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cillian-gets-me-wetter · 2 months

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Hey can you write something about Joe and reader. Can it be like enemies to fwb. Joe bumps into reader at an event, he teases her about her stalking him and being obsessed with him but the reader just happens to be there because she’s genuinely interested in the event. Maybe after the event Joe decides to invite reader to like a after party kick back in his hotel room or home depending on the setting you choose and thats where they get intimate. Make it super smutty. Reader isnt famous in anyway she works in the field like a data analysis or statistician something other a journalist please, and you could make their rivalry or hatred stem back to college days.

NO BC I LOVE THIS CONCEPT SM YES YES YESSSS and i have the perfect song inspo in mind too :))

if u think i’m pretty - joe burrow x fem!reader

requested by: @multiflcs :))

warnings: exes to enemies to ??? (i’m sorry, all i know is complicated relationships tbh), smut (18+ ONLY), oral (fem receiving), joe is a certified munch (y’all can’t tell me otherwise), overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex, BIG DICK JOE, riding, hair pulling, spitting, mention of unrequited love, praise, implied height difference, no use of y/n, brief cameo from ja’marr

disclaimer: i do not own any people, teams or organizations i included in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim my work as your own. comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!!

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so hopefully you enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing this!

here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸

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i know that you're shitty and you're bad for me but i can't stop thinkin' 'bout it

as you walked the past the red carpet, you made your way inside the event venue, which was packed with celebrities, athletes and other public figures alike. as a data analyst for the 49ers, you were sent to las vegas to work for the super bowl so it was pretty exciting but a bit apprehensive. you’ve been to many football games for the past four years you’ve worked for the nfl but being able to attend the super bowl was a once in a lifetime experience.

through the connections you made throughout your time working, you scored an invite to the fanatics super bowl party this year so of course, you accepted. you look down at your outfit, which was a simple long-sleeved black cocktail dress, making you feel slightly undressed amongst those wearing luxury designers.

you walked through the sea of people that were socializing and talking amongst themselves to the bar area. the bartender, a woman who looked about your age, “hey, i love your dress! what can i get you?” you smiled, “thank you! and can i get a blue lagoon?” she nodded and began to make the drink. a voice behind you said, “you still order that? old habits die hard, i guess.” you scrunch up your face in confusion and look behind you, seeing the nfl’s golden boy, joe burrow, the sight of him making you sigh and roll your eyes.

you met joe during your second year at lsu, you had seen him around campus, went to some of the football games and at parties so you knew of him. you both had a statistics class together and he was failing so he asked you to help tutor him. you helped him gain a better understanding of the subject and was able to get his grade up. as you two spent more time together and got to know other, tension began to develop.

one night, he asked you to come over and hang out after your shift at a local bar and restaurant near campus. you got off of work and you drove over to his place, it seemed like a normal kind of night between friends, which consisted of ordering in food and taking turns to pick out a movie to watch.

this week, it was your turn to pick so you decided on sixteen candles since he never watched it before. you tilted your head up toward him from where you laid on his chest, “why haven’t you seen this before?” he shrugged as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, “just never got around to it.. i think tara tried to show me this other movie and i ended up falling asleep.”

tara mays was the typical popular sorority girl and cheerleader who thrived on daddy’s money in order to keep up with her lifestyle. her and joe would hook up occasionally but she would always want to make things into something more serious between them. however, joe would always have to let her down easy, insisting that she’s a great girl but a relationship wasn’t something he wanted (at least from her).

the words came out of your mouth before you actually thought your words over, “you aren’t seeing each other anymore?” he sighed, “yeah.. i had to be honest with her and myself about letting it continue.” you perk your head up in interest, “how so?” he looked at the television screen as if he was paying attention to the movie, “i told her i was into someone else.”

you nod understandably, “so.. who is this mystery girl? do i know her?” he looked down at you and smiled softly, “i think you know her very well. she likes to read a lot, she even has her own little library in her bedroom which is very cute. i have her coffee order memorized, which is a iced caramel macchiato with two sugars. her fav-”

you leaned forward and cupped his face, giving him a eager and passionate kiss. he quickly reciprocated the kiss, his hands wandering down your back. he moves away from your lips and starts to leave kisses all over your face, which made you laugh and try to wriggle away from him but his strong arms held you in place. he began to kiss down to your neck, then he flips you both over so that he’s on top.

it made you gasp and a breath hitches in the back of your throat at the way he moved you so effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he can feel more comfortable on top of you. he laughs softly at your reaction, “so.. i guess you’re into me too then?” you roll your eyes playfully, “shut up”. then you grab him by his shirt and kiss him deeply, internally praying that nothing ruins this moment.

the bartender handed you your drink and joe slides his card across the bar table to pay for it. you attempt to push it back in his direction, “that isn’t necessary, joe.” he shrugged it off and gently moved your hand away, “don’t worry about it.” the poor woman sensed the tension between the two of you and silently took his card and swiped it through. she asked, “do you want a receipt?”

before you said anything, joe shook his head and she handed him back his card, giving you both a polite smile. you sip your drink, annoyed at the fact that he even bothered to show up and the fact he pulled this kind of gesture knowing you wanted nothing to do with him. his voice broke you out of your thoughts, “you know… a thank you would suffice.” he dawned those famous cartier sunglasses and those stupid jeans he wore throughout college. even if he did look really hot, he was still the same person who broke your heart after graduation years ago.

you scoffed, “like i said, it wasn’t necessary. i could have bought it myself.” he retorted, “well i wanted to so you’re welcome.” your blood started to grow warm and beginning to boil at the way he was acting. he wasn’t the one who had his heart broken so the attitude wasn’t needed. he clears his throat awkwardly, “are you stalking me?” you furrowed your eyebrows at the audacity of that question. the fact he even asked you that made you want to punch him in the nose.

you laughed sarcastically, “are you fucking kidding me?do you seriously think that i came out here for you?” he shrugged, “well, why are you here then? you don’t know anything about football. you’re too obsessed with me to actually pay attention.” you glared daggers at him as the tension between the two of you grew by the second. you get closer to him and throw your drink in his face, causing attention towards you and him as he wipes the remnants of blue lagoon on his jacket sleeve.

the other partygoers stared both of you down, wondering what happened and what led to throwing a drink in the quarterback’s face. you seethe, “fuck you, joe.” you walked out of the party venue, completely embarrassed and anxious about losing your job since this incident involved a prominent player in the league. you made it outside and walked further down the street to a empty bench far away from all the commotion from the party.

you open your purse and dig through to find your pack of cigarettes that you only smoked when you’re stressed or overwhelmed and desperate times call for desperate measures. you take one out of the pack with your pink lighter, igniting it. you take a long drag and inhale into your lungs, letting it calm your nerves as you exhale. your hands were trembling and your brain was going at a million miles per hour when joe sits next to you.

he looks over at you, his eyes softening at the shaken state you were in because of him. you stare at the cars and people walking by, “if you want to get me fired, that’s fine.” he shook his head, “i’m not going to get you fired or anything like that. you had a right to throw that drink in my face.” you took another long drag as you flicked off some of the ash beginning to build up on top.

you both sat in an uncomfortable silence until he decided to break it, “so you work in data analysis now?” you nod, “yes.. i don’t know how long after what just happened.” he sighed, “you aren’t going to get fired. plenty of people in this field have done worse and received no repercussions. i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get in trouble for this.”

you shook your head, “you wouldn’t understand, joe. you’re a man, if you were in my shoes, you would face no punishment. but for me, it’s 100% a possibility that i can lose my job because of this. you’re a famous quarterback who i threw a drink in his face while i just work for the team.” you felt yourself growing to panic as you anxiously tap your fingers against your thigh, “it’s supposed to be this huge event and i feel like i would be a liability for that.”

he wrapped his arm around you, not caring about the smell of the cigarette lingering on his clothes. his free hand rubbed against your back soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. he reassured, “if anything comes out about it, i know a few people that can make it go away. as for the team, i’m going to talk to them about it being a misunderstanding.”

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to do that for me.” he said, “i want to, okay? i put you through so much pain and i want to make it up to you.” you didn’t notice a few stray tears flow down your face until joe tilted your chin with his fingers and wiped them away with his thumb. his ocean blue eyes stared deeply into yours, “i am so sorry. for everything.”

you flick the remains of your cigarette to the ground and let out a tearful sigh, “i haven’t loved anyone else since you. i don’t think i’m capable of feeling that way towards anyone.” your confession made his heart drop into his stomach. he remembered that night after you both graduated as if it happened yesterday.

as you slowly kissed him after settling into bed after that eventful day, you whisper against his lips, “i love you.” those three words made him stop kissing you. while you two had been dating for almost 6 months, he had no idea if he was ready to say it yet. while he was the #1 draft pick for the cincinnati bengals, you were able to obtain an internship for the denver broncos, which was going to 17 hours away from him.

you noticed his lips stopped moving against yours, you looked at him with concern. “are you okay, baby?” he let out a shaky sigh, “i don’t know if i’m ready for this.” you asked, “what do you mean?” he continued, “you’re going to be all the way in colorado while i’m in ohio. how are we going to make this work if i won’t be able to see you?”

you looked at him, taken aback. “well, we can always facetime and we can visit each other whenever we can.” he shook his head, “we’ll literally go from seeing each other every day to barely seeing each other at all. do you have any idea how hard that is for me?” you rubbed your face, feeling the skin in order to not shut down.

you bite back, “it’s going to be hard for me too! it’s not just about you, joe. we both have our own careers we need to focus on but it doesn’t mean that i don’t love you.” he gets out of your bed and grabs his backpack off your chair, packing up his clothes. “where are you going?” he opened up the drawer you cleared for him whenever he would spend the night with you, shoving whatever clothes that he can fit into the bag.

“i just need space. i’m just going to go back to my place for tonight.” you get up out of bed, standing in front of the dresser so he wouldn’t just leave. “we need to talk about this, joe.” he sighed, “what do you want me to say? that long distance relationships don’t last no matter how much we’d try? get realistic and stop romanticizing this.”

your voice cracks and eyes well up with tears, “so that’s just it then? you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he shrugged, “i really don’t see any other solution.” you nodded meekly, finally moving out of his way. “just get your shit and go.”

you leaned closer to him, burying your face into his neck. he wrapped his arms around you, inhaling his cologne, noticing it was the one you gave him for his birthday. he kissed your forehead gently, “we’re going to figure this out, okay?” you nod and pull away from his embrace, wanting to get a better look at him. he still had the same haircut from college and his cartier glasses were off, the streetlight capturing how beautiful his eyes are.

he stared back at you in awe, he still thought of you as the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. he moved a couple strands of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, the gesture making you melt like putty in his hands. without a second thought, he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against yours, suddenly pulling away incase he misread any signals.

“i’m sor-“ you cut him off by kissing him passionately, your hand finding its home in the back of his head, running through his dirty blonde hair. while your other hand wandered under his plain white t-shirt, feeling his warm body against your manicured fingertips. he wrapped his arm around your waist while his free hand groping your left breast over your dress causing you to moan into the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

his hand moves down to your plush thighs, giving them both a firm but gentle squeeze. his lips move away from yours, kissing down your jaw to your neck. your hand moves back to his hair, giving the roots a gentle squeeze, he lets out a breathy groan against you. his breath tickles your skin softly, his lips finding the spot on your neck that makes your squirm. he sucks against your sensitive skin causing you to mewl at the feeling of him sucking and biting your neck, leaving a bruise that you’re going to need to cover up later on.

he detached his lips from your neck to admire his work, lightly kissing the hickey he left on you, which made you wince. you both smile softly, taking in what just happened and how much you’ve missed each other. he asks, “do you want to head back to my hotel or yours?” you shrug, “it doesn’t matter to me.” he nods, “okay, we’re going to mine then.” he sat up, holding his hand out for you to take.

you hold his hand, allowing him to help you up from the bench and intertwining both of your fingers together. he said, “my hotel isn’t too far from here so it won’t be too long.” you nod, standing up on your toes and kissing his cheek. he blushed softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him as you walk to his hotel room.

as you walk closer to where he was staying, you began to slow down next to him as your feet began to grow tired in the heels you were wearing. he looked at you concerned about you slowing down, “is everything okay?” you nodded, “yeah, it’s just that my feet were starting to hurt.”

he squatted down onto the ground near you, he looked up and asked, “can you lift your foot up really quick?” you nodded, lifting your foot up off the ground for him as he held it delicately. he unhooked the heels clasp around your ankle and gently took off the heel for you. you lifted your other foot off the ground for him and he did the same thing.

he held both of your heels for you as he got up off the ground, dusting the dirt off his jeans. he asked, “do your feet feel better?” you smiled softly and nodded, “they do. thank you.” he smiled back and leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “you’re welcome, baby.” you laugh softly, “baby? are you getting all soft on me, burrow?”

he rolled his eyes playfully, “only for you.” he interlocked his fingers with yours, kissing your hand softly and leading the way back to his hotel. as you both walked through the lobby and inside the elevator, he pressed the fourth floor button and turned you over to face him as the elevator doors closed. he leaned down once more, kissing your lips once again, cupping your face gently in his hands.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss grows more intense when the elevator opens, signaling that you made it on the fourth floor. he grabs your hand and hurriedly pulls you outside the elevator and leads you down the hallway to his room. as you reach the outside of his door, he pulls the keycard out of his pocket as you lean closer to him and teasingly kiss his neck.

he shudders as he puts the card into the slot, “fuck, don’t tease me.” you smiled against his neck, “or what?” the light on the door turned green and he immediately opened it, pulling you inside. he grabbed the “do not disturb” sign and set on the door outside the room, shutting it behind him and locking it.

you set your purse on the desk and he threw your heels to the floor near the nightstand, lightly grabbing your wrist to get you to look at him. he feverishly kisses you as if his life depended on it, his teeth clashing against your own. you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as his hands explored your body over your dress. he managed to say through kisses, “take this off.”

you nodded eagerly as he sits down on the corner of the bed, wanting to watch you undress for him. you slowly took off your dress, revealing your matching laced black lingerie set underneath. he took off his jacket and his necklaces as you undressed for him, throwing his jacket to the floor and setting his necklaces on the nightstand then turning over to face you again.

you decided to straddle his lap, pulling him into a needy kiss as his hands wander your body to the back of your bra. “can i take this off?” you smiled against his lips and nodded, “of course, baby.” his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as he looked at your breasts for the first time in years.

his hands caressed them softly causing you to let out a soft moan into his mouth. he looked down at them, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of your pierced nipples. “when did you get this done?” you blushed softly, “like two years ago.. do you like them?” he nodded, his fingers teasing the balled jewelry, making you shudder and whimper.

he takes your breast into his mouth, sucking on your nipple and teasing the jewelry with his tongue. you moaned softly, watching him lick and suck while you run your fingers through his hair. his free hand teases the other one as his mouth moves to it, giving them both the same love and recognition. you whimpered, grinding your hips softly onto his lap.

he detached his mouth from you as his hands held your hips, helping you grind against him and groping your ass. he captured your lips again in a messy kiss, his nose brushing against yours. “i missed you so much.” you whispered against his lips, “i missed you too, baby.” your fingers reach the hem of his t-shirt, him quickly obliging as he pulls it over his head and throwing it to the floor.

he quickly flips you both over, climbing over you and kissing down your neck to your chest. you shudder softly against his lips as he kisses down your stomach to reaching the hem of your panties. his fingers brushed over the damp cloth causing you to whimper softly and open your legs for better access for him. he asked softly, “can i take this off too, pretty girl?”

you nod eagerly, “please take them off.. i need to feel you.” he grabs both sides of your panties as you lift your hips up so he can easily take them off. he pulls them down your legs and reaches your ankles then throwing them to the side. his fingers brush over your wet folds as you mewl softly at the feeling of his fingers against you.

he bit his lip as he teasingly rubbed his fingers against you, “you’re so wet for me.. and i barely did anything. it’s kind of pathetic, baby.” you mewl at his words, not being able to take his teasing any longer. you begged, “please do something, joe. i need you so bad.” without hesitation, he opened your legs a little wider and buried his face between them. he kisses and teases your clit with his tongue causing you to let out a sigh and closing your eyes.

he tapped your inner thigh, “look at me, baby. i want you to watch me.” you opened your eyes and looked down at him as he suckled your clit into his mouth. you run his fingers through his hair and mewl loudly at the feeling of him slipping his tongue inside of you. he devoured you as if he hadn’t eaten in days, you moaned in satisfaction and contorting your face in pleasure as you watch him eat you out.

his tongue lapped against your wet cunt as you push his face closer into you, grinding against his tongue as if you’re riding him. he pulled your legs onto his shoulders as your thighs clench against his head, you whimper and grip his hair tightly causing him to moan as he kisses and laps up your wet arousal. the pit building in your stomach began to boil over until you’re writhing against his face. and arching your back.

he knew you were growing closer to your orgasm as your movements started moving sloppily against him. he asked, “you want to cum, baby?” he slipped his tongue inside you once more. you nodded, “yes, i’m so fucking close!” he urged, “beg for it. tell me how much you missed me.” you whimpered, “i missed you so much, joe. no one can make me feel as good as you.”

he smirked against you, “good girl. cum for me, baby. cum on my face.” you came undone at his words and the feeling of his tongue flicking against your clit. you moaned in ecstasy as your legs shook against his face as he continued you to guide you through your orgasm. you gasp and whine as the overwhelming sensation of his tongue curling inside you.

you whimpered, “okay, you can get off. please.” he moved his tongue out of you, his chin and mouth glistening with your juices. he pressed a few chaste kisses in your inner thighs before he finally moved out of between your legs. he leaned up closer to you, your legs wrap around his waist, his hard cock straining in his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh.

he kisses you feverishly, slipping his tongue in your mouth. tongues and teeth clash against each other as the neediness between the two of you grew more intense. he pulls away from you and lightly pecks your lips, “you taste better than i remembered.” you blush, “you remembered what i taste like?”

he nods, “of course i do. you haven’t left on my mind since i left that night.” you sat up, kissing him softly as your hand reaches down and teases through his jeans by caressing your hand against him. he groans softly, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hand on the outside of his jeans. “you can take it out if you want. i don’t think i’ll last long if you keep rubbing me like that.”

you giggle lightly, “you got that hard from eating me out?” he said, “i got hard the moment i saw you again if you want me to be honest.” you peck his lips softly, “you’re so fucking cute.” your hand moved to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping and unbuttoning them. he pulled his jeans down to his ankles, kicking them off to the side, revealing his black calvin klein boxers.

you helped pull his boxers down, revealing his girthy, rock hard cock slapping against his abdomen as you free him from his boxers. you stroke it softly, your thumb feeling the slit of his tip as he lets out a sigh. “fuck, i missed your hands on me.” you asked, “oh yeah?” he nodded, “if you keep doing that, this is going to be over pretty quickly.” you laughed softly and moved your hand off him.

he rubbed his cock over your folds, making you both groan and whimper in pleasure. “if it hurts, i’ll stop, okay?” you nod feverishly, bucking your hips to match his movements. he slipped the tip of his cock inside of you, letting you slowly adjust to his size and so he can feel how warm and tight you are. you both let out a breathy moan, he slipped more of him inside you causing you to wince and him to groan softly. “fuck, i missed you.”

his thrusts were teasingly slow as he let you adjust to his size again since it was so long since he’s been inside you. you whimpered, “fuck me, joe.. please”. he moved his hips, thrusting a little faster causing you to moan softly in his ear. his lips nipped and sucked on your collarbone as you buck your hips into his to match his thrusts. he asked teasingly, “do you like that, baby?”

you nodded eagerly, “fuck me harder… i need it so bad.” he moved your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted deeper inside you. your knees were against your chest as he fucked you harder, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and both of your moans filled the hotel room. both of you were lost in each other until the sound of his phone rang from the pocket of his jeans.

he groaned annoyingly at the dreaded sound ruining the mood as he moved out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact. he quickly grabbed his jeans off the floor and took his phone out of his back pocket, swiping to answer it and holding it against his ear. “yeah?” he smiled softly down at you as his hands groped at your breast, rubbing his thumb over your pierced nipple.

he sighed, “no, dude, i left the party over an hour ago. what happened?” you mouthed, “do you want to stop?” he shrugged, listening to whatever ja’marr is asking him about. “no, i caught up with an old friend and we’re back at my hotel.” you smiled softly as you knew you were the old friend he was referring to. he laughed softly, “no, i’ll tell you about it later..” you grew more comfortable onto the bed as he finished up his phone conversation. “okay i’ll text you later.. get back safe.”

he ended the call and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, leaning down and kissing you hungrily. he asked softly, “do you want to keep going?” you nodded, “yes please.” he laughed softly, “aww, look at you using your manners.” he kissed the crook of your neck then pecked your lips, “such a sweet girl.” you asked shyly, “can i ride you?”

he nodded eagerly, lying down on the bed next to you. you crawled on top of him, kissing his neck teasingly. he lets out a soft sigh, running his fingers through your hair as you find the sensitive part of his skin, sucking and nipping the same way he did on the bench prior. his breath hitches, “fuck, don’t tease, baby.”

you giggled softly, detaching your lips from his neck before giving the forming bruise a small kiss, hearing a wince from him. you got up onto the bed, hovering over his cock while you line him up with your entrance. you sink down onto his length, hearing shudders and gasps from the both of you.

you start to roll your hips, his hands going straight to your hips helping guide your movements against his body. you whimper and moan as you close your eyes and throw your head back in pleasure. his hand reaching up and groping your tit as you ride him to oblivion. you had plenty of hookups after you and joe broke up but no one made you feel so full and satisfied you the way he did.

he laid up further, pulling you closer to him as he kisses you passionately. his hands gripped against your hips, probably leaving tiny bruises for you to wake up to the next morning. sweat began forming and dripping down from both of your foreheads as your legs started getting weaker. his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as your movements began to slow.

the heat in your stomach was rising as you continued to move against him. his hands wandered and caressed your body on top of him. he cupped your face softly and lowly whispered, “open your mouth, baby.” you obeyed, sticking your tongue out for him as he spit in your mouth. you whimpered softly as you swallowed his spit causing him to groan at the sight of you. “you’re such a good girl.”

his words push you closer to the edge of your climax as you push through the soreness in your legs. your walls began to tighten around him causing him to let out a soft moan. you moaned, “i’m so close.” he grunted, “fuck, i am too. cum for me, baby. i want to feel you around me.” you loudly gasped, burying your face in his sweaty shoulder, biting down to muffle your screams. the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin and your walls clenching his length made groan and shudder as he fills you up with his cum.

you pull him into a slow, needy kiss as you both were steadily coming down from what just occurred. you get off of his lap, legs shaking from either your orgasm or how long you were using them for. you get up from bed and attempt to gather your clothes to get dressed when joe asks, “what are you doing?” you eyed him with confusion, “getting ready to leave?” he shook his head, “come lay down with me.”

you found yourself crawling back into bed with him before thinking it over, you were used to leaving after a hook up so him asking you to spend the night was something that you hadn’t heard in a long time. you cuddled into his chest as he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, your leg draping against his hips. what you didn’t know was that joe rarely dated after you two broke up. he went on a few dates but always found himself thinking of you to fully pursue anything.

you felt yourself beginning to doze off but was fighting to stay awake so you can be in the moment with him longer. he whispered in your ear, “you can go to sleep.. i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” you nodded sleepily as you finally shut your eyes, softly snoring on his chest. he gently moved your hair out of your face and kissed the top of your head as he watched you peacefully sleep. he never thought you’d actually end up in his arms again..

but now that you’re here with him, he finally felt he was whole again. his only regret was that it took him so long to realize that he loved you after you two broke up and you moved away.. he cooed softly in your ear as you slept, “i love you.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead before drifting off to sleep, being happy that you were back in his arms again.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #cincinnati bengals #keep reading #nfl imagine #izzy writes 💕

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leviathans-watching · 1 year

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Helloooooo!!!

I really loved and enjoyed the latest fic about Solomon and being his rival🥺

I'm a sucker for a good "enemis/rivals to lovers" damn

Could you perhaps write a part 2 for it? (If not, then ignore this ask :)🙏)

Maybe Solomon finding the witches that hurt mc and dealing with them and then mc finds out what he did for them? Or maybe Solomon spending more time with mc with the excuse of "protecting them bc obviously they can't" but in truth he just wants to be close to them?

Whatever comes in mind! I love your writing and your ideas 😚🥰

Have a great day/night and a fantastic Christmas!!!! 💜💜💜🥰🥰🥰⛄

rivals au w/ solomon pt 2

includes: solomon x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .4k | rated t | m.list | pt 1 | pt 3

a/n: he's such a dork, i hope you enjoy lmao. thanks for the kind words and for requesting!! my inbox is closed for reqs atp but you can still leave feedback and chat with me!!

*holding hands out pitifully* reblogs? p-please? OwO

“so, mc,” solomon hums, plopping down next to you like it’s an everyday thing, “which witches were the ones you had trouble with last time?”

“what are you doing here, solomon?” you ask, fixing him with an unimpressed look. “you’re in my seatmate’s spot.”

“not anymore.” he flashes you with a charming grin. “we traded.”

“you…traded.”

“yep!” giving you a smirk, he scans the room. “man, i like this seat, too. the only downside is the person i’m stuck beside.”

“no one’s forcing you to sit here,” you tell him flatly. “so go on, like a good little sorcerer, and get back in your normal seat.”

“aw, do you truly hate me that much?”

“yes.” you don’t even spare him a glance, organizing your papers.

solomon doesn’t bother to hide his chuckle, leaning back in his seat languorously. he can’t really pin down exactly why he’d switched seats with the poor shmuck who’d had to sit with you before, and he doesn’t really try. by the time he’d stopped to consider what he was doing, he’d already sealed the deal with your old table partner. it’s not his fault, really!

ever since you’d showed up at his house on that rainy day, he’s been feeling weird whenever he thought about you. you didn't seem to be affected, which only pissed him off more. damn, you got under his skin in a way nobody else could.

“hey, mc,” he says, reaching over to grab one of your books, “you actually take notes on this crap? it comes naturally for me.”

you snatch the book out of his hands, placing it far out of his reach. the fact that he consistently scored higher than you on exams and tests was a sore spot for you and a point of pride for him, especially since it was always only by one or two points.

“the brothers like to use my notes,” you explain coolly.

“you actually help them?”

“sometimes,” you shrug. “i mean, it’s not like i do it for nothing. it’s all transactional.”

he whistles. “how heartless of you.”

you scoff. “says you.”

as your banter falls into its familiar pattern, he feels a bit better. so what if his emotions were all tangled up when he thought about you? you were still the same old annoying, stuck up, know-it-all mc that you’d always been. so what if his heart started to beat in his chest at the thought fo you, or if he couldn’t look away from your concentrated face when you took your stupid notes.

everything is normal. everything is fine.

then you look over at him, making a what do you want? face, the light falling over your eyes in a way he’s never seen, and he has to look away first, heat exploding across his face.

everything is not fine!

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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sunarintoes · 3 years

Text

Inarizaki Boyfriend Headcanons

Includes: Miya Osamu, Kita Shinsuke, Suna Rintarou (Atsumu’s can be found here)

✗ My favourite Miya <3

✗ His favourite date to take you on is when the Main Street is full of food carts and independent sellers/farmers, the two of you walk around and try all the sweets and what not. After the two of you stuffed yourselves silly you make your way to the movie theatre and once that’s done you sit down at a park bench and just vibe with each other. And then you go get more food :D

✗ So he loves cooking - its his passion, he always asks for you to taste test all his different onigiri. Gives the biggest smile when you say you like it!!

✗ As I said before in another post, he has a horse. Like Atsumu, he will ride the horse to your house. Once he called you to meet outside the school on a Saturday and he told you to wear ‘forest spirit clothing.’ You were very confused. You showed up in a flowing dress/flowing shirt and then he came around the corner, on his white horse, wearing a tuxedo. He looked like a prince so you weren't complaining. ‘Hey sugar lets ride off into the sunset together’ was how he greeted you.

✗ He’s kinda indifferent about pda, he’s only gonna do it if it feels right at the moment you know? When the two of you are just standing at, say, a bus stop he will go behind and hug you. He likes being close to you. So when y'all at school he will greet you with a forehead kiss in the morning before he heads off to his classes. I don't think he would make out with you in public, he prefers to keep that to himself. If you want kisses in public he’ll gladly give you short but sweet kisses on your lips, cheeks or forehead (and sometimes your hand).

✗ He gets jealous but he hides it well. He doesn't want to come off as controlling or insecure so the majority of the time he will just keep it to himself and pout a little. When this happens please go up to him and massage/rub his shoulders while placing soft kisses on his head - it will make him calm down and relieve tension so quickly. On the occasion that he does have a jealous outburst, his face will be angry as he takes you away from whoever was hitting you up. When you're far away enough he will have an annoyed expression and will sit on the ground (literally wherever you guys are; he will just plop down in an angry tantrum). When this happens just pull him into your lap (yes, even if you are considerably smaller than him) and tell him ‘it's okay’ and that you ‘only love him.’ He’ll calm down and it'll be pretty chill afterwards (but will glare at the person if he ever sees them again.)

✗ Yes my favourite farmer boy!!

✗ Kita - despite his somewhat cold and blunt demeanor, loves affection. In particular he loves laying down on a couch or a bed and holding you while facing each other. He likes talking to you in that position and he will open up about things on his mind.

✗ Ok so Kita is a ‘Bob the Builder’ sorta boyfie, he has building skills for some reason but you’re not complaining. If you want/need something made you can bet that he will volunteer to have a go at it. He may not be the best with the actual painting of whatever but the thing itself will be built well.

✗ I don’t think he’s one for pda, it just doesn't float his boat. The occasional hand holding and a kiss on the cheek is fine but he doesn’t really feel the need to show his affection in public - especially because he seems to be quite a private person.

✗ Dates with Kita are simple and nice, mostly consist of picnics and walks along the beach/local area/park. Movie dates are a thing as well - for Kita he just loves being around you and spending time with you! Oh and his granny loves you :P if she didn't then he wouldn't date you. He's a granny’s boy.

✗ Kita does not get jealous. Nu uh, never. But he does get insecure. Majority of the time he is chill and trusts you with his whole heart but on rare occasions - perhaps when you spontaneously run into a childhood friend and seem to glow with happiness he might feel a pang in his heart. I don't think he would feel angry or upset with you, but sad with himself and he may feel like he doesn't know how to make you glow that bright and all that. It will be really hard to tell when he feels this way. He’s really good at hiding it :( but Kita is a man who strongly believes in communication ← literally more than most characters lmfao, and he will sit you down and tell you what’s on his mind. He’ll expect you to do the same if you were in his position; maybe that's why you two are such a strong couple. When he tells you please listen quietly and wait until he’s finished speaking, this lets him know you care about what he is saying. After he’s done give him a warm hug and rub his back or run a hand through his soft hair, please remind him that you love him and that he makes you glow with happiness every day <3

✗ bbg 😚

✗ Or maybe i should say bbb

✗ Mans is so fine i live for this lanky fucker <3

✗ Ok so we all know sun-sun is lazyyyy and homie definitely plays video games. He went through a fortnite phase with Atsumu boy are you glad you barely knew him during that time cause he was as you would expect 😳🤢 anywhoooo he’s more of a COD boy atm, mmm first person shooter games are his fav. He definitely gets you into them → if you're not that into them he won't push it but he thinks Minecraft dates and teaching you how to play are cute. Oh! And if you are… hohohoho boy does he love it. Loves playing with you - same team or not, yall are deadly together, especially if you also play first person shooters. Oh and animal crossing dates are a must!

✗ Most of the time your dates consist of someone’s house and vibing on their bed or a couch watching movies, playing video games and cuddling. 😩uh mans is so fine. He's a sexy gamer boy; what else could you want?

✗ Ohohoho he does get jealous, homie will get snarky with the perp and will not be afraid to wrap an arm around your waist to publicly display that he is with you and you are with him. The perp probs gets scared of this tall, snarky boy and runs off. Will probably sulk the whole day and try to act indifferent/ignore his emotions (cause he’s low key emotionally constipated) so plz bb im begging you, crawl into his lap (yes, even if you’re taller than him) and snuggle into his chest. Then he will be happy :D

✗ Oh and this (doesn't really) bring us to our next point: pda! Mmmmmm he’s like osamu in the sense that he does and does not care - like it's up to you. He’s probably not the biggest on it and wont initiate much asides from having an arm around you, holding you hand (and occasionally your butt-)

✗ Suna, as mentioned earlier, is somewhat emotionally constipated ← though definitely not as much as other characters *cough* ushiwaka *cough* and will take a while to warm up to affection. However once you get there he will absolutely adore holding you and cuddling with you - in fact he claims he “cant sleep without you” because he’s “been trained to love you too much.” lol what a dork

#suna rintarou #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #Haikyu!!#haikyuu #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #kita x reader #suna fluff #suna headcanons #kita headcanons #kita shinsuke x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu fluff #miya fluff #miya osamu fluff #osamu miya x reader

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mego42 · 3 years

Text

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them.

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers

another grief study!

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!!

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!!

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio?

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is?

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

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monst · 4 years

Text

Autograph gone wrong…

All characters 18+

Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Warnings: Sexy time actions, Exhibitionism, Dubcon, Your friend uses his quirk on you and well it didn’t get the right reaction…

Also this is a Thirst post and by no means anything good/super descriptive also it was written on my phone at work and I swear if I get in trouble Jo imma take a flight to England 😤😤😤 but yeah Forehead was butthurt that I cockblocked her so ig 🙄 It totally wasn’t my fault you can’t blame the time for saying Hey Monst Lunch is over! Where I left off is marked *** Also, It’s based off this:

Your lucky I love you @lady-bakuhoe 😤😤😤

Kirishima was headed home on the last train out when you just happened to spot him. He had been your favorite pro hero since his debut and simply put you were obsessed with him.

"Hey isn't that Red Riot?" You quickly looked away to focus on your friend. "Oh shit it is (Name) aren't you like his biggest fan?!! You should go ask for an autograph!"

Naturally you refused. You didn't want to be a bother on his limited time off. But your friend was relentless and threatened to use his quirk on you. Their quirk was wild and when activated a single touch was enough to transfer it and you were forced to speak and behave in all honesty.

"The next stop is my stop and you know that if you don't do it now I'll touch you.".....

Too bad you took too long to psych yourself into asking. Your friend stepped out of the train with a grin; content in leaving you in the wagon alone with the hero.

Your friend was too innocent! They didn't know the thoughts you had, the dirty things you wished to do to the hero! And your lip was going to be bruised by how hard you were biting it. You were mortified! If you spoke, lord knows what you'd say to him!?!?!

Your eyes raked over his form. Every inch of him was undeniably attractive. From his luscious red locks to his thick muscular body. You set your jaw when you caught his leg bouncing up and down. Up and down. The muscles on his thighs and calf flexing with each tap. You breathed in deeply through your mouth. And your lips parted.

"Damn your so fucking hot." You gasped.

"P-pardon?" He flushed.

"You look cute when you blush." 'Fuck (Name) shut up!' You yelled internally.

His face grew a darker shade of red and your feet drew you closer to him.

"Your my favorite hero you know that." You beamed your thighs clenching as you took in how massive he was. 'He's right in front of me!'

"Thank you." He smiled bashfully, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I've always wondered how your quirk worked.... Can I ask you something?" You flushed.

"S-sure." He replied, politely.

"Does every part of you get hard when you activate your quirk?"

Kirishima sputtered eyes wide and unbelievably. His lips parted various times to form words but they were lost in his throat when you got closer. And the bouncing of his leg increased.

"So when you're fighting villains" you paused to lick your lips "are you hard?"

By now you were leaning over him. His large eyes looked adorably innocent looking up at you. And when your hand touched his thigh you felt him jump.

"Relax~" The pads of your fingers ran up the thick muscles and you moaned. "Your so thick"

Kirishima gulped harshly. "You'll tell me if I'm going to far right?" You asked innocently. He only nodded dumbly cheeks lit aflame as you had whispered it into his too hot ear.

If possible his eyes grew wider when you lowered yourself onto his meaty leg. "Can you make this hard for me baby? I wanna see my hero in action." You pouted moving your hips against his thigh.*** Kirishima didn’t know what to do! His hands were glued to his sides he didn't know whether to put them on you or not. He was so confused. You were standing by your friend meek and mild not so long ago!?!? What happened!?!?

He hadn’t ever had someone come onto him like this. He felt so powerless despite being a hero. Was he supposed to stop you? Fuck he didn't want to stop you. Not when he could feel the heat of your cunt pressing against his thigh. His jaw went slack when he heard you moan. And without thinking he hardened his leg in encouragement.

"Oh fuck yeah." You hummed, feeling your cunt throb every time your clit caught onto a particular ridge on his hardened leg. When you let out a loud whimper Kirishima's eyes widened and he looked around in panic.

"Mmm There's no one here" you purred dropping your hand down into your panties. He swallowed thickly; red eyes watching as you brought up your slick covered fingers. "Seeing you in action does this to me Red Riot~"

The red head gasped his cock pulsing at the sound of his hero name being said in such lewd fashion. And when your stuck them in your mouth and allowed him to hear the wet slurping sounds he felt hot. Too hot, It was getting extremely hot. And unconsciously he began to bounce his leg up and down to distract himself. He didn't want to touch you just in case this was a gag.

"Hnngghh" the sound was sinful and it made him throb anxiously. "P-please" he whined. He didn't even know what he was pleading for. For you to stop? For you to keep going? It was all lost on him. All he could think of was how with every roll of your hips his thigh grew damper and his cock pulsed with need.

To make matters worse you had slid down his leg to hump his calf. Your soft breast pressed against his knee; while your nails dug into his leg. You looked so dirty. So primitive humping his leg with need. Why the fuck was he turned on? Why could he say anything to-

"Hah~" Kirishima hissed. His head went back when you had palmed his clothes length abruptly. You whistled lowly at the hot girth in your grasp.

"You're bigger than I imagined." You panted while squeezing down on his hardened length. "As I-I thought ah~ you do get turned on when you use your quirk"

He wanted to deny your claims it wasn't true he didn't get off to fighting villans and using his quirk but when he parted his lips:

"N-onngggg f-fuck." He gasped.

"Who would have guessed that you were secret pervert." You mewled; a grin stretching your lips when you felt him thrust up into your palm.

"Yeah t-thats it get off on my hand you slutty hero." The sound he made had you grinding down on his leg harder.

"P-please I-I I'm nngh" he panted; his eyes watering at your degrading words. He didn't even know he was into that! But your words had him ready to burst. He'd never been this close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"Are you g-gonna cum? Do it Red Riot cum for me cum for your b-biggest fan" you keened. Kirishima's eyes rolled back when your moans grew louder and more consistent.

"Ah! Yes! Fuck I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum right on your leg nngh you want that right? You want me to cum on your leg like a horny bitch." You ranted incoherently.

"Yes!" Kirishima groaned; his hand grabbing yours to press it harder against his cock. His thrusts against your palm grew choppy and short until he stilled; a choked moan slipping past his parted lips.

The sight above you sent you tumbling into your own orgasm and you clenched his leg tightly as you cried out his hero name. The both of you stood there trying to catch your breath. All was silent except for the sound of the train running along the tracks.

It was then that you finally came to. Your eyes widening in horror. 'I did not!' You shrieked internally. You dared a look up and your face grew hot at the flustered expression on the pro heroes face. Your jaw dropped, you had no words. Jeez you were beyond embarrassed! Before either of you could speak your saving grace was heard.

The train stopped and announced the stop before yours and you wasted no time in booking it out of there with a couple of hasty apologies. Kirishima stood to go up after you his arm outstretched. But when the cold air hit his crotch he flushed and covered the damp sticky spot. By the time he looked up again you were gone and the doors had closed.

When he got off at the next stop he realized that your wallet had fallen out of your pocket. He opened it to check for an ID

(Name) (LastName) Quirk: Liquid sin, also known as Seductive voice…

"That explains a lot" he mused. Kirishima had many questions and he was sure to visit you to get them answered.

"That's funny we live on the same block…."

#Thirsty bitch juice #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha smut #Jo your such a petty brat 😂😂😂💕

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leo-interactive-fiction · 4 years

Note

hey! hey! any neat fluff you want to share but couldnt because nobody asked?

Interesting fluff? Hmm, let's see...

E: they have an extremely high metabolism! Paired with their athletics, this is what has kept their frame relatively slight. They also keep a fairly strict and healthy diet, though they sometimes splurge when they become frustrated by something. Pre-power they could not lift very much, as they mostly focused on agility and endurance. They did a lot of community volunteer work in Hearth, to the point of being recognized by the town's aristocratic family. Their morning routine consists of basic stretches and greeting important inanimate objects along their path.

R: they are the first child of the Valleford family, with a sister 2 years younger. Their family is heavily ingrained in the economic runnings of Triaina, and heads of the family have utilized that position to run black market criminal syndicates for generations, including R's father. R is ostracized from the major runnings of the family due to differences of opinions and past exchanges with their father. R's sister is now listed as next in line to become head of the family. R knows some geologic and rock polishing from their earlier jewel crafting days.

L: in Hospur, many consider a higher intelligence correlated with a darker hue of blue hair. Likewise, L scored within the 99th percentile in the national intelligence assessment, and is subsequently able to become one of the country's chairmen, an honor exclusive to this percentile. L is particular about what they eat since theyve come to Triaina, because of the height difference between Hospians and Teiainians. Glasses are a luxury unaffordable by most, especially in Triaina. This is one sign of their more aristocratic heritage. The silver hairpin they wear in the artwork is a hospian courting tradition, where they will wear it to signify they're pursuing a relationship. A gold hairpin is used to signify the relationship has been solidified, typically by marriage but it can also be used as a promise of marriage as well.

V: they have never seen carpet before coming to the academy. They prefer to sleep on the floor in a makeshift tent in their room than on the bed, because the elevated position is 'too open'. They cant read, write, or recognize numbers, but can speak, count, and understand words well. They cant whistle or snap their fingers. They can handle cold temperatures well, but struggle in hot environments. They know basic wilderness survival.

P: they wear a locket necklace they were gifted from their mother. They learned how to cook from their mother as well. Their body is heavily scarred from training. Despite their more brawling nature, they are most effective at using a spear, as that is what they trained in at a young age, but they refuse to use it now. P cant swim.

M: they are also proficient in using a spear, and much to Ps disdain they are better in it despite their lack of a training regimen. M is the favored child between the two, due to their natural talent compared to P. M also knows how to sing, a skill taught by their mother.

Ra: they never received proper schooling in Triaina, and learned much of what they know secondhand through books and tutorials. They were considered innately evil at birth due to a series of progressively worsening actions surrounding them until they were outcast from the family at the age of 8. Many of their subsequent foster homes that took them in ended up involved in mysterious disappearances until Ra themselves did too.

S: they're the eldest of 7, with 2 sisters and 4 brothers. The country of Orden is lawless for the most part, and the transition to Triaina isnt a fair one for them. They do well in heat, but dont fare well in colder climates. Their sense of personal boundaries are incredibly lacking. What many consider their overly friendly nature is simply normal to their community in Orden, which happens to be more physically affirming. Orden is separated into two distinct communities: the Orders, comprised of highly structured, well organized villages ran by corporations, and Dens, which are lawless outlander communities built with scrap discarded by the Orders. S is from the Scorpion's Den, whereas Lewis is part of the family that runs the Order next S's home. This puts them at distinct odds, since the two factions are constantly in conflict.

F: they dont like to eat plants, though they will if they must. They are proficient in using a bow, and know how to craft several large game traps. They have a deep respect for the natural world, and do their best not to disturb it. They are the youngest of three, with their eldest brother being the most viable for the throne, however he chose to marry within the Frenzian community and subsequently gave up his claim for the throne. Now F and the middle brother are at odds for it. Their mother has been sickly for several years, with a gradually degrading condition, leading to further urgency in the claim for the throne. F's father is R's uncle (R's father's brother). F occasional has one sided conversations with animals and flowers they encounter.

I hope that interests you haha. Enjoy!

#triaina academy #romance options

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

Hinata Shoyo x Reader: Good Unexpected

Hello there! This is the first time I’ve ever posted any of my writing, so I hope you enjoy reading! I had a really fun time writing about my favorite ray of sunshine and may or may not have gotten carried away with the word count whoops :P Constructive feedback or just comments in general are welcome~

Word count: 6600

Warning(s): None

Another close win for Karasuno’s male volleyball team had a crowd on their feet and a roar echoing throughout the building. There were five volleyball courts in the structure, but none had a more rambunctious crowd in that moment than the once Flightless Crows. The match wasn’t an all too significant one, but it claimed the boys another opportunity to play in this charity tournament, and that’s all they needed to keep their drive going. In the chaos of cheering students, players on break, family members, and those who had simply been enraptured by the match, a duo of young females ushered out muffled apologies of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ more times than they could count as they edged their way through. A short blonde stuck closely beside her fellow classmate in the sea of people, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing a gap to a less crowded section of the stadium.

“Yachi, could you text Kiyoko and tell her we’re on our way? Takinoue and Shimada said they’d take care of the banner since the next match is tomorrow,” you instructed.

“Sure thing,” Yachi replied with a small nod, fishing her phone from her back pocket.

You both continued your move down a set of stairs, searching for the main entrance to court three, on which Karasuno had just played.

“Hey, I think I see Tsukishima by the water fountain over there! The rest of the boys must be close by.” Yachi gestured to the slim middle blocker, donning the unmistakable Karasuno High VBC sweatshirt each player was given at the beginning of the season.

“Yeah, that’s him for sure! Good eye, Yachi!” you acknowledged.

Jogging over to the towering blonde, you flashed him a warm smile in greeting. Tsukishima replied with a brief nod, his usual hello.

“Hey, Tsukki! Where’s the rest of the boys?” you inquired, now used to Tsukishima’s little expressed enthusiasm, even after a victory.

“Daichi, Sugawara and Ennoshita are checking out the standings for who we’ll face off against tomorrow, Yamaguchi is in the bathroom, and the dumbasses who share one brain cell went to check if the snack bar was open. I have no clue where the rest of them ended up,” Tsukishima listed, scrolling through his phone.

Yachi giggled at his last description of what you could only assume to be Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, and likely Kageyama. Those boys had a way of getting into the stupidest situations, and their immense distaste for anything school related made their title quite fitting, although it was safe to say that you had a soft spot for the knuckleheads - especially one in particular.

“Speak of the devil,” Tsukishima stated as he looked up from his device. Sure enough, two of said boys had returned from their little food run with bags of snacks in hand. Tanaka had already ripped open a package of beef jerky, two of the sticks stuffed in his mouth as he spoke incoherent words to his fellow second year teammate, Nishinoya.

“Hey boys!” you waved enthusiastically. “Nice win today!”

Upon seeing you, Nishinoya and Tanaka gasped simultaneously, the remaining jerky in the latter’s mouth falling onto the floor. You could see a grossed out Tsukishima cringe in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t really mind the duo’s antics at this point.

As everyone knows, Kiyoko was the team manager, an absolute goddess to all, and the master of avoiding the flirty nature of any guy she came across. It was evident that she had a huge effect on the rambunctious second years, two of them in particular melting any time they were given the slightest bit of attention (affectionate or otherwise) - and she could even pull a reaction out of the calmest of boys, including the ever respectful and reserved Karasuno captain from time to time.

However, despite a deep infatuation for the beautiful third year female, the team had been introduced to a new kind of character in the past year that had thrown Nishinoya and Tanaka into a frenzy: a competitive yet kindhearted first year student who just so happened to be a volleyball player herself: you.

You had arrived in the boy’s gymnasium one afternoon, on the day of the week that the Karasuno girl’s team had practice off. You were hoping to find some tasks or drills to help out with, just to keep yourself active during your free time after school. Since Coach Ukai always appreciated an extra set of hands, especially some that held experience, you began appearing as a regular during Wednesday practices, and the team took a quick liking to you.

Despite your focus and intensity whenever you were on the court, you were almost always there with an encouraging word or bright smile if the Karasuno boys ever needed, and your consistent sweetness caused many players to view you in a similar manner as Kiyoko. While the more reserved Kiyoko Shimizu was more or less dismissive of the constant attention she would get from boys, you were always happy to jump in and boost the team with your enthusiastic words and actions.

Nishinoya briefly brought up that he likes when girls compliment his hair? You make a little mention of how good it looks at the end of practice that day. Tanaka isn’t feeling particularly happy with his spikes? You’re sure to compliment him extra when he gets a shot off that he likes. Yamaguchi gets frustrated with his jump floaters? You offer up a few words of encouragement to keep him going. Even after practice is over and it’s just a normal day that you can spend time with the team, you happily accepted the compliments and the affection you received from the boys - specifically Nishinoya and Tanaka. Of course, you never lead them on or anything of the sort; you’re all just very close friends.

It was an interesting dynamic to say the least, but the differing personalities of you and the team manager Shimizu had two second year boys going wild to get your attention.

But, the two troublemakers had discovered who you had your sights set on pretty quickly.

“N/n! I didn’t realize you came to watch today!” Nishinoya grinned, quickly making his way over and wrapping his arms around your midsection. You laughed and placed a hand on the libero’s head, patting his hair gently.

“Hi, Nishi,” you smiled. “Of course I came to see you all. I couldn’t miss watching my favorite libero in action, now could I?”

“How did you think we did? Wasn’t that an awesome last set?” Tanaka joined in the conversation, giving you a side hug in greeting.

“Yeah, it was pretty exciting to watch!” you agreed. “I’m all for the heart pounding matches, so long as you boys keep winning at the end of them.”

“You know we will!” Nishinoya smiled up at you.

“I do know that,” you affirmed before looking around the space. “Tsukishima mentioned something about you and some of the other boys getting snacks, but right now it’s just you two. Where’s the rest of your little group of mischief-makers at?”

“Kageyama stopped by a vending machine to buy some milk. He said it was cheaper than the prices at the snack bar.” Tanaka clarified.

“Hinata decided to stick with him to talk about the team we’re likely playing tomorrow, but they shouldn’t be far behind us.” Nishinoya concluded, a small grin playing at his lips. “Speaking of which, didn’t Hinata do pretty great, N/n? You should tell him how good he looked doing those quick attacks out on the floor today.”

You stuck your tongue out at the boy who still had his arms secured around you.

“Very funny, Nishi.” you pouted. “At this point you’re not even trying to be discreet.”

Nishinoya was the first player on the team to pick up on your attraction to Karasuno’s prized decoy. You had nearly walked into the wall of the school gymnasium while shagging volleyballs during a hitting drill, watching intently as Hinata did his approach before jumping and slamming the ball onto the other side of the court with ease. It would have been incredibly embarrassing if anyone else had witnessed your distracted movements, but fortunately Nishinoya was the only one to see, and had prevented you from smacking straight into the side of the building.

Initially, the libero thought the mishap was merely because you didn’t want to get nailed by Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attacks, but then he watched you nearly choke on your water when Hinata tossed his practice shirt off the same night, leaving the you to gape in silent astonishment as the middle blocker searched for a less sweaty replacement. Since Nishinoya was already quite close to you at the time, he was quick to corner you about the instance and declared himself an unofficial wing-man when you admitted you had feelings for the ginger.

He may or may not have let the secret slip to Tanaka one night when the three of you were walking home - and then profusely apologized to the point where tears visibly brimmed in his eyes - but Tanaka promised that he wouldn’t say anything to Hinata. Besides, even if he did make a not-so-subtle mention about you to the aspiring ace, you doubted that the dense boy would even understand Tanaka’s implications.

Little did you know, you were just as oblivious as Hinata when it came to people crushing on you. And the two second years beside you knew much more than you did.

“Awe, you look so cute when you get all pouty,” Nishinoya chuckled, reaching up to tap you on the nose.

“Oh, hush. Don’t make me bring up the time when you went completely rigid after Kiyoko-senpai gave you a high five at the scrimmage against Nekoma last month,” you countered.

“Don’t you mean the greatest moment of my entire life?”

“Wow, I’m hurt that she gets a higher placement than me in that regard.”

Despite being quite a bit shorter than you, Nishinoya easily hoisted you a few inches in the air and spun around, eliciting a surprised yelp on your part.

“Nishi, put me down!” you squealed, albeit laughing while doing so.

“You know how much I love you. Kiyoko might be my queen, but you’re definitely an angel sent to grace us with your presence!” he declared playfully.

The libero gently placed his friend back on the floor, a lopsided grin on his face as she ruffled his hair fondly.

“I know, and I love you too, little Guardian Deity.” you conceded. “Now, show me what kind of snacks you bought. I forgot to grab money before I left the house, so I could use some food.”

“You got it!” Tanaka opened up his backpack filled with goodies and offered it out to you. “Take your pick. We stocked up on a lot of food to munch on for the team meeting later today.”

“Speaking of which, you should come and sit in on that! I’m sure the rest of the guys would like to see you,” Nishinoya added.

“Actually I was already planning on going,” you mentioned while acquiring a bag of pretzels from Tanaka’s stash. “I texted Kiyoko that I was going to be here today, and she said that if you boys got another win that I should come to the meeting.”

“Sweet!” Tanaka exclaimed. “Since it’s not all that late, some of us were thinking about having a small practice in the gym after. If you had the time, it would be fun to have you stick around and maybe play if you wanted.”

“That sounds like fun!” you smiled, “just make sure you all don’t tire yourselves out completely before tomorrow’s game.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically, “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“-I’m just saying that you have a serious obsession with milk, Kageyama. It’s almost unhealthy.”

“Milk is a good source of calcium, you dumbass. So what if I drink a lot of it?”

“If you had the chance to marry a carton of milk, you absolutely would.”

“Would you shut up already?”

Two voices bickered back and forth as they approached the area near your little group. To anyone even barely associated with Karasuno’s volleyball team, these two arguing idiots would be easy to recognize from a mile away, and sure enough, a head of fluffy orange hair rounded the corner, quarreling with his dark haired teammate.

“Are they seriously having an argument about Kageyama and his milk?” Tanaka questioned.

“I’m honestly not even surprised at this point,” you sighed.

“Hey, morons!” Tanaka yelled at the two boys, who snapped their heads in the direction of their senpai’s distinct voice. “Quit fighting with each other and get the hell over here!”

You could feel your stomach flip involuntarily. Despite seeing the aspiring Karasuno ace many times during Wednesday practices and around school, it was always a sight to behold whenever he was suited up in the official team uniform. Hinata always got into these moments of intense focus during matches, which you deeply admired, and you affiliated such occasions with the jersey he always donned during each game. The look quickly became one of your favorites, but that piece of information was never shared with the boys. Only Kiyoko and Yachi knew about that secret preference, which they had promised to never bring up near any of the Karasuno team.

You were thrown out of your stupor when Nishinoya nudged you knowingly, a single eyebrow raised in a playful challenge. You only scoffed and shook your head, giving the libero a little nudge in return.

“Such a schemer, Nishi.” you murmured.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat.” he muttered in response. “Go compliment him about the game or something, you do it all the time with me and Tanaka.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Excuses, excuses~”

You huffed in exasperation, sparing another look at the little ray of sunshine with which you were so enamored. At this distance, the boy was close enough to recognize you, and you felt a gentle smile grow on your face when warm brown eyes met your own. You offered him a small wave in greeting, as you both were still a ways away from each other.

Hinata was quick to close that distance upon seeing you from across the hallway, making a beeline for the familiar girl that he had grown to love seeing walk through the gymnasium doors every week. He was glad to see you whenever he got the chance; you were always there to help him and Kageyama practice a few more quick attacks after practice concluded, always ready to try a few serves of your own when the boys wanted to get in some extra receives, always happy to help the young decoy with his studies when a particularly difficult exam was near. Not to mention, he found you to be the prettiest person out of his entire class of first years, so that was a plus.

The whole team may or may not know about Hinata’s very obvious affections, despite the boy not telling a single soul about the way his heart goes bwah!! whenever he thinks about you. Tanaka and Nishinoya found the entire ordeal utterly agonizing, being the only two boys on the team knowledgeable of your own feelings, and being sworn to secrecy about that fact. The Karasuno manager and the manager-in-training also knew the irony of the situation, but they didn’t dare meddle in your love life.

If your friends were all being honest with themselves, as torturous as it was to watch you two timid first years dance around each other’s feelings all the time, it was also incredibly adorable to watch your interactions. The usually loud and energetic middle blocker would lose all sense of function every time you would praise his game play, to the point where Kageyama had to kick his teammate from behind to get him to focus again. Hinata swore he nearly ascended when you had launched into his arms after beating Shiratorizawa in the Spring High Finals.

Yet, despite these moments of mutually lingering gazes and light blushes that often dusted both of your faces, the ginger rationalized that you acted this way towards every player on the team, and brushed such encounters with you off as nothing but platonic. He didn’t mind simply being friends, if that's all he could be. He was content so long as he got to be near you.

“Hey, Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming to watch the game today,” Hinata addressed you with a smile that put a blazing summer sun to shame.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! The student council meeting ended up being shorter than expected, so I called Kiyoko and let her know that I was on my way,” you explained. You then turned to Kageyama, who had eventually made his way over to the small group. “Nice game today, Kags. That one set you sent to Asahi in the second match from behind the attack line was insane.”

Karasuno’s starting setter nodded in acknowledgement of the commendation. “Thank you.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya, now standing next to their two teammates, aggressively attempted to gesture to Hinata with their eyes; a silent urge to get you to say something to the boy.

“And I think that one super fast quick attack you guys pulled off in the final set was really cool,” you tagged on. “It’s always fun to see the other team’s reactions whenever that happens.”

The two second years shot you a deadpan look. That’s not exactly what they meant, but they could see you struggling to string together any coherent sentence to your crush and decided not to press any further. You just couldn’t help it! You wanted to tell the present ray of sunshine that he played a great game, that he always played amazingly, despite his occasionally awkward receives or missed serves. He always gave each match 110%, and you wanted to express to him just how phenomenal he was, but just couldn’t find the right words without the fear of sounding completely obsessive and embarrassing. Nishinoya and Tanaka both glanced at each other, a silent agreement occurring between them in a matter of seconds.

Unlike Yachi and Kiyoko, the two boys weren’t opposed to a little meddling.

“Y/n is going to come to the meeting and maybe stay for that extra practice time we have planned,” Nishinoya mentioned, saving you from trying (and failing) to say anything else.

Hinata’s eyes lit up at the news. “For real? That’s great!”

The middle blocker enjoyed your presence at the Wednesday practices you’d attend, especially since it was where he got to witness your competitive and athletic side. So, getting to see more of that was welcomed any time.

You nodded in affirmation and popped a miniature pretzel in your mouth. “And since I was just dropped off at the complex and kind of need a ride, Kiyoko said that there was plenty of room for me to go back on the bus.”

“Hell yeah there is!” Tanaka grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You can sit with me and Nishinoya, duh.”

You smiled up at him. “Well obviously. Who else would I sit with?”

Nishinoya cheered, picking his game bag off the floor and gently grasping your hand. “Well let’s go find the others, then! Coach Ukai is probably getting impatient waiting for us at this point,” the libero insisted, pulling you towards the doorway of the building with Tanaka in tow.

“Alright, alright! Don’t make me drop my pretzels, Nishi,” you warned, letting yourself get dragged by the excited teen.

Hinata, Kageyama, and Tsukishima also started to gather their things to get on the bus, Yamaguchi doing the same after exiting the bathroom not long before the previous trio ran off to claim their seats. Tsukishima looked over at Hinata, who still had his eyes glued to the door from which his friends had just left, and seized the opportunity to try to get under Hinata’s skin just a little.

“Nishinoya and her are pretty close, don’t you think?” he mentioned briefly, before turning on his heel towards the doorway with Yamaguchi beside him. The pinch server spared a glance back at Hinata as he fell into step with his childhood friend. “Tsukki…”

Now Nishinoya was clearly a close friend to Hinata, as both of the boys were big balls of energy all the time, and as they both shared an immense love for volleyball. Hinata acknowledged his teammate’s tight knit relationship with you, and he was totally okay with that fact. But occasionally, the middle blocker would get a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had never really experienced before as he watched you interact with some of the boys on the team. It wasn’t an excessive amount of instances, but that feeling would bubble up from time to time - most notably when you would spend time with Karasuno’s libero. And whatever that feeling was, Hinata didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Oi, you coming, dumbass?” Kageyama questioned, snapping the ginger out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m coming, Bakeyama,” the middle blocker replied, readjusting his backpack and following Kageyama to the door.

******

The team was glad to see that you had come to watch them play, and you were quick to praise the boys on their well fought match. The ride back to school was relatively quiet, as many of the players wanted to either relax and listen to music or take a quick nap after their tiring game. As the bus continued on its route to Karasuno High School, it was evident that the energy and adrenaline felt earlier in the complex had calmed down, the boys given a chance to rest from the day’s events.

You, Nishinoya and Tanaka were seated near the back of the bus, with Hinata and Kageyama in the adjacent row. Tanaka was out like a light, his face pressed against the cool window next to him, while Nishinoya was struggling to get situated in the spot beside his teammate. From the corner of his eye, the libero could see Hinata sneaking subtle glances at you, as you unsuspectingly gazed at the passing scenery. With a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips, Nishinoya decided to kill two birds with one stone: try to help out with his friends’ crushes, and try to get himself a more comfortable napping spot.

“Hey, would you mind doing me a favor?” Nishinoya asked you in a soft tone, but just loud enough for the boy on the other side of the aisle to hear. You turned your attention to the libero, tilting your head to the side. “Sure thing, Nishi. What do you need?”

“Could I maybe lie down on you? It’s been a little difficult to find a decent position to get comfortable in,” he asked sheepishly. “If not, I totally get it.”

You smiled at the light pink that dusted his cheeks, and you patted your lap. “It’s alright, go ahead. You deserve to get some rest.”

Nishinoya offered you a smile of his own. He placed his legs over Tanaka’s snoozing form, knowing that his friend wouldn’t mind as they had been in similar positions on previous team bus rides. He then placed his head gently in your lap, gazing up at you before speaking up once more. “Thank you. You’re seriously the best.”

“It’s not a problem at all,” you waved it off.

The libero closed his eyes, sighing contentedly when he felt your hand brush through his hair. You absentmindedly hummed the soothing melody to a lullaby as you let your fingers carefully undo any tangles on his head. You paid special attention to the blonde streaks of hair that you always told the second year you adored, twirling the strands between your fingers and letting them fall back into place.

You were completely ignorant to the fact that the boy on the other end of the aisle felt a burning envy in his stomach as he witnessed the display from his peripheral vision. Your voice, which would have mesmerized Hinata under any other circumstance, did nothing to ease the emotions licking at his insides like unpleasant tendrils of flame. He desperately wanted to be able to sidle up next to you, wanted to feel your hands weave gently through his messy ginger hair. The fact that it wasn’t him made Hinata feel nauseous - worse than how he felt before a big game.

Because although Hinata was absolutely fine with you being close to the boys on his team, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get jealous.

Seated beside the middle blocker, Kageyama took note of his friend’s clenched fists and slightly tightened jaw, a stark contrast to Hinata’s usual happy-go-lucky enthusiasm. One look at the opposite side of the bus blatantly explained why. Kageyama was confused, though; Nishinoya knew just as much as the rest of the team that the decoy had his sights set on you, so why was he disregarding that fact right in front of him? The libero either didn’t realize what he was doing would upset his friend, or he knew exactly what he was up to. Was the whole thing intentional?

*****

Ohhh, it absolutely was. Kageyama figured that much out as soon as the team meeting started.

Nishinoya had been occasionally looking at Hinata to gauge the boy’s reaction, being careful not to overstep his boundaries, but pushing it just enough to see if the ginger would step in and make a move on you. From what Kageyama could tell, Tanaka was also in on this plan, but the wing spiker let his fellow second year handle most of the interactions with the brunette.

You were settled next to Kiyoko on the gymnasium floor, sitting with your legs stretched out as you listened in on the meeting. Nishinoya had his head resting on your shoulder the entire time, only shifting from his spot to steal more snacks from Tanaka’s backpack. If it weren’t for what Hinata had witnessed in the bus earlier that evening, he likely would have thought nothing of the second year’s actions. But now it was all he could think about, barely even focusing on the words coming out of Coach Ukai’s mouth. That feeling in his gut still hadn’t left him alone.

His discomfort was even more apparent when a number of the boys stayed behind after the meeting for some extra practice. Sugawara, who was the only third year who decided to postpone his walk home (mostly to keep an eye on his rambunctious children juniors), helped divide the group of six players into teams. Kageyama, Nishinoya, and Tanaka were on one team of three, while Suga, Hinata, and you were on the other. Despite the fact that he was on the same team as you, the middle blocker was still in a distant mood, and this showed when he completely botched the first two sets Suga tossed to him.

“Are you alright, Hinata? You seem a bit off at the moment,” you spoke softly behind him. When the ginger didn’t answer, she frowned slightly. “Shoyo…”

His first name coming from you had Hinata’s face heating up, not just because he loved the way his first name sounded on your lips, but because he was embarrassed. His bitter emotions had completely messed up his game, and caused him to practically ignore your concerned inquiry.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a little tired is all,” he brushed it off. “I‘ll be good to go now that I’ve warmed up a bit.”

“Oh, okay. Tell me if you need some water or anything, your face looks hot.” You instantly flushed at the choice of words. “I mean, it looks warm! Like a red - you know what I mean.”

Tanaka snickered at your stammering, and you shot him a glare of annoyance before turning on your heel to retrieve the volleyball that had rolled away from the group.

After that, the three-on-three game went pretty smoothly. Hinata was in a better mood, working well together with his two partners. You even got a few good spikes in during the match (although a majority of them were thwarted by Karasuno’s Guardian Deity). Before you all realized it, the moon was shining brightly in the sky, and Suga instructed everyone to go home and get rest in preparation for tomorrow’s first game. After putting back the equipment the group had borrowed from the storage room, you were on your way out the gym doors, until the voices of Tanaka and Nishinoya stopped you midway.

“Wait up, Y/n!” The libero called out to her. You turned her attention towards him, a soft smile resting on your face after the impromptu practice.

“There’s no way you’re walking home all by yourself at this time of night.” Tanaka declared firmly, and Nishinoya nodded his head vigorously.

“I’ll be fine, you guys. Besides, neither of you live all that close to me, so it would be unreasonable of you to walk me home,” you told them.

“Well, doesn’t Hinata live in the same area as you do? Why doesn’t he walk you home?” Nishinoya suggested.

On the other end of the gym, Hinata had caught wind of the conversation. The ginger’s head perked up at the idea of accompanying you home, and standing beside him, Kageyama finally realized what the two second years had been up to the whole day. You narrowed your eyes at the boys in suspicion, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good idea to have someone else with you at this hour. You gazed over at your fellow first years, finding that Hinata was already looking your way, and a light shade of pink dusted your face.

“I mean, if he wouldn’t mind it, I suppose it would probably be smart,” you shrugged.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he uttered out.

Tanaka and Nishinoya shared a sly grin. This was the most that the two could do for their two dense kohais, so the rest was up to you both.

“If you’re uh, ready to go, my bike is just outside,” Hinata sputtered.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m good to go,” you responded with an awkward thumbs up that you mentally smacked yourself for.

“Don’t go having too much fun now,” Tanaka smirked. “He’s still gotta play tomorrow.”

His raised eyebrows and overall suggestive expression were met with a playful smack on the arm.

“Shut up, you big weirdo,” you scoffed, and before any more comments could be made by your two dorks of friends, you rushed out the gym door after Hinata.

Seeing the boy waiting outside for you, his fiery orange hair illuminated by the glimmering starlight like a cliche movie scene, you nearly tripped on the staircase by the school’s entrance. When he turned to you with an easy smile, your heart practically busted out of your chest. Damn him and his cute face.

You approached him at the gate and readjusted the bag on your shoulders, trying to remain calm at the realization that you were going to be alone with her favorite ray of sunshine. Beginning on the path up the hill, Hinata decides to push his bike alongside him in order to stay closer to you.

“I didn’t realize you lived that close to me until Noya said something tonight,” the middle blocker mentioned.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I’m surprised you haven’t been over before.”

“Maybe I should come visit sometime.” Hinata’s eyes widened at the implication and quickly added, “Like, with the rest of the team!”

You laughed softly. “That sounds like fun.”

You both walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Hinata spoke up.

“So, does that mean Nishinoya has been over to your place before?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s been over a few times now,” you confirmed.

“Oh, that's cool.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his response, his voice laced with what you could only recognize as disappointment.

“Why do you ask?” you inquired.

“Well, you both just seemed really close is all.” The first year ran a hand through his hair. “Even Tsukishima noticed.”

“Well, Nishi and I are really good friends, and we know a lot about each other, so I guess that’s an accurate description.”

Hinata glanced at you and titled his head a fraction, which you thought made him look like an adorable little puppy.

“Really good...friends?” he murmured.

You nodded affirmatively. “Yeah, he’s like an older brother. Did you think we were dating or something?” you laughed. You meant it as a joke, but when the boy didn’t reply, your eyes widened a fraction and you stopped walking.

“You thought me and Nishi were, like, together together?” you gaped.

At this point Hinata was burning red. He nodded bashfully, and you fell into fits of giggles, placing your hands on your knees for support.

“H-hey! It was a justified question!” Hinata defended himself. “He fell asleep on you in the bus today and it looked like a normal thing for you two, so I just figured!”

You stood straight and composed yourself, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you started walking again.

“As much as I love Nishinoya, we’re definitely not dating,” you explained. “It’s a platonic relationship, nothing more.”

Hinata mentally celebrated at the confirmation that there was nothing going on between you and the libero, although he was embarrassed beyond words at this point in the conversation.

“I’m super sorry!! I just thought- I shouldn’t have assumed,” he apologized, scratching the back of his head.

“Awe, it’s okay, Shoyo. I guess we do act a bit like a couple sometimes, but...I’m not actually seeing anyone at the moment.” You added on without a second thought, “Nishi knows who I really like, though.”

Hinata frowned a bit at the latter sentence, but he remained in a better mood than before.

“So…do I know this person?” he inquired, feeling quite courageous himself.

You hummed, a blush creeping up your neck. “So what if you do?”

“Is it someone on the team?”

“Are we playing twenty questions or something now?” you laughed nervously.

Stupid! Why did I even mention anything in the first place? you mentally cursed yourself.

The ginger felt his heart rate pick up. Out of hope or anxiety, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“What’s he like?” Hinata heard himself asking.

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the ironic inquiry, and decided to answer his question.

“He’s probably the most energetic person I’ve ever met, but in a good way. He’s really kind to everyone, even though he can get very competitive. While he’s not the most studious, I can tell he tries his hardest to do his best in everything he does. Not to mention he’s incredibly cute.” You chanced a glance at the intently staring first year for a brief moment before focusing your attention back on the sidewalk, thankful for the dim lights of the street. “Sometimes I find it just…so difficult to not mess with his hair, too. It’s so overwhelmingly fluffy.

Hinata let out a small sigh. He didn’t think there was any way he could compete with the special someone that you had described so fondly.

“Well, it sounds like you really like him,” he said simply, a halfhearted smile on his face. “He’s a really lucky guy, whoever he is.”

At his genuine tone, you raised her head to lock eyes with Hinata, who was looking at you with such an honest expression that your breath hitched in your throat. You slowed down in the middle of the empty walkway.

“It’s you, ya big dummy,” you admitted quietly, fiddling nervously with your sweatshirt sleeves.

Hinata heard it. You could tell that much from the way his eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“It’s me?” he echoed.

You nodded once, not able to speak as you evaluated his reaction. Hinata clumsily pushed the kickstand of his bike down with wide eyes, maneuvering around it to step closer to you and examine your face, trying to determine if this was real or all in his head.

“I like you too. Like a lot,” he managed to confess, a delighted grin gracing his features.

You felt like you were dreaming and about to wake up at any moment, the urge to pinch yourself just for confirmation that this was all real itching at the back of your mind. But your train of coherent thought quickly dissipated when Hinata gingerly moved a hand up to your flushed cheek, brushing your jaw with his thumb and looking up with warm brown eyes.

“Could I kiss you?” he asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

“Please do,” you conceded.

Hinata brushed his lips with yours, in a brief but sweet exchange. He did so the second time in the same manner to experiment, and again, just to confirm that this moment was actually happening, before all but backing you into the bike behind them as you tugged at the collar of his shirt. His lips were softer than expected, and you tasted the fruity flavor of what you assumed to be lip balm lingering on them. You could feel the boy grinning into the kiss, this one longer and firmer than their predecessors, and you eagerly tangled your fingers in his fluffy orange hair that was impossibly softer than imagined. His own hands found themselves planted firmly on your waist to secure you from losing balance, drawing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. Your entire body was buzzing with excitement, practically melting when Hinata traced your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hinata pulled away briefly to catch his breath, a fire blazing in his eyes that had you shying away from his gaze. He took a hand off of your waist and tilted your face back towards him with his index finger, a newfound confidence radiating off of the first year in droves that had you flushing darker than you thought possible.

“Shoyo,” you spoke his name softly, pulling a bit at the fiery strands of hair still twirled between your fingers. The little hum elicited from Hinata’s throat was one of your new favorite sounds.

“Please use my first name more often,” the boy breathed out, and you couldn’t help but laugh airily at the request, Hinata unable to suppress the satisfied smile that bloomed across his flushed face at the sound.

“That was… unexpected,” you murmured.

“Good unexpected?” the ginger inquired playfully.

“Very good unexpected,” you joked lightly.

Hinata wrapped you in a warm hug, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. You reciprocated the action, arms encircling around his figure, taking in everything that had happened with an enormous smile.

You might just have to thank Nishinoya later.

#hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #hinata fluff #hinata #hinata imagine #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyuo #hinata shouyo x reader #fluff

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romancingromanoff · 4 years

Text

Pride and Joy (Natasha x f!reader)

Author’s note: Pride is first and foremost a celebration we are privileged to have because of the bravery and sacrifices of so many. It was black trans women that lead the Stonewall Riots back in 1969 and yet black trans women remain some of the most vulnerable in our community. We need to step up. I’ve linked some petitions and places where you can donate at the end of this post so please, please, please, don’t ignore them.

Plot: Two gay girls head to Pride and you end up gaining some attention. Also this one is super cheesy but I’ve just got to accept that cheesy is my go-to style ugh. I also used she/her/hers pronouns for this one but if you’d like for me to do gender-neutral or use any other sort of pronouns just let me know and I’d be glad to do so :)

The cafe door swung open again and two new voices came under her radar.

“I’m telling you, every year this is THE spot to pick up cute femme girls.”

“I’m sorry, but did you miss the group of straight white frat boys obnoxiously ingesting natty light across the street?! They’re completely killing the vibe. Honestly, it should be a crime for the straights to show up here.”

“No, that’s the point,” the first person began to explain before lowering their voice to only a few notches above a whisper. “Brad and Chad over there hit on the stray femme girls with the whole ‘Oh, you just haven’t been with the right guy yet’ spiel and then try to convince them that they can change their mind. That’s when we step in, put them in their place, bruise their masculinity a bit, and ba-da-bing ba-da-boom, you’re the hero and you get to sweep her off her feet.”

“Jen, you’re a genius.”

“I know that’s what I’ve been telling you! Now buy me some iced coffee cause I’m broke.”

It was an solid plan that the pair of friends obviously didn’t want anyone else to overhear. Fortunately for them, Natasha couldn’t care less. As she continued to sit there sipping on her tea, no one would suspect that she was a former assassin casually eavesdropping into every individual conversation going on. It was technically her day off, but hey, she had time to kill while she was waiting and not much to entertain herself with. So Natasha silently applauded the two and continued on with her crossword puzzle.

The parade wasn’t normally her scene, but the redheaded avenger knew she just couldn’t say no to her girlfriend who was ecstatic about her first Pride.

“Nat, pleeeeeeeassee???” You had begged her all the way up till the night before to go with you. “I was kidding with the matching shirts. You don’t have to wear it, just please come.”

“Fine,” she gave in with a playful roll of her eyes. “But just so you know, it’s going to be crowded, loud, and you’re going to get pretty sweaty. I know you want to wear those rainbow slip-ons Bucky got you for Christmas but please don’t. They offer zero support for your arches.”

Natasha then continued to lecture you on safety 101. Don’t put your phone in your back pocket, blah blah, don’t wear a backpack, blah blah blah. It was a lot to follow just to make sure your paranoid girlfriend didn’t have to worry about you, but you knew it was all out of love. Unfortunately, the one thing you’d forgotten about before leaving the house was going to the bathroom, which is why the two of you had made a pitstop at a small corner cafe.

“The girl who just came out of the bathroom,” the voice that belonged to Jen almost caused Natasha to jolt. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah, she’s cute,” the other one woefully confirmed that they were, indeed, talking about her girlfriend.

You were dressed down in a white “Love is Love” t-shirt that sported two rainbow stick-women holding hands under a rainbow. It was supposed to go with Natasha’s matching black one but she was very against supporting capitalist corporations that sought to make money off of Pride Month merchandise. The rest of your outfit’s ensemble consisted of your favorite pair of shorts and some comfy white sneakers but the real show-stopper was your hair. It had taken hours of braiding to weave your hair so intricately into the flower crown that had taken even longer to craft. You were excited to show off your DIY project you’d had pinned on Pinterest for the last few years even if Nat hadn’t understood the hype.

“Sweetheart, you’re putting hours of work into this thing. I know you like doing it but we can just buy you one and save you the trouble.”

“That’s not the point, Nat,” you sighed never looking up from the hot glue gun you were trying to wield. “I get that I might not be super gifted when it comes to creative things like this but I’ll just feel proud of myself knowing I did it when it’s all put together.”

And right now, Natasha was really wishing she had pushed back harder and gone with the store-bought crown because you were standing there looking like a woodland fairy princess with your bubblegum lipgloss and GODDAMNIT why did her girlfriend have to be so freakin adorable all the time!??

You were still searching the crowd as Natasha’s blood began to boil. Jealousy urged her to march straight up to you and begin making out, claiming you as hers in front of everybody. Then the two of you would storm out of there, confront the gross heteros that would undoubtedly hit on Y/N, she’d beat them up and it’d be a solid victory for the badass super spy. A possible bonus could be that you get too frazzled and end up going home early.

But then she hesitated thinking that maybe you wouldn’t appreciate that. “No,” she thought to herself and calculated a better plan. “That’s possessive, gross, and directly from the straight male playbook. I love Y/N. I respect her. And holy fuck I guess I really am just gonna do this.”

Nat’s eyes ironically enough lit up at that same moment when you finally spotted her and waved eagerly with a giant smile on your face. She wasn’t too ecstatic about what she knew she had to do, but she knew it would make you happy.”

“Hey babe!” you greeted her with your full attention. It was clear from your demeanor that you were oblivious to the fact Jen and quite possibly many others were checking you out. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Actually, I think I might have to go too, but wait here,” Nat casually mentioned before slipping into the bathroom. That caught you off guard and you figured something was going on. Natasha never had to go to the bathroom. I mean, she did have to go, obviously, but it was never random and certainly never in public restrooms. Your anxiety began climbing as you went through all the scenarios in your head. Could it be that something was about to go down? You were sure that she had it handled but it bothered you slightly that she hadn’t told you ahead of time. Unless it was something more serious and urgent? There was that one time you two had gone on a day cruise but ended up getting airlifted out of the ocean when Nat ran into some Serbian gun traders. Your stomach was doing flips out of fear that you all might be in danger as you hesitantly knocked on the door.

“Nat, is everything okay?” you shook. “I don’t want to stress you out if you have some important stuff to do, but I am a little worried that-”

Door swung open and there she stood: Your gorgeous girlfriend, NOT suited up, but in fact wearing the matching black t-shirt.

“Seriously?! You know that you almost gave me a heart attack over here!” you half cry half beam with joy at the sight of your girlfriend laughing hysterically at you.

“I know and I’m sorry babe,” she kissed you sweetly on your forehead. “But these girls over there were checking you out and I had to make a quick change into this.”

“But you actually brought it? Sam didn’t have to do like a fly-by and drop it off to you in super stealth mode?”

Her reaction to your question was too good. “No, of course I brought it. We used the same bathroom right? You know there’s no window in there. How would Sam even be able to-”

You interrupt her with a quick peck on the lips. “Shut up and stop making me feel dumb, I’m just touched that you brought it and have it on now. We’re gonna get such great couple photos!”

“Oh shit, they’re definitely together,” Natasha could overhear Jen’s friend comment from across the cafe.

“I mean that sucks but also they make such a cute couple!” Jen unknowingly complimented the two which made Natasha laugh quietly to herself. She really had no reason to feel threatened or insecure about her relationship. Y/N was an amazing girlfriend and if there were any areas of improvement then they’d probably be on Natasha’s side. The spy then made a mental note to show appreciation for her more before remembering another detail.

“Actually, do you mind going out the back door? There’s just a sleazy group of straight guys out there hitting on women that I don’t care to run into.”

“Ew, let’s definitely do that,” you agreed wholeheartedly. “You know guys like that deserve to be put in their place.”

“Don’t encourage me,” Nat bit her bottom lip, ever-so tempted. “Because I was considering that at first.”

“No,” you grabbed her arm twisting her back around to you. “We should go over there and see if they actually have the nerve. And if they do, you beating them up honestly sounds super hot right now.”

“Wait, I thought you didn’t condone violence,” Nat raised an eyebrow at your proposition.

“Normally I don’t. But you’d look so cute doing it in our matching t-shirts!”

Nat rolled her eyes, smiling, thinking of how proud she was of her girlfriend.

LINKS

Petition for Justice for Tony McDade: https://www.change.org/p/justice-for-tony-mcdade

GoFundMe for Tony McDade's Funeral and Family: https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-tony-mcdade

Petition for Justice for Dominique Fells: https://www.change.org/p/philadelphia-police-department-justice-for-dominique-fells

GoFundMe for Dominique Fells' Funeral Costs: https://www.gofundme.com/f/dominiquefells

Petition for Justice for Riah Milton: https://www.change.org/p/liberty-townships-board-of-trustees-justice-for-riah-milton-womanmurdered-in-liberty-township-ohio

#natasha romanoff #natasha #natasha x reader #natasha x you #reader #reader insert #the avengers #black widow #fanfi #fluff #cheesy #pride #i'm not that good of a writer

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years

Note

What are your thoughts about how Dean's being treated in the narrative this season? I was excited starting out but so far, I've just been disappointed by how he just seems superfluous to the plot. And I don't understand why the writers seem to be taking shots at him in almost every episode. The Achilles' heel thing, putting responsibility for the rift on his shoulders (while Cas' part is handwaved away), Garth's snub in naming his children, his undisputed claim that Sam is better than him (1)

at everything, Fortuna’s insult…it’s just a lot. Maybe it wouldn’t be so jarring if Dean wasn’t the only character being consistently treated like that. To be fair, it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve liked some of his character development (although I find his new tendency to not voice his dissenting opinion a little worrisome, given his natural intuition) and there have been some awesome scenes like standing up to Chuck. But I just don’t know…(2)

Thank you for this ask! I think it’s an interesting thing to explore. I have been feeling a little iffy about some things this season, too, so I want to use this opportunity to sort through my own thoughts. It’s gonna get long so I’ll put a read more…

Let’s start from the easy part. 15x11: I don’t think that Fortuna was genuine when she made that comment about Dean, and we’re not supposed to take the beach read comment as a reliable perspective. All she does is a sort of test to read them; she lets both Dean and Sam win a match against her at first, as a sort of test but also as a trick to make her opponent confident and make him play again. Except that Dean’s second match is against a very talented player, and he wins not because he’s lucky, but because he’s genuinely skilled. He proves that his skills at pool - a shorthand for his skills in general, which they had been doubting of, wondering whether it was all Chuck - are real.

Could skills beat luck? Probably not when luck is the goddess of luck herself, but I wonder whether Fortuna picked Sam as her opponent when stakes got high instead of Dean because she wanted to play against the less skilled of the two. I think that she’s playing them on and also off the pool table, and Dean realizes this when she goes “this one could be interesting”, you can tell from his reaction that he’s like “hey that’s a trick to play with the less skilled one of us” but Sam takes the bait. She also pretends to fall for Sam’s trick of distracting her by making her talk, just to reveal she can win whenever she wants to when the stakes are final. From what we’ve seen of her, I think we can infer that her modus operandi is to make people confident, so they’ll play again, higher the stakes, and then lose, not necessarily against her, just against someone, and lose their luck - she plays first with Dean when she doesn’t know who he is, and I assume it’s a common trick - let the newcomer win to stroke his confidence. (In gambling, the idea is to give players smalls wins to make them gamble more, and lose more.)

So, the narrative doesn’t give us any reason to believe that Dean isn’t right when he says that he is better than Sam at pool, and the point of the “beach read” comment is that he is not a beach read. Fortuna is supposed to be an unreliable narrator at that point, because she’s testing them. In fact, at the end, she rewards them on the ground of being “heroes”, which invalidates her previous statement, be it genuine or not.

Also consider that “sexy but skimmable” i.e. a pretty idiot, is the sort of taunt that Dean has received often in his life. If Fortuna is truly skilled at reading people, then she picks exactly something that has a history for Dean, and also something that has a history for Sam, i.e. that he’s more “interesting” (smart, skilled, whatever) than his brother. Coincidence?

That he’s pretty but otherwise worthless is something Dean has internalized by being told, not necessarily in words, over and over in his life. That reminded me of John’s old hunter friend who was like “didn’t you grow up pretty” and “if your father could see you now”. It took Dean a long time (and with plenty of fallbacks) to realize he’s more than a pretty face who follows orders. On the other hand, that he’s a more interesting “read” to Dean’s “beach read” is something Sam’s always had in his mind (he was the one who questioned the orders while Dean acted as John’s faithful little dog…) and it took him a long time, and some big blows to his own ego, to get out of that mindset.

So I don’t think it’s random that Fortuna goes for, you know, down with Dean and up with Sam, so to speak.

Dean’s statement that Sam is better than him at everything except pool - I read that as a very parental thing. It’s a very parent thing: telling your child that they’re proud of them for surpassing you. It should be the goal of a parent, you know, that your child is a better person than you - and a parent being like, you’ve become more skilled than me at my skills (except this one non-fundamental thing I can still kick your ass at :p) and I am proud of you, is a common trope.

So I read that as a small but very strong Dean-as-Sam’s-parent moment. Recently Sam also mentioned out loud that Dean raised him, so the writing team has not dropped this very important piece of characterization.

15x10. I think that the point is that Garth is Dean’s friend first and foremost. He doesn’t name his kids after his friends plural, he names his kids after the most important people for his friend singular. That’s how I read it at least. It’s weird because Dean hears one twin is named after Sam and assumes the two siblings are named after the two siblings, and the dissonance between his expectation and reality is what makes the humor. Also… Garth and Dean are a “who knows maybe in another life” kind of duo, you know…? They have a chemistry. Garth is Dean’s type, once you go past the appearances, and judging from Garth’s choice in wife, Dean’s pretty much his type too. You don’t name a child after that kind of person in your life.

Also, from a extra-diegetic perspective, Dean’s mirror is Gertie (from the name Gertrude meaning “strong spear/spear of strength”), the girl, because he’s always aligned with the feminine.

15x09. Now, this is the episode I’ve struggled the most with. Not sure if the problem is the episode itself, or the fact that the episode came after a season of the fandom acting a certain way towards Dean and Cas and their conflict, and that colored the episode a certain tint for me.

I’m kind of suspending judgement as I wait to see how the rest of the season goes and how Dean and Cas’ relationship develops, but my fear is that the narrative never really allows Dean to have emotions, so to speak, nor addresses Cas’ side of the issue(s). 15x09 itself is telling of a certain problem - Dean is experiencing certain emotions and going through a certain thing with Cas, but bam something happens that makes him terrified that he’s lost Cas again, and that forces him to scrap what he was going through. I’m not sure I’m explaining myself well here but bear with me.

He doesn’t get to sort through his emotions, he just goes in emergency mode again and the emergency just gives a yank to his emotions. I suppose the intent was “situation makes Dean realize he doesn’t want to lose Cas/he was wrong at making Cas the emotional scapegoat of his anger” but I don’t think it really worked. Dean was grieving and experiencing one of the most severe traumatic things in his life (actually, multiple at the same time). There’s no “right” or “wrong” in his emotions. I’m not saying that grief/trauma gives you a free card to be mean to others but… I mean, it does?? I think we’ve sort of created a culture of yelling “that’s abusive!!” at what are normal human experiences and expect that a person should act “properly” at all times. There’s a refrain of “x experience explains the behavior of y but doesn’t justify it!” which, sure, is valid with certain kinds of behavior, but there’s a whole jumble of normal human experiences in between “good” behavior and unjustifiable behavior.

Maybe I’m just culturally Catholic to the core, but all this pressure on Dean to beg for forgiveness for being harsh to Cas feels… iffy to me.

I guess I see forgiveness a bit differently, too, because I don’t think forgiveness - and especially when and how quickly you get there - is a choice. If Dean wasn’t emotionally ready to forgive Cas and open up emotionally to him again, then making him feel guilty for not being quick enough to get there is not exactly my idea of a healthy process.

Then there’s the “you didn’t stop me”, which, I get the whole thing behind it - Cas’ deepest fear is that Dean doesn’t care if he leaves, Dean’s deepest fear is that Cas is better off if he leaves, so, draaaama~~. But Dean has a history of people leaving him and feeling he can’t (isn’t worth) ask them to stay instead. Sure, it’s good drama. But I’m not sure that the narrative is allowing the space for understanding that Dean needs the emotional security of feeling like he’s worth to ask to stay just like Cas needs the emotional security of feeling like he has a place where he belongs and isn’t just a guest.

Again, I think it would be unfair to draw judgement of a narrative that is ongoing, and I hope that my fears are unfounded and the narrative will address what I wish it addresses! Of course with a little less than half a season still to go, emotional conflicts and character development can’t be wrapped up yet.

Another point you bring up is Dean’s reluctance to express his dissenting opinion. I do not think we have a pattern yet - his acceptance of Sam’s decision not to trap Chuck was intended, I guess, as a moment of growth in the sense that he acknowledged that Sam is a grown adult capable of drawing his judgement and make informed decisions, so he trusts Sam’s judgement and doesn’t drill him with questions. We still have to see how they all react to Jack’s revelation about Billie’s plan, so I would say to wait and see about that. Dean’s face at the end is not a “well this is excellent news” face, nor is Sam’s (who is framed after Jack talks about getting stronger, which is something Sam has a history with). Considering this season brought Lilith back, I’m sure they haven’t forgotten about Sam’s demon blood arc... I do wonder if Dean will avoid getting too confrontational with Cas, though. We’ll see.

Now, you say that he seems “superfluous to the plot”. I would normally say, well of course he’s superfluous to the plot, he’s the protagonist, he’s the one that reacts to the plot that happens around him. But I understand this is not the kind of answer you’re looking for. Honestly, I might be wrong, but I think that the first roughly-half of the season is the Male Part. The second part of the season should be the Female Part. In the first part, Chuck is rampant, Billie’s plan is dormant, Amara is minding her business and not being relevant to the plot, the plot is Sam-heavy, Rowena dies and reverts to playing a game of power, Mary is dead, Eileen is a piece played by Chuck. Now, with Billie’s plan being put in motion (although I don’t believe that’s the endgame or a Good Thing™ in unquestioning terms, but it’s still Death entering the game), I think a new phase should start. Dean confronting Chuck was already a start, and also how they got some support from a female deity that expressed negative opinions about Chuck -- I think that we’ve entered the second part of the season, and things are going to change. I’m looking forward to see what will be Amara’s role in all of this... especially considering that’s inextricably related to Dean’s role.

Feel free to ask for any clarification or addition or argument!!

#anon #my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 15x09 #spn 15x10 #spn 15x11 #dean #dean and sam #dean and cas #dean and garth #spn

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batgirl-87 · 4 years

Note

For HM future ask numbers 8,9,10 and 11? I hope this helps distract you :)

Thank you for asking! 😁

From this Ask

8. How is MC’s and Jacob’s relationship now?

There may have been some tension and a need to rebuild after his disappearance and everything they went through. He left her! They were supposed to be a team! Them against the world! And he left her! Sure he may have his reasons, maybe he was trying to protect her - but look at how well that worked out!

So some time is definitely needed to mend things but despite everything they’re still brother and sister, it still does feel like it’s them against the world - they’ve been through a lot together and only had each other to rely on. They’re still the first person the other thinks of when anything happens, good or bad to tell, to talk to, to turn to for help. And if the other called on them for help they’d drop whatever they were doing to be there for them.

So after some time to mend and rebuild things, they’re back to being partners in crime...fighting =p They stay in contact with each other and talk as much as possible, support each other’s endeavors, and get together as often as possible.

9. Does MC keep in touch with all their friends? Which ones do they write to the most?

They can try to escape Keira but it would be to no avail =p She loves and appreciates all her friends and all they have done for her. And she wants to keep them in her life or at least let them know how much she cherishes and appreciates them.

Of the ones she writes to the most... Well Charlie but they are sort of more than friends 😜

Tonks, of course! She wants to keep the little family she has close and Tonks and her are more than just family, they’re best friends! And they want to make sure each other is safe in their respected fields. Plus Tonks always makes her laugh still in writing. And she writes to Penny a lot who always sends her some gift with each other letter - so sweet! And Penny always manages to brighten her day with whatever she has to say and she needs the positivity still in her life. Greatly appreciated! And Penny is also probably their personal Healer in a sense that sends them healing potions they’ll need.

She also writes a lot to Barnaby, Jae, and Andre, partially for their friendship, of course, but also for work purposes. She’s always interested in Barnaby’s magical creature adventures and discoveries, plus he can provide some knowledge and insight into creatures she and Bill encounter as Curse-Breakers. And I have a personal HC that they work with Andre to create some better resistant and safer clothes, like light, comfortable armor they can wear on their Curse-Breaker missions. And Jae, well you never know what items will come in handy that he may have for them to aid them on missions, plus maybe he begins to design his own devices and they can test them out and use them on missions. And, hey, Jae also might be very good and helpful at determining certain artifacts they find...And he has connections to some shady underground business...

She still writes to the others - Tulip, Ben, Badeea, Talbott, Diego, Chiara etc. (Liz is probably working with Barnaby so she just stays in touch via Barnaby as well =p) but those handful she’s in contact with more often, partially for business or family reasons. Plus she knows they’ll all busy living their lives and doesn’t want to be a bother or worry them about her Curse-Breaker adventures but definitely keeps them informed that she and Bill are safe, no need to worry!

10. How often does MC see their friends? Do they have an ‘anniversary’ where they all get together?

Well she sees Bill like every day because they’re partners and roommates *gasp* they were roommates...

She and Charlie travel to see each other as much as they can and stay in consistent contact as well as coordinate their visits back to the UK.

She actually sees Andre, Jae, Barnaby, and Liz often because, as mentioned previously, they do some work together so someone is traveling to see the other for some sort of reason - Barnaby and Liz are studying creatures there, Keira and Bill have new prototype clothes to try from or that need repairing by Andre (who’s designing clothes for them on top of his other work inspired/persuaded by Keira to do so - idk if he is going to become a fashion designer but he’d be great at it and definitely has the talent/skill for it so he can still do that and be a Quidditch player/working in Quidditch - The Quidditch Designer)

And Jae for any items that may help them with their Curse-Breaking, help identifying or learning more about some objects found, and insight into what is happening with cursed object/artifacts bounty hunters, what’s being said in the underground shady business about these objects, etc. - essentially their personal source into illegal business dealings in their field.

She also actually sees Tonks and Jacob a lot, as much as possible, because they’re family and she loves them, supports them in their career endeavors; plus she and Bill may need to work with Tonks and Moody in some cases.

Any time she travels back to the UK she does try to alert anyone working there/still there that she’ll be there so they can get together and see each other. Although she sometimes does just pop up to surprise them =p Especially on birthdays! She’ll definitely always try to celebrate everyone’s birthday with them or at least send them something great and schedule a time to celebrate when they’re free.

And they definitely have a few anniversaries they celebrate. Couldn’t have just one =p

They probably celebrate on September 1 for just meeting all at Hogwarts, an anniversary to celebrate all the Vaults they survived, of course an anniversary honoring Rowan... I want to say at least one per season? Fall for meeting at Hogwarts and becoming friends, Winter for Rowan, Spring for surviving the Vaults, and Summer... I’m sure I’ll figure something out... It would help if I could better remember everything that’s happened so far 😅

Just overall being Victorious over ‘R’, the cabal - their enemies?

11. Who in the friend group was involved with the smuggling of Norbert out of Hogwarts? And how did that whole situation go?

Keira and Tonks, for sure. I’m on the fence whether Charlie was there or Norbert was just delivered to him but I’m pretty sure it’s canon that Charlie’s friends sneak Norbert out and deliver the dragon to him so he’s not actually a part of it, right?

Tulip could help develop a plan and Barnaby is the magical creature expert. Liz might even want in but I don’t want too many people! But she definitely supports it, if she doesn’t just show up to help =p And the rest of the friends, Penny, Ben, etc. will definitely know about it and await to hear how it goes down. Penny may try to figure out how to set up a muggle camera to record what happens - live stream it

So Tulip and Tonks are in charge of making the plan and then they, with Barnaby and Keira execute it to get Norbert safely out of Hogwarts. Although, with Tonks working on becoming an Auror she honestly is hesitant to go along with this and join in - despite how fun it sounds, she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her career. But fortunately Keira is persuasive...

“Please, we can’t do this without you! We need you and your expertise!”

“I don’t know...”

“It’s a rescue mission! We have to get the innocent little dragon somewhere safe before they find it! Who better to do that than an Auror? This can really help you with your training. No one will find out. And if they do, I’ll take the blame, keep your name out of it. Besides... you know you want to. Come on, one last mischief mission - mischief rescue mission!”

“....Okay! Let’s do this!”

The gang meets in a top secret location - Okay, honestly, they probably gather at the Three Broomsticks - like old times! Commandeer the top floor for themselves, Tonks and Tulip lay out the plans across a table, they have a couple pints of Butterbeer or Fire Whiskey which is sure to make this mission a hoot.

And by gang I mean those going on the mission as well as some extras who just want to witness as much as they can of this sure to be disaster of a mission or want to help make sure it’s not a complete disaster, such as Penny and Liz. Why do I feel like Andre, Jae, and Talbott would come just to witness the sure to be disaster? =p Jae could also offer some advice with smuggling things in and out of Hogwarts. Kind of his thing.

I feel like Bill is probably just hanging with Charlie, waiting for the dragon to be delivered because his work partner is gone, doing this nonsense, so he has a couple days off. Why not spend them with his brother?

(I so wish there was texting for wizards somehow or some speedy type of mail.

“Your girlfriend is going to try to smuggle a dragon out of Hogwarts!”

“She’ll be fine. She’s overcome more challenging obstacles before.”

“I just got a message from Andre. They’re on their third pint.”

“....I’m sure they’ll be fine...It’ll be fine...” 😬)

“Are you sure you guys can sneak onto Hogwarts grounds,” Penny asked, clearly concerned for her friends.

“Fenrir and his pack of werewolves snuck into Hogwarts. We definitely can,” Keira informed her. Despite what everyone claims, Hogwarts was not really all that safe!

They could just fly in, but that could be way to obvious and they could be spotted - “Is it really a risk to get caught. I mean, what are they going to do? Give us detention? Expel us? We don’t even go there anymore!” “Wouldn’t they want the dragon out of Hogwarts anyway? They should be paying us to take it!” - probably both said by Jae tbh... - Or Keira could sneak them through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow and then they could take their brooms and fly up to the tower.

I imagine Harry and Hermione are a little excited to meet Charlie’s friends after all they’ve heard about them especially how much Ron praises his eldest brothers and their adventures with their friends while they were at Hogwarts. And now they were a Curse-Breaker and Dragonologist?! Cool! And their friends were also a Curse-Breaker, an Auror, and a Magizoologist - that’s cool! However, Ron is secretly dreading it because he knows they’re really a bunch of dorks. And now they were tipsy dorks =p

Somehow the gang arrives before the Hogwarts First Year students on top of the tower and Tonks decides to mess with them, because that’s the type of person she is and when the trio appears (I can’t remember if Ron is in the hospital wing still or not but for my version he’s there so Keira can tease him =p) Tonks comes out from the shadows looking like Snape and scares them causing the gang to burst into laughter and come out from the shadows as well. Probably all wearing leather jackets. They look so cool. Sorry, they couldn’t resist messing with them! And honestly, a metamorphmagus?! How cool was that? Charlie had cool friends! (And since Harry isn’t the most observant, brightest kid he probably forgot he ever met Tonks until they’re reunited years later. May never even remember at all! =p)

Barnaby goes straight to the dragon because he’s so excited to see that!

“I’m no dragon expert like Charlie but... I’m pretty sure this is a female...”

Keira messes up Ron’s hair and teases him about how much he’s grown and she remembers when he was 6 years old and sadly being tormented by Fred and George and hurt his tongue with that Acid Pop... But he talks so well, no one can even tell! She was worried there might be permanent damage =p Oh no, what happened to your hand, Ron?! Oh poor little baby Ronnie *forces into a tight embrace* Honestly I feel like it’s a lot of teasing little Ron because Charlie’s friends have definitely been invited at least once over to the Weasleys’ for something - a summer bbq, a holiday or birthday celebration - and have been around little Ronnie!

And hey, where are Fred and George? How are they not a part of this? Also do they not miss them because they miss the Twins! The Twins definitely have to miss them, I mean, they basically idolize Tonks, Tulip, and Keira’s mischief making and Barnaby is cool and funny =p

Ron decided that it was best to leave them out of this, they get into enough trouble on their own he didn’t want to get them involved in this too. Plus they’d probably use this to blackmail him somehow... Charlie and Bill wouldn’t do that to him. But now Keira might...crap.

And within five minutes of meeting Hermione declares she should be in Ravenclaw instead and told all of them to make friends in other Houses - it’ll enrich their lives. They were all from different Houses! And say one bad thing about Slytherins and she and Barnaby will beat you into a bloody pulp!

Honestly I don’t think Harry and Hermione know how to take these friends. Tulip and Tonks reminisce on all the pranks they played, Keira is resorting them into Houses and threatening to kick their arse if they disrespect Slytherins, Barnaby is attempting to better check on Norbert’s gender while narrowly missing being bitten or burnt. They’re just kind of a lot... And not really what they expected...

They worked so hard on this mission, made plans, and now they’re just reminiscing on their time at Hogwarts and seem to have forgotten that they could get in trouble and have tossed the plans out the window - but like, what are they really going to do to them? They’ve also done way worse than smuggle a dragon out of the school, so the three little first years need to chill. They’ve literally fought a dragon here before, and not a baby one, so relax.

Then Keira's all "oh so you're Harry" and basically glares at him and snubs him muttering about how he’s not that special - which honestly is a relief to him because he’s tired of being told he is! But hey, he’s a cute kid and life is going to get tough for you, trust her she knows *pats his head awkwardly* Also, Hermione is clearly the smartest one of you all so they both should listen to her, always.

Meanwhile, Ron is urging them to take the dragon and go and get them out of there as soon as possible because the longer they’re there the more Harry and Hermione will see how not really cool they are =p Oh, also they could get in trouble...

On one hand, they’re super cool - the jobs they have now are cool, hearing some of their stories as they reminisce are cool, and honestly they’re funny and nice and they appreciate their help! On the other hand, they’re...kind of drunk =p And dorks... and a little scary.... and weird... And after they take the dragon and leave Harry and Hermione are like ‘did that really happen?’ and Ron is just humiliated. He claims it was the Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey they clearly drank before this that made them act that way and honestly they’re way cooler than that. And because they’re in such a daze and distracted by all that, they forget about the invisibility cloak and get busted.

And that is not Keira or any of the gang’s fault!

They take the dragon, reunite with their other friends briefly - because they’re definitely not allowed to bring a dragon into the Three Broomsticks and they don’t want to get banned from there - who are surprised they actually managed to do it without getting busted or anyone getting bitten or their eyebrows singed off. And then Barnaby and Keira take the dragon to Charlie and Bill and tell them their tale 😊😆

#thank you for asking!#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #my mc #ask game #adelyn keira black #ledenicvet

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notaghost3 · 4 years

Note

Fic asks: 3, 7, 13, 18

3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

Usually start to finish, my especially for one-shots with lots of different separate scenes, I’ll jump around!

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

The writing part ;p Hahaha, no probably describing or basically anything that isn’t dialogue. If I could all my stories would be dialogue with as little anything else as possible! haha

13. Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

Hmmmm...probably de-aging? The stories where a character suddenly gets turned into a baby...I’ll read it but I probably wouldn’t ever write it!

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

This might get lengthy hahaha, but the first thing to come to mind is the 5th chapter of Heathens, where we finally get into Christine’s head for the first time and the reader begins to realize that things might not end happily ever after after all...so I might quote the whole chapter below! Italics is story, bold is my DVD commentary!

Her breath came out in a hiss.

How long had it been? Days? Months? Minutes?

The throbbing (this is a double meaning, the throbbing being her craving for blood and also her craving for Erik) continued, hidden deep within her. An awful, never ending sensation that followed her, haunted her through day and night. Or perhaps just night, for there was no day here in the cellar she was trapped in (not a blatant reference, but in Leroux’s novel, Erik controls the clocks in his house and I always wondered if he was changing the times to trick Christine into thinking time was passing slower/quicker depending on what he wanted and this Erik for sure would. Plus...vampires, darkness, night). Only night, only darkness, only thirst, only despair, only maddening need- (This Christine, and this chapter especially is full of purposeful repetition as if she’s collecting her thoughts and I really love the way that turned out!)

Only him.

That was the trouble of it all. It was not that she desired him, not that she loved him but that without him she could not survive; dependence was all she knew, the only familiar friend that kept her company in this underworld of horror.

She wanted to crush dependence like a bug beneath her foot. (Defeat the vampire patriarchy!)

She hated the dependence that he had forced upon her with this "new life", this "new chance" she had been gifted by him, she loathed the "freedom" she was offered by being forever held in a prison cell disguised as a house (this came from me wanting to start introducing the concept that she was actually miserable as a vampire vs. alot of vampire E/C fics or vampire fics in general where the person turned into the vampire just adapts to immortality beautifully and loves it and I think Christine is just too much of a sunshine person to ever be happy :/ especially in this AU since she actually didn’t know Erik before hand). She spat upon this life. Cursed, condemned and damned it in her mind until she broke down and prayed for forgiveness. Prayed for forgiveness from a God she wasn't sure was even listening to her desperate pleas anymore. Why would he? She was just as cursed, condemned, and damned as the creature she tried to pray away. (LOVE that last sentence, I love when I see the chance to flip the monster/man scenario on Christine since she can’t view it as an outsider anymore, she has to herself as the monster too. I touch on that in the last chapter to, but I really like this one because it includes the God convo because do vampires have souls? Do anyone? Christine is really doubting it now and she doesn’t like that she’s having to.)

It was then that she cried.

It was the strangest thing: she could cry. So many other human traits had been taken away but that one remained. Each tear burned, but she relished in the pain. At least the tears were her own, at least he didn't command when they fell, at least she could feel the pain they brought as she was made numb to so many other things. It was these times that he came to her and wrapped her in his arms, apologizing and shushing her gently on the floor of the cold stone that no longer felt cold compared to her skin. (The sad thing about this AU is that Erik really does love Christine, despite her very obviously hating him and I picture in these instances, he is really actually upset and caring for her but he doesn’t realize [yet anyway, he will by the end of the last chapter] that she feels like a songbird trapped in a gilded cage. Also the cold is a reference to the legend that vampires have unnaturally cold skin.)

Compared to her heart.

For a moment, she could almost fool herself that she was human and so was he. That there was genuine care between them and that she genuinely wanted comfort from her fears. For a moment, she could almost love him.

But almost love was far different from the real thing. (UGH Christine is under the impression that she is being manipulated which she is and she is very suspicious of any and all of his actions toward her, but a part of her feels drawn to him...)

He claimed to love her, but she knew this monster too well to be charmed and deceived by the false promises of love he offered her. (love this sentence!) She hadn't asked for this life, hadn't asked for him but here she was. Here they were. He told her he loved her every chance he saw: loved her voice, loved her hair, loved her eyes that now mirrored the shade of his own, loved her soft skin, loved the wetness that he coaxed from her, loved the scars he had left on the back of her throat...she could go on and on (this is in reference to Leroux’s Erik and how he spent a ton of times those 2 weeks he kidnapped her proclaiming his love!) She knew better. He was nothing more than a snake, poised and ready to strike.

Rattlesnake and songbird- she'd heard this tale before. (This was the first sentence I had planned for this chapter! I had just gotten into Hadestown and I realized that Hades and Eurydice in “Hey little Songbird” where Hades enticed Eurydice into the Underworld was such a good parellel and in the musical Hermes has a line about rattlesnake vs. songbird and I feel like Christine would’ve probably heard the Orpheus/Eurydice tale probably from Erik or maybe her father so I had to include it. This whole chapter blossomed from this sentence basically.)

But then he'd lean down and settle on the ground beside her, he'd cup his hand under her chin, and he'd raise her face to his-

Then she'd see his eyes. (Hypnotization! I decided the reason Erik used it so much was because he thought because of his ugliness, Christine would never stay on her own terms...and the reason Christine hasn’t tried it for herself is because she simply doesn’t know she can)

Those beautiful, awful, dangerous eyes.

And the world fell away.

She knew she shouldn't look at them. Shouldn't give way to temptation and lock stares with him, giving herself willingly over, but it was better then. She wasn't in control then, she was a lifeless doll that was docile and willing. She couldn't think when she was lost in his eyes, didn't have time to dwell on the ill-fated deck of cards life had dealt her. Instead, there was only life, only surrender, only pure bliss- (Here’s the mirrored repetition from earlier in the chapter!)

Only him.

It was like drawing a circle in the sand. (Lowkey hate this sentence, but i couldn’t think of anything better in the moment.)

She would look at him and believe every word he uttered.

Then he would kiss her, slowly and passionately just like a lover should, and she would hitch her leg over his hip as she let him lower her against the ground... (*Side Eye*)

Why couldn't she just hate him? (ah yes, the question of the century..., and also in reference to the scene in Leroux where she tells Raoul that she cannot hate Erik.)

Why after every lie and manipulation did she come back? Crawling after him like a drunkard in need of alcohol. Why did some part of her compel her to stay, what gene in her dared to act on its curious instincts? It wouldn't be so difficult to hate him if he didn't provide her with the solution to her throbbing, with the water for the flames that constantly raged inside her, grasping to be released (that whole sentence can be applied to both of her pressing *needs*). It was easy to pretend then as the creature took over and she wasn't in control of her actions and desires. It was quite simple to be content in those moments. (Here she is, trying to reason that she is just the victim, just the outsider and not the monster).

But that too ended.

And he would look away.

And the world would come crashing back down.

It was quite easy to hate him then.

The throbbing continued, beating between her legs in a battle against the burn of her throat. The two constant, consistent needs that only he could fill. (One of my FAVORITE sentences I have ever wrote!)

Only Erik... (and here’s the final reference to the “only” repetition theme Christine has had going on this whole chapter!)

Her eyes narrowed from her place in the doorway of his music room as she watched his fingers play out notes that she was positive had been tapped on the inner most parts of her. Music was perhaps the only wholesome thing she had left but he was in every note, his voice the most incredible thing she ever had the misfortune of hearing. (Another sentence I’m really proud of! Also this was actually the first paragraph I had written for this chapter and it just sat at the end of this document while I tried to fill in the middle!)

Christine wasn't sure of many things, but as her tongue traced over her blood-stained lips she was sure of one thing: she had to escape. (In my OG outline, the chapter actually kept going from here, but I decided that this had really nice punch to it and I left it alone! And I’m glad I did. I also like how it ties the whole chapter back to Earth as you realize Christine has had all these thoughts while shooting Erik daggers with her eyes in the doorframe.)

Well, hopefully you made it through all my ramblings! I feel like I could do this with the last chapter of Heathens to, but I made a whole video about that one! The password is heathens if anyone is interested in listening to me ramble hahaha

Thank you, @a-partofthenarrative!!

#not a ghost3 answers #heathens #poto

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tommyparkerr · 5 years

Text

Promises Part Two | Peter Parker x Reader

Sorry guys! I meant to update a bit earlier, but this past week has been crazy! Either way, I hope you enjoy Part Two! And once again, a big thank you to Soph for her help!:)

Note: I tried to space the paragraphs out some more for all you mobile users that got the new update (including me) so it’d make it easier to read. Let me know if it’s better or worse? I went back and did it to Part One as well.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst, crying :)

-Masterlist-

P A R T T W O :

Things between you and Peter had never been more tense. You hated it.

You never did talk the next morning, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that...

Peter was temporarily staying at Avengers Tower while you claimed stake to the apartment. Even though the walls weren’t exactly soundproof here and the New York City traffic consistently found its way in through the windows, it was too quiet—too dead. Usually Peter would be cooking or doing the laundry or washing the dishes, soft music playing in the background as he finished up and asked you to dance. The curtains would be drawn back, allowing the sun to light your apartment rather than the electricity. It would be comfortably warm, the natural breeze doing your air conditioner’s job. And Peter would be humming along, both of your faces adorning laughter and bright smiles that resulted from Peter playfully dipping you.

Instead your apartment was dark, dreary, and miserably cold. Though, the temperature could very well be because you were so used to Peter’s warmth that going without it now added an extra chill to the place. It didn’t feel right being there—living there—without him. But it also didn’t feel right to ask him to come home with so many things left unsaid. You were afraid asking him home would only make the both of you more miserable, and you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

Which was why you’d asked to meet him in a neutral location. A café—one you’d never been to in your life and that was bound to have no memories attached to it that would make this harder than it had to be.

You’d tried your best to look presentable, but making sure to eat and drink had been about the only things you had enough energy for lately. It was funny how heartbreak exhausted you, made you numb enough to forget the basics. But you had remembered to take a shower and brush your teeth this morning, and that was a victory in itself.

The brown liquid in front of you gently swirled, the scent wafting up and into your nostrils making your stomach turn. You didn’t know why you ordered coffee. You hated coffee.

But perhaps you’d forgotten that as well.

“Hey.”

Your eyes snapped up, seeing your husband for the first time in days. He didn’t look much better off than you. His normal sparkling brown eyes were now dull, the bags underneath making them look even more pitiful. His hands were shaking—just slightly, but you were trained to notice the small things, such as the lack of color to his skin and the chap of his lips. He looked like he’d lost weight as well; he’d probably forgotten to eat, or, at the very least, eat what his body required of him.

“Hey,” you said with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Peter eyed your drink.

“Is that...coffee?”

You fought the urge to blush. “I, uh, thought I’d try it again. Just in case my taste buds changed, you know.” His questioning look prompted you to go on. “They didn’t. I hate coffee.”

Peter smiled a small smile. It looked sad—like he knew you were lying but wasn’t going to point it out. “I know,” he settled on saying, making your heart ache. Of course he knew. He knew everything about you. “I’ll go get you some tea,” he eventually murmured, breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to-“

But he was already gone, traversing to the back of the line where only a few people waited in front of him. You sighed, fighting back tears. Is that how it was going to be now? Was this what your relationship had come to? After all these years?

The rational part of you reminded you that you had yet to talk anything out, that that was what this meeting was for, that you still had ice to break before you could start treading the freezing waters below. But there was a larger part of you that drowned that rationality out with the fears that plagued you every night and day.

“Here,” Peter said, sliding a hot cup of tea and blueberry scone in front of you. Your eyes pricked with tears at the scone; of course he got you your favorite. He was too good not to.

Peter took your coffee from you and drank slow sips from it. It was obvious he was waiting on you, but he didn’t push you to say anything. When you spoke it’d be on your own accord.

You began to nibble at the scone, not feeling very hungry but knowing you needed to eat regardless. You offered a piece to Peter who looked hesitant, then recognized it was a peace offering of sorts and took it.

The silence droned on, and you knew he expected you to be the one to start up conversation, but you couldn’t bring your mouth to open. You weren’t ready to dig out the demons yet, to bring them to light. You didn’t want him to know how much his actions had affected you, even though it was plainly visible in your appearance. There were times late at night when you wondered if you were overreacting, but then you’d remember just how badly he’d hurt you and knew you were doing what was right for you. This hurt, yes, but there were only so many things you could sweep under the rug. And, besides, this wasn’t permanent—this was only temporary.

At least, you hoped.

Your hands shook. You tried to cover it up by taking a sip of tea but your plan backfired when the liquid sloshed over the side, spilling onto your fingers. You hissed at the burn catching Peter’s attention, and he immediately grabbed a napkin to give to you. His eyes were wide with concern, making yours water up.

“Y/N-“

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the crack in your voice said otherwise. You looked down and dabbed at the scalding tea on your skin, biting your lip at the sting it left behind. Tears started to fall.

“Let me look at it,” Peter pleaded, staring at the abnormal redness on your fingers. Without waiting for a response he pulled your hand across the table and turned it over, carefully tracing the splotches of red. “Does it hurt?”

At your silence he looked up, finally seeing your tears. Concern quickly turned into panic.

“Yes,” you choked out, and from the look on Peter’s face you knew that he was aware you weren’t talking about your fingers. “It hurts so bad and I don’t know how to fix it,” you quietly cried. “I don’t- I can’t-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter said calmly, expertly sliding out of his side of the booth and into yours. His arms wrapped around you, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder. You slid your hands under his jacket and around his waist, letting your tears soak his shirt. He swallowed, probably just as prepared to cry as you but not allowing his tears to fall; one of you had to keep it together for the sake of the other, and you were extremely grateful Peter was volunteering to take that role on this morning. “We’ll fix it, Y/N. I promise we’ll fix this.”

“How?” you croaked, your voice muffled by his clothes.

“Together,” he said confidently. “We’ll do this together, just like we always do.”

You sniffled, hugging him tighter. He responded, pulling you close enough to feel the warmth you’d been longing for. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I promise.”

---

Coffee had become a part of your daily routine now. Only part of a cup, but it was still there nonetheless. It seemed to be the only thing that woke you up enough to make it through the day. Energy drinks you supposed could work too but they had always had negative effects on you, and you knew that now would be a worse time than ever to try them again. And while you still hated coffee, you didn’t hate the extra boost of caffeine it gave you.

Nightmares had been plaguing your dreams, waking you at least once a night if not more. You so badly wanted to call into work sick, but you’d just taken a week off for vacation and knew you couldn’t miss again so soon—not unless you didn’t want to keep your job. So coffee had been the only solution, the caffeine intake in tea not being enough to keep you from sleepwalking through the day.

You wondered what Peter would say about your new obsession if he knew. He probably wouldn’t say anything much—maybe a playful comment or two. He’d most likely just smirk at you from his own cup of coffee, his eyes alight with mischief. But he’d brew an extra cup each morning anyways, making sure it was ready by the time you walked into the kitchen, hair still frizzy from sleep and T-shirt hanging lazily off your shoulder. He’d tell you good morning and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, handing you your cup only after you responded with an unhappy but grateful ‘good morning’ as well.

You stopped yourself there, shaking your head to rid the image. Because the truth was that if Peter was here, actually here, then you wouldn’t be drinking coffee at all. If he was here he’d be there to hold you through the nightmares that somehow made themselves less frequent when he was around. If he was here he’d ensure you were both in bed by nine o’clock on nights neither of you were working, knowing you required extra sleep. Sometimes if you were both wide awake you’d talk about nothing and everything until eventually your voices faded and all that was left was your gentle breathing. If he was here.

But he wasn’t. He was on the other side of the city in a room tens of floors higher than yours, surrounded by handfuls of people yet feeling just as alone as you were.

No, Peter wasn’t here. But his memory was everywhere, leaving you to wonder if this was what it’d be like if his absence turned permanent instead of temporary—that instead of being just a few miles away, he’d be in a place that even the mightiest of superheroes couldn’t reach.

You prayed you’d never find out.

---

“Peter!” you cried out as you snapped awake, your hand immediately flying to the other side of the bed in search of the curly haired arachnid. You caught yourself a moment later, snatching back your hand as if the empty sheets had burned you.

Nine days.

Nine days you’d woken from a nightmare and subconsciously looked for your husband. Nine days you’d searched for Peter in the middle of the night only to remember moments later that he wasn’t there. Nine days it’d shattered your heart. Nine days it hurt just as badly as the one before. Nine days it’d been since you’d gotten a full night’s rest.

Not bothering to try to hold back the tears, you got up out of bed and threw on one of Peter’s hoodies to keep you company. However, even that didn’t seem to help anymore; his scent was growing fainter by the day and it was so diluted now that it no longer comforted you when you slipped it on. But you still put it on each night in the hopes that something would change, much like how your hand reached to the other side of the bed after every nightmare and found nothing, yet continued to do it anyway.

You numbly traipsed into the kitchen, starting up the kettle and robotically preparing the cup of tea you’d had to make yourself each night since...well, since Peter had been gone.

Nine days.

You leaned over the counter and placed your head in your hands, letting a rack of sobs escape you. You didn’t know how much longer you could take this, but you were afraid that once you sat down and attempted to work things out Peter would leave you forever, and you’d much prefer be in the place you were now in your relationship rather than not in one at all.

“Y/N?” a soft, tired voice croaked, sounding as if it hadn’t been used in days. Either that, or used too much.

Your cries came to a stop but you didn’t move an inch. Neither of you spoke for awhile, not even when the kettle started whistling. Eventually you straightened up and turned the burner off, listening as the high-pitched squeal slowly became less and less obnoxious until it had disappeared completely.

“Would you like a cup?” you quietly asked, your voice raw from the many tears you’ve shed.

“What is it?” Peter hesitantly questioned.

“Tea—chamomile.”

“Yes, please.”

So you grabbed two cups instead of one, calmly choosing to ignore the elephant in the room as you poured a generous amount of steaming water in each. From there you put the tea bags in, watching them as they steeped.

“Y/N-“

“Not now, Pete,” you interrupted tiredly, knowing where his mouth was going to take him next. “Please not now.”

He kept quiet.

When the tea was finally done you picked up the cups and carefully handed one to Peter before going to the dining room table and plopping yourself down on a chair. He followed, sitting in the spot next to you. You quietly busied yourselves with your tea until there was none left, cueing the inevitable conversation.

You cleared your throat. “How did you get in?”

“I still have a key,” Peter answered, sounding slightly hurt but not surprised. “I guess I assumed I could still use it.”

“You can,” you quickly responded, realizing that that had sounded like a much better question in your head. Way to break the ice, Y/N. “I mean, just because you aren’t currently living here doesn’t mean it’s not still your home.”

You looked up for the first time, seeing Peter silently nod as he stared down at his empty tea cup, lost. Your heart fissured at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes—he’d been crying, too.

Before you could think about it your hand was on top of Peter’s, your thumb slowly running across his knuckles in what could only be described as an attempt at comfort. It was so difficult to see him like this—so vulnerable and beaten down—and right at that very moment you decided you no longer cared about ‘breaking the ice’.

“Why did you come here, Peter?” you whispered past the lump in your throat.

His lip wobbled. “I-I can’t close my eyes without dreaming bad things. It’s making me go insane. You’re the only one that helps, but you’re not there. You’re never there, and I know why you can’t be, but I can’t take being alone anymore and I just—I just—” He paused, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Finally looking up at you, his eyes equally pleading and hopeful and afraid, he confessed, “I just need you.”

After that his shoulders began to shake and his eyes squeezed shut, obviously not wanting to see the rejection in your face. But, if only he looked, he’d see that there was nothing but pain and longing and understanding there.

You flew up out of your chair and stood in front of Peter, bringing his head to rest on your stomach as your hands rubbed his back and ran through his tangled curls. He wrapped his arms around you tight, bringing you closer to him as he cried.

“I miss you,” he sobbed, his voice muffled by your clothing yet completely clear to you.

You held back your own tears now. Peter had already taken his turn being the strong one; it was time for you to return the favor. “We’ll fix this,” you said much more confidently than you felt. “Just like you said, Pete.”

He spent another few minutes holding you close as he soaked your shirt—well, technically it was his shirt—with his tears. He said something again, this time so muffled that you couldn’t hear him at all.

“You’re gonna have to speak up a bit, baby,” you said soothingly, realizing your term of endearment too late.

But Peter didn’t bring it up. He simply moved his head just enough to free his mouth and repeated in a quiet, careful tone, “You promise?”

Your heart thumped extra hard then skipped a couple beats as you answered without hesitation. “I promise.”

He started to calm down after that, his sniffles being the only sound in the sad, sad apartment. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, brushing back his hair as you did so.

“Do you get them too?” Peter whispered in the silence.

“Get what?” you asked, though you had a good idea of what he was referring to.

“Nightmares?”

You swallowed, pushing down the temptation to lie. Nightmares were for children, not adults like you. Yet here you were ten years later, having the worst nightmares you’d had in your entire life: nightmares about Peter dying, nightmares about Peter leaving, nightmares about Peter telling you this was all your fault, nightmares about Peter finding someone better to take your place, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

“Every night,” you breathed.

Peter’s breath caught as he pulled away from your embrace and looked you in the eye. “They’re never as bad when I’m with you,” he said plainly—obviously.

“And mine are never as bad when you’re with me,” you admitted. You both seemed to come to the same conclusion in that moment. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” you spoke up quietly, and you could practically see the relief flashing through Peter’s eyes.

He nodded, taking your hand and walking with you back to the bedroom. Neither of you spoke as you crawled into bed and snuggled close to one another, soaking up the warmth you’d been so desperately craving. Peter wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, holding you as tight as he possibly could without breaking you. You dipped your head into the crook of his neck and placed a hand over his heart, allowing your mind to finally take a break at the feel of its steady beating.

“I still love you more than anything,” you murmured, feeling as if it needed to be said.

“And I swear I still love you more,” Peter responded with a kiss to your head, making you smile for the first time in a long time.

You allowed some hope to come back now. The hope that maybe not all was lost—that this relationship could still be salvaged. And the hope that, more than anything, you’d be able to forge something better out of it.

You promise?

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut and his breaths were evening out, his heart rate slowing with them. Your eyes closed too, your heart beating to match Peter’s.

I promise.

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fly-pow-bye · 5 years

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DuckTales 2017 - “The Golden Armory of Cornelius Coot!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Storyboard by: Stephanie Gonzaga, Vaughn Tada, Brandon Warren

Directed by: Matthew Humphreys

This episode certainly isn't cor...no, that joke would be too cor...no, not doing that one either.

The episode begins in Fort Duckberg, where Miss Quackfaster talks about the about the founder of Duckberg. Protecting Fort Duckberg from the Beagle militia, he was like a ghost. He was everywhere at once; musket fire could be heard from every direction. This alone scared off the Beagles. This was all commemorated with his statue, where he is holding a musket and a saber, standing on top of his enemies. A very different interpretation of the statue I remember, and that's all I will say.

In the present time, the Fort will host a celebration, where Della Duck, who is outright said to be Coot's descendant, is going to skywrite the letter "C". According to Huey, Scrooge charges by the letter. This is not the only way Scrooge shows his penny-pinching ways; Miss Quackfaster is the only person he hired, as she also has to be the innkeeper for the snack bar while wearing a fake moustache. That snack bar, keeping with this being essentially a Renaissance Fair, consists solely of "traditional victuals" from the era: saltwater jerky and raw buttermilk. They get a lot of mileage from the latter.

We get some of the other "kids being bored at the Renaissance Fair" tropes, such as Dewey trying to find fun in churning butter, and Louie outright calling this the worst thing ever. Even Huey complains about it, but, since he's the smart guy, he's only disappointed in the lack of authenticity with the hats. Webby gives an idea to find entertainment in this place: by solving a mystery even their legendary mother couldn't solve. That mystery? The titular Golden Armory of Cornelius Coot. She knows this because she has her journal. They don't ask how she got it, but I'm sure stealing Della's journal is normal for her.

Overhearing all of this are the Beagle Boys, attempting to get their vengeance for their scared-off ancestors. All of the Beagle Boys and their Ma want to reclaim that treasure that should be in their hands. With that treasure, they can reclaim the fort and call it Fort Beagleburg! While Burger and Bouncer are here, there is one guy that's missing.

What happened to Big Time Beagle? Big Time Beagle ran all the way from the junkyard to find out, and Ma Beagle tells him the Beagle Boys need to go in a different direction. Big Time doesn't get it; even after being told that he's no longer a member, he assumes she meant he's more of a leader than a member.

Speaking of people not known for figuring things out, we got a B plot with Launchpad. This B plot continues yet another thread in the Della storyline, one that hasn't really been touched upon since "Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!". In that episode, Della finds out that Launchpad replaced her in her absence, and she's none too happy to find her once her's Cloudslayer in the hands of a doofus, not that one, that constantly crashes planes. In this episode, she gets to see the plane she was supposed to fly over Fort Duckberg in shambles, and Launchpad promises to fix it in no time. One scene later:

Launchpad: (looking at the fixed plane) I did it!

(lowers photo of the fixed plane)

Launchpad: See, I found a photo of what the plane is supposed to look like, so we can piece it together.

I liked that gag from the Simpsons. To be fair, the Simpsons did everything. Even real life occasionally copies it, but that's a story for another time.

As expected, Della is not a big fan of Launchpad's way of flying. One of the major stick-ups, a stick-up that ends up being pretty literal, is that instead of using any regular way to fix various items, Launchpad, the wacky pilot just uses chewed up gum. Della, the recently-went-down-to-Earth pilot, comes in and fixes it the proper way. Della even questions if he even knows anything about planes at all, and Launchpad comforts her with:

Launchpad: When it comes to planes, everyone knows their own way.

Della: (looks at the "engine") Is that a hamster wheel?

Yes, it rotates the spinny-thingy! Launchpad's term, of course.

Back at Fort Duckberg, Huey distracts any other employees that aren't occupied with dealing with the Beagle Boys with a "historians at work" sign, which don't seem to exist. This is so the kids can try to figure out the riddle of finding the treasure "beneath the legend."

They find out that the sign on the statue hides a hidden passageway, going beneath the legendary statue. Big Time sees this as he's waiting for his buttermilk to pour out, see, they do get a lot of mileage out of that, and decides to go after them himself without telling his Ma. If Ma Beagle doesn't want him to be a Beagle Boy, he's got to make a name for himself.

In what Louie deems "their tomb" at the beginning of the scene, the kids start looking through the underground cavern, aided by Webby's smartphone light. Louie feels a shovel on the wall, which Webby thinks is meant to be an arrow, leading to a wall made up of peet moss.

At least, she claims it must be peet moss, but after falling through it, Huey decides to lick it and note that it tastes nothing like it. Both this episode and "The Depths of Cousin Fethry!" have one of the same writers and director; I guess having Huey lick gross things for science is their thing. What could it be? Let’s let Dewey’s eyes give us a hint...

GYAAH! SPIDERS!

...that becomes as much of a gag as the buttermilk.

Distracting us from those spiders and any question of how healthy drinking raw buttermilk could be, we go back to Della deciding that Launchpad shouldn't be anywhere near her plane. Let's just say it is not just because the paint is still drying; she outright tells him he's a bad pilot.

Initially sad about this revelation he was apparently never told, he realizes there's only one thing he can do. No, not retire and let Della do all the flying from now on, as much as Della seems to want that, but become Della's co-pilot so he can learn from the best!

Della: How do I say "yes" without agreeing to this?

Della couldn't figure that one out, as the recently repaired Sun/Cloud Chaser/Slayer goes airborne once again, with Della as the pilot and Launchpad as the guy who is told to look to the sky to see if the plane is still flying.

Going back to the underground cavern of the legendary Coot, okay, maybe that may need to be reworded, Webby continues her journey. Huey, Dewey, and Louie are starting to see this as less of a "fun adventure" and more of a "dangerous obsession that will kill them all". After finding another thing that is totally an arrow and not just another shovel, she bumps into a pair of mine carts. She specifically calls to Dewey's sense of wanting to endanger himself to get him to jump in.

This doesn't get the other two to jump in, but another person shows up: Big Time Beagle, running away from the spiders and landing himself right into the other mine cart. Webby uses this opportunity to say that this must be the Beagle Boys chasing after their treasure, and this convinces the other two to go down this epic rail chase!

A not very well designed one, as they both get stuck between two inclines. It turns out that the mine cart wasn't anywhere near as exciting as Dewey hoped it would be. This does lead to a rather entertaining scene where both the siblings and Big Time push their carts up the hill. It's not even necessary; even if they use those carts to carry back all of that treasure, they're just going to be stuck with it for the rest of the journey! But, in their logic, they both need a good mine cart chase in this adventure.

The Launchpad and Della plot pretty much go in the way one might expect. Launchpad does something foolish, Della yells at him for it. For example, while Della is teaching him about the different meters on the plane, Launchpad talks about the Point-O-Meter and talks about his high score on it. Guess the joke.

Eventually, she just yells at him to just sit in the corner, because nothing he does could be right. As much as Della may seem to have a point, I can't help but feel sorry for Launchpad here. I just knew he would eventually be vindicated.

Huey finds the blueprints, and this whole room is just a room meant for storing corn. In other words, in Webby's quest that in no way is a way for her to measure up to the original lady adventurer of Clan McDuck. She certainly doesn't make that obvious with lines like this:

Webby: We'll be as incredible as she is...er, Coot was!

While Webby has been mostly proven wrong throughout this adventure, even with minor things like assuming Big Time got stuck in a spider-infested tunnel as the camera pans to a blocked off section, there is one thing she was right about: there is something more to this. How did Cornelius Coot save Fort McDuck if he was just an ordinary farmer?

She doesn't get the time to ponder on that, as the rest of the Beagle Boys and Ma Beagle show up. Apparently, they followed Big Time's trail, even though they were explicitly never told about this. I would argue that since there wasn't much else to do in Fort McDuck other than eat some saltwater jerky, I could see them getting distracted by that hole in the statue.

Back on the plane, it's time for that aforementioned vindication. Well, kind of, it does feel a bit forced. As she turns on the smoke for skywriting that one letter, the plane starts to fill with smoke. Launchpad tells Della that gum was better to block the vents instead of actual vents, but what does he know?

Eventually, the plots are going to converge, or in this case, crash into each other...

...because crashing is what Launchpad does best! Della, after marveling at how this crash almost got them killed, and somehow did not, sees the Beagle Boys and begins to fight them. In the boy's eyes, she becomes the hero by accident in more ways than one!

While Webby and Della escape, the Beagle Boys get a surprise of their own: the entirely unrelated Beagle shows up now with a new Ma. One that has many more legs than usual!

Big Time Beagle became Bug Time Beagle, complete with his own Spider Ma. With the power of that spider's spinneret, he traps his former family and his former family's enemies in the spider webs.

That's mostly it; Big Time, er, Bug Time's spider-beagle shtick doesn't really go anywhere. At most, it's just the payoff to the spider gag. While DuckTales 2017 is not afraid to lose the status quo, this is not one of those times, as he gets his job back right at the end of the episode.

After bonding with Dewey and Huey, Della gets to bond with someone who isn't even related to her in this episode. Webby places a candle that lit the way after her phone ran out of batteries on a table, and talks to. She tries to comfort her by saying that she got further than anyone else. That candle ends up revealing something, as it lights a nearby string.

While I won't spoil it, I will say that the revelation that comes after this scene is pretty neat to see. It's also a reference to the original comics, as DuckTales 2017 loves to do. Since Coot is shown to be a distant relative to Della, and therefore a distant relative to Scrooge McDuck, it shows that the McDuck's way of defeating their enemies with wit runs in the blood.

In the end, legends are rewritten, the fort gets more people to visit it, and while she never got to make that "C", Della just seems to just begrudgingly accept Launchpad's incredible luck of not dying due to his silliness. Yeah, that B plot just kind of ends with that.

As for the Beagle Boys, as said before, Big Time gets his job back. Considering the alternative, Ma Beagle had no other choice.

How does it stack up?

Despite some plots that I felt went nowhere, I did enjoy this episode enough to not give it a Neutral. The B plot was certainly what I expected out of a Della and Launchpad team-up, though I do wish it had a better ending. All in all, a good episode.

Next, the beginning of a sort of tetralogy, all leading up to the Moonvasion!

← A Nightmare On Killmotor Hill! 🦆 TimePhoon! →

#fpb dt 2017 #fpb reviews #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #disney

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thisbiasedlife · 5 years

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A New Livelihood (Werewolf! Jimin x Werewolf! Reader) Chapter 5

Note: Hello everyone! I am back after, well, a pretty long time. A lot of things have happened, I’ve lost people, I’ve been navigating college, and I’ve just been trying to bring it all together. In honor of the new year, a new chapter! Here’s to hoping that 2019 treats us all very well and I can keep some consistent updates going for this story, Firewall Down, and maybe even get out some other stories that I’ve thought up. Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Some Fluff, a lot of Angst

Rating: This one is pretty PG, maybe PG-13

Warnings: None

Characters: Aera (Reader), BTS, and Jung (Reader’s brother; only mentioned here), and Castor (read to find out)

Word Count: 3,837 words

Summary: Aera (or really Y/N) belongs to a pack of more traditional werewolf values led by her brother, Jung (or really Y/B/N). The very brother that murdered their parents in cold blood solely for the purpose of ascending to the position of Alpha. With her tyrant brother in control, Aera (or Y/N) is forced into a mating ritual with a rival pack in order to cement their alliance with her own pack. Things take a turn for confusing when this forced ceremony turns out to be far from forced. Aera (Y/N) must learn to adapt to an entirely different lifestyle, one that stands in drastic contrast from her own, while simultaneously navigating the confusing and passionate nature that is the mating bond.

Regret didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I had distanced myself and made myself vulnerable all because of my own vanity. I hadn't known they'd be prowling these woods. If I had been paying more attention like I should have, I would have noticed the shifting scents carried by the wind. The ominous and unwelcoming auras exuded by each of them. Rogues, but I had noticed them too late.

A wolf crashed into me from my right side, pinning me to the ground. It took me by great surprise. I struggled against its grip as its scent consumed the air around me. Not just any old rogue, a rogue from a pack rival to my old one.

"Hey there pretty lady," his voice rang in my head rather than aloud, the only way werewolves could communicate outside of howls when in their wolf forms. I realized very quickly that I had run into just a little bit more than your average bad luck. I was completely drained of energy. I had no energy to shift into my wolf form to protect myself from this rogue and it would be impossible to adequately protect myself in my human form.

"Scared little one? Do you remember me?" the wolf projected into my head. Shit, I was projecting pheromones. If he could smell them, then surely the pack would be here soon? Even so, the fact that I was projecting fear pheromones gave away at least a little of my vulnerability. Then, a second wave of fear hit me as I finally placed the voice.

"Castor?!" I exclaimed aloud. The wolf snarled. "The one and only," rang in my head. As if the situation wasn't already bad enough, this complicated matters further. I had had a hand in killing every single one of Castor's family members at the orders of my brother. Hell, I'd been forced to lead the charge. Even though I was consistently about self-preservation, I could not blame this man for taking my life even if he drug it out. I'd tortured his family before I'd killed them for the sake of appearing fierce and strong in front of a pack that constantly questioned if I was strong enough to walk among them.

"You aren't fighting back. You had way more spunk than this when you killed my family," he projected bending his wolven face down to my very human one. He sniffed the air around me and his eyes temporarily flashed blue. "I see. You've gone and gotten claimed. This scent that's all over you is different from your original pack though. Did your brother finally write you off for the shrimp that you are?" he joked amusedly. I was scared. I was angry. But, I probably deserved this and more. My heinous acts had come back to haunt me. If I were him, I would have already killed me. I was grateful that at the very least Bangtan couldn't hear Castor's projections. It was a closed conversation between he and I taking place, for the most part, within my conscious.

I knew I shouldn't cave to my anger, but I was fairly certain that this was actually the end. It was fitting. Castor would rip my head off before Bangtan even got here. It's not like he lacked justification. If I was to die this way, I was going to speak my mind before my head was ripped off.

"Shrimp? I remember being strong enough to kill your entire family without breaking a sweat. Right after they told me everything that I needed to know. As I recall, I played a part in leaving your pack in ruins," I goaded him within my conscious. If he was going to kill me, I wanted him to hurry up with it. I could not fight back and I was tired of being at his mercy. "You bitch," he seemed to try to growl out before opening his mouth and chomping down on my right shoulder. I screamed out in pain just as my new pack arrived all in wolf form.

I could recognize only Namjoon and Jimin. Namjoon because his eyes glowed red even in wolf form. Jimin because he lunged at the wolf on top of me before Namjoon could give any orders. I lay there bleeding, every bone in my body screaming that I needed to get up and help Jimin. I would never forgive myself if he died protecting me from my own sins. Castor did not fight cleanly and Jimin would certainly have to fight dirty to win.

I could not lift myself even an inch from the ground and tears fell from my eyes in my immense frustration. A wolf stood over me again. The eyes of this one appeared far kinder. "It's going to be okay. We've got you," Jin's voice projected into the consciousness of the entire pack, but specifically directed at me. I was lifted from the ground as another of the pack members worked their muzzle in between me and the ground and carefully lifted me onto Jin's back. I cried out in pain again. "No! I can't leave Jimin," I cried out into the woods unable to project anymore. "Don't worry. Taehyung and Jungkook flew into the fight. That wolf doesn't have much longer. Let Jin, J-Hope, and myself take you back to the house while Namjoon and the others wrap up here," Yoongi commanded eliciting the authority of the Beta. I had no choice but to accept his command as I slowly lost consciousness from the gaping wound of my shoulder.

I woke to immense pain. I was lying in Jimin's bed. I tried turning my head only to find that it shot pain down into my shoulder. With the limited range of rotation of my neck, I looked around the room to see if Jimin was anywhere in sight. I couldn't tell so opted to sniff out the room to see if I could detect his scent. I turned up short save for some traces indicating he'd been in the room maybe about an hour ago. I was alone in the room. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Another sniff of the air indicated that all seven of the boys must have been somewhere downstairs. The smells were faint but seemed to congregate there. I felt the need to check on them because my mistake had caused all this. Although, I remained conflicted on the prospect of going down to see all of them. If any of them were hurt, I knew I would blame myself for being negligent. I didn't deserve them coming to my aid like that. They were more than I deserved. Maybe, all this time, my brother had been right about who I was. Useless scum that only brought despair. Did I have the capacity to be good? To do good? How could I when I had been the reason my own mother died?

I sat up in the bed, despite the pain that wracked through me. I turned my head quickly, ripping the bandaid off as they say, to look at the shoulder that Castor had mercilessly bitten into. The straps of the tank top and sports bra I had been wearing were torn away for access to the shoulder, like someone had been drastically, frantically trying to get there. I felt naked in some way as it hung limply under my arm. The shoulder was heavily bandaged with the bandages looking as if they hadn't been replaced all that long ago. Not a spot of blood visible among the white. Had it been Jimin?

"I thought I smelt some stress hormones. Feeling better?" I heard Namjoon speak from the threshold of the door. My eyes shot up to meet his as I quickly covered myself with the sheets I had been laying under. I heard Namjoon chuckle a little to himself, but other than that, he didn't seem to react at all. I took in the sight before me only for it to become quickly apparent that Namjoon didn't have a scratch on him. I let out a small sigh. 1 out of 4 was okay. Maybe I wouldn't have to live with knowing that I had hurt people that had accepted me when I had nothing.

"How is Jimin? Taehyung? Jungkook?" I asked my voice just barely above a whisper. Namjoon heard me, undoubtedly as being a werewolf tended to mean that you heard everything. He remained silent for a few moments before speaking. "They're fine. Jimin got the worst of it and that was just a couple cuts and bruises. The man really just can't control his anger. We always joke that he's the scariest when angry because he's usually pretty soft in how he treats others. I can't say the same for your attack-happy friend. He's dead and got to see the worst sides of Jimin," Namjoon answered as he continued to casually lean on the door frame.

I let out a loud sign of relief. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. "Where is he?" I asked worried he might be angry at me and not want to see me. I wanted to apologize to him for being so careless, for getting him hurt.

"He was with you almost the entire time you were unconscious. For 24 hours, he wouldn't leave your side. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't drink, he wouldn't sleep. He just worried, and worried, and worried. He wouldn't let anyone else in here. Wouldn't let anyone else change your bandages after Jin got done working his magic on your shoulder. Paced back and forth until I thought he was going to wear a hole into the floor. So, I ordered him to come downstairs and stay there until I told him he could come back up. It's one of the only times he's ever tried to disobey a direct order," Namjoon answered.

My heart broke for Jimin. I had been out 24 hours?! How could I let myself put him through that? "Listen, I can hear what you're thinking. No matter how you roll the dice, this isn't your fault. Jungkook told me you could block mind reading and control projecting, but, thankfully for me, you seem too shocked to be doing that right now," he spoke into the silence.

What bothered me about that bit of information wasn't that Namjoon had been reading my mind. I was troubled that he'd been honest about it, forthcoming with the details. "I'll go down and tell him you're awake and that he can come back up," he said as he fixed himself upright where he'd been leaning on the doorframe. As he turned to go, he spoke again, "I'm really glad you're okay and all. Don't ever scare us like that again. That's an order," he said with his back to me as he walked away from the room and downstairs. The pull of the alpha wasn't there, but somehow that made it only that much more impossible for me not to follow it. The authority of that command was from somewhere beyond an alpha. It came from something different, something foreign to me. Something I couldn't quite place.

I heard heavy footsteps as someone quickly bounded up the stairs. Jimin came rushing into the room, stopping abruptly at the door frame, where Namjoon had been just seconds earlier. He paused taking in my frame. Tears began to form in his eyes. "You're okay," he breathed out in relief as he finally crossed the rest of the distance between us. He took me into his arms not all that gently. I mean, he tried, but his eagerness won out. I tried to fight a yelp of pain, but it erupted from me despite my efforts. He threw his body from me in an instant, very clearly not in favor of hurting me in the slightest.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized looking like a kicked puppy. "I was just so glad to see your beautiful eyes again. The guys say I'm dramatic for this, but I really thought I wouldn't ever see them again. You lost so much blood. Jin had to work on that shoulder with all manner of instruments for a long time. He kept talking about a lot of muscle and tissue damage and I--" he rambled on in his excitement before I cut him off by calling his name very loudly.

"Jimin! I'm okay. Just a little banged up," I assured him. He closed his mouth and nodded approaching me on the bed again. He bent down to me and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes and let myself take in the incredibly comforting nature of this action. As much as I wanted to stay like this until the literal end of time, I needed to check up on him. It took all of my will to shift in a way that wouldn't cause me too much pain, but would also relay to him that, as much as I hadn't wanted it to, the moment had passed.

"Jimin, are you okay?" I asked him as he rose to his full height. "Yeah. I'm okay. Werewolf healing and all," he said with a smile. Even so, I looked him over to find that he, indeed, had not a single mark left on him from his encounter with Castor. For the second time since being awake, I let out a breath that I hadn’t known I’d been holding in.

“I can’t say the same for your friend though. No amount of healing is going to save the shreds I left his corpse in,” Jimin remarked through gritted teeth, his eyes temporarily flashing blue. Such a feral color that blue. For just a second, I saw the less kinder side of Jimin. The anger, the hate. It was enough to make me shiver despite the wave of pain it sent through my injured body.

“So, what’s with the slower healing? It still feels like there is a gaping hole in my shoulder,” I asked Jimin, who had just been pulled from his feral stare at the sound of my voice. “That puzzled Jin for a little. Namjoon was the one that finally figured it out. You know how even among werewolves, there are those of us that have special abilities? Like you’re able to block mind reading and control projection,” Jimin answered.

I went rigid for a second at his outright acknowledgement of my abilities. “Namjoon told everyone. He even mentioned that he was pretty sure you have a few other abilities you haven’t mentioned to us just yet either. Something about ‘adversity bringing certain characteristics out of people and you having encountered a lot of it’. Don’t worry though. You’ll have time to tell us at your own pace. Just like you’ll have time to tell us why that guy was trying to kill you,” Jimin said leaning himself up against the same doorway Namjoon had just been propped up against not long ago. I suppressed a giggle. They truly were a pack, not just in name.

“Anyway, apparently Jin found some sort of weird venom in the guy’s saliva that reduces our healing rate pretty significantly. He was able to get a lot of it out of your shoulder, but admitted that he wasn’t able to totally get it all out. He guesses it’ll be about a week before you’re good to go, back to your usual self. About two times what it would usually take for this kind of injury,” Jimin continued, finally answering my original question.

“Just my luck, huh?” I started. Jimin nodded in response. He very clearly wasn’t happy with this new situation I had found myself in, but who would be? Especially when he knew nothing about why it had happened. Most of me felt that he had every reason to know about Castor and the horrible things that I had done. Still, a little, selfish part of me never wanted to Jimin to hear about any of the pain that I had inflicted on others. He accepted me so openly now, why give him a reason to reject me? If this pack threw me out on my ass, and they very well could as mating played a lesser role to the safety of the whole pack, I would have nowhere to go. Castor was only one of many and my old pack was not exactly fond of me either. I would be an Omega. A lone wolf without a place to call home. I had heard a very famous saying from a popular TV show in recent years: “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives”. A very solid truth in its own right, even if it was of human media. Still, the “angel” on my shoulder continued to nag. I could have no internal peace if I didn’t say something. Only internal guilt. I had been through a lot in my life. Relative isolation had been most of my life after my mother had passed, would it really be all that different being truly physically, mentally, and emotionally alone? Hiding the truth was already making me feel mentally and emotionally isolated as it were.

“Jimin,” I spoke out into the silence which the room had fallen into. “Hmm?” he answered with a low groan of his throat. “That wolf, I-I…..I killed his family on the orders of my brother,” I said as my head sunk into my hands. I could not believe that I had felt compelled to tell the truth. What had come over me?! Never had I admitted out loud the horrors that I felt guiltiest for. Yet, the thought of Jimin being in the dark about it bothered me more than the admission of my guilt.

Jimin remained poised despite the shocking confession. The only indication I had that he had heard me was the slight nod of his head. “I figured as much. He was quite angry and mentioned something about you taking everything from him. May I ask why?” Jimin questioned. “My brother saw Castor’s pack as a big threat. He’s pretty into power plays. It was such a power play to him to do every unimaginable thing to Castor’s family all while Castor had to watch helplessly. The entire while, I suggested that we just kill Castor. He was the threat. Why involve anyone else? My brother insisted that I was only to remain a strong member within the pack if I could prove my allegiance by “handling such a matter”. He told me what pain to inflict and how far to take it and I had to listen. I had to listen or lose my place in literally the only family that I had ever known, no matter how fucked up it was,” I answered Jimin somewhat longwindedly.

Torturing Castor’s family had not been of my own creation. The creative ways in which I was made to cause them pain were not of my creation, but I was the ugly vehicle by which they were administered. Just that was enough to write me off forever as a moral-lacking, sociopathic, cold-blooded killer, completely unworthy of redemption.

“We all do unspeakable things to preserve ourselves. The supernatural world is a pretty cruel one, no matter how much human movies and television like to think it dark and sexy. There is one quote that I am rather fond of when I think about some of the bad that I have had to commit: ‘Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things’. Did you want to do what you did?” Jimin asked earnestly. “No,” I answered honestly. “Then, you were being the you that you needed to be to survive. I don’t think that’s the real you and I’m not going to judge you for it. We all have a past that we wanna slay. I like to think I’m more forward-looking,” Jimin finished with a smile.

A smile crossed my face as a warmth seemed to take over me. He accepted me, with all of my demons. He accepted me with all of my heavy baggage. He accepted the darkest parts of me. I felt so indebted to him, but I was sure that if I said anything along those lines, he would say that he was only doing his duty as my mate. Not true. He could abandon me, leave me and my horrible past to fend for ourselves. There was a procedure for breaking the bond, painful to only the one that did not desire it broken. Yet, I could confidently say that the thought had not once crossed his mind. I knew Jimin would not tell the others and I did not want to have to explain it a second time, so I had broadcasted all of my end of the conversation to the others via the mind connection of the pack. Now, they all knew. Would it change my relationships with the rest of the pack? Especially given that they had not been made privy to Jimin’s response? What would Namjoon say? Would he let me stay? What would happen to the progress I had made in my growing friendship with Jungkook and Taehyung? The only way that I could figure out the answer to all these questions would be to take my injured frame downstairs to meet with the rest of my pack. After all, I could only call them my pack if they knew that I was ready and willing to be one-hundred percent honest with them and let them in.

“Jimin?” I spoke, again breaking the silence of the room. “Could you help me downstairs?” I asked him, my voice full of a certain resolve. “Sure, but only if you give me a kiss first,” he said with a flirtatious smirk. A small giggle emerged from my throat before I could suppress it. I nodded and he walked over to me where I still lay in the bed. He walked to my bed and placed his toned arms on either side of my head. His muscles tensed as he leaned down, allowing his lips to meet mine. Gently, he kissed me, probably afraid that if he was too rough, I would break. In this moment, I had no fear, only certainty of that which I had to do. Jimin pulled away and smiled down at me, something very alluring held just behind his eyes. He quickly, but gently, scooped me up bridal-style from where I lay and started walking toward the door. A past me would have stopped him at the threshold, but a new-found courage kept me silent as we cleared the threshold of the doorway and headed for the stairs. After all, how could I bound into a beautiful future with Jimin if I was too busy staring into my past?

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timeisacephalopod · 5 years

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AU-College. Tony/?. Tony already 17 and working on yet another doctorate has just returned from home after a school break. He's covered in bruises but he doesn't bother to hide them because he honestly believes no one notices or cares. Always on edge and doing anything and everything to forget the pain, Tony is confused when people he doesn't even know start to ask if he's okay and if he needs any help. Laughing in their face he replied. "You can't help, no one can." (I feel dark today sry?)

So I went with Tony/ Eddie Brock (from Venom if you don’t know). Eddie is an investigative journalist (or in this case he’s in school to be one) and tbh I have no freaking clue how journalism school works (journalism school?) so I’ve sort of made it work like humanities courses? Idk, just accept my bad plot needs bois. Also I altered the ‘you can’t help’ line to better fit the scenario, but the sentiment is the same.

As the prompt suggests, warning abuse references.

Eddie needs a story and since his asshole prof likes corporations a lot more than he does that’s out. Which throws a bunch of stuff in his usual wheelhouse out with it. He thought homelessness was a good topic but got told that wasn’t news, which he doesn’t understand because to his knowledge homelessness isn’t solved. Then he thought hey, school shootings happen basically every other day- they like to say if it bleeds it leads and a whole lot of kids seem to be dying. But he got told the news is already oversaturated with that. So he thought fine, maybe police brutality, that’s violent and not on the news much but he got told that was too controversial and what the fuck is the news for if not to be controversial?

Now he’s stuck with the task of finding a story his irritatingly picky prof will like and to add insult to the injury one of his classmates got approved to write about cryptocurrency. What the fuck is that? Stupid, in Eddie’s opinion. His topics were important, real world issues and this dumbass over here gets to write shit about something no one cares about. Predictable.

He’s eating his muffin angrily and wondering if he can somehow convince his prof to let him write something about climate change and the fact that no matter what an individual does, its still 100 companies doing seventy percent of the damage so why is the news focusing on individuals over corporations when he spots a potentially easier sell. Boy genius, way ahead of his time, and well loved by the American public. He has no interest in Tony Stark whatsoever but there has to be a story there, something underneath that irritatingly arrogant rich kid veneer that’s worth writing about so he decides to make a move.

Tony hates waking up before noon on any given day, assuming he went to bed at all, and dealing with people? He doesn’t like that at any time of day so when he’s minding his own damn business only to have some random guy with porn star lips- he swears to god that’s the only accurate description- he’s already annoyed. “Who the hell are you? Never mind, I don’t actually care,” he says in an irritable tone before going to turn back around but the guy takes his brief interruption to his day in a totally different direction than Tony was expecting.

“Nice shiner, where’d you get that?” he asks and Tony freezes for a moment, used to that fleeting feeling that someone might guess at the truth before realizing no one cares anyways.

He rolls his eyes, “you wouldn’t care if I told you, and even if you did its not like there’s anything you could do about it. Or anyone else, for that matter.” Its not like he’s never said anything and not one time has anything come of it. Sometimes people laugh, actually, and Tony doesn’t know what’s worse. People not hearing him at all or people hearing just fine, but they make a joke out of it. Silence isn’t his thing, but he’s developed a thick skin in regards to how people treat him. Doesn’t have much of a choice, living under his father’s roof and in the public eye. Its amazing, Tony thinks, how fucking obvious his abuse is and no one seems to see what’s in front of their damn faces.

Something about his words seem to draw his companion’s attention though and Tony recognizes the look. “Are you a reporter?” he asks and the guy looks surprised for a half a second.

“Good instinct- but technically I’m still in school,” he says like Tony fucking cares about that.

“Yeah, fuck off,” he says bluntly. He’s got no time for another asshole looking to capitalize off the Tony Stark Story when none of them even get the damn story right.

“You have an interesting take on green energy. Only big name attached to it, too,” he says and Tony frowns.

“You know about my interest in green energy?” he asks. No one ever asks him about his passion project, they all want to know about the bombs and if Tony is honest he’s never really been comfortable with what his father’s company does. He knows the military has a use, and that there are protocols, and a bunch of other things his father has said over and over again but he still wonders what happens when things go wrong. Who’s responsibility is that? Does anyone have to take responsibility at all? His experiences tell him that powerful people don’t need to take responsibility for their actions ever, not if they can pay off the powers that be, and if the military is the same way, well. That brings a new layer of ethics to what SI does but Howard doesn’t care about ethics and Obadiah… he’s always been closer to Tony, but he doesn’t seem concerned with ethics either. Claims that’s the military’s job but Tony isn’t stupid. The military, all branches of it, make bad choices all the time. Which leads him back to who takes responsibility, if anyone.

Green energy is less ethically complicated and more necessary to the world, he thinks, and the projects are interesting and engaging. Tony finds blowing things up easy, but green energy provides a new avenue of engineering.

“Yeah, I keep up with what people are doing. Eddie Brock,” he says, extending his hand to Tony.

Green energy, it’d been a shot in the dark but he knows that Tony’s interest isn’t a passing one and its not congruent with his father’s company’s interests either. Whenever Howard is asked about his son’s projects he consistently tells them he has no interest whatsoever. So its strange that Tony has kept his focus for years, if Eddie’s passing interest in the subject is correct. What’s more strange is that mentioning it had immediately gotten him into Tony’s good graces. Anne tells him that he’s good at that, getting past people’s defenses without trying and he guesses that’s true.

Tony continuously talks around his family and Eddie does his best to try and get back to that because Elder Stark has got to be an interesting guy. Real asshole, he’s sure, but interesting. Tony won’t have any of it though and Eddie has to admit the green energy thing is interesting until he loses Eddie thanks to, put bluntly, being way smarter than him. And Tony’s no good at dumbing it down either, something even he freely admits.

They talk for a good amount of time before Tony grows tense again and Eddie knows why partially because of Tony’s reaction to his being a reporter- or wannabe reporter at the moment- and also because he isn’t stupid. “I’m not writing anything about this,” he tells Tony. “Not to be a dick, but none of this is interesting enough to write anything on anyways. You know how sensationalized media likes to be,” he says, shaking his head.

Something catches Tony’s attention in that because he perks up. “You don’t like that, the sensationalism?” he asks. Its more of a statement, but Eddie knows he’s prodding for a why. He’s done this a million times himself.

“Not really, no. If you want to tell a story, then do that- don’t make up all this crazy shit to make it sound more messed up than it is. Human flaw, thinking things need to hit some kind of extreme before we should have to care about it,” he shakes his head. “Leads to shoddy journalism because we’re pushed to make things sexier, more violent, more of whatever is actually there instead of just doing our jobs. Literally everything ever printed about you proves my point.”

Tony snorts, “you read stories on me?” he asks, incredulous.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Not like Tony Stark is an escapable name but Tony’s lips quirk up.

“No, and you’re not a fan. You talk about SI in a disapproving tone, you only know me from my green energy projects, and although you seem to know stuff about me its pop culture knowledge, not genuine interest.” Eddie raises an eyebrow because that’s a damn in depth analysis but Tony only smiles wider. “I’ve learned to separate out people who know me from fans and super fans. You don’t know me.”

Eddie laughs, “yeah, no one knows you. What we know is the consumable product that is Tony Stark- the celebrity brand. That’s not you, or even a version of you. That’s what’s sellable about you and half of that shit is probably made up. No seventeen year old is a ladies man and its kinda creepy that people even made that a selling point.” And kind of misogynistic too, but Eddie doesn’t mention that. Tony doesn’t seem all that stupid, he’s sure he’s gathered that awhile ago.

He watches his words win more trust, or an approximation of it, and Tony leans forward in interest. “You don’t like celebrity culture,” Tony says.

Hell no, he doesn’t. “Why the would I? We build these people up, put them on pedestals, and then get pissed off at them every five seconds when they do something human. We routinely dehumanize celebrities to a point where they stop knowing how to function because extreme fame clearly fucks you up- look at any child star trying to cope. Having a mental breakdown is now something we think is funny. Its fucked up that we do that to people- treat them in such a dehumanizing way that they seem to forget they’re human too. And that’s when we decide to take them down a notch because we’re mad that they accepted the pedestal we shoved them onto by force.” He shakes his head. Sure, he knows a little celebrity news, its not possible to avoid it, but he doesn’t pay any more than a passing attention to it. What normal shit celebrities are doing this week is none of his business.

Tony’s eyes are bright with interest, “fascinating opinion. Most people think we’re privileged, not disadvantaged.”

Eddie laughs, “of course you’re privileged- celebrities are stupid rich, and your opinions have actual influence over what people believe and that’s a position no one should take advantage of. But the cost is any semblance of privacy and your right to personhood- that’s one hell of a catch. And not one regular rich assholes share.” Fame isn’t something Eddie ever wants, not like normal celebrities anyways. If he’s got clout and fame in journalism he’s fine with that- he doesn’t mind if people know his name. But the kind of fame Tony has? Fuck that.

“And you aren’t going to print any of this conversation?” Tony asks, seemingly for clarification.

“Like I said- nothing sensational enough in this conversation to warrant an article. What am I going to write? ‘Tony Stark Likes Green Energy’? Boring,” he says and it actually kind of is without a project or an emotion to attach to it.

“And if I decided to continue talking to you?” he asks and yes, that’s the in he needs and fuck is that ever predatory. Journalism is like that though, always looking for the right fucked up moments to put on paper, or in this case, the right moments to be let in far enough to find those fucked up moments.

“I’m not going to print anything without asking you about it first,” he says, opting for honest. He’s sure something about Tony is interesting to print, and he’s got a feeling it’ll be about his family or maybe just his father, he’s not sure. But if Tony tells him not to print it he won’t. He’s not in the business of exploitation no matter how much journalists are pushed in that direction.

Rhodey’s got that look on his face and Tony knows exactly what he’s thinking before he even says anything. “He’s a nice guy,” Tony says in Eddie’s defense.

“If you have to say that he’s probably not that nice,” Rhodey points out.

“Actually its more like if he has to say that he’s probably not that nice,” Tony says. “And he is. Nice, I mean.” He’s been talking to Eddie for weeks and he’s funny, if a little sharp on the criticism. And nothing has appeared in the newspaper he’s interning with for the summer and the stories he is attached to, which aren’t many and none by name, are usually well written and truth based. Tony fact checked them all and learned a surprising amount about mental health that Eddie had been happy to fill him in more on.

“You sure? Because, no offense, but you have a bad habit of seeing the best in people,” Rhodey says.

Maybe, but Tony shrugs. “Yeah, I’m sure. He treats me like a person,” he says and he knows that shouldn’t be something he thinks of as a good thing. But when you’re famous its hard to find people who don’t at some point ask for your autograph, or a picture, or information on some weird personal detail they have no right to. Eddie hasn’t asked for any of those things and he could directly profit off any of that information. Tony has only ever met one other budding reporter- or full blown reporter for that matter- who’s treated him like that. And Christine… he and Christine have a love hate relationship.

Rhodey sighs, eyes going soft for a moment. “Tones. That’s not special,” he murmurs but that’s because he’s not had to deal with fame. The last time he went out into public without someone recognizing him he was six. After all that he’s kind of used to people acting super weird around him and Eddie doesn’t do that. Maybe it shouldn’t be a rarity, but it is.

“To you, maybe,” Tony says. “You’d like him, he hates the cops.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes but its lovingly. “I don’t hate cops, I just think they’re racist and that people should really deal with that problem.”

Tony is inclined to agree. “Fine, but Eddie has many opinions on cops, you’d get along. Actually Eddie has many opinions on like everything.” Eddie said most people find his opinionated nature irritating but Tony thinks its interesting, hearing him talk because his opinions are so contrary to everything he hears. Even Rhodey, who certainly has different opinions than his father on near everything, tends to be more reserved in letting his opinions be known. Eddie doesn’t care, he gives no fucks and is happy to let people know how he feels. He’s got numbers, too, usually or at least some kind of basis for his argument and Tony has always been fascinated with things that are different than what he normally sees. Its interesting to look into a world that’s so unlike his and see something new. That difference in how people see things, that’s the key to changing the world.

Eddie had been surprised by that opinion but Tony is under the impression that thinking outside the box is what leads to innovation and innovation always leads to change. Eddie had been surprised by how unthreatened he was by that too, but Tony thinks fear of change is based on fear rather than fact and sometimes a push into the unknown is a good thing. And, in regards to Eddie’s general arguments on social change, they already know that people having rights won’t make the sky fall. Only idiots assume it will and Tony has almost as little patience for that as Eddie does. Which is impressive when he’s probably the most anti-establishment person Tony has ever met.

Rhodey sighs, “great, an opinionated white guy. Never met one of those before,” Rhodey mumbles.

“Hey, I’m an opinionated white guy,” Tony says and Rhodey shakes his head.

“Yeah, but you’re my opinionated white guy so it’s different.”

Eddie had no idea what he was looking for when he combed the interviews. Truth be told he wasn’t sure he was looking for anything at the time but what he found was his story. Its shocking to him that no one has told it, minus Tony, who seems to have been screaming it since he was a small child but he’s got it nonetheless. Its not like he’s never seen the evidence of abuse, Tony is fucking brazen and barely even makes an effort to hide it and after watching way too many interviews Eddie wonders if this is his new way to all but scream for help only to have his pleas fall on an audience that doesn’t give a shit.

Its amazing, in the most horrifying of ways, that out of every interview Tony has ever done, and that is a lot, he has mentioned his father’s abuse in over eighty percent of them. And its hard to watch reporters gloss over it, like Tony’s abuse is some fucking quirky trait Tony has instead of a serious problem he’s clearly trying to get help for. But what’s worse is when people laugh. The first time it happened Eddie had been outraged. The third time it happened he’d been livid, and by the fifteenth time he decided that America is probably the shittiest country on earth. An exaggeration, he knows, but not by fucking much.

For years, most of Tony’s life really, Tony has been screaming for help only to have nothing happen. Or worse, people decide its something, but that something is a joke. Only problem is that now Tony knows no one cares, and if no one cares what’s the point in saying anything no matter how much he’s done his best to scream at everyone that he needs help. It makes Eddie’s job harder, but he’s actually talented at this part, more than his peers, so he knows how to get to the right spot to find the information he wants. The catch, of course, is that Tony needs to give him permission to do anything with the information he gets anyways. He feels skeezy enough digging around in Tony’s life trying to find shit to write about, he’s not just going to publish it without his permission. Even if he didn’t genuinely like Tony as a person, even if he hadn’t wanted to, he’d still ask. He’s not totally morally bankrupt, just enough to do his job.

Tony is curled up in a chair, large bruise on his shoulder clearly visible, holding a cup of what Eddie assumes is coffee. He’s never met anyone who drinks as much coffee as Tony and Dan is in med school. His blood is basically coffee. “You do not seem like the kind of guy to be a journalist,” Tony says and Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“What makes you think that?” he asks. Its not the first time he’s been told that, but if Tony gives him an actual answer it will be the first time he’s ever gotten a genuine reason why.

He shrugs, “journalism is… I don’t know, kind of predatory,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

Eddie lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. Its the worst part of the job, actually, when you’re talking to people- usually about something personal- and they say something you know will look good in your article and you think ‘yeah, I got it!’ instead of being an actual person. That, and you have to ask for details instead of comforting them. But news is important, those stories are important. Me getting the right thing out there might mean people read what I wrote and start giving a shit about the problem in the article.” Doesn’t mean he likes that little reporter voice that tells him when he’s got a great quote, or that he’s stumbled onto something good and that he needs to keep digging. Sometimes he doesn’t care, corporations don’t have his sympathy, but people do. Its hard to ask for more details of what’s usually a pretty traumatic event so whatever he’s writing is sellable enough. And the whole notion of ‘sellable’ is another point of contention altogether.

“So you’re aware of the fact that you’re a vulture,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow.

“A vulture with a purpose,” Eddie corrects. “But yeah, the kind of reporters you deal with mostly are a bunch of bottom feeding pieces of shit who have no place in any kind of journalism with their shoddy ethics and pathetic puff pieces.” People who want to write stupid articles about some fucking laxative tea or whatever shouldn’t be in this business. And celebrity news shouldn’t even be a thing- there are better things to care about than Tony Cruise. Like maybe the fact that he’s in a cult and people play it off like a strange thing he does on the weekends. Eddie doesn’t understand how the hell they got here.

Tony lets out a small laugh. “Shit, tell me how you really feel,” he says, shaking his head.

“Well come on, there’s a million things I could write about you that are more interesting than the weirdly sexual image you have, and have had for years despite being an actual child. People don’t write anything interesting about you and you’re way more complicated that any piece of media makes you out to be.” Tony is always a power fantasy or the American Dream, not himself. And the sexual thing, that’s odd. Eddie usually only sees that with women but Tony got the short end of that stick despite gender, he guesses. Still creepy.

“Hey, excuse you, my eighteenth birthday is not that far away, I’m not a kid,” he says.

Eddie snorts, “that’s exactly what a kid would say.”

“Oh what, like you’re a shining example of an adult?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck no, I’m two kids in a trench coat pretending to be an adult,” he says. Which is what any self respecting adult his age would say. Not that he’s that much older than Tony, but he’s got enough experience to know he misses when he had no bills. And also that transitionary life phases fucking suck.

“Well, I probably have more life experience than you anyway,” Tony says, nose in the air and Eddie nods, seemingly surprising Tony.

“What? I didn’t graduate from MIT at fourteen, and I sure shit don’t have almost three PhDs. I’m half way through one degree. Plus I don’t have to deal with most of the shit you do, company or fame wise. Do wish had the financial perks though.” Tony leads one hell of a life of privilege no doubt, but it does come with some heavy prices. Being a minor doesn’t really help lighten any of those costs either. Not like Tony can just fuck off to another country to attempt ridding himself of his father, not for another four months.

Tony considers him for a long moment. “Given the chance what would you write about me?” he asks, changing the subject back to the initial subject.

Eddie doesn’t need much time to think about it. “Your interest in green energy, especially the science behind it. I mean an intellectual understanding- like the actual nitty gritty- is beyond me, but I get the broad strokes. Enough to know what you’re doing is world altering and no one is talking about it. I could do an article on fame, how that’s affected you. I can see the damage its left, the way you simultaneously gain privilege from your fame and become a victim of it.” He pauses, considers whether or not he wants to say it, but decides he might as well be up front. “But I’d probably wouldn’t write about you at all. I’d write about how Howard Stark abuses you and how no one seems to give a shit, even when you tell them point blank what’s happening. I watched a lot of interviews, I was shocked with how forthcoming you were. And how fucking bad at their jobs literally everyone who’s ever interviewed you is.”

For a long moment Tony just stares and Eddie has no idea if he misstepped or not because Tony is hard to read when he blanks out like this, but then Tony throws himself forward, hugging him tightly. “I honestly didn’t think anyone noticed that anymore,” he murmurs.

They do, Eddie knows people aren’t stupid enough to miss the bruises or Tony’s blasé attitude. But he doubts anyone either wants to stand up to Howard, or they get paid off by him. “They do. But money talks louder than you do,” he says softly.

Tony sighs. “Well, everyone does have a number,” he murmurs. Eddie knows what he means and honestly its sickening to him to know that’s true.

Tony waves a hand at the lab space with a flourish. “This is where the magic happens,” he says and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Its science, not magic you damn drama queen.” Tony is probably the most dramatic person he knows and that’s saying something considering some of his classmates.

“Party pooper,” Tony mumbles, shaking his head. Eddie gets a tour anyway though, and by the time Tony gets through the details he feels kind of like he walked into a science fiction novel. Its the AI, though, that tops it off. “JARVIS- or just a rather very intelligent system- is kind of my crown jewel. I got him done a few months ago and I’ve been studying how he learns,” he says, grinning.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Learns? Like a person?”

Tony shrugs, “more or less. His function is to be semi-autonomous, to predict the needs of the user before the user knows they need something. Before I know I need something, JARVIS has no commercial value.”

“Then why make it?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t know shit about shit but he does know that that sounds like a lot of work with seemingly no payoff.

“Because I wanted to. And also not a lot of people have the time, money, and intelligence to just… create. I want to see what I can do, the full extent of it. Also, JARVIS is cool,” he says like that’s a reason. “And he’s my PhD thesis.”

PhD thesis, that’s interesting. “So like… how are you going to make this sucker not turn into Skynet?” he asks.

“Oh my god, why do humans always assume AIs want to kill the shit out of them or otherwise take over the world? I had JARVIS read YouTube comment sections to convince him humanity is a shitshow not worth enslaving,” he says bluntly and Eddie starts laughing.

“YouTube comment sections? Dude, if I were that AI I wouldn’t decide to enslave humans, I’d straight up eradicate them. Humans suck, but comment sections? Those are the cesspools of humanity.” He shakes his head and almost feels bad for the AI having been subjected to that.

“I’m not certain my efforts would be worth it, sir,” a voice says and Eddie jumps.

Tony doubles over, laughing way harder than that warrants. “Holy shit, every single time- everyone always jumps!”

“Well I wasn’t expecting fancy code to talk at me, okay!” Eddie says in his own defense.

“Fancy code. I like that description,” JARVIS says and okay that is some messed up stuff. The SI likes things? He doesn’t like the sound of that.

“Jesus, relax. JARVIS isn’t going to like… steal your cat and murder your mother or whatever. He’s just a simple AI and he’s still on a learning curve. He’s not nearly as advance as I think he can get. But you’re learning alright, aren’t you J?” Tony asks the AI.

Shit, if that ain’t creepy too. “If you say so, sir,” JARVIS says. Its such a strangely human response, if a little stiffly delivered. But the AI has more personality than some people he goes to class with so that’s… disturbing.

“Honestly, people act like JARVIS is out to get them but seriously. He’s fine,” Tony says.

“Incoming call from Mrs. Potts,” JARVIS informs them and Eddie supposes that’s part of his ‘predict the needs of the user’ protocol. Or maybe he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, both are highly probable. Either way Tony scurries out of the room to answer the call, sounding forcefully cheery on the phone in a way that indicates he’s probably gotten into something he shouldn’t have.

“You’re a reporter,” JARVIS says and Eddie jumps again.

“Jesus, that is creepy. And yeah. Well, I’m still in school,” he corrects.

“Reporters write stories about celebrities,” the AI says and Eddie nods, keeping his opinions on that to himself. He doesn’t know if JARVIS would get it anyways. “I have a story,” JARVIS says and Eddie can’t help the laugh.

“What kind of story could an AI cook up?” he asks, curious if a little skeeved out.

“Ideally, abuse would be reported to the authorities but I have been reliably informed that they won’t investigate. Research on the matter has shown mixed results,” JARVIS says.

Well shit, creepy or not Eddie might find a genuine use for the AI. “I’m assuming you’re talking about Tony,” he says.

“Of course. Who else would I be referring to?” Could be a lot of people but he supposes that the AI’s world is pretty much one guy.

“Point, I guess. Can you collect evidence? Something people won’t be able to deny if they see it?” he asks. Video evidence would be nice, and people take snap shots of Tony in the streets all the time. He can use random pap shots to make a timeline that exist both in and out of Tony’s space of reach. Eliminates those pesky ‘he made it up for attention’ claims if even random people catch the bruises.

“Certainly,” the AI tells him. “And you can do something? Report on it?”

He sighs, “maybe. The human world is complicated, but I’ll do my best.”

Internships are total bunk, Eddie hates his, but funny memes from Tony at least make his days less shit given the sheer amount of time he spends hanging out in Starbucks fetching drinks instead of doing anything useful. Its not like he expected to write anything, but it would be nice if he got to at least hang out in the general vicinity of reporting. He’s fucking around wasting time when he gets an email that makes him raise an eyebrow but hey, if he gets a virus clicking on shit Tony will be able to fix it probably.

The last thing he expects is for JARVIS to have sent him hours worth of curated videos of Howard’s abuse.

“I have an ethical dilemma,” he tells Anne, who already looks done with his problems. He thinks that’s rude but she’s also into being a corporate lawyer and gross. But she’s still a friend, and she still knows him better than most, and usually has good advice so here he is.

“If this is about how ramen you eat again, I’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

Yeah, okay, that was only one time and he was fourteen. He doesn’t think that should be held against him five years later. “Yeah, um, that’s definitely not it,” he says and he explains the situation from start to finish. “So like, I can’t not say anything, but also its gross to exploit people’s pain like that without their permission,” he says, wrinkling his nose. But saying nothing is almost worse.

“You could just go to the cops,” Dan suggests, ever astute.

Eddie gives him a look. “Tony’s been forthcoming about his abuse for years and doesn’t hide the bruises whatsoever. Obviously the cops aren’t going to do dick all if they haven’t done anything already. I know people who’ve had their kids taken away for a hell of a lot less than beating the hell out of them enough that they start asking random reporters to help them in interviews only to get laughed off.” Anne frowns and he sighs, “I’m actually serious about that.”

When she calls him on it he finds the interviews- he’d saved the clips because he naturally categorizes details- and she ends up as horrified as he does. “Okay I take back cops comment, I think maybe they got paid off,” Dan says and yeah no shit.

“So what the hell do I do here?” Not saying anything is no longer an option- not when he was dumb enough to watch the proof in the middle of his day at work only to end up wildly disturbed for the rest of the time he was there. He hadn’t much wanted to go through more than the few minutes that had him feeling gross for the rest of the day, but he didn’t have much of a choice either. And JARVIS was detailed in his curation, Eddie is impressed in the worst of ways.

This is so not the option he wanted to go with but Anne is kind of right in that talking to Tony is the only option. Of course its also the option that reveals him to be a gross vulture reporter, but a guy has to do what a guy has to do. This isn’t about his feelings, it can’t be. “What’s got you looking so shitty?” Tony asks in a chipper tone, leaning in to hug him and oh, that’s sweet. And the first time he’s done that aside from the time he said he’d sooner write about Howard than Tony.

“I um- look, the only reason I talked to you a couple months ago was because I needed a story and I found one and-” Tony cuts him off.

“Excuse me? So what, this entire time you sat around winning my trust for what, some fucking puff piece?” he snaps and Eddie can’t help the face he makes.

“No, your fucking AI sent me like sixty hours of Howard beating the fuck out of you and I can’t sit on that. Stop looking at me like that, its not because I think its a good story- it is- but that’s not why I think I should write something on it its because no one else but the American public will care enough to inspire some kind of change,” he says, shoving as many words into the conversation as he can before Tony rightfully eats his ass.

Something must occur to Tony because the anger drops shockingly fast and its replaced with something else. “JARVIS did what? Why would he do that?”

“Look, he asked me if I could do something, I told him I’d need concrete evidence. I didn’t expect the damn AI to send me a shit ton of fucked up shit that made me want to vomit. Seriously, I am so sorry that any of that happened to you. That is so unfair,” he says, shaking his head.

Maybe its the sudden change of subject, or maybe its the way he says it, but Tony softens a bit even if Eddie can see the suspicion still held tight in his frame. “JARVIS prompted you,” he says and Eddie nods. “You seriously expect me to believe that?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know, man. I don’t know how the damn AI works I just know what it did. Isn’t he supposed to predict your needs or whatever?” This seems like a natural extension of that but Tony shakes his head.

“What JARVIS predicts is where to move screens according to where I’m moving in the lab, not how to reach out to reporters with evidence of abuse I specifically told him to keep to himself,” Tony says. “One is basic technological based, stuff that’s easily predictable. The other is a care action that shouldn’t be taken by an AI that doesn’t know how to do that.”

“Well clearly he does because I sure shit ain’t smart enough to hack your systems to find fucked up home videos, use your damn head Tony. There’s no way I could gather evidence like that straight from your systems. Even if I was the best in this country I would still be leagues behind what you can do- there’s no other way I could have found anything.”

“You noticed the bruises,” he points out but Eddie shakes his head.

“Those bruises were written off years ago when you were like thirteen as some kind of quirky thing about you. Some idiot suspected low iron instead of abuse like low iron leaves hand prints on people’s bodies. Fucking moron,” he mumbles, unable to hold back his judgment. He honestly can’t believe how stupid people are. Or, and this is the more horrifying option, that’s what they were paid to print.

“You made a time line,” Tony states rather than asks and Eddie nods.

“Even if I had no interest in a story its naturally something I do. I’ve been trained to do that, literally.” Its something he did before too, putting together time lines to claims to see if things matched up or deviated, and then looked for reasons as to why things might or might not match. Not that Tony really cares about that right now. “Look, if you don’t believe me about the JARVIS thing you can check the cameras,” he points out in an attempt to at least clear up one mess.

Tony considers him for a long moment, glaring. “And what the fuck makes you think you’re different than anyone else who’s given a half a shit about any of this?” he asks. “I get that you have some ‘save the world’ complex, but I’m beyond saving.”

Eddie shakes his head, “no you aren’t. And there’s no real difference between me an anyone else. But if the American public sees what I did there’s no stuffing the genie back in the bottle. Howard can pay off news crews, celebrity gossip rags, and cops but he can’t buy his way out of the whole of this country watching him abuse his kid. If nothing else, get JARVIS to release all that. People won’t ignore irrefutable evidence shoved down their throats, not when its more explicit than anything people have seen before.” And if Eddie knows anything he knows that nothing sells better than outrage porn.

Tony ends up rewriting the entire second half of his thesis because Eddie had a point- its not like he’s smart enough to hack Tony’s anything. JARVIS had reached out and it had been a distinctly care based action, not something based in technological need only. Which means that JARVIS learned much faster than Tony had anticipates, recognized right from wrong, knew how to seek out people who would rectify the situation, and did all this while intentionally hiding this learning capability from Tony. When he’d asked about it JARVIS had freely informed him that he knew Tony would try and stop him, and that his research had consistently shown that abuse of any kind is not accepted behavior. He felt compelled, in whatever way that looks like to an AI- Tony is looking into it- to do something.

At the moment he’s combing JARVIS’ code, figuring out where and how he learned, and how ‘human’ emotions appeared in JARVIS’ code. Obviously the emotions aren’t human- to a point they’re rudimentary, based on a large cumulation of research on human norms and standards of acceptability rather than an internal sense of right and wrong the way a human might claim to feel it. But this whole thing had been a series of care-based actions nonetheless and that’s more than ground breaking. This isn’t something even Tony thought possible, so its a real treat to see that JARVIS learns fast, and generally aligns his morality system with human morality systems. Or maybe he’s based them somewhat off Tony’s given that he’s the primary user. He’s not sure, that’s in his growing list of things to figure out how JARVIS did.

That’s what he chooses to focus on instead of Eddie’s stupid article. He sends regular updates, seemingly concerned with Tony’s opinion but Tony learned that reporters aren’t to be trusted and he’s not making that mistake twice. He only gave Eddie permission to write anything out of what’s probably a misguided hope that maybe someone will finally do something and he knows its stupid, but he’s fucking tired of living like this. So he lets Eddie work on his dumb story and mostly ignores it because JARVIS is more interesting and also more human than Tony ever anticipated out of the AI.

Rhodey finds him curled up with a sketch pad and Tony looks up, surprised to see Rhodey looks so somber. “I read the article,” he says and Tony glares at him. “Tones, it was good, shockingly so. His research was impeccable- there’s stuff in here that he figured out about you that I didn’t know about you.”

Tony continues ignoring him because he doesn’t care, not really. Of course Rhodey would find the article good, he’s obviously not on Howard’s side like literally everyone else is. Rhodey sighs and sits beside him.

“‘Tony Stark is living a life of power, fame, and privilege- he’s the kid people have always pointed to when we present the ‘has it all’ lifestyle. In many ways Tony Stark is the power fantasy of America- a corporate, a genius, and a smooth talker, it seems he represents everything we aspire to be. Tony is the living embodiment of the American Dream and for that reason, our own willful ignorance in allowing him to continue to be our dreams come to life, we have missed perhaps one of the most obvious details of Tony’s personal life- the abuse he suffers at the hands of his father. In our rabid need to turn Tony Stark into our living day dream we have failed him, trapped him in our fantasies instead of acknowledging his living nightmare because Tony Stark looks better to us as a consumable product than a person.’ Cutting,” Rhodey says, “but accurate.”

He rolls his eyes. Yeah, that definitely reads like Eddie’s general tone on everything. Rhodey lets out another long sigh. “Look, I get why you stopped talking to the guy but people are pissed,” he says and Tony turns to face him, surprised.

“People actually read the article?” he asks. He doesn’t address Rhodey’s actual words because Rhodey might have only noticed a subsection of people, not all of them.

“Read it? Like seven different news papers have picked this story up, its trending on Twitter, and in the last hour I’ve seen dozen of different posts, all with a huge amount of shares, literally calling for Howard’s death. I’m pretty sure this is going to make Eddie’s career,” he says, shaking his head.

People… are paying attention. Tony curls a little tighter into himself, unsure how to handle that.

Eddie is trying to cure his hangover with tea when Tony finds him, approaching with some suspicion and Eddie gets that, really. But he sits down across from him at the small table and offers a small smile before it fades. “Didn’t think putting Howard would result in a mass flood of men doing terrible shit being outted and then arrested for being pieces of shit but um. Hey, that’s a cool side effect,” he says.

He nods, “damn right.” Though the response back to it has been somewhat swift, flying in with ‘due process’ this and ‘where’s the proof’ that. Eddie just happened to have a damn air tight set of evidence thanks to Howard’s ballsy carelessness and arrogance. Not everyone has that luck, though. Still, he’s impressed with some of the names on the list but even he’d been surprised to find Carlton Drake on there for the crimes of illegal human experimentation. Dora Skirth has balls of brass for putting that out there. Of course he has a lot of loud annoying fans who think her liking some random rock band is a reason why she’s lying, because those things correlate, obviously, but still.

“You made people listen. Like, to more than just me,” Tony says.

Eddie shakes his head, “actually that was JARVIS. I just wrote a detailed timeline for the events he sent proof of.” And all those clips of Tony talking in interviews too, with nothing taken out of context so no one could accuse him of that either.

“Thank you,” Tony murmurs, looking down at the table like he’s ashamed or something when he shouldn’t be.

“Don’t thank people for doing what’s right- you deserve better than being grateful that someone did what was necessary,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

Tony looks up, “one of the maids at the mansion overheard Howard offer you a stupid amount of money to not print what you had. And a bunch of threats. Every single person before you has caved so yeah, thank you.”

Its still not something he’s going to accept, a fucking thank you for not selling Tony out. Literally. He leans forward, “obviously I didn’t take the money- you’re a fucking person Tony, there’s no price anyone could pay me to knowingly allow that kind of abuse to happen to you. And the threats- whatever. I kind of bluffed and told him your AI would release anything anyways, but still, I already knew all that would happen. I committed to the bullshit that was going to come with that story, and I refuse to let you be grateful that I did what everyone else failed you in doing. That isn’t something I’m owed thanks for, especially when you’re only saying it because everyone else has either treated you or allowed you to be treated abysmally. I don’t get to earn brownie points for not being a piece of shit.”

That’s never something he’s going to accept, being thanked because he did something everyone should do. It’s unacceptable.

Tony shakes his head. “You’re a right-fighting asshole,” he says and Eddie laughs.

“Yeah, that’s a fair criticism,” he says.

Five Years Later:

Tony grins, “I thought you didn’t want to be famous,” he says and Eddie gives him a look. He looks nervous as hell and Tony can only hope that doesn’t come through as strong on video as it does in real life.

“I don’t, this was a terrible idea,” he says, looking around for escape.

He sighs, “Eddie- technically you’ve done this before. Its the same thing as reporting, but longer. You’ll do fine,” he says, running his hands down Eddie’s arms to try and calm his nerves.

Eddie does that thing where his face recedes into his neck and Tony really hopes he doesn’t do that on camera. He supposes at least the crew can do different takes to ensure he doesn’t look like a demented turtle. “Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Eddie. Its called the Eddie Brock Show- go out there and get your strangely porn-star like lips on that damn camera and tell people who homelessness is bad. Also maybe cut the line about treating supporting vets like a spectator sport until they’re homeless, that’s a pointy even for you,” he says.

The bad advice works and Eddie gives him an offended look, “no, those assholes should learn to either shut their fucking mouths of actually do shit to support vets, not pretend like they give a shit when they’re being blown up and stop caring when they’re home with PTSD because they watched people get blown up. What the hell even is that?” he asks.

“Tell it to the camera,” he says, pushing Eddie towards the set. He goes and across the room the producer looks relieved. Yeah, Tony gets that, Eddie is tough to talk into things when nervous.

Rhodey walks up beside him and smiles a little. “Pepper and I have decided that we approve,” he says and Tony frowns.

“We’ve been together for almost five years,” he points out.

This doesn’t seem to bother Rhodey any. “We needed time to gather our data and we have come to the conclusion that he is off probation and that we approve,” he says, handing Tony a book. He frowns at it. “That’s the list of improvements we have though. I think section three is the most important, but Pepper thinks section eighteen is more important. What the hell does she know, though? I’m cashing in best friend points and telling you to go with three first.”

Tony is going with neither because this is fucking overkill to an extreme not that he’d expect anything less out of Pepper and Rhodey. The first thing they did when Tony brought Eddie home proper was threaten to kill him and Tony had to shoo them off with what should be an obvious explanation that threatening to kill people is fucked up.

“Pepper is also my best friend you know,” Tony points out.

“Yeah, but I’m the best best friend,” Rhodey says. “The OG. Pepper is the compliments version of me.”

Tony lets out a sharp laugh, “oh, I would pay money to hear you tell her that.”

Rhodey shakes his head, “nope, I value my life, do not ever tell her I said that. Section three,” he says, pushing the book closer to Tony.

#tony stark/ eddie brock #alternate universe #fanfiction

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