#what id give for a crumb of this man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ickadori · 5 months

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++ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

[summary] toji and his adorable son stop by the convenience store you work at for a few things and end up trashing the place instead.

[cws] none. sfw. gn reader. idk what this is tbh…

You look up from the book you had been engrossed in when a heavy thud sounds, the counter underneath your elbows shaking as someone sets something down.

“Hi, how are you doing today?” You greet on instinct, fingers sliding your bookmark between the pages before pushing it off to the side. You finally look up, eyes going from the hulking man sporting a compression shirt, to the toddler sitting atop his broad shoulders. The boy is a splitting image of, you’re assuming, his father, and you audibly coo at the way he rubs his eyes with his balled up fists and yawns.

“It’s just this.”

“Huh?” You glance down, taking note of the twelve pack of beer on the counter, along with the barrage of chips, cakes and sour candies. “Oh, alright. Would you like a bag?” You scan the first item, a bag of chips, and after he lets out a gruff ‘yes’, you load it into a plastic bag before going to ring up the rest.

“Give it.” You pause before you can drop the yellow cupcake into the bag, and your nose wrinkles as you drop it into the hand extended towards you. Rude much, you think to yourself, but you can’t hold onto your anger when you see the man rip open the packaging before passing the cake up towards the toddler, who’s eagerly making grabby hands and drooling onto the man’s hair. “Greedy brat.”

“Ba-ba.” The ‘brat’ says in response before he’s stuffing nearly the entire cake into his mouth, and you laugh to yourself when a few crumbs fall into the man’s hair.

After all of the snacks are scanned and bagged up, you move to the case of beer next, your eyes flicking up to the clearly of age man as you purse your lips. You think back to his attitude, and deciding that the night is slow enough to take your time and waste his, you let out a regretful sigh and fold your arms on top of the beer case.

“Sorry, Sir, but I’m gonna need to see some ID.” The man’s lips thins out into a thin line, his eyes cold as they stare you down, and you have to admit, begrudgingly, that he’s incredibly handsome. Too bad he seems like a real dick. “It’s policy. Corporate has really been cracking down on us about asking for ID’s with all these kids coming in and buying alcohol. I just don’t wanna get fired, y’know. My tuition isn’t gonna pay itself.”

“Tch.”

Heh.

He rifles in his pocket for his wallet, and when he pulls it out and cracks it open you nearly apologize and offer to cover the bill. He’s got a picture of his son in there, the little boy swaddled in a blue, fuzzy blanket while two puppies, one white and the other black, curl up on either side of him. How adorable!

“Here.” The ID is slid across the counter, and you pick it up and make a show of narrowing your eyes. Toji Fushiguro. You hum as you look it over, nodding your head and tapping at your chin, and you see Toji’s jaw tick out of your peripherals.

“Hm.” You place the ID back onto the counter and slide it back towards him. “Unfortunately, this is a fake and I cannot accept it.”

“Bullshit.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I should ban you from the store for trying to pull a fast one on me.”

“Stop fucking around. That’s a real ID.” The little boy has finished his cake, and has taken to eating the crumbs from his father’s hair. “Or are you too stupid to know a real from a fake? Might wanna double check the place you’re paying your tuition to, because they’re not teaching you shit.”

You gape for a second, eyes moving between him and the very impressionable child on his shoulders, before huffing out a breath. “What kind of example are you setting for your—is that a dog?” You lean to the side to get a better view of the fluff of white you just saw, and you blink at the dog that’s weaving between Toji’s legs. Is that… the dog from the picture! “It’s a dog!”

“Megumi.” Toji calls, and then he’s reaching his arms up to snag hold of the boy, now known as Megumi, and placing him on the floor. “The dogs don’t come out inside.” Megumi frowns and makes a show of crossing his arms, and you snicker under your breath, causing his attention to turn to you as he looks up.

He looks at you for a moment, and then he’s making a gesture with his hand, which Toji tries to smack away but is too late, and then something soft and fuzzy is brushing against your ankle. The sudden appearance of whatever that was (you were too frazzled to immediately check) punches a scream out of your lungs, and you flinch back, foot accidentally kicking against the thing that had touched you.

An angry bark sounds not even a second later, and the next few moments are nothing short of chaos.

Toji tries to grab the white dog only for it to take off down one of the aisles, jumping at shelves and knocking down everything in its path as it yaps happily. Finally looking down, you see that the black dog from the photo is at your feet —how the hell did behind the counter without you noticing— and growling at you, seemingly miffed about you stepping on them, as if you had meant to do it.

Thinking that you were about to lose a leg, you quickly clamber up onto the counter, prompting the dog to jump up there as well, but they ignore you completely in turn for joining their partner in crime in wrecking the store.

Toji stands in the same spot, Megumi standing off to the side with an expression that seems a bit too smug for a kid his age, and you deflate as you let your legs dangle from the counter, head drooping down until your chin is touching your chest. “Well, I’m fired.” And the pay had been decent, too!

When you look up again, the dogs are gone, the store is thoroughly trashed, and Toji is sipping on one of the beers that he’s yet to pay for. Feeling a bit doomed at the job search ahead of you, you hold your hand out to him. He glances at him and takes a slow sip before speaking.

“Got some ID?”

“Got some money to pay for all the damages your dogs just caused?”

He tuts, but a second later a can of beer is slapped into your hand and you’re cracking the top. You take a sip, face immediately screwing up at the taste, and eye him for a moment. “Hey, where do you work?”

“They’re not hiring.”

“Hmph.” After taking another sip that you hold your breath through, you push the bag of snacks and opened case of beer towards him. “Just take it and go.”

“Megumi.” Toji calls, and the little boy dashes to his side and lifts his arms. He’s picked up in one swift motion and placed back onto his dad’s shoulders, and you hum to yourself.

“One last question.”

Toji is already on his way out of the store as he throws a ‘what’ over his shoulder.

“Are you looking for a babysitter?”

#toji x reader #jjk x reader

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loveshotzz · 2 years

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Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Part One of Five? Series Masterlist.

Summary: When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.

Word count : 3.3K (strangers to friends - friends to lovers)

Warnings: SLOW BURN. None for right now besides the mention of smoking weed but future chapters will be NSFW. My blog is 18 plus.

Authors Note: If anyone is curious this series was inspired by Meatloaf’s Paradise By The Dashboard Light and the idea of being Eddie’s weed dealing passenger princess. I was also inspired by @boomhauer ‘s interpretation of Wayne when I wrote him in this. If you haven’t read disjointed I highly recommend it. Also thank you to my wife @myobmaya for reading it and convincing me it’s good 💞 comments, likes and reblogs are welcome!

Chapter One: Bat Out Of Hell

Leaving the city and disappearing to a small town seemed like a good idea after you dropped out of high school and got your GED. The excitement of a fresh start and the escape of your problems blinded you from one small obstacle. What happens when you run out of weed? It had only been three short months since you moved to Hawkins, making friends had become a nearly impossible feat. No one ever warns you how hard it is to make friends when you’re not in school anymore.

College was for the rich kids. Selling your soul to the work force at sixteen you were more then prepared to live paycheck to paycheck till your last dying breath. The rainy day fund you had saved dwindling dangerously low, you’ve never been more thankful to start a new job in a few days.

The heavy clank of metal pierces your ears, smashing the top and bottom of your grinder together you hope to salvage enough for just one last bowl. The light green powder from the chamber dusts the top of your black coffee table. After one last hard blow you give up with a huff.

Scraping the keef you’d managed to collect with your ID, it’s a steady hand that prepares the fragile task of getting it into your bowl. Taking your time you slowly edge it to the end of the table doing your best not to spill any precious crumbs. Tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, you are the definition of laser focused.

“OBEY YOUR MASTER - MASTER”

The sound of James Hertfield’s voice is so loud you’d think Metallica was having a concert outside of your trailer door. The disturbance makes you jump. The plastic edge of your ID bends back before it pops forward sending the remains of your weed flying to the carpet of your living room. A loud honk of a horn sends another unexpected shock through your body, hands flying your grinder hits the floor with a loud thud.

Eddie fucking Munson.

The only reason you knew his name was because you heard the older man he lived with yelling it all the time. You could tell the older man wasn’t his dad, but the simple interactions you’d see definitely told you they were family.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. Self control dwindling dangerously low, it takes everything inside of you not to storm over there and punch him between the eyes.

When the thought of physical violence starts seeming more like a extreme response you decide a cigarette is better then nothing. Pushing yourself up off the floor you rummage through your purse on the kitchen table. Finding the crumpled pack smashed at the bottom, a relived sigh leaves your lips when there’s still one more.

Crisp October air hits your skin like knives when you step out your front door. The thin material of your black hoodie barely fights the chill in the wind. Sunset filling the sky with hues of pink and orange it crests over the tops of the trees. The crunch of the gravel beneath your feet could still be heard over the sound of Eddie’s van. His music now at a respectable volume since his grumpy ‘roommate’ was standing at the top of the porch steps. The older mans arms are crossed over his chest, the kind of stance that told you he was ready to give the metal head an earful.

Plopping down on at the wooden table in the middle of the park, you cup your hand over your mouth lighting the cigarette. Getting ready for the show, it’s Eddie Munson’s Karma for wasting the last of your weed.

“Boy, what’d I tell you about the volume of your damn music?!”

Jumping out of the van with a slam of his door, he’s wearing the same thing you’ve almost always seen him in. A leather jacket clad with a denim vest, a metal head’s battle vest with a giant DIO patch sloppily sewn on the back. Even at the end of summer when you moved here, you never saw him without it. Nose scrunching up you know a boy like that probably doesn’t even wash it. His hair looked even more wild then usual, long dark waves sticking out in every direction. The extra body in his curls probably from speeding down the back roads with his windows down. Blasting Metallica so loud its a miracle he’s not deaf.

“Uncle Wayne, I didn’t know you were gonna be home.” With his arms behind his back you notice a metal black lunch box, his stance making it painfully obvious he was hiding it from who you now know is his Uncle’s view.

“You didn’t know I was home? You think our neighbors magically don’t complain if I’m not here?” His hands get more animated as his arms uncross, temper flaring at his nephew.

“Look, it’s not gonna happen again can you calm down please?” Moving forward slightly you watch him tuck the lunch box on top of his van tire hidden from view.

Eddie Munson was sneaky.

“Calm down? I’ll show you calm boy.” Stomping down the stairs you watch his uncle flick him between the eyes.

The whole ordeal becoming so entertaining you can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of your mouth. The noise catches both men’s attention, heads snapping in your direction Eddie’s eyes narrow at the grin on your face. It’s not like you hadn’t seen each other before, but it was only ever awkward smiles or the occasional neighborly wave.

“Can you chill you’re embarrassing me.” Eddie’s tone is hushed when he scolds his uncle.

Inhaling a deep puff of your cigarette you exhale through your nose arching your brow. This was better karma then you could have ever asked for.

“Embarrass you? You should be embarrassed, I’m sure she heard you fly in here like a bat out of hell!” Wayne looks back up giving a short wave before addressing you directly. “I apologize for my nephews rudeness, I hope he didn’t disturb you too much.”

His Uncle was doubling down on embarrassing him. Realizing how much you liked this old man, you were more then ready to play his game.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again, scared me so bad I had to come out and smoke!” You give raising your cigarette in the air the prove it. The smirk on your face only grows wider when you see the glare Eddie’s sending your way. He knew what you were doing.

“It definitely won’t. Right?!” Wayne gives Eddie a look that’s just begging for him to try it.

“Yeah, sorry, won’t happen again.” Grumbling you catch the small roll of his eyes.

“Thanks so much!” Sweetness oozing from your voice, you know it’s the added cherry on top.

“Get inside, Dinner’s on the table and I better not get any calls about that guitar playing at 3am again tonight.”

Wayne doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the hidden lunch box as he pushes him up the steps. Both men disappearing into the trailer leaving you alone in the quiet of dusk. Inhaling again, you close you eyes enjoying the peace and quiet for a minute.The low hum of crickets in the distance calming your previously tense mood. Nicotine hitting the the top of your head, the familiar light headed feeling you’d been craving finally consumes you.

The front door opens again half way expecting Eddie, you’re surprised when it’s just Wayne. His bald head is covered by a baseball cap, paper sack lunch in hand. His heavy work boots stomp down their wooden stairs echoing through the quiet of the park. Kind eyes on you again he smiles before he talks.

“I’m Wayne by the way, I noticed you moved in a few months ago. I’m sorry I haven’t come over to say hi, I work nights so I’m asleep for most of the day.” His voice is gruff but warm when he speaks to you, different then the intensity he spoke with his nephew. You can’t help but feel comfortable in his presence.

Light flashes out of an opening from blinds of the front window catching your attention, big brown eyes meet yours and you realize Eddie’s watching the two of you. The sight makes your lips twitch up.

“Hey, don’t even worry about it. I’m y/n, I moved here from Indianapolis.” Smiling with your teeth you try your best to be friendly with your new neighbor.

“Are you parents living with you? You don’t look much older then my nephew.” Racking your brain you decide to give him the least complicated answered you could muster, forgetting how nosy small town people were.

“Uhhh no, it’s just me. Got my GED and just moved somewhere more affordable. I start at Family Video Friday actually.” Biting your bottom lip, you hope this will be enough information for him to stop pressing and go to work.

“You can’t be older then 20.” He seems just shocked enough not to come off rude.

“I’m 21 actually.” Snuffing the cigarette out all you can think about is how much you want another one.

“Well Eddie’s 20, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind showing you around.” Having noticed your eyes darting to the window he turns around and waves. Eddie’s eyes go wide before the blinds shut quickly. Wayne turns around with a pleased smile on his face, their dynamic slowly becoming your new favorite thing.

“Don’t be a stranger, if you need anything at all just come on over and knock, I’m handy around the house. Don’t let one anyone in town over charge you, they like taking advantage of young women such as yourself.”

The kindness in his gesture stuns you for a minute, so used to doing things yourself there’s something about it that makes you feel less alone. Your new neighbors making this feel more like home.

“Thanks, I appreciate that!” You smile brightly at the older man “Have a good night at work Wayne, I’ll make sure Eddie doesn’t burn the place down.” Winking you relish in the deep chuckle you earn from the joke.

“Glad to have another set of eyes on em’. Have a good night darlin’.” With a wave of his calloused hand he makes his way to his car.

Watching Wayne’s headlights disappear as he turns on the main road, you start a silent count down waiting to see how long it takes Eddie to come collect his mysterious lunch box. When you hit six the front door flies open so loudly you think it might rip off the hinges. Graceful was absolutely not in his vocabulary. Leaning forward on his tippy toes you see him check the road for any sign of his Uncle.

“He’s gone, you can come get your secret little box.” Swinging your leg back over the bench you get ready to head back home.

“You thought that was real funny huh?” Dirty white Reeboks pad down the steps, a playful smile on his lips despite the sassy tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fraying innocence, the smirk that seemed to be becoming a permanent part of your face around him tugs up corners of your mouth again.

Shaking his head, his own smile grows wider as he makes his way to his van. Rings shimmering from the hand on the hood of his car he leans down grabbing the metal box. Pulling it out he shakes it at you letting the contents shuffle around inside.

“Wanna burn one?” Lifting his brows he bites his bottom lip into a smile. Eddie Munson wasn’t just sneaky, Eddie Munson was cute.

“Depends on what we’re burning.” You tease doing your best not to seem too eager. Silently praying to the gods that the man who single handedly wasted your last bowl might now be your new weed supply.

Walking across the unpaved road his fluffy hair bounces with the long strides of his lanky legs, a goofy grin never leaving his face as he approaches you.

The sun having nestled behind the trees leaves you and Eddie in the early darkness of the night. The loud buzz of the street light kicking on drowns out the crickets hidden in the long grass.

“Well sweetheart that depends on what your smoking.” Plopping down across from you, swinging your leg back over you position yourself to face him.

Up close he was even cuter then from the distance you were accustomed to seeing him at. It’s almost enough to make your confidence falter. The plan was to focus on yourself when you moved here, not to get distracted by a boy. Eddie Munson had the potential to be very distracting, especially with the way he licked his lips as he took in your features too.

“Well you do owe me.” Leaning forward you rest your elbows on the table. Chin tucked between your knuckles you look up at him through your lashes.

Noticing the way his breath catches when your eyes meet, your bravado's much easier to keep up with now. Shaking his head with a small smirk he averts his attention back down to his lunch box, flipping the top open to reveal exactly what you’d hoped was inside.

“Why exactly do I owe you?” Mimicking your position he leans forward invading your personal space. His chocolate eyes are deep and all consuming, a flirty playfulness hidden behind his pupils

Despite the redness in your cheeks and your sudden need to remember how to breathe, you refuse to break. He was going to give you free weed.

“Your little stunt earlier made me drop the last of my weed all over my livingroom carpet. Your uncle was right when he called you a bat out of hell.” Smirking, your proud of the fact that you get him to roll his eyes before he leans back to dig a rolled joint out of the tin.

“Just because I’m feeling generous, not because you’ve convinced yourself that I owe you for being clumsy. Consider it a belated welcome to Hell, I mean Hawkins.”

“Clumsy? It sounded like Metallica was outside my front door.” Scoffing, your eyes catch how fat the joint between his fingers is, the sight is almost enough to make your mouth water. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you can’t help but admire how much better it looks when it’s sitting in Eddie Munson’s very kissable mouth.

“You know Metallica?” He asks holding the joint between his teeth, he cups a hand over it to block the wind from snuffing out the flame of his zippo lighter. It’s big, silver, and gaudy just like the rings that littered his fingers. With a devil etched into the metal of it, even just knowing him for a few minutes you could tell it was very on brand for the man in front of you.

“I’m more of a Meatloaf girl but I dabbled in Ride the Lightning.” Eyes trained on the way the smoke exhales from his nostrils, he raises his eyebrows impressed with your answer.

His big hand reaches out passing the joint, the remainder of his hit leaving his mouth as he speaks.

“That album does fucking rock, but have you heard their new one yet?”

Eddie’s eyes can’t stop looking at the way your lips wrap around the joint. It was hard for him to get over just how pretty you were up close. A beautiful girl who smokes weed and has good taste in music? Give him a few more minutes of conversation and he just might fall in love.

Inhaling deeply the smoke hits your lungs in a comforting tightness, closing your eyes you savor the feeling for a second.

“I did about thirty minutes ago.” Exhaling you you can’t help but smile around the white cloud that leaves your mouth.

Rolling his eyes again, he sighs dramatically. “Look -“ Snapping his fingers he points at you realizing he never actually got your name.

“Y/N” Taking another hit you pass it back to him, finger tips brushing together like an electric current.

“Look, Y/N if we’re going to be friends you’re gonna have to let that go. I will not feel bad about blessing your ears with my impeccable taste in music.” Eddie’s grin makes his dimples peak out from the middle of his cheeks.

“Bold of you to assume we’re going to be friends.”

“We’ll be inseparable just watch, I can spot a creep from a mile away.” Handing you the half smoked joint back his smile falters when headlights turn into the entrance of the trailer park.

Turning to meet his line of sight you see a pick up truck with four boys, all of them dawning green letterman jackets. Rowdy and rude, two of them sit in the bed of the truck beer cans in hand. Another with a Hawkins baseball cap dangles out of the passenger window, letting out a loud whistle when he sees you and Eddie.

“Hey! There’s the freak!” One of them yells with a point of his finger as the truck comes to a stop next to his van.

“What the fuck?” Confused you turn around and see all the playfulness drain from Eddie’s handsome features. His face growing cold, eyes narrowing at the nickname.

“Come on Munson, leave the girl alone. I’m sure she’s not interested in joining your little satanic cult.” A blonde haired boy with a face you wanted to sucker punch emerges from the driver side door. His blue eyes piercing in a way that felt almost evil.

“We’ve got 50 bucks and a game to get to, can we hurry this up?” The one from passenger window calls before throwing a wink in your direction.

Gagging dramatically you flip him off. Your anger quickly turning to shock when you see him closing up his lunch box. He was listening to them.

“Are you seriously going to sell to them?” The disbelief is more then evident in your voice as you watch him get to his feet.

“Bills gotta get paid sweetheart.” Its simple when it comes out of his mouth. Knowing better then most the struggles of making ends meet, you feel stupid for even getting mad at him.

A plastic bag with about an eighth of weed slaps down on the table in front of you, the smile you had quickly grown fond of returning to his face.

“This is for flipping that asshole off.” He says in a low voice before giving you wink. With out giving you time to respond he’s gone, jogging over to the impatient group of boys. Turning back around mid way his smile grows even bigger before adding “Definitely not for the loud music though!”

Rolling your eyes you can’t stop the shit eating grin that takes over your face, snuffing out the joint you pocket the gift from your new friend.

Making your way back to your trailer you can’t help but feel a smidgin of hope for the first time in a long time, maybe moving here was a good idea. Or maybe it was just Eddie Munson’s really good weed. Either way you want to bask in this feeling for as long as you can. Something telling you a friendship with the clumsy, sweet, pot dealing metal head next door is exactly what you need right now.

Chapter Two.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joseph quinn #wayne munson #steve harrington #robin buckley

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midnxght-sweet-time · 9 months

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for jade's beta explanation it said his design was punk until it mellowed out for octavinelle, so maybe that's what actually happened to jade.

and id say likely jade would have a chance at winning strictly because floyd would likely also join in on the fight for fun.

in this video you can briefly see some beta designs. but its not the greatest view of them

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHWAQf-eok0&t=3s

Ok. Exclude Floyd, their abilities, and just make them fight physically. No help no nothing. Just fist fight in the back alley.

Tho then again I feel like no matter what Jade still have the better chance at combat-

But besides that, the video? Its actually pretty gud. Ngl id feel like if they kept the tweels design like that, theyd prob be a lot more intimidating. But Beta Azul lookin kinda goofy.

Oh but Malleus though— imagine evil Malleus. Im pretty sure Malleus had like a conductor like look with a conductor hat and dare I say— a whip.

And was Epel suppose to be a girl??? Idk if my eyes decieved me cuz im sure as hell that looks like a poofy dress. Was my guy crossdressing? Was NRC suppose to be a normal school???? I NEED ANSWERS-

But alot of these were just reveals to their beta designs. I find that Beta Riddle makes the most impact for me is cuz of the fact he was THIS close to becoming canon. Man I really wanna see what was Chap 1 suppose to be like before Yana decided to scrap it.

Like I need crumbs. You cant give me beta Riddle and expect me to not get invested like— skakskakskaks MMMMMMMM

So you think Heartslabyul chapter was the original Svanaclaw story? Like how Leona boutta try and break Malleus' ankles with a stampee? Instead Riddle decides to go full on anarchy for reasons unknown? Hmmmm

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rosemaryandarsenic · 2 years

Note

i’ve been having brain rot about gareth with a big tiddy goth gf, if i had a crumb of headcannons id be so grateful 🙏 however if you could elaborate i’d be dead on the floor

As a big tiddy goth gf myself, I LOVE this. NSFW blurb to follow, Minors DNI!!

HC's Authors note: I go on a rant at the end here lol, but tw: political stuff (human rights!) and talk of mosh pits, NSFW stuff, anger issues.

Personally, I think Gareth would favor more Punk/Lolita Goth types but let's be real, he wouldn't give a fuck as long as you're anti-establishment, anti-Fascist, and like metal. Frankly even the metal part is probably not required lmao.

You two would go to shows together and he'd get so nervous at first if you went into the mosh pit, until he sees you're a little battering ram and just goes absolutely feral.

He'd get you longer necklaces so they fall in between your boobs, maybe he'd let you wear his skull necklace during shows.

Will mark your boobs with hickies so anyone who sees them knows you're taken (and you wear low cut shirts to show it off haha)

Before you all start dating he'd lowkey be scared of you! Till he learns your looks are the complete opposite of your personality which is soft and sweet. He'd also learn real quick that soft girls still bark, especially if they have a temper to match his own, which you do.

Gareth would take you Halloween shopping every year, and plan couples' costumes with you. You have a ritual where instead of watching slashers or horror movies like you normally do, you watch a romcom on Halloween night and eat all your favorite candy.

MATCHING TATTOOS AHHH

Hoping this doesn't sound performative but I'm adding it anyway bc it's important: I like to think that he'd be so supportive of however you choose to express yourself and make sure that he supports bands that are not just good but support good values. I write from my own POV which isn't all-encompassing and I think it's super important to acknowledge if it doesn't fit who you are there's still space for you <3 I'm talking about feminist Gareth, Gareth with a Muslim gf who loves how you match your hijab to his vest, Gareth who decolonizes and votes to protect women and POC, BLM protest Gareth, gay rights Gareth, Gareth who decorates his GF's mobility aid and makes pronoun pins for the band. I mention all this specifically because this "stuff" is a huge part of the goth culture (it built it really) and I think he'd be very passionate about it. I know I write smut lol, but good relationships don't require sex and I think he'd be an excellent BF who'd respect those boundaries and would care about what you believe in and his own belief system.

THE BLURB

TW: Mentions of alcohol, boob luge, and shitty yt supremacy bands (I have beef with so many thrash metal bands). As usual, all characters are above the age of 18.

It's like 12:30 in the morning, and you're at Eddie's trailer with the older gang. Robin's in the corner talking to Nancy, Jeff is playing video games with Eddie, and you're in the kitchen listening to Steve and Gareth argue about music. It's hot, and your eyeliner is running as you rummage through the fridge looking for a cold beer, or literally anything to chase the shot you'd just taken.

"I'm telling you, Steve Miller band is so much better than that slasher band-" Steve says, completely getting cut off by your boyfriend.

"Slayer, it's SLAYER. That's not even who I'm talking about!" Gareth grumbles, "they have too much Nazi shit, I'm talking about fucking bands like Quiet Riot. They're revolutionizing music, you can't discredit that."

"Discredit? Man, they're brutalizing rock -" Steve cuts off again as you slam the fridge door.

"Will you two quit it? Steve's a jock Gareth, youre not gonna convince him to listen to metal, especially thrash." You groan, leaning against the counter. "He's no fun."

"Exactly," Steve says, throwing his hands up in the air. "Also, I AM fun, I have plenty of good music to listen to already." He emphasizes the good, making Gareth groan irritatedly.

"What? You think I'm boring?" Steve yells, "Eddie would you say I'm boring?"

"YES." Robin, Nancy, and Eddie reply together without even looking over.

"Jesus," Steve mumbles, "here, let me prove it."

Steve leans in and whispers something in your ear, as Gareth watches smugly, arching an eyebrow as you grin at what Steve is asking you to do. It's a party trick, one you've seen him do in high school, and you're just tipsy enough to play along.

"That's actually kind of metal." You giggle.

"What?" Gareth asks, staring at the two of you as Steve hands you a bottle of jack off the counter. "What're you two talking about?"

"Nuh huh," Steve laughs, "Y/N here is going to be able to explain it much better than I can."

You laugh again as you motion for Gareth to come to you and pull off the sliced-up T-shirt you have over your bra. Gareth's eyes get wide, despite the fact that everyone here could give less of a shit at your indecency.

"What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?" Gareth asks, in front of you now.

"The Harrington special, babe." You answer, winking. "You've never seen it?"

Gareth shakes his head as Steve laughs, "You're about to!"

You pull your boyfriend's face in with one hand and hold the liquor bottle in the other hand.

"All you have to do is stick your face in those lovely boobs of hers and open your mouth," Steve instructs, earning a glare from Gareth at the compliment to your anatomy.

"C'mere baby," you laugh, and Gareth complies, leaning into your chest as he starts to realize what you're going to do. You carefully pour a shot onto your boobs, the alcohol pooling between your cupped breasts and trickling down into his mouth. He laps it up, giving you a dark look as his tongue runs up from below your bra to your collar bone. Fucking christ that's hot.

You'd momentarily forgotten Steve was there as he hollers, "Would a lame person be able to do that?"

You giggle, "You're not doing shit, Harrington."

"Yeah well, not this time Y/L/N, I think your boyfriend would fucking kill me." he laughs, as Gareth nods.

"Touch her tits and you're dead, Steve." He laughs, pulling back and giving you a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll give you like, one notch above lame for teaching her that." He winks at you, and they go back to debating as you pull your shirt back over your shoulders. You were definitely going to pay for that later.

#gareth emerson #stranger things #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader

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yuri-cocaine · 2 years

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ffxivwrite2022: bolt

Emet-Selch didn’t need to show a Costco membership ID. His scintillant Convocation mask was enough, like a strawberry poison dart frog was enough to shoo predators away. In this case the predator was a bored employee smacking gum and not actually caring. This metaphor was running away, just like Azem was running away to grab samples.

Every Convocation member was automatically a Costco member too, which was a great perk. Often the only thing Emet-Selch needed to buy was a mountain of ibuprofen, because he could simply create everything else he wanted. Still, not everyone was a genius like him. And some people just enjoyed getting lost in the expansive concrete aisles. Once Azem accidentally got locked in overnight and the store managers found her eating raw lettuce in the freezer the next morning.

Hythlodaeus, Emet-Selch’s achingly beautiful husband, was pushing a shopping cart along and admiring the kumquat trees. There were so many kumquat trees.

Hythlodaeus opened his mouth.

“No,” said Emet-Selch.

“I didn’t even say anything yet,” said Hythlodaeus.

“Look at what I found,” said Azem. She lugged a twenty-foot skeleton behind her. It was only September but it was never too early for Halloween stuff.

“No,” said Emet-Selch.

The three of them walked side-by-side like those groups of annoying shoppers who just had to take up as much space as possible, but since they were a bisexual poly couple it was okay for them to do that. Hythlodaeus floated towards the deli section like a lavender luna moth and gracefully took some samples of salami to share with his beloved. That was just how gracious and wonderful Hythlodaeus is. Truly there was no better man on the face of Etheirys.

Azem scurried back with a box of chocolate chip cookies, and another box of boring oatmeal raisin cookies for Emet-Selch’s boring tastes. Azem was cute too, in a gopher sticking its head out of a golf course type of way.

“Do they sell weed at Costco,” asked Hythlodaeus.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” said Emet-Selch with a heavy heart. “They do not.”

“Oh.”

He could not bear to see his darling Hythlodaeus disappointed. He will have a very stern word with the CEO of Costco later, and demand that they stock the finest of weeds.

Azem filled the cart with fifty bundles of toilet paper and they went to check out.

For lunch, the three of them went to get the fabled $1.50 hot dog and soda combo. Back in the days of paradise, people just turned cubuses into hot dogs, but now there was something called food safety and hot dogs were made from pigs. Emet-Selch got Diet Coke. Hythlodaeus got Sprite, because he was as lovely as a flower sprite. Azem made a horrific concoction of every single drink from the machine like a gremlin. What the fuck is wrong with her.

They sat down at the least crumb-covered table and ate their hot dogs. Suddenly, there was a huge peal of thunder, loud enough to give everyone tinnitus. A great bolt of lightning tore down from the heavens and completely obliterated the entire Costco except for the food court.

Emet-Selch woke up. There was no lightning. It was just magitek weaponry tests outside the palace. Hythlodaeus was still dead, Azem was still dead, and these malformed abominations could never conceive of hot dogs, much less ones that only cost a buck fifty.

He got up and checked the expiration date on his aspirin.

#ffxivwrite2022 #i had something else to do so this is a shitpost sorry

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devondespresso · 11 months

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ok idk if this fits actual highschool experience during the 80s but it fits mine from 2018-2022 (pre and post covid) but imagine that as far as highschool drama and popularity stuff goes, Eddie is the only one in hellfire who cares about the social hierarchy

maybe the corroded coffin guys and other hellfire members all have this vague acceptance that, yea they're far outside of the highschool cool crowd but that also means they don't have to worry about whos popular or whos unpopular. aside from remembering people being directly mean to them they don't know or care about what anyone's saying about anyone else. they have their core friend group of hellfire and are fine working with normal classmates on projects and stuff, trying to figure whos liked and whos disliked doesn't really benefit them so why worry about it

Eddie on the other hand kinda relies on the social hierarchy for his image. he intentionally puts himself on the lowest possible end and makes sure people know it. it helps guide outcasts to hellfire by giving them a sort of "weirdos welcome here" sign and also takes the heat of his friends and makes it so they can fade into the background if they want. and with his flair for the dramatic and all id imagine he secretly enjoys hearing the highschool drama. hes basically designated himself as the fantasy villain and i bet nicknames like king steve helped fuel that dramatic intrigue.

all this to say that in au fics where hellfire and eddie meet steve without all the upside down trauma bonding, i think it'd be really funny (and probably could be cool angst or whatnot) if eddies the only one whos got a problem with King Steve. like hes waxing on about how hes the epitome of conformity to The Traditional American Values™ and is practically a walking Jock Stereotype, the antithesis of everything hellfire stands for and then jeffs like "yea idk man he seemed pretty chill during our world war 2 project last year. offered to bring all the poster board for it and everything." and Grants like "yea i had to sit in his desk in second period and there were always crumbs under the desk but like. he seemed nice."

#this post is brought to you by #i spent my whole highschool experience (excluding half of freshman year but even then i still took the class) in theatre and only paid-#attention to theatre kid drama (with a dash of band kid drama because it overlapped and my lunch friend group was mostly band kids)#but anyway i didn't know what was going on with the other cliques and i genuinely didn't care #and the only reason i knew there was other group drama was from overhearing classmates and the occasional popular theatre kid #(yes they were real its mostly because they're super charismatic and likeable and just chill people)#devon thinks sometimes

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fourthwonton · 11 months

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Fourthwonton freaks out over the Our Skyy x Bad buddy episode 1 (real)

Squealed at the very first sec of the preview(I don’t rewatch my top shows so it's quite helpful)(and I got the feels)

The preview really reminded me exactly why I fell in love with this world

Ugh great (rolls eyes) Wai’s back yaayyyyy

Drake is really good at playing himbo

Wait… are Wai and Korn continuing the feud’s legacy?

Really a great start… the whole show began when Wai was cornered so it’s fitting that the special episodes start with the feud too

The staredown lol rofl…. The BGMI can’t

Right off the gate with the expectation subversion I can’t with P’Aof

The students really need group projects to hold them off from fighting

Why is Korn praying like Pat and Pran have died? Or is this P’Aof poking fun at all the romeo and romeo clown theories?

Prom really is accurate with the tea huh

Lol WaiKorn trying their best to get them all off the right track

Going off the track but damn Ohm’s eyes really shine at 5:06

They’re back at it lol just riling each other up

Never knew bickering could be foreplay but here we are

Lmao the stark difference between on screen and behind the scenes(hah get it)

I could swim in nanon’s eyes(swoons)

Aaa dimples is back

Neck cradle seemed like a chokehold lol well, Pran does have Pat in his chokehold

I’m so glad that the curtain drop has been redeemed

I freaking lost it when the intro started to play

I love the parallel so much! In ep 1, when pat punches Pran and he gets a bruise for which he gave him a balm. Now, it’s Pran who punched Pat and he’s the one icing the bruise. Ok guess I began rambling

The “I told you to punch me on one cheek and you punched me on the other” never gets old

Also pa knocking the door when they’re getting up to something is always funny

And she has got not even a shred of remorse for that XD

INKPA!!!!!!!!!!!!

A brother always has to be annoying to his sister. HIA PAAAAAAAN is so hilarious

I love the found family dynamic of theirs. They’re getting dinner together! Ahh it reminds me of ep 9

Feeding shrimp to your loved one is always a win

Love Pa teasing them

And Ex-macho man Pat calling himself Nong is so funny

The moment Ink advised them to find a neutral party to help them decide was when I felt sorry for Ajarn Pichai

We really need more than crumbs!

Give me more InkPa!!!!!!!!

Is he doing a counting-out game to decide? What’s next, a game of rock paper scissors or an arm-wrestling battle between Pran and Pat?

I choked on my coffee when Pat said that Korn will play a dwarf

Ooh they have to get a sponsorship (evil Gru laugh)

Ooh Pat is sneaky

“Phuen khab? Phuen” and “Khab, Phuen”, very un-subtle title drop right here

Pran still has his high-school photo for his id

And we’re back with the crowded elevator(love everything about it)

I forgot that Pat’s sense of smell is as good as a golden retriver’s

Another rendition of just friend!

I don’t understand if Pran is trying to encourage Pat or scare him more

Also did he just say dog Pat?

I love their faculty pride

I knew something was going to go wrong when Korn mentioned downloading the porn

I snorted out loud at this scene

Damn Pran was really dying holding his laughter

Loved the lesson on perspectives.

I love the parallel to when Pat helped Pran visualize the bus stop

Aah Secret’s back

Nanon looks angelic at 13:09 part 2

Pat really be there convincing Pran for a honeymoon

Wait, Tian wrote a book?

The fistbump’s back aaaaaa

Pat really is a hopeless romantic. So sappy!

The fairy lights OwO

They really said me gustas tu

Pran really looks at Pat like he’s his world T_T

Fierce eyes became puppy dog eyes

Why do they have so many close kisses ughh

NONG NAO SLEEP MASKS!!!!!!! Soon available at GMMTV Shop pre-order yours now

Architecture students may plan an attack on me, but only elevators can bring me down

Poor Pran promoting skincare alone T_T get back here Pat!

Damn! Another eavesdropping misunderstanding? Please subvert this trope P’Aof T_T

Really subverted it in a moment thank lord Aof

Pran’s gone into plotting mode huh, I already feel sorry for Pat

He really saved Pran as Dimples such a sap

Why the fuck was Wai in there? XD they really traumatized each other

Really ran off to Chiang Mai to serve Pat a good bowl of lukewarm revenge

Really loving Pran’s fit again

Getting onto the wrong bus is so like Pat

No wait

I take it back

Making Pat get onto the wrong bus is so like Pran

Ohh Champ’s here!

Not the best thing to say in such a light-hearted tone, Yod. Pran’s already nervous about this

Pran really grabbed a walking cane off a fence XD

This is really the most crossover to ever crossover

Love the piano when Chief Phu turns

Did the sturdy looking Chief just faint?

Did Pran just shoo away Tian?XD

OMG Nanon’s just killing it with his eyes

The preview’s giving me life

Did the boys just strike up a fight between Phupha and Tian? And took it upon themselves to make them make up?

The top-notch face down is so funny

The way I cried all this time damn I missed this world

#bad buddy #our skyy 2 #missing patpran hours #pat x pran #inkpa #Every hour is a missing patpran hour if you're deep in #our skyy 2 x bad buddy

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foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland · 11 months

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holy shit my mum was just like. ur american aunt is coming here next week. what merch do u want from ppl u follow in america. and im like. what. what the fuck. u gave me like. 5 seconds. idfk. and she pointed at my crumb merch and was like what abt this person. theyre american. do you want more of their merch. and im like. what the fuckkk. i literally have 5 seconds to think. but ye so idfk what im supposed 2 ask my aunt 2 bring as like. souvenirs or whatever tf. like nothing would ARRIVE by next week. sooo i just said idk get my cousin 2 pick out some pins. so im gonna get pins. bc literally the only merch i can think of rn is genloss merch and thatd arrive in like months or w/e and is expensive as fuck and i literally just spent the last of my money on some more pins and also clothes so. yea. OH MY GOD MY DAD JUST KNOCKED ON MY DOOR TO ASK THE EXACT SAME QUESTION. GIVE ME SOME FUCKING TIME HOLY SHIT. anyways i cant. think of like. america exclusive stuff. that. id want. idfk. like it took me so long before 2 decide that getting crumb merch would b a good idea bc theres so many factors that weigh into it. it was a good idea tho i got the crumbeanie its cute as fuck. but. yea. aunt jumpscare. oh wait oh fuckkk. shes coming here 4 my step grandads funeral. and like. im gonna have 2 go there. and like. talk 2 ppl there or w/e. idek half of them bc theyd all be his family bc hes not related 2 any of us by blood only thru my grandma. and i hate my american aunt. aw man.

#day thoughts #well ig pins are still nice #and my cousins cool enough so i trust her to hopefully not pick out anything thats #bad

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ventiswampwater · 21 days

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the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game 🎶💖

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums. 🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules: 1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND 2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

had a ton of fun w/boop day!! and I wanna carry on the tradition of harassing y'all w/my notif's into the rest of april!! so I made this funky lil tag game. 💞 here are my picks!! my albums EVER.

📍tagging a handful of my moots that I luv dearly &/or want to interact w/more!! as always w/these thangs, NO pressure whatsoever to do this!! only if u wanna!! MWAH:

@visceravalentines, @possumteeths, @crumb, @betelgeusing, @ace-of-hearts-and-spades, @likedovesinthewnd, @flaggermuser, @lucifers-horror-harem, @f1nalboys, @bluecoolr, @thestandupproject, @bbydahlia, @rottent33th, @kennyroyz, @slutforstabbings, @angel-trapped, @stephendorff, @avrilsboy, @horrorknife, and @universalmonster! (general sidenote: if we're mutuals and I don't ever tag u in these, it's bc I'm v much not sure if ur down w/them!! & I don't wanna flood ur notifs lmao)

🎧 album info/track recs/my favorite lines under the cut!! ↓↓↓

🍃 dance fever (2022) // florence + the machine

track rec: free ↳ is this how it is? is this how it's always been? / to exist in the face of suffering and death / and somehow still keep singing? / oh, like christ up on a cross / who died for us, who died for what? / oh, don't you wanna call it off? / but there is nothing else that I know how to do / but to open up my arms and give it all to you

💎 i was on the news (2019) // the pom-poms

track rec: sunshine ↳ they forget that I'm deadly / 'cause I'm friendly in person / you can say whatever / when we met, you were sweaty and nervous / I see men being petty, this opportunity's perfect / I make 'em wet the bed and call it community service

⛪️ preacher's daughter (2022) // ethel cain

track rec: thoroughfare ↳ so we made off for california to find your lover driving day and night / and every small-town diner, saw our faces at least once or twice / but in these motel rooms, I started to see you differently, oh / 'cause for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry

🚬 antics (2004) // interpol

track rec: narc ↳ feast your eyes, I'm the only one / control me, console me / 'cause that's just how it should be done / oh, your history's like fire from a busted gun

🔮 timespace - the best of stevie nicks (1991) // stevie nicks

track rec: talk to me ↳ dusty words lying under carpets / seldom heard well, must you keep your secrets / locked inside, hidden deep from view / do I seem all that hard, is it all that tough? / well, I've searched through all my cards, well, isn't that enough?

🍯 for abby (2020) // jawny

track rec: you got a man ↳ I got rubber bands in my hands / I'm pushing six in my pants / I spent 'bout half my advance / just tryna get ya / you taste like warm apple pie / you said you're single, you lied / I saw them texts from that guy / man, whatever

🪩 second nature (2022) // lucius

track rec: lsd ↳ waiting on the nights like a wolf / I count down the days / now I can't eat, I can't sleep / I hallucinate, lsd / love so deep

👑 the rise and fall of a midwest princess (2023) // chappell roan

track rec: red wine supernova ↳ she was a playboy, brigitte bardot / she showed me things, I didn't know / she did it right there, out on the deck / put her canine teeth in the side of my neck

💸 marvelous (2022) // yung gravy

track rec: c’est la vie ↳ bitch, I'm twenty-one, but I still walk around with fake id (what?) / cuddle with the homies, watchin' 'stand by me' (cute) / this dick ain't free, baby, pay my fee (bread) / let me live my life, baby, c'est la vie

#<33 #tag game #mine #BTW. if we're saw mutuals. most of u only follow the sideblog. so I will not attack u. w/@'s hgsdfgdfshgdfs #but just know I luv u all v much too #thinking I might do another one of these that is like #favorite albums (the skips edition) dfshgfdsgfdsh #bc this selection is missing some v important albums #however. tragically. as important as they are. they do. contain skips

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ilovemesomevincentprice · 2 months

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Vincent Price with his co-star behind the scenes of Twice-Told Tales (1963)

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 5 months

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OKAY WELL SINCE YOU RESPONDED TO EVERY ASK, I GUESS I DIDN'T ANSWER YOURS BACK IN NOV 9??? I AM SO SORRY I LITERALLY THOUGHT I DID

woozi as ur senior thesis would be SO funny because like...imagine being a professor and seeing an essay/project all about a genius kpop man 😭😭😭

IM A RAVENCLAW ACTUALLY?????? how did you KNOW....are you stalking me... ALSO WHATS UR HOUSE??

he may be the mc's tree but you can always climb him in your dreams...

O2O?? ILL CHECK IT OUT...if it has a happy ending NO CDRAMA RECS BUT I REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE BLOODHOUNDS SO DO GIVE IT A CHANCE

ur anime con pics are SOSOSOSOSOSO CUTE!! I LOVE SEEING PEOPLE NERD OUT AND BE PASSIONATE ABOUT THE THINGS THEY LIKE

idk if he's a sub but me personally i like guys (like seungcheol) who have a lot of like passive(?) dominance if that makes sense?? like they exude this dominant energy irl (and in the bedroom but whatever HAHAHAH)

plot twist! i dont like him anymore!! i feel like he's just bread crumbing me and i'd honestly rather be friends with him atp

OKAY IF YOU ACT SELF-CENTERED AND YOU PULL, THAT MEANS YOU'RE PULLING SUB MEN....IF THATS UR HOPE THEN YOU'RE DOING GREAT BRIE THATS EXACTLY HOW YOU PULL SUBBY MEN

omg wait why are you dropping out? are you okay (like not in a condescending way, just checking in cuz you are important!!)

WAIIIIIIT (omg dino reference) WHAT CHRISTMAS MOVIES DO YOU HAVE TO WATCH EVERY YEAR PLS SHARE

NO. INSTANT MASHED POTATOES??? WHEN YOU HAVE ACCESS TO REAL POTATOES AND GARLIC????? she should be JAILED...but im sure she has a good reason mwahahah your mother must be a very nice person

SCALLOPED CORNNNNNNN OH MY GOD?? INVITE ME TO UR THANKSGIVING BRIE ID WANT TO EAT ALLLL THAT STUFF

WELL IM SURE SOME GUYS AT WORK HAVE GOTTA BE INTO YOU............

don't ever apologize for late responses!!! i enjoy every message i get from you too (ditto. lol. nwjns. i have brainrot) SO ITS OK!!!

-someone who missed you and hopes that you're OKAY (🫨 anon)

NOVEMBER OH MY GOD ITS LITERALLY OKAY THOUGH THAT WAS BASICALLY THE LAST TIME I RESPONDED ANYWAYS

I fear that is a senior thesis we deserve but will never behold…

I JUST KNOW YOU… WE’RE BONDED… YOU CANT TELL MY HOGWARTS HOUSE??? 😨😨😨

Oh 🫨 anon, I do not partake in stories with unhappy endings (… willingly) SO DW AND I WILL GIVE BLOODHOUNDS A CHANCE IF I REMEMBER AND I WILL TRY TO REMEMBER

I love anime cons… surrounded by mutual losers… ACTUALLY KINDA FUNNY STORY. When i was at the con they were playing this episodes of animes airing right now and we watched this one cause it had a funny title: I’m Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness, and we’re watching it and it’s pretty funny and there was this one scene where something happened to the male lead and you know how in anime they have like tiny like unrealistic things happen but we all know it’s just expressing the characters embarrassment or shock and no one can actually see it? Well he got shocked and completely turned into stone and then turned into dust and we’re all sitting there like 🙂 AND THEN ONE OF THE CHARACTERS CHIDED HIM FOR TURNING INTO DUST TO TRY AND GET OUT OF THE SITUATION AND EVERYONE LAUGHED SO HARD and i had an out of body experience where i was like this anime and joke are for such a niche audience, and oh my god we are a bunch of losers 😂

NO I TOTALLY GET WHAT YOU MEAN BY PASSIVE DOMINANCE.. like cheol… 🤭 GOOD FOR YOU DROPPING HIS ASS. YOU DESERVE A WHOLE LOAF OF BREAD NOT JUST THE CRUMBS. FUCK HIM!!! LOSER!! HE SUCKS!!

OH FUCK BUT 🫨 I DO NOT WANT TO PULL SUB MEN. I WANT TO DOMINATED. PLEASE. I WANT TO BE PUT IN MY PLACE. HELP ME 😭😭 TAME ME LIKE A BRAT IDK-

Hmm, i just wasn’t going to class cause i have really serious sleep problems. Like, i can’t sleep at night and i’m already on trazadone which is supposed to help me sleep but doesn’t work right. So james prescribes me ambien too. I tell him my anxiety is going even crazier than usual he prescribes me clonazepam. So now I’m taking ambien, trazadone, and clonazapem for sleep. I’ve always been really overly fatigued during the day but now i just can’t wake up, at all. I am sleeping till five (ball-park) no matter how many alarms i set or when i go to sleep. So i’m sleeping through class and being late for work. So he takes away my clonnie and my PRECIOUS ambien, and now i’m on Laraxpem? lonazepam? And i’m actually not tired all day again! But i am not falling asleep at night 🙃 and also, i am still way too fatigued way too early in the day (i woke up at 1:00 and i was dead tired by 7:00). ANYWAYS. I might do a sleep study soon so. We’ll see how it goes.

Uhm, uh, the princess switch movies, 12 dates of christmas, A christmas kiss, Dash & Lilly (not a movie), A cinderella story (the christmas one), Christmas Cupid…. There’s more uhm but i can’t think of them rn.

No… don’t make excuses for her laziness…. If she is willing to ignore her crying, child pleading for real potatoes then she should be JAILED.

WELL NOT RIGHT NOW I DONT THINK. I HOPE. I CANT HANDLE GUYS AT WORK LIKING ME. I LITERALLY SUCK WHY. AND IM NOT??? THAT??? PRETTY??? LEAVE ME ALONE.

DITTO BY NEW JEANS IS MY FAVORITE BY NEW JEANS I LOVE DITTO

#i am not okay 🫨 anon #but that is okay #I hope YOU are okay #b: 🫨 anon

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

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Bring Your Kids To Work Day | Post NWH Series P.2

Contains spoilers for Spider-Man No Way Home

Read previous series first | Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Series Pairings & characters: Tobey!Peter Parker x female!reader/Black Cat (romantic), Benny Parker OC, Harry Parker OC, Mary Jane Watson x John Jameson, Gwen Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson

Content warnings: overall fluff. profanity and banter, mentions of violence and fighting. Slight sexual tension at the end (midnight’s a cockblock). J. Jonah Jameson, Oscorp (Raimi version) | Female reader (she/her) | unedited

Ch. 2 Premise: It’s day one being back from the alternate world, and former costumed crime fighting anti-hero Y/n L/n-Parker is having to get right back to work as co-head of the genetic and scientific research division at Oscorp along side her costumed superhero husband Peter Parker. It just so happens that day is also an in-service day for their twin boys, Benny and Harry—who are in a heap of trouble for using none-approved tech gadgets behind their parents back. The boys should’ve known they wouldn’t be have a relaxing day home from school—not when you have Peter and Y/n Parker as your parents.

Note: please read my previous series first and the first part to this series before reading this, it will just make more sense honestly. I plan to update this series every two days hopefully so please be patient as you wait for updates.

————————————

Mornings in the Parker household were always a hassle. Music blasting, counter full of food, a cat meowing like theirs no tomorrow, and the little family moving around bumping into each other as they get their stuff ready for the day ahead of them.

And today was no exception.

They may have just been in an alternate reality just twenty-four hours ago, but that didn’t change the typical routine they had. Although it may have been a little different given the boys had an in-service day from school. And the fact they were going to their parents work because they decided to be rebels and take unapproved gadgets to another world.

“Boys!!” Y/n yells while walking down the stairs. “You better be ready we need to leave in ten minutes.” She was adjusting the cuff on her suit jacket, the white attire blending in with her hair. “I need to get a new ID, so chop-chop.”

Peter was not too far behind her, his jacket over his arm and fiddling with his tie. Harry was leaving his room, backpack and lap top in hand while Benny was already in the kitchen making himself fried eggs with toast. Midnight was perched on the counter by the windowsill, his tail waving slightly while basking in the sunlight.

Harry skipped into the kitchen, stealing a piece of toast from Bennys plate making him go ‘Hey!’ Before going to scratch midnight behind the ears, making the cat purr with delight. Y/n placed her work bag on the counter, Peter going to fill the cat bowl before the two started going over what the plans were for the day.

“You look nice today,” the man compliments Y/n while placing a kiss to her cheek. She smiles and returns the compliment before he turns to the twins. “Do you boys have what your mother told you bring?” Peter said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Harry munched on his toast, mumbling a ‘yes,’ while Benny nodded.

“Do we have to go with you guys?” Harry whined, wiping crumbs from his face. “I mean today is our only day off from school—can’t you just take the gadgets and leave us here?”

“No,” Y/n scolded. “You two are coming no ifs, ands, or buts. I told you both multiple times not to use those things until I overlooked them or work on them without my supervision and you disobeyed. So you’re gonna come to the lab and after I see whether or not they are safe to use—that would not cause harm to anyone,” she emphasis with a stern look. “—then you boys can work on them with Carl, Naomi, and your father and I. No exception—end of story.”

“Yes, mom,” they both mumbled. She gave a firm nod, taking the glass of juice Peter handed her—the man giving her a look that read, ‘teenagers.’ It made her roll her eyes by their behavior and she clicked the glass with his before taking a sip.

A few minutes pass before Y/n checks her watch and sees it was already nearing 7:45. She downs the rest of the juice, placing the glass in the sink and snapping her fingers. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late and I still need to get a new ID.” The boys finish the last of their breakfast, the woman taking her bag from Peter and waiting for the boys to be the first to leave the house before following behind them.

Peter locks the door, and they pile into the car with Peter in the drivers seat while Y/n flips the overhead mirror down so she could apply her classic red lipstick. She normally didn’t dress up for work,— and was gonna have her haired pulled up soon with a lab coat covering her, but since she needed to get her picture taken for a new ID, she wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity to not look good.

The drive was quick. They normally didn’t drive all the way into the city and instead parked on the outskirts and either walked the remainder or grabbed the subway if they were running late. Today, they left on time so they decided to walk. Peter held Y/ns hand, while the boys walked in front of them just two paces ahead. It was a little crowded as people were heading into work for the morning.

They were nearing the building when a familiar unpleasant voice rang out. “Parker! Parker there you are!” Y/n couldn’t stop the groan from leaving her mouth, already not in the mood to deal with J. Jonah Jameson. He still looked the same, compared to his alternate bald-headed version. He was dressed in his usual suit and coat, strutting toward the couple.

Benny and Harry stopped, moving to the side of the nearby building to wait for the two. Peter squeezed Y/ns hand, giving her a look of ‘behave, Cat.’ She rolled her eyes, but listened and stayed quiet when Jameson finally approached them.

“Parker,” his grunt voice huffed. “I have been calling you non-stop for over a day! Where have you been, boy? Did you not see what happened yesterday morning?” His question had Y/n turning her head, biting back the smirk wanting to form. Peter glanced at her briefly before turning to face his other—part-time, boss.

“Sorry, Mr. Jameson,” his tone wasn’t really story but the older man couldn’t hear it if he tried. “Yesterday was my day off, remember? I have been a little busy with my other job—it’s been getting pretty hectic at Oscorp so if you were trying to contact me I was more than likely occupied.”

Jameson scoffed, “yeah, well you’re going to have quiet the pile to sort out when you come in tomorrow. The Black Cat was spotted being chased by Spider-Man—I want it the story front cover first thing for the Friday issue. I don’t care what you do, but get it edited and on the streets as soon as possible.”

Peter stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Right away, sir.” Y/n, having had it with Jameson and his overbearing self squeezed Peters hand and stepped closer to him.

“Hi, Mr. Jameson,” she gave a fake smile. “Nice to see you—.” That was a lie. “I hate to break up this—,“ another lie. “But my husband and I are running late for work—you know, his other job that involves being co-head of an Oscorp division. Yeah, you can catch up with him on the story later.”

Having not even seen the woman—despite her blinding white suit, Jameson stepped back a bit puzzled. Looking between them with a bewildered expression. “Husband?” He repeated. “You two are married? Since when—you never mentioned that you two finally got married, Parker.” Jameson knew they had kids—Peter had pictures of them on his desk, but never knew the two had stayed together all these years.

Peter smirked at Y/n, knowing what the sneaky Cat was doing. “We’ve been for awhile now, actually. Wanted to keep it under wraps—enjoy it for ourselves, you know?”

“Hmmm,” Jameson huffs, looking between them. “Congratulations then.” They both thank him and then he finally sees the boys standing to the side. “Ah—I see you have the boys with you. Is it bring your kids to work day or something?”

“Something more or like it,” Peter replied, glancing over his shoulder to see the twins messing around on their phones. “But speaking of work, we must get going. I’ll get started on that story first thing in the morning, Mr. Jameson.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man nods with blank look. “I’ll be in touch.” Finally he leaves and Y/n lets out a breath of relief.

“God, I thought he’d never leave,” she gestures for the boys to start walking and the two follow behind. “That man needs to seriously get more editors and stop coming to you for everything. But then again,” her tone takes a more teasing approach. “You are the one who covers Spider-Man.”

Peter chuckles, bringing his arm around to pull her close so he could kiss her head. “Who else is gonna make sure New York doesn’t find out who the Black Cat really is.”

The family reach the Oscorp building with Y/n going straight to get a new ID while telling the three to head straight to the lab. Peter clocks in and gets the boys their visitor passes before taking the elevator to the level where the genetic and scientific research division was located.

After getting her ID—and having to make up a story for why she lost her previous one as well as not being at work the previous day, Y/n pulls on her lab coat and makes her way to the lab. She finds Peter and the boys at one of the stations with a table full of the multiple gadgets and tech laying across it.

“Are these all of them?” She approaches the table, trailing her eyes over the devices.

Benny nods, “Yes, mom. These are all the ones I told you about—the ones I’ve been working on.” He watches Y/n pick up one of the disks—a disk that could stick to someone and send high voltage electrocution to incapacitate its target. It was a prototype, one that needed a lot of work.

But that didn’t stop him from using it in the alternate world—when he was helping another version of his dad stop bad guys.

“I thought I told you not to use or work on this without my supervision,” Y/n brought the disk up to get a better look, seeing how her sons face consorted in confusion.

“How did you know I used that?” He asked “I mean I know I said I used some of these but I didn’t specify.”

Peter cut in, holding up the smoke bomb in his hands. “You’re little run in with the other version of myself made its way back to us, Benny. He asked if the voltage was powerful enough to make someone seize.”

“Oh,” Benny mumbled, shoulders deflating. “B-but I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He defends, looking at his parents. “I really thought I had the range set to an exact amount—it wasn’t on purpose.” Y/n signed, looking at the boy.

“I know you didn’t, honey. But that’s why I didn’t want you using these until I tested them. I knew the voltage would be strong to immobilize an opponent, but that’s why you always have to do a test run of prototypes. Otherwise someone could get really hurt.”

Benny adjusted his glasses, looking at the ground with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, son,” Peter assures. “Now we know so we can fix what needs to be done in order for the voltage setting to be stable and not too strong.” He looks at Y/n, smirk forming which she mirrors. “Let’s get to work.”

Minutes turned into hours and soon five o’clock was approaching. The day went by fast with the Parkers constructing blue prints, reading files and taking apart before putting back together all the tech needed to find the source of any problem the gadgets had. Y/n and Peter along with a few other colleagues performed the necessary test runs and trials while Benny and Harry drew up designs and formed new ideas for future work.

Benny and Y/n worked on most of the technological aspects while Harry and Peter would focus on the necessary physics and equations. During lunch, they went to the cafe down the corner—laughing at how the morning newspaper was already covering the return of Black Cat—and figured out what they were going to do for dinner.

“Can we get pizza on the way home? From Joe’s we haven’t had it in awhile?” “I’m not in the mood to cook tonight so I’m fine with that.” “You boys had Pizza yesterday morning, how about something else?” “Yeah, Harry. Something else please?” “Ughhhh.”

The last few hours at Oscorp went smooth. They had successful diagnostics and demonstrations with Y/n approving of most of the tech. There were some still in need work so—much to Bennys displeasure—ordered they were to stay in the lab until further notice. She promised the boys they would come back again and they would finish them together—although they still didn’t look to happy.

When five o’clock hit and it was time to go home, they packed up their things and bid goodbye to the other workers in the lab. Peter held the door open for Y/n and the boys, and the family made their way back to the car parked several blocks from the building.

Most people would think Y/ns feet were about to fall off with the heels she was wearing, but she didn’t look like she was struggling or in pain at all. Woman was a pro when it came to a cat walk.

They picked up Chinese food on their way out, the couple walking hand-in-hand like usual and they made it home just before sunset. With the time change it got dark quick, so they wanted to be home before night took over. They sat down together—eating while the food was still hot and made small talk until they went their separate ways.

As night came around, the boys went to their rooms to get any homework done before school the next day and Peter sat on the couch with his laptop in his lap, typing up reports for the day while Y/n tidied up a bit before falling to the seat beside him.

“Tired, darling?” He asked when she snuggled into his side.

Her head shook against his shoulder. “Yeah,” she hums, wrapping her arm against his stomach. “It was a long day, but it was fun to have the boys with us. Bring your kids to work day turned out to be a success.”

“I agree,” he smiled, kissing her head. “We’ll have to do that more—especially because they keep making new things without telling us.” He laughed, thinking about all the blueprints and designs Harry was gushing about. “If we don’t we might find a make-shift lab in the basement.”

“Don’t jinx it, spider,” she warns playfully. “That would surely burn the house down if they do that.” She laughs when he reaches over to knock the wood of the coffee table.

“Just making sure,” he winks, leaning back into the couch. Peter saves the results and closes the computer, placing it on the coffee table before falling to the side and gesturing for Y/n to lay on top of him. She does so eagerly, smiling when he extends his legs and tucks her against him so her back was against the cushions.

She lays her head on his shoulder, placing a palm just over where his heart laid and kissing his covered chest. She feels him nuzzle his face against her hair, before kissing it as well. “You hear that, trouble?”

Y/n squints, straining her ears to listen but turns up with nothing. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” he hums in delight. “It’s quiet.” Now she’s giggling, shaking her head as best she could—humored by his antics.

She lifts up a bit to kiss his lips, the man responding wholeheartedly. Oh how addicted he was to her kisses, as she was to his. Her hair was falling against his face, but Peter didn’t care. If anything he loved it cause it gives him the excuse to run his fingers through through the soft locks.

The man groans when she shifts her position, making her straddle his waist so she could press herself closer to his chest. The kiss heats up, but before anything could happen Y/n is pushed away from Peters lips when their cat Midnight springs right between them. He lands on Peters chest meowing, circling before perching right smack on the area between the mans shoulder and the couch—staring up at them with innocent eyes.

Although slightly flustered from the intense make out session the two were having, Peter couldn’t help but laugh at how Midnight was looking at Y/n. It was like the cat was challenging her. Asserting dominance of who the better cat is. It makes the woman scoff, though she also was fighting a smile by being cockblocked by their own cat.

“Excuse me, sir,” she narrows in playful offense. “You’re not the only cat to have this spider’s heart.” The cat just meows again, lifting his hand up like he wanted to swipe her away. She fakes a gasp, hand going to her chest. “Hey, don’t be trying to steal my man now.”

Midnight meows back, and Y/n just huffs shaking her head in disbelief while Peter laughs. “Got cockblocked by our own cat.” He grins up at her while she mumbles, ‘unbelievable.’

She rolls her eyes, reaching over to scratch the animal behind his ears—hearing soft purrs. “Guess you spiders have a way with cats.” A smirk forms on her face and Peter brings her back to lay her head on his chest, while Midnight continues to cuddle them.

“Cats are quiet and spiders are sneaky, darling. If that’s not fate I don’t know what is.”

……………………………..

Tag list: @secretsthathauntus , @eternalharry

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #tobey!peter parker #tobey!spiderman x reader #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #black cat #vigilante!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman no way home #spiderman fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #black cat reader #SMNWH #no way home imagine

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wenellyb · 3 years

Text

My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom

I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”

I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.

Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.

I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.

I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?

His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not. I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.

And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.

I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:

“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”

“Which way is the beach Seabass”

*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*

¨And so many more, ....

I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts

I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.

I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.

Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.

If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…

I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.

But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.

And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?

Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?

Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?

Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.

Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,

And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.

I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.

You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??

“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?

“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.

“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.

Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.

When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.

You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.

Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.

Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.

I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.

Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.

One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.

I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.

I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.

If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.

But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.

They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.

Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.

Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.

I really cannot with this fandom

The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.

Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.

Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.

There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.

You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.

If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.

#tfatws #anthony mackie #Sebastian Stan #stackie #sambucky #Chris Evans #captain america #CACW #fandom racism #I didn't mean to write this much #my posts

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hobipaint · 3 years

Text

Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin.

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy.

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning.

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much.

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was.

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy."

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again.

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book.

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?"

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?"

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk.

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over.

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though.

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call.

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you.

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief."

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important."

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does.

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it."

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair- your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it.

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-"

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though."

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly.

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon."

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again."

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of.

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created.

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters.

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13."

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio.

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting."

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?"

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case."

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio.

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance.

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do.

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up.

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture.

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom.

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive?

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary?

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means.

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating.

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect.

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V.

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work.

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud.

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now.

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved.

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun.

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser.

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear.

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table.

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face.

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for.

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past.

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere.

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over.

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot."

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25."

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want."

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave."

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?"

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank, but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him.

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?"

"None."

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N."

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges."

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words.

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job.

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence.

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it."

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason."

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance.

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to."

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?"

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it."

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you.

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-"

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him."

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something."

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice.

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office.

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him.

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly.

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now."

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew.

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night."

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you.

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured."

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you.

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N."

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for.

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung.

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?"

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense.

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say.

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir."

"You broke the law, though."

"The law broke me, Sir."

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt?

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head."

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?"

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir."

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way."

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something."

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him."

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?"

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Eumoiriety (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Four Years of Pooja Sharma's Birthday, from her first year as an Intern to her first year as an Attending.

Eumoiriety: Happiness due to state of innocence and purity💕

A/N: It's my baby's birthday and I went overboard. This is purely self indulgent and since I have zero to negative self control, this turned out way longer than I expected it to. Anyway, I hope you still like it💙

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 3.7K (I am sorry!)

Rating: General

Category: A bit angst, A bit fluff

Warnings: None that I saw.

Prompts: @choicesaugustchallenge Day 29 - Birthday

READ ON AO3

Intern Year:

She walks barefoot on the green floor as the dews clinging to grass tips, soothe her like the cold breeze on a summer day.

A few golden rays filter through the canopy that acts as a barrier to the shining sun overhead. When they fall on the grass, the view looks like gold intermixed with emerald.

She wears a white gown, which flutters behind her, as her heart dances with the bees going flower to flower to get their prize of nectar in return for their favour of pollinating them.

There is a calm spreading through her soul, an ease, a slow infusion of tranquillity with her heart beats.

A swish makes her turn. Her eyes capture a silhouette, drifting farther and farther, as if taking her calm along with it.

It's replaced by restlessness.

There is a cajole, a whispered cajole, that urges her feet to run, her mind to think, her heart to wonder.

She follows. One step, and another.

The scene changes.

There are no more trees, no more green with the sun's shine.

At a distance, the waves crash on the sandy shore, their meet with their shore echoing in the silent surroundings.

She looks around and sees it.

The silhouette, now apparent that it was a man, standing with his back to her. He looks unbothered. As if he stole her peace and gave her his unrest in return.

She tries to walk slowly towards, footsteps imprinting on the sand, but the distance never seems to lessen or end.

She tries running, but to no avail.

The waves continue crashing, the footprints continue to get imprinted and the man continues to remain still and silent.

The only change has been in the sky, which is now leaden, dark with humongous clouds.

The thunder begins to cackle.

Once, Twice, Thrice.

She closes her ears with her hands, eyes shut to reduce the impact of the thunderous noise reverberating through every single one of her bones. But the roar keeps getting louder and louder until...

Her eyes snap open, but the echo from her sweven doesn't leave her. She turns around to find her phone ringing, straining her eyes with incredulous bright light (that she forgot to dim). The caller ID is barely registered, but the voice gives away the identity.

It's her sister.

With a flash, all the haze from the peculiar dream gets lost and bubbly happiness takes up the emptied space.

It's their birthday.

The first one since she came here. She had been so busy unknotting the twisted knots of circumstances in which she found herself tangled, that she had forgotten about the once unforgettable occasion of her life.

Maybe she has really lost that childhood she held on so tightly to, she thinks.

But not without a hope. Of a chance to get it back.

Maybe differently.

But the want to relive those carefree days, where the colour of pens you get as gifts, and the decision of who gets the piece of cake with the chocolate masterpiece on it were the only things that held importance. All other worldly, societal woes were secondary, trivial, uncared for.

She wishes her sister and she wishes her back.

3..2..1.. Happy Birthday! To Us!

They scream-whisper together, carrying on the years' long tradition.

The only thing different? They were on their cellulars, ecospheres apart, instead of snuggling and shouting together, and annoying their brother for an entire day.

Subconsciously, a tee-hee escapes her. Thinking about her brother, she takes a look at the clock. Correct 12:03 am on 12th August. If she knows him, he is probably counting the seconds.

At 12:05 am to the dot, another shrill echoes through the silent apartment. Her guess is correct.

On the other side of the screen, sits Idhayan arranging the cake so that Pooja can see the eloquent buttercream designs he has hand made on it.

In the background, there is a blurry motion. It turns out to be Alekhya.

She jumps onto the couch beside their brother, putting an end to his steady concentration.

He makes an irritated face, while she laughs.

And Pooja just watches, giggling alone.

The pang in her chest reminds her, once & once more, about just how much she misses them.

How empty, monochromatic her life is, with all these miles between them.

For the past year, every time any event took a turn for the worse, broke her, or hurt her, she wanted to go back to her safe haven.

The place where the chronicles of her life begun.

Many times, she had found herself convinced (by others as well as her self doubting mind) that she didn't belong here. That she didn't have the calibre, the skills to strive in this fight of dogs, in this race of horses where she felt like a donkey.

Or maybe a snail.

She dreamed of sleeping in her mother's lap when she first found herself in the crossroads of feelings and reason. Making her muddled head clear with words that never crossed the barrier between dream and reality.

When Mrs Martinez died, she imagined herself sitting on the swing, her brother's comfort brownies reduced to messy crumbs, as she let the mountain winds take away the burden of dread that pressed upon her heart.

And the day when Landry's backstab became eminent? She visualized her sister ripping him down, shredding him with knives of words because that's what he deserved.

She knew her father would have made them both coffee like he always did when he came home during breaks from piloting. He would have said a mere few words, which would have been enough for her to see the path ahead.

The mini virtual celebration ends, and the silence settles again. Tendrils of sleep come and go, but never stay.

She is left alone with her thoughts and worries, and a fear of the unknown which is hidden by the curtains of the future.

--------

The day passes like a swift blowing wind in a desert.

It's quiet, too quiet.

And probably for the first time in her life, she adores it. To be away from the hustle of a celebration, which would have been a noise in the cacophony, given the situation.

To get a period of silence for her thoughts to drift away, to think about the unknown, to predict a make or break.

The pages are turned swiftly by her fingers, one of which is clad with a minimal gold ring, another old ritual of hers.

The library harbours the overworked interns, who are now pushing the boundaries of time to find a way to help their friend out.

Their tired eyes pain with the lack of sleep, coffee fuelling through their veins, and mind engrossed in picking up any clue, any line, any tip that could be supportive for them.

Hours pass, no-one utters a word. Pens run on empty notebooks, hands managing to create only messy scribbles. Black and Blue fill the white as if it never existed.

The clock strikes the end hour.

They all get up.

They go home together, for discussions and relaxation.

At the doorstep, everyone enters before her, while she stands still, too engulfed in worries to notice the happenings.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Confetti pops, her reverie is broken.

The smile shines like a jewel in a priceless necklace.

The arrangements are minimal, just champagne, cake and friends, but that's more than enough for her. To make her forget the dark fog of pessimism.

Maybe there is hope left.

-------

Second Year:

12th August.

The day that is drifting closer by the minute.

It has always been Alekhya's birthday for her.

On her phone, In her diary, In her mind.

People might regard it as a beautiful flaw of her nature, the flaw of always placing others before herself.

But to her, the instinct seemed natural, obvious. She had never delved into the whys, and she doesn't want to begin now.

For Alekhya, the circumstances became vice-versa.

And this was the beauty of their bond.

Strong, Pure and Selfless.

They never seem to realize that, though.

They hold onto the strings of simplicity, of sweet uncomplexity. And that is what helps them to bridge the gap between siblings and best friends.

After the tumultuous year, that very much resembled the completion of a voyage through the rough Indian Ocean, where storms ravage through days and endless nights, thunders crack, and waves that scale the heights between the ocean and sky to become mountains of water, crash on the feeble pieces of wood barely held together in the form of a boat, coming back to her origin, her hometown is a necessity.

Especially for her to find that normalcy again.

She survived.

Even though she fell, almost drowned, gasped for a breath more times she could count and nearly accepted her fate.

Until that is, the pale faces of the ones she holds close, the endless stream of tears that scale their cheeks, their breaking hearts, came to haunt her in her reverie and prevented her from closing her eyes & from letting that almost undetectable beat of heart stop.

The wishes from last year come back to her. This time, it wasn't virtual anymore. This time, it wasn't just painted in pixels, but written in buttercream letters, one which she could taste.

This time, the hugs weren't just virtual. They were very real, and very needed.

As she sits amidst the bushes of phenomenal florals, she lets her mind project in vivid colours, the extremities of the last year.

Her heart, breaking into tiny glass pieces, not perceived by the eye but sharp enough to draw blood.

The fear of losing and letting so many others lose along.

The coming close and going away, almost kisses and slide of unassuming hands, those which could easily be perceived as a mistake, but were anything but.

Competing in a nameless competition and almost dying in the process.

Getting the lost love back. Slowly, Gradually. (even if it felt too early to call it that)

And then... Her mind stops as the playful tunes start emanating out along with florescent light from the cellular, and the face of the one who has been a regular image of the thoughts that lull her to sleep.

On the other side, his voice is soft.

She can visualize him in the Diagnostics Office, leaning back on his chair.

Most probably on a break.

The new day hasn't even started for him, yet he remembers that it has, for her.

Their talks are interspersed with comfortable silence. For them, just the knowledge that the person on the other side is still there with them is enough.

All through the conversation, she waits.

In a hope that the irrelevant and unimportant date is written in faded letters somewhere in that brilliant mind of his.

As the line approaches its end, talks slowly halt, she feels a faint pang of sadness.

Maybe he doesn't remember it after all.

She bids her farewell, and as his finger hovers close to the end call button, she hears it.

Crystal Clear but still seeming unreal.

Happy Birthday, Pooja.

Her thanks are intermixed with a light giggle, unable to hold back the pleasure that erupts within her, along with the flutter called butterflies in her stomach.

Maybe there is always hope left, after all.

-------

Last year of Residence:

There have been countless moments when she has asked the time to wait, to slow its rushing footsteps that leave no mark behind.

Sometimes it's a beg, while in other vespertine hours, it's a mindless murmur.

This moment is one of them.

When a handful of sand is slowly released on a windy day, the swooshes and swishes carry them away, farther and farther, leave them with no choice but to fly along.

The minutes were being carried away by the same current, where they had no choice but to pass.

No one had the power to hold it, not even the mighties, the richest, the most supreme.

The conditions now extensively mimic the conditions during her first year.

Just this time, it was textbooks on internal medicine and medical procedure instead of ethics.

The wishes that day are hushed, the minimal party comprising of cupcakes and mug cakes and the gang, christened "The Invincibles" after they successfully tackle one hurdle and another but remain strong and together, in their PJs.

It must be one of the first nights since who knows how long when they spent their time doing an activity that doesn't involve colour coded tabs and complicated biological drawings.

And even though some of them make faux complaints about the wasted time, they all needed this break more than they could express.

The morning sun rays filter through the white curtains guarding the windows way too fast, making them unable to pinpoint the exact moment when the black of the night ceased to exist, when the sky became melanocrysus and when the golden took over the entire stretch.

A single text message pushes her to drop the blanket of laziness, the cocoon she inhabited. Getting up and placing a smile has never been as easy as it was now.

Come Over

------

The condo is inhabited by a stark silence when she reaches there.

She knocks. The click of the doorknob on the other side is almost instantaneous.

His hand wraps around her waist like a reflex deeply etched in his encephalon. For the first time in forever, their kisses are not chaste. Or momentary.

When he whispers a happy birthday wish against her forehead, that's what she would call intimacy.

The purity of the action touches her heart and makes it swell, with an emotion that she predicts will not remain unnamed any longer.

-------

First-year as an attending:

The celebratory vibes are in the air today.

Her stride is confident, heels playing a mellow harmony on the shining floors.

No one doesn't recognize her.

The intern who nearly lost her license to the Head of Diagnostics team, it was a journey that had thrown her off-road a million times.

Sometimes the barriers were pinpricks leaving no marks, and sometimes they were boulders crushing her.

And sometimes, one of these on-lookers would tear down her faith by stabbing her from the back, the cowardice of their soul, being mirrored in the blades of those knives of betrayal.

And yet she stands strong, her resolve unperturbed, as she faces the demons, those of others and those of her own.

It's a fight she has been learning to fight since she was eleven.

To curtain her tears with a glow in eyes, to hide the broken heart behind pretty lies. And just like practice makes one perfect, she has almost perfected the art of having to hide the real her inside.

As she passes the numerous congregations, amalgamations of patients and staff, she is greeted by wishes from old acquaintances whose kindness is apparent in their smile and by wishes of employed enemies, whose disinterest or sometimes blatant hate is too, completely apparent in their voice.

But they are not the ones she is worried about.

Interspersed between these two extremities are people who speak kind and in flattery lines with a sword behind their back.

Those who know how to hide their true intentions in the modulations of voice.

Every time she hears a wish where nothing is apparent, her heart stops for a while.

Strings of thought muddle her head and she tries to figure out the reality behind their words.

Sometimes she succeeds, sometimes she fails.

And sometimes she faces vehement opposition of her tired nerves who ask her to stop caring about those who are passing by.

But she never stops.

Her legs carry her to the Diagnostics office.

Her Office.

The swell of pride, of a fulfilment she last felt when she got into Edenbrook, make her head light.

She tries to stop but gives up the efforts soon.

If she has realized something through the twists of lawsuits and turns of almost dying, it is that if you keep waiting for the turns of the clock to approach a "right moment" for a chance to celebrate, you will probably keep waiting your entire life until your breath is being taken away and all that is left are regrets and missed opportunities of happiness.

So she twirls like a princess in her imaginary ball gown, beaming with satisfaction, and taking pride in giving herself the give of success.

Of making her loved ones and herself proud.

She gets so carried away in the train of thoughts, in which one bougie is connected by another, and one more, that she doesn't notice the person who preoccupies the room.

The halt is so sudden, that she almost tumbles upon the man. Almost.

She manages to get hold of herself, her hand on his back.

He turns, eyes meet.

If someone would have asked her what is cosmic, she would have said "The melt of glowing ambers into ice blue." Sure, she has looked into them more times than she can count or recollect. But every time their orbs meet, the reactions the action produces, she can only give the word seraphic to it.

When Ethan left for Amazon, she would often wonder why is she still keeping the lamp of hope alive. His absquatulation broke her, acted like a spark to her over-thinking mind. She would lie on her bed, eyes tracing the same lines on the ceiling above her over and over again, thinking just what she did wrong. She never reached the end of the path though, never really achieved the answer, even after meandering through a hundred courses of thoughts.

But now, she thanks her old self for living through it all. For not letting that lamp extinguish. For keeping it safe in a little corner of the labyrinths of her heart. Wordlessly, she hugs him, the plethora of emotions becoming quite too much to be expressed in minute syllables.

His whisper next to her ears, the innocently simplistic words induce a shiver in her spine.

But the last word.

4 letters, 1 word.

It hangs in the air like a diamond necklace around a maiden's neck. Like a tiny pendant that shines brighter than all elaborate jewels, all lengthy anecdotes.

It's enough, more than enough for her.

And as their smiles slowly spread like the slow rise of the golden sun, gently letting the rays spread through the humble earth. And those smiles, they shine together, brighter than the Sirius.

Happy Birthday, Love.

-------

Her casual gown, bearing floral patterns, flutters along with the soft grass, she feels a sense of wonder. Whether at the shimmering moon, the stardust spread through the stretch in the woods, or at the simplicity of her surroundings, she does not know.

Her unassuming footsteps walk slow, observant of her surroundings. After walking down the trail, she stops at the clearance.

At a distance, something shines under the silver moonbeams. Her mind beckons her to return back, but her intuition asks her to move on. She listens to the latter's plea.

A small cuboidal box and a bunch of white tulips lay peacefully out of place. She usually would have left it, just in case it was a trap.

But this time curiosity overtook reason and she picks the bouquet up. A small note amidst her favourite flowers.

I love you

No name. No initials. But she knew exactly who had written it. Not because he was the one who asked her to come here, in the heaven hidden amidst the chaos, but because those flourishes of his fanciful lettering would never escape her notice. Even if the only source of luminance was distant fairy lights on trees and the faint moonbeams.

Her eyes travel away from the articles. At a distance, the silhouette stands. The same silhouette from her sweven. But this time, there is no restlessness, no rush, no tension in the air. No thunder cackles and no waves crash. This time the silhouette waits for her, unlike the last time when it was her waiting for him.

He turns, only the shine of his orbs visible. And the shadow of the gorgeous smile that dances on his lips. The last time, his stone mask was too heavy, too powerful for any of them to break or move.

But this time? This time, the mask has fallen off, it has met the end of its existence.

He comes closer, the shadow now a clear image. He goes and picks up the cuboid and hands it to her.

"Open it" He whispers in a soft voice, that disappears as soon as it appears.

She takes it and opens it, as per his words. Everything is perfect and normal.

Except for the space in the middle.

Something sparkles, in silver lustre. Her first instinct is, Diamond? She decided to pick it up

It's a key.

She looks up to him, bewildered. Is it what she thinks it is?

Move-in with me?

She places the box of chocolates down, the key held tight in her fist.

And then she kisses him.

She doesn't have to speak a word, but he understands. After all, why would two intertwined hearts need verbal responses to know what the other one feels?

Only his home, can fill the brick walls of his house with love, and make it a home.

------

They both lay side by side on the lush grass, hands intertwined, hearts beating in unison, silence filling their souls like air fills their lungs.

They look at the stars and the moon. Or more appropriately, the gaze at the starry screen, but the mind plays significant moments from their time together.

Pooja's mind however thinks about the four of her birthdays since she set foot in Boston. The mundane softness of them, contrasting all the birthdays she has had in the rest of her years.

The photo frame of the interns from the first year. The group video call, her life from the second year. The PJ party from the third year. And the key from the fourth.

They are puzzle pieces of the saga of her life, the absence of friends from early years, the gap, the void now filled.

And after years of searching, she thinks she has finally found it. Hidden in the normality, the simplicity, the mundanity of life.

Happiness.

PS: If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

Tags🤎 (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

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