#like they think they have to be the next damn shakespeare or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronicowboy · 14 days

Text

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

#sami rambles #i had lots of feelings about the coffee order #this is for elke <33333 #the amount of inspiration ive got from our silly little dms....#911 show #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buck x tommy #911 fic #911 ficlet #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy fic #bucktommy ficlet

982 notes · View notes

bingwriterxo · 10 months

Text

the shakespeare exhibit - drabble 2

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which it's the morning after

warnings: none

word count: 600+

author's note: the fluffiest fucking thing ever holy poop

previous part | next part

When Tara woke up, she tossed her arm out to the side, expecting to find you beside her and ready to cuddle for another hour or two. Instead, she found nothing but blankets, and she sat up, looking at your empty spot. She doesn't have morning classes on Monday, she thought. And she would've told me if she were working today. Where'd she go?

She slipped from your bed, threw on the nearest piece of clothing she could find, and shuffled into the living room, her feet cold against the wood floor. Her eyes glanced around the room, noting the rose petals still on the ground, until she found you standing by the stove dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers, a spatula in your hand. Perfect even in the mornings.

She made her way to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. You jumped slightly at the feeling before leaning against her. "Good morning, baby," Tara murmured into your shoulder with a yawn.

"Hi, sleepyhead," you giggled, turning around to kiss her. When you pulled away, you glanced down, and Tara watched as a blush painted your cheeks pink. "You're wearing my sweatshirt."

She looked down, smiling at the graphic design on the front. "Looks like I am."

"You look good in my clothes. I might need you to wear them more often," you said.

She's gonna wish she never said that. Tara nodded. "That can be arranged." You kissed her forehead before turning back around, spatula flipping the pancake you were in the midst of making. She unraveled herself from you, standing beside you instead. "You're cooking breakfast," she pointed out. Wifey material.

"Astute observation, Tar," you teased. "I got hungry, waiting around for you to wake up, so I figured I'd make something."

"It's not that late."

You tilted your head at her. "Tara, it's almost eleven o'clock."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, shit! I have a class at 12:30."

"I know." You chuckled, plating the pancake and sliding it toward her. "I was gonna wake you up soon, but you're here." You nodded toward your fridge. "Butter and syrup are in there. Oh, and feel free to help yourself to a cup of coffee," you said, pointing to your espresso machine.

She hummed as she opened your fridge, grabbing the necessary things. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" she asked. You turned to her, your eyebrows furrowed. There was the smallest of frowns on your lips. I want to kiss it away, she thought, so she did as she sidled back up to your side.

"Do I really?" you asked, pouring more batter onto the pan. "I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing."

Tara shook her head, slathering butter onto her pancake. "It was mostly just little grunts at first, but then you started"--she giggled as she thought about what had occurred throughout the night--"you started reciting Shakespeare."

The spatula clattered against the counter as you whipped around, your eyes wide. "No I did not!"

She laughed. She's so cute all flustered. "Yes, babe. You did. I didn't really know what it was at first, but then I looked it up and you were saying lines from Richard II."

You groaned. "That's so embarrassing." You narrowed your eyes at her. "Do you remember what lines I was reciting?"

"Something like 'with mine own tears I wash away my balm, with mine own hands--'"

"'I give away my crown,'" you finished. You groaned again. "Not the damn Richard monologue."

"It was cute," Tara said. "You're just so nerdy that you're constantly thinking about literature." She rubbed her hand down your arm. "Were you dreaming about the play?"

You shook your head, going back to making your pancakes. "No. I didn't even have any dreams last night. I slept like a rock."

She chuckled, biting her lip. "I tired you out, huh?" And I'll do it again, given the chance, she thought.

You turned pink again, waving her off. "Just eat your pancake."

"I will if you recite more Shakespeare to me."

You huffed. "'Unquiet meals make ill digestions,'" you mumbled. "The Comedy of Errors." You glanced at her, smiling at her own grin. "So, hush up and eat your food, or your tummy's gonna hurt."

"...Did you just say tummy?"

"Tar, just eat your pancake."

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #scream 5 #scream 6 #museum tara

623 notes · View notes

delta-pavonis · 8 months

Text

Ficlet: O that I were a glove upon that hand

Dreamling || Human AU || Rated E || ~1100 words

(Because Tom doing Romeo at VogueWorld 2023 gave me some feelings and Ferdie is often in his Venice Preserv'd look in my head... although with longer hair.)

This has, perhaps, gone too far.

Let's back up.

Everyone in the department, most people on campus, and – because of a viral video of him going off at the director during a dress rehearsal of a Shakespeare in the Park performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream – a damned large swath of London all know of Dr. Robert Gadling's particular and peculiar hate of the Bard. It is what makes this whole thing incredibly frustrating.

Gifts. Hob has been getting gifts. Left for him in conspicuous places, each more finely crafted and expensive than the last. And each with a goddamned Shakespearean love sonnet on it.

If it wasn't for the nature of the gifts themselves Hob would be absolutely certain someone was taking the piss. (Jo, that would probably be Jo.)

But each gift is so bloody thoughtful; carefully chosen with an uncannily tuned awareness to Hob’s personal needs and tastes. This person either really cares for him or… well, he would think the person a possible stalker except that everything they have done relates to something that has happened in public, with full easy access for many people to make a judgment that Hob likes or needs something.

There have been six of them now. And aside from the fact that Hob’s living room wall now looks like all those movies where the authorities are frantically tracking a serial killer, complete with a map of London and lots of red sharpie, he is rather… flattered?

It has been a long time since… well. The anniversary of Eleanor's death will be rounding on eight years this winter.

Hob thinks he has worked out a pattern to when he gets the gifts, is like 80% confident he can guess when they have gotten placed in each location, from his university office, to the men’s dressing room at the White Horse Community Theater, to his usual table at the New Inn. Add to that his approximately 60% confidence in the reasoning behind the temporal spacing of the gifts, and he is ready to roll the dice.

He locks up his office a tick early, as usual on Thursdays, and makes all appearances to head home before going to that evening’s rehearsal. But as soon as he gets home he is donning a new hoodie no one has seen him wear before, slinking back out the garden door, over the hedge, and jogging to the theater. Hob closes himself into the darkness of the men’s dressing room a solid two hours before anyone is scheduled to be anywhere near the place.

And he waits.

Hob is good at waiting.

He is crouched where he will be behind the door when it opens, but this puts him immediately next to some of the accessories storage for costuming for this show. And oh, they have gotten in a new pair of leather gloves for him.

Just because he is good at waiting doesn’t mean that he never gets bored.

Hob slips on the new gloves and works his hands in them. These will be perfect to swordfight in, fantastic.

And then the door creaks open.

He freezes and watches, only the sliver of light coming from the hallway to help him. A masculine figure, slim, in a peacoat, walks silent as a hunting cat to the second chair from the far wall, just where Hob usually gets ready.

A hand runs softly across the back of the chair once before a small box is left on the tabletop. Then as quietly as they came in, the person turns to leave.

Just before they get to the open door Hob pounces.

There is a shout and a scuffle, the two men – for it is another man, of that Hob has no doubt – grappling as one tries to escape and the other hold on.

Which is how Hob ends up with his black leather-gloved hands wrapped around the pale swan neck of his longest friend.

They haven’t seen each other in… fuck, it feels like more than a hundred years. And they had not parted on good terms.

“Christ, Dream?” Hob pants out the nickname but does not let go.

Diamond-sharp blue eyes that could belong only to one person stare at him from beneath heavy lids. He parts his lips to speak, but at the same time Hob shifts the grip of his hands and any words Dream was going to say get lost in a breathtakingly thready moan.

Barely a heartbeat later they meet in the middle, Hob’s hands going to the back of Dream’s head and Dream’s arms going around his shoulders and their mouths fit together like goddamned puzzle pieces and Hob knew, he fucking knew, it would be like this.

They knock over no less than two chairs, collapse against a wall for a minute, then one of them pushes off and they are almost going ass over tea kettle onto the couch. A bit of quick footwork on Hob’s part and they are on the opposite side of the room.

By the time Hob has Dream sitting on the vanity they have gotten their shirts off and his bare back slams into the mirror’s surface, sliding and squeaking with the thin sheen of sweat. He gets his hands under Dream’s thighs, hikes him up to grind their clothed erections together, and once Dream has his legs wrapped around Hob’s hips he brings one hand to his mouth to pull off the gloves.

An unsteady hand grabs his wrist. “Leave them on.” Dream’s voice is even lower than Hob remembers it.

There is fumbling to get flies open and then Hob has his hand wrapped around both their cocks and is pumping. Dream’s fingers are now tugging on Hob’s hair, his body arching prettily as Hob gets his lips and tongue onto that beautiful neck.

Hob is about to be embarrassed by how quickly he is nearing completion when Dream pulls him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he shudders through his orgasm.

“Come with me, Hob,” is whispered against his lips and Hob is absolutely lost to it, shouting into Dream’s collarbone.

They are still panting, large heaving breaths, when Dream tugs Hob’s hand up from where it is wrapped around their spent pricks so that he can lick the leather clean. Hob watches that pink tongue dance between his fingers and his cock almost twitches in interest. He huffs a laugh and takes Dream’s chin in his grip, pulls their mouths back together so that he can speak against them.

“Hello, Stranger.”

#Dreamling #Pavonis writes

204 notes · View notes

shiorinotshiori · 2 years

Text

Love and Dares

The thing with Hellfire is that, they always come up with ideas to make a campaign a little more interesting. What they didn’t think of, for their next shenanigans, someone might get hurt; Unfortunately, it was you.

(Eddie Munson x F!Reader)

Warnings: Mean Hellfire :((, swearing Notes: ' ' means it is the characters' inside thought Hellfire might be ooc Multi-chap, this is just part 1 !! Word count: 3.4k

I don't give permission to repost or translate my work please have mercy

credits to palmviolet in Pinterest for this GIF !!

___

Members of Hellfire were convinced that everyone else in Hawkins High, hates them. It was kind of true, if people weren’t hating on them- others just don’t acknowledge their existence at all. At least that’s what they thought- You, on the other hand, wanted to get along with everyone. You had been eyeing the said club for a while now because you realized you haven’t got the chance to interact with them. How can you? When your friends would drag you away every damn time you were near the Hellfire. They believed those silly rumors about the club sacrificing innocent students for their ‘rituals’.

You also never failed to see their club leader- I mean, Eddie’s pretty hard to ignore with his scenes in the cafeteria. Despite being one of the ‘popular’ students, you knew what your type was- it just happens to be a guy like Eddie Munson. People just turned a blind eye to Eddie’s looks because he was a ‘freak’ but, some people knew that if he dressed up and acted ‘normal’ to please everyone- students might actually fall for him. None of that was needed for you, you admired the guy for as long as you can remember. You also genuinely could tell that whatever it was that the club’s doing, they were always having fun especially with Eddie around.

Being in the same class as Eddie didn’t help too, you couldn’t miss his cute confused face, the way his brows furrowed whenever your professor talks about Shakespeare. It took you many denials before admitting to yourself that you have a crush on the one and only Eddie Munson. After that, you would always find yourself staring at the club’s table.

Bad news for you, your looks of longing’s been misread by the Hellfire club. Whenever they catch your stare, they thought you were judging them. You were known to be the ‘nice’ girl but Hellfire refused to settle with that- for some reason, they believe that you somewhat have a mean side to you. It was driven by their hatred for the popular people. Which, made you their next target.

___

“If I may interject, gentlemen, Lady Applejack. Whilst I respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the Great’s concern to heart. There is no shame in running.” Eddie told his players, they were in a risky situation. The group huddled back together to discuss their strategy, “Eddie’s making fun of us at this point. We can’t win this man.” Jeff whispered to the group, slightly shaking his head. Right then, Gareth thought of something “Why not make this fun for Eddie too?”

“What? What do you mean?” Mike asked, visibly confused at what’s Gareth indicating. “Let’s make a deal with Eddie. If we win, we get to dare him.” Everyone stared at him with their brows raised. “Annnnd, if we don’t?” Dustin questioned, actually starting to consider fighting still with the thought of how hilarious would it be to dare Eddie to do something. “Same thing. C’mon, it would make things interesting!” Members inside the circle began deciding, it was an opportunity to bite Eddie back in the ass if ever they do win. Eventually, everyone agreed as they came up with a dare for Eddie.

Every member’s head now turned to Eddie “Hey Eddie! We’ve got something for you too.”

Eddie just raised his brows, gesturing for Gareth to continue. “You up for making this campaign more fun?” When Eddie heard this, he smiled. He was confident that there was no hope for the group, so he agreed without knowing what’ll cost him “Always.” Everybody’s dignity now lies in the hands of Dustin and Erica.

When Dustin missed a hit, a chorus of groans erupted. Players began to feel nervous because of the same thing they came up with- they were nervous to lose and let Eddie order them around with dares. What no one expected was for Erica to roll a crit hit. They won! Cheers surrounded the room. Gareth, with a smug smile, looked at Eddie. “So, ready for your punishment, DM?”

For a guy who’s done a lot of attention-grabbing shit, Eddie didn’t even wince, he anticipated the punishment to be something goofy but, that’s where he was wrong. “We want you to date (Y/N) (Y/L/N) ‘till graduation.” Eddie’s once confident smile- faltered. “Are you crazy? Y’think she’d even let me near her?!” Eddie knew that you were untouchable, you were at the top of the food chain and he’s- he’s at the lowest. “That’s part of the challenge Eddie, and also, it’ll be like your- drive to graduate so you can end the dreadful relationship. Good luck man.” Jeff chimed in with a teasing smile. ‘These little shits’ Eddie mentally cursed. He was aware that the club’s enjoying his suffering too much. “Okay, but why- why her though?”

“Have you seen the way she looks at us?! It’s like- not a day goes by that she doesn’t stare at us.” Mike explained. “Right, she’s like… silently judging us, I bet.” Dustin backed up. “Eddie, this is our chance to get back at them! Imagine she falls for you then gets dumped by the Eddie Munson. How embarrassing!” Gareth laughed as if he just made a grand plan to ruin your crowd. Eddie was skeptical to do the dare, he didn’t want anyone else to get involved in such thing, regardless of his hate for your people. But, as he would like to say, he was a man of his words.

___

Eddie figured that the strongest chance he has- was to ask you to be his tutor. It was still a long run but, it was a better plan to get close to you first instead of just straight up asking you out on a date. He still didn’t know what you were like, he just assumed that you’re like your friends. Someone who thinks that he’s a freak. Fortunately for Eddie, their D&D session ended the same time your cheer practice did. He waited on a corner in the hallway, watching you exit the gym. In Eddie’s point of view, it seemed like you told your friends to not wait for you as you head to your locker. You were now alone and this was Eddie’s chance to talk to you.

Gathering up enough self-assurance, Eddie went near you and rested himself against the locker beside yours. Your locker’s door blocked your vision so you were not able to notice him there and once you finally closed it- your whole body jumped. “Shit! What the fuck!” you almost screamed on Eddie’s face. You were startled, it was a normal reaction when you see someone suddenly standing beside you. Eddie stared at you with wide eyes, exactly not expecting cursed words to fall out of your mouth in such a loud manner. ‘Right, as expected’ Eddie said to himself, he thought that your reaction was because of him- technically, it was but, more because he surprised you not because it was Eddie. But he didn’t know any better and thought you were just being rude.

“Heyyyy.” Eddie greeted you carefully, afraid because of what happened. You, you calmed down after your shock and realized- you were talking to Eddie! Eddie, who’s your newly found crush! “Oh my god, I’m so sorry for that I- I just got scared… What’s up, Eddie?” you immediately came up with an apology, still nervous you were face to face with him. Eddie got lost in his thoughts for a second, he was thinking of how you apologized and how you knew him- but then again, he also thought about how he’s the school freak- how could you not know him. He decided to still ask you anyway. “You know me?”

You smiled and thought about how adorable he looked asking the question, how could you not know him? He’s the guy that invaded your mind 24/7. “Yeah… we’re on the same class, right? English?”

Eddie went and scratched the back of his head, he looked down as he talked to you “Ah, that’s actually the reason why I came here. You- you’re top in English, yeah? Well… I was just gonna ask If uh- you can tutor me? Y’know, so I can finally leave this hell hole.” Eddie let out a nervous chuckle, he had no idea where his confidence went. To be honest, you were jumping inside, you were ecstatic. Eddie just asked you to be his tutor, meaning, you get to spend some of your time with him. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Sure, why not? Your place or mine?”

“Wait, you’re actually agreeing that fast? I know this may seem… bad, y’know, hanging around with the school freak-“

You hated that Eddie thought so low of himself, if only you could tell him how much you admired him. But of course, you wouldn’t, so you came up with a rule. “Okay, tutoring rules number one- don’t call yourself a freak, especially around me.”

This stunned Eddie and made him look at you, ‘wait, what?’. For a moment, the guy had no reaction. He had to process what was happening; you, (Y/N), just told him that he was not a freak. That was a first for Eddie and it made him feel something inside, something he was not used to. “O-okay.” At last, he managed to utter out a word. You offered him a sweet smile, repeating the question he did not respond to. “Soooo, your place or mine?”

Eddie panicked, he’d never been to a girl’s house and that made his stomach churn. In the end, he just decided to suggest his little spot in the middle of the woods. He couldn’t let you see where he lived because, frankly, he was embarrassed. The trailer’s filled with unwashed dishes, laundry clothes all over his room’s floor, and their ‘withering’ couch. He thought about how maybe you were not used to places like his home, so he went against the idea to bring you with him there.

___

Let’s just say that- a lot of tutoring happened by now. It’s almost a month in after he asked you to be his tutor. Eddie did tell you to keep it a secret because he didn’t want any rumors to spark- not yet, at least. And now here you were, in another session.

“Ughhhh, I can’t do this anymore!” Eddie slumped on to the picnic table’s desk, as usual, he was just being dramatic when it comes to studying. And as usual, you thought it was cute whenever it frustrates the shit out of him. You still remember the first tutoring session you had, Eddie literally started to pull his hair because he hated it so much. “Eddie, if you wanna graduate- you have to work for it,”

“I know, I know. I just don’t get it! Why do we have to study something that was made ages ago?!” Eddie yelled while facing another Shakespeare book. You shook your head but you couldn’t stop the smile that crept on your face, “Okay, that concludes our session anyway. You can go now, be free Eddie!” you laughed as you bow down with one of your hands bent in front of you, gesturing for him to go and do his daily activities. Eddie felt himself grin, he couldn’t deny it- you looked adorable when you did that. Especially that it matched his usual energy. He didn’t want to admit it yet but, he actually enjoyed your company. You were not what he thought, unless, you were faking it- maybe that’s the reason he kept being in denial. He didn’t want to feel secured with what you were showing him, he couldn’t let his guard down. It was still a running dare, it would be ironic if he liked you first- he thought. That was not the plan!

Because of it, he kept pushing the fondness he was feeling for you away, FOR WEEKS, whenever you do something, anything at this point actually. Every time you were with him, this image of you that he created, slowly burns away as you continue to prove him wrong. You had taken it to your advantage to show Eddie, little by little, that you admired him. Jesus, you even started listening to metal just so you guys could talk about it- you also started to like it too. The excitement that coursed through Eddie’s body, when you first asked him if he already listened to Metallica’s new song, was the reason he started feeling this way. Call it shallow but, Eddie hardly talked to girls, let alone girls who actually have the same music taste. Maybe, that was the beginning of it all.

Eddie knew he should stop thinking about you and how it feels like time’s so fast with you but, before he realized it, he was inviting you to Hellfire- which he thought was a bad idea but he already uttered out the words. “Hey, if you’re not doing anything tonight… maybe you should come see us. Uhm, I think it’s my turn to torture you- tutor you, I mean.” Eddie wasn’t really sure why he thought you would like the idea of learning D&D, but in all honesty, he was just finding ways to spend more time with you, even when he’s refusing to admit that he likes you.

Not gonna lie, you almost jumped out of your seat as you hear Eddie’s suggestion. He’s inviting to you his own club! It was also your chance to talk to his friends and maybe, make a good impression. “S-sure, yeah! I- I would love to.” With that, you proved him wrong again. You’re actually coming, now he’s nervous. You both sat up from the bench and head towards the club’s room.

Everyone else was already there, they were discussing how their characters upgraded since last session when the door burst open. Looking at them was their Dungeon Master- and you. Everyone smiled, but not for the reason you thought about them being nice, they smiled because they were proud of Eddie for making progress with the dare. For weeks, they avoided talking to Eddie about it, just letting him make his own moves with his own pace. Eddie cleared his throat, “Everyone, please welcome (Y/N). She- will be joining us for tonight’s session.”

A chorus of ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Hello’s’ welcomed you, you thought it was nice to finally have a conversation with them. You greeted them back as Eddie leads you to a seat beside his throne, he said it’d be easier to understand the game if you could also see his point of view. The game started.

It had been a few hours by now, usually, when you sit down just to watch something for that long, you’d get bored but- it was Eddie you were watching anyway. It was nice for you to see him in his own element, you thought it was impossible to admire him more but here you were. You were fucking lovestruck, mostly because of the fact that Eddie included you in every step of the way. He made sure that you didn’t feel left out so, every now and then- he would tell you things about the game.

For example, when he saw your furrowed brows while Dustin rolled a dice, he quickly told you how the dice decides for everyone’s fate during the gameplay. At this point, you learned every single basic rule in D&D. The game then ended, before you got the chance to get to know the other members, they quickly waved goodbye to you and Eddie- them thinking about giving both of you some privacy, for the dare that is.

Eddie began sloppily packing up, giving him time to think about what to say to you. Eddie should be satisfied with the amount of time he got to hang around with you- but he’s not. Once again, his intrusive thoughts won, “Wanna watch a movie? I uh- got a new one…” he said quickly, looking up from his various sheets of paper. To be honest, you didn’t want to go home yet. Having Eddie around for almost the whole day, you knew you didn’t want this day to end, so of course- you agreed.

Once you arrived at his house, after an awkward silent van ride, Eddie immediately felt the regret of inviting you. Not that he regrets you, it’s just that he hadn’t really thought about what you might think of the trailer he’s currently living in. But as soon as you guys entered his little home, his regret vanished when you said, “It looks cozy in here!” you looked around the room, admiring every little detail there was. You also saw some of his pictures hanged, “You had a buzz cut?!” you turned to Eddie with a look of surprise. You walked closer to the picture, not noticing Eddie’s blushing face. If the trailer didn’t embarrass him, that picture surely did. “Uh- yeah, middle school.” Eddie answered, scratching the back of his head.

He then remembered why you were here in the first place, ‘Shit!’ he mentally cursed as he quickly ran towards his movie collection. He knew damn well he didn’t have a new movie, he just said that out of panic. Eddie figured to just watch the movie he’s seen a million times, it was his favorite one. “Here it is… ready to watch?”

You turned to look at Eddie who’s holding a tape, you went closer to grab it from his hands- inspecting. “Eddie, this came out years ago! I thought you had a new one? It- it doesn’t matter anyway. I haven’t seen it… yet.” You trailed off because you knew you had seen it a couple of times, you just wanted to stay so you lied, assuming he hasn’t watched it. “M-me too! That’s why I said new…” you both stared at each other, completely unaware that both of you lied. You and Eddie were idiots when it comes to feelings, AND that’s how you both ended up re-watching you guys’ favorite movie, oblivious about it too- just for the sake of extending your time together.

Halfway thru the film, you felt yourself drifting to sleep, forcing yourself to stay awake because you thought it might offend Eddie that you didn’t join him thru the whole thing. But eventually, you fell asleep. Eddie felt something heavy landed on his shoulder, he looked beside him to see you fast asleep. Then it dawned to him- on his shoulders, you, asleep. Eddie couldn’t help but stare at your sleeping figure, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked up-close. Intrusive thoughts came again and he raised his hand, carefully bringing it closer to your face. When he was about to caress your cheek, you stir in your sleep, Eddie swiftly retreated his hand back. His heart was racing.

“Oh my god, did I fall asleep? I’m so sorry…” You said, lifting your head up. “That’s okay. It’s almost midnight… you uh- need a ride home?” He managed to offer you even with his heart still racing. You didn’t want to disturb Eddie more but, it was dangerous to go home alone at this hour so you gladly accepted.

Eddie drove you home and while he was driving, you fell asleep against the window in the passenger seat. “Hey (Y/N)… wake up, we’re here.” You heard a soft voice called, you looked out the window to see your front porch. All you wanted to do was to flop on your bed and sleep. You opened the van’s door and landed on your feet, you waited for Eddie to also get out so you can properly thank him for the day. You hugged yourself as you felt the cold wind on your skin when Eddie joined your side. “Thank you for the day Eddie, I enjoyed it.” Still on your dazed state, you stood on your tip toes and planted a soft kiss on Eddie’s cheek. Right after that, your consciousness went back to you in a flash and realized what you just did. Not wanting to see Eddie’s disgusted face, you hurriedly send off your feet to walk towards the house- not looking back, you entered the door and slammed yourself against the back of it inside. ‘Why did I do that’ you mentally cursed yourself, you thought about how maybe you made Eddie uncomfortable… but because you made your own escape from the situation, you failed to see Eddie frozen from his spot.

Eddie stared at the door you just went thru, not a thing on his mind, just letting the feelings he pushed away come again. With his mouth agape, he reached to touch the side of his cheek you kissed. Warm emotions were the only thing he could feel- and that’s when he finally admitted to himself.

He likes you.

___ A/N: andddd that's it for part 1 !! I had this idea for months now ashdgahd this was originally going to be my first fic but it took me a while to start it bc the idea itself was like,,, 2k words?? I reduced the scenes for a bit, so I'm sorry if there's a lot of time skips in this fic !! Also sorry if they r very ooc hasfh. Any thoughts are welcome !! just not hateful ones hehe. Thank you for reading !! I already started part 2 so hang on <33

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson st #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff

2K notes · View notes

catslvrr · 5 months

Text

heaven sent — 08. the apartment

previous | next

It was raining again the next day, but there was no Danielle. You sat there, for an hour or so, hoping that she would eventually show up. You soon gave up and went back to sleep so you wouldn’t have to feel the dull ache in your heart.

It was six in the evening when you woke up again, thanks to Minji.

“Bro,” she knocked on the door. “You alive?”

“Yeah,” you answered groggily.

“I made some noodles for you.”

“I’ll be out in a sec.” You groaned as you rolled out of bed, ruffling your hair as you made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Despite your constant bickering, you were grateful for Minji’s presence in your life. You had grown somewhat fond of her, as much as you hated to admit it, and you both found yourselves confiding in each other late at night after opening a few bottles of soju.

“You look like shit,” was what Minji said when you plopped yourself on the couch. You chose to ignore the comment, stuffing your mouth with noodles instead.

She scrolled on Twitter as you ate, glancing at you in concern every now and then.

“You good?”

You wiped your mouth with a tissue. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“How long have we been roommates, bro? You only sleep in this late when…” She trailed off.

Again, you didn’t respond, just continuing to eat.

She pressed on. “Did you fail that essay? Or did your dad call? Is it girl problems?”

Your hand holding the chopsticks twitched for half a second, but that’s all it took for her to realize.

“So it’s girl problems!” Minji threw an arm over your shoulder, to which you cringed in disgust. “Bro, talk to me. I’m practically the love expert around here.”

You peeled her arm off you. “Love expert my ass. You’ve been single your whole life.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but you quickly shut her down. “That one online situationship on Twitter doesn’t count.”

“Okay,” she huffed. “I might not have much experience, but sometimes it might help to get a different perspective.”

“Wow,” you said dryly. “You actually said something that made sense for once.”

“Enough about me. Tell me what’s troubling my favorite couple.”

Well, she’s actually not my girlfriend. She’s a messenger of God. And we kissed. But she kinda just disappeared after that.

“Um,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to think of a believable lie. “I want her to move in with me, but she says she can’t leave, um, Australia.”

Nice.

“Damn,” she whistled. “So it’s serious serious. I thought it was like a petty little argument.”

You rubbed your face tiredly. “Yeah, no.”

“I get it, bro. Long distance relationships are hard. But you guys are both still young.” She slapped your back.

“She’s already made an effort to fly all the way here to spend these few weeks with you. I think you should just make the most of your time together, and consider the serious stuff when you’re both more financially stable.”

“Wow,” was all you could say. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

Minji puffed her chest in pride. “Love expert, baby!”

You rolled your eyes, but let her advice sink in.

When, or if, she comes back, I apologize and hope things go back to normal. Surely we can still have a fun time and ignore the tension.

“Thanks, bro,” you mumbled.

“You can thank me by making it up to her.” Minji snatched your chopsticks and proceeded to finish off your noodles, which was your form of payment for her advice.

“I don’t even know how to do that.”

She pursed her lips in thought. “What about finishing that song?”

“What song?”

“The song that you had on repeat in your sleep. I literally had to barge into your room and turn it off.”

“Oh. That song.”

She paused. “It’s been a while since I saw you making music, bro. I’m glad that you’re back.”

You managed out a small smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s just an instrumental right? Why don’t you write some lyrics and a melody for it? You’re literally Shakespeare’s daughter. Just write down cheesy shit and sweep her off her feet.”

“Sure,” you deadpanned. “Like it’s that easy.”

“Everything is easy when it comes to love,” she teased, to which you punched her arm.

“I’ve heard enough,” you said, going to your room.

You sat in your chair, uncapping a pen and twirling it as you listened to your old voice notes. Most of them were only about two to four bars long, melodies that randomly popped into your head and resonated with you enough to keep them. Once you found one you liked enough, you knew you could start.

Music composition was a repetitive process. You would play the instrumental for a few bars, freestyle a melody with random words, and keep it if worked. If it worked, you’d polish the lyrics for it, and move on to the next bar. If it didn’t, you would just click play again and try a completely different melody. If you were lucky, sometimes the melody and lyrics would come rolling off your tongue for a whole verse.

You weren’t a singer by any means, but you had created a few demos here and there. As you listened to your first draft, you sank back in your seat and frowned. It felt so empty with just your voice.

You thought about Danielle, and you thought about her stupidly singing to Frozen. You wondered how she would sound singing the song. And so, you spent the rest of the night layering the melody with harmonies with her at the forefront of your mind.

previous | next

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

48 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 8 months

Text

I need to scream about this event (Friends Like These) because I truly was just. Not expecting the impact it would have--I don't remember if I read this one in Japanese???

I've only gotten the first two stories so far but I just.

Jeanne and Mozart are of course, as adorable as ever; there's no question about that. But Jeanne dropping this line:

"It galls me to sound so much like le Comte, but I am grateful to God that I met you."

I. [prolonged error 404 sounds]. I'm not sure there are words to convey the simultaneous endless wheezing laughter but also AWWWWWWWW energy that consumed me in milliseconds. Wildly oscillating between "LMFAO ah yes, sentimentality? Disgusting I'll drink to that (blasts Bring Me To Life)" and "BECAUSE YOU LOVE HIM DEEP DOWN AND HE LOVES YOU WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH."

I just can't get over how Jeanne says exactly one thing about liking another person and he's like, 'ew dad gave me cooties >:///// how dare he subject me to the mortifying ordeal of hope.' Jeanne I love you. Jeanne I would die for you. Middle schooler with well-meaning stepfather who begrudgingly accepts his kindness and grows for the better, but would rather perish than admit it. I never knew I needed this found family dynamic so freaking bad until I started playing this game. 11/10 I could watch this forever

More Shenanigans below the cut, + the Shakespeare and Comte Event Story:

Also a sidebar because I just can't help myself, I know I've talked about it before but: Mozart and Jeanne's friendship is so endlessly precious to me????? I love how Mozart is so NO I'M NOT NICE REEEEE (turtles) and Jeanne is like :> bestie. It's so damn cute watching Mozart squirm at being exposed for being sweet and Jeanne just truly grateful someone cares about him?????? How much Jeanne and MC dote on Mozart despite being together, how it only strengthens their friendship? Literally I'm over the moon, nobody touch me I'm tender!!! Jeanne deserves to live peacefully without being a tool of the state/bad actors!!!! Mozart deserves to be loved and happy without being defined by his musical success!!!!!

LIKE. Not to be dramatic but I could watch an entire saga of these two being friends and being adorable. Fresh serotonin every single time. Did I know Jeanne was going to share his food? Absolutely. Did I expect MC to think ahead and pack two lunches? Absolutely not. Was I delighted both times? Beyond what you can imagine!!!!!!!

I'm going to stop here at the risk of repeating myself over and over but wow. Jeanne's capacity to see to the very core of people, for better and worse, and how it lets Mozart be meaningfully seen. Mozart's recognition that Jeanne can mean well to a fault, worried that he might be taken advantage of--and how Jeanne can build trust with someone for the first time without being afraid. Can you hear me wailing and bawling

Naturally, I acquired the Comte and Shakespeare one next. Now, I'm gonna be honest, I saw their names together and went "oh dear God. What am I walking into. Why do I hear boss music????" But I gathered my courage (more like I'm just too feral not to gather info abt Comte, but I digress) and experienced something that left me literally on the floor because I just. Did Not Remotely Expect This Series of Events.

So like. It starts off by being pretty normal and cute and I'm like awwww baby boy (oh he's a little fked up actually) giving gifts to dad. I'm sensing an ulterior motive but right now just let me have this. Also adorable that Comte is struck dumb by it, that's really cute I'm taking notes. And then. I was hit with the veritable ANVIL that was these next few lines:

deep breath Okay. Where to begin.

I LOST IT at the implication that Will was like. Holding back from ending Comte's entire life with mere words. WILL????? WILL P L S??????? (lowkey wanted to hear the roast snickers) Why am I sensing a pattern that Comte loves spicy people??? Love this for me

I also started losing my shit the second MC was mentioned and you could just hear the record scratch/kill bill sirens. Comte really out here like "son say WHAT about MC." I can't get over how he's always so ready to throw down for both MC and Sebas at any moment. Anywho, naturally I come to the conclusion that Will was just trying to one-up Comte to mess with him by giving MC gifts. It was the one thing I did anticipate--and, fool that I was--thought it rendered me safe from what happens next.

DEAR READER. DEAR READER I WAS SO WRONG. I WAS SO TERRIBLY WRONG.

BABY GIRL. BABY GIRL ON WHAT LEVEL IS THIS NORMAL BEHAVIOR. I'M LITERALLY CRYING RN?????? THE FACT THAT I CAN'T TELL IF HE'S JUST BEING SILLY GOOFY OR HE LEGITIMATELY MEANS IT OR SOME COMBINATION OF THE TWO????????

Mans out here like "I lost everything in the war (literally) let me spoil my girlboss dream gf in peace. Vlad took everything in the divorce let me have this pls." I just. The mental image of him chasing Will around the house. The potential implications of him doing this to protect them both (I love you Will but you have. Problems). The HILARIOUS AND DUBIOUS qualifier when he says "dressing up MC is nearly my entire reason for living." Comte I love you more than life itself but that does not make this any more normal. What are you doing my beloved vampire jkhlhalfdhjfg 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Also an honorable mention moment, because it was endearing:

Just the img of him wandering around with sparkly eyes and toting home little trinkets for everyone??????? He's so cute, that's the most grandpa behavior I've ever seen. I was chortling when Will was like "sir you made me sit in that cluttered carriage followed by another carriage full of stuff all the way home IT'S TIME FOR REVENGE (affectionate)."

I also love how Comte is like "Do I have a problem? Maybe. Will that stop me? Only when the sun cataclysmically swallows the earth."

Literally half of the members of the house are like "why are you like this" and he just heeheehoos his way out of it. How does he keep getting away with it. Can you tell I love him. Dazai isn't the only clown in this house honks Comte's nose

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp mc #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp jean #ikevamp shakespeare #man every time i go back to ikevamp its like the first time #idk man the healing from intense trauma and catastrophic overworking just gets to me okay #i wonder if there's just a fundamental ethos to the game that compels me; the idea that genius of any kind is hard-won #that no matter how brilliant someone may seem--there was a cost that may not be apparent at first glance #but they are also just. silly silly guys. mischievous little creachurs #THE DUALITY OF MAN (VAMPIRE?)#im also just endlessly amused by comte's whole “IM NOT UR DAD”#but at the same time him being like “relating to my children emotionally? how about I Give Them This Thing They Like Instead.”#like comte ilysm but that is literally. textbook dad behavior. 0/10 you failed the stealth check #its my comte roasting hours #at the same time trying very hard not to think about the reasons why #namely that he doesn't want to burden everyone with Vlad's beef^TM #i can't help but think about how much keeping his distance is abt protecting them from himself as well #the way he doesn't want to be a burden on anyone else but also yearns so deeply for companionship/connection #how even with mc he frequently notes what she's giving up to be with him/that he's more work than he's worth #:( i wanna hold him my poor sweet mans

136 notes · View notes

kiltongrammarwriter94 · 19 days

Text

Thought of the day—Jealous Pippa (tame of course)

Pippa sits with her friends, dissecting the latest campus mystery over a Jaffa cake. Her eyes scan the room, always observant. then she sees you—her girlfriend but you aren’t alone, close at your heels is the girl you’ve been tutoring in literature. You’re huddled with her on a table a couple over, books sprawled out explaining the nuances of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Pippa’s chest tightens.

‘Why is she so close to you? Why does she laugh at your jokes? Is she touching your arm? Bloody hell Pippa, focus on your friends’

Pippa’s mind races. She’s never been possessive, but seeing you with someone else ignites a fire within her. She wants to stride over, stake her claim. But she’s Pippa Fitz-Amobi—the girl who solves mysteries, not the girl who admits vulnerability. She’s more level headed than that.

‘ Why does she need a tutor? Why does it have to be my incredibly hot girlfriend? Why couldn’t it have been William from Political science? And why does that girl keep flipping her hair? Is she flirting? No, Pippa, don’t be ridiculous.”

Pippa, you’re being absurd. She’s allowed to have friends. You’re not exclusive. But damn it, she smiles at that girl like she’s the sun rising. Maybe I should just focus on the case. The missing library book. Yes, that’s it. Not the way her fingers trace the edge of her textbook.But what if she prefers that girl’s company? What if she laughs more with her? What if—

“Pip, stop. You’re unraveling faster than a locked-room mystery.”

Cara nudges her. “You’re staring at that girl again.”

“I’m not,” Pippa retorts, too quickly.

“Jealous much?” Connor says from his side of the table.

“Yes,” Pippa thinks. ‘I’m jealous of every second she spends with someone else.’

Pippa’s jaw clenches as she watches you across the canteen. The other girl—the one with the wide eyes and the innocent smile—leans in close, whispering something in your ear. Pippa’s fingers tighten around her jammy dodgers, turning them into nothing but biscuit dust, leaving Cara mortified. “I was going to ask if you wanted them but I can see they are well past being eaten” she had whispered sadly.

One day, after a particularly intense tutoring session, you invite Pippa to join you for lunch. The other girl is there too, and Pips stomach twists. The girl leans in, her lips so close against your cheek. “Thanks for helping me,” she says. And then, to Pippa’s horror, she kisses you on your cheek—a soft, lingering kiss that sets Pippa’s nerves on fire. Your eyes are wide, brain halting, wait did that just happen? Did she know who was sitting right beside you? Your girlfriend of two years?

Pip doesn’t shout. Instead, she calmly sits close to the other girl. “Mind if I sit?” she asks, her voice steady as she peers at the girl. Pip is all dark eyes and sharp quips, you can see her body language. How she sits close beside you, enough that the girl’s eyes flutter between you and pip.

The girl blinks, surprised. “Uh, sure.”

Pippa sits down, her gaze never leaving the girl’s face. “I don’t like you,” she says matter-of-factly. “But I respect boundaries. So, let’s make this clear: she’s mine.”

You watch, wide-eyed, as Pippa leans in. Her lips brush against the girl’s ear. “Next time you touch her,” she whispers, “remember that I’ve solved tougher cases.”

The girl stammers, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Good,” Pippa interrupts. Her voice calm, yet firm. Her smile so saccharine it makes your stomach twist. “Now run along.”

The girl immediately takes her bag and flits off, looking a little to eager to get away from you two. You turn to pip. She smiles at you, all to proud of herself. You don’t know wether to be angry that she just cost you a tutoring pupil, or quite swoon worthy over the performance of heroism. So you settle on the first one, not wanting pip to grow a big head. She’s already got an ego after the Andie Bell case. (That she’ll only admit to you alone)

“You know she payed me five quid per tutoring session” you piped up, eyebrows set in a firm line. You move to lay your head on the girls shoulder, taking small bites of pip’s food from her tray.

Pip laughs, her eyebrows creasing in amusement. “Well it must be luck that your girlfriend owns a true crime podcast that makes more than that a day. 5 quid is amicable, but for a girl in your position I would offer top dollar”

“I’m not taking any money from your university fund pippa” you deadpan.

Pip sulks, her eyes holding faulty hurt. “Not even a measly five quid?”.

You hold her glare, lips seeming to turn as she eyes you with those puppy dog eyes. You grab her hand in your own, lacing her finger with yours.

You watch her eyes as they flit between your eyes, and you laugh. “I can pay in the form of kisses” she suggests.

You perk up at that suddenly aware of the way pippa’s fingers are on your thigh, fingers hot to the touch.

“I’m sorry but our bank doesn’t accept eager customers”.

Pip’s face falls, her blue eyes glaring into you with wide eyes that scream ‘annoyed and very displeased girlfriend’. Pip only shakes her head, “you know I hate it when you withhold affection!” She mumbles.

You laugh, only shaking your head before kissing her cheek, “I’m only playing with you. How much would you like to withdrawal Miss Amobi?” You ask, eyes glinting as pip moves closer. Her eyes peering over at your lips, “oh I don’t think I have an exact figure at the moment” she speaks, “I’m sure you don’t have the amount money to accommodate me”. You flush, “I’m sure we can settle on a fair amount”.

Your far to busy chasing pip’s lips with your own, feeling her lips moving against yours with fervor, chasing your lips like it’s her favorite game to play. Feeling the way pip’s lips detach and tease your jaw just slightly making you giggle. “Connor can you please sit in front of me? I’m getting an eyeful of pip snogging her girlfriend and it’s making me slightly scared for her girlfriend’s life” you hear Cara mumble, but you don’t care one bit.

#i absolutely hate this with my whole heart #wrote this weeks ago and I hate it #but pip’s cute and so I bend #agggtm #pippa fitz amobi x fem reader #pip fitz amobi x fem reader #emma myers x reader #will delete later #working on a long fic with Pippa #6k as of present

21 notes · View notes

the-deadrobin · 3 months

Text

Jason Todd Headcannons

I will probably add more later, because I surely forgot a few.

Half of these don't make sense, but they're fun.

Jason is a huge Literature nerd and an even bigger Jane Austen fan. He's also a huge romance lover. But he likes the wholesome cutesy shit. (I also think he just loves poems) But even so, he likes Shakespeare especially the tragedies like Macbeth.

He is the only Bat Alfred allows in the kitchen. Jason used to learn to cook from/help cook with Alfred back in his Robin days. Thus he is a surprisingly good cook, second only to Alfred.

Jason smoked when he was an Alley kid before being Robin and he still smokes as Red Hood. He also smokes on rooftops while Bruce has his Galas and the press are all over it.

This one is kinda funny but I love the idea of the Wayne family being like the Kardashians of Gotham (just much more useful) and Dick and Jason are absolute heartthrobs. (I'm so going to elaborate on this with detail in another post)

The Bat-fam don't know about the all-blades, or the all-caste. Because the situation just never called for it.

Anesthesia or sedatives either don't work on him, or wear off him much faster than normal. Same with alcohol.

Being a Gothamite, a Bat, and trained with the League Of Assassins, I imagine Jason has trained himself to have immunity to poisons and toxins (mostly but not all) (I believe its called Microdosing)

Jason has that good old white tuft of hair. Whether from head trauma or the Lazarus remains a mystery.

Jason is dramatic as hell. And extremely petty too. Spite drives this man. He does everything he can (no matter how small or big it might be) to spite Bruce.

Most of his younger siblings don't prank him unless they're looking for all out war, in which him, Dick and Steph form an alliance and go batshit insane (pun not intended)

Leading me to my next point: Jason is very competitive.

He's also a horrible role model because whenever any of the siblings fight (namely Tim and Damian) he just makes shit worse and watches the chaos he helped create.

Jason is big on revenge. He has a list is all I'm saying.

Jason probably has claustrophobia (what with being stuck in a damn coffin and all that)

I think that all of the bat siblings (except Dick, because he has the Big Bro power) has a blackmail list on everyone in the house. But no one can seem to find blackmail for Jason just because Jason is so damn good at covering up what he does that even if it was obvious he did something, there'd be no evidence of it.

Which leads to the fact that I think Jason is an extremely good liar. And he uses that to make his lies really weird and borderline crazy but people still believe him because he's just so convincing. Like, whenever he lies to Bruce, Bruce just believes it. And the other batkids are in the corner like: what??? It wasn't even a convincing lie!! But then they find out about an instance Jason has pulled this shit on them and realise how believable it actually is. (And that was only when he was caught) but Jason never does this to Alfred, because no matter what Alfred can always catch his lies.

Jason regularly has tea time with Alfred. They talk about books, food, Jason's schemes to fuck with his family and Alfred secretly gives him ideas. But everyone else in the family aside from Bruce and Jason always think Alfred is this innocent old man.

Also one of my favourites is that Jason jokes about his death. A lot. Everytime he sees an opportunity he takes it. Bruce and Dick (and to some degree Tim) are so uncomfortable everytime he does it, but Steph and Damian find it the funniest thing ever. Duke has absolutely no clue why Jason keeps making these jokes about dying, because no one told the poor guy. Cass is as clueless as Duke and Babs is always caught so off guard by it. Alfred is always mortified but he doesn't show it because he knows its Jason's coping mechanism.

I wholeheartedly believe that Jason drops off the face of the Earth occasionally. He just goes completely off-grid, no one (except sometimes Roy or Steph) know how to contact him or where he went. Not a single bat can find him when he does this. And that half the time he's doing this, he's just going to the Fields Of All to hang out with Ducra and some monks, or having mother son bonding time with Talia. Then the other half he's either having a nuch needed vacation in the beach, or going on a extremely dark and broody conquest to solve a large case and ultimately failing into its rabbithole and never attempting to get out. (He hates to admit it, but it's a lot like Bruce sometimes)

When Jason is out as Jason Wayne he totally wears makeup. Either just foundation to cover up his scars, or when he's feeling it maybe some black eyeliner and eyeshadow for Galas. So almost nobody recognises him as Jason Wayne while he's in normal civvies and he can wander Gotham freely. (Unlike Dick, who has to style his hair differently, wear a cap, change his wardrobe and still gets paparazzis)

Jason regularly quotes book and poems and the only person who has a chance of understanding him is Alfred.

This whole tumblr post.

Jason died before the Internet became as huge as it is now. So, Jason is the least technologically advanced in the family. He's the equivalent of a grandfather. Barely can use a computer without yelling for someone. Goes into Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss mode upon realising the stupidity of the scenario. It drives Tim and Babs insane. More of that here.

Everyone knows he loves Wonder Woman. He has Wonder Woman clothes, a bottle, a figurine, comics, etc. Once, he got a small tattoo of her logo under his ear mainly to spite Bruce. (Because he has accepted that, that's half his life purpose at this point).

But secretly, under the Wonder Woman jackets and tucked in between the pages of the comics are Green Arrow shirts and bookmarks. Only because he knows Bruce notices these small things and it gnaws away at him because Jason has never touched Batman merch since his ressurection. Roy does the same thing but with Batman merch.

Jason and Damian met in the League Of Assassins and were pretty close before going to Gotham for entirely different reasons. No one in the family knows about this and always wonder why they can communicate so well without using a word. (They did that a lot while sneaking around Nanda Parbat so Ra's wouldn't notice).

Jason and Steph are absolute besties. They're a chaos duo who love tormenting Bruce and are practically bff soulmates. But it's strictly platonic.

He's the kind of guy who would unironically recite a monologue from Macbeth without a hit him, just to motivate his goons.

#jason todd #jason todd headcannons #idk why its so detailed #red hood #red hood headcannons

35 notes · View notes

ethereal-bumble-bee · 4 months

Text

come with me- Crutchie

(Note: I know, I’ve already written like three oneshots that are just letters from Crutchie, but I absolutely adore his character and letters are one of the best forms of expression in my opinion- it’s just something about someone’s heart poured out onto a page that inspires me. This is in a world where Jack moved to Santa Fe after the strike, leaving Crutchie and the others behind. Enjoy!)

Dear Jack,

It’s been a while hasn’t it? Almost ten years now, if I remember right… damn, it’s almost surreal to think of all the time that’s passed since I last saw your face. We miss you, all of us do, Racer and Dave and hell, even Spot Conlon. Santa Fe’s a long way away.

I guess you really had to go away, though. It was a long time coming, I’m sure- you’ve been dreaming of the plains and desert of New Mexico since we were ten. Right now, I’d guess that you’re settled somewhere outside, sketching the landscape with a broken charcoal pencil and a scrap of stolen paper as the world flies by you, your heart full of happiness and relief.

No more talking about that, though. I need to ask you something, something that’s been eating at me since the moment we said our goodbyes. I’m sitting in Miss Medda’s theater, where you used to paint sets for her, because I can’t keep wondering any longer.

Do you miss us?

Do you miss the days when you were free, when all the responsibility you had was to survive until your next meal? Do you miss the fights, the jokes, the laughter and the tears, all experienced under the roof that nurtured the man you are today? Do you miss us newsies and everything we went through together?

What about Katherine? Do you think of her often, that girl with the fiery red hair and a way with words that would make Shakespeare tear up with awe? Do you miss the days you spent reminiscing about that first kiss up on the rooftop, the fit of passion and anger that made you fall in love for the very first time?

Davey- that beautiful boy, shaking like a leaf when you first met him, growing into the bravest and most dedicated leader Manhattan had ever seen- do you still love him? He never moved on after you, Jack. He’s got a job with the Journal, editing articles and making enough to support his family now. He’s got enough money to have a nice house in the suburbs, a wife, and a litter of youngins, but I think he’s holding onto the hope that you’ll come back.

We all are, if I’m honest. It’s been different around here without you.

You’d be proud, if only you were here to see how well we’ve done. Race made it big betting at the races and now he and Spot have got this little business opened together, living off of the winnings plus the profits. Specs has got himself a job working on a steamboat and now he’s seeing the world, and JoJo’s a pastor now, preaching every Sunday. You wouldn’t hardly recognize us, I don’t think- we’ve all grown so much, so far past the scared little kids we used to be.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever changed that much.

I have to go now. If you ever get this letter, please respond. I’d love to know that you’re okay, that Santa Fe was just as beautiful as you thought it would be, that you’ve got a lass and a good sum of cash in your pocket. If you haven’t already forgotten us, please write back. I miss you.

Your brother,

Crutchie

#newsies #newsies musical #jack kelly #crutchie #crutchie morris #crutchie newsies #jack newsies #letters from crutchie hooray #newsies 1992 #livesies #92sies #1992sies #newsies uk #uksies

24 notes · View notes

oonajaeadira · 6 months

Text

State of the WIP Address

I finally solved some issues that were a block in my Alpha!Javi piece and damn did the words flow like wine last night. I ended up scrapping everything I wrote before and giving into a much angstier plot. It has a happy ending, but it's gonna take some trial to get there. And it now smacks of something like a soulmates fic as well? I dunno. I added in a bunch of new thoughts to how the a/b/o system works and how the animal instincts present themselves in caring relationships and familial behaviors and I'm enjoying that so much better.

But I probably won't have it 100% done by the time I leave for my vacation on Monday. I'm hoping to have it ready to go by late next week. Sorry for the long wait. I'll put some proof down below under the cut.

Completed this week:

A Welcome Home at Resolution Ranch (Jack Daniels)

On the docket:

PATS: Kiss and Tell sessions and GTTT4

Leave Off Your Wandering: Winter and Spring Again

Oberyn sex pollen trope

Javi a/b/o trope

shakespeare mashup trope

modern dom Pero

Losing My Religion 14

Proof of alpha!javi (or rather, not alpha!javi) under the cut.

“Do you think we’ll get married someday? When we’re grown up?”

It was a rainy day and you were stuck inside, staring out at the waves through the window. Fully invested in watching a gull and its mate fight the wind in order to stay aloft together, you didn’t give much thought to something that seemed so obvious. “Probably.”

After a minute you realized Javi had lost interest in the birds and was picking at a spot on the windowsill. His honey curls hung down long enough to shield his eyes, but still left his chubby cheeks and little pout visible to you.

“What’s wrong, Javi? Don’t you want to marry me when we’re older?”

Even at eight years old, the boy could seemingly carry so much weight on his little heart. “Mother says you’re an omega and you’ll want to marry an alpha.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I can marry who I want.”

“I’m not an alpha. You won’t want me when you’re older.”

You weren’t sure what to say then, as a child nothing seemed so complicated that there couldn’t be an easy solution. “Maybe you’ll become an alpha when you’re older.”

He shook his head mournfully, the rain on the windows sending shadow tear trails down his face. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to be so mean and dominance-driven. Father says even if I was a late presenter, it would have happened by now.”

“Well, I don’t mind, Javi. Even if you’re not an alpha, you smell like one to me and that’s what’s important, right?”

#state of the wip address

13 notes · View notes

thief-of-eggs · 5 months

Note

HI Ok this is probably going to sound completely unhinged but bear with me: I have this issue where I have lots of ideas (usually very vague ones) for stories that I love to imagine writing—but when I actually get around to writing them I just stare at a blank page; or I have no idea for plot beyond some abstract concepts—I’ve been thinking a lot about Snowjanus recently, and—this is the unhinged part—one of my main interests is early American history and there was this guy named William Strachey who was the secretary of Jamestown, and also an attempted poet, and when I read TBOSAS I realized that I recognized the name Sejanus from one of his poems VPON SEIANVS, which was prefaced to Ben Johnson’s Seianus His Fall,—and it all just works so nicely together since they were contemporaries of Shakespeare (AND Seianus His Fall was performed at the Globe, and Strachey’s story of being shipwrecked very likely inspired The Tempest) who of course wrote The Tragedie of Coriolanus—now thematically or narratively I have no idea how these things would all fit together—I have a lot of other random ideas like that, or vibes but nothing concrete—this is basically a long-winded way of asking if you had any advice on how to go from “man this idea sure would be neat” to an actual story? (I’m obsessed with your writing btw <3)

Hi hi!!! I am happy to help!! Also I understand exactly what you mean- I only hope that my advice actually makes sense!!!

Ok so- for me personally, when it comes to getting rough ideas out onto a page, I have a couple different methods I follow:

- The first is, if I already have parts of a whole scene in mind, but I don’t know the beginning/ending, I often just write the part that I know. So if that means writing the climax for a story, even though I have no idea how I’ll get the plot there? Oh well. At least the idea is out, and often times that will inspire me more.

- If I have a hazy idea but no plot yet, I like to write out little bullet points. Sometimes bullet points as simple as: (using my fic Thoughts of you Consume as an example)

- Coryo and Sejanus begin to have hate sex

- Coryo starts to feel something more

- Sejanus pulls away. Coryo chases after

Like! Those bullet points give me NOTHING. But they also give me a baseline to begin working off of, and from there I can begin to envision where I want it to go. I’ll expand on each bullet point and add subcategories, which only helps make the plot outline grow

- Another method that I sometimes use is to just spitball ideas. I’ll set a timer sometimes, or just devote myself to the task, and will just write out any ideas that come to mind with a particular prompt, and then I take it from there. Example for the prompt “snowjanus first kiss”, I may write out stuff like this:

- Coryo kisses Sejanus after the arena scene, his emotions a whirl

- Sejanus kisses Coryo on the train, too damn happy to see him

- Their first kiss is a dare, and Coryo wont back down

- Sejanus kisses Coryo after a party, when they’re both mildy drunk and confused. Sejanus forgets it, but Coryo never does.

Then from there, I’ll examine each little start and see what I like best. In this scenario, I really like the last one (shoot now I’ll have to turn that into a fic lolol) so my next step would be to outline the plot. When does the party take place? How long does Coryo hold the knowledge in? Does he ever tell Sejanus?

And most importantly- how do I want the story to end? With them together? With Sejanus hanging? With the start of the 10th hunger games?

- One final method I do is daydreaming. I’ll put on a playlist inspired by the pairing and see where it takes me (thoughts of you consume was actually inspired by 2 songs- War of Hearts, and Howl by Florence + the machine). I’ll let my mind make whatever connections it wants to make, and I’ll jot down ideas as they come!

Sorry for the overly complex answer- I guess at the end of the day, I really have no tried and true method. It all depends on how inspired I am.

But I hope one of these methods can be useful to you!! The biggest thing I think is to not be afraid of writing stuff that you may end up discarding. If a connection doesn’t work, if a plot point doesn’t fit- it’s ok to scrap it!! It sucks to lose time, but if it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit.

I’d definitely recommend that you write out all the ways that Snowjanus connects to the historical elements that you said! Determine if you want to write some sort of crossover set in old times, or if you want to bring historical figure’s personality traits onto the characters of Sejanus and Coriolanus.

So yeah! I hope this helps, and feel free to reach out with any other questions!!! Sorry, my brain is quite a mess lol, but best of luck to you!!

#fic writing #writing advice #fanfic author #writing #author #ao3 #snowjanus

10 notes · View notes

edosianorchids901 · 1 year

Text

It's a Dry Heat

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "an eternal summer"

“You know,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully, “I always thought an eternal summer sounded lovely.”

It took a second for the words to register; Crowley had been desperately sucking down the remaining water in his canteen. When he got the few drops, he looked to Aziraphale. “Wot.”

“Eternal summer. You know, like in Shakespeare’s Sonnets?”

“I think that’s a metaphor, angel. Thy eternal summer. Youth. Not literal summer.”

“I know it’s a metaphor.” For a moment, Aziraphale just pouted at him. “But I still thought the real thing would be lovely. Such a nice change from the chill.”

Crowley held his canteen above his mouth and shook it, hard. No water left, though. “And now?”

“Well…” Expression still thoughtful, Aziraphale looked over the cracked, barren soil that stretched out lifelessly in every direction. “I don’t think that anymore.”

“Lucky for you this is only normal summer, then.” Snorting, Crowley shook his canteen again. But nope. Nothing. “I told you we shouldn’t leave the damn path and cut across the desert.”

“It’s all desert, dear boy.”

“The other desert areas had plants.” Which meant water. Here, not so much. There was nothing here.

Aziraphale heaved a dramatic sigh as they clambered over the next crumbling hill to be greeted by even more dry ground. “I told you we ought to have taken up those cattleboys on their offer.”

“Cowboys,” Crowley snapped.

“But no, you had no desire to ride horses…”

“Horses are wankers. And honestly, they’d probably be dying right about how. Horses need water more than we do.” Technically speaking, angels and demons didn’t need water at all. But he and Aziraphale were both used to drinking something regularly—tea, coffee, cocoa, alcohol—and the inability to do so made Crowley twitchy. “D’ya have any left?”

Aziraphale wiggled his canteen. “I’m afraid not. And we have absolutely no clue how far we are from greener lands. I fear we shall perish.”

“Fuck that. I’ve had enough of trudging across the desert.” Crowley drew a deep breath, gathering energy. And then, exhaling slowly, he manifested his wings.

Black feathers stretched to the sky, and he closed his eyes as the heat of the sun seeped through them. The sun felt terrible on his corporation, but wings were different. Closer to his true nature, that of the serpent, and the serpent liked basking in sunlight.

Aziraphale gave him a skeptical look. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

“Why not?” Crowley gave an experimental flap, and sand swirled around their feet.

“Well, someone might see us, for one thing.”

“Who’s gonna see us out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Not leaving time for argument, Crowley blasted into the air.

He flew in one big loop above Aziraphale’s head before the angel’s white wings appeared, and another full loop before Aziraphale launched into the air and joined him. Crowley flashed a bright grin, and Aziraphale glared in response. “I-I still don’t think this is a good idea. I’m very out of practice.”

“Me too.” Crowley looped around him again, muscles aching as he flapped his wings, twisted, dove. But it was a good ache, and it felt damn good to stretch his wings after so long. “But it’s this or probably discorporate from heat stroke.”

“I don’t want to discorporate from heat stroke.”

The matter settled, Crowley launched himself forward. The desert zoomed past underneath, seeming almost like nothing now that they weren’t crossing it step by step. His mouth remained dry, lips cracked, and skin roasted by the sun. But in a way, this was almost enjoyable now.

He and Aziraphale had never gotten to do this before, to really fly together. Hadn’t known each other in Heaven, and even in the early days on Earth they hadn’t done much more than coast down from high places. But full out flight, riding air currents while turning to occasionally grin at each other, was way more fun than he could have guessed.

And then he spotted it, green up ahead, the glint of sunlight off water. “Down there!” he called to Aziraphale, veering towards it.

They rocketed over a ranch, and a couple faces turned up towards them. Whoops. Hopefully they’d just get to be the subjects of a cool legend or something. Crowley might start one himself when they got to a town.

Crowley’s legs buckled as soon as he hit the ground, fatigue slamming into him all at once. But he was right on the shore of a small lake, and he scrambled forward to it with relief. He plunged his hands into the water, splashed it across his face, and then scooped up more to drink.

The heat of the sun vanished a split second later, and he looked up to see a white wing stretched overhead. “Gosh. Thanks, angel.”

“Of course. This was an excellent idea, my dear. And in truth, I rather enjoyed our flight.” Aziraphale beamed at him, then knelt for his own drink.

The white wing remained outstretched, providing shade, and Crowley smiled. All in all, he and Aziraphale might argue their way through trouble. But even an eternal summer wouldn’t be so bad if he and Aziraphale could spend it together.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

28 notes · View notes

aoxue · 9 months

Note

no but also 3chen 3zun and songxiao 💖💖💖

Ask game

Going in reverse order! 💖

Ship: SONGXIAO

Ship it? I am a songxiao fan first and a MDZS fan second

1) What made you ship it? Those like, two minutes in CQL where it is revealed that Xiao Xingchen dug out his eyes and gave them to Song Lan and then immediately proceeds to kill Song Lan. And then after, watching XXC kill himself and destroy his soul after learning what he's done to SL, and SL going off to care for and nurture what's left of him for the next eternity. It is peak drama out here for these men. Shakespeare kind of nonsense. It did take reading up on details from the novel, since CQL does miss out on some of the key details (as most of the adaptations do), for all the pieces to come together. But then after that, also reading a lot of fixit fic! I have been gone for them ever since

2) What are your favorite things about the ship? It's about the mutual love, trust, and respect. It's the terrible selflessness. It's the devotion that transcends death itself. It's about having your own life with your own tasks and motivations and morals, but being so lucky as to find another person who understands you and is in sync enough that you can walk your paths side by side and work together toward the dreams you create together. And yet it's also about literally losing pieces of yourself for the sake of another person. It's about horrific acts done out of love with only the best intentions at heart. It's the way none of this tragedy would have befallen them if they didn't care about each other so damn much. It's two very attractive and extremely competent and good-hearted men in the most yin/yang relationship I've ever seen. It's the purported universal touch aversion with one (1) special exception. (This is fanon, but I really love the explicit conversations about consent and boundaries that these two have in fic, even for something as simple as holding hands. Aspec songxiao, also a great flavor.) It's the watching, dumbfounded, as the guy you like splits his sides laughing at wuxia China's most mediocre joke. It's home being another person. It's A-Qing getting to have two dads. I could go on.

3) Is there an unpopular opinion you have about this ship? As much as I think about these guys, probably multiple! I disagree when people say the relationship was weak to have fallen apart so easily, or when people vilify Song Lan for acting the way he did in the aftermath of the Baixue massacre. It's as if an outside entity carried out extreme acts of violence specifically tailored to ruin these guys' lives in the most hurtful way possible. I think that'd put, like, at least a little strain on any relationship between two people, probably. It might also make the direct victim of some of this violence a little upset, and perhaps liable to say a thing or two he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment. Seeing as he is a human person. Who knows.

---

Ship: 3ZUN

Ship it? Yes, but only casually, I admit

1) What made you ship it? As a CQL native, the dynamics are clearly worked into the show, especially xiyao, as well as some nieyao, and they make an impact, for sure. But honestly, a large part of it also comes from the 3zun fanwork I've seen people produce? There is some STELLAR stuff out there about these guys. It's helped win me over.

2) What are your favorite things about the ship? It's the way all three of them would like to make things work, and all three of them care about each other, but each have their own approaches to life that are so in conflict with the others. This post sums it up really well for me: NMJ was raised to live honorably and die young, JGY was raised to survive and be secure, and LXC was raised to take responsibility for everyone around him. I really like the xiyao dynamics of "I've done every evil thing someone can do, but you are the one living person I hold sacred" and "you helped me at my lowest and I see you the way nobody else does (which is simultaneously a truer version of you and STILL ALSO an awful facade)." The utter betrayal while still genuinely caring for a person and then dying in front of them, leaving them to unpack all of that on their own for the next however many years. nielan presumably hit the sect heirs to friends to lovers/sect leaders thrust into power too young and dealing with the heavy weight of what their fathers left behind beats. nieyao had something going for them before it all went sideways and pretty soon you're monologuing to your ex's severed head in your secret evil lair/closet. Not a great look, Yaoyao

3) Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I know that's part of the appeal for some people, but once we move from Meng Yao to Jin Guangyao, the nieyao leg of 3zun gets a pretty dicey and it becomes a harder sell for me. When JGY's main objective becomes maintaining a secure position in the Jin clan (including defaulting to JGS's opinions, which NMJ is known to disagree with, vocally, and semi-frequently), it's hard for me to get them to a place where I'd find them compatible enough to ship. And certainly when JGY starts to sabotage NMJ, that's a total no-go for me :/ I'm keeping them away from each other

---

Ship: 3CHEN

Ship it? Yes!

1) What made you ship it? I don't actually remember an inciting incident, exactly? I am sure it had to do with happenings on the lanlan discord. Probably comes down to being a lanlan appreciator, but also songxiao being my #1 at the end of the day, and wanting, as ever, for Song Lan to catch a break, perhaps even some slack. I really do think these three would work very well together, especially after all they've been through by the end of MDZS. There is so much healing they can do together. They've all been dealt a really rough, but kind of similar, hands. Lan Xichen and Song Lan have the grief and survivor guilt over their respective dear friends/bfs that they can process together (and for the ship to work, I think this step needs to come first before XXC reenters the picture). Lan Xichen and Xiao Xingchen both had their good faith taken advantage of, which led to the deaths of innocent people and men they loved, and they have similar guilt to process. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen have their shared history (see: everything above), and they're dealing with different sides of the same traumatic events; they also have a lot of work to do to learn how to exist around each other again comfortably. Put all 3 of these guys in the same place, and you have a lot to work with, I think. Also, Song Lan has two hands (let him have two beautifully kind and loving boyfriends)

2) What are your favorite things about the ship? The dynamics and healing potential explained above! But also, I think the characters are fun together. They're all good boys who would all love and support each other. They're all enormously skilled cultivators, and would be a match for each other in that regard. None of them care about social status in their judgements of people. Xichen is well versed in sect politics and policy, while songxiao are the type to effect change through direct, small-scale action, with Song Lan being the more practical and Xiao Xingchen being less limited by societal expectations; working together, they could improve things for a lot of people more effectively than they could apart. I like Song Lan's steady, serious devotion with Xiao Xingchen's softness and light silly streak and Lan Xichen's good humor and patience. I like Song Lan being able to step outside when he's had enough touch for the moment while his bfs can keep getting their cuddles in, and then blushing as hard as a fierce corpse can when he comes back indoors and gets one little kiss on the cheek from each of them.

3) Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? It's a small ship, so I'm not sure… But I think A-Qing should be in the 3chen picture. (I also think this about post-canon Yi City fixits generally.) If you're working in canon conditions, and you're doing the work to resurrect Xiao Xingchen in some creative way or another, why wouldn't you bring A-Qing along, too. She's probably easier to bring back than XXC. She also deserves better. She could have THREE dads. Imagine

#asks #songxiao #3chen #yeahhh i'm not gonna put this in the 3zun tag lol #ily thank you! <3 #aoxue.txt

16 notes · View notes

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

Note

Hi there! Absolutely love your Eddie stuff! If I may, can I request something heartwarming – like the (male or gn) reader ends up giving Eddie a ride home when he gets caught in the rain and the two end up having a deep conversation that ends up in some feelings getting spilled? <3

Oh, we've got one dose of angst and fluff coming right up!

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

_______________________

It starts all because of a project in English. You're placed into pairs, by Ms. Barlowe, to take famous scenes in Shakespeare's play to translate them into more modern times. It's only with a little bit of regret do you look over to Eddie's seat. He'd gone a little too hard last night on the gig at The Hideout and probably using the hangover as an excuse to sneak over to Reefer Rick's. The air was warming up. The grass and trees were turning a hair more green. He'd need more to sell soon and it's not necessarily a new practice for Eddie to take a random weekday to handle other means of business.

He didn't love having to do it, but he did what he had to do. And much like Eddie, you do what you need and you collect an extra of the instructions as they're passed out for Eddie. Ms. Barlowe beams from the front of the class. It was a project everyone knew was coming for their unit. She did it every year. Everyone talked about the "surprise" at the end which was pairs would perform their transcribed scenes.

The thing that truly sucks is that you know this is not an activity where you can pick your own partner. Pairs are selected before the project is introduced. Given Ms. Barlowe's track record, she was not going to pair people who always worked together up which means the likelihood of you and Eddie winding up together is slim and pushing zero.

The class shuffles about as pairs are put together. Your name is called and then you hear a name you think could freeze blood. "Jason Carver."

He scoffs. "Of course, the freak's little assistant."

You roll your eyes at the taunt. "If you're nice, I'll show you the ropes," you return lowly.

Jason's gaze is hot and full of disgust. "Do me a favor and drop dead."

"Scared that you might like it."

"Alright, you two!" Ms. Barlowe interjects. "I will not be reassign partners so you two are just going to have to learn how to work it out and get through this assignment."

You shrug. You'll survive but you can't help but feel a bit of smugness at the way Jason's seems absolutely uncomfortable at the idea. The rest of the class you two spend giving just long enough sentences to answer the questions but nothing that would constitute a real conversation.

By the end of the day, you head over to Eddie's place to find him strumming at his guitar, not plugged into any amp on the front porch a cigarette hanging from his lips. He grins as he spots your car pulling in front of the trailer. He is less pleased when you go digging into your backpack to pull out the dreaded manilla folder. He groans head falling back into the cushion of the couch.

"You just got here. Don't do this to me," he huffs, taking the folder from your hands.

"At least when I leave it'll be so much sweeter," you tease, falling into the seat next to him. Eddie is careful to lift the instrument and even leaves to get it back inside so it's safe. When he returns, two cans in hand, he extends one to you.

"You hate Coke?" you question. It's your favorite but not what Eddie normally goes for.

"Just take the damn soda," he mumbles around the button of the cigarette still pressed between his lips. You take the cold can with a nod. "Tell me this is the year where Barlow let us pick partners.

You shake your head. "Nope, I'm with Carver."

Eddie tries to tell himself he shouldn't be angry. Barlowe never lets people pick pairs for this project. Yet, he can't help the small flare and tick in his jaw. If Barlowe is going to give the class hell about not being able to pick partners, the last he wants for you is that you have a shitty one. "Tell me the prick is behaving?" Eddie should be more mindful of how the question comes out.

But you hear it--the way it's clipped and thick with disdain. Eddie is pissed. You opt not to tell him about the spat you and Jason have and especially don't tell him about Jason called you Eddie's "little assistant". Because sure you and Eddie were close, but you were just friends. And though it was painful to remind yourself of that, given how casually affectionate Eddie can be, friends is almost all you're most likely to get from Eddie.

Like right now, Eddie's arm is thrown around the back of the couch and he finds purchase on your shoulder. But it's casual. He's reclined back into the cushion, rings clinking against the can as he readjusts his grip on it. "I'll survive," you return. "How was your sick day?"

"Boring," Eddie laughs.

He rests the can on his thigh and thinks how his head splitting in half woke up him up. But what he wanted more than anything was to hang out with you. He wanted to hear you laugh and attempt to poorly sing the songs on the radio. Eddie wanted share bowls of cereal while watching you attempt to put together an itinerary for the day. You are a planner. He is the driver and it's how it always works--when the two of you want to get up to things, you plan, Eddie drives.

Eddie likes to think if he ever asked you to rob a bank with him, you'd already have a whole plan in place. And maybe sometimes it's just someone to sit at Lovers Lake and contemplate existence or staying hours in the local library curating the perfect stack of books to read.

All Eddie knows is that every second is better when it's spent with you. And the two of you talk almost until dark, creeping centimeters closer and closer. It's a knee first and then falling into each other as you laugh. It's easy here on the front porch of the trailer to give in to the gentle and probably not even noticeable taunts.

The project would go by like everything else except for when Eddie calls in the morning right before you're leaving to head to school. "The van's not starting, can I bum a ride?"

It's easy to say yes and when you show up to Eddie's place ten minutes later, he's quick to duck into the passenger seat. The sky is grayer than normal and you wonder if before spring fully blossoms winter plans on giving you one more dreary day. As you pull into the parking lot of the school, you call out Eddie's name softly over the quiet crooning of your car's radio.

"What's up?" he returns, hand already clutching the handle to let himself out. He doesn't want to make you late and he knows he's cutting it close by needing the last minute ride.

"I agreed to stay back to work with Jason for the last bits of this project. I don't know how long it's going to take but, uh, if you need someone else to give you a ride, I understand."

Eddie shakes his head. "I don't have anything else today. Unfortunately no hot dates have come my way yet," he laughs. It pains him to make the joke but he makes it anyway but that's what friends do, right.

"If you're sure?"

"Yeah, dude, I'm sure," he laughs and then opens the door to peel himself form the car. Eddie gets his bag on his back and then starts for the front doors. You watch him for a moment and hope you didn't really imagine the flash of sadness through his eyes.

Eddie keeps his head down as he approaches the building and turns the corner for the first bathroom near the entrance the second he can. He throws himself into a stall and locks it behind himself. His head hits the door and he exhales shakily. He shouldn't wait, he knows. It would be easier to have someone else give me a ride home, but Eddie doesn't want anyone else to drive him home. He wants you to do it.

He wants to listen to Madonna on the radio and laugh at your terrible falsetto. He wants you, but it feels like it'll never happen. He'll be stuck always wanting and never having. And given this, the suffering is worth it. If he can't have it all, he can at least hold onto what he can have this way.

Eddie doesn't look at you much the rest of the day. Even at lunch, he laughs, but his eyes never fall onto you. The space between the two of you feels thick, like you could cut it with a knife it's so tangible. When you tell Eddie you and Jason will be in the library, Eddie only nods and keeps his gaze trained on the ground.

You want to ask then what is going on. But don't get the chance before Eddie stalks off in the direction of the drama room--where Eddie said he'd hang out while you and Jason worked-- and Jason approaches from behind you. You pray the final touches on this project are swift. The forty-five minutes it takes to get through your final revisions and final practice feels like an eternity.

You have to tell yourself that every thirty seconds that you glance at the clock will add another hour. But you can't help it. You want the seconds to go by faster so you can talk to Eddie, see if you can dig up what's really beneath the surface. Jason all but runs out of the library when you two declare that this is as good as it's going to get dealing with Hamlet.

When you knock on the drama door, though it's already cracked, you can see Eddie pouring over something in one of his binders, pencils a flurry in his hands. "Occupied," Eddie returns to the sound of your knock.

"Shit, didn't realize they'd converted this into a bathroom over the course of the day," you laugh.

Eddie snorts and then looks up. "Done already?"

"Jason can't hang," you tease, hoping it'll make Eddie laugh again but the sound is hollow against your ears.

The walk to your car is quiet between the two of you and you're noticing now as you step out from the awning of the school that it's raining. You and Eddie make quick work to get to your car and once inside you turn the heat just a little to help dry you two out a little faster.

"My place?" you offer. "Restocked on Mountain Dew."

"Oh, actually, I-I told Wayne I'd fix this thing around the house and-and I should probably get to that before he-he gets home," Eddie returns. It's a lie and it falls clumsily from his lips.

The rain pitters softly against the roof the car. "Bullshit, Eddie," you huff, but turn the key in the ignition. You throw the car into reverse and look behind you before you start reversing.

Your hand comes up and grips the back of Eddie's seat as you navigate the car out of the space and Eddie almost kreens into the touch. He almost gives in, but he reminds himself that you two are just friends.

"You don't get to call bullshit," Eddie returns softly. "It's-it's true."

"What do you have to fix?"

"A valve to the shower." If a shower is metaphor for a heart, but Eddie doesn't say that last part aloud. He just stares out of the window shield.

"Was it something I did today?" you ask, replaying the entire day in your head. It all started this morning. But all you'd done is given him a ride.

"It's-it's not you."

"Don't tell me it's you. You can't do that, Eds. It's cliche. I can handle the truth," you huff, taking the right onto the street carefully as you know it's prone to flooding in heavy rains.

"It's us," Eddie answers.

"What-what about us?" The question catches in your throat. Whatever Eddie said next would alter everything--better or worse, but things would change and all it would take was an utterance of Eddie's voice to change it. You don't know if you're more excited for the possibility or more anxious about this all shattering, but you need it change. In the moment as Eddie doesn't quite get his words out, you realize you need something to give even if it's earth shattering. "What about us?" you ask again.

"I want--" Oh Eddie can't say it. How does he put into words how he wants just to sit and do nothing with you. He wants to be the one you tell everything too, even if it's minor and seems trivial to the word--Eddie wants it. How does one articulate the desire to hold every piece of someone knowing they are falliable and it could all go wrong but wanting the honor of a chance anyway.

"I want everything," Eddie starts. It feels complete on its own but more knocks against his teeth. "I want to hold you hand and I want to tell you about the lyrics that are in my head and I want you to want me too. In every way possible and I know we've been friends for years. But holy shit, we just--we work and I am a cynic. Self proclaimed because I have Daddy issues and let's be honest, it's sort of just a result of what's happened and keeping everyone away makes it less likely for someone else to hurt me. But I want you to hurt me. Like, I want to know it's risky and not care if it blows up because at least I got the shot with you. I-I just want us to be more than what we are."

You laugh. You fucking laugh because you can't think of anything else to do as the tears well in your eyes. The rain blurs as the tears build and you pull over onto the shoulder of the road and drop your head onto the headrest. Eddie gets the car into park for you, realizing you haven't moved to do it yourself.

"You are so--" you laugh and then lift your head. "Eddie, I have literally been driving myself insane trying to read your signals. Because I couldn't tell if it was just how you were or if you wanted what I wanted too. I hate Mountain Dew, you know."

Eddie nods. "I know."

"But I don't want to hurt you," you state, stretching over the console.

Eddie closes his eyes at the feeling of your hand on his cheek--how your long digits hold his cheek so firmly.

"Look-look at me," you command.

Eddie follows it, eyes dripping in worry when they land on you. "Yeah?"

"I want you to teach me how to love you. I like you already. I want you already, but I-I don't know how to love you and I need you to teach me that. I want to learn that. I want to listen to all the lyrics and I want you to hate me when I try to talk sports to you, but you listen anyhow because you know I care. I want to get hideous sweaters together for Jeff's Christmas party and win goddamn it because you know everything is a competition with me. I want to teach you how to love me too. How-how does that sound?"

Eddie blinks, trying to clear the tears from his lashline but he smiles, hands coming up to your chin. "That sounds like a hell of a ride that I want to be on."

"Good," you exhale with a tuft of laughter. "Because I'm not getting off."

There's only inches between the two of you and you close the distance sealing your lips around Eddie's. You revel in the way he pushes into you, pushes every so gently into the kiss like he can't get in close enough. His hand slides to your cheek now and your stomach flips at the feeling of his calluses, bumping over your skin.

Eddie breaks away from the kiss first, "Prepared to be sick of me now," he laughs.

"Oh, I was sick of you years ago," you retort nipping at his plump bottom lip. "Just wait until you see how unbearable I can be."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #h writes #stranger things

102 notes · View notes

oh-cawsh · 5 months

Text

9 people to get to know better

thanks for tagging me @ghostradiodylan !!

1. Three ships: Rylan my beloved they do no wrong. theyre the epitome of awkward bashful and honest gay summer teen romance with the perfect contrasting note of horrific life threatening monsters which is unsurpassable genre peak. and yeah ngl its pretty rare that i get behind a ship but two others i can think of are amity/luz from the owl house (but mostly in season 1 because they do cute anxious crushing stuff and after that they just kind of turn into supportive gf A and supportive gf B), and legosi/louis from beastars because how do you just gloss over neurotic homophobe slut ptsd theatre twink x weird brooding puritan loser freudian pervert and the fact that it does WORK too like hello

2. First ever ship: i wanna say gregg and angus from night in the woods?? i remember i was in that weird sexual orientation puberty where you literally know you're gay but it's not like a consciously meaningful part of your identity so i remember seeing them and thinking wow that's cool that they're boyfriends i guess idk. also i'm inexorably drawn to their existence for some reason and my lockscreen is them cuddling with the lazy morning light peeking through the curtains

3. Last song: My Kink is Karma - Chappell Roan, im a sucker for moody electronic pop and that album DELIVERS

4. Last film: i watched the first three movies in a pirates of the caribbean marathon with some friends which ngl after the first one feels like trying to suck sugar water out of a sock 😶 the last film i personally chose to watch was the 1976 Carrie! it was nice being able to watch it and appreciate it as an adult with an education and not a teen recluse going "yeah carrie you show those villain highschoolers what's what"

5. Currently (re)reading: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night! i have my old copy from highschool open next to me and the 2012 shakespeare's globe production up and i just sit and sift between watching and reading and analysing it, just like when i first learned it in class. i'm not really sure why i wanted to reread it again in the first place, but i find it kind of soothing to read older texts where the language and culture's a little ways off from its modern successors. i find it calming to kind of pull those stories back in a way we can understand with its old contexts and writing, and see more and more of that timeless human experience shine through. sudoku for english nerds i guess LOL

6. Currently watching: my watcher's stamina has actually gotten so shit im ngl like i actually haven't watched a show in months 😭😭😭 the last show i watched was bluey (which was pretty good! (and pretty indicative of the kind of attention span ive got these days 😂👌))

7. Currently consuming: this horrible like nutraloaf nightmare bowl i made because my appetite was really poor today and at 5 pm or so i was like ugh well id better eat something quick and dense if im not gonna have a proper meal so i insulted God and put together reheated smashed potato (in the microwave so they lost all their crunch and flavour) + dried roasted edamame beans + peanut butter + regular butter + cheddar + yoghurt + whole salted almonds in a bowl and had a slice of walnut fig cake as a side. that thing needed a censor bar like i was in the trenches trying to get that down im ngl. eating that meal took more energy out of me than what it gave back like i knew i made something unholy and then immediately paid for it like it was so frankenstein and his monster right there on that kitchen counter

8. Currently craving: literally anything after that like god damn 😭😭😭😭😭 otherwise ive been hankering for a good chana masala and naan combo cus there's literally never a day where i'll turn south asian cuisine down like aw man i shouldve just gone out and got some of that to eat today ugh god damn it

also im ngl i don't really know who to tag cus i only started having a presence on tumblr like barely a month ago and ive only meaningfully interacted with like 3 people since then so um!! whoever's out there lurking around on my blog if ya wanna participate feel free! and either way, thanks for readin my ramblings regardless :)

#personal #wow this came out like really long i hope thats ok :x #id been meaning to watch ghosts!!! i saw like two loose clips n the first was funny and the second made me tear up #i was like sigh let me add this to the list....#ive been meaning to be more active on here but im gettin caught up in irl business forgive me yall

6 notes · View notes