of lust in his eyes. You’re sure that you look similarly affected; you can already feel wetness gathering between your legs. His undivided attention, especially when you’re dressed up like this just for him, has you going out of your mind with want.

“Then show me,” you say.

He huffs out a laugh before diving in to kiss you, his pouty bow-shaped lips moving against yours roughly. Felix kisses like he’s starving and you’re one of the desserts that he loves to bake, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he stops ravishing you. His hands wander down to your ass, pinching hard enough that you squeak.

“Easy on the goods!” you chastise, as the spot aches deliciously.

Felix just pinches you again, harder, and guides you back toward your bed. You lay back on the mattress with Felix right behind you, settling between your spread legs. He sits back on his heels, just looking down at you beneath him in your skimpy panties and stockings. He runs his hands down your thighs indulgently, sliding a finger under the garter on one side and pulling it back so that it snaps against your skin.

“Angel, I should’ve thought of this a long time ago,” he says.

There’s no time for you to tease him, because Felix pulls his shirt over his head and discards it over the side of the bed, and you’re taken in by his gorgeous lithe body, his tiny waist and the rippling lines of his abs. No matter how many times you see him like this, it’s still exciting, that you can have someone so beautiful. He takes hold of the hem of your t-shirt next, and coaxes you upright so that he can take that off, too.

Your body is the exact opposite of his, soft where his is hard, sloping curves instead of the sharp cut of his ribs and hips and shoulders. But he leans right down over you and begins to kiss and nibble his way down your body, starting at the juncture of your collarbone. He trails his mouth over your chest, down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasp as he grazes his teeth over the bud, and he laughs gently.

Felix continues his slow ascent as you grasp at the sheets, mouthing over your stomach, soft like the rest of you. His hands hold your legs open wide for him as he moves down your body. He skips over your core entirely, choosing instead to bite sharply into the exposed skin of your upper thigh, above the band of the stockings.

“Lix!” you gasp, unable to help how your hips twitch forward at the sensation of his teeth.

He hums in response, leisurely delving forward to press a single lingering kiss to your folds, on full display in these deceptively pure white panties that hide absolutely nothing.

“Fucking love your legs,” Felix all but growls against the soft skin of your inner thigh, “Fucking love-”

Your hand flies down to grip at Felix’s hair as he bites a second bruise, this one on the tender inside of your leg. He’s never been this singularly-focused before, and you marvel at the way he’s worshipping your thighs, your waist, his hands roaming your ass and tweaking the fabric of the thigh-highs. You’ve always known that Felix liked your body – he’s your fucking boyfriend, after all. But this…

“Felix, I can’t,” you whine, “I need you, I need…”

“Oh, believe me,” Felix says, “I need it more.”

He draws away from you to push and kick his sweats and underwear off, and you watch hungrily as his cock bobs free, painfully hard and already leaking precome.

“You want – like this?” you ask, as Felix drops back on top of you, the head of his cock already nudging up against your pussy.

Felix likes it from behind, likes being able to grab your ass and watch your back arch as he drives into you. He likes you on top, so he can watch you bring yourself to orgasm using him. This is uncommon for you, missionary, you sprawled underneath Felix as he bends your knees up for better access and strokes his fingers down the length of your legs.

He nods, breathless. “Wanna see your face.”

His soft, honest admission makes your heart flutter even as you swear you can feel the arousal thrumming in your veins. You need him, need him so badly you could cry –

With a shift of his hips, Felix lines himself up and pushes into you. He’s agonizingly slow with it, just letting the head split your walls before he drags back out. He’s teasing you, absolutely doing this on purpose, and you can’t handle it. You untangle one hand from the sheets to cling to him, as he just dips the head of his cock in and out of you.

You whimper your frustration, and Felix leans in to kiss your cheeks, your nose, before pushing back in deeper, and deeper again, and finally he’s buried in you to the hilt.

“So gorgeous,” he groans, his deep voice reverbing in his chest, “You’re so good, angel, so good.”

He has one hand gripping your thigh tightly, holding your leg up beside your torso in a position that tests your flexibility more than a little bit. The other hand is digging into the curve of your hip, hard enough that you think there will be bruises.

Felix has those dancers’ hips, and core strength that lets him drive into you like he’s doing now, smooth long strokes that you arch up to meet as well as you can in his grip. He’s holding you at an angle that lets his pelvis grind against your clit every time he bottoms out. It’s not enough stimulation to let you finish, but it’s more than enough to drive you out of your mind.

“Lix, Lix, please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for.

He says something, quiet enough that you can’t really pick it up, and when you move your hand from his dip of his spine to the back of his head, Felix fixes his gaze right on you. He’s still speaking, rambling in his deep voice.

“-Let a fucking app make you think you’re not perfect cuz their fucking jeans don’t fit you,” he’s saying, “So soft, so pretty, like fuckin’ heaven, look at you.”

You can’t look at yourself all that well, but you can look at Felix, glance down to see the way he’s burying his cock in you again and again, holding himself up to look you in the eye as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he swears, “Taking me like a dream, angel…”

He’s never this vocal, either, and the talk has your head spinning almost as much as the brutal pace he’s maintaining. You can hear the obscene sound of your wetness around him. The desperate, weak first stirrings of an orgasm are starting to creep up on you, but you know yourself. You’re going to need more than this to finish.

Even so, you clench around Felix as he works himself into you again, and again, and he laughs breathlessly at the feeling of it.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” Felix asks, low and sweet.

You shake your head desperately, “Not enough – Lix, please, I need-”

“Not enough?” he echoes, amused, as his hips snap against yours in perfect time, “What, is this not good enough for you, angel?”

“So good, so good, just, please,” you whine.

Felix doesn’t answer you, but he does let go of your leg to bring his fingers up to your face. You’re so far gone, so hazy with lust and the orgasm that’s building but just isn’t close enough, that you barely notice him until his fingers are pressing at your lips.

He has small, beautiful hands, and you open your mouth to let him slip two dainty fingers into your mouth. You suck on the digits, knowing how much Felix likes having your mouth on him, or his on you. He’s not picky, as long as someone is licking, biting, sucking…

“So dirty,” he sighs.

Only for him, you think to yourself. You can’t summon the words to say to him out loud, but you certainly think them. Only for him.

“Don’t hold back on me now, angel,” Felix says.

He retrieves his fingers from your mouth, and snakes his hand down between your bodies to press them feather-light to your clit. You can’t help the gasp that escapes from you as he touches you, gentle and precise. The slide would have been wet and easy enough even without the extra help, but the combination of your saliva and your wetness as it seeps out around Felix’s thick cock makes his fingers glide over your clit with friction so good it’s almost painful.

Under your breath, almost like a prayer, you’re murmuring, chanting, “Please, please, please, please, oh-”

“You first,” he says, “Come on, are you gonna give me one?”

You want to, God, do you want to. You writhe in his hold, torn between rocking away from the steady delicious pressure on your clit and into the press of his cock splitting you open. Felix throws his head back as you tremble around him - your peak is so close you can fucking taste it - and groans.

“Love you,” Felix gasps, “Shit, love you, love your body-”

That’s what does it.

That view, Felix above you, so fucked out, working so hard to make you feel good. Physically and mentally, that’s what he’s trying to do. He saw you being upset for like fifteen minutes the other day and he’s putting in all this effort to build you up. He just wants you to feel good –

“Felix!”

His name passes your lips, just once, before you’re cumming hard with a strangled moan. Felix fucks into you hard once, twice, and then thrusts into you fully with a cry of his own as he cums against your walls. He’s quick to drop down and meet your lips in a messy kiss, pressing your bodies together, skin on skin.

The two of you shudder and murmur your way through your orgasms, as you marvel at how quickly he was able to bring you crashing right over the peak with him.

Once your voice comes back to you, all your can manage is another squeaking, “Felix.”

“Yeah,” he answers, decisive, like you’ve just revealed the secrets of the universe to him. “Yeah.”

He pulls out and gingerly moves off of you, but not without stroking his hands from your waist all the way down your thighs as he goes. You laugh quietly as Felix collapses onto his back beside you, wiping his brow dramatically like he’s just gotten off a hard day at work. His cum begins to drip back out of you as you sit up, which is gross, but you just want to be close to him. You curl against his side, head on his chest, and Felix accommodates you easily, cuddling into you just as eagerly.

As you readjust on the bed, settle into a more comfortable position, you notice the bruises. Tender new bruises on your hip, and along the side of your thigh where Felix had held you so tightly. It’s the perfect shape of his fingertips, fanning out along your skin.

“Jeez,” you murmur, touching the spots and secretly relishing the way they hurt.

“Sorry,” Felix grins, though he doesn’t look very sorry at all. “Just…your thighs. Your body. Love it.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #lee felix #lee felix smut #stray kids felix #stray kids felix smut #reader insert #chubby reader #she thicc #kpop fanfic #stray kids fanfic #tw weight #tw body image

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beelspillowpet · 3 years

Text

Beelzebub Finds and Comforts You

Something I needed to write for myself, honestly. I’ve suddenly started feeling down and I know how this rabbit hole goes. So here we go!

GN reader. “Pretty” is a nice little nickname I imagine Beel uses for MC. Enough with all the food pet names, that’s not all he is!!!

CONTENT WARNING!!! DEPRESSIVE THOUGHTS!

You were staying in your room, all day. Why bother leaving? You knew outside that door waited seven demon brothers, all glaring at you with unwelcoming eyes. The eldest of them, having the deepest scowl you’ve ever seen.

You recently flunked your math test, and you didn’t need to see the grade to know that. You still saw it, a solid 34 out of 100. You remembered wanting to scream, but couldn’t. So instead you sat there in your seat as the teacher and students filtered out of the classroom. You stared ahead, and then eventually down at your empty desk. Ashamed of anyone passing by seeing your failure.

If only they picked a more suitable human, one with the brains to be able to handle these tests and quizzes. You were so busy studying lately, working your hardest for a passing grade, only to fail miserably. You didn’t want to face the music yet. You weren’t ready when you were back home, and you certainly aren’t ready now.

There was a soft knock at your door. Since you’d got home you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone. Off to your room silently, hiding in your bed, sobbing grossly into your pillow. You didn’t even bother to get changed yet, simply throwing off your jacket and crawling in bed. You never wanted to move again. There was another knock at the door.

You wished whoever it was would take a hint and go away. You weren’t interested in debates, nor arguments, and if it was something fun they were suggesting, you didn’t feel like you deserved it. You didn’t deserve anything, really. Not this room, not their kindness, sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve to live, honestly speaking. You never thought about it too much though. That was a dangerous rabbit hole.

Finally, the door opened. You were ignoring whoever stepped inside, trying to pretend to be asleep. The footsteps got closer until they came to a stop. Your 6th sense was telling you they were just inches away from you. A hand grabbed your shoulder gently and shook you.

“C’mon, Pretty,” the deep voice coaxed. “I know you aren’t asleep. You must be starving.”

Ah. Beelzebub. While he wasn’t a straight A student, his grades were certainly better than yours. It wasn’t fair to compare to him though. Why would you compare garbage to an overall decent guy? A demon at that?

Pathetic. You were worse than a demon.

You put your pillow over your head, hoping you would block out his voice. “Beel, I don’t feel like eating right now.” You squeezed down, hoping truthfully that he would just stop. He could hear the pain and disappointment in your voice. It was so pungent he could nearly taste it.

“I’ll make you dinner. I just got finished eating your portion of dinner tonight and realized you weren’t there...” he explained. “My brothers say you aren’t feeling too good. Eating helps me feel better when I’m sad. You should eat too.”

You know he’s only trying to help. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast this morning as well, so it was no doubt effecting your mood. You still just didn’t want to move, and wanted to be stubborn on it. Beelzebub would play that game with you too.

He sat on his heels and waited, holding his own hands in self-comforting fidgets that he’s grown accustomed to. “Pretty?” he called for you. “Please? I want to take care of you.”

You croaked. Why was he being so nice to you? “Beel, stop it,” you cried. “I’m fine, okay?”

“But you aren’t!” Beelzebub huffed. “I know... about the test thing. You failed it, didn’t you?” There was a silence, confirming all he needed to know. “Whatever your score was, I’m sure it’s better than Mammon’s?” he tries.

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be just barely above Mammon. My grades should at least look like yours, or Asmo’s. O-or best case scenario, Satan’s! I shouldn’t be barely scraping by with dogshit grades, Beel.”

There was a frustrated sigh from behind you, and you cringed. You nearly rolled over to face him, but opted to just lay on your stomach with your head turned away from him still.

“I know you feel like you should be doing better. No one is expecting you to have grades like Satan, though. Some of the subjects at RAD are pretty... difficult, honestly. Especially for a human who didn’t know any of this stuff ever existed. We need you to survive, but want you to thrive. You can’t thrive if you’re not focusing on surviving.”

You grit your teeth. “Motivational speaker much?” you joke. “I’ve never seen you sound so passionate about anything but food before.”

“And family,” he shoots back immediately.

“What?”

“I’m passionate about family, and food. You’re family to me, Pretty.”

You smile. Somehow, he always knows what to say to take some of the edge off. You roll over to face him completely, your tear stains dried on your cheeks. He reaches over and pats the side of your head, the palm of his hand clapped down over your ear, filtering the world out around you. In that moment, it was just you and Beelzebub. You couldn’t have been happier.

The moment was unceremoniously ruined, by a loud growling. Beelzebub huffed in complaint again, turning his head. “I’m hungry...” he mutters, glaring at the door. “If you won’t get up, then I’ll carry you, Pretty.”

You sigh, defeated by his sweet determination. “At least scoop up my blanket too, then.”

#om!#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me mc #obey me headcanons #angst #comfort #listen guys i love beelzebub #like a lot #i feel like he's the perfect one to comfort you #motivational speaker beel #btw yall arent dating lmfao #he just likes to compliment you when ur sad #but srs tho #take care of urselves #you deserve happiness no matter what #<3

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honorguk · 3 years

Text

dating ➔ bambam

» navigation | REQUESTED

- what it’s like to date bambam from GOT7 (based on my assumptions)

──────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ──────

─ • OVERALL:

• would definitely be instantly comfortable with each other

• sort of friends before you began dating - seen him around but never approached

• deep conversations during late nights, especially when he takes you stargazing every so often

• sending you pictures of his cats and you joking about stealing them (and then you remind him it’s not a joke)

• sending each other memes hourly

• he reminds himself to wear grey sweatpants around you ;)

• the fans adore you two together - he posts stories of you all the time, usually making fun of you with stupid filters

• very handsy and always HAS to be in contact with you

• hand on your back, thigh, over your shoulders.. you name it

• secretly jealous, and only shows it during sex (oh my-)

• you have the most random inside jokes that make you guys cry laughing

• quoting vines and cringing yet still remaking old memes

• like you were made for each other, literally

• i can very clearly see you two having a gingerbread house making competition on instagram (and he’s smash yours in revenge for when you’ve won)

• would randomly shop up with large bouquets of flowers “just because”

• would remind you everyday how much you mean to him <3 and it never gets old

─ • DATES YOU GO ON:

• lying on each other on the couch, crushing each other’s bodies, and binging on snacks while scrolling through social media or netflix

• otherwise the boy has a large number of suits and a large amount of money to spend on dresses for you for fancy dates

• is honestly not too thoughtful when planning dates but tries his best, and it always ends up eventful

• both loving an adrenaline rush, you’re often found at an amusement park, probably holding hands on top of a roller coaster and screaming

• always end the night walking down the Han river, his jacket over your shoulders, hand in hand

• (and sometimes he’d even spend the night ;) )

─ • PET NAMES:

• the cringiness of his nicknames soon turns from being ironic to the normal thing he calls you

• honestly you’re like his cats

• “hi cupcake” “hey my lil angel”

• but let’s get real, you hear ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ a lot more

• “man, why did u do that!” “i dunno, bro, give me a break!” “i love you dude”

─ • WHILE ON TOUR:

• you guys dont call each other as often as the other members call their gfs because you’re both secure that you’re still deeply in love

• and when you are on call it’s probably because you’re both just bored, and sit in silence while you do work and he watches a show (which is very cute)

• but! before that silence comes in, you spend at least an hour catching up, giggling and blushing away at the stories told and comments made

• either way he’ll just send you memes anytime he’s free, and you’ll happily return the favor

• when he’s away for long periods of time, he’ll secretly ship you little gifts and clothes that he found during tour, and would call you when you unbox it

• you send him pictures of his cats as you take care of them while he’s away, and he coos at them constantly

• “you love your cats more than me..” “i can’t agree nor deny” “shut up bambam”

─ • ARGUING/MAKING UP:

• doesn’t like getting loud; is much more whiny than anything else

• turns completely subby, and hates seeing you mad - it makes him really sad

• he feels like he failed in someway or another, so he apologizes quickly but oftentimes that means he didn’t really understand what you were mad at him for so the mistakes repeat

• so when they do repeat, you get angrier, and only that’s when realizes he actually has to take matters into his own hands

• there have been times when you’ve slept on the couch from anger, and bam would always come in during the night and sleep with you, apologizing softly the morning after

• he’d also buy you bouquets even when he’s in the wrong, and write a traditional apology letter to attach to the flowers

─ • NSFW:

• usually pretty rough and fast-paced but you guys definitely have your sentimental moments together

• definitely goofy during aftercare, but is the most serious during the act

• lowkey sadistic but also loves when you mark him

• a beggar, but also loves hearing praise

• seems like a switch and sort of it, but leans towards a dom, i can’t lie

• body rolls for days! He definitely uses his dancer body to his advantage ;)

• you’ve done it everywhere - he probably has a mental checklist to keep up

• very open to experimenting with kinks, outfits and toys

• “there’s no judgement, baby”

• always flirting or teasing you in public when he’s in a subby mood just so you can get playfully annoyed and punish him at home

• extremely loving aftercare <3 baths, giggles, and sleeping in each other’s chests

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Characters - Reader, Ransom Drysdale, assorted OCs

Word count - 3100

Warnings - Drinking, language, sexual content

A/N - Hope you enjoy the next installment of my Ransom series. Still setting things up in the chapter, but we’re moving along. For a while, there will be a good amount of heavy drinking and the questionable choices that go along with that, just FYI. Remember this is fiction and the acts are not recommended. They will also be acknowledged later if you are concerned.

Feedback is wonderful, & if you notice any errors please let me know!

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter 1

You order drinks plus shots.

“To another fucking week,” you salute with Whitney. It burns, and it’s sweet, and you just want it to act fast.

“Yeah, another one.” She grabs hers, salutes, and tosses it back back. She cringes for a few seconds, but once she recovers, she picks right up with half of a conversation you weren’t having. “So, are you gonna take someone home tonight?”

“You’re more worried about my sex life than your own.” You shake your head at her.

“After what that asshole did to you, you deserve all the good fucking. I’m just trying to find a good dick to help you forget.”

“Wow, that’s sweet in a weird way.” You shake your head again, but smile this time.

“Well, it’s true. I also don’t want to feel bad if I ditch you later for my own fuck buddy.” She wiggles her eyebrows like a cartoon villain. At least she’s giving you a warning this time and not just disappearing on you later.

“Jesus, Whit. Yeah okay.” You can’t help but laugh with her. “It’s just,” you survey the group around you, “You never really know what you’re gonna find at the end of the night.”

“Uhhh, yeah. That’s what having a one-night stand is...Oh hi.” She offers a dazzling smile to a cute guy pushing next to her at the bar.

You wait a few seconds for her attention to return before you mutter, “I am well aware.”

“So pick a partner and do-si-do. Come on, cowgirl,” she nudges you, nodding to the guy in the fraying straw hat next to you. Nothing seems to deter her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you giggle.

She smiles and shrugs. A few minutes pass as she looks you over, studying you.

“You’re being weird about this.”

“I know.” You nibble on the straw in your glass for a moment before getting to where your mind’s been stuck for hours. “So hey, that guy we hung out with? Ransom?”

“No.” She shakes her head hard from side to side, a slightly manic giggle coming out between the repeated, “No, no. No.”

“What?” you try to sound casual, indifferent, but she knows you too well. “I just want to know what his deal is.”

“You don’t,” she insists, shaking her head.

“Why? Did you sleep with him?”

“No, I haven’t.” She pauses for a moment, you can see she’s actually thinking over her answer. “He’s just gonna get what he wants from you and push you away.”

“You do realize that’s exactly what you’ve been telling me to do? So I should screw someone, but not him...because that’s what he does?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, are he and Michelle a thing? I don’t want any extra relationship drama.”

“Psshh, yeah, god knows you’ve had enough of that.” She stares off into the middle distance before shaking her head and focusing again. “No, they’re not together either, but please? Please? Just promise me you’re not interested in Ransom.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think you’re his type.” She lets the words hang, and you’re unsure how to interpret them until you finally settle on hurt. You physically recoil a bit when the sting of her words hits.

“Wow, ouch. What the hell does that mean?” You look down into your lap, looking yourself over really quickly and not finding anything major sticking out.

“I just don’t see it. Trust me, and tell me you’re not being serious with this.”

Even with her strange and kind of harsh reaction, you can’t get rid of the swooping feeling you get in your stomach just thinking about him. So, you try to purse your lips to control the uncomfortable smile trying to break through. You want to assure your friend, but can’t lie to her either...at least not well.

“I’m totally not,” you finally say with an awkward laugh behind it. Again, failing miserably to play off nonchalance.

She sees it all and knows you’re full of shit. “No one will have any respect for you if you fuck around with him.” She says, matter-of-factly.

Where this is all coming from, you have no idea.

“You’re being mean and cryptic and I don’t like it. I’m not even saying that anything’s going to happen, but that sounds a little extreme, Whit. Come on,” you whine.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not. Just find someone and ask him to buy you a drink. Look around, you can pick anyone, but I am not enabling you and Ransom,” she quickly adds.

You try to lighten the mood by teasing her about having standards, but can’t find much ground to stand on when she brings The Ex into the discussion. She’s really on a roll tonight and pulling no punches. It’s not what you wanted or needed from the night. You came out with a mission to have fun, so you take a deep breath and decide to be the bigger person.

“Hey Whit?”

She keeps her eyes on the bar in front of her, letting you know she’s still somewhat annoyed at you. “Yesss?”

“This week sucked. Let’s get trashed.” You sling your arms around her shoulders and shake her until she laughs with you. Her party-friend is back in action.

“Fuck. Yes.”

You struggle to go along with Whitney’s plan for your night, especially when the Cowboy and just about every other guy she pushes your way fail to keep your interest. Not that you’d never had a one-night stand, but just that lately they’d been pretty awful experiences and you wondered far too often lately what a life of celibacy would look like. It’s much easier to dismiss the guys and remember that at least your vibrator can get the job done.

Before last call you give in and you text Jeff. Yes, the Jeff with whiskey dick who left you high and dry last time as Whitney reminds you with a giggle. He sounds genuinely happy to hear from you again and promises to make up for last time which makes it seem worth it to give him another shot. He’s tall, fit, with long fingers and if you remember correctly, a decent enough dick.

He manages to stay hard this time around, and he takes his time feeling you up, but the two of you can’t find a rhythm that works. You finally bat his hand away and rub yourself off while he pumps sloppily into you. Afterward, he leans in for a kiss and you turn away to give him your cheek. Getting dressed, you give him a few non-committal answers when he asks about seeing you again, and at the end of it all, you’re most grateful that you didn’t take him to your place.

You spread out alone in your own bed and think over Whitney’s words.

Whitney knows more than a few of your dirty secrets; the friendship between you two had blossomed quickly with your guard easily let down. She never really judged you, at least not openly, which left you swirling in doubt for days, obsessing over what would probably end up being nothing.

What made you not his type - looks? Money? Another woman? She never really had a filter, but she was being so short on the topic of Ransom which made you think even harder, rooting through some more recent bad memories.

“Am I a bad person?” you ask Carrie during the week.

“What? No!”

You accept her answer with a nod, silently thinking.

“I wonder if I should just take a break.” When Carrie looks at you funny, you clarify, “Like, maybe I am finding these losers because I am not all that great myself? These guys are all just…”

“Babe, you’re meeting them at bars...with Whitney.”

You heave in a deep sigh, “I know. And she’s not that bad.” A humorless laugh escapes. “Maybe I am aiming too high or something?”

“There’s no such thing.” You see her shoulders shift, fire in her eyes and protective mode activated like she’s done a few times in staff meetings. “What happened?” she asks.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Whitney laughs when you tell her you’re thinking of taking a break.

“Was Jeff that bad? I thought you said he was good with his fingers.”

You look around, even if Whitney has forgotten she’s in public, you haven’t. No one else reacts though, thankfully.

“You’re such a bitch,” you sigh. She fakes offense which you ignore. “No, he wasn’t that bad, I just want to find a nice guy. I don’t know.”

Her already buzzed gaze moves somewhere over your shoulder, “Oh whoa, stop that thought. There’s a guy behind you that looks like he wants to bend you over right here. So,” she drags out, “How about we see how that goes and forget about Jeff, and nice for a while.”

She adjusts her own posture, subtly popping up her tits and tilting her chin down to offer him and enticing smile.

‘Jeff isn’t the problem,’ you think to yourself, but she’s already moving forward with her plan for your night. You toss back the shot she places in front of you and turn to check him out.

It’s not happening, even as tipsy as you currently are, this guy with the ironic mullet hovering next to you and trying to get handsy is not getting into your pants. You know it, Whitney knows it (even if she continues to flirt with his friend), hell - the people in the space station know it… but Mullet Guy is oblivious. It’s embarrassing.

You sit there with your hands over half of your face, wishing he’d leave you alone, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar pretty face surrounded by blonde hair.

“Do you need some help?” Michelle asks, eyeing the guy next to you.

You’re surprised she even recognized you, let alone approached you, but you’re desperate to take the help where you can get it. “Oh my god, yes.”

She gives you a knowing grin, “You’ll find some of us in the corner booth in the back.”

“You sure?” you ask, still thrown off by the interaction and nearly stumbling off the bar stool. “What about Whitney?”

“I’ll get her,” She gives you a little nudge.

You slip past the guy hopelessly hitting on you, mumbling and hoping he doesn’t follow and head down the aisle alongside the bar until you reach the large, corner booth. A few faces look familiar, but when he looks up you consider turning back. Judging by his smirk, there’s no chance of that happening.

You raise your voice to be heard over the noise of the bar, “Um, Michelle sent me over,” your nerves turning it into a question rather than a statement.

Ransom raises an eyebrow like he’s about to ask a question, but nudges the people next to him to make them get up and make room for you.

“Oh, no that’s...I’ll just sit on the end.” You try to politely wave them off, but they’re already up.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” he invites you, arm thrown over the back of the seat and your heart beats double-time with just how much you want it wrapped around you. The two people who vacated their spots shift impatiently and you clumsily sit down and start to scoot over under your knee bumps into his, making you immediately stop and apologize.

“You here all alone?” he asks, swirling his drink, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light.

“Nah,” Michelle reappears and speaks up for you as she sets down a few glasses onto the table, “Whitney’s here, but she’s got some company. This lucky lady,” she points to you and continues with a light laugh in her voice, “Was just looking miserable with some idiot not taking a hint.”

“You should’ve just told him to fuck off.” Ransom says.

You look over the crowd, finding Mullet Guy waiting for you back at your seat. His eyes droopy from the liquor and Whitney swaying with his companion.

“I know, I just don’t like doing that. Plus, uh, I think Whitney is trying to fuck his friend.”

“So leave her. She’s a big girl and can handle herself.”

After that he continues the conversation he was having with the others before you arrived, and once again, you sit there silently watching.

If you can call anyone the leader in the group, it is Ransom. Watching the way the other guys at the table defer to him and how he responds to what they say makes it obvious. He knows it too, practically sitting here holding court at the big square booth.

The conversation isn’t all that interesting, at least not to you. Some kind of pissing contest the guys are having involving some sports stats. Every now and again you hear them say something so blatantly wrong, but you don’t know them well enough to correct them. With the underhanded comments and passive aggressive insults, you can’t help but wonder if any of them are actually friends. Eventually, your attention wanders over the rest of the bar patrons.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Ransom startles you with how close he is, body still but eyes roaming. You suck in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and his cologne which makes your mouth water.

“N-no, sorry,” you struggle to come up with an excuse for zoning out, “Just looking for Whitney.”

He tips his head, “She’s right where you left her.” You follow his line of sight, finding her easily.

“Oh. Yeah.”

The way his face goes impassive unsettles you, like it was the wrong answer. “We’re boring you. That’s alright. Let’s talk about you.”

“Not much that you’d be interested in, I think.” Whitney’s assertion that you’re not his type replays in your head

“I don’t know about that. I have a lot of interests.” He stares at you with this look on his face, like he’s listening to something funny, but his eyes are serious. It’s intimidating when combined with the way he’s lounged so comfortably next to you, taking up the space like he owns it and yours. His tone, and the little tickle from his fingers against your shoulder feels like flirting, and now your inner voice begs you to remember how to fucking flirt. ‘For the love of god, shake off the nerves and flirt with this gorgeous creature.’ You take a deep breath and try to sink into it.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, setting your elbow on the table and propping your face on your palm while you turn even further toward him.

One side of his face lifts almost into a smile. He starts with a few basic questions, finding out you’re not from the city, how long you’ve been around. He ignores what you ask in return, continuing with his rapid-fire questioning.

“How do you know that little brat?” he asks with a tiny flick in the direction of the bar.

“Whitney?” you chuckle and he nods, “Friend of a friend; she practically became attached at my hip once we started going out together.”

“A quiet little mouse like you and her? Really?”

“I promise you, I’m not always so quiet,” you challenge.

“See, now that is interesting. Think I’d like to see that,” he answers, eyes giving you a quick up-down in your seat.

In the seconds it takes for you to process that he is indeed flirting and you need to respond, the moment is broken by a high-pitched voice.

“There you are! You fucking ditched me.” Whitney practically howls at you. You feel like a child who got caught out after curfew as you see her eyes move between you and Ransom. “What’s happening here?”

The alcohol has settled enough to remove some of your tension. With that and her overdramatic reaction, trying to control the urge to giggle at being caught is impossible, so you bite down on your lips to keep the grin from your face. “Nothing,” you answer, poorly faking innocence.

Ransom’s eyes stay on you, you can feel it, but he talks to your friend, “We were just getting to know each other better.” He turns to look at her, “Sit down with us,” his tone almost sounding like an order.

“Getting to know each other?” she asks you pointedly.

You can’t understand what her problem is with him, especially since he’s her friend. At this point, you’re too intrigued. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to deny that you’re attracted to him with half your body leaning into him like he’s a magnet, but for some reason you think you see real disappointment in her eyes. Biting your lip, you take a peek at him to find him waiting for your response; he’s already smug with the attention.

“Yeah.”

“What about your break?” she spits out.

You feel too many people looking at you, but you can’t answer, too shocked that she’s put you on the spot like this.

“Remember?” she asks like you’re forgetful, “You’re taking a break because you’re looking for a nice guy.” She over-enunciates as she stares daggers at Ransom.

“Why don’t you get the stick out of your ass, Whitney. I’ve been nice all night, haven’t I sweetheart?” The hostility between the two makes your back go rigid, anxious for the moment to end and the spotlight to be directed anywhere else.

“I’m fine,” you tell her as firmly as you can.

She shakes her head at you, but sits down anyway, jumping right into flirty conversation with Eric who is sitting at the end of the booth, notably there without the girl from the other weekend.

“Hmm,” Ransom hums right against your ear, making your skin tingle. “I think someone just got in trouble.” He’s clearly amused and not sounding remorseful at all.

He makes a move then. It’s slight, but you feel him tuck you a little further under his arm. Part of you is glad Whitney is distracted, but the other part wants her to notice it and realize she might be wrong.

“I…yeah,” you stumble over your words, confused and flustered between the two of them. Chest tight and pulling in short breaths and stomach swooping with excitement, you internally scream, begging for him to make it worth it.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #c'mon let's pretend series #my writing #chris evans characters #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale fluff

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vesuvian-american-fics · 3 years

Text

Something Entirely New Ch. 6

Mending Bridges

You and Muriel avoid each other like the plague, will Asra help bring you back together?

(AO3)

Words: 1,624

Muriel dropped his large body onto the edge of his plush bed, holding his face in his hands. His nerves were eating away at him from the inside, bouncing his legs to distract himself form the rest of his trembling body.

His soft bottom lip was trembling, as you were crying silently to yourself downstairs Muriel was fighting back tears of his own. What was the point in all of this anger inside of him? Was he only capable of hurting people? He never wanted to make you cry. Muriel pulled at his hair before stopping himself to breathe, trying and failing to calm his pounding heart.

He fell back onto his bed, curling in on himself. He prayed for sleep, he wanted to forget what just happened, hoping that when he awoke, he’d find that it was all a dream. Yet, slumber never came to the man, he was restless. The vision of your dejected expression, your shoulders dropping, the tears about to flow from your eyes. He wanted nothing more than to right his wrongs and give you a chance.

You were kind and gentle, the total opposite of what he was used to with strangers. All this time he was mean and cold to you, and he was disgusted with his behavior. Asra adored you, and he finally had the chance to see why and instead he continued to push you away. Now, he feared he lost his chance. How could he apologize, how could he make up for what he did?

Unbeknownst to Muriel, he had spent the entire night racking his mind for a solution. The early morning sun filtered in through his window, shining light on the dust that floated gently through the air. He ought to get outside and take care of those plants before you wake up, so he can avoid seeing your sad demeanor.

Muriel tiptoed out of his room, peaking around the corner in the hallway. He cringed when the floor boards creaked under his weight, as light as he could be on his feet and made his way down the stairs.

When he entered the kitchen his froze, breath hitching and caught in his throat. There you were, sound asleep at the dining room table surrounded by platters of cookies. You had some dough on your cheek, he noticed, but then his heart sank when he also noticed the trails of dried tears there.

He silently moved outside, plucking one cookie off of a tray on his way. It was soft, fluffy and delicious. Just the right amount of lemon and sugar, damn your cooking could be the end of him.

Muriel began to pull more weeds, the memory of your sleeping form burned into his mind. He was afraid of Asra seeing you there, alone and sad. The anticipation of who would awake first gave him anxiety. Asra would surely come straight for Muriel, scolding him for his words, but if you woke up first the guilt of Asra being unaware of the pain Muriel caused you would pain him just as much.

Soon he got his answer, Muriel heard the clanging of pots and pans coming from the open kitchen window. His heart raced, were you going to come out and talk to him or were you going to actively avoid him for the day? He paused his work in the garden to sit by the well and catch his breath.

Just as he steadied his breathing you came outside, both of you stopping to gape at one another. Simultaneously your eyes darted away from each other, and you quickly walked off towards the market in town. You were carrying an alarming number of cookies with you.

Asra woke up with the early afternoon sun, his nap from yesterday turning into a long night’s sleep. He stretched and yawned loudly, satisfied with the popping of his back. Asra looked out the window to see Muriel in the yard again, pulling weeds and arranging the cacti, and you were walking back up to the house with an empty backet on your hip.

He noticed you and Muriel made not eye contact and never even acknowledged the others presence, actively pretending the other wasn’t there. He found it odd but assumed something must have happened while he disappeared to sleep.

“I’ll leave it to Muriel to fix.” Sighing, Asra stretched once again and got up for the day. He hopped down the stairs and hugged you from behind, making you laugh softly. He’ll avoid asking how your night was, he wants you and Muriel to handle your affairs without his help until it’s necessary for him to get involved.

“Ooh! Cookies!” Asra popped a lemony cookie into his mouth and hummed at the flavor.

“I’m glad you like them.” You smiled and quickly busied yourself with cooking a small lunch for the three of you, a vegetable soup with left over lemonade. Asra noticed your body language, you were anxious and distracted.

“Let me, you just go sit over there. I saw you just came back from the little market in town.” Asra bumped you with his hip and move you out of the way, and lighten your mood. You laughed lightly and sat at the dining room table, watching him work.

“Yeah, I got a little carried away with the baking last night so I gave away from cookies to the vendors and children. Good people.” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, hoping Asra won’t ask too many questions.

“Is that so? I wondered why you came back with an empty basket.” He laughed at that and shot you a bright smile. You smiled in return, secretly thanking Asra for his fun-loving personality. You knew he could tell you were a little sad, but refrained asking for many details. He could guess what was the issue at hand. Speak of the Devil and he shall come, Muriel awkwardly entered the room.

Despite it telling himself to avoid eye contact with you, his large green orbs slid over to where you sat. His eyes widened when he saw you looking back at him and his averted his gaze. Scratching at his chin, Muriel cleared his throat.

“Cookies were good...” He stated, voice trembling with anxiety.

“O-oh, thanks...” You replied, your eyes looked onto your feet. You guess he tasted some cookies while you slept, you didn’t know how to feel about that but in spite of it all you were glad he liked them.

“Lunch is ready!” Asra interrupted, swinging the attention onto him. He carried the hot pot over to the dining table and sat it in the middle. He ladled the hearty soup into you and Muriel’s bowls before seating himself at the table.

“I think I’ll eat outside, it’s a nice day out!” You said, and before you could notice the pout on Asra’s lips you were standing from the table and leaving out the back door.

Asra sighed and placed his chin onto his palm before his violet eyes met Muriel’s guilty olive ones.

“I don’t know what happened, and I won’t ask, but figure it out.” Was all Asra said, before the two ate their lunch in relative silence. Just as they finished Asra spoke again.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked, concerned for his friend. Asra knew he could be a little pushy when it came to Muriel, he just wanted the best for him and maybe this time his methods were doing more harm than good.

“N-no... Yes? I don’t know. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be.” Muriel stuttered out his reply as he washed their dishes. He looked up to see you outside still, looking off into the distance. He admired your profile for a moment before he tore his eyes away.

“I was jealous. But I didn’t have to be! I could have just gotten to know Y/N instead of being bitter. So, I was upset with you, because I felt left out. But not I’m upset with myself because I did it to myself.” Muriel explained, he wanted to be honest with Asra. He wanted Asra’s help but he knew he wanted to make this right on his own. He wanted to make you happy again, so the three of you could enjoy this trip together.

He was tired of being bitter, tired of being anxious. All this time he was missing out on knowing you, judging you before you had the chance to show him your character. Now, he felt, it may be too late. He showed you his ugly side all this time, unprovoked. Could you forgive him? How will he go about this?

“I’m sorry.” Asra said, pulling Muriel from his racing thoughts. Muriel was stunned, although all this time Muriel was blaming you and Asra for his attitude, he never expected Asra to apologize. Now that he understood his own feelings, he didn’t want the apology. Muriel felt he was the one that should apologize to Asra, and now especially you.

“No, it’s me! I’m sorry!” Muriel exclaimed, shaking his hands in front of his chest. Asra only smiled and laughed at Muriel’s reaction.

“Look, you two will get through this. You just have to apologize and make things right; you can do it. I won't interfere anymore though, it’s all on you!” Asra embraced Muriel in a quick, but loving hug before releasing the hermit.

Muriel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, he looked back to you, the afternoon sun making your skin shine like gold. The view made him blush; you were beautiful, peaceful looking.

Muriel sighed before straightening his posture and stepping out into the backyard, giving you a regretful look.

“Hi.”

#muriel x reader #something entirely new #ch 6 #chapter 6 #muriel #the arcana #the arcana game #fic #asra #mc #the apprentice

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friendofthecrows · 3 years

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Posting a way more in-depth description of my alters than any of you want or need because why not

Keiko: friendliest, nicest, cutest, acts the youngest. Used to front a lot when we were hanging out with friends. Still essentially like the rest of us in that she has the same personality disorders (pointing this out because you wouldn’t guess she has ASPD but we all do. No, none of us are “more of a psychopath” or evil vs good or whatever compared to one another). She just seems more able to feel/express the positive spectrum of emotions, she hasn’t repressed it or detached herself from it as much. She/her pronouns. Aroace. Current fave thing: either MLP or stimboards

Miyuki: calm, collected, responsible, acts like a gatekeeper of the system a lot as in she’s the only one we can actually trust to moderate the rules objectively. Also has pulled people out or put people in control before. Less “control panel” access than say Jokul or I though, but probably only due to lack of practice. THE most sane one (idk how that works either) and the one with the least emotional turmoil. Used to wonder if 1. She was capable of caring about people and 2. If she actually felt any emotions at all. The answer is yes she does, she just Bottles Them Up Completely. We are taking it in faith that she feels stuff because the body cried once while she was in control. Pronouns: she/her. Sexuality: ???? when it comes to romance, but definitely ace. Current fave thing: tea, specifically a nice warming oolong like Da Hong Pao.

Yahto: (me!) people are suggesting ways to describe me and it is mean. For most of my knowledge of my own existence as a separate alter, I’ve kind of assigned myself the role of protector. I was very functional as well! Confident (bordering on insufferably arrogant), and with the level of detachment from my emotions I had at the time as well as my complete lack of fear, perfectly suited to deal with a wide variety of situations. Only if we were okay with other people thinking we’re weird because I used to have a worse filter than I have now. I experienced fear for the first time 3.5 years ago right alongside the strongest emotions I’ve ever felt and my mental health has been spiraling downwards ever since :) Also I am literally the most stubborn person you will ever meet. He/him pronouns. Anything having to do with orientation is a big question mark right now, I just know I’m probably not interested in men. I HAVE dated women but tbh I’m no longer sure if I’m even interested in them. Current fave thing: yahto.exe stopped working 38 hours of being awake ago. Uh,,,,idk sorry How about reading fzanfic to pass the time fnafic fanfic

Jezebeth (Jez): (headspace bestie! Great at writing horror poems!) Does Not Care About People but also surprisingly extremely chill. When she’s enthusiastic about something, she’s REALLY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT IT but otherwise mostly just stays quiet and has a nice time Observing. People either find her really fun to be around or creepy. No in between. She went through a phase where she thought it was funny to creep people out by saying really messed up things so that probably didn’t help. Actually, DURING said phase, she single-handedly made and maintained the best in-school friendship we ever had for 4 years. Literally none of us talked to her except for Jez. She just had endless “creepy” conversation topics and Robin thought it was *amazing. * She/her pronouns, I have no idea sexuality wise simply because she does not talk about that kind of thing. Current fave thing: inking pens :)

Jokul: (sworn enemy, tried to kill myself once to take him down with us) Perfectly reasonable person realistically. Nothing particularly wrong with him. I just Do Not Like Him. Especially since for as long as I can remember, we’ve made it a game to torment each other. You see, we both hate boredom more than anything else, or at least we did when we were even younger and more naive and we’re not actually malicious, and yet foolishly prided ourselves on not being nice and also our ability to manipulate people. No, little kid me was probably not actually an expert on manipulation, we just thought we were at the time. This all resulted in us taking our boredom, pent up malice, and desire to prove we were better than one another on each other. Such a great idea (sarcastic). We did in fact get better at emotionally wounding people after years of practice, and predictably (if we had any foresight on this matter at all) it backfired! I did in fact turn this skill against the one person I cared about in an effort to push them away during one of my breakdowns and it resulted in 6 suicide attempts, not including my own. Jokul has been trying to manipulate me positively since (both of us have been ordered to be nice to each other by Miyuki because we were causing too many problems) and it has Not Worked. If he was a separate person, I would skin him. The only person I’ve hated so much. We’ve been on relatively good terms lately. Been capable of having casual conversations. Things are okay, I guess. His personality is entirely fake, so I don’t know how to describe it except for how he acts when we’re trying to hurt each other, which might be him dropping his mask or it might be a whole different act just for that. Pronouns: He/him. Sexuality: He can change it at will? I think default is aroace though? Current fave thing: *Jokul imitation* “My purple silk dress I wear when I’m meeting people and am desperate for them to worship my beauty. I look so irresistibly elegant in it, it makes everyone like me automatically.” His actual answer is Death Note (cringe) (I’ve been yelled at for calling Death Note cringe)

Gracelynn: (headspace ex-bestie) Everyone thinks she’s the nicest person ever and super loyal and so on. She is to other people but apparently not to me anymore. Still finds it difficult to empathize with people and care about them, but apparently decided to be nice anyways. Like she doesn’t get the fuss about friends but she’s here for them anyways. Spends as much time daydreaming as possible these days, used to front A TON a few years ago. Extremely shy and full of social anxiety and anxiety in general. Goes nonverbal in a plethora of social situations. Freakishly good memory. Has way less memory gaps than I do and I have no idea why. She/her pronouns, probably aroace Current fave thing: brace yourself for no surprises, a tie between horseback riding and the Chronicles of Amber.

Ryo: (the alter of many names: Ryo, Rachel, Ry, Rei, R) The newest. Noticed a new voice and behavior that did not match any of ours a while after the events of 3.5 years ago. Might be coincidence, might not be, I don’t care. Kind of down to earth and practical and normal compared to the rest of us. Despite him being here for years now I don’t know that much about him partially because I don’t care and haven’t been paying attention, and partially because system communication hasn’t been that great (I’ve also been getting way more memory gaps! Whole days lost! Isn’t that great? (sarcastic)). Pronouns: varies, any are fine. (Despite us, in general, identifying as gender fluid so we don’t have to explain, Ryo is the only ACTUALLY gender fluid alter in our system) Aroace. Current fave thing: He said sleep, he wants us to go to sleep. (refuses to answer the fun question genuinely) Well Ryo, you have just failed my vibe check. Your reward is uh,,,AT LEAST 13 more hours of being awake. Yayyy

(I did colors here but the all green theme will stay in other posts <3 Really if I had to describe our auras it would be different shades of blue anyways.)

#if you actually read all this thank you and why #alters #system #headspace #DID #headmates #dissociative identity disorder #hal rambles #mental illness #long post

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

Failed-Night Stand

Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: A one night stand with a handsome stranger that doesn’t really end up being a one night stand.

WARNINGS!: Has some spicy mentions, ages 14+ !

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k+

Just to Clarify:

(B/F/N) = best friend name

(Agency) = the hero agency, you get to choose because I can’t.

This is an adult!au, where everyone has graduated UA years ago

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

A deep inhale cuts through the muffled city-morning sounds of birds chirping and cars honking, tired eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal a room not at all yours. Light filtered in through the large, pristine window.

You slowly sat in a bed mind-blowingly comfortable, taking in the unfamiliar space. Nope. Definitely not yours. That was easy enough to tell, especially considering your room wasn’t light blue, nor were there walls lined with All Might figurines and assorted medals and trophies.

Confusion momentarily sat in your system, the haze of sleep still residing in your mind gradually dissipated as tiny gears shifted into motion.

Oh dear.

Groaning, you let your sitting form fall back against the bed with a soft thwump, letting your eyes slip back shut. It was pretty easy to tell what had happened last night, if your lack of clothes and the stale stench of sweat clinging to your body had anything to say about it.

An alcohol-induced one night stand.

With who? You couldn’t quite remember, despite the fact that the soreness in your throat came from screaming his name at some point in the night. It was impossible to even remember what took place, the last thing that you could recall happening was passionately kissing plump lips as large, warm hands traveled down exposed arms. One thing that you did remember, though, were his looks paired with an adorable personality. No doubt were they part of the reason you were here in the first place.

Judging from the lack of a person in bed and empty open bathroom connected with the room, he either left or was somewhere else in this apartment. You prayed for the first, not wanting to have another awkward encounter with someone you slept with the night before.

With a hum, you rolled out of bed, shakily getting to your feet. By god did it hurt to even stand, just how big and rough was this guy? He seemed like such a sweetheart.. Then again, most people lose themselves in the heat of the moment. It was quite flattering, really.

As you stumbled about the room, picking up and putting on the undergarments you wore last night, memories slowly came into your mind. Alcohol was such a funky thing, only allowing you to remember certain things off the get go and wait for more to trickle in or figure others out.

Luckily, or what seemed to be lucky anyway, the first was occurring.

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

The beat of drums pounded in your ears as you slurped at a cocktail, cringing at the almost addicting burn. Another Friday out late at a bar, drinking to soothe emotional cuts and bruises that manifested over the course of a particularly rough work week.

It’s always fun working late because your boss in an incompetent dick-wad.

Working in a hero agency is mostly everyone’s dream, but god were there always mountains of work and unreasonable deadlines.

The desire to drink and relax with friends overthrew your weak sense of judgement, knowing it’d be better to have just stayed home with your beloved cat than go out and potentially get a migraine from the music that was too damn loud.

Luckily this night didn’t turn into what they usually did, no guys have tried to get into your pants yet, more than likely from the choice to dress cozy and not sleazy. Who wants a tight fitting dress when you could have a comfy sweater?

“You’ll n-ever believe who I met toooodaayyy~” (B/F/N), who was a horrific lightweight, slurred with that goofy drunken smile that always brought a laugh out of you. It was just too funny, childish glee radiating from them whenever their conscious got seized by the devil's drink.

“Who?” chuckled Katsumi, someone you had met in college and gotten along well enough with to become friends and welcome into your pair, officially making it a group. Pretty sad how small it was. Perhaps you were all too picky with potential friends, who were you to complain though? It’s better being close to a select few then have an army of people you barely know, right?

(B/F/N)’s sweaty arm slithered behind your neck, bringing you closer to them as if to grasp onto their last bit of sanity before turning into an incomprehensible child to spew out their story.

“Ground~ Zerooo~! Can you believe it..? He’s soooo cut-e~”

“Yeah right!” Katsumi snorted, sipping at a fruity drink, something he was never afraid to order.

“I did..! Don’t you believe me, (Y/N)!”

Playfully, you tapped your chin with a finger, “Hmmm..”

The whine that you pulled from them was worth the act.

“I did! I did!” (B/F/N) felt the need to chant, arms raised high and face scrunched up in frustration. “Sure.”

“He smacked my ass!” They pouted,

Katsumi and you both shrieked with laughter, eyes watering from the no doubt large ass lie. My, how serious they looked too!

As if they’d ever meet a rising pro hero, the chances were too slim to even consider it. More than likely it was a weird dream they had but fought against it to make it seem real. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Couldn’t blame ‘em.

Going to take another sip of your drink, desperate to cool down your overheated body from the heat drifting off everyone and mixing into one big shit show,disappointment flooded your being to find it empty, nothing but melting ice left in the glass.

“I’m going to get another drink.” After getting a reluctant understanding nod from your friends, you stood up, waddling to the bar and plopping down on one of the highly used bar stools.

Surprisingly, it was cooler over here, no doubt from the many freezers resting near the bar to hold wine coolers, beer, and other assortment of drinks people liked to be cold. Ice could only do so much, especially when it melts faster than Olaf in front of that fire. Typically they lasted longer, but maybe time flew by without your comprehension of it doing so, causing the ice to melt faster than expected. It wasn’t fully melted, you’d give it that.

But that wasn’t to say it was all that pleasant, drunk off their mind young adults littered the other stools, shamelessly making out.

You huffed, unable to be one to talk on the account that you’ve personally been there before, much to your horror.

“What can I get you, (Y/N)?” Yokuto, the kind owner and barista of the bar in his mid fifties questioned, a small smile on his face at seeing one of his favorite customers. Has he mentioned that before? No. Did you believe it because you were somewhat narcissistic when tipsy? Yes.

“Mm..” Humming, (E/C) eyes looked over the large menu, “let’s go for an old fashioned.” A classic drink, good for giving you that delicious buzz without knocking you on your ass. Well, depending on how many you have that is. Hopefully that bite to eat before drinking tonight will do you a good service.

“Ah, look at you. Adventurous tonight, are we?” Yo teased, all too used to preparing you basic drinks.

“Shhshshshs.” You hushed him, not needing to go through the same conversation once a month despite it being one of the highlights of the night. Tonight would be relaxing, spent with your friends, boy were you determined to make that happ-

“Put it on my tab.” A man with a sweet yet deep voice interjected. Ah shit. Here we go.

You rubbed your temples, sighing. Of course this would happen when you didn’t want it to, that’s how it always works right? Can’t get laid when you want to, but suddenly everyone wants you the moment you’re not interested. ‘No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.. Maybe.. He’s just being nice!’ Your mind decided, internally desperate to be left alone.

“Very well, sir!” Chirped Yo. The fucker. I mean, at least you get a free drink?

That was always a plus, especially considering your student loans often times left very little money to buy such expensive drinks. Typically old fashions weren’t expensive, but it always depended on the bar you went to. Either way, ten bucks seemed over priced. Because of this, t’s like this man was a godsend, because no doubt this drink would’ve been the last your budget could’ve allowed.

Turning, you were just about to offer a ‘thank you’ before your voice caught in a dry throat. My, my, my, a godsend indeed, in more ways than one. This man was absolutely gorgeous!

Disco lights reflected off his shimmering emerald irises, soft looking curly green hair bouncing as he took a seat beside you. Lord, did you just want to touch it. Surely he was making big bucks, that much you could tell from his appearance alone. A suit too pristine and finely fitted to him to be bought from any old plain store, a watch large and complicated to match. His face was gorgeously sculpted, but still somehow managed to have chubby cheeks leftover from childhood, skin clearer than a piece of paper. Not only that, but those faded freckles dusting his cheeks were the cutest thing imaginable, his smile--- his smile? Why was he smiling? Not that it mattered considering angels were singing around it, the golden glow of heaven behind his head,

“Hey?” Sound re-entered your ears upon seeing his kissable lips move, ah shit has he been speaking this entire time? And you just zoned out?! Fuckfuckfuck-

“H-hi..” You stuttered, currently too tipsy to feel all too embarrassed about it. “Thank you uh, for the drink..” It was hard to keep such an overactive mind focused on talking and not making yourself look like a fool in front of someone ten times out of your league. Hell, were you even trying to be in his league? A calm night, right? No hullabaloo.

“No problem!!” His eyes shifted around the bar, smile now nervous as a light blush coated his cheeks, “I just.. Uh..”

It was almost impossible not to coo at the adorable sight in front of you.

He glanced back, your gaze following his own to a group sat at a table meters away, all holding men giving him a thumbs up. Now just what was that about?

Without giving it too much thought, you grabbed your drink and took a sip, patiently waiting for the mystery man to finish his thought.

“You’re just.. Really cute.. And I um.. Wanted to get to know you a bit..?” He stuttered out, gnawing on his plump bottom lip, the bastard. How dare he say and do something so enticing? Clearly without meaning to as well. Or perhaps this was his tactic all along, not that you were entirely beginning to mind.

Besides, he did buy you a drink, what’s the harm in chatting for a bit?

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Funny how chatting led you to a handsome man's apartment and unable to remember parts of the night. Were you complaining? Absolutely not. It was easy to admit that last night certainly helped bring your week to a nice ending, but the intense ache between your legs almost wasn’t worth it.

It was just then that the appetizing smell of bacon wafted under the bedroom door, or perhaps it was always there but you were too caught up in your own world to realize it. Regardless, your mouth watered, tummy rumbling from lack of food, but surely it wasn’t for you.

It was funny how he was still here, though you should expect as much since this was his place and it was a Saturday.

Perhaps once you find your purse, you could grab breakfast at a Denny’s or something..

A shriek followed by violent coughing tore through your throat as the door suddenly opened, the savory smell of breakfast food hitting you full force.

Not allowing yourself the time to look at him, you turned around, “Ah s-sorry.. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute..”

Gah. He must be pissed that you’re still here. Forgetting about sulking, you took a step towards your discarded sweater, violently cringing at the awkward angle and pain. By no means were you a virgin, so the only way this could have happened was if the guy was absolutely humongous and rough as shit. Not like your lust-filled self would’ve minded.

“Wait wait! Ah, sit down! You’re in pain!”

“Wha?” The clang of a tray being set down and dishes rattling echoed in the room as you were suddenly pushed back onto the bed.

“Wh-what are you-?!” You were shushed as a glass of water pressed against your dry lips,

“Here, drink this. It’s water!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes absentmindedly trailing up muscular arms all the way to his worried face.

This all seemed a bit too suspicious, never having been treated so kindly after a one night stand. Well, so far ‘kindly’ was a bit of a stretch but at least you now had something to finally moisten your screaming throat.

Eagerly wrapping a hand around the cold glass, you chugged like your life depended on it, which it probably did considering how dehydrated you felt.

It was almost as if the water cleared your head more, for memories hit you like a freight train. Nervous touches, untrained yet gentle hands, sweet moans filtering through your ear, the pure ecstasy of last night. Your face flushed, teeth grinding slightly as you fought off the memories to actually look as professional as you could, as you were currently only in your undies.

“I. um.. I figured you would need some since you were..ah..”

Amusement flooded your being watching him suddenly turn red, his eyes trailing over your barely clothed body before whipping away to the other wall. What a gentleman. At least you remembered his name now, on the account of praising it last night. Midoriya Izuku. Cute.

Gulping down the last sip of water, you were dead set on teasing him, curious to see what reaction you’d get. Even though now and before he seemed like a shy baby, which he probably is, you remembered clearly how dominating and hot he was. “Screaming and moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Gahh!” He shoved his red face in a pillow he grabbed, incoherent mumbling escaping the crevices of it.

Oh how precious he is. It was unusual to see an adult act this way, but it certainly was welcomed with open arms.

His head shot up, realization crossing his features. “Ah! You’re in pain right? I’m really sorry..” Guilt sunk in his shimmering mesmerizing eyes, sunlight bouncing off them from the open curtain adjacent to the bed. “I was.. I lost myself last night and was a bit too.. rough with you. I’m sorry. Really, I am..”

He was apologizing..? This was new, but it sure did feel nice.

Just as you were about to speak, he picked up the tray beside him on the floor and plopped it into your lap.

“I uh! I made you breakfast-! The pill is a standard ibuprofen for the pain.”

It was as if his voice was made of honey from how sweet and smooth it was, the pure innocence of it wrapping around your body in a warm blanket.

How refreshing it was, but..

A teasing smile made its way to your lips,

“You’re new to this whole one night stand thing, aren’t you?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, the flustered man clearly trying to form a sentence in his head.

“I-I- I.. N-no um..”

Humming, you took the pill, washing it down with water before you cut off a piece of pancake, tugging it off the fork and into your mouth and almost moaning at the flavor.

Sighing in defeat, he pouted up at you, “How can you tell..?”

You licked your lips slowly, marveling at the way his eyes followed its movement, “One night stands don’t usually involve breakfast in bed.”

“Well.”

He stood up, moving to sit next to you, awkwardly patting his thighs as you munched on a piece of crispy bacon. “I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t just be a one night stand.”

Confusion contorted your face, “You want another round? I wouldn’t be opposed-”

“No!” He interjected hands waving frantically as his face burned a vibrant vermillion.

“I meant like..! Like me taking you out on a proper date or something..! I.. I don’t want this just to end..”

“What do you mean?”

“I like you.”

“...huh?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, praying to every god out there that he didn’t sound like a major creep. He wasn’t! You both just so happened to work in the same building, and his eyes just always naturally pick you out in a crowd, sometimes drifting to you when in the same room or passing by. Granted, he’s in his hero costume then where his secret identity is sealed from the public. It sure would be nice to tell you who he truly was, but he couldn’t let his cover be blown. Even if he did like you, trust was something no longer so easily gained after having the career he did. He’s seen what happened to people like Shoto and Tenya, he had no intention of having ever part of his personal life blown up like theirs. And so, he would stay hidden behind a green and silver mask.

The dilemma at hand, though, was telling you of his affections without seeming like a creep they’ve never seen before, which he probably would anyway considering you had no idea he was Deku.

It was actually a pretty lucky thing he had no merchandise of himself, in his home out in plain view that would give himself away. True, he had no idea he’d be lucky enough to take you home, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about it. You both had been drinking, and before he knew it, you were beneath him in his bed.

He was a lucky man to have been able to get you there in the first place, but you seemed interested enough in him. Truthfully, he was scared you’d immediately leave upon waking up, wanting nothing to do with him like he’s always heard from his friends and their one night stand experiences. It was nice that you actually stayed and ate the breakfast he spent far too long on.

Here goes nothing.

“I’ve actually noticed you around work for a while now. You’re so reliable and kind to your co-workers, always the goofball cracking jokes to pass time.. Last night, my friends encouraged me to finally talk to you.”

Wait! He sounded like a total stalker just now didn’t he! Gah! You look like you think he’s a creep! Fuck! He probably is isn’t he! No! He isn’t- oh no,,

“N-not that I’m stalking you I swear! We just happened to be at the same bar at the same time..! I had no idea it would lead to this..”

What a word vomit. It was endearing, really. You couldn’t help but giggle, he was just so cute.

The giggling only made him blush harder, hands quickly going down to grasp at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit he picked up somewhere along the line.

“It’s okay~” You sang, immensely happy to know someone actually likes you and desperate to calm him down a bit, despite having no idea who this handsome stranger was. By god wait that sounded kind of creepy.

It’s not like you needed to know a stranger well to sleep with them, but it sure did peak your interests to know he was a fellow co-worker at a hero agency.

“Thank you for the food, by the way.” You took another bite of fluffy pancakes, turning to look at him again, “So you work at (Agency)’s too? I’ve never seen you around before.”

You always had a knack for noticing almost everyone, and you pride yourself on knowing the majority of people considering you’ve been working there for three years now. It was strange, surely you’d notice such a strong stud.

Wait.

“Oh! You’re a hero, aren’t you? Those scars and muscles, paired with the fact that I've never seen you before, you must be?”

Shock slapped his face. Bingo.

“Heh. I knew it!”

That victorious smile that graced your lips immediately died off once you noticed him clearly internally freak out. He looked like he was about to pass out, eyes wide and pupils shrunk, mouth shakily trying to speak.

This certainly wasn’t how you wanted this to play out, but beggars can’t be choosers?

“H-hey calm down..! I don’t know who your hero persona is, if that helps!”

Geeze, you pulled yourself into a mess, didn't you?

Lips pulled into a worried straight line as you tried to calm him down by rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh! Ok, good! Ah..” He breathed a sigh of relief out his nose, chuckling bashfully, “That’s a relief.. I don’t think you’d be even the slightest bit interested in me if you knew the other guy first.”

It was hard to tell if this meant he had a completely different personality when in the suit, or if he just all around dislikes his normal self. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it would at all be the first option. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to prefer being their hero-sona rather than, well, them. ‘Confidence comes from the ability to impress and protect people!’ You recalled one hero exclaiming on the screen when that topic popped up late one night on a talk show interview.

It was sad to see such great people felt that way.

“Well. I don’t need the other guy. I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s possible, Midoriya.”

His face instantly brightened, that beautiful smile from last night resurfacing, the light from that window making it look like a halo formed around his head. Which wouldn’t be too weird considering he was practically an angel already.

“R-Really?!” He excitedly asked, sparkles dancing in his eyes at the implications.

“Yes-”

“Then how about I take you on a date today then!! I know this really great restaurant and they sell these cheesy biscuits..!”

You would’ve gotten whiplash if you hadn’t already been expecting this. You smiled sweetly at him.

“I’d love that.”

Thus started your relationship with Izuku, unknowingly the bright pro her, Deku.

“But uh.. Can I get changed now..? And I need to call my friends-”

“Ah! Right! Yes, of course! Sorry-”

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #this is a mess oops #deku x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #deku bnha x reader #izuku x reader

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sevenincubistolemyheart · 5 years

Text

Blood Bag

Au: Mafia

Tag list: @xsunnyhoseokx

Rating: T

Potential Triggers: Kidnapping, Nonconsent(for Vampire biting only), Manipulation, Character Death

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader, BTS x Reader/OT7 x reader

Genre: Horror, Drama

Length: 4.3k+

Summary: When Kim Namjoon came to give a lecture to your Public Speaking class you couldn’t help but be vaguely annoyed now that you had someone to direct your irritation at. After all, there were so many groups who would go unnoticed in the wake of these 7 boys' success. When you accidentally make eye contact with him and run into him at a cafe while doing your assignment on his lecture things take a dangerous turn and you find your feelings of unease about the boys were correct firsthand.

You'd first met him when you were in college in Seoul. The transfer program was no joke nor was the workload but you wanted to excel in your job as a translator. You'd heard of BTS of course. Who hadn't? They'd all but taken over the world with their reputation.

Still, you'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit bitter.

After all; so many groups worked just as hard as them yet would fail due to lack of sales or notice in the wake of their triumphant success.

It just...made you frustrated. More at the industry than anyone in particular...but then he came in and suddenly there was a source to direct your irritation at.

He held himself with confidence as he walked into your lecture hall for public speaking, clearly projecting the image of the ever secure in himself leader everyone knew him to be. Girls were whispering among you frantically, nervous giggles leaving their lips just from his presence alone.

It made you uncomfortable and caused you to cringe.

Even without your resentment, he was a person. Not a fucking light-up toy to “ooh” and “ahh” at.

You looked down at your notebook to begin doodling aimlessly as he seemed to be conversing quietly with your equally star-struck professor.

It was almost enough to make you groan aloud. Was there no-one who realized how ludicrous it was to act like this over a single Human being? It wasn't like he was giving up his life for them. He was just giving a single lecture, and probably being paid handsomely to do so.

You didn't realize you'd unintentionally made eye contact until Kim Namjoon himself smirked knowingly at you.

Your heart jumped up to your throat in fearful surprise as a blush filled your cheeks, even as you straightened your back and forced yourself to glare defiantly into his copper irises.

His smirk only widened in response...and then he began speaking, stalwart gaze never leaving your own in a clear test of wills.

Words can’t properly describe the effect his words had on the class. You swear you could hear a pin drop as they all immediately rushed to quiet themselves and barely breathed.

Truthfully, you barely registered them; too lost in his hypnotizing gaze for a moment, the way his eyes seemed to refuse to unlock from your own had you swallowing nervously...and then your gaze hardened and you dropped it as you instead began intently scribbling in your notebook.

You refused to act like all the other cattle surrounding you.

You would not be tricked by this charismatic deceiver.

Unbeknownst to you, said deceiver hid a cunning smirk behind his hand as he watched you scurry out the second he was done with his lecture.

How absolutely intriguing.

-----

'Nothing is quite as motivating as fear. Well; except maybe love and adoration.'

That was the first line on your paper on Mr. Namjoon's lecture. You stared at it, feeling the truth of it yourself as you thought back to the flush that had filled your cheeks.

Irritation at him getting to you bubbled in your gut until a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"That's supposed to be about me? How do you figure?"

His voice was husky, like he'd just woke up; he was referring to your assignment as he leaned right over your shoulder to look at your screen. You tensed at the close proximity and slammed your screen shut as you whirled on him with a scowl.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your concern, sir. I have an assignment to do so if you wouldn’t mind…”

You motioned for him to leave through gritted teeth in some form of a smile.

He observed you for a few moments before a chuckle left his lips and he stood up to his full height and grabbed your wrist and began walking away with you just barely managing to stuff your laptop into your bag before he relinquished that from you as well with a flourish.

“Where are you taking me? Let go of me right now or I’ll scream.”

Your voice was a venomous hiss and he stopped abruptly, making you bump into him, He turned suddenly and you stopped breathing as he cornered you right in front of the cafe and leaned down to coo into your ear, voice so soft you could barely hear it.

“Try it. Draw attention to us. Your identity will be found out, you’ll be doxxed and you and your family will be tormented. Not to mention I have your laptop and it sure would be a shame if you had things on here you didn’t want others knowing to get out. If that’s what you want; then by all means scream.”

You were left with no choice but to stumble after him, heart now beating a mile a minute as he turned on his heel and walked away, dropping his grip on you as he knew you’d follow.

You were right. He wasn’t what he pretended to be...but then...what was he planning to do with you now that he’d intentionally outed himself to you? Why did he?

Your mind spun with questions as he walked until you both reached a nondescript black vehicle. He held the back door open for you but you knew the action wasn’t gentlemanly. The smile he wore was too threatening; his eyes held no emotion as he held your bag firmly in his grip.

You steeled yourself, raised your chin and got in the back as he shut the door; sealing your escape route and leaving you entirely under his control.

You felt like a helpless moth, knowing the flame would spell the end but still completely enraptured, drawing ever closer to your own demise.

What could you do to get out of this? There had to be a way.

You reminded yourself to stay calm, knowing if you panicked he’d see it as yet another weakness to be taken advantage of.

How did he know you so well? Were you truly so easy to read? You thought for sure you’d hidden your annoyance at him well but even so...he was a minor inconvenience on your radar. Hell, you never thought you’d see him again after that lecture save maybe at the presentation where you read your oral presentations on him!! And even that was a long shot.

“How did you know where I was and what do you want with me?”

The question was blurted out before your filter could hold you back and Namjoon turned to smirk at you as the driver continued on stoic as ever.

“You really are a bold little thing aren’t you?”

Your eyes hardened even as a shiver went down your spine at the almost predatory glint in his eyes. You couldn’t let on you were afraid. You just had to be strong until you found an opening to escape.

Or so you tried to think until a lithe arm wrapped gently around your throat and tugged you against the back of your seat so you couldn’t turn to look to see your captor.

Their voice told you they were male though and you didn’t so much as breathe as he cooed near your ear at Namjoon, leaning his chin on your shoulder as his free hand played with your hair affectionately.

“Isn’t she fun though? We haven’t had one with such spunk for a while…”

Namjoon snarled in retaliation as your eyes showed your genuine terror at the realization that this boy had been lurking behind you this entire time out of sight.

“There is no we. She’s mine Jimin. Back off.”

The arm relinquished its hold and you whirled to meet playful brown eyes. Jimin? He...was one of the other members of BTS that much you knew. And that he was supposedly the “pure” one of the group. Ha. Your frustration finally spilled over into genuine panic.

“What the fuck do you people want from me!? Threats or no so help me the second you stop this car I will scream. Blackmail me, try and hurt my family if you want; your reputation will be the main one to suffer and I will make sure you go down.”

There were a few beats of tense silence before Jimin’s sharp laughter abruptly broke it before he brusquely cut it off and you tensed at the feeling of a sharpness on your throat, swallowing nervously as Jimin spoke quietly into your ear, voice deathly calm.

“Look at you, trying to threaten us. Naughty girl. Maybe I should teach you some manners, put you in your place~”

"Jimin!"

Namjoon's animalistic snarl cut through the air and you could hear the pout in Jimin's voice as he pulled away, pink hair blinding your vision momentarily as he hopped from the storage area into the seat beside you.

"Ahh, you're no fun hyung~"

Your mind was spinning. Now, your life was truly at risk. Sure Jimin had the strength advantage and you were also under Namjoon’s control as you had no clue where you were going but now there was a knife involved. Jimin had a weapon. Your carefully constructed mask was starting to crumble and you didn’t realize you were crying until Jimin brushed away a tear with a joyful giggle.

You hastily wiped the rest away as you wrenched yourself away from his touch, pushing yourself as far towards the window as you can as you looked out it, trying to get a sense of your surroundings and attempting to calm down and control your breathing.

Damn it. Why were you so weak? This was not the time to panic.

Namjoon glanced back at you, watching you with quiet contemplation shining in his gaze.

Silence filled the car then and you eventually managed to doze off, occasional silent tears falling from your eyes as you hid your face in your arm as best you could.

Maybe when you awaken next you’ll be back in your favorite cafe and this would end up being nothing more than an unbelievable nightmare.

-----

You slowly returned to consciousness, cuddling closer to the warmth enveloping you; breathing slow and even. You awoke with a start scrambling to get our of the person who was holding your grip as you realized you were moving.

"Who are you? Where am I? Put me down!!"

Namjoon sighed merely tightening his grip on your legs, holding you with one hand supporting your bottom as the other pressed your shoulder into him so you couldn't scratch at him or hit him.

"God, you're loud. Relax. We're almost there. Jimin went on ahead to warn the others."

Your mind caught up with you as you remembered how you got in this situation and what had transpired beforehand.

Others? Like Jimin? Would they all be so violent, ready to slit your throat if you put up too much of a fight?

Namjoon must've sensed your fear because he let out another heavy sigh.

"No-one is going to lay a hand on you or hurt you. Just be a good girl and cooperate okay? We just need to figure out why you seem to be immune."

"Immune to what? And why are you acting so nice all of a sudden!? You're the one who kidnapped and threatened me in the first place!!"

You hissed, eyes sparking with anger. At least you felt validated since he was indeed as off as you'd felt he was the first time you laid eyes on him.

Namjoon merely shrugged and went quiet, choosing to let the two of you remain in silence as you walked.

You huffed, crossing your arms.

"...I can at least use my legs, can't I? Seeing as I have no idea where we are you can trust I won't run."

Namjoon barely spared you a glance before he shook his head.

"It's not safe. If I put you down; the forest will take you. You need me to get through here safely. Otherwise, you'd be nothing but fodder."

You sagged in his grip, finally just giving up. This didn't make any fucking sense. He had to be delusional right? Absolutely off his rocker talking about forests taking you. Hell, they probably all were crazy. Jimin did hold a knife against your throat after all.

By the time Namjoon has led you into the cozy wooden cabin in the woods you were starting to doze off again- only awakening when an excited voice broke the silence.

"Ooh! Hyung you found her? She's the one with the shield right? She somehow saw past your magic?"

You jolted, turning to look with wide eyes at who you guessed was the youngest one thanks to his apparent innocence.

Another unfamiliar voice groaned audibly

“Wait to go Jungkook if she wasn’t, we would’ve either had to alter her memories which we don’t have the energy to do right now or kill her.”

The words didn’t register until you locked eyes with the broad-shouldered tall male and you took a step back on instinct at the cool glint in his eyes, bumping into Namjoon in the process as the beginnings of panic began to make your stomach churn again.

“Why don’t you all just shut your fucking mouths? You’re making her scared.”

Namjoon muttered.

You jumped in surprise, a sharp gasp of pain escaping your lips as a boy suddenly appeared in front of you, black hair and red eyes staring you down as he gripped your upper arms with an amount of strength that had you wincing.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing if she can resist our charms. Tell us sweetheart have you figured it out yet or do we need to spell it out?”

His voice was little more than a low rumble and you felt your breathing starting to pick up as tears of both pain and being overwhelmed pricked at your eyes.

“Please. I just want to go home!! I don’t care what you are or what you want with me! I’m just a college student for God’s sake!!! What could I possibly have that you want!?”

Your voice rose in reaction to your emotions and the boy gripping your arms gave you a smirk that had you freezing in place in fear. Or rather, you thought it was fear.

You couldn’t move.

“Wrong answer. As for what we want…? For starters...I suppose I am a bit peckish. What about you Jimin? You haven’t eaten since yesterday yeah? Come have a bite.”

Your mind was spinning, trying to process what was happening, what they were saying and why Namjoon wasn’t doing anything to help you. He defended you earlier why wasn’t he-?

You would’ve screamed if you could have at the sharp sound to your left- the familiar sound of bones breaking as Namjoon’s lifeless body was tossed to the side, a little ways in front of you by a new blond male who had entered the living room.

Yet another new face appeared in your peripheral as a man with dark brown eyes and hair to match came into view, a self-satisfied grin like that of a naughty little boy on his face as he giggled at your horrified gaze.

“Don’t look so scared baby. He’ll come back. I’d worry about yourself~Name’s Hoseok."

The blond boy-Taehyung, if you were remembering from that perfume ad correctly, stepped over Namjoon’s body carelessly.

“Namjoon get too big for his britches again? Honestly, he could use that big brain of his for more than showing off his manipulation skills he’d see we're all just as equally gifted Some of us just choose not to show it off as much.” He raised his index finger to his lips, shooting a playful wink your way.

“That’ll be our little secret, okay Hutie~?”

Jimin snorted as he slung an arm around your shoulder, making you slam your eyes shut in terror.

“Hutie? What kind of stupid nickname is that?”

“Human and cutie together? Aww c’mon! It totally works Jiminie!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yah! You're just jealous you couldn’t come up with something so cool on the fly!”

You would’ve screamed if you could.

Namjoon was dead and these two were bickering over nicknames!?

“Can we eat now? Please? I’m gonna start without you.”

Yoongi grumbled, catlike red orbs making your stomach do a backflip.

“Heh. Cute. Look at you all worried even though Namjoon’s the one that kidnapped you. Trust me, he wasn’t doing it out of the pureness of his heart. He just wanted the first bite. Oh. And you’re right in your guess. We’re Vampires.”

He responded, but that didn’t bother you. What bothered you was that he was apparently in your head.

His smirk widened as you tested your theory.

‘Yoongi’s my name doll. And yes, you’re not going crazy. I can talk in your mind like this too as well as hearing your thoughts. See since I’m the one that paralyzed you, I have complete control over you, including that. I’d explain more but like I said...I’m famished after having to hold back so long.’

You wanted to cry out, scream, beg...anything to make him stop as his lips approached the soft, vulnerable skin of your neck but there was nothing you could do. The feeling of his sharp fangs against your neck made your eyes widen in remembrance of Jimin’s assault earlier. ‘Not a knife…’ You heard Yoongi snicker against your skin as he purred in your mind. ‘I am glad Namjoon held him back. I’m glad it gets to be me to take you.’ You finally got back your ability to speak and move just as he bit down and you felt your knees give out along with a loud gasp of surprise. If Seokjin hadn’t lunged forward to wrap his arms around your waist from behind you surely would’ve been overwhelmed by the pleasure that hit you and fell to the ground.

“Wow, she looked so surprised!”

Jungkook giggled and you weakly grasped at Yoongi with trembling fingers to wordlessly tell him to stop as you bit your lip as hard as you could to frantically keep from making any sounds, instead catching Jimin’s shirt in your grasp.

As pink hair tickled the side of your face you knew you'd made a mistake. He positioned himself in front of you, leaving you no choice but to see the smirk on his face before he leaned down to nuzzle the opposite side of your neck to Yoongi who was still relentlessly sucking away, the only sounds leaving him the occasional hum of delight or sigh.

"Don't worry angel. If you think one is good, let's see how you handle two~"

You could hear an almost resentful edge to his voice; you guessed it was because Namjoon had held him back earlier but in any case, just as he was about to bite down Seokjin interrupted him.

"No. She'll lose too much blood with how much Yoongi has taken. Not to mention she'd probably pass out from pleasure first with how blown out she looks right now."

You saw Jimin's eyes darkened in anger as he raised his head and while you couldn't see Seokjin, the faux innocent yet dangerous tone in his voice was enough to make you shiver.

"You remember how it felt for you when we Turned you, don't you?"

Jimin froze and you swore you saw him flinch though just as quickly he was on the other side of the room with a final wordless snarl.

“Good boy. And Yoongi; that’s enough.” When he didn’t respond, he repeated his name voice growing sterner.

“Yoongi.”

He didn’t so much as grunt in acknowledgment. In fact, it seemed like he only redoubled his efforts and you were genuinely getting lightheaded and losing strength when there was a blur of brown and Yoongi was pulled off of you by his hair.

He hissed and writhed in the other Vampire’s grip, switching between trying to get back to you and gnashing at the younger-looking boy's hands.

“Try it again. Go on. Lunge for her one more time. I fucking dare you. You won’t have a piece of her again for a month. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook’s voice had dropped a few octaves and you watched in awe as Yoongi held his gaze for a moment before he growled and finally sagged in his grip in submission, making Jungkook simply nod once and release him.

You saw Hoseok taking a worried few steps towards you as Seokjin finally released you, thinking you’d gotten your bearings and come down from the sudden assault. You barely registered the feeling of something being pressed to where Yoongi had bitten you before the world spun and a strong grip caught you as you swooned and fell forward. You barely registered the gust of air that ruffled your hair lightly and then you were being laid down gently on a bed in another room. You’d barely registered whoever caught you must've carried you with inhuman speed before you fully fell unconscious.

-----

When next you awoke, it was with a start as you looked around in a frenzy and stumbled out of the bed. You all but fell out of the room you’d been left in as you stumbled into the living room looking around as you tried to get a solid grasp on your surroundings and regain your bearings.

“Hey! Calm down, you need to rest you’re not fully recovered yet!!”

The slightly scolding voice by your ear made you flinch as you looked up to meet Taehyung’s gaze. Your eyes narrowed in distrust as you looked around and reluctantly let him lead you to the sofa where Seokjin and Hoseok were both waiting.

Jungkook sat on the chair diagonal to where you were sitting observing you curiously.

“Here. Drink this. You need to replace some of the blood you lost and this will help.”

Taehyung’s explanation permeated your thoughts as you observed the bottle of cranberry juice in your hands.

“It helps promote blood flow around the body by lowering the stress on your blood vessels. Given you’re going to be our blood supply and all-”

You hopped to your feet in fear at his words but Jin grabbed your wrist, easily halting you with his superior strength as he shot a vaguely miffed glare at Taehyung.

“...Couldn’t you have used a little more tact? Honestly. I know it’s tiring wearing masks for our fans all the time and we have a Mortal who knows what we are now but she’s still a Human being with emotions. You know how sensitive they are.”

Taehyung shrugged.

“What’s the point in hiding it from her? She bears the mark of the Bangtan clan now. Even if she tried to run, it’s not like she could get far in the forest. Even if she did somehow make it out, If she tried to talk about what she’d witnessed no-one would believe her.”

Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Tae’s got a point. We’re the most popular boy band in the world. People think we’re in a management building in Seoul right now when we’re right in the center of Fae lands.” He clasped his hands behind his head with a smirk. “Making that pact with them was a damn good idea. It’s the perfect place to take our donors and other blood bags.”

“What makes you think I’ll even willingly go along with this huh!? You can’t keep me locked in this place forever! I have family, friends who will notice that I’m missing!”

Seokjin’s polite smile turned a bit strained and his grip tightened slightly on your wrist.

“Funny. You say that like you’ve got any damn choice in the matter. We’re superior to you in every way. And honestly? All we have to do is bite you if we want you compliant for a little while. Our saliva has a potent aphrodisiac to you Humans, it’s why you became so overwhelmed and couldn’t really fight back. In smaller doses than what Yoongi gave you we can keep you nice and calm for as long as we desire. And that’s not even taking into consideration our physical superiority over you. As for your friends and family...well.” His eyes tinged with a darkness that had your eyes tearing with despair. “Easily deal with. We have the money to make it go away without so much as a snap of our fingers.”

“In other words..”

You gasped sharply as Jin finally released your wrist and Namjoon raised your chin to look into his eyes, a self-confident smirk on his face at your shock and horror as he looked down at you both literally and figuratively.

“You’re entirely at our mercy babygirl. Oh. And Taehyung. Kill me again like that and I’ll break every bone in your body next time when it’s your turn. You know my neck is sore as Hell because of your little temper tantrum.”

He grunted as he cracked his neck in an attempt to loosen it some.

There were so many questions spinning in your mind. How was Namjoon alive? What was the deal with the immunity he mentioned earlier? Where exactly were you?

But...in the end, did it truly matter? Did any of it matter? You were going to be nothing more than a slave to 7 boys who were fooling the world with their fake smiles and charms while using you as their constant source of sustenance.

If only you hadn’t locked eyes with Namjoon that day. Maybe he wouldn’t have known. Maybe you would be in class right now, or eating brunch with your parents. But instead you were here; in this house, now no more than a simple meal.

As you sunk into the couch in defeat you sighed, closing your eyes.

What were you going to do? What could you do?

This was the end. A bad one perhaps...but an end nonetheless.

266 notes · View notes

marvelous-writer · 5 years

Text

Monster Mash

Summary: The Stark family gets invited to a Halloween party at the Compound, only Peter fails to mention that he’s sick.

Happy Halloween, everyone!!! 🎃🕷🕸🕷🕸🎃

Link to read on Ao3:

The plan had originally been that Tony, Pepper, Morgan, and Peter would all dress up as a family of vampires for the Halloween party the team was throwing at the Compound.

That said plan was going right down the toilet now because somehow, Peter got sick.

“Pete you ready? We have to leave in five minutes!” Tony calls from downstairs.

“Yeah…” Peter groans into his pillow, hair damp from the shower he’d gotten out of minutes before, only to have a dizzy spell when he bent down to grab something, resulting in him lying down until it was over.

Only getting up feels like a lot of work right now.

Why does this always have to happen to him? He’s been looking forward to dressing up and going to the party tonight, especially since Halloween was one of his favorite holidays outside of Thanksgiving and Christmas. One thing’s for sure, he definitely wasn’t telling or letting anyone know that he’s not feeling well because that would mean missing out on the party, and Morgan’s been so excited about going since Tony told them about it. Peter definitely wasn’t letting her down, not over a silly little cold.

No. He wasn’t going to give in to this. It was just kind over matter.

At least that’s what he’s been trying to tell himself all day, since waking up horribly achy and groggy.

“Gotta get up…” Peter murmurs to himself, sucking in a grounding breath before he slowly pushes himself up.

Thankfully his vision doesn’t blur like it had earlier, so that was a win. Peter rubs at his face tiredly, hands dropping in his lap as he looks over at his closet, eyes landing on the black tuxedo he was supposed to wear tonight. It was the same one Tony had bought him for that Stark Industries gala a while back.

The last thing Peter wants to do right now with how he’s feeling, is wear that horribly uncomfortable thing for heck knows how many hours tonight. Too bad there wasn’t something else he could wear, something more comfortable and Halloweeny.

An idea suddenly pops into his head.

…….

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tony dryly says, an unimpressed look on his face, decked out in his black tuxedo, his hair slicked back with hair gel.

Peter shrugs, dressed head to toe in his Spider-Man suit, wearing the cape over it that he was supposed to wear over his tux. “What? I’m… uh… Vamp-Spidey? Spider-Vamp? Spire?” Peter weakly says in his defense, holding his arms out.

Morgan giggles at Pepper’s side, who are both decked out in their costumes, a form-fitting shiny black dress on Pepper, and a cute black dress with a flowy black skirt with orange and silver sparkles.

“Do you have any concept of a secret identity?” Tony asks.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, right? The team already knows who I am and it’s Halloween. I can just keep my mask on all night if it bothers you so much.” Peter lightly says.

Tony closes his eyes and punches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head with a sigh. “You know-fine. You look great, kid. Let’s just get in the car. We’re already ten minutes late.”

“Not late enough for your taste though?” Pepper asks, looking like the perfect bride for a Vampire.

A smile tugs at Tony’s mouth at her teasing. “Ha ha. Come on.” He says as he opens the front door.

…….

By the time they arrive at the Compound, it’s five-forty in the evening and the driveway is a literal parking lot. In the half hour drive over, Peter ended up taking an impromptu nap, which did nothing to help the exhaustion that’s heavily weighing him down and the car ride didn’t do anything to help his stomach.

When they arrive on the Avenges’ floor, the lights are dim, party lights flashing and glowing around the room, the speakers turned up playing The Monster Mash. There are a couple of people dancing in the cleared out living room but people seem to be mostly standing around mingling, snacks and punch in hand.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show up.” A voice comes over the music.

Peter looks over and does a double take when he sees Clint, who’s dressed as Black Widow in a black skintight bodysuit, red wig and all.

Tony snickers at the sight of the man. “Wow… looking good, Barton. Who’s idea was this?”

“Eh, I lost a bet to Sam. Loser had to dress as Nat.” The archer shrugs. “But hey! You guys look amazing as a family of Vampires and-” His eyes fall on Peter, brows pulling together in confusion. “And Spider-Man?”

“He felt like being creative tonight.” Tony explains, an amused grin on his lips.

Clint hummus, brows raising as he nods. “It’s certainly different, but hey, what the hell, right? It’s Halloween!” He smiles, holding his arms out. “You guys go on and have some fun!”

Pepper smiles, “We’ll do that. You too.”

Peter follows behind them further in the room but Clint claps his hands around his shoulders, stopping him.

“I’d just avoid the blue punch. I think Nat spiked it.” Clint whispers.

Peter raises an eyebrow under his mask. “Why? With what?”

“Don’t know, some fun juice if you know what I mean. Sam’s a wee bit off his rocker and I’m feeling a bit buzzed.” Clint grins. “You and your sister stick to the red punch bowl, got it?” He says, gently patting his shoulders.

“Got it.” Peter says as he watches him stalk off towards the kitchen.

Peter walks around a little bit, taking in all of the costumes and the shockingly lifelike decorations that were littered around the place. There are a bunch of skeletons and webs hanging on the walls, as well as fake blood spatters.

Peter’s stomach churns at the sight of it all, so he has to tear his eyes away and focus on looking for Morgan. Despite disappointing everyone with his costume choice, he’s immensely grateful that he’s wearing his suit with how loud everything is, his mask already dialing down the brightness and sound levels.

He finds Morgan by the snack table with Pepper, where Happy and May are, laughing a something. They’re both dressed as 70’s hippies, definitely May’s doing, but Happy looks pretty, well… happy. The both of them do.

Peter watches Morgan licking the frosting off of a cupcake that resembles an eyeball, cringing when he sees her frosted covered tongue licking at the top.

“Hey, there he is!” May smiles when she sees him, smiling brightly, her light pink glasses shining in the lighting. “Spider-Vamp.”

Clearly she already bumped into Tony.

“Or-what was it? Spire?” Happy throws in with an amused grin.

“Oh, haha.” Peter rolls his eyes, as May hugs him since she hasn’t seen him in a few days since he’s been staying over at the lake house for the weekend.

They all talk for a few minutes, before Morgan pulls Peter away into the kitchen so she could get a drink. Peter avoids the bowl of blue punch and goes for the red, poring Morgan and himself a cup. He rolls up his mask to his nose and takes a small sip, cringing from the sweetness of it. Morgan doesn’t seem to mind it as she happily drinks it, while Peter cautiously sips at the overly sugary beverage.

They go back out and stand with Pepper, who was now talking with Natasha, who was wearing a Hawkeye costume, her red hair tied up in a tight ponytail. There must’ve been a story behind that costume choice.

“Oooh, Petey look! Games!” Morgan excitedly squeals, tugging on his arm as she points at the other side of the room, where multiple Halloween themed games are spread out, like pin the arm on the skeleton.

He raises an eyebrow at that, wondering who was behind that one. Clint probably, maybe even Sam.

“Well let’s go see them.” Peter tells her, earning an excited squeal from her.

……

An hour pass by, and at this point, Peter’s regretting not telling Tony and Pepper he wasn’t feeling good so they would’ve stayed home.

The filtering in his mask isn’t helping Peter out that much with all of the noise and bright lights around him, and he’s developed quite the headache over the past thirty or so minutes. But then again, his senses are always extra sensitive whenever he’s sick. Which he certainly wasn’t.

Mind over matter. Peter tells himself, brows pulling together when his stomach strongly disagrees with the one cup of punch and a few snacks he’s had tonight.

He can feel the sweat building up on his back and on his forehead, regretting wearing his suit. He could have just dressed up as a ghost with a simple white sheet over him and wear whatever he wanted underneath it.

Peter is standing beside Morgan, who’s been playing the skeleton game for the past ten minutes. There are a lot of kid games here but Morgan seems to be the only kid here.

At least she’s having fun at this thing though.

Peter closes his eyes, wishing that there were chairs or something around so he could sit. He’s starting to feel a pinch but lightheaded all of a sudden, which probably wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he just needed some water.

Peter opens his eyes again and his eyes roam over the costumed partiers until his eyes land on Tony.

“Hey, M? How about we go see what Daddy’s up to?” Peter loudly says to her, bending down to her level so she could hear him over the base of the speakers.

“Okay.” She nods, seeming alright with abandoning the games.

Peter takes her hand and the two of them make their way through the sea of people, taking a few moments until they reach Tony. All of the movement is making Peter dizzy.

“Ah-there you two are!” Tony smiles when he sees them. “Having fun?”

“Yeah… lots.” Peter says, with no real excitement behind it. “Uh, I’m just going to grab something to drink.”

“Okay.” Tony nods as he smiles at Morgan and picks her up. “And how are you my little Vampire Princess?”

Peter can’t hear her answer over the loud music and voices as he turns away and walks over to the kitchen, maneuvering around the crowd.

The kitchen is thankfully empty when he walks in, and he breathes out a shaky, relieved breath as he pulls his mask off. He winces from the onslaught of bright lights and sounds, a dull throbbing behind his eyes as his headache ramps up a few notches.

Peter makes a beeline to the refrigerator but he pauses when something catches his eye. He looks down at the countertop of the center island next to the sink, fear shooting through him at the sight he’s met with.

A cutting board is out, with a severed hand right on top next to a butcher knife. There’s blood everywhere, all over the board, the countertop and all over the sink. The hand looks so realistic that there’s a piece of bone and mangled flesh peeking out from it.

Peter’s stomach violently twists, as saliva rapidly fills his mouth. His eyes widen fearfully as his eyes dart around himself for something to throw up into, knowing that there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable from happening.

He moves for the sink but pauses, noting how absolutely disgusted that would be for a guest to find him upchucking in a sink, plus he never wants to lay eyes on that hand ever again in his life.

Peter’s eyes land on a trash can by the refrigerator and he practically dives for it, making it just in time before he’s heaving into it, throwing up what little food he’s eaten all day.

He doesn’t even hear the footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

“Peter?” He recognizes Happy’s voice. “What the hell-are you alright?”

Peter tries to answer him but opening his mouth but he gags, finding himself bent over the barrel again, painfully retching.

“I’m… I’m going to get Tony or May. I’ll be right back. You just… stay there.” Happy panically, sounding like he had no idea what to do.

Peter only groans in response.

Not even thirty seconds later, Tony rushes into the kitchen.

“Oh, Pete…” He sympathetically says as he walks over to him, placing a hand on Peter’s back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

“S’ the hand’s falt…” Peter moans into the barrel.

“What hand?” Tony asks, confused, probably looking around the kitchen for it. “Oh… that hand. Yikes. Yeah, that’d do it for me too. I’m going to have a serious talk with whoever did that, and my money’s on Clint.”

Peter remains silent, focusing on keeping his stomach as still as possible. He feels like absolute garbage, no pun intended. His head is pounding now, a dull pulsating behind his eyes and he feels horribly woozy, but thankfully less nauseous now.

Tony’s hand pauses on his back. “Was it just the hand that got you sick? You’ve been acting off all day.”

Peter caves and shakes his head. “No... been feeling sick all day.” He confesses.

Tony breathes out a sigh through his nose. “Kid, this is why you have to tell me these things. I knew something was up with the whole costume switch.”

“M’ sorry.” Peter softly says into the trash barrel.

Tony continues rubbing his back. “It’s alright but please let me know from now on when you’re not feeling good. Okay? Please? You know I have a heart condition.”

Peter silently nods in agreement.

“Think you’re done?” Tony asks after a few minutes of them standing there in the middle of the kitchen.

“Think so…” Peter says as he slowly stands up.

He leans against the counter, avoiding looking towards the sink, watching Tony seal up the garbage bag and take it out from the barrel. He turns around and looks at Peter, concern etched on his features.

“How about we head on home? Get you into bed?” Tony suggests.

Guilt floods through Peter at that. “No, you guys should have fun-”

“Pete, I can’t have any fun when I know you’re feeling this miserable. Besides, we’ll just make up for it at Thanksgiving.” Tony says with a small smile, gently placing a hand on his back, steering him out of the kitchen. “Let’s go find Morgan and Pepper.”

As soon as he says it, Pepper appears right in front of them with Morgan in her arms, looking concerned as her eyes land on Peter. “Oh, Peter, sweetie. Happy said you weren’t feeling well? I was just coming to check on you.”

“Yeah, he’s not feeling so hot so we were going to find you two and see if you wanted to head on home?” Tony says.

She nods. “Yeah that’s probably a good idea.”

Peter leans into Tony tiredly as they head towards the elevator, the bass painfully beating against his ear drums, beating along with his pounding head.

“Wait.” Peter stops suddenly when they’re at the elevator. “I gotta tell May we’re leaving.”

“Uh, yeah… don’t worry about that, kiddo. She’s a wee bit out of it right now.” Tony says, leading him inside the elevator.

“Oh… she must’ve had the blue punch Clint told me about…” Peter mumbles.

“Yeah and a little too much of it, I’m afraid. Happy told me they were leaving anyways when he found you.” Tony says, pressing the bottom floor button.

…….

Along their drive back home, Peter falls asleep in the back of the car, his head pillowed with his and Tony’s cape, the radio playing a soft classic rock in the background.

He wakes up sometime later, when they’re halfway up the stairs, finding himself in Tony’s arms.

“Are we home?” Peter sleepily murmurs, head resting against the man’s shoulder.

“Yeah, bud.” Tony softly says as he walks across the hallway to Peter’s room.

Peter hums, letting his heavy eyes slip closed once again.

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pockets-stuff · 3 years

Text

I see people posting about Catolor and I got inspired to write this down. This is mostly for me to look at when I wanna write this first interaction between Mags and my oc Mavi later, but I also thought sharing with people might be fun? IDK, is cringe culture dead yet? Am I gonna get booed off stage? Anyway there’s a read more so you can skip if you want lmao

So, my version of sirens are all afraid of cats. Why? I think it's funny. But Mavi is especially scared of them though. Like, she's afraid of three things: fire, cages, and cats.

Kirby doesn't know this. He thinks Magolor looks more like an egg anyway, so it wouldn't come up even if he did.

Kirby also doesn't really have a filter when talking on the phone, he just hits start and doesn't stop because he's worried about awkward silences. He's better about it in person since he can see if the other person is okay with the quiet, but he still rambles sometimes.

So he ends up blabbing about the whole Master Crown incident and how Magolor built them an amusement park to apologize.

Mavi's like, "haha, yeah, I know all about that, my whole friend group is made of ex-villains" and is totally cool with it.

Even so Kirby apologizes to Magolor, cuz he feels bad about telling someone else about it without permission.

At first Mags is kinda angry with the little puff, since that's not exactly the first impression he wants people to have of him. It only lasts for a week though, mainly because Mavi drops by Dreamland for a visit a bit before Star Allies, and Kirby brings her to the Lor to introduce her to Mags officially to show she's alright with him.

Marx is also there, just chillin out while Magolor is tinkering with something. They aren't quite dating at this point but they're still extremely close, and it's obvious to literally everyone else that they like each other. They're both oblivious idiots though.

Mavi sees Mags and freezes. Her wings pop out and she flies straight out of the Lor and into a tree. Her feathers are puffed out and everything.

She's just screaming about Mags being a cat. Magolor is yelling that he's Halcandran and not a cat. Kirby's trying and failing to calm her down. Marx is losing his shit in the background and absolutely recording it.

Mavi only calms down when Magolor goes back inside. She's hella embarrassed and she apologizes to him. She’s on edge the whole time but it turns out all right, they even hang out afterwards.

Magolor is honestly just glad she's cool with him being friends with Kirby, since she's basically his big sister. It's good teasing material for later anyway.

After that, they're pretty alright friends! She still gets spooked every now and then by some of his cat quirks when they're together in person, but they talk a lot in the Dreamland groupchat and ask each other questions about each other's cultures and stuff.

#oc stuff #kirby oc #fic stuff #my fanfic ideas #search for this later lmao #I'm cringing at my own thoughts lmao #kirby

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obwjam · 5 years

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hear me out- Bucky having made friends with a borrower, and that borrower being tortured by HYDRA in order to bring back the winter solider

i have heard you. and i shall answer you. i actually LIVE for the “tiny comes from a place of torture and is rescued by a big friend” trope. like, absolutely obsessed. the dynamic is A++++++

(tw: mentions of blood, torture, guns)

taglist: @nightmarejasmine @burrpoetry @thepoolofthedead @the-original-space-cowboy @gttrash @smolkuriboh27 @bittykimmy @misfitsgalaxygt @a-black-pegasus @smol-jar-of-pickles @sanderssidestrash27 @snack-at-midnight@haveyouheardofborrowers @pomelo-chan @sammigruber @gttrash@tiefling-trickery @bittykimmy @random-sanders-dragon

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Bucky blamed himself.

There was no one else to blame. If he had never talked to you, you would have gone your whole life without getting into trouble. You would have kept borrowing peacefully, blissfully unaware that he knew your every move. He had been watching you for so long and you had no idea. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to finally meet the tiny that lived in his walls.

When he first saw you, he had no words. He had never seen something like you before. He watched in the shadows as you carried grapes in your arms like a giant beach ball. He was hardly upset; it was a treat just watching you do what you do.

He watched you for weeks. He found that you came out at the exact same time every night, because at that point, he was usually asleep. He never left food out on the counter per se, but he made sure to be a little extra clumsy while cooking from time to time.

He was enthralled. He couldn’t stop. At some point, he figured, it bordered on creepy to watch you without knowing anything about you. It was hard pinning you down the first time he met you -- literally, he tried to pin you down -- but eventually, he found out the best way to talk to you was no grabbing and no looming.

You two were surprisingly similar. You were both pretty quiet and reserved, both had tough pasts. You both knew what it was like to lose friends and family. You knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t belong.

Now, it all felt like a trap. Hydra had been hunting Bucky for months. They knew he now had the protection of the Avengers, so swooping in to attack him was no longer an option. Somehow, they needed to lure him back to their base.

And you were the perfect bait.

During a failed attack, Hydra had at least managed to bug the place to keep tabs on Bucky’s habits. They were pleasantly surprised to discover that he had a tiny companion that he seemed to be very fond of.

“P-please, s-stop-stop... “ you begged, but you knew it was worthless. You were going on your fifth--no, sixth?-- hour of torture. The first few hours, you just sat in a cage in a dark room. Complete and total isolation. The growing anxiety of when, who and what was coming for you next drove you into a panic so frantic that you spent a half hour trying to rip away at the cage’s wiry bars.

Finally, when someone did show up, their presence was enough to make you cry. They opened the cage and lifted you up by your shirt, dangling you higher and higher in the air once they saw how furiously you kicked your legs. They moved their fingers from your shirt to your torso, spinning you around in the air as they observed you.

“What a sad little creature…” they whispered, squeezing you incrementally harder and smirking as your face contorted from the pain. Your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head as the air flew out of your lungs like a vacuum sucking up air.

You were dumped onto tables, prodded with tools, flicked by fingers, gazed down upon by dozens of eyes and held in place by pieces of tape. Oh, the tape was the worst. All you could do was look straight into the eyes of your captors. They would rip off the tape and replace it with new strips for fun, just to watch the tears leak from your eyes.

You knew exactly why they were doing this, too; Bucky had told you just about everything. There was a part of you that was begging him to come and save you -- you had never felt this kind of pain before. But that was Hydra’s intention. You had to be stronger than this. Your best friend’s life was at stake.

Bucky’s hair was whipping so fast he thought it might fall out. He hadn’t eased his grip on his handlebars since he got on his motorcycle. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he just let you come with him on his grocery store trip? To think that your safety was his concern…

He kept repeating your name under his breath. To say it out loud, it was his only way of convincing himself you were still alive.

You cringed underneath the magnifying glass being held over you. The heat from the lamp above you and the way it filtered through the glass made you feel like you were sitting next to the sun. You could feel your clothes soaking with sweat.

There was a loud bang somewhere off in the distance. Men were screaming, guns were firing and boots were thumping.

He was here.

Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of fervor in a long time. He was barely thinking as he knocked out agent after agent. He didn’t even feel like he could be touched right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to be. He knew it was a trap, but his only goal was to rescue you.

“Where ARE THEY?!” he screamed as he fired bullets into the chest of another agent.

The doctors who were handing you looked up. They almost couldn’t believe the anger in Bucky’s voice. They knew you were important to him, but they may have underestimated just how important.

“BUCKY!!!” you screamed, knowing full well you’d be punished for it. “BUCKY! IN HERE! BUCKYYYYYYYYYYY!”

You suddenly felt the force of a giant hand over you. One of the doctors slammed his entire palm over you, intentionally pressing it against your body. You tried to scream, but couldn’t open your mouth. You were lucky to get some breaths in.

Bucky heard something small. It sounded like his name. He thought it could be even more of a trap -- that whatever voice he was about to follow wasn’t actually yours. But in this dark, damp facility, it was all he had to follow.

“You little rat,” the doctor hissed at his hand.

“Take your hand off them. If they die then he’ll go mad,” the other doctor insisted.

“If he hears them, he’ll come in here,” the first doctor said, sounding nervous. “And we don’t want him to--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. The door burst open and Bucky ran through, gun pointed. The two doctors cocked their guns in response, finally giving you some air. Bucky immediately saw you.

“What have you done to them,” he growled. He could see the glint of blood dripping from your head.

“Nothing permanent,” the doctor snarled, chucking his gun aside to lunge at Bucky. Bucky blocked every punch and dodged every kick, holding his own in this two-on-one fight in the small room. He put his gun back in his pocket so he wouldn’t accidentally fire it at you.

As the giant men fought, you squirmed in the tape. The more you wiggled, the more you could feel the stickiness wearing off. Even though the tape dragged and pulled at your skin like a dog pulls on a rope toy, you managed to get one of your legs free.

“Longing,” one of the doctors yelled in Russian. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“No,” he whispered, taking a swing at the doctor. He missed.

“Rusted,” the other doctor yelled next.

“NO!” Bucky took another wild swing.

“FURNACE!”

“STOP IT!” Bucky swiped, missing the head of the doctor narrowly. His force propelled him forward and he smacked into the desk where you were pinned down. You looked up in horror as the bookshelf on the desk started to shake. Luckily, nothing fell.

“(Y/N!)” Bucky gasped before the doctors spoke again.

“Bucky, what’s going on, what are they saying, what’s--”

“DAYBREAK!”

Bucky clutched his head, his breath picking up. He looked down at you, bleeding, sweating, crying and shaking. He hadn’t seen someone so roughed up in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry buddy, this shouldn’t have happened,” he breathed. “I should have just-- I should have protected you.”

“Stop,” you said, hiccuping between breaths. “Stop, stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’m glad you found me.”

Bucky smiled -- the closest thing he’s come to a smile in a long time, anyway -- as he turned his attention back to the doctors.

“Seventeen,” one of them said. Bucky’s hand was shaking as he reached for the gun in his pocket.

“Bucky, whatever it is, don’t listen to it,” you pleaded. “Please… please, I need you!”

Bucky shut his eyes, repeating your name in his head over and over. He felt the cool surface of the gun’s handle scrape his fingertips.

“Benign.”

A flash of pain went through his skull. He gripped the gun.

“Nine.”

“Homecoming.”

“One.”

“Freight c--”

Boom.

The first bullet flew right through the chest of the first doctor. Blood began slowly leaking from the circle wound as the doctor clutched his chest and staggered backwards. The other doctor was taken aback, giving Bucky enough time to put a bullet through his chest before he could utter the last word.

In an instant, the two doctors were slumped on the floor, lifeless. Bucky dropped his gun and ran over to you.

“Please, hold still,” he said, raising his shaking fingers to the edge of the tape. You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth as he peeled it back.

“OwowowowowOW!” you said impulsively.

“Sorry, little guy,” Bucky muttered, moving over to the next strip. He felt guilty for hurting you.

“This--ah!--isn’t your fault,” you said, reading the guilt all over his face. Your jaw was quivering at the sight of his giant trembling fingertips inches from your face.

“Stop saying that,” Bucky said snidely. “Just let me get this off of you.”

You wondered why it hurt less getting the tape off your leg, until you tried to stand up. You had lost all feeling.

“Woah!” Bucky stuck his hand out, extending his pointer finger. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Well, I guess I can’t feel my left leg,” you said, pushing on his finger and using it to stand up. “That’s new.”

“Aw man,” he said, starting to twist his hands underneath you. “Can I…?”

You nodded, letting him take the pressure off you as he lifted you slowly into the air. You fell back into his palm and leaned back on his curved fingers. Staring up at his billboard-sized face freaked you out for a moment, if only because you were still reeling from what just happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Bucky mumbled as he stepped over the bodies of the doctors. He looked back down at them one last time, just to make sure.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said, staring down at the bodies with him. You had never seen a dead body before and you hoped you’d never have to again. “Y-you had no choice.”

“I should have never dragged you into this mess.”

“Bucky…” you sighed. “You, someone with a sick metal arm and literal superpowers, wanted to be friends with me. You thought I was cool. I still can’t believe that. And now you’re… you’re my best friend. I didn’t care that these goons took me. I only cared that you might get hurt trying to find me. Or that I’d never see you again.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was smiling, probably because he forgot what it felt like to do that. What you didn’t know was that Bucky thought you were much stronger than him, in all the ways it counted.

“I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, (Y/n),” Bucky said quietly.

You smiled. “Just let me come to the grocery store with you next time.”

Bucky laughed the smallest of laughs.

“Only for you.”

#we love soft bucky!!!!!!#marvel g/t #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #gt #sorry i answered this straight up so i cant add a read more and i cant reupload rn

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

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i’m very bemused about the developments (nothing really happened lol) re: riawin this episode..........

like naturally her implying like “oh you’re wholly unattractive to me of course” is. not the most encouraging and natch like, i guess overall my takeaway is to be like “well i guess i should brace myself harder for the intention re: this arc to just be that winston has a hopeless unrequited crush and rian thinks he’s alright but is wholly uninterested b/c why would anyone be interested lol” And Yet i still can’t write it off as [winston is just gonna be the butt of the joke as a cringe loser with a fail one-sided crush] b/c like. it still wasn’t entirely clear-cut??? and it’d be really easy to shoot him down even harder / have her be more obviously repulsed and >:/ about it or whatever

like a) complicating factor that nobody’s sober in this scene, though we can maybe read into it as both of them being a bit more Unfiltered than usual and b) complicating factor that it’s been made clear that rian likes to mess with him and has prior insulted him while not Really making it about dunking on him, i.e. her calling him a douche while arguing for him Not being fired, and here it’s like....his attention can’t be Completely cringe and fail to her, in that she’s like. fine to talk to him, obviously he’s at least not like, getting the [oh god the quant being interested in someone? how awful for them b/c that must be so gross and annoying / frustrating for them] and. at the very least rian seems not antagonized l o l.......not saying the most, but it would be Very plausible for billions to have gone that route of like. the Joke being that someone is dealing with the cringe quant’s fail romantic interest

aaaand again i’m moved Slightly more in the direction of “://// guess i’d better at least Expect it could very well just Stay a one-sided crush” like, keep that 60/40 or whatever lol, And Yet.......you’d think that it’d be 100/0 either way by now? as weird as it is that, if this is something that’s gonna Happen, we’re 3 eps in and nobody’s kissed b/c usually billions gets there in 2 episodes so that’s a hell of a slow burn, on the flip side it’s Also weird that we’re 3 episodes in and winston’s been crushing from the start and he hasn’t had that crush entirely shot down either? like, if billions was doing the “joke” of winston being a loser whose Interest / attention is Obviously unwanted and repulsive to whomever is the would-be recipient, it’s hardly cashing in on that joke very much? and it’s odd that this is being so drawn out lmao like. you’d think it’d have let that be a running joke of winston showing his [i have a crush] hand too much and rian going “ugh god” about it a few times and maybe finally dunking him into “I Am Clearly Completely Uninterested” zone but like......while this was, again, hardly encouraging, it hasn’t been That. aaand i’m not sure what billions would be saving that for?

like, even without the behind the scenes, info, 5x05 pretty clearly establishes Winston Has A Crush, and then their content in 5x06 isn’t very heartwarming but it still continues that, and here we have winston clearly like. seemingly not Not as taken with rian as ever even after that would-be disheartening exchange. sure, it Could just be like, putting the emphasis on being Hopelessly smitten or whatever lmao, but like, why are they continuing to set this up???? i suppose they might just at some point forget about it / drop the thread for no reason l o l but let’s assume they Don’t, billions isn’t the most prone to like. something like this being Built Up and then fading out quietly with no mention. so you know, either Relationship happens or a bit of heartbreak does. or i suppose it could be relevant in some totally coincidental way where like, the quant having Feelings plays into something that would otherwise be unrelated in an unexpected way. if this Isn’t unrequited, it’s taking a while to get there by billions standards for sure, and if it’s doomed, it’s Also taking a while to get there, and you’d think billions would lean harder into the Joke of winston’s crush being wholly unwanted and so cringe & fail of him or whatever

like ultimately this has all sure been Very set up and it’s sure weird we don’t really know where this [the Quants] plotline is going lmao like. made it v clear winston has a crush, and for What? which isn’t rhetorical like, seriously, for what lol. cuz going into this i’d’ve thought a) they’d get around to kissing already or b) winston and/or him having ~feelings~ for rian would not come up at all or c) he’d get fully shut down......and it was weird that it Did come up again but he was once more only kind of shut down but not out and out rejected? like, is this just a really slow burn, where she’s continuing to enjoy messing with him for the moment (we know she Knows he likes her and like, despite the lowered filter, it’s weird to arbitrarily bring up how hot you find something or someone or not l o l ....), or i suppose it’s possible she could like him Better as time goes on, billions doesn’t tend to wanna take its time with this stuff, but who knows, it Is taking its time with this one way or another. b/c otherwise like, this is a little mean of the show towards the character lol if the plan is for this to be a 4ever Unrequited Crush and he’s still pining 3 eps in and who knows how many more after this? not like billions has been too interested in being kind to winston, but s5 Has been better for him in some ways for sure, and again it *is* like. telling us for three episodes in a row “winston has a crush” like. okay and what’s going to come of that!!! if the “point” of dragging this out is just like. haha winston has a crush, what an idiot, then that’s like....mean to him lmao & you’d think if it was the point, billions would be Meaner about it, since like, all of s4 was like “look how Everyone is annoyed by winston and expressing this disdain for him and he doesn’t know how to have any social appeal, let’s dunk on him” lol.........and like, the even worse version of that i guess would be like, rian knows he likes her (which we know is true) and it’s entirely unrequited (which Might be true) and she likes messing with him (which seems to be true) and is just like, having fun using his crush as an avenue to thusly mess with him. which would not be nice. hopefully that’s not the case, b/c it doesn’t seem like rian does have any genuine contempt for winston or anything like that, and b/c i wouldn’t want her to be someone who does actually want to talk to him (which does seem to be true also lol) but whose Amusement with him (which has seemed 2 be harmless so far) is like. Does have a contemptuous streak to it where it’s like, she might not want to openly dunk on him or roll her eyes or tell him his metaphors are stupid or whatever, but it’d be more along the lines of like, the inherent Disrespect of viewing him as more a source of entertainment than as a person you’d want to connect with in any way. that would suck & it’d be mean of the show to be like “here’s someone who doesn’t hate winston from the start!!! but she just fundamentally dislikes him in a way that manifests entirely differently, actually” l o l..........this Worst Route would be so unnecessary in so many ways

anyways but yeah just writing out thoughts here and i’m like, well this episode all could’ve been worse lmao, and it’s just a little perplexing why this is The Third Episode In Which Winston Has A Crush and there just hasn’t been any resolution one way or another? like, what is the plan for this. rian kind of going out of her way to imply he’s wholly unappealing sure means that even if he’s clearly sweeter on her than ever that’s sort of......cancelled out by her first saying something about him Would be hot if it wasn’t him, and then by telling him she knows he likes her but just.....changing the subject lol..........like, why wasn’t he just smacked completely down in this episode. it wasn’t encouraging, i’m moving a step towards “well i guess it’s slightly more likely it’s meant to be Eternally Unrequited rather than a total coin toss” but i still don’t feel like it really tipped the scales either way and i wish it would’ve lmao like. if i *did* really think this was nailing the coffin shut i’d embrace that, would rather be bitter about it but have closure going into an indefinite hiatus than not. but this is still weirdly up in the air and yet they’re clearly like “this is a thing!!! winston having a crush on the rian is a thing!!! for these past three episodes” and that’s a long time in terms of Billions Arcs for us to Essentially be in the same place as the end of 5x05. if winston’s feelings aren’t returned and aren’t going to be at any point, why does his crush still matter? why not just let it be like, winston expresses his crush more clearly, rian more clearly lets him know it’s never gonna happen? if they Are gonna kiss or something, why is rian being quite as negative there lmao and why is it getting such a slowburn. it’s definitely a case where Winston’s Feelings Matter and don’t seem to be a total joke, which i appreciate, but i’d also appreciate some resolution here, is the tl;dr i suppose lmao

#winston billions #riawin #like if the poitn of this Was ''winston has a cringe crush and doesn't that just suck for rian'' i'd expect billions to be going about this #entirely differently really......but of course i'm not sure how to intepret how they Are going about it #guess we will hopefully see.........please.........#ugh in a timeline w/o an entire pandemic we. would not be on indefinite hiatus w/ over the final third of the season left to go.............#c'est comme ca. or whatever. im [just english] as well #with just enough [twice completing an app teaching mandarin] that i Do occasionally dream in Attempting To Speak It...to limited success #considering naturally that course of [intro to a language] was never meant to be like You Are Fluent Now.......

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