#how do i let myself be mediocre at things help how do i turn off my brain without going full dissociation
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Free use with Steve
kinktober masterlist!!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging
a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3
When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.
“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.
“Pay nothing?”
“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.
“And how would I do that?”
“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings
“Available for…what exactly?”
“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.
“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.
Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.
“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.
“You’ve got my word.”
So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.
“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.
“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.
“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.
“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.
“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”
After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.
When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.
And boy did Steve know it.
“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.
“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.
“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.
“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.
“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.
“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.
I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.
“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.
I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.
“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.
“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.
“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.
“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.
“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.
“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”
hope you enjoyed!!
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#stranger things#stranger things smut#kinktober#kinktober 2022
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talentless
harry styles x actress!reader
summary: harry gets advice on how to deal with criticism from y/n. y/n reflects back to when harry helped her. masterlist
warning: talks of rude people and parents, drinking
word count: 1.4k
a/n: yes, i’m alluding to a matilda fic. I would never forgive myself so not take the opportunity. but before that i’m def gonna build up their relationship more aka angst!! yay!! and like normal this is apart of the SOH universe but you don’t need to read that to understand this fic.
April, 2015
“How do you deal with criticism?”
It was late at night when Harry asked Y/n. They were in her bathroom, doing their nightly skin care routine—more like Y/n actually doing it, and Harry blowing the suds off his hands from his cleanser onto his girlfriend—and looking forward to going to bed after a busy day.
Y/n halted her movements, looking over to her boyfriend who got suspiciously quite a couple seconds ago. She missed his laughter.
She sighed. She wanted to yell at him, ask him why in his five years of in the spotlight he decided to look himself up; it’s the first rule of fame, never look yourself up—especially on twitter. But she knew that yelling wouldn’t help him, it would just make things worse.
“I-I don’t have to.” She tells him. “If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist to me.”
Harry, sitting on the bathroom countertop, looks at his hands laying in his lap. He doesn’t move, it almost looks like he’s not breathing too.
“But I know that’s not what you want to hear.” She lays her hand on his, holding it and rubbing her thumb across his skin soothingly. Harry looks up, eyes watery and soft. “Let’s cuddle.”
She pulls him along behind her. Y/n removed the covers and gestures for Harry to get in which he gladly does. Harry’s love language has always and will forever be touch, nothing sexual, just loving touches make him feel loved and that’s all he really needs right now.
Y/n gets in behind him, being the big spoon tonight as Harry turns to hug Y/n from the front.
“You know I love you right.” She mumbles, her hand going to stroke Harry’s hair. Harry hums and she takes that as the sign to go on. “And you also know I’m not the best at taking criticism.”
After being together for three years, Y/n has slowly let Harry into her personal life in bits and pieces. But after a stressful night of work and with an added bit of drinking, Y/n had revealed to never being able to deal with criticism at all due to her extreme perfectionism. It was a real heart to heart conversation, one that will always be important to Y/n.
…
The bottle feels far to light for Y/n’s taste. She needs more vodka, a hard and biting drink is suiting for this situation, but she can’t seem to get the courage to get up.
Her phone has been buzzing a lot too, but like the unopened drink in the cabinet, she can’t seem to get up to answer it.
The ringing stoped for a bit. She didn’t know to feel relieved or saddened. She felt alone—something that always happens when she flies to the States for filming and interviews—even though she has some friends that she was filming with.
Gone Girl was an amazing film to star in. She was happy and successful but she just can’t shake what was going on.
She recently got a call from her parents. Obviously, she let it go to voicemail, but that’s stop her from listening to it.
And that’s why she’s on the floor now, of her New York flat drinking and finishing a bottle of mediocre vodka, wanting to cry but just can’t form the tears.
She hears banging on the door, Y/n’s head snapping over to the sound. The mystery person is all the encouragement she needs for jumping up, throwing the bottle away and getting a price of gum. But her plans are foiled when the door opens, and a familiar British voice fills the room.
“Love?” Harry calls out, holding the keys you gave him to the flat as he walks further in. He sees her, catching her red handed as she dumps the bottle in the trash, face blotchy and her whole body language on edge. Anxiety quickly creeps in. He doesn’t like seeing her like this, and can’t help but be a little scared. “What’s wrong.”
Harry was luckily in New York at the same time as Y/n was there to film some interviews. She didn’t know their time would overlap, but Harry wouldn’t be damned if he couldn’t see her. He had heard nothing from her end which was never a good thing; coupled with Harry’s anxiety, he came as soon as he could.
“Nothing.” She lies. Harry hates the smile she puts on—the one that reserved for interviews and red carpet phots, the fake one.
Harry hugs her, rubbing his hand on his back to sooth her. She lets him. “Please don’t lie.”
“I, I got a call from my parents today.” She hesitates to continue, but a kiss on the head begs her to keep going—to let it all out. “They were ‘critiquing’ me like normal. They said some stuff, about how my skills aren’t as good as they should be. It—“ She took a deep breath, still refusing to let a tear come out. “I just shouldn’t of listened to my voicemail.”
“No, you shouldn’t of.” Harry agrees. He pulls back, still holding onto her. “You know you’re better than them. You know your perfect. You know that you are all you need to be.”
…
“You know you’re better than them, You know you’re perfect. You know you’re all you need to be.” Y/n echoed him. She said it with the same passion and tenderness as her boyfriend said to her. It’s what he needed to hear.
“Oh yeah? Who came up with that.” Harry scoffed, joking, which is always a good sign.
“My boyfriend.” She hummed. “He’s so good with words like that. What ever comes out of his mouth is like some sort of magic.”
“Sound like a catch.” Harry said, arms wrapping around Y/n a little tighter and getting a face full of boob in the process.
“He is.” She agreed. “He’s also really pretty, talented, and the sweetest human ever.”
“Is he sexy?”
“Super sexy.” She told him, giving him a kiss. They sit in silence for a bit, Harry listens to Y/n heartbeat go, and Y/n plays with Harry’s hair.
“Hey H?” Y/n asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“What did you read?” She said slowly, she needed to specifically know what nonsense was set about her perfect boyfriend now, and in what ways she needs to remind him about how perfect he is.
“They said I was talentless.” A pause. “Going back to only getting through the X-factor with needing a band to only being famous from being with the guys.” He admitted. “They said if I was really talented, that I would leave like Zayn, and start my own music career.”
Y/n gulped. She of course talked to Harry about what Zayn’s departure ment for One Direction, and it was planned that a much deserved break would happen soon. But it was fairly obvious that they weren’t getting back together. Harry was scared to go off on his own, but Y/n had of course floated the idea of writing his own songs and performing alone, just Harry Styles.
“What if I go solo and I fail?” His voice cracked, squeezing Y/n so tight she had scoot squeeze his hand back.
“Harry, can I admit something?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I read your notebook.”
Harry shot up and looked at Y/n like a dear caught in the headlights.
The notebook had songs, personal songs, Harry was writing. And they all had one thing in common: they were about her. Who else could Harry write about love and passion then his girlfriend? The love of his life? He had no other muse then her, she was perfect.
“Those songs, Harry.” She stroked his cheek. “They’re so good Harry.”
He smiles, overjoyed with her praise. “You’re not just saying that?”
“When I run out of road, you bring me home.” She recited, the line unable to leave her head for the past couple of months since she stumbled across the notebook.
“Sweet Creature.” Harry murmured, slowly going back to his previous position. “You like it?”
“Yup.” She assures. “Expect when you call me stubborn. I am not—“
“You are so stubborn, don’t even try.” They both giggled and kissed, happy and content.
“But seriously, you have nothing to worry about my love. You will do amazing things.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” She kissed his head, causing a soft groan to come from Harry. “You are going to do amazing things.”
“So are you.”
...
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#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry x reader#harry styles x actress!reader#harry styles series#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one direction#bf!harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles x fem!reader
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For Every Loss, There is a Win -W.W. [18+]
Warnings: Language, angst, smut, face riding, oral sex, wally being too adorable for words, is my love for soccer seeping through?
Pairing: Soccer Player!Wally West x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.26K
A/n: Big thanks to Fish for helpign me with this! Love you! This is a part two to my previous soccer wally fic! I hope you enjoy!
It killed you to see him like this, Wally never took losing a game easy but this was a new low. His eyes were glued to his phone, taking in every negative comment fans and rivals had to say about the game, and how he flubbed the final shot. What made it worse was the sports channel was playing on the T.V. highlighting moments from the game, including Wally’s performance.
“I’m not sure what West was doing out there today Rob, but as you can see he immediately stepped wrong from the get go.”
“You’re right Nick. What he should have done was pass, and let someone else take the shot.”
“Maybe West has let the fame and glory get to his–”
You couldn’t take it, ripping the plug out of the wall you walked over and took Wally’s phone out of his hand.
“Hey! Babe I–” he protested, before you walked off with his phone and hid it where he wouldn’t find it.
“Wally, you have got to stop listening to them,”
“Y/N, they’re right! I was getting too ahead of myself and I–”
Pinching his lips shut, you frowned. “If I hear one more negative comment, you won’t get any of the tacos I made.”
Wally slumped his shoulders and nodded, with a muffled “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, now go sit your cute butt down and eat and then we can snuggle.”
Once you released his lips, Wally sulked off to the couch and ate. Your dinner was silent, Wally still stuck in this pit of depression he couldn’t seem to find his way free from. You had to find a way to get him out of this rut he found himself in.
Not even bothering to take care of the dishes, you grabbed Wally’s hands and led him back towards the couch. Taking a seat, you pulled him down with you and rested your head on his chest. Wally’s hand found its place on your waist, holding you close on his lap as you turned on the television, and found the perfect thing to get his mind off the game.
The mind numbing mediocreness that is known as Dora the Explorer.
Wally snorted a little, and pulled you closer. “Dora, really?”
“I think you need to work on your Spanish babe,” you teased, pecking his cheek.
“It can’t be that bad,”
“We’ll decide that at the end,”
Rolling his eyes, Wally relaxed with you in his hold as he watched the T.V. The short program seemed to be just what he needed, the mundane task of watching a children’s show and poking at him to participate when Dora asked for help.
“Babe, I’m not saying it.”
“Wally, Dora clearly needs your help.”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not doing it.”
Raising a brow, you turned him to look at you. “I’ll give you a kiss if you do,”
You watched as the thought passed through his mind, Wally side-eyeing the T.V. before turning to you. “Swiper, no swiping.”
Ever so softly, you leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his lips, before looking at him with a smile.
“Swiper, no swiping.” he said again, with a hint of his humor returning to his voice.
You obliged, and leaned in for a kiss again, this one lasting a second longer than the last. Wally’s hold on your waist tightened slightly, before he relaxed again.
“Swiper, no swiping.” he said again, his eyes not leaving you.
“You’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me now,”
“Am not, Dora has to say it three times before Swiper goes away.”
Turning so you’re straddling his lap, you pressed a third kiss to his lips. This time Wally held your waist with both hands, keeping you closer long enough he could inhale your scent as he kissed you.
Pulling away, you couldn’t fight the smile at his wide eyes. Every time you kissed him, he looked like it was your first all over again. You never got tired of the adoring look on his face.
“Nicely done babe, you got rid of Swiper.” you teased, poking his chest.
“¡Lo hicimos!”
“Now you’re just looking for an excuse,” you giggled,
“Dora says it every episode, I’m learning, see?” he hummed expectantly, looking at your lips he craved so much at this point.
Gripping your waist tightly, Wally watched as you leaned in and gave him another kiss. This one was different from the others, it was more urgent and needy than before, almost like you didn’t want to stop.
“Eres hermosa”,
“I don’t think you learned that from Dora, Wally.” you giggled,
“I’m pretty sure I did,” he grinned, knowing full well you couldn’t resist kissing him again.
“You’re insufferable,” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him once again. This time, Wally didn’t intend to let you go so soon.
Having you on his lap was driving him insane, but he had to control his urges. You were just wanting to cheer him up, not have sex. Not wanting to lose it, Wally moved a hand to cradle your head.
Big mistake.
The cute little noise you made sent all the blood rushing straight to his dick Wally was sure you could feel pressing against your thigh now. Pulling back from the kiss, Wally could feel your breath fanning over his face as you panted to catch your breath.
The smell of you enveloped him, making it harder to not flip you and fuck you right there on the couch. He had to find a way to calm down, not wanting to make you do something you didn’t want.
You weren’t sure what was going through his mind, but you watched all thoughts halt as you reached down to grasp his cock in your hand, pulling a pathetic whine from his lips.
“Babe–” he gasped, against your lips.
“Yes?” you tilted your head to press a kiss to his cheek.
“You-You sure you w–want this?” he stammered, trying to hold back his moans from you fondling him through his pants.
Stopping your movements, you leaned back to look at him. “I’m the one who just grabbed your dick, and you’re the one asking me if I want to?”
Wally’s ears went pink.
“Do I need to grind on it for you to get the hint?” you grinned.
“No, but I would not complain. Maybe if you sit on my face, I might.”
You slapped his arm, giggling as he waggled his eyebrows.
Tightening his grip on you, Wally grinned. “Hurt me good, Babe.”
Raising a brow at him, you pushed Wally back onto the couch and watched as he landed with wide eyes looking up at you. Adjusting your hips, you grinned seeing the shocked look on Wally’s face.
“What’s the matter babe, cat got your tongue?”
Wally leaned back into the couch, watching as you moved your hips up his body slowly left speechless at your actions. Before he knew it, your thighs were beside his head, giving him a perfect view up your skirt.
Hooking your thumbs into the band of your underwear, Wally watched as you slowly slid them down your hips, his mouth watering at the sight of your soaked pussy.
Once you got them down to your legs, Wally helped you get them off and tossed them across the room. Running your hands down his chest, you felt Wally shudder under your touch as you lowered your hips onto his face.
His hands came up to grip your hips, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Wally lapped his tongue through your folds, pulling you impossibly closer to his face, listening to the sweet moans coming from you. You were sure his hands were going to leave marks from how tight he was gripping you.
"If you behave, maybe I'll let you do the same to me."
Immediately, Wally’s tongue picked up the pace as he tried to taste every inch of you he could.
Gripping the bottom of his shirt, you rocked your hips into his face moaning as he ate you out like it was his last meal.
“Oh–Just like that baby,” you moaned, closing your eyes and tossing your head back. “Such a good boy for me.”
Wally whined at the nickname, your name lost on his tongue as he continued as you canted your hips against his face. The raunchy sounds of Wally’s tongue entering and suckling all he could out of you.
Leaning forward, you slowly unzipped Wally’s pants hearing him groan softly at the release of his jeans. Letting out a low moan, you mouthed at this length of his cock your breath fanning over his crotch.
“Does my good boy want me to suck his cock?” you asked, gripping his thighs tightly as you slowly lost yourself in the pleasure of Wally’s tongue on your pussy.
Wally bucked his hips in response, pulling you lower onto his face not caring one bit about coming up for air. If he wanted, Wally could live out the rest of his days with his face buried between your thighs, lapping at your sweet cunt and listening to the pretty sounds you made for him.
Pulling his pants and his boxers down, you stroked your finger and thumb up and down his cock, smearing the precum over his shaft before taking it into your mouth.
Wally moaned loudly, digging his fingers into the supple flesh of your thighs as you swallowed his cock. Bobbing your head, you felt Wally melt under your touch as he continued to eat your pussy.
Rocking your hips, you whined around his cock feeling the familiar build up of your orgasm. Your cries were muffled as you chased your high, unable to focus on Wally’s cock in your mouth. Wally felt your walls tighten around his tongue, before you released on his face coating it in your juices.
Wally moaned, lapping up every bit he could, savoring every drop. Swallowing all he could, Wally lifted your hips.
“Ba–Babe,” he gasped in between breaths. “Turn over, now.”
You barely heard his request before you were flipped onto your back and Wally was shoving his cock down your throat. A loud moan left him as he thrusted his hips, listening to the wet sounds of you choking on his cock.
Looking down at you, Wally saw the fucked out look on your face and grinned. “Look at my baby girl taking my cock so well,” he hummed.
“Should I reward her?”
There were muffled pleas from you, followed by gagging as Wally shoved his cock deeper. Leaning down, Wally licked a strip between your folds that had you squealing around his shaft. Wally loved the taste of your pussy, your release sweet on his tongue as he devoured you.
Moving his hips, Wally continued to lap at your wall and press his thumb to your clit as he nipped at your folds slightly. Each one had you curling your toes and kicking your legs.
Feeling his balls tighten, Wally moaned against your pussy as he continued to move his hips.
“Just a little more baby,” he hummed, kissing your cunt. “Just a little more and you can have my cock all you want, okay?”
Thrusting his hips, Wally moaned your name as he cummed down your throat, before you cried out and reached your climax.
Thoroughly exhausted, Wally carefully rolled off you and flipped around before pulling you close. Placing kisses all over your face, Wally began taking his shirt and pants off. Once done, Wally pressed a kiss to every bit of exposed skin as he helped you get the rest of your clothes off, covering you in kisses still before slowly slipping his cock into you.
Letting out a low moan, Wally held you close and kissed your shoulder. “So fucking perfect, just for me.”
“Imagine how I feel,” you gasped, clenching around his shaft as you adjusted to his girth.
“After we nap, I promise to fuck you properly baby.”
Leaning back into him, you hummed. “I look forward to it.”
A couple hours later, and some wonderful wake-up sex, you and Wally were tangled up on the couch in a woolen blanket knitted by Wally’s mother, whom you’ve met and had dinner with.
Wally’s face was nuzzled into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
His hair tickled your face making you giggle, “Wally, what are you doing?”
“Loving you,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your tacky skin.
Stroking your fingers through his hair, you held him close. “You still aren’t thinking about the game are you?”
Wally’s sudden silence gave you all the confirmation you needed.
“Babe, you can’t let them get to you.”
“Y/N, you haven’t seen what these people are capable of.”
Raising a brow, you turned your head to look at him. “I’ve shown you what people have said about me being your girlfriend, do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
“Probably something like this?” he muttered, peeking an eye to look up at you.
“Something of the sort, yeah. It never gets any easier, but knowing I get to come home to you every day makes it that much more worth it.”
Wally stayed silent, thinking over your words and of course you were right but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. Wally had an ego to protect after all.
Instead, he snuggled closer to you.
“You know I love you right?”
A small smile formed on your lips. “Of course I do, and I love you too, Wally.”
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#Costly Affairs#Wally West#Wally West smut#Wally West x reader#wally west x you#wally west x y/n#wally west reader insert#wally west fic#wally west fanfic#wally west fanfiction#the flash#the flash smut#the flash x you#the flash x reader#the flash x y/n#the flash reader insert#the flash fic#the flash fanfic#the flash fanfiction
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With no safety net
CHAPTER 1: “tell me why I get this feeling?”
Warnings: mentions of smut
Word count: 2.1K
——————————————————————
“Come on, we’re already late!” Amara shouted from the hallway as she finished layering her fragrance with some final sprays of her vanilla perfume and put her coat on before grabbing her gift bag.
“Okay, okay! I’m coming, woman, calm down” her best friend replied in a teasing tone as she checked her makeup for the last time.
Amara was invited to her cousin Dylan's get together. Normally, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hang out with him and his friends since the hangouts only consisted of her listening to Dylan and his macho friends talking about stuff she wasn’t even interested in, but she couldn’t let him down when she already had turned him down too many times before. So she brought her friend with her to be able to survive this soon to be, unbearable night.
Amara’s face lights up when she sees her friend finally coming out of the bathroom. “You look absolutely stunning, Court” she says as she hands her friend’s jacket to her
“Yeah as if I don’t have a goddess of a friend standing right next to me” she says back as they exit Amara’s apartment
“You’re still delusional, I see”
“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re pretty damn gorgeous but it seems like your dumbass doesn’t want to realize it” she argues back and gets in the passenger's seat once they reach Amara’s car. “And my name isn’t Courtney if you don’t end up getting a guy’s number tonight” she states as she raises her finger at her friend before putting her seatbelt on.
Amara lets out a snort as she begins to drive. “Getting guys at my cousins little get together is the last thing on my mind right now”
“Come on, you're 25 and you don’t have a boyfriend. That’s like, genuinely sad. And alarming. It’s been almost two years since Chris. You gotta move on, Amara”
“Okay, first of all, there’s nothing wrong with being single at 25. Second of all, if I decide to start dating again it will not be with Dylan's mediocre ass friends that can’t even hold a five minute conversation with me without pissing me off” she blurted before turning her puzzled face to her best friend, “And when did you start getting all therapeutic on me? I’m dealing with myself just fine”
Courtney just sighs because she knows that’s a lie by how defensive Amara is acting. “Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been through hell and back but you can’t let that ruin it for you. Not everyone brings bad luck with them, you know” She takes a pause before sarcastically saying, “What, you’re gonna let the severe trauma of losing your parents on the same day and having a cheating ex fiance going to hold you back for popping that pussy?”
Amara tries to contain her laugh that is threatening to come out because she’s supposed to be irritated at her friend, but she gives in with them both feeling comfortable with this level of banter. “I fucking hate you”
“Yeah, yeah whatever helps you sleep at night” she jokingly waves off as they’re looking for a place to park the car and finally find an empty spot. “Are you sure I look okay?” Courtney asks as she checks herself on her phone's camera.
“Tryna look good for the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi again?”
Courtney snorts out a laugh and playfully slaps Amara’s arm. “His name is Sebastian and yes. So last chance, do I look good or not?”
Amara takes a closer look at her face and smudges off some mascara that has moved its way to her eyelid and says her final words of assurance to her friend before they get out of her car and walk up to Dylan’s porch. Amara rings at the door, mentally preparing for a whole night of having to be social. Shortly after, the door opens and she’s met by her cousin and his excited grin.
“Long time no fucking see, cuz” he says and pulls her in for a short embrace before letting them in and giving Courtney a familiar handshake. He takes their jackets and hangs them before turning to Amara again. “Whatcha got there for me?” he says as his gaze is plastered on the gift bag in her hand.
“Just a little something”
“I bet on my whole bank account it’s a perfume set” he says and takes the bag to open it, to see that it in fact, was another perfume set. “I swear, that perfume obsession you got in junior year hasn’t left you for shit” he says as he holds out the Versace set.
“It’s not like you ever complain though?” Amara playfully says
He chuckles, “Touche. Thanks, really” he says and gives her an affectionate squeeze on her arm before leading them to the living room where everyone was sitting and chatting over the background noise of a football game from the TV, including Tyler. He had known that Dylan would bring his cousin and that he spoke very highly of her. But as soon as she walked in with her friend next to her, he was caught up. Dylan didn’t mention that she was so beautiful.
Where had she been all this time and why the hell hadn’t Dylan introduced him to her earlier?
He could tell that he wasn’t the only one being mesmerized by her beauty as practically everyone rushed up from their seats on the couch and went to greet her, but they kept it respectable though, because Dylan had indeed warned them to behave when she and her friend would come over. Many friendly handshakes and shallow hugs towards her and her friend later, he stood up from his seat to greet her too.
God, she was gorgeous. She had these black doe eyes that you just wanted to look at forever and the way her plump lips smiled as she greeted everyone and the way she had freckles scattered across her cheeks that made her face look adorable. And let’s not get started on her hair. It was the most beautiful and unique color he had ever seen, a mixture between copper red and brown that ran down so softly down her back. He was done for. He was down. Real bad. He finally caught her attention as he walked up to her, towering her by his 6 foot 3 height as Dylan introduced her to him .
“Amara, this is Tyler. Remember that Australian guy I talked about last time we met?”
“Yeah, right.” she said in a recognizable tone. “Nice to meet you” she shot him a friendly smile, locking her gaze with his.
Now, she was never a crushy person but she’d be fucking dumb if she said this man wasn’t fine. He was a hunk and he knew it. And he definitely knew what he was doing when he put that button down shirt on, hugging his muscles in all the right ways and revealing a bit more of his neck with a few buttons loose. Fuck, that trimmed beard too. She was a sucker for beards.
He shot her a smile back, with almost a seductive look on his face. “Nice to meet you too. You got a beautiful name”. He tried to stay as cool as possible so it wouldn’t look like he was genuinely going crazy like he was as soon as he got a closer look at her with that whiff of her fragrance too.
Yep, she was definitely interested now. She knew that wasn’t an innocent compliment and that deep, husky voice with his Australian accent was too hot to not be attracted by. But she wasn’t down that bad though, it would take a lot more than his attractive demeanor to get her to really swoon over him, or any man for that matter. And Dylan probably sensed the tension as he cut them off, not wanting to go through the same hassle that happens every time his friends tried to flirt with her as he thought she wasn’t interested.
“Alright so now when everyone’s here, let's sit down” he says as he leads Amara to the couch, not even bothering to include Courtney as she has made herself comfortable with her guy a long time ago, too impatient to wait for Amara. As Amara gets seated between Dylan and the armrest of the couch, she shoots a “I thought you were going to stick by my side?” look to her best friend across the room, who currently had the time of her life flirting with her charming brunette as she shoots back a “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna stick by your side and get in between whatever you and that tall blondie have” look, making Amara hold back her grin as she understood what Courtney was saying just by the look she gave, a result of them knowing each other too damn well for their own good. As she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Tyler just had to take a seat on the couch that was facing her sideways, being completely in her sight at all times. It’s like he was doing it on purpose, choosing the closest seat next to her, the armrests of their couches touching each other.
Oh, this was going to be a night to remember.
The night went on and Amara just sat there and listened to the conversation being spoken, occasionally smiling and laughing with everyone else, not being aware of the glances Tyler stole from her everytime she showed any sign of smiling just to see that dimple pop out every time on her left cheek. She was divine.
And Amara wasn't any better herself, giving him quick looks from time to time when he wouldn’t know she was watching and admiring his neck tattoo every chance she got. She couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to resemble as she never got a good look on it, but it looked like three stripes running up his neck sideways. Were they arrows, maybe? Well, whatever they were, it undeniably made him look hotter. So extra points for that. He just went from looking kinda fine to fine.
Other than stealing glances from Tyler, Amara’s night continued by just listening to conversations. Courtney had left doing God knows what with the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi and Amara just couldn't wait until she got home and started to regret that she even chose to come. She was never much of a talker anyway, especially not in front of many people and especially not when the whole room was filled with so much testosterone and boring topics that were typically guy talk. It seemed like Tyler wasn’t much of a talker too since he rarely talked. In fact, she hadn’t heard him fully speak since their interaction. Another few points to the hot Australian. She never liked it when a man was overly talkative anyway. Maybe he could get it if he ever decided to shoot his shot at her.
Time went by and people started to leave as she got tired of all the babbling and got up from her seat to go to the kitchen on the other side of the house so she could find some sense of peace and quietness, lying about going to grab a drink and come back despite Dylan stopping her and saying that the kitchen is too warm because some problems with the ductwork. Of course, Tyler saw this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to her so he decided to follow after her, but not right away though. He didn’t want to come off as too desperate even though he lowkey was. But she couldn’t know that.
When the right amount of time had passed he got up from his seat, leaving the living room.
“You’re also going to the kitchen?” Dylan asks him with a teasing grin while pointing his beer bottle at him before swinging it to his mouth, knowing exactly what Tyler’s intentions are. “Look, I’m not gonna stop you or anything but just know that my cousin- she’s no weak flower, and she won’t hesitate to put you into your place if she doesn’t like you or if you make her uncomfortable. She’s not easy”
Why did he find that extremely attractive?
Smirking, he made his way to the kitchen with his desire to have her stronger than ever. Usually, he’d go for the tall and blonde bombshells that he barely had to fight for. But there was just something about her that just drew him in and made him forget about the blondes he’d call beautiful, because their beauty was nothing compared to her. Fuck, she had only spoken four words to him and he was going fucking crazy for her. What the hell have you done to me?
#chris hemsworth x reader#chris hemsworth smut#chris hemsworth fanfiction#chris hemsworth fanfic#chris hemsworth#tyler rake x female reader#tyler rake drabble#tyler rake x you#tyler rake fic#tyler rake fanfiction#tyler rake smut#tyler rake x reader#tyler rake#extraction fanfiction
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When looking for fanfics on AO3, specifically ones catered to your taste in a fandom/interest, how do you go about? Any tips on how to scout “good” stories from than “mediocre”?
First off, make sure you know what you want and what you're looking for! Choose your fandom, what characters you want to see, what relationships (romantic are A/J, platonic are A&J for formatting), rating, length, any of those that you have a specific preference for, make it known! When searching AO3 on PC, there's a whole bar of drop-down menus so you can choose all of these things you want to include AND anything you want to exclude:
If a tag you want to see or avoid isn't there, there's a place to search for and then add it as well. You also have a few options for how the fics you get are sorted as well - update date, word count, kudos count, comments, bookmarks, etc. There are also a few more options, but the image is already big enough - seriously, AO3 lets you customize your search so much, even if you don't add AO3dr to use their blacklisting function.
Myself, I usually put in my relationship preferences, exclude a few warnings, then organize by number of bookmarks or comments. I'll do a quick scan of the first three to four pages, clicking the 'mark for later' button inside the fics on anything that seems promising until I have anywhere between eight and a couple dozen fics.
After that? The reading begins, but the process isn't over! Because if one of the fics I read turns out to be really good, the next step isn't to go back to my 'marked for later' list, it's to go to the writer's dashboard, see if they've written anything else for this fandom that sounds good, read anything of theirs that sounds good, and when I'm finished that check their bookmarks page for anything they've read and bookmarked for this fandom, marking things for later until I've gone through the whole thing, then choosing a new fic from my now (hopefully) expanded marked for later list and repeating the whole process all over again. This generally keeps me, at least, well fed and well read when it comes to fics!
Sometimes I also add my preferences in the AO3 search and just take a peek at what's come out recently, even if it's incomplete - yes, you'll be left wanting at times if the story's unfinished, but it's worth it to get to accompany other writers and readers on the journey of a really good ongoing fic and getting a delightful update notification in you inbox from time to time. :D
(I should note, what makes a fic 'good' or 'mediocre' is at least partially subjective. I've seen loads of fics that have obviously been widely read and well loved by many, but they weren't to my taste.)
Also, keep in mind the age of the fan base a piece of media is aimed towards - The Owl House is generally going to have a lower overall quality of writing than, say, Ace Attorney, not because one is objectively superior to the other (they're both fantastic and I would pay money to see Phoenix defend Eda in court), but because one's aimed at kids and young teens and the other's aimed at older teens and adults. And one of these demographics is going to have had more practice with writing than the other. It's worth going through both still, they both have plenty of great fics, but it helps to enter a younger-aimed fandom with a more lenient frame of mind.
Anyway, that's all the advice that I've got, and I hope it helps! Thanks for the ask!
#fandom#ao3#fanfiction#ask#anon#I specifically only cover AO3 because I have abandoned fanfiction.net#and I have no idea how to make any other website spit out what I want on command including this one <3
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Heaven and Hell (Chapter 5) ~ e.m.
A/N: This will be the final part for now but I do really love this story so I will be updating after the holidays!
Summary: Noah and Eddie finally have a heart to heart and realize
Warnings: 18+ for mature content, angst, unedited MESS, mentions of drug abuse, depression, reference to child birth, language, dummies in love, mentions of alcohol, (let me know if I miss anything!)
Word Count: 3k
(Divider by @silkholland)
SERIES MASTERLIST
AO3
Eddie’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel at this moment. Relief, maybe? But all he feels is…loss. Loss of something he never really had. Loss for something he never really knew he wanted until just a few hours prior.
The tears that have been stinging right behind his eye finally fall free but he’s not completely sure he knows why.
Was he mad at the prospect of her keeping such a big secret from him? Yes of course! But was a piece of him hoping it was true? A little bit...
He would’ve been able to get over the fact she lied rather quickly, probably faster than he’d like to admit, and then they would be able to start off right where they left off. They could finally be a family. He would be a dad. And he wouldn’t hold it against her –no– because they had all reacted to their trauma differently.
He recalls seeing a trauma counselor after he got out of the hospital, and he remembers her saying that he shouldn’t get frustrated with his friends' reactions. Some people tend to retreat or run away but that is just how they cope with things. And Eddie could forgive her because he had already forgiven her the second she left him.
He turns his head to the side, using his long hair as a type of curtain to briefly wipe away a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry,” He sniffs, “I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. I was drinking and Harrington said these things that just got caught up in my head and I–” He stops when he feels the bed dip down next to him. He turns and sees that she’s no longer standing in front of him but lying down across the bed horizontally, legs leaning off the sides. Her hands are on her stomach as she stares up at the ceiling.
“His name is Ben.” She begins as she stares straight up at the ceiling, “When I first got to New York City, I wasn’t…I wasn’t handling myself well after…everything. I had trouble sleeping, I kept having these nightmares about–,” She pauses before visibly swallowing and taking a deep breath, “about what happened in the Upside Down. But it was different. It was what could have happened.
“I tried to put myself into my college work, but working two jobs while being a full time student left little time for sleep. Which was fine by me,” She scoffs quietly, “because the last thing I wanted to do was relieve all of it every time I closed my eyes. So I found some people on campus, they sold pills and stuff. Stuff to keep you awake during exams and shit. I started taking that, but turns out sleep deprivation isn’t the best creative tool.” She turned her head to look towards Eddie, a dead look in her eyes, “I flunked out. I was only two semesters in. Couldn’t even make it the whole year.”
Eddie is shocked by this revelation. She was always the most creative person he knew. She had helped in writing his campaigns for years. He remembers how she came back from after her first semester at community college with straight A’s, her professors telling her that at this rate, she might even be able to get a scholarship to finish up at a four year university.
Eddie shook his head, “No. No, you’re an amazing writer. That college can go fuck itself.”
She snorts, “No, they were right. It was as if every single ounce of creativity had left my body. I had major writer's block. My work was mediocre at best and they saw right through it.”
Eddie laid down on the bed beside her, staring up at the plain white ceiling just as she did. They only lay inches apart but he was hyper aware of just how close she was.
“I felt like I had hit rock bottom. My parents were all the way upstate and I didn’t have a lot of friends because I was working so much. But then I met this guy,” Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat but he tries not to make a sound as she continues, “I’ll spare you all the details but–”
“Much appreciated.” He couldn’t help himself and she brought her hand up to knock into his side a bit. They both huff out a laugh.
“I guess, I don’t know, we weren’t careful but it only takes one time, ya know?” He knew it was a rhetorical question but he hums back in response anyway.
“We weren’t even officially dating or anything, I think it was just a pass time until we both found something better. He told me he didn’t want a baby. And I told him that was fine but I did. There wasn’t a big blow out or anything, he just didn’t want to be involved and that was that.”
Eddie turns his head to look at her while she continues, “I thought maybe it was a gift from the universe or something.” She scoffs, “After all the bad things that we’ve been through; all the pain and the hurt, that maybe this was going to be a good thing. I had literally been through hell and back so motherhood would surely be a walk in the park.” She finally turns to look at him, “It isn’t.”
She looks back up to the ceiling, “Scarlett came early because she’s just as stubborn as her mother. My due date wasn’t for another three weeks and I was still packing up my apartment to move in with my parents upstate. I woke up thinking I peed my fucking pants but turns out that was just her.” He watches as she smiles gently at the memory.
“I was fucking terrified.” She whispers into the quiet room, “I had called my parents but they were hours away and the doctor said I needed to start pushing right away.” She stops, reaching out a hand to grab a hold of his, he squeezes it to let her know he’s still listening, and more importantly, he’s still there. “I was so scared something would go wrong. I was scared something would happen and she would be all alone just like I was in the nightmares.” Noah’s voice becomes shakier as she continues, “There was a split second after she was born, where it felt like the earth had stood still. The room was so quiet even with all the monitors going and all the different doctors and nurses. I could’ve sworn something was wrong, I was so scared I had lost her before I even had her.” Her voice breaks, and Eddie watches as she closes her eyes to let the tears fall.
He leans up on the arm of the hand she’s holding using his free hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She opens her eyes and smiles at him, squeezing his hand and unintentionally squeezing his heart. “And then she let out the biggest fucking scream I’ve ever heard. And it was the best song I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Eddie grins, lifting their clasped hands to leave a kiss on the back of hers. He fears slightly that it may not have been appropriate but she doesn’t seem to mind as she stares up into his eyes.
“Better than Metallica?” He quips and another tear falls from her eye as she laughs.
“So much fucking better, Eds.” He chuckles with her as he feels a tear run down his cheek. She frowns when she sees it, reaching up with her free hand to wipe it away.
“I would’ve been there for you,” He mumbles into the back of their clasped hands but he knows she can hear him.
“You would’ve been there while I gave birth to another mans’ child?” She asks genuinely.
And he doesn’t even need a second before answering, “Of course I would have.”
A new set of tears roll down her cheeks as she nods. “I’m sorry, Eds.”
“For what?”
“For leaving the way I did,” She leans towards him so they're both face to face, hands still clasped together, “I was so scared after Vecna. Everything changed so fast and I couldn’t help but feel like you getting dragged into all of it was somehow my fault.”
“Baby–” The name slips out before he can stop himself, but she shakes her head, silencing him.
“I know, I know what you’re going to say and I know you’re right but our brains have a funny way of tricking us sometimes.” He nods along as she continues, “I thought my whole life that I just wanted to get out of Hawkins. I thought this whole town was holding me back but in reality, everything I ever wanted, ever needed, was always right here.” She brings her free hand up to brush her thumb across his damp cheek before noticing a rogue curl and putting it behind his ear.
“I wished she was yours.” Eddie just blinks at her confession, his grip tightening on her hand, “I knew the timeline wasn’t right, but a part of me thought maybe but–”
“And there’s absolutely no chance?”
She shakes her head solemnly, “We didn’t sleep together at all after Vecna. Your wounds–and, and I just wasn’t–”
“No, I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just had to ask.” She gives him a smile but he can see it's full of pity and he doesn’t like it one bit. “Steve said,” He clears his throat, “Steve said she had brown curls and eyes like mine.”
“She does have brown curls, big and unruly but I guess I just have a type.” Eddie turns away and huffs but she places her hand back on his cheek to look at her, “Sorry…But Harrington’s an idiot.”
Eddie laughs for real at that and reaches down to pull off an imaginary string off the quilted comforter they lay on, “You don’t have to tell me that.”
“Because last time I checked you and I both had brown eyes,” She runs her thumb across Eddie’s eyebrow, “and Scarlett’s eyes are blue.”
Eddie feels all the hopefulness wash out of him at once. He feels like something is sitting on his chest and he swears his heart physically hurts.
He chuckles humorlessly, “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed,” He confesses “I’ve never even met her.”
“It wasn’t because–I don’t want you to think I slept with Ben because I stopped loving you or something. I was hurting and he was there and–”
Eddie sits up completely, pulling her up with him. He takes her face in both of his hands, “Hey, hey–It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I know, but it was so soon after I left I just don’t want you to think–”
“Hey,” He brushes his thumb across her cheek, “I don’t think. Ever. You know that.” She pushes his shoulder gently but immediately pulls him back towards her. She stares at him for a few moments before finally admitting, “I wish I never left Hawkins.”
“Mhm,” He shakes his head, “Don’t say that. If you never left Hawkins, you wouldn’t have Scarlett. We were all much younger back then and we didn’t know how to deal with everything we saw–everything we went through. And you’re here now. That’s what’s important.”
She pulls him in for a hug, one that is four years overdue. He takes in her scent, the feeling of her arms around him, and sends a prayer out to whatever deity that is listening to never take her away from him again.
It’s different this time. It has to be.
She pulls away much too fast for his liking, her eyes widen as she catches something over his shoulder. He turns around quickly spotting the old alarm clock that now reads 12:32am.
“Oh shit, I’ve got to go.” Noah jumps off the bed, pulling her dress down as she wipes at her cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Carriage turns into a pumpkin after midnight?” She rolls her eyes at him as she opens the door, he’s up on his feet quickly as he realizes she’s serious.
“I’ve got to open up the shop tomorrow.”
“Shop doesn’t open until 10.”
“I know, but I’m going in early to help Pop reorganize some financial shit and I still have to get Scarlett up and ready for school before the bus comes.” She scurries down the stairs and he follows down just as fast. The party seems to be back in full swing, Eddie’s little meltdown in the kitchen seemingly long forgotten. That is until he catches Max’s eye as she leans against one of the walls while talking to Eleven.
Eddie notes that he should also be adding Maxs’ name to the list of super awesome Christmas gifts.
Noah slides between anonymous bodies, scooching past a game of beer pong and into the living room where Robin and Steve yell loudly to the pop song blaring on the speakers.
Eddie stops himself just out of the living room, pausing because what was he actually even doing? It was muscle memory, following behind Noah as she said her goodbyes to their group of friends for the both of them. But that was then and this is now.
Eddie leans against the wallpaper, hoping to somehow blend in with the light blue design even when he’s dressed head to toe in black. The music is too loud and Noah is too far away so he can’t hear what she says to Steve and Robin but all three of them look over and make eye contact with Eddie. He can’t read the expressions on their faces but Noah’s lips curl up just a bit as she turns her back to him again. Whatever she says next seems to satisfy the two drunk adults as they both wrap their arms around to pull her in for an awkward three person, six limbed hug.
Eddie relaxes just a bit when Robin offers him a wave, seemingly forgiven for his episode earlier. He returns the wave, mouthing out a ‘happy birthday’ to which she responds by pointing at him and continuing singing her heart out to the song.
He loses track of Noah quickly, bodies crowding the living room as a new chart topper pounds against the speakers. Eddie lifts himself on his tiptoes just the slightest bit, looking out for her red dress in the crowd–hoping and praying she didn’t leave without saying goodbye.
He feels a familiar hand reach out for his bicep, giving him a reassuring squeeze when he finally makes eye contact with Noah who now stands beside him with her own leather jacket back on her shoulders.
“It was nice seeing you tonight, Eddie.” She removes her hand quickly, placing it into the safety of her pocket as she turns around.
“Wait!” He calls out too loudly and she jumps slightly at the intrusion of his voice, “Sorry–I–” His words fumble a bit in his mouth before he finally finds what he wants to say, “Let me walk you out?”
Noah smiles slightly as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows where they were nearly touching on his forehead, a tell tale sign that he was nervous.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I was just about to head out anyway.” The lie comes out easy and Eddie can tell she doesn’t believe it but he hopes she won’t call him out on it. She nods her head, biting at her cheek as she turns towards the door.
His fingers drum an erratic beat on his legs as they walk out of the house together. He holds the door open for her and she steps around him, mumbling out a thanks as they walk out into the chilly summer night.
The only light around them is the street lights and the lights coming from the inside of Harrington’s house but they both could walk this path blind. He’s surprised to see she is still driving the same car she had back in high school, it had barely worked then and it looks like it was running on the last of its legs even now.
“I can’t believe this thing is still running,” Eddie runs his hand over the hood as he follows her to the driver side door. The color of the car now is more of a rust color than the light blue it had originally been.
“She gets the job done.” Noah chuckles, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and inserting them into the door. The car door squeals in protest and Eddie thinks that a good gust of wind could probably blow it right off its hinges.
Noah turns around to him, Eddie finally realizing he’s standing a little too close and takes a step back.
“I’ll um, I’ll see you around, yeah?” His arms itch to wrap around her waist and pull her in for a hug but he restrains himself, taking another step back and shoving his hands into his pant pockets.
“Yeah, of course…” They stare at each other for a minute and she opens her mouth but quickly clamps it shut. He watches in silence as she slides into her car. He pinches his leg through his pants to try to stop himself from saying something stupid–like asking her when exactly he’ll see her again.
She reaches out for the car door letting out a small “Good night, Eddie,” before it closes between them. His heart does a little flip and his stomach feels like it's swarming with bats as he kicks at the road with his sneakers.
He backs away from her car, letting out a deep sigh as he watches her fiddle with the keys through the window.
He wants to stop her–wants to pull the engine out of her car with his bare hands to prevent her from leaving so he can spend just a few more moments with her. Because he had spent over a thousand days without her and he can honestly say he doesn’t love her any less than the day she left.
She was his entire heart and even though she had broken it in two, he knew that she would also be the only person to repair it again.
He reaches for his trusty pack of cigarettes in his back pocket as he hears the sound of her engine turning over, except it never fully does. He watches as she turns the key over and over only for the car to make a terrible clinking sound and shut off.
And Eddie thinks maybe, just maybe, Fate is on his side for once in his life.
A/N: Please let me know your thoughts so far, even if you hate it, please tell me on anon so I can get better!
#Eddie munson#Eddie munson x reader#Eddie munson x afab reader#Eddie munson x female reader#Eddie munson x fem!reader#Eddie munson fluff#Eddie munson angst#Eddie munson blurb#Eddie munson fix it fic#Eddie munson smut#Eddie munson one shot#Eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson imagine#Eddie munson x oc#Eddie munson x ofc#Eddie munson fanfiction#Eddie munson oneshot#Eddie munson x reader smut#stranger things#stranger things 4
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Riku's Random Life: Wedding Rant!?
Have I ever told you I absolutely hate weddings? I absolutely cannot fathom what people like about them. Why do we throw lavish parties just to promise someone that we plan to spend the rest of our life with them! There is absolutely no added value there. They are just an absolute waste of money! Nothing enjoyable about them at all. Long and boring ceremonies, ridiculous speeches that expose every stupid thing you ever did, annoying dress codes, mediocre food... Do I need to go on? I personally don't see the point.
Getting married is one thing, but a wedding...
Do you know what's worse than attending a wedding as a guest?
It's planning a wedding!
And there isn't even anything to plan! Or, rather... There wasn't supposed to be anything to plan! Other than contacting the city hall and getting the legalities of the ceremony sorted.
Ah yes, I'm getting married...
Thankfully my fiancée has always agreed with me that weddings are a waste of money. So it was never going to be a lavish party. Just a small group of guests, a short ceremony, and then dinner in some restaurant. Anything more and I'd probably not survive the day without some kind of meltdown.
To increase my survival rate, the restaurant has turned into "homemade cake and drinks in our living room after the ceremony".
It was all supposed to be simple, but then the questions started coming in. And it started driving me insane! As I feared, people have expectations of what a wedding is supposed to be... and I'm not having it!
What are you going to wear?
I'll probably order some dress online. One I might also wear in daily life. I'm not buying some expensive wedding dress for a 15-minute ceremony and a "reception" in my own living room! (Fiancée is aware of this.)
What's the dress code?
I don't fucking care. Just wear clothes. (Fiancée insisted on at least telling our guests to dress neatly.)
When will you send the (official) Wedding invitation cards?
I'm not sending any! Fuck off! It's a waste of money. You get an email or a text. Deal with it! (Thought we agreed on this, but then Fiancée said he wanted to send a physical card to his parents, because they love cards... After initially refusing to make an exception for such a ridiculous reason, I begrudgingly agreed to let him send invitation cards to our parents. I reminded myself it is his wedding too. I don't get to decide everything by myself. I still think the cards are unnecessary.)
Where are going for your honeymoon?
We're not going on a honeymoon. We're still planning to visit Japan later this year, but that's got nothing to do with the wedding! (Fiancée has been calling our planned trip to Japan a honeymoon since before he even proposed though. It's not! We would still go, even if we weren't getting married.)
By now, every mention of my wedding is sending my anxiety levels through the roof, leaving me instantly exhausted!
This is why I didn't want a wedding ceremony! Just let me sign the paperwork and let's call it a day!
Yes, I get people who have questions. And yes, some of them make sense, but... when an Aunt, who isn't even invited, asked to be sent a wedding invitation card anyway... that blew my fuse! How does that make sense! I'm most definitely not sending invitations to people who aren't invited!
What also doesn't help is the fact that I wasn't given enough time to adjust to the idea of having a wedding. Yes, we originally planned to get married in September, but since my brother (who lives in Japan) was supposed to visit around that time. But when he still hadn't booked his tickets in begin July, I pretty much started assuming we would be delaying the wedding till next year, because time was running short and the city hall likely wouldn't be able to accommodate us on such short notice.
Lo and behold, my brother suddenly booked his plane tickets and somehow the city hall still has two dates available in September. So, a week before I'm to leave on a two-week camping trip my fiancée starts arranging the paperwork to get married in September after all. This is mid-July! We're getting married in the first week of September! I had to fill out the legal paperwork on my phone while camping!
The moment I returned home it was time to start considering what I would be wearing that day. After telling myself over and over again I'd buy something from within the country, I ended up ordering from Yesstyle after all. (Because it's so pretty and not too expensive!) I seem to do this every time a wedding comes up, be it my own or someone else's. I tell myself to get something from within the country, or at least within Europe, but then I end up ordering from Yesstyle after all, because they just always seem to have what I'm looking for. And each time I'll be eating myself up, because the delivery time is gonna cut it really close. So, if the dress doesn't fit, I'm screwed. And the tracking code isn't much use either, as I clearly won't be showing any updates until the package is basically on my doorstep already. (It's been stuck on "prenotification received" for nearly a week now.)
Ugh... best day of your life. Who came up with that! My own wedding is more likely to be the worst day ever, and I'll be glad when it's over.
I'll try to enjoy it, I will. But I fear the worst...
#Riku's Random Life#Getting sick of me already?#I really needed to get this off my chest#I absolutely hate weddings#My older brother's wedding was all right#But only because it gave me an excuse to visit Japan#Kind sucks that one did end with a trip to the hospital though#Youngest brother suddenly got incredibly ill#And I got to be the interpreter#I had been super ill in the days leading up to the wedding too#Was still recovering#Fun times#I want my wedding to be over already!
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@hawkinsp0st @paladin-n-cleric @anotherbylerstan you might wanna read this lmfao
(based on this post by @octobergrae and this ask)
(WARNING: my writing skills are mediocre, what you'll soon lay your eyes on is going to be anything but a masterpiece. also for context mike's still in hawkins for this one sorry theorists)
The last year has not been the year The Cali Crew's been expecting. First, a Russian exchange student named Mikhail Antonov arrived unexpectedly in Lenora Hills, California. He shared his story about his mother becoming indisposed. He was sent over to the Byers residence by his father but ever since then, he went MIA. Joyce willingly took him in, and the siblings were mostly indifferent. At least they had a new roommate for the time being.
He tried to fit in as well as he could, even if sometimes he wasn't as well-mannered as he should've been. Only when it came to Joyce Jane, and Jonathan. It's not as if he wasn't kind, mainly just uninterested. He spent his most of his free time with Will, Jane's and Jonathan's brother. He seemed different than the others. Not because he was seemingly the only young boy in the family, but because of his interests. It piqued Mikhail's own. Luckily, their personalities bounced off of each other successfully. A little too successfully.
Unfortunate events passed unfortunate events, there was bullying toward Jane that both of them felt the need to defend, but their legs were frozen. There was the Rink-O-Mania incident, which Mikhail and William watched firsthand in shock. Joyce and her odd friend Murray had to take a flight to Alaska, for a "conference". Mikhail had his suspicions but let go of them too quickly. Jane was arrested shortly after, and soon was taken in by a branch of the government by to help regain her powers. Everything had to be quickly explained to Mikhail in secret. There was a shootout performed at the Byers' home in which they narrowly escaped, and now the two of them were stuck in the back of a smelly pizza van trying to find El with Will's brother and his very high-as-a-kite friend.
Mikhail observed his surroundings. There was a random Domino's billboard Argyle was yelling at, Jonathan's determined but clearly tired face staring straight onto the road repeatedly asking his friend how far Nina was from Vegas, and Will's pensive face the floor was receiving. Maybe there was something wrong?
"Are you alright, Will?" Mikhail asked softly. He knew that Will usually responds to calm behavior. But it took him a while to register Mikhail's query.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a little worried, though. It's just--" Will started to spiral on his worries. "Dr. Owens could be doing anything to her right now, and I wouldn't know. I've filled you in on all the supernatural things, we all had to. You're aware that he wasn't able to help me. El could be dying right now and I wouldn't even know it. She could be in danger. They could've lied to me. I keep telling myself that she's going to be ok, but what if this is just all for naught? And we're doing this for nothing?"
"You cannot just stop telling yourself that. She is going to be alright, I promise. And when all of this is over, we can go back to normal, American, fun spring break stuff with her. Well, normal at your level anyway."
That got a chuckle out of Will. Is his speech working?
Will returned to his pensive state. That joke reminded him of somebody, but that wasn't important to him right now. He quickly turned to Mikhail. "Can I show you something?"
"Sure."
Will pulled out a long roll of paper, and hesitantly handed it over to Mikhail. He unfurled it slowly to reveal a painting. A desert landscape bathed in the orange and purple color of the sunset. The wispy clouds spelt "Dry as a California Summer". Mikhail took a small gulp in awe.
"This is beautiful. Did you paint this?" he asked with joy.
"Yeah. Well, there's no meaning to it. I just painted what came to mind." He sounded suspicious. Did he lie? He continued with a more nervous tone. "Dry as a California summer could mean anything. It could be literal or metaphorical. But you see how I used many colors here? It makes it anything but dry. It brings life to somebody's dried out being. Everybody has that person. Everybody needs that person to lean on. Because what will you have left if they're gone?"
His voice started to crack. "El means a lot to me, and I'd feel lost if I could never see her again. She's what brings the colors to my canvas when I slowly start to dry out. And she's stuck with me through thick and thin. But I'm also worried for her. Because she's not getting the care that she needs. Not from there. So if she were to come back home, that'd be fine with me." Tears escaped Will's eyes, much to his disappointment.
Mikhail understood. At least a little bit. But how was the painting allegedly based on El going missing and done all in the span of the time he had?
"I know she means a lot to you. We'll find her, alright?"
Mikhail clutches Will's hand and puts the painting by his side.
"We'll find her."
Will nodded to Mikhail's determination. Both of them felt a little flustered, since Mikhail's hand was locked with Will's for a little longer than it needed to be. Most of the rest of the trip was silent, in which both were afraid to break.
#oh this took me way too long#i give it an 8/10 myself#it's not as great as i'd like it to be#nonetheless i hope you do#byler#willhail#willhail fic#mikhailgate
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Jester’s Hat Pattern
I meant to post this on New Year’s Day. Oops. Hello, all 5 followers that aren’t bots! I typed that sentence and realized I haven’t been checking for bots in my sideblog. To be fair, I haven’t been doing a great job of posting to my crochetblr at all since I started it. Let this be the beginning of a year of more-or-less monthly patterns! More updates on the quilt! More one-off posts! This is the year of crochet!
Some of you may have noticed that I changed this blog's title last year. I felt that "NotUrGrannySquares" didn't fit me. I didn't really like it at the beginning, but it's the all I could think of (and it wasn't too creative, since I only spelt it "Ur" because "NotYourGrannySquares" was taken--not to mention, there are plenty of patterns out there with similar names). As I began to collect a few pieces from my mom and grandma for my quilt, I felt more at odds with the blog name: these are my granny's squares! I posted this one a while ago, but the other two from her are waffle stitch samples. One is incomplete, using a merino wool yarn, and the other she fished out of the kitchen when I asked if I could incorporate the wool one into the quilt, and it’s clearly a polyester because it’s slightly melted in the center where it had been holding hot things. I’m obsessed with the texture that’s resulted.
I landed on “crochety” because I’ve described myself as a crotchety old man, the word “crotchety” shares origins with the word “crochet,” and I liked how Dictionary.com defined it.
crotchety adjective
1. given to odd notions, whims, grouchiness, etc.
I am given to odd notions and whims. That’s the whole thesis of my quilt, isn’t it? That’s why I haven’t been posting patterns. When I’m crocheting, I’m crocheting. I can’t stop every row and write down what I did. Worse, I can’t write it down and then rewrite it in a text document. I tried to teach myself coding last year because I was told it’s “just logic,” and being logically minded, I should be good at it. The thing is, it’s also typing, and I fucking hate typing. (You’re looking up at the past 4 paragraphs skeptically. This is different. Just trust me that it’s different. You’ll see what I mean when you look at the pattern and how poorly I’ve cleaned it up because something about typing shit like, “Ch 3, turn, sk 1st st, sc in 2nd ch from hook, sc in next sc, sc 15, ch 2, sc in next sc, sc 15, ch 3, turn, sk 1st ch, sc in sc in sc in sc in sc in next st and to end,” just itches my brain so uncomfortably. Crocheting is so intuitive for me, and translating it from the physical realm to the written kills me. It’s like when I would finish my geometry proof before everyone else, and the teacher would suggest I help the kid next to me, but I couldn’t put it into words. I don’t know, dude, you just put the things where they go. Just put the hook through the correct stitch. Just make it the shape of one third of a jester’s hat. That’s how you make a pattern. Just do the thing that obviously you should do. This is why I like diagram crochet patterns more, which I would like to get into on here in the future. However, this pattern reflects the madness that is my brain trying to type up patterns. When I started this blog, I thought I would do a bunch of patterns like that, maybe with a horror narrative evolving around the monotony and the separation between typography and craft, and then I realized how much tongue in cheek patterning that would require. Hmm. Maybe someday, though.)
So anyway, this is NOT your granny’s pattern because I bet she has better discipline than I do. She would have cleaned this pattern up to the necessary bits. I’m too damn crotchety for that.
All 3 panels will follow this pattern. I used (most of) 3 skeins of Buttercream Luxe Craft 100% Wool yarn. It is yarn weight 5, recommending 6.0mm crochet hooks, and for once I did what I was told.
It appears that Joann has rebranded it to Knit & Crochet, but it also seems I have moved to an area with mediocre Joanns which carry neither. Which is whatever; I have gift cards to better yarn shops.
You can follow the same scheme of adding stitches with different starting row counts. This ended up being a little more than 25 inches in circumference, which made it just a bit too big for me. I rolled up the brim on the underside when I wore it, which worked fine for me and my 21 inch head since it’s a nice thick yarn.
Key
I'm using US terms.
ch = Chain
sc = Single crochet
sk = Skip
sc2tog = single crochet 2 together
That's all you need. It's easy peasy, you got this, gorgeous.
Ch 31.
1. skip 1st ch. sc 30. ch 1, turn.
2-10. sc 30, ch 1, turn.
11. sc 30, ch 2, turn.
12. sk first ch, sc in second from hook. sc across. Ch 2 again! and turn.
13. sk first ch, sc in second, sc 16, ch 2, sc in next stitch and to end. (32 total, 16 on each side. We're gonna stop keeping count, though. I didn't, and it turned out just fine. You'll be fine, as long as all your panels are Shaped.) Ch 2, and turn.
14. Sk first ch, sc in second, sc 17. In 2 ch space {sc, ch 2, sc}. Sc to end. Ch 2, turn.
15-16. You know what you're doing. Sc to that chain space, and sc, ch 2, sc, and keep going. Ch 2, turn.
17. Now it switches up, but not really. Sk first ch, sc in second. Sc to 2ch space {sc, ch 2, sc}, sc to end. NOW. Chain 3. Turn.
18. Sc in second and third ch from hook. sc to chain space {sc, ch 2, sc}, sc to end. Ch. 3.
19. NOW it switches up. Sc in second and third ch, sc across. You hear me? Single crochet across! Skip that chain space entirely this time 'round!
20-22. In 20, you add the ch space in... um. shoot. This is why people keep track of stitches. Add the ch space above where it was in 18. IDK, you got this. ch 3, turn.
23. Hey, just skip that ch space again, okay. Don't argue (you can argue, change the pattern, idgaf). Ch 3, turn.
24. sc in second and third ch from hook, sc 31, ch 2 without skipping, sc 32. Ch 3, turn.
25-27. Same as 20-22.
28. Do that thing where you omit the ch space. Or don't. I'm not your mother.
29-30. Same as 20-22 and 25-27.
31. This is ittttttttt! Single crochet until that 2 chain space where I need you to use that one stitch in the key you forgot about? The sc2tog? Keep sc'ing to the end and fasten the fuck off, you did it.
Now you just have to do that two more times and probably in different colors. Maybe if you're fancy you could do stripes. Row 31 should have 92 stitches, but, like I said in Row 13, as long as it's Shaped, you're honestly good. As longs as the Shapes are Basically The Same, you are grooving.
Sew them up. I slip stitched them together because I'm more comfortable with a hook than a needle (and I think it looks nice). Don’t forget to affix something that jingle jangles. 🃏
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shadow and bone episode 6 liveblog: all two minutes of it before I turned off the TV
wow Baghra sure doesn’t…….. give a flying fuck that Alina plans to kill her son. which would be fucked up in a vacuum, but like. in the books, her motivation THE ENTIRE TIME is “saving him.” her ENTIRE THING is that SHE DOES NOT CARE about anything but herself and her son’s survival. EVERYTHING ELSE is expendable, the entire country is expendable, even Alina is expendable. BUT SURE!!! LET’S JUST NOT CARE THAT THE ONLY ONE OF YOUR MANY CHILDREN YOU BOTHERED TO RAISE AND THE ONLY CONSTANT OVER LIKE 800 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE IS GONNA GET MURDERATED
I am paused two minutes into the episode debating if this show is worth finishing
Darkling stans, I’ve always thought our section of the fandom unfairly vilified Baghra. but I am now maintaining that opinion only about book!Baghra. this is extremely cruel writing.
god. even book!darkling—an objectively worse and Deader Inside person than his show counterpart—had the decency to be extremely fucked up over Baghra’s death. and she just isn’t phased by the reverse prospect at all?
how did book!darkling, an objectively worse person who did far worse to everyone around him, get a more sympathetic treatment than what we’re doing now? like, what was the point of all the work they did to humanize the character and make him more three-dimensional, who DOESN’T EVEN DO HALF THE HEINOUS THINGS AS HIS BOOK COUNTERPART, only to turn around and take away sympathy for him that existed in the books
I was already expecting this liveblog would be a big rant about the decision to have baghra HELP alina with the amplifiers even though that is so outrageously counter to Literally Everything She Stands For And Believes In, but this just decked me in the face, so we might not even get far enough for me to do That Particular Rant
I’ve turned off the TV
an hour has passed, I’ve taken a shower, I’ve continued to debate with myself if I should just be done with the entire franchise and care about things that are actually good, instead of caring too much about things because I wish they were good
we’ll see what I decide. I’m gonna sleep on it
don’t tell me anything / be very vague. I can ask Kara specifics for my mind-making-up-process but I still want to have control over what/how much info I take in to make that decision
I really……. didn’t foresee a world where I wouldn’t like season 2
because like, I read the books. on the whole, I enjoyed them. even though objectively 5 of them are mediocre at best. I made it through. I had fun. they’re not good, but they’re entertaining, and that has value. and that was always my assurance. “well, if nothing else, the show won’t be WORSE than the books.” and I’m not so sure about that right now.
all things considered, I’m actually the world’s most easy-to-appease Darkling Stan. I don’t want a different ending. I like both deaths, in r&r and row. honestly, all I’ve ever wanted is for the narrative to be less heavy-handed on lecturing the audience, stop telling me how I’m supposed to feel, and respect the tragedy of someone who’s fought so hard and so long that there’s nothing left of him. Respect that that’s tragic.
and based on season 1, I thought, perfect, you’re golden, on the right track, just keep this up. I’m looking forward to that sweet sweet tragedy
and I do not understand how this version of the character—who is nowhere near as bad as his book counterpart—is being treated with even less sympathy. I don’t understand it. his own mother doesn’t give a shit??? you can’t even give him THAT? there is not a single soul in this whole entire world with even a scrap of sympathy, despite the fact that there are multiple characters in the book who feel that? they trust the audience so little?
my ask was so minimal. respect the tragedy of the character. and right now, it seems like they’re doing a WORSE job than the book did.
#episode 6 verdict (minutes 1–2): I made it through rule of wolves but I might not make it through this#don’t tell me anything / be very vague#I can ask kara for specifics for making-up-my-mind but I still wanna have control over what/how much info I take in to make that decision#sab liveblog
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(First mini fic with Chase and Leo from my playlist. I hit shuffle and got this first so... Enjoy the darkness song on my playlist for an opener I guess lmao)
Chase/Leo: Free Fall Without a Parachute
I toss and turn in hot, uncomfortable and sticky sheets. The air conditioner is off and only a ceiling fan spins uselessly - doing nothing more than tossing hot and wet air around the room in circles. The heat wakes me from dream. One that felt so real... The choking stagnation causes me to sigh in defeat. Now that I'm fully awake the dream slips from my mind. I pull the blanket off myself and scan the room for Leo. He's almost always next to me and I don't know how to feel without him hear. I can't hear or smell him nearby so I try to listen for him. The sound of baritone humming and singing from down the hallway catches my ears. He must be making breakfast for us.
I smile, knowing that it’s all real. Leo’s still here for me, even after everything I put him through, after everything we went through together. It’s been some time now… since I decided to stay with him here in Echo. Finishing school after what happened those few nights was hard. I still had nightmares about what those assholes put us through. It’s always been a mystery to me, how bad the whole 'Hysteria' really got. Everyone else went through something I can only describe as supernatural... But not me and Leo. Just the two of us together through it all - And just two fucking meth’ed out rednecks tearing us apart. But Leo kept me safe that night so, here I am... with him back in Echo.
I give up on sleeping but still fallback to laying in the messy and hot sheets, to lazy to get up. My mouth is dry and I’m dehydrated but I know Leo will come for me soon. I lay my head down and try to relax but the room starts to spin. Deep purples and reds swirl past my eyes and with every passing moment and it just keeps getting worse. The walls are getting smaller and right before I scream for help, My Wolf comes bouncing around the corner, breakfast in hand. “Mornin’ Chula!” His voice and smile snaps me from the bout of delusions.
The room is still and the colors are back to normal for a second. Leo walks through the doorway, his red fur staining the room a warm wine color, light filtering peacefully through the window shining off his coat. “Morning Leo.” I beam at him in response. HIs tail wags rapidly as I begin to set up our in-bed food tray we got for ourselves for lazy mornings. Once its set up Leo places our meals on the tray and bounces up over me onto the far side of the bed, then onto and through the underside of the tray, all so we can cuddle together as the delicious smell of his admittedly mediocre food washes over me.
I curl myself into his embrace, placing my head under his chin so we fit together perfectly, just like I know he loves. His burly left arm pulls me closer as we share a moment together. It’s peaceful and quiet. The sound of my growling tomach is what finally causes us to pull apart in embarrassment and a fit of giggles. “Let's dig in big guy, ya?” Leo nods his head in confirmation as we quietly eat together in bed. Leo’s presence is so comforting to me. I feel safe with him nearby, like he somehow turns off the noise in my head. I turn to look at his handsome face but I’m greeted to the sight of him chewing wildly and messly. He catches my gaze and covers his mouth trying to hide how sloppy he was. I laugh and use the ruined sheets to wipe his mouth. “Sorry Nutria, didn’t mean to make a mess!” I sigh, content with the situation. We needed new sheets anyways.
“Nothing to worry about Leo.” We smile at each other and both go back to enjoying the meal together in peace.
After we both finish eating, Leo takes the plates and tray to the kitchen to clean while I stew in the room by myself. It's not long before the heat gets to me again and a familiar red glint fills my vision. I curl my tail over my body holding it meekly. These - These things I see are different from what I used to see... The accompanying headache creeps over me as I lay balled up on the bed. The sensation of someone pounding on the back of my eyes and the inside of my skull reverberates through my bones and face. It’s always like this when I’m alone or when it's too hot out even when I was back in Pueblo finishing my degree after that night. My senior year was the hardest by far. Along with the new headaches, Jenna hadn't spoken to me after that night and any online contact from Carl and Flynn went radio silent. Ever since Brian and Duke c-
The sound of a rapidly wagging tail smacking into narrow walls snaps me back to myself again. Leo bounces back into bed and we’re cuddling again despite me sweating. His ability to shrug off the desert heat while it suffocates me is something we're gonna have to work on more now that we live together. “Leo turn on the air, it’s soooo hotttt” I whine in my twinkiest voice - it helps him listen to me faster.
“Oh I was meaning to talk to you about that Chase.” I turn to him and listen patiently, droping the bratty act. “Money around here is going to be a bit tight for a bit. My uh… my parents fired me.” I gasp and cover my mouth with my paws. The webbing is cracked and dried. “Said they didn’t appr-approve of us anymore.” Leo’s voice goes quite and I can see tears forming in his eyes. His voice raises an octave and he whimpers as he holds my hands, pulling them from my maw. He usually doesn’t drop his guard even around me. But I know this is tearing him up inside. It’s tearing me up too. Aside from our income being cut, his parents have always been extremely supportive of us. My parents cut me off too, for some reason, and Leo’s parents who had always been a second family to me now doing the same is making me burn up inside.
On shaky breathe I ask “Why Leo, why would they do that?” Leo responds by sobbing into his paws. I’ve never seen him break down like this… even when he rescued me that night. I don’t remember much, nothing but a large, red form pulling from the mines and away from that psychotic bear. The doctors said all the bloodloos might affect my memory and it was a miracle I pulled through. They said my boyfriend cauterizing the wounds was enough to save me till the next morning. It’s funny, I also remember laying on Leo's kitchen floor screaming in pain as he burnt the wounds closed but I don’t remember Brian making them in the mineshaft. Maybe it’s better that I don’t remember what Brian did to me...
I shake myself from my dark thoughts to remember to hug Leo to try and comfort him. My mind wanders as I absently pet him. The money is an issue. Even with my degree it’s hard to find work, a couple online magazines here and there but it's barely enough. Especially after my parents decided not to help with the few loans I had to take even though they said they would. I always knew my mom and dad didn’t approve of Leo and me being together. Us deciding to move in together after school was what made them pull funding. It pissed me off to no end, like the lies Jenna and even fucking Carl told them about Leo.
The anger makes my headache start back up, even though Leo is right next to me. I wince past the pain and hold him close, cuddling him for once as he cries. Leo's apologizing for putting us in this situation. I know it’s not his fault. He always knows what's best for us though. He has to… He has to know right? Because if he didn’t … I click two fingers together finally remembering what I dreamt about.
I need to Leo about my dream. If he knows how I felt maybe it would snap him out of it. “Hey Leo,” He turns to me, sobs calming down enough for me to talk. I continue when I know he can hear me. “I had a dream last night,” He’s paying attention now. Deep and focused. “And in my dream I took a knife to you.” it... It wasn't a good dream.
“Chase?” His voice is questioning and terse, now back to his ‘regular’ octave. His accent is thick as he tries to analyze what I'm saying. “I slit your throat from ear to ear. The wound was gasping for the air…” I trail off not wanting to finish even though I HAVE to tell him. It was such an ugly dream.
“Chase why are you telling me this? Why are you saying it like that.” I can’t read his emotions anymore.
“Chase?” Leo’s scared again. Both my paws are around his throat. My stumps ache as I ‘stand’ on them for leverage. I don’t know why I want to hurt Leo. Why those thoughts would drive me to that. I've been through much trying to stay with Leo, why would I throw it away like this. Finishing school in a wheelchair was hard enough but everyone leaving me… leaving me alone with Leo, was harder. But I know we could make it together. We would have to, because Leo knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t lie to me when he tells me he does, even though every day it gets harder - it gets worse. More and more alone… and, and because if he was lying about that. Then that means he’s a liar. And if he was a liar.
“Your sceam so clear. But every dream could never come true.” I grip the hot and sticky sheets… If my dreams were true then that means, that means…
The sheets gripped in my paws are stained red from that night. It's been more than a year and that sick fuck hasn't changed them, from what he did to me. He couldn't be fucking could he? It would mean I was crazy and my friends and family weren’t when they told me what they saw. But I know better. I know Leo. He wouldn't lie to me. I know that fucking bear was insnae, of course he’d torture me like that, so I couldn’t esacpe his sick mass grave shit. He probably fucking ate them, that’s why we never found anything when the police looked in the mines. That sick fuck would do something like that. I fucking hate him. I fuckng hate him. I fucking hate him. I want to tear is fucking throat out, I want to rip his fucking windpipe out with my bare fucking claws I want to -
My vision burns red as the pounding at the front of my skull starts again and I collapse into him. Leo strokes my tail and head. He calls me his Chula and Love and all of the kind words and all of his sickly sweet nicknames as I pass out in his arms, the pain and anger to much to bare.
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Hushed whispers were the first thing that she heard as the pounding in her temples soon turned into a throbbing. Squeezing her eyes, Eris attempted to rid herself of the pain that was becoming a nuisance with each passing second. The voices mocked her and chuckled low before she felt one of them threading their grubby fingers in her hair and yanking her head back. Eyes snapping open, Eris was met with familiar green eyes that haunted her nightmares. “There’s the little goddess. Finally, awake Eris…” His voice made her swallow hard and fear was clear as she struggled to get out of his grip. The hot tears prickled at the corner of her eyes and gritted her teeth before she went to speak…
“William. I don’t remember you making an appointment…” Eris spoke through gritted teeth. Trying not to show anymore fear but he could read her like a book. The smirk on the man’s face only confirmed that, and the grip on her hair cause her to groan in pain. Digging his fingers more into her hair, he kept a tight grip. A shiver ran down her spine from her bare feet, touching the cold cement beneath. Where had he taken her?
William Light wasn’t the person to piss off and Eris had done that. Eris had helped someone locate their daughter and bring his acts to the light. Now she was paying the price. Eris was at his mercy and she didn’t want to admit that…
“One rule Eris. You had one fucking rule. Did you forget it?” He spoke, but his voice rose with each word, making her wince. “I bought you that fucking run down building that you made in a mediocre base of your operations. I didn’t ask for the money back! What did I ask for, Eris?” He asked before releasing his grip on her hair and walking around to face her. Still, Eris refused to speak and merely looked him in the eyes, but that had been the wrong. How did she know it was wrong? Simple. He had struck her hard enough that her head went to the side and she tasted blood. Had she bitten her lip before he struck, or was it from her cheek? Eris wasn’t sure, but she could feel the pain radiating from it. It was more than likely going to be red and bruised…
“What was the rule, Hale? Don’t make me repeat myself….” William spoke before one of his men handed him a cloth to wipe his hand and she lowered her head for a moment. Scared. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she wanted to cry. Eris knew he wouldn’t just let her walk out of her. No, Mr. Light was teaching her a lesson. A lesson that she wouldn’t come back from. No one ever did. She had witnessed that firsthand when he had worked under him. Now, she was the one who wouldn’t be coming back. They would take the Golden Apple for him and her staff… hopefully he wouldn’t dare do anything to them…
Eris went to think of some prayer that she might have heard as a child, but it didn’t come. Instead, a familiar ringtone filled the air and her stomach turned to ice. That was her personal phone. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Did you have some date tonight? Here, I’ll let them know you’re busy…”
“No! Please! No!” Another back-handed slap was felt across her cheek and she let out a whimper at the pain. Tears streaming down her cheeks at this point. Eris couldn’t hear the voice on the other line, and her face stung with pain.
“Hello? Oh, I’m sorry. Eris is currently busy with an appointment. I could take a message for you? Or I should tell you that if you want to speak with her one last time, then there’s a fee.”
“Don’t pay him a fucking dime!” She screamed, praying the other person might hear her, but her head was jerked back again and an icy blade pressed to her throat. The blade nicking her skin and she could feel the small thing of blood on her skin. It was a warning… “Don’t listen to him!”
Another sound echoed in the room and her scream rang out before William chuckled.
“I’m sorry but she’ll be a little busy. Boys, do what you want to her. She needs to learn a lesson…” William hit the red icon on the call and ended it with no goodbye and dropped her phone to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.
#open starter#ᴇʀɪꜱ ʜᴀʟᴇ#ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀᴘᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ?#cw dark themes#cw physical abuse#cw knife#cw blood mention#cw kidnapping
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Not the best thing to be comparing it to since they're on completely different levels but I cant help it.
Ok so, when I finished Attack on Titan, I remember sitting there just like... staring at the window ahead of me and just thinking to myself "what can I possibly watch now that wont feel insanely mediocre in comparison?"
Truly. It was akin to a feeling of a breakup but with someone so perfect you think "well that's it, nobody can compare to that, no point in even looking"
Osomatsu was the best thing for me to get back to first. For various reasons. And it worked. It helped. It took my mind off of SnK, even if I kept thinking about it here and there. And then I watched 91 Days and Acca and was able to appreciate them for what they were, but SnK changed a lot for me. Because I had never seen it done before.
There's some that say otherwise and that someone with my viewpoint is wrong, but I really and truly felt like the creator of SnK had every second of that story planned. And I could pull up various moments in the show that made no sense when you watched them in s1, only to have that answered in s3 or s4, and its like, "ok if he didn't have that planned, and it was 10 years later that we saw the answer, why would it have been in s1 in the first place." I want to get into that in a different post. But lets just say, SnK is what the show Lost could have been. But they defo didn't know where they were going with that and pulled a damn plot out of a hat and an ending out of another hat and went along with it, and it is widely regarded as the show that could have been the greatest TV show ever made (and then Game of Thrones did the same thing lol).
While watching Maou-sama, I watched it the same way I watched 91 Days and Acca. I watched it for what it was. None of them are SnK. They're just animes. Fun animes. And they were my top rated. I'd given them all an 8 (Maou had a 9 but I brought it down).
But with Maou-- Like SnK, it also happened to feature something I'd never seen before. And that is that is it the most wasted potential I have ever seen.
I don't remember being this disappointed. This would have been the exact type of show in which you should have had your whole story planned out, just like SnK. Definitely not on the grand, epic scale. But you don't have to be of the same genre to put your all into your story. Your very best. Your goddamn heart.
Some animes go a little bit downhill. Some animes start off medicore and get better.
But to have the premise that Maou-sama did and go in such a route that turned it into the most basic, run of the mill, generic anime that could easily blend in with thousands of others... Absolutely crazy to me.
And everyone is in agreement on it. I felt this way and then looked at the comment sections and its very much accepted that the creator got to a point where he stopped giving a shit. And that's so sad.
I wish he'd just been like "here, I got this far. I gave it my all to a point, so please continue cause I actually don't know what to do from here on out" and just handed it to someone else.
But anyway. I watched Maou-sama 10 years ago.
S2 part 1 came out in 2022 and S2 part 2 came out in 2023 (idk why it wasn't just S2 and S3). The anime ended in the most basic manner.
So, instead of waiting for a S3, I'm gonna read the manga and finish it off, bc I'm so disappointed I really couldn't be bothered, and wanna get this outta the way so I dont have to look at it again. And there's only 10 chapters left (idk how they'll make a whole season outta that).
Oh what could have been.
#esp me liking a main character for once#THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN#niece watches maou sama#niece watches anime
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January 3rd,2024
I hesitated making a blog post today because all I did was go to work and finish my media edit. But here I am. Making a post. I didn't take a single picture today because, as I said, I was at work all day. Multiple coworkers have told me if I were 18 they would recommend me to become a shift lead (which is a compliment). I like work because I am good at what I do, and I get praised for my hard work. In a lot of my hobbies and things I enjoy, I like doing it but I am either mediocre or very bad at it (like drawing, crocheting, etc). And usually when you are mediocre at something people don't compliment you on it. They don't necessarily say anything bad, they most often just don't really say anything about it at all. A lot of the art I post on twitter only gets likes because it relates to a fandom my moots like, and not the actual effort or technical skill put into it. But I like work because I am good at it and therefore I get complimented by coworkers a lot. I like it. And maybe I seem like a bad person or self centered or whatever because I like compliments, but it feels nice! I can't help liking the feeling of finally liking myself!
I keep calling my media edit a "media edit", because I was inspired by the people who posted media edits/"me core" edits last year, but really it is more of a letteboxd recap. I'm quite proud of it! My computer hates me for making it, because I downloaded a million 2 minute clips just to use like one second from each. I think it turned out pretty good. I am going to make a separate tumblr post for it I think, and I am going to post it on twitter tomorrow. Please ignore the glitches and how low quality a lot of the clips are. Its not my fault that I am not technologically savvy enough to figure out how to get high quality clips or to stop my computer from overheating. Also it gets offbeat for a while, but at that point I had spent so long on it that I decided I wouldn't fix it. The movies are in order of when I watched them (beginning=January, end=December), and I love that you tell when I did marathons. Like all the Shrek movies at the beginning, and the scream movies towards the middle. Fun fact: my friends and I did the Scream marathon right before the newest one came out, with the hopes that we could watch it in theaters together, but two of us were not let in because we were 16. We later watched it at Oomf's house, but only after months of forgetting about it and putting it off. Also something I love about the edit is how you can see that I clearly went through a Jesse Eisenberg phase and a Adam Driver phase (I say that like I am not currently still obsessed with Jesse Eisenberg. He is pookie).
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Enduring Ties - Chapter 9 - Part 1
*Warning Adult Content*
Cailan stepped in closer and rested his forehead against Liam's shoulder, fighting the urge to squirm and only halfway succeeding.
Did everyone feel like they could barely contain themselves from the first touch of another or was Cailan just particularly sensitive because he never touched himself?
"Ah," Liam said, releasing his grip on Cailan and turning him around.
"The bath. It's a good thing I could see it over your shoulder because I had completely forgotten about it."
Liam went and turned the water off, then he climbed into the bath and reached a hand out to help Cailan in as well.
The water was pleasantly warm and when Cailan sank down into it in the middle of the tub, it reached just above his nipples.
Liam sat down on the ledge, leant his head back, and groaned.
"I've missed baths. Between the mediocre camp facilities and your help, I stay clean enough but I've missed how taking a bath feels. Do you like baths?"
Did Cailan like baths?
There was some deeply ingrained part of him that told him to smile and say that of course he liked them because Liam did but this wasn't the time or place for that kind of insincerity.
"The last time I had a bath was when I threw up on the carpet and Aubree helped me wash. Before that, not since I was too young to know how to clean myself with magic. That is to say, I didn't have any particular prior opinion of baths but this is nice."
"I suppose you wouldn't have indulged yourself, would you? That's why I try so hard to spoil you, Cailan. You never prioritise your own wants or needs. You never ask for anything."
"I'm a slave. It's not my place."
"You're my world. I don't care what anyone else says you are or ought to be. I want you to be happy. Genuinely happy."
"Well, you are my master, so I must give you what you want," Cailan said as he looked up at Liam from where he sat in the water in front of him, a smile on his face to let him know that he understood just how absurd this verbal dance between them became sometimes.
Not that he entirely hadn't meant his words, but he wasn't unaware of himself.
Liam followed Cailan's gaze as it dropped to Liam's length.
With their current positions, Cailan was closer to it than he was to Liam's face.
The head poked out from beneath the water but the rest was submerged.
"You're going to breathe in water if you try that."
Cailan felt himself flushing. Had it been so obvious what he was contemplating?
"What can I do for you?"
"Come and sit on my lap."
Cailan waded through the water, climbed up to kneel on the bench, and then carefully straddled Liam's lap.
"Like this?"
"Yes, love."
Liam put one hand on Cailan's back and gripped Cailan's hip with the other.
He pulled Cailan close so that their chests pressed together and Cailan's face rested against the crook of his neck and then he pushed up against Cailan at the same time as he pressed down against Cailan's hip.
It wasn't very much friction for either of them but it was a great deal of physical contact in a great many places all at once.
Cailan had never felt anything like it.
He explored Liam's neck, mostly with his lips at first and then with the gentlest brush of teeth.
Liam let his head fall to the side, confirming he liked it.
Liam's hand had moved to Cailan's ass now, desperately trying to press the two of them together in a way that would satisfy him.
Without warning, he wrapped his arms around Cailan and stood, lifting him up.
He grabbed a towel on their way to the bed.
He held Cailan with one arm, laid the towel out and then gently set Cailan down on it.
Liam climbed on top of Cailan, pressing their cocks together, and then arched his back so that he could press their lips together despite his greater height.
Liam kissed him deeply, his tongue probing into Cailan's mouth as his hips moved against Cailan's.
It was too much, not enough, too much, too much... Cailan's hips jerked up and by the time he realised what was happening, it was too late.
Cailan lay there, breathing heavily, a sick feeling sinking in his gut.
Liam had stopped moving.
He reached down, brushing too-sensitive skin, and felt the wetness against Cailan's belly.
"Sorry," Cailan murmured. "I'll clean it up."
Liam tilted Cailan's chin up.
"Why do you sound upset, sweetheart? Did I move too fast?"
"I didn't mean to..."
Cailan nodded his head towards the mess he made.
Liam pressed a quick kiss to Cailan's lips and rolled off of him.
"You have done nothing wrong. Bodies just... do what they do. You can't always control these things."
"We're supposed to be able to control ourselves," Cailan murmured.
Liam scoffed.
"Just because they told you something doesn't mean it was true. But that doesn't matter, remember? You are not theirs. You're mine. I am not unhappy with you. Understood?"
Cailan nodded.
"Now, do you think you're done, or do you think you'll be able to continue after a short rest? Either is okay but be honest with me."
Cailan's fingers brushed his cock.
It felt uncomfortably sensitive.
"I'm not sure. I've never..."
"No, of course. Let's clean you up and give you a chance to settle down, and then we'll see."
"What if I can't? You're not satisfied yet..."
"There are many ways to achieve my satisfaction. You have hands. I'm sure you can figure out how to put them to use."
"But... is that enough?"
Liam pressed a kiss to the top of Cailan's head.
"You're always enough, sweetheart."
Cailan nodded, then swept his hand over the two of them to clean them both off.
He took a deep breath in and shut his eyes as he let it out as a sigh.
Having Liam on top of him, grinding down on him, had felt good.
Coming had not. He hadn't wanted to do it.
Not then, when Liam was just starting to really get into things.
He wanted Liam's arousal, Liam's pleasure.
Without it, he didn't think he could truly enjoy his own.
Cailan touched himself, just barely at first and then slowly applying more pressure.
He wasn't one to masturbate but this wasn't that.
He was testing and pushing, his physical limits.
Liam combed his fingers through Cailan's hair.
"It's okay if you can't right now. Truly. We have three days together, just the two of us."
"I can," Cailan insisted.
He still felt like squirming every time he touched himself, but he was beginning to get hard again.
"What do you want from me, my love?"
Cailan's first instinct was to tell Liam that he didn't want anything from him, that he wanted to be the one to please Liam but that wasn't entirely true.
Liam had already expressed that he would be happy with anything and Cailan truly didn't think he was lying.
"I would like you to penetrate me," Cailan admitted.
"Thank you for telling me," Liam said.
"Is there anything else that needs to happen or not happen to make this something that will bring your happiness and satisfaction?"
"I... I'd like you to finish."
"By any means. Inside of you or...?"
Cailan offered the slightest hint of shrug.
"It's okay, sweetheart. You're allowed to want things."
"Inside... If you can."
"Oh, I certainly can. But, Cailan, you must remember that bodies do not always do what we want them to. I will try to do this for you but only if your body permits it. If it does not, I need you to do me the kindness of waiting and trying again later. I know you would be willing to endure pain to get what you want right now because you're tenacious in your own way but that is the one and only thing that could ruin this experience for me. Can you understand that?"
"Yes, I... yes. I promise to be honest with you."
"That's all I ask."
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The way things go…and the way it actually works in general has been not what i thought it once was . Every inch of how i think its going too be , compared too how life works has been a lesson learned . Every time i try something life wants too interrupt me and push me back into the hole ive been dying too get out off . This has been so far frustrating. but i have no choice too conform into standards that i deem mediocre and feel like i have a chance too do and be better . And these failures have never helped my self esteem let alone confidence in moving foward . Theres only so much words and self doubt can do before you wanna try stopping everything and be a sheep too society and give up . Ive seen friends do therapy , and theres only one person i know who went and made sure she made results happen . Sometimes over the edge of situations can make you stop…sometimes legal action has stopped her . But the way she saw herself as being in a movie in my eyes has made me feel like she was always the main character . And that really moved me cause it made see a version of someone i have never really compared too anyone since . Her charm and lock on me has influenced me to realize how much someone like her could have been a potential partner of someone who i felt more comfortable than any ex ive ever had . She came from a lot of hurt and trauma and she once saw inspiration and fondness of me at one point before she ghosted me . Which was typical of her since she warned me in the beginning…something i ignored because i was in awe of her inner beauty . Some peoples energies just aligned soo well with me , that till this day i still think about us . Even though i knew it was gonna be short . Man self denial in myself and her with her ex has always been back and forth . I know my place now…but i always think if you ever do think of me…like i do too you . 😔 probably not ay . No thats cool… * turns around and heads into bed and covers head in blanket *
I may take a vow of silence for my own embarrassment…and maybe every other girl who i thought had a chance with but later on leaving me too .
Just like the rest of yall
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