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certaimromance · 10 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.

Boyfriend!Reid x Messy!reader

Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.

Words: 2,3k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. bau!reader. lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).

Saturday afternoon

“Two dollars?!”

Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.

You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.

It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.

“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”

Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.

“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.

“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.

It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.

“My love life is going downhill.” You said.

Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.

“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”

“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.

“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”

At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”

“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.

You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.

“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”

“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”

“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”

You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.

“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”

Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”

“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”

When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.

“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”

You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.

However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.

“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.

“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.

“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”

“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.

“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.

You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”

They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.

You weren't going to lose your mind over this.

Monday morning

You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.

All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.

But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.

A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.

“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.

But obviously, it wasn't him.

“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.

“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.

In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.

“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.

“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.

He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm sorry, I just thought—”

“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”

That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.

“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.

His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.

“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.

The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side.

“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.

Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.

“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I...I thought you—” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.

“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it—” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.

“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”

With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.

“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.

He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”

“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”

Perhaps he was your prince after all.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mon’s fics ♡

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months ago

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I reread Dauntless Matchmaker recently and I love it, could you please make another part? Either that or another part for One Hell of a Bellhop, Legal Compensation, or Mr Flavors Soda, any of the above would be great, your choice ^-^

Danny skips up the stairs towards Wayne Manor's front entrance with a binder, a few notebooks, and his laptop tucked away in his carry bag. Humming under his breath, he raises his hand to knock. Before he can touch the wood, the door swings open to the beaming face of his fake boyfriend, Tim Drake.

"Hi!" The other gasps breathlessly. He adjusts his cardigan from where it had fallen off his left shoulder. Danny has noticed something about Tim. He was always so nervous and clumsy. The poor thing was taking his heartbreak badly.

"Hi, Tim." Danny grins. He holds up his NASA theme bag with pride. "I brought the stuff!"

His boss' brother lets out a string of nervous chuckles that slowly dissolve, coughing when he chokes on his spit. Alarmed, Danny started smacking his back in hopes of helping. He wishes he could say this was a one-time thing, but Tim, unfortunately, does this often.

"Master Tim?" Alfred calls from down the left hallway.

"I'm fine! Everything-cough-hack- everything is fine!" Tim screams back, entirely red and looking a tad bit mortified. Clearing his throat, he straightens to full height, back pin straight and looking every bit the young gentleman of his standing. "Shall we move to the viewing room?"

Danny knows he's only trying to save face, so he only smiles and steps inside. As they had agreed on two weeks ago, Danny loops his arm through Tim's, pressing himself close to the other's side, just as Alfred walks by.

The aged man seems pleased to see them so affectionate, which Damian said Danny had to play up because otherwise, it would not be believable. Tim only dated men and women who showed their care through physical touch, and he was often seen holding hands or looping arms with his partners.

As it is, Tim does his part well, beaming up at Danny. He was taller after hitting a second growth spurt, but sadly, he seemed to take after his mother rather than his father. Danny was only two inches taller than Tim.

On the other hand, Jazz grew like a weed. Once it became apparent, she took after Jack in height. Dan's appearance gave Danny hope that he would break the six-foot mark in a few years—you know, if the madness and devouring Plasmius didn't affect his development too much.

"What are you showing me today?" Tim asks as they stride past Damian. The younger boy makes a face, the same one Danny made whenever Jazz brought over a boy, and they were being sickly sweet. He offers his boss a smile in return, watching those intense green eyes roll.

"I brought evidence of why Yetis' healthcare is far superior to ours." Danny pats his bag with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing beats Frostbite."

Tim melts. "That's amazing. I can't wait to hear all about it. Then we could go get dinner. How does Divine Palace sound?"

"The upscale restaurant? I would need to change before I'm allowed in there. It has a dress code, doesn't it?"

Tim snuggles closer. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"You know it's bad luck to wear someone else's clothes?" Danny tells him they have just arrived at the viewing room. The projector is set up, and Danny is waiting to plug in his laptop. A sizeable plush couch is pushed in front of the large empty wall, where Tim plans to curl up and watch Danny's presentation.

Meeting someone who adored all the educational information about Ghosts and their culture was lovely. Danny's parents were more interested in the aspects of biology and anatomy than the sociology and anthropology he studied.

After he finished his slide show—sadly without pictures as ghosts disrupted the camera—he would show Tim his notes, which the two could flip through together on the couch. Since his PowerPoint lacked images, Danny settled for some drawings and blurry photos he had stored in his binder while exploring the Zone.

He started it when he was fourteen, gradually growing over the years.

"Why's that?" Tim asks, throwing himself on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. He places his elbow on the meat of his thigh and leans his head on his hand, his eyes never leaving Danny.

They seem to be shining, utterly captivated by the Halfa.

"It makes it easier for ghosts to overshadow you," Danny answers promptly, unzipping his bag to take out the materials from his bag. He had to look away from his friend because the way he was staring was making him a bit flustered.

"Overshadow?"

"It's another way of saying possession, but it's more politically correct." He responds, plugging in the wires to his laptop and watching the lock screen of his computer appear on the wall. "My sister's first boyfriend attempted to do that to her. Gave her some of his girlfriend's stuff so she could form around her and use Jazz as an anchor to stay on this plane."

"And you saved her before he could succeed," Tim sighs adoringly.

Danny puffs out his chest. "I did!"

Tim pressed a button on the side of his couch. At once, the thing expands, pushing the backrest down and expanding the bottom until it forms an even flat surface. Danny initially thought it was a recliner, but apparently, rich people had couches that could turn into beds in seconds.

He lays flat on his stomach, kicking his feet and leaning on both hands as he smiles like a loon at Danny. "That's amazing."

Danny bites his lip, trying to be modes,t but it's hard when he's being praised by someone like Tim Drake.

"Well, it's just what a good brother does. All I really had to do was use his bad luck against him, and really, Jazz sort of snapped out it when he tried to punch me," He babbles while scrambling to log into his account. He needs to do something before he bursts from all the giddy, mushy feeling in his chest. "It was nothing compared to when I had to win a pie-eating contest against Baker."

"Hmm?"

"Baker is a pasty theme ghost that is shockingly powerful. He locked me in a battle for five days before I convinced him to switch to a food theme contest." Danny laughs, shaking his head at the memories. "I was stuck in bed for a day with the biggest stomach ache, but I won that day. And victory was sweet."

Tim swoons.

Just as Danny is booting up the presentation, his superhearing catches the whispers of Tim's other siblings from the hallway. Damian had instructed him not to let anyone else in the household learn the truth of his contract because it would eventually get back to Alfred.

After meeting the man, he completely understands the paranoia.

"Who is that?" He's pretty sure that's the oldest Dick.

"Tim's new obsession." Answers Steph with a smirk in her words. "Apparently, he's some paranormal-obsessed conspiracy theorist."

"Why does he always go for the crazy ones?" Jason sighs dramatically.

"Have you seen Danny's biceps? Were it not for his health issues, I would have thought Tim found a secret off-duty hero."

Danny hastily focuses on his first slide, trying not to show his fear. Tim continues to watch him kick his feet and play with some of his hair. He has a habit of twirling his hair. Tim almost always does that whenever Danny sees him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dauntless matchmaker #Part 3 #Dead tired #Tim is a simp #Danny is stupid #Tim thinks Danny is crazy but cute #The Waynes are watching him be a simp #Damian realizing that he did too good of a job

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pocmuzings · 2 months ago

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welcome to a guide for 2025 rpc and a throwback to the importance of creating well rounded , developed characters .

a general lovenote and reminder on how to create characters people want to rp with , as discussed by g. please note , these are all my own thoughts and feelings , but i'm not ' married ' to any of this . i'm happy for open conversation , thoughts , feedback etc , but i don't tolerate aggressive messaging .

the first thing i think about when i think about my character , whether for a rp , a book , a short story , or a 1x1 partner is . . . where is my character ? not just physically , but emotionally . what got them there ? what have they already overcome ? what do they have LEFT to overcome ?

whenever i write or create a character , i think about them in the same way i think about any story making . stories ( typically and in some manner ) have beginnings , climaxes and ends . they also have problems that need to be solved ( or not solved ) . there's an arc we follow . we go up the mountain , then back down again .

a beginning is not necessarily ' born in 1982 , to two loving parents ' . it doesn't need to be a beginning of time , but can just be the beginning to your characters story . e.g ' despite having two loving parents , she had a deep focus on soccer . if not soccer , then maths . if not maths , something else . from a young age , she strove for perfection and being the best at something .'

this beginning sets the tone of your character . in a few sentence , we can already see what kind of person she is and know that she has some internal demons she's battling . we don't necessarily need her entire family tree unless it's critical to the story.

from there, we have our climax or problem statement , where things really begin to boil . again , it doesn't necessarily need to be ' everything came to a head when her mother died ' . we can make it more character focused by writing ' in 2012 , her mother died and she threw herself into trying to create the perfect replacement family . she got married to 4 different men in the space of 5 years , and has 5 children shared among them , as well as 2 step children . but she is unable to settle down . she feels restless . she finds it hard to be a mother because everything reminds her of her own mother , and the loss she's endured . ' now , we already know two things about our character :

1 . she wants to be perfect and the best , including at creating families

2 . she is terrified of her role in motherhood due to the loss of her own mother and feeling unmoored without her

this can then take us to the problem solving portion of the character . this is usually where i like to start my character in rps and 1x1 and novel worlds . we have these 2 issues and 2 core beliefs within the character . they're instrumental to her . how are we going to overcome it ? ARE we going to overcome it ?

we can begin to think of the butterfly effect in terms of our character . we can begin to think of the tree and its branches growing within her , extending out to other characters . we can see how she effects other people , including those close to her , not close to her , new friends , old friends , new love interests , past interests . we can create drama and connections because we have a strong foundation .

so . where does it end ? does it need to end happily ? simple answer is no . your character can end in the exact same place as they did at the beginning , but the point is that we've gone on the journey with the character . maybe we've seen her talk to her mother's grave . maybe we've seen her go to grief counselling . maybe she's gotten pregnant or married again . the problem statement doesn't stop her or stick her in one place . in fact , if anything , it can encourage her to keep making the same mistakes . on the coin flip , she can learn . she can grow . she can heal . she can mend the relationships with her kids , her past partners , rekindle love , or find new love . the whole point in the made-up 'ending' for a character , is that we have options . we haven't locked her down . we can continue to plot , connect , develop , etc , as we go along .

QUESTIONS AND THOUGHTS I CONSIDER WHEN CREATING A CHARACTER :

how has your character ended up where they are right in this moment? think about where you’re starting them from, and what that looks like realistically. not just physically : how did they get to this place ? but also mentally : what did they have to do to become the person they are ? was it good or bad ? everything you are and do and become as a human is made up of tiny almost inconsequential decisions or choices you made. you decided to study x. you broke up with y. your parent passed away so you had to come back to your childhood home. your illustrious career came crashing down and you need a place to cool off. you never left here, you’ve been here from the beginning, because you’re searching for something. what is it? what is the thing that has your character right where they are in this exact moment ?

what emotion do they feel the most? regret, anger, longing, nostalgia ? this helps drive your characters motives past and presently. it also helps you understand their goals. what they want to achieve and why. maybe they yearn for longing and friendship and connection because they never got it as a child, whether at home or at school. maybe they regret not keeping in touch with their childhood friends because now they are surrounded by people they can’t trust and work in a shitty environment where you have to climb over others to get on top. everyone has a goal. everyone has an emotion that drives it. what is your characters and why does it matter? how does it present?

when’s the last time they cried and why? everybody cries and everybody cries in very different ways. it says a lot about the emotional state of a character and their emotional health. are they in tune with their emotions and cry at appropriate times? do they compartmentalise it? do they only cry when angry? dig into it and think of the why why why. why does my character only cry at this one thing? why does my character only feel safe crying alone? why.

what is your characters biggest regret in life? did they get on a plane when they should have stayed? did they study a subject only because their parents wanted them to? did they not kiss the girl when they wanted to? let’s be honest. our lives are filled with “if only i’d done xyz” . if only . this also provides a great opportunity to MAKE these plots and plot with other people. now we can come up with exes or ex best friends or old flames or whatever whatever , because there’s a good chance your character regrets something that impacts someone else and they regret it BECAUSE of that impact .

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS AND TIPS I'VE PICKED UP WHILE RPING

honestly the more “whys” you can answer for your character, the more in depth you’re getting. in order for other people to understand your character, you need to understand them yourself. you can’t expect people to write with your character if they don’t really have much of a stable personality and your plots don’t make much sense. remember: plotting should contribute to your character and their development. human relationships don’t just exist because we like them. they exist because they serve an unserved part within ourselves.

genuinely think of their hobbies. it’s all well and good to say “she’s a bookworm and loves puzzles” “he likes music” but like. what does that actually mean? WHY do they like certain things ? do they like reading books or writing? do they like fantasy and escapism because it reminds them of childhood? do they listen to only their dads favourite music because they miss him? do they make playlists for niche and specific moods only applicable to them? why are their hobbies important to them?

consider their connections, not just future but npc and current. how would 5 close friends describe them in one word? how would their ex describe them in one word? what is one thing that others could safely always rely on your character for (eg designated driver on nights out, always having some type of fidgeting device, knowing a phone app to help you meditate or streamline a process etc etc). we all exist in the worlds of our loved ones, past, present and future. we leave marks with them. we are known to them. so what is your character known and loved for?

pick your plot first, not your fc or your character. i know this sounds counterintuitive but when you have a plot for a character and a clear path for development - it helps everything else fall into place. the worst thing are characters that are plotless (specifically for group rping). i’m going to be honest here: your character has to have something to give other characters. whether it’s drama, information, hidden secrets, a connection… your character has to have something of substance. i’d actually prefer they’re a stereotype then they’re just aimless and personality-less. when you have a big overarching plot and path for your character, it will not only help you plot with others, but also help keep your character moving and not JUST reliant on others to pick up the slack

rping has always used the yes and…? rule. that extends to your characters. instead of yes and…? think of So… what? your character loves to bake. ok. so what? what does that mean for a thread, or another character? why do we care? maybe we’d care if your character bakes experimental stuff and loves to test it on other muses. maybe we’d care if your character used to be a professional baker but hasn’t baked lovingly in a while. maybe we’d care if your character is a baker but has lost their charm and schtick and can’t bake the way they used to. this stuff is important. don’t just stick arbitrary things onto your character and expect others to care, especially when you don’t care and have just put it on your character as a random quirk. that’s not how people and humans work. everything means everything.

your character doesn’t have to be likeable but they do have to be memorable. evil nasty girls, manipulative jerks… yeah that’s all ok! but also you kinda have to show, don’t tell. you can’t just SAY your character is the “head bitch in charge” and then she never actually talks or says anything or does anything. sorry, but in order for me to see your character, you actually have to write them or at the very least headcanon them. otherwise, they’re just a blob of musings in the ether.

in order to create a character , you have to write your character . i see this a lot in groups .. people love to create a character pinterest , graphics , aesthetics galore . its amazing ! but they don't actually write the character and it can close off a lot of opportunities to plot because people don't know who your character really is . i hate to say it , and its not true for everyone but : if you're relying on aesthetic , then you could be lacking in the actual creation and writing aspect . plus , people have come here to WRITE with YOU . not just see fan edits of your character . write . write badly . write starters , even if they scare you . write with people you don't know . write with yourself . write with your best friend . but you have to actually do the writing part .

#rph #rpc #character help #character development #this is just babble watch me get weird and delete it in a day or two FDKJNFDNJF #this seems sooo egotistical as if im some writing god .. like fr shutup g...#I SWEAR IM NOT AN EGOMANIAC A FEW PPL MESSAGED BEFORE AND SAID THEYD WANT THIS . . ITS JUST MY THOUGHTS N FEELINGS IN 2025 #IVE SEEN SOME SHOCKINGLY BAD CHARACTERS DKJNFDJKNFJN sorry thats mean but like . . yk .. some ppl rlly only focus on fc or aesthetic #me : constantly sweating over aesthetics #also me in this guide : dont worry abt aesthetic!#ok now im babbling again #this has been in my phone notes app for sooo long im cleansing myself..#also this is embarrassing bc its not even well written #OK FR SHUTTING UP NOW #hope this does help someone out there #my guide #my writing

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cosmicplexus · 1 year ago

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Random Astrology Observations

🌻I wasn't feeling lazy today so this is a bit longer than the usual observation posts🌻

🦋And finally the pricing catalogue is here...at the end of the observations 🦋

Thank you so much my sunflowers🌻your support has been everything. I try my best to respond to your messages and requests. If you haven't received a response, I'm coming 🤍✨

And I tried my best to be reasonable with the prices. Also, I'm not yet doing full chart readings as I am a student with two majors and I'm already struggling with balancing things. In time I will do them. Free one question culture requests are still open, but please don't request for things you see on the pricing catalogue like a big three reading...

I don't want to bore you all too much so here we go🧚🏾‍♀️🦋🌻✨

Astrology Notes...

~4th house Gemini makes for someone who develops family-like bonds in friendships.

~taurus risings tend to be possessive due to the influence of their scorpio 7th house.

~pluto at angular houses 1st, 7th, 4th and 10th is a huge indicator of someone who has had intense experiences in the respective key areas of life and there's spiritual lessons to be learnt regarding that area through transformation.

~libra venus placements may find it really hard to stay single

~7° and 19° venus or moon signs may struggle with the theme of physical perfection and wanting to attain it.

~virgo moons have a tendency of creating problems if they don't have any current ones to solve

~capricorn risings really do look older in their younger days and younger when they're older.

~moon and neptune in 1st house natives may give off the perception that they need saving and may attract people with a martyrdom complex.

~sagittarius, 9th house, 9° and 21° mercuries may have an affinity to music in foreign languages while cancer, 4th house, 4°,16°,28° may enjoy music in their mother tongue

~jupiter in 2nd house and 10th house is heavy lotto winner vibes. Literally and figuratively.

~mercury in 2nd house and at Taurean degrees(2°,14° and 26°) are the born singers

~the 22nd degree is an underrated fame degree...I have a bey's🐝 fame analysis I've been sitting on for a while. That's a conversation for another day.

~pisces venus and mars are the most romantic people in the world which makes me kind of believe the astrology theory of neptune being the higher frequency of venus.

~leo moons really take their hair seriously and may feel out of loop if their hair is not well done.

~want to easily impress a cancer mars man??? Sing praises to your mom. Be dotting around kids.

~girls with 9th house, 9° and 21° Venus are so magically beautiful. Abundance of beauty.

~To a decent degree, liberation of women in society came at the expense of gemini, sagittarius and aquarius venus women being slut-shamed(This is not at all saying other women did not contribute to the liberation of women 🌻✨ That's a conversation for another day)

~neptune plays a huge role in beauty trends and that's why neptune dominant women are usually the beauty influencers which explains why beauty standards are mutable and ever changing.

~jupiter in 7th house can go two ways... extreme luck in meaningful relationships or someone who never has serious relationships and is forever on the look...

~pisces/12th house mercuries and mercury afflicted by neptune are often under fire for being the liars when the real culprit is the sagittarius/9th house mercuries and mercury-jupiter hard aspects.

~I personally view the north node as a jupiter variant. While the general consensus is that it is the purpose we're working for, I do believe that it's also an indicator of our birthrights, innate gifts and where we're lucky.

~Cosmic Plexus🌻🤍

§~PRICE CATALOGUE~§ ~PAID READINGS COMMENCE ON THE 16th of May 2024 🦋DETAILED BIG THREE READING ~ $6.00

🦋5 IN-DEPTH SYNASTRY QUESTIONS READING ~ $9.00 🦋OVERALL SYNASTRY ADVICE ~ $3.00

🦋SPIRITUALITY AND PURPOSE FOCUSED READING ~ $6.00 🦋CAREER ADVICE ~ $3.00 🦋 RELATIONSHIP REMEDY TIPs $3.00

Let me know your thoughts...

~Cosmic Plexus🤍✨🌻🦋©️

#astrology observations #astro notes #birth chart #moon sign #natal chart #synastry astrology #astrology blog #gemini placements #taurus #virgo #capricorn #leo #sagittarius #pisces #cancer

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baelarys · 1 year ago

Text

Thérèse

Aemond targaryen x Reader Niece velaryon

word count : 1180

Warning : angust, Insest , Suicide, death of a minor,Mention of blood and cheese ,Delicate and explicit topics

Author's note : I born to be the mother of a girl.

Thérèse pt2

She was your everything, the reason for your joy, your greatest treasure. When Alysa was born, the happiness you felt was indescribable. She looked so much like you: her brown hair and dark eyes were a reflection of yours, and it filled you with an even deeper love.

Every day since her birth, you felt blessed. You watched each of her small gestures, her smile that lit up the room, and each babbling that made you laugh. Alysa had not only inherited your physical traits, but also your spirit, your energy, and your joy for life.

“Can you say mom?” you asked softly to the baby you held in your arms. “Mom,” you repeated in a warm, encouraging voice as you rocked Alysa back and forth.

Her big dark eyes looked at you curiously, her small mouth forming a soft smile. Each attempt of her to imitate you was another step in her development, and it filled you with indescribable pride.

“Come on, little girl, you can do it,” you whispered, bringing her face closer to yours so he could see you better. Alysa babbled something unintelligible, but to you, it was like music.

“Mommy,” you repeated once again, continuing to rock her. Alysa looked at you with those curious eyes, and even though she couldn't form the word yet, you knew she would soon.

The doors to your room suddenly opened, interrupting the moment of peace. You turned to see who it was, and found Aemond standing in the doorway. He looked visibly upset.

“My mother invited you to have lunch with her,” he said, approaching you with a firm step. "You did not go."

“I was taking care of Alysa,” you replied, without much interest, as you continued rocking the baby.

Aemond frowned, his gaze stern. “You know how important your presence at these events is to her. You can’t just ignore their invitations.”

“I'm not ignoring her,” you replied, staying calm. “My priority is Alysa. She needed my attention.”

Aemond took a deep breath, trying to control his frustration. He approached you and looked at the little girl in your arms. His expression softened as he saw his daughter, his eyes filling with tenderness.

Without saying a word, he stretched out his arms to support Alysa. Carefully, you moved her from your arms to him. Aemond cradled her gently, his fingers gently stroking her brown hair. Alysa looked at him curiously, her small fingers trying to grab a strand of her father's hair.

“Look who's here, Alysa,” Aemond said in a warm voice he rarely used, reserved only for his daughter. "Is Dad."

The little girl giggled, her little face lighting up with joy. Aemond smiled, his eyes softening further as he looked at his daughter. It was a side of him that very few saw, a vulnerability that only Alysa could bring out.

––––––––

The last few days had been crazy. Aegon's proclamation as king had shaken the foundations of the Seven Kingdoms. The news of Lucerys' death and the looming possibility of war kept everyone in a constant state of anxiety.

In the midst of the political storm, you tried to remain calm, taking refuge in the tranquility and peace that Alysa provided you.

Every morning when you woke up, you heard the whispers of the servants and the worried murmurs that spread through the hallways. The atmosphere in the Red Keep was tense, with furtive glances and hushed conversations dominating the day. Aemond, for his part, found himself increasingly involved in court intrigues, forced to take an active role in his brother's new administration.

Despite everything, your priority was still Alysa. In their small world, politics and wars had no place. Her days were filled with laughter, games and discoveries, and you tried hard to keep that oasis of happiness intact.

You spent hours with her, reading old stories, singing lullabies, and observing each of her small accomplishments with wonder and pride.

One afternoon, while Aemond was away at a council meeting, you took Alysa to the castle gardens. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the scent of summer flowers. Sitting on the grass, you allowed Alysa to crawl around as she pleased, her giggles filling the space around you.

“You're growing up so fast, my princess,” you whispered to her, watching her reach for a butterfly flying nearby. “I wish I could keep you this happy forever, away from all the chaos that surrounds us.”

Just then, you felt a presence behind you. You turned and saw Aemond approaching, his expression a mix of tiredness and concern. Seeing you and Alysa, his face softened a little. He joined you on the grass, setting aside the concerns of the kingdom for a moment.

“I needed this,” Aemond said, taking Alysa into his arms and laughing softly when she tugged at his hair. “A moment of peace in the midst of so much disorder.”

“I know,” you nodded, touching his arm affectionately. “Here, in the gardens, everything seems so distant. We can forget for a moment what is happening out there.”

Aemond nodded, looking at his daughter lovingly. “I would like to be able to offer you a better future, one without wars and conflicts. But these are difficult times.”

“We will,” you said. “We will find a way to protect her and give her a happy life.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, enjoying the sun and the warm breeze. The garden became their refuge, a place where they could escape the worries of the outside world and simply be a family. Alysa laughed with every movement, her happiness was contagious and filled the air with pure and simple joy.

When night fell, you found yourself in Alysa's room, filled with toys scattered on the floor. The soft light of a couple of candles was the only thing that illuminated the gloom, creating dancing shadows on the walls. You watched Alysa sleep peacefully in her crib while you carefully folded some of her little dresses.

The silence was comforting, a pause in the tumult of the day. The candles flickered softly, casting a warm, welcoming light that made the room even more intimate. Alysa's every calm breath was a melody to your ears.

You hadn't sensed the presence of the two men who had entered the room until one of them collided with the small tower of blocks near the door. The sudden noise made you turn around quickly. At first, you thought it might be one of the wet nurses, but when you looked, you saw the faces of two men you didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" you asked, instinctively placing yourself in front of Alysa's crib. You tried to sound strong and authoritative, but your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

The men exchanged a quick look. One of them, a tall man with a scar on his cheek. “Who is she?” He asked his companion.

“The one-eyed prince's wife,” one of the men murmured with a sneer on his face. You clung tighter to the crib behind you, feeling the urge to protect Alysa. Both men looked dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew they hadn't come just to catch rats.

“You can go,” you said firmly, noticing how the men approached you, murmuring something about Aemond under their breath. Fear hit you, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure. You decided to turn to take Alysa in your arms and escape, but at that same moment, you felt one of the men grab you by the hair, pulling you back, while a small cold knife was placed on your throat.

Terror washed over you, but you tried to stay calm. Alysa continued sleeping, oblivious to the danger. “Let me go,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your eyes locked with your captor's.

"Give us the child and we will not harm you," said the tallest, most robust man.

"No...no" you responded, trying to get away from the smaller man who was still holding you tightly.

You saw the robust man approach Alysa's crib and you felt as if your heart was going to explode "wait... I have jewelry, gold, I will give you anything, even double what they gave you for coming here" tears fell down your face. cheeks as he removed some gold rings from your fingers and extended them towards the men.

The tall man removed the thin veil that covered Alysa's crib, you suppressed a scream. Trying not to wake the baby who was still sleeping.

“guards…” you tried to scream but the man pressed the knife harder on your throat, you cried, you didn't know what else to do, you started to panic.

The tears began to fall faster when you saw how the man took your little Alysa by her arms and reached for her, causing small moans of pain from the baby.

"No!" You tried to get out of the man's grip on you but you couldn't, you felt the smaller man hit your head with the butt of the knife and threw you towards the wall which caused you to hit your head with it.

You heard Alysa crying, the sound of flesh being pierced accompanied by the sound of blood running on the floor, your stomach turned, you felt like everything was happening in slow motion, Alysa's crying stopped followed by the rough sound of a small body falling against the floor.

The man took the baby's head to put it in a small sack to leave the room followed by the smaller man.

You looked at the scene without knowing what to do until you saw the headless body of your daughter and a large pool of blood accompanying it, you crawled towards her.

“no…no…no” you repeated desperately, your throat hurt, your heart hurt and the tears came out without stopping, clouding your vision, you took the small body in your arms, bathing your fine dress in blood.

A heartbreaking scream came from your throat, your Alysa, your little and dear daughter, has been taken from you in such a cruel and inhuman way

The sound of the footsteps of some guards entering the room didn't even make you look away from the puddle that your baby's body was releasing.

“Y/N” Aemond called but you didn't turn around, you drowned in your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death you couldn't protect her, you were a shame. A small scream came from your throat, clinging more and more to the body you held in your arms.

–––––––––––

The night cold insinuated itself through the cracks of the window, cooling the already gloomy atmosphere of the room. A Week had passed since Alysa had left, leaving a palpable emptiness that expanded with each beat of your heart. The pain, far from diminishing with time, seemed to cling more tightly to your soul, as if the passing of the days did nothing but revive the memories of that fateful night.

In the oppressive silence of your room, the absence of words and human contact was a conscious choice. You had chosen withdrawal, seeking refuge in solitude to face the emotional whirlwind that enveloped you. Not even Aemond, your husband, had managed to penetrate the wall of your pain. Every time he tried to get closer, you retreated a little further, wrapped in a blanket of silence and memories.

One of the maids silently entered the room, carrying with her a tray of food that she knew beforehand you wouldn't touch. With a respectful but concerned gesture, she placed the tray on a small table next to the bed, discreetly removing the morning tray that was still intact.

"Dinner, your highness," she announced quietly, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of your silent contemplation. Her eyes reflected a mixture of understanding and regret at your persistent refusal to feed yourself properly.

Nodding barely perceptibly, you acknowledged the delivery with a gesture while you watched her leave with soft and discreet steps watched him leave with soft and discreet steps. Dinner remained in front of you.

Your gaze fell on the small knife next to the butter, an almost insignificant detail in the composition of the tray. You watched it for a long moment, feeling ideas swirl and fade in your tumultuous mind. Among them all, a single idea persisted, firm as a beacon in the midst of the emotional storm that enveloped you.

With trembling but determined hands, you took the knife and headed to your bed, delicately passing the sharp object across your wrist watching as blood began to flow.

You were surprised not to feel anything, you laid down carefully feeling how the liquid wet the sheet beneath you while your eyelids became heavy you didn't fight to stay awake the only thing you wanted now was just to rest.

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crazybiscuit · 4 months ago

Text

Uptown Girl

Chapter 1

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: You, an out of touch rich pureblood, recently moved to England for yet another engagement prospect. Unfortunately, things don't go to plan as you somehow find yourself constantly running into a werewolf, who has developed a valid reason to dislike you. Warnings: This is going to be a long fic and the reader will be a bit of a bitch at first. The story will definitely contain violence, excessive use of alcohol, smut and mentions of death. This chapter doesn't have any graphic content though. On side note, this is set in 1983 and sadly, Lily (my wife... 😔) and James are dead. So Sirius is in Azkaban and Peter is "dead". Word Count: 2313 Credits: @saradika-graphics thank you for the divider! A/N: Let's pretend I didn't mean to post this yesterday... London was an actual nightmare to map out in my brain and I'm fully aware the title doesn't make total sense considering uptown and downtown is a mostly American concept but I figured it fit the context of the story. So for our sake, Remus will live in East London, closer to the Thames, and you, my dear Readers will live in West London, more North of the city. On a side note, fuck JKR and her disgusting beliefs. Also, to anyone struggling, whether it be personal life or political climate, I hope you're doing alright. Writing is my current escapism and I hope I can help someone else in the process. On another note, chapter 2 should be posted on the 28th! Chapters: 2

“When is that damned exterminator going to get here?” your father’s gruff voice was muffled by his handkerchief he held to his nose as he walked into the parlour.

“We should’ve just called the ministry,” the woman sat next to you snapped, her head sticking out of the window taking advantage of the fresh air, “No one would’ve ever cared about our little problem. But no, you had the brilliant idea to hire some random man you found in some pub.”

You brushed your damp hair, trying your best to ignore the foul stench emitting from beneath the floor, “There’s nothing small about our problem, so I’d much rather keep this discreet myself.”

You should’ve known better than to oppose your poor, dear mother, as she grasped her chest as if she couldn’t breathe, “Discreet! I don’t care how discreet we are dealing with this! This man will fail to help us, screw up and we will have to call the ministry anyways. Hell! He’s probably a fraud and planning to rob us. Do you have any idea how much worse that will be! People will think we are fools who can’t maintain our estate.”

You didn’t bother hiding the way you rolled your eyes as you glanced back out to the cloudy sky, which caused mother to rant about disrespect to the old man, now sitting in his recliner.

The fall wind was a welcome guest as you began to carefully style your hair, turning your attention to your faint reflection in the window. The bundimun infestation might have stalled the redecorating efforts of this old dirty hole of townhouse, but it was certainly not going to stop you from looking your best.

“It’s lucky Josephine is still in France. I'm beginning to doubt any amount of magic can revive this place.”

“Enough complaining,” your father cut in, as he casted another scouring charm in an attempt to lessen the smell, “We all know this isn't ideal, but you should be grateful we even found this estate for you considering your situation.”

You felt slightly annoyed as you finished your hair, frowning at him through the glass reflection. Your hand dropped dejectedly as you glanced back with a sigh. He was right, despite every one of your arrangements falling through due to the war, your parents had still managed to find you a respectable match, “I know, I know. I'm sorry. This is all just… I really miss him and this is all so frustrating.”

Your parents shared a look but remained silent. However, this didn’t last long as your mother suddenly stood up, “I feel like I might faint.”

Your father let out an exasperated sigh at her theatrics.

“I am sorry, dear, but I cannot do this anymore. You'll have to deal with the exterminator yourself, I'm going out for lunch with Y/N–”

Before your father could protest in annoyance, you interrupted, “Actually, I still need to finish my makeup, so you can go with Papa.”

They put very little effort into arguing and quickly vanished from the house. The silence would've been appreciated if it weren’t for the disturbing smell surrounding you and you found yourself tilting your head back as you leaned against the window sill. Even upside down, the townhouses that lined the street bored you, and you decided to stare at the sea of grey clouds slowly drifting across the sky instead.

You figured, much to your annoyance, that it would likely rain again today. Your attention snapped to the street when you heard the crunching of the colourful leaves beneath someone’s shoes. You flipped over to get a proper look of the man coming up the street and your interest peaked. He stood out against the pristine houses, his dark clothes seemingly worn from years of wear on his tall, though lanky figure, and he seemed handsome enough even from the second floor.

You quickly grabbed your wand and summoned your silk robe, slipping it over your nightgown. He must’ve been the man your father hired, and with that thought, you grabbed your perfume bottle to apply some.

By the time the doorbell rang, you had grabbed your lipstick and you carefully applied it as you looked at yourself in the mirror against the wall. The bell rang a second time and you sighed, quickly wiping off the colour that was out of place. You smoothen out your silk robe before heading to the front door, opening it and finding yourself faced with a man’s hand frozen midair, ready to knock.

“Oh, sorry,” your eyes snapped up to the face that spoke and you met the man’s slightly startled hazel eyes. He was taller than you expected when you saw him outside and his light brown hair was messy but still made him look rather charming. He seemed a few years older, likely in his mid or late 20s. But what truly caught your eyes were the scars scattered across his face, neck, hands. Any bit of skin you could see was littered with scars, “Hi, you hired pest control..?”

His deep voice snapped you out of your daze and you noted the faint Welsh accent as you stepped aside, opening the door wider for him, “Right… come in.”

The man took notice of your outfit and nonchalant demeanor, but remained professional as he followed you in. His expression remained steady despite the familiar pungent smell filling the house. He awkwardly adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Your father hadn’t told him the exact issue, only promising to pay him nicely, and Remus hadn’t exactly allowed himself the privilege of worrying about the oddity of the situation. However, you did notice his stance relaxed as he recognized the infestation he was handling, “Bundimuns?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct,” you sighed, looking back as you opened the door to the area where the test was the most prominent. You noted his slight hesitancy to walk in as he observed the half-decorated house, “Our house warming party is in a few days and we need this issue to be solved quickly so we can finish the renovations.”

“Right…,” Remus tried his best to hide his expression of confusion and disbelief as he stared at the loud rococo decor scattered around the room floor, “This seems like it would’ve been easier to report to the ministry.”

“Probably,” you agreed, making your way to the open balcony, “We’ll take our chances though. I’d rather only have one person know about this than deal with official records of the infestation.”

That dumbfounded the poor man, who had set his old messenger bag down on one of the uncovered powder blue sofas, but he wasn’t about to push for more answers. Rich purebloods were always preoccupied with reputation, he knew that very well.

You leaned against the cold, metal railing as you watched him dig through his bag for his notebook, “How long will it take you?”

His gaze met yours for a split second before going back to flipping through the yellowed pages, “It’ll take two or three hours. This is a pretty serious infestation and this building is a lot bigger than it seemed outside…”

It was clear he had questions but it didn’t seem like he was going to ask. You figured you’d explain the situation to prevent any rumours to spread (though you doubted his words would actually reach any important ears), “This house was built before the ban on extension charms for houses. We have ministry approval to keep it this way.”

Remus smiled a little apologetically, finding the page he was looking for, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. It really isn’t any of my business, so I wasn’t going to ask.”

His passiveness was mildly surprising but you brushed it off. It was nice not having to worry about him talking and clearly he needed the money, so you figured he'd stay quiet. You finally moved and sat at the table on the balcony as he began to read the most effective spells to get rid of the secretions and creatures.

It was fairly cold outside but you figured you should keep an eye on him, so to entertain yourself for the next few hours, you figured you’d write to your sister and friends back in France. You flicked your hawthorne wand, summoning your quill, paper and other supplies wordlessly.

The two of you worked on your separate tasks quietly, barely interacting for over an hour. You had lost interest in watching him as he cleaned the house out of the green menaces, using spells you had never heard off, and only headed back inside due to the charming British weather: Rain was always such a nuisance.

You carried your stack of letters with you as you walked back into the house. The smell, though still lingering, had mostly vanished from the house, which was a relief, “I'm going to be upstairs. I trust you won’t steal anything… Though I doubt he’d even be able to identify the actual valuable objects.”

The last part was mumbled in French under your breath but with the context, it was easy for the brunette to infer it was likely an insult. Remus watched you disappear to the third floor, “What?”

“Feel free to ask the house elves for help. They’re in the basement. They’ve been trying their best to deal with the acid,” with that, you shut your bedroom door, completely missing the man’s expression of disbelief and mild offense.

Another hour passed and Remus had done everything in his power to avoid you as he finished up the rest of the house. This would’ve worked wonders if he didn’t have to worry about getting rid of the last few bundimuns in the house, which conveniently were hidden behind the double doors leading to your room.

He sighed. He was never skilled in divination but something in his gut was telling that you were trouble, but he needed the money and he wasn’t about to half-ass his job because of some spoiled brat. So he knocked.

You opened the door and he immediately took note of your outfit change. You were no longer in your silk robe and nightgown, instead dressed in a simple but classy turtleneck and skirt, “I need to charm this room then I’m done…”

You hummed, letting him in as you walked back to your four poster bed, tying the stack of at least 15 letters together so that your owl could carry it. This gave Remus at least a few minutes of peace as he finished up, but it seemed you sensed he was about done as you spoke up, “You know, I know a potion maker in Saint-Brieuc, who is very skilled at Scar-Diminishing Serums.”

“I beg your pardon?” his Welsh accent seemed deeper now that you’d upset him. The unprompted comment caught the man off guard and he scoffed, unable to believe anyone could be this insensitive.

“I’ve used them a few times and they work wonders. Great way to boost confidence and better your appearance,” you paused, sensing he was upset, much to your confusion, “Don’t get me wrong, you’re fairly handsome, but I think it would definitely hel–”

He suddenly got up after casting one last spell, “I’m done.”

His voice, though composed, made it obvious he was pissed. You hesitated slightly, trying to figure out what you did as you followed him down to the first floor, “No need to be so upset, I was just trying to give you advice. Whatever beasts gave you those scars did nasty work–”

He interrupts, surprisingly calm for someone getting insulted every other line, “Well, I kindly reject it, thank you.”

He stopped in front of the front door, almost considering leaving without payment, not wanting anything from you. Before you could protest, he opened the door and your mother let out a yelp, not expecting to see the stranger.

“Oh! Remy, was it?” your father smiled, glad to see the exterminator.

“Remus.”

It finally occurred to you that you had never even introduced yourself or asked for his name.

“Right, right! You must’ve finished! Y/N, did you pay him yet? I left the galleons on the table in the office,” he kept rambling, walking past Remus and you to get the money. Your mother smiled nervously, looking at the man, who she had already predetermined as creepy and untrustworthy, and tried her best to maintain a polite demeanor.

Unfortunately for her, she did a terrible job and her expression visibly relaxed when your father came back to save her from the conversation, “Here’s the 10 Galleons we originally agreed upon, and I figured you could get an extra 5 for–”

“Actually the 10 will suffice,” Remus forced a smile. He wasn’t stupid. It was clear you and your family were hoping to buy his favor to avoid any bad mouthing, and he wasn’t going to do that. Hell, he didn’t even want to talk about you to anyone (not that he really had anyone left), but it was a matter of principle.

You parents were stumped. They had rarely, if ever, met someone so quick to deny their money, “Sir, we insist–”

Remus had stepped out, taking the 10 Galleons, cutting off your mother with a thigh smile, “Honestly, I’m good.”

Your father, in a desperate attempt to get some sort of upperhand spoke words that made your jaw drop, “Well then, please consider joining us for our Autumn Equinox party on the 22nd.”

Your mother’s expression mirrored yours and you knew they would argue about this later. Remus’s eyes met yours and something awoke in him, a slight sense of amusement he hadn’t felt since Hogwarts. He looked back at your father, adjusting his old bag on his shoulder, and smiled slightly, “I’ll think about it.”

#remus lupin x reader #young remus lupin #remus lupin #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #long fic #mauraders #fuck jkr

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roseareeh · 5 months ago

Note

I totally understand you I have been dealing with my depression this is and isn't good.

I hope you feel better soon.

I have few ideas for Eddie, feel free to ignore, and please don't put pressure on yourself to write your mental health is more important.

• Maybe they are best friends and ended up sleeping together and the reader got pregnant

• Or maybe Eddie is dating Dustin's older sister, and she got pregnant.

Like I said feel free to ignore.

And take care of yourself ❤️ you're a amazing person 😘

Teen Pregnancy Series | Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader

Notes: This took me a bit longer than expected, but your request helped a lot! I combined them a bit, I hope you enjoy!

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abortion, some medical stuff at the end but no blood, pregnancy

"Dustin, get out!", you screamed as your brother burst through the bathroom door. This wouldn't have been this terrible if it wasn't for one crucial fact;

The pregnancy test in your hand.

"(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing?!", he yelled back as you shoved him out and slammed the door shut. "Shut up!", you yelled through the door as he kept knocking. After locking the door, you finally got to take a good look at the test result: Positive. Fuck.

"(Y/N), please, I really need to pee! I won't tell mom!" The test slipped in the pocket of your sweatpants before opening the door and rushing into your room. As you sat on the bed and starred at the two lines, tears started streaming down your face. How could this happen? You were always careful.

And the worst part is, Eddie is the father. Your brothers role model.

The friendship between Eddie and you was no less than extremely physical. Every time you two hung out, which must've been at least three times a week, you two ended up sleeping together.

And how would you tell him? Eddie was your friend, he was been since you were a freshman and he was a sophomore, and you knew that he tends to freak out easily.

But the very worst part was that you started developing feelings for him a few months ago. Sleeping with him didn't exactly help with that, but you'd rather keep it as it is than loose him completely.

"(Y/N)?", your little brother said from behind your door. "Go away.", you replied while trying to cover your shaky voice. It didn't work. "(Y/N), come on. I know what's going on, you know I'm smart." And of course Dustin wouldn't back down either. With a sigh, you got up and opened the door to your room. "What?", you asked. Your brother walked in without asking and sat down on your bed. "Dustin, this isn't a therapy session, I'm just really-"

"Pregnant?", he said to finish your sentence. "I know what that looks like, don't try to lie." Why would he know that? "Are you okay?"

You closed the bedroom door and sat down next to him. "I'll be fine, Dusty. Don't worry." He picked up the pregnancy test from where you left it and looked at it again. "Are you keeping it?", Dustin continued. "Jesus, you always ask so many question.", you groaned as you laid down on your back. Your little brother did the same, so now both of you were watching your slightly flickering lamp.

"You know who's the dad?", he asked again after a bit. However, you remained quiet. "(Y/N), this is your brother. Who's the father, do you copy?", Dustin continued. "Dustin, this is your older sister. It doesn't matter, over.", you finally replied, to which he groaned and rolled onto his stomach. "Do you not know?!", your brother asked dramatically. "Do you really think that low of me?", you asked. "I know, but it's none of your business."

"I'm that babies uncle, I think it's all of my business."

"Dustin, get out.", you said in a stern tone. He knew better than to keep asking, so he got up and left.

"Love you, (Y/N).", your little brother said before leaving the room.

"Love you, too, Dustin.", you replied.

"With Eddie Munson!? What were you thinking!?", your mother yelled at you. Now that you had a sonogram and knew how far along you were the conversation with your mum was inevitable at this point. "It's not like I planned it...", you mumbled under tears. "Damn right you didn't! How can such a smart girl make such a dumb mistake!?", she continued screaming. Neither of you knew that Dustin was listening from the top of the stairwell. "Mom, please stop...", you whimpered, still crying. Eddie still didn't know about the life growing inside you, and you honestly didn't want to. How would he react? He's been held back twice and sells drugs for extra money. As much as you didn't want to admit it, he isn't exactly father material. "Do you really expect him to be a good and reliable father?", she asked. While her tone was still loud, at least the screaming stopped. "I don't know..." Your mother sat down next to you while you replied in a mumbled tone. "Well, when you get an abortion, I don't mind paying part of it.", she said. You looked at her with a look of disbelief. "When I get an abortion?", you asked.

"Do you actually want to keep it?", she asked.

"Yes mom, I'm keeping it."

As she took a breath in to reply, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it.", you mumbled while getting up and walking away from the kitchen table. Behind the door stood Eddie with a slightly worried look. "Hey.", he said. "Your, uh, coworker said you're sick so I got you ginger ale." Eddie handed you the white plastic bag he held in his hand. "Thanks.", you replied with a small smile as you took the bag from his hand.

"Is that Eddie?", your mother asked as she walked up from behind. "Mom, not now.", you said while looking over your shoulder. "Oh no, by all means. I'd really like some answers!" She huddled him in, while he just looked confused. "Mom, stop-", you continued, but she didn't stop. "How do you plan on caring for a child?!" was the only thing she said before you finally raised your voice. "I haven't told him!", you yelled at your mom. The whole room fell silent, with Eddie looking back and forth between you and your mother. You could clearly see how he pieced together the two sentences that have just been said.

"You're pregnant?", he finally asked. You nodded reluctantly. Finally, your mother read the room and left you two alone.

"I'm at four weeks.", you told him. The silence in the room was oddly loud as both of you just looked at each other.

"So...what are you gonna do?", he finally asked. Your hand went on your stomach instinctively, which was what confirmed your initial decision. "I'm keeping it. And there's nothing that can make me change my mind." A small smile played on his lips before he took your free hand in his. "Good. There's...nobody I'd rather have an unplanned child with." You raised an eyebrow at his words. "One might say you're flirting with me, Mr. Munson." He laughed a bit at your words. "Maybe I am.", he replied.

"Come on, let's talk upstairs.", you said as you walked him in. Truth be told, this was the first time you had him in your room. "Leave the door open!", your mother yelled from the living room.

"He can't get me double-pregnant!", you yelled back.

"I think it's a boy.", you said while braiding small strands of Eddies hair. He had his head on your chest and one hand on your stomach while both of you laid in your bed. It made you wonder; friends don't lay together like this. Not even if they have benefits. "You know I won't care what it is, but I really want a girl." You smiled a bit at his wish while imagining him with a little mini-him. Eddie moved his head so he was looking up at you, with which he ruined the tiny braid you were working on. "I haven't asked you to...well, uh..." You smiled, hoping he was going to ask you what you so desperately wanted to hear. "You put a baby in me, I don't think there's any uncomfortable questions." He laughed a bit before sitting upright, and you did the same. Luckily, there was barely a bump yet that could get in your way. "Well, I really like spending time with you. A lot, actually. And I had feelings for you for a while before, well, all this." A small laugh left your mouth. "I'm not good at this, don't laugh!", Eddie complained.

"I'm laughing because I feel the same and didn't know how to tell you.", you admitted. Now he smiled while pulling you into a hug. "Good. Because anything else would've made this awkward." You snuggled into his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. His body was so warm, so comforting that you can see yourself like this every night for the rest of your life. "I got a 2-in-1 deal then, huh?", you joked after a bit while looking up. Eddie, however, looked a bit confused. "A boyfriend and a baby at the same time.", you added. A stiffled laugh left his mouth. "You're corny, (Y/N).", he said while laying back again with you in his arms.

"It's only getting worse from here.", you replied.

"So, everything looks fine for 12 weeks.", your OBGYN said as she looked at the ultrasound. Eddie was sitting next to you, closely looking at the screen that showed your baby. "Oh...wait...", she then said. Both you and Eddie shared a look before you spoke up: "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, but it looks like there's two babies."

Your eyes went wide while trying to see another baby on the screen. But there it was, very visible next to their sibling. "We're having twins?", Eddie asked, just to be sure. "Yes, I can definetly tell you that. See, there's baby one." She pointed at the first baby. "And there's baby two." Then at the other.

Both if you were quiet until you got into his van. But your boyfriend kept looking at the sonogram he held tightly between two fingers. "Twins, huh.", he finally said after shutting the cardoor behind him. "That's a curveball." You looked over at him with a worried look, but he was grinning. "Two babies at the same time, with my girlfriend? That's more than I could've ever asked for." The grin on his face was wide, more than you ever expected. Your hand found his, but his gaze never left the sonogram. "What if you get your boy and I get my girl?" You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I bet we will."

"If we have a girl, can we name her Lizzie?" He finally looked at you with sparkling eyes. "Why Lizzie?", you asked. It was then that Eddie realized that he never really told you about his family or his upbringing. "My mother, well...her name was Elizabeth. My father always called her Liz. I'll tell you more when we're home, but I thought maybe Lizzie would be a good name to memorise her." You ran your thumb over the back of his hand while listening to his explanation.

"Lizzie is a beautiful name.", you said. "Maybe, if we have a boy, we can name him Wayne?"

Eddie leaned over to kiss you. "You're even more perfect than I could've ever imagined."

"Steve, really, I can handle it.", you said while carrying three movies in your hands. Ever since your coworker Steve found out that you were pregnant, he was extremely careful around you. "Tell me if you need help.", he said watching you walk around the aisles of the video store. "I even got a little shelf to hold them, don't worry." In an attempt to make him laugh, you balanced the boxes on your 22-week pregnancy belly. "Now that's an advantage.", Robin commented with a laugh. She leaned against the shelf right next to you. "So, you got the genders yet?"

"Not yet. They just won't lay right." She laughed a bit at your words. "Still can't believe you're gonna be a mom.", Robin said with a small smile. The moment was ruined with Steve starting to talk. "And with Eddie Munson out of all people." Both you and Robin looked over at him from behind the shelves. "Choose your next words wisely, he's still my boyfriend." You put away the last VHS box before walking back to the counter. While you logged the movies in the computer as returned, Steve stood next to you. "I'm just saying, it's a bit surprising." Robin joined the both of you behind the counter while pulling up a stool for you to sit on. You thanked her before sitting down. "I think Steve is hitting on you.", she joked with her signature grin. He put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "Why would date someone who's pregnant?"

"So you wouldn't date moms?", you teased.

"What? No, I mean- You're in a relationship and pregnant, that's immoral."

"I think he doesn't want to date moms.", Robin whispered to you.

"I would date moms, just not (Y/N).", Steve continued to defend himself. Robin and you shared a look, knowing that he fell for your teasing again. "You're messing with me again, aren't you?" Robin and you started laughing at his realisation. He scoffed before going into the back, presumable to get more returned movies, while you kept typing on the computer.

You looked up once you heard the bell from the entrance door ring, which meant a customer walked in. Said customer was your boyfriend Eddie. "Hey there.", you said with a grin before kissing him on the lips. "How's my favourite girl?", he asked with a grin. "Better now.", you replied while walking around the counter. "Schools already over?"

"Yeah, the last two classes were cancelled because they couldn't find a sub. I was gonna ask you if we wanna have a movie night later so I can buy food for us." A wide grin spread on your face at his suggestion. "I'd like that very much. What movie?" Your boyfriend said his thoughts out loud. "You don't really like horror right now, so maybe we can agree on Scarface?" Robin walked up behind him to grab the movies Steve brought back out. "Isn't the first rule of having a pregnant girlfriend to do anything she wants?", she commented while walking by. Eddie looked at her a bit dumbfounded before looking back at you. "Lucky you, I like Scarface so it's fine." Your boyfriend held you by your hips while pulling you closer, although the bump was getting in the way. "Read my mind, didn't you?", he said with a grin. As he leaned in for a kiss, you could feel one of the babies kicking. They started doing that this week, and it was honestly still a bit weird. At the same time, you loved to feel the little lives growing inside of you. And when Eddie was close to you like this, he could feel them too. "I'm just glad they stopped kicking my bladder. Although their sibling might be planning that right now." Both of you laughed a bit before Eddie leaned in for another kiss. "Are they kicking?", Robin interrupted excitedly. You and your boyfriend broke the kiss to look at her. "You promised I could touch your belly if they do!", your friend and coworker continued. With a raised eyebrow, Eddie looked over at you. "I did promise that.", you confirmed before turning sideways from your boyfriend. There was a childlike look on Robins face when she felt the babies kick against your stomach. Meanwhile, Eddie watched the smile grow on your face, and he realized how lucky he was to have you. The pregnancy was everything else but planned, yet he has never felt as happy as he did now.

"With any luck, we'll find our the genders in two weeks.", you said, which pulled Eddie out of his train of thoughts. "Dustin keeps bugging me about it, more than them." You gave a small nod in the direction of Steve and Robin.

"Did they tell you?", Dustin immediately asked as you walked through the front door. He came out of nowhere and scared you a bit. "Fuckin' hell Dustin, you'll get me into early labour like that.", you said. Eddie was trotting behind you with an idiotic grin on his face. That's all Dustin needed to see to know that you finally found out. "Sorry.", he still said in a truly regretful tone. Dustin even helped you get out of your jacket and took your bag from you. "Alright. We're having one boy and one girl." The look of excitement on his face was unmatched. Barely anything ever made him as happy as what you just told him. "And in an added plottwist, you can go and look for something in my bag." He was still grinning like an idiot while looking through your bag. Between papers from your doctor, your sunglasses and lip balm, he found a trucker cap that read 'Favorite Uncle'. "No way!", he said loudly with a wide grin. "(Y/N), no way!", he continued. "Yes way, Dustin.", you said before he jumped into your arms for a big hug. "We know you'll be a great uncle." He was still grinning like a cheshire cat by the time he let you go and immediately switch the cap currently on his head for the new one.

The next few months were an absolute dream. Eddie was attentive and took the best care of you, despite still being in school. His grades got better, and as far as you knew he stopped dealing. While the living situation with a baby would be hard at your moms with Eddie there too, it didn't matter that much. He promised to get a job as soon as he graduated.

However, it all came crumbling down when the police knocked at your door one morning. "(Y/N) Henderson?", the officer asked. "That's me. Did something happen?" You saw what was going on in Hawkins on the TV just half an hour ago, and it made you worry. Dustin left right after, so your first thought was that something happened to him. "May we come in? It would be best to sit down for this." You let the two officers in and walked behind them, although even walking was hard for you now. The twins were at 35 weeks now, and you were about ready to pop any day. The three of you sat down at the dinner table while you felt the anxiety raise in you. "What's going on?", you asked them while trying to find a comfortable sitting position. "Your boyfriend is Edward Munson, correct?", the officer started. This made a cold shiver run down your spine. "Yeah, he is. Did something happen to him?"

"He is our main suspect in a murder case.", he simply stated. Unexpectedly, you started laughing. "Wow, that's just...that's peak comedy.", you said under laughter. "Eddie wouldn't hurt a fly, even though he acts like it." But neither one of the officers laughed, or even seemed to appreciate your laughter. "This isn't a joke, Ms. Henderson. We're currently looking for him and need you to tell us his location." This was actually unbelievable to you. "I don't know where he is. He told me he'll go to his uncles after school, and then never came back. I can't tell you more." They were quiet for a bit before speaking again. "Unfortunately, we have reason to believe what you could be possibly hiding him so we'll have to search your house." Once again, you laughed. "This isn't my house, it's my mother's. And I'm not letting you search anything without a warrant." They knew that it was no use to continue talking to you right now, so they left eventually. You still couldn't believe that Eddie was actually the main suspect in a murder case. He would never hurt anyone, especially not now that you could be giving birth any day.

Who else could know where he was?

"Oh god, Eddie!", you said as you fell into his arms. He was fine, but far away from safe. "Are you okay? And the babies?", he asked you while hugging you back. Usually, he was carefully since it was the end of your pregnancy. But right now he held onto you like you were his lifeline. "We're okay. Just scared." Your hands cupped his face before finally kissing him. Now, more than ever, it felt like home. "I swear, I didn't do anything, I promise.", Eddie said, close to tears. Your thumbs ran across his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him. "I know. We'll figure this out, you'll come home and then we can have the happy family we wanted. Okay?" He nodded at your words before hugging you again.

"How many fucking times, he wouldn't do that!", you yelled towards the other parents, including your own mother, while they argued about where the kids could be. "I know this is hard to believe in your circumstances, but-" You scoffed at your mother's words. "My circumstances? Really?", you said in a mocking tone. "I'm carrying your grandkids and you call that a circumstance. Mother of the fucking year." You leaned back on the couch you were sitting on while crossing your arms in front of your chest. "Is everyone here actually dumb enough to not realise how easy it is to break into someones trailer? It could've been anyone!" Most gave you a look of pity, possibly because they thought you were just a pregnant girl who didn't want to admit to her baby daddy's mistakes. "Honey, I get that you're upset but all signs are pointing to him. And now your brother is missing, too." You rolled your eyes already when Mrs. Wheeler called you Honey. "All of you are judgy assholes.", you said while getting up and wanting to leave. As you were grabbing your bag in the hallway, water trickled down your legs. "Oh no. No, no, no.", you said while looking down. Your water undoubtedly broke. "Mom!" She came into the hallway quickly, seeing the state you were in she didn't even need to ask questions. "I'll drive you to the hospital, come on.", she said. Mrs. Sinclair helped you get outside into your mother's car while she was looking for her keys in a hurry. "You'll be fine, it's gonna be okay.", she said in an attempt to calm you down.

You were going into labour, your brother was missing and your boyfriend was wanted for murder.

For weeks, you and your babies have sat besides Eddie's hospital bed. He was greatly injured during the earthquake and barely made it, causing him to fall into a coma. Nobody could tell you when or if he'd ever wake up from it, so there was nothing you could do besides staying by his side. Your twins, Lizzy and Wayne, were extremely calm when the three of you sat beside him. Whenever you were home with them, they couldn't stop crying. It's like they knew their father wasn't with them. "Please wake up...", you whispered while holding his hand. It was horrific to see him connected to so many tubes and machines. At least the police stopped claiming him as a suspect, since the kids said he wasn't there when they found the two other corpses. You don't know if they lied or not, but that really didn't matter right now. On a good note, your house wasn't destroyed during the earthquake. If anything, you could give your kids a roof over their head.

Weeks passed. The twins were eight weeks old when you got a call one morning. Eddie woke up again. Immediately, you packed up the twins and drove to the hospital. They kept crying until the very moment you opened the door to Eddies hospital room. He slowly turned his head and saw you with the stroller in front of you. His face looked sunken in, like he was awake for weeks on end. "Hey, it's (Y/N).", you said with a smile as you came in. Eddie still managed to give you a small smile. "I know my girlfriend.", he mumbled in a raspy voice. You pushed the stroller to his bed and parked it right next to him, giving him perfect view of your twins. They were the first people he took a proper look at before looking back at you. "They're perfect.", he mumbled. You smiled and pushed up a chair to sit down. "Dustin and I took many pictures for you, so you wouldn't miss anything." Lizzie was slowly waking up and opened her eyes, just to finally meet the opened eyes of her father. "Hey Liz, look who's here.", you cooed at her while picking her up. "I can feel my arms. Can I..." Without him needing to day anything further, you put her on his chest. "Don't overdo it. They're quite heavy.", you joked while watching him stroke her back with his hands. "She's a clunker.", he agreed. While he was holding your daughter, you stroked his hair carefully. "I missed you, honey.", you said in a hushed tone. He looked up at you with those eyes you missed so much. "I'm here now. I won't leave you like that again."

"Yeah, you better.", you giggled

"Why do they have to be so much like you?", you complained while crashing into your bed. It took both of you almost an hour to just get your 3-year olds ready for bed, putting them down took almost more than that. "God, I hope the next one comes after me." Eddie chuckled and pulled you close to him, putting his hand on your 6-month baby belly. It was the perfect angle to see his wedding ring in the dim bedroom lighting. "I think you're forgetting that they're Hendersons. Look at how your brother turned out." As much as you loved your brother, you didn't need a second one at home. "I just want one quiet one at least.", you mumbled sleepily. "Then we'll just make many more.", Eddie said with a sly grin. You chuckled a bit while cuddling up to him. "I'll have as many as we can with you.", you said before a soft knock interrupted the two if you. The twins stood in the doorway. "Can we sleep here?", Wayne whispered. "Sure, get in here.", Eddie said before helping both into your bed. As hyper as they are, both were calmest while cuddling with their parents. While Lizzie laid next to his father, Wayne was cuddled up to you and fell asleep again rather quickly. Lizzie snorred soon after as well.

"We have great kids.", Eddie said after a while. You hummed in agreement.

"They're pretty amazing."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine

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cinnamoonblue · 4 days ago

Text

Chapter XI | Ghost in the Shell

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP this story will contain descriptions of violence, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, explicit language, use of alcohol, use of cannabis, use of nicotine/cigarettes, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, implied injury, family trauma, slow burn, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, NSFW, conflicted feelings, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, violence, substance use, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, mentions of loosing a loved one, mentions of violence, PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS

Word Count: 9,1K

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NOTE: I'm extremely sorry about how short this chapter is and how long it took me to put it out. Fosr some reason it was really hard for me to write this one. Anyway - a lot of angst, and depression, and hurt in this chapter. Also I struggled a lot naming this chapter. More yapping in the end note. Enjoy ♡

Sunsets – don’t we all love them? The sky painted in beautiful colors despite what season it was. Despite how bad your day was you could always look up at the sky and be like – “My day was bad, but the sunset is beautiful. This bad day is over.” And that was why I had always found sunsets to be quite mournful. The day was over. No matter if it was the happiest or the saddest day of your life, this day would never happen again. It happened once. Whatever had happened that day it would never happen again; it would never undo itself and the mistakes you made. The mistakes I made.

Sitting next to my father with a heavy heart in my chest, we both hadn’t said much. We haven’t said anything at all. Today we buried my mother, or should I say cremated. He hasn’t put down the black ceramic urn down for even a second. I had never seen him being so … heartbroken. Not even when she left us. Now it seemed like the lively spirit he had, has left his eyes and now they seemed so lifeless.

Mourning someone you never knew was a strange feeling. What exactly were you mourning for?

I never knew my mother. All the memories I could recall with her are from before my knees develop, let alone my brain. The only vivid memories I had from her were her absence in my life. So again – what wa there for me to mourn for?

Her love? Her caring persona? The affection she gave me? The time spent with her? What was it for me to mourn her for? I never got the chance to know her. She never got the chance to get to know me.

I never gave her the chance to get to know me.

Maybe this was what I was mourning right now? The what if…

What if I hadn’t reacted the way I did three days ago? What if I gave her the chance to explain herself. What if it wasn’t too late for us?

I couldn’t stop asking myself those questions. I couldn’t stop blaming myself. I couldn’t stop feeling like I was the one who killed her, not her addiction, not her life choices – but me.

Every time I took a glance at my father and the sorrow crossing over his entire face and body, I felt like I was the one shooting whatever substance she shot in her veins that night. I felt like I was the one who injected her with her death.

The guilt was eating me alive.

“Dad…” I whispered with a trembling voice trying to catch his attention. I didn’t expect him to pay any attention to me. He was far too lost in his own mind.

Looking at him broke my heart. The lack of sleep for the past few days was visible on his face as the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger and darker. His eyes were red and puffy from all the tears he cried and was still holding. The black suit he was wearing was still neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle on it with only the tie around his neck loose.

I wondered what was going on in his head right now; what was he thinking about – was he blaming me? He should be, isn’t he? Part of me wanted him to blame be. Part of me wanted him to point his anger or sadness or whatever he was feeling right now towards me and yell at me – “You killed her.” This would ease my pain and guilty consciousness.

My phone vibrated in the small purse I was carrying with me. Pulling the phone out of it, I read the message from Shanks asking when to pick me up. We both knew that my father would need some time alone, to process his own grief, but I didn’t want to leave him alone.

Clearing my throat, I turned to him again. “Dad, Shanks asks when to pick me up. Do you want me to stay with you a bit longer or…” I couldn’t finish the sentence because I was sure of the response. I could feel that he wanted me to go away, but there was no response. Again.

“Dad, please.” The grip around my phone was getting stronger as I tried to hold myself and my emotions grounded. Tears were slowly building up in my eyes, ready to fall if I let them. This silence was the worst punishment I have ever received from him. “Speak with me. Yell, scream, get angry whatever just please don’t go all silent.” I begged.

With a deep exhale he finally turned his head towards me and with a small shrug and smile, which didn’t even fully reach the corner of his mouth, he finally spoke up. “There is nothing to say or scream about, baby girl. You tell Shanks to pick you up.” Turning his attention back to the scenery in front of him he didn’t say anything more.

Biting the inside of my cheeks, I just nodded. There was no point pushing for more, he wouldn’t speak up, which only meant that he was in a great deal of pain and sorrow, one I couldn’t understand, but I must respect.

I sent Shanks a quick message, telling him to pick me up now to which he responded that he will be here in less than twenty minutes. Until then, my father and I spent the time in silence, until I broke it. “I understand if you blame me for it… I blame myself.” Getting up from the bench I look at him one last time before I leave. “But please, dad… don’t shut me off.”

“I just need to grief that’s all (Y/N).” He tells me, his voice is tired and low. “Don’t make Shanks wait for you. Go kid.”

Nodding I turned around without saying anything and made my way to where I knew Shanks was waiting for me. It took me less than a five minutes’ walk to spot his red jeep parked on the side way.

“Hey, Shanks.” I greeted him as I opened the door and took a seat on the passenger side.

“Hey, Foxy.” He said back, reaching with his hand and ruffling my hair. “You doin’ alright, kid?”

Humming in response as I buckled myself up with the seatbelt I nodded. “Yea, I’m fine.”

“How’s your dad?” He asked, without looking at me, his eyes focused on the road.

“He is… managing… I guess…” I was not sure how to answer this question, and neither would my father if someone asked him. “It was only us two, you know.”

My father and I were the only people who attended the funeral, if I may call it this. I wasn’t sure if he had contacted any of her friends or family. I knew I had some relatives from her side, but I have never met them. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if she had any friends in the first place. What was this woman’s life like? I had so many questions, yet none of them would be answered now as it was too late for me to ask them. Maybe someday when my father found it within himself to forgive me, I would ask him.

“Not surprised.” Shanks chuckled. “She should be grateful that even you two showed up.”

“Yea… you’re right.” I knew that Shanks was right, but that gut feeling in me that was eating me alive with guilt was telling me that he was too harsh, and in fact, if I was more forgiving, the past three days would have never happened. “How’s Natasha? Haven’t seen her in a while.” I changed the subject.

If I was to tell Shanks how I felt and the thoughts I had in my mind about my mother and her death, he would immediately comfort me, but I wasn’t looking for comfort. I was looking for a punishment. I was looking for someone who would be honest with me and tell me – “Yes, it is your fault. You killed her.”

That was why changing the subject seemed like the best option right now.

Some weeks had passed since the funeral. Life since then has been at a very fast peace. I have joined every possible project in school, I even ended up on Dave’s movie set as a set designer, and we started reconnecting slowly, but nothing like before, it was all very professional, and movie related.

Every shift or help Shanks needed for the bar I was there to help. Even if it was a last-minute call I would still go. I would do everything not to be left alone with my own thoughts.

My sleep was barely on the schedule. I was not sure if it was because of all the caffeine, I have been consuming like crazy lately, or all the nightmares I have been having every time I close my eyes. I have lost count of how many times I had woken up with screams or my body paralyzed with only my mind being conscious. The worst and most recent case always being the one when I hallucinate about her standing in the corner of my room. She just stood there without saying a word, her body lifeless, but eyes full of blame like they were screaming at me – “Why did you kill me?”

That was why, at best, I could do no more than four to five hours of sleep, and these were only very rare and lucky occasions. For me this was manageable, all I needed was coffee or an energy drink in quite a big and unhealthy amount, but they helped me to go through my days.

Unlike usual this time I surround myself with people. Silence and loneliness would kill me. You want to grab coffee with me? Sure, let’s go. You want help with your project but it’s going to take the whole day and probably night? Please, count me in. You want to go clubbing? Hell yeah.

I couldn’t remember the last time I said no to someone. I would do anything just to not be alone, because I was drowning, but I couldn’t scream for help. I was consumed by so much guilt and regret, and I felt no need for redemption for myself. I deserved this. Whatever it was I deserved it, so I let it consume me.

This new me wasn’t me at all. Looking at the mirror every morning and night I couldn’t recognize the face I was seeing in it. I was aware that it was me, but it didn’t feel like me. I felt like a ghost in a shell. A spirit trapped in a body which I cannot escape.

I could see some people liking the ‘new’ me – always down for whatever, very open up and happy. Who wouldn’t love such a chill spontaneous person? But there were people like Shanks, Kid, Nami and Usopp in my life who were constantly nagging me with questions about how I was doing and that I should take it easy. Especially Shanks.

Right now, I was stuck with him in his office. He had noticed for some time now the sudden weight drops, and constant drinking of energy drinks drank by me while I was working.

“Shanks, I’m not hungry.” I whined as he refused to let me go until I finished the meal in front of me.

“Foxy, I’m not having this conversation with you again.” He replied without looking at me, focusing on some paperwork he must finish today. “Plus, Natasha made it for you.”

“Don’t used her against me.” I rolled my eyes, pushing the plate away. “I ate some and I’m full, now could I please go to work?”

“It’s quiet right now, no need of you at the bar.”

“Shanks, I’m not five.” Leaning on the chair with a groan, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Then stop acting like you are.” He said putting the documents aside. “Foxy, I’m really concern about you.” Sighing he placed his elbows on the desk and leaned on it. “Your dad’s also worried.”

Hearing this I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, bet. That’s why he hasn’t called me in a month or so.”

“I’m not justifying him, but…” Trying to find the right words Shanks obviously struggled how to continue without taking sides. “He had a very strange relationship with your mother and for some reason he never stopped loving this woman, so he is having a really hard time right now.”

I decided not to say anything. What was the point anyway? Everyone was sympathizing with him and excusing his behavior, and so did I, but this didn’t change the fact that he was barely speaking with me, and if we did it was only through messages.

“Just please, eat a bit more and then you can go.” Shanks told me as he was getting up and leaving the office.

Looking at the plate sitting in front of me I sighed. I barely felt any hunger nowadays. I barely felt like myself lately, and the last thing on my mind was putting something in my stomach. Pushing myself into taking a few more bites from the food I put it aside and left the office.

It shouldn’t be a busy night tonight, after all it was Thursday a week before most people get their salaries. It is just me and Kid working tonight, and hopefully Shanks would leave soon.

Nothing interesting was happening during the shift. It was mostly me and Kid chitchatting, with customers coming from time to time. Around eleven we got some more people walking in, mostly college students my age spending their last money on some cheap beer.

At some point I opened another energy drink, and of course if not Shanks, Kid was going to make a comment about it. “Your heart is ‘bout to explode soon if you don’t stop them drinks.”

I rolled my eyes at him while taking a big sip of the drink. Putting it down I gave him a mocking smile. “Kid, I must inform you, that life is not so generous to me and I have a lot more to suffer before it ends me.”

“By the looks of it, you don’t have much left.” He chuckled. “You need to change this thing you girls put under your eyes because it isn’t helping much.” He said pointing a finger at my face.

“It’s called concealer. I need to tell Victoria, to teach you better about makeup Kid.” I teased him about his girlfriend, making him blush a bit. Every time I mentioned her name his whole face changed, getting all flustered and uncomfortable like a little boy.

I couldn’t help but continue to tease him about Victoria. Who would of believe that it took one girl to turn a grumpy man into such a sunshine.

Our little game was cut short as one girl came to the bar and told us that the toilet paper was finished. “Women’s toilet is your problem.” Kid laughed at me as he threw the key for the toilet paper holders at me to catch.

Walking to the storage and then the girl’s restroom inside there were two girls. Obviously, friends but very different. One of them had a more edgy style while the other was like she just came out of the Barbie movie. They both froze when they saw me entering the toilets and at first, I didn’t pay them any attention despite their attitude being weird, but when I got out all three of us froze on the spot.

My eyes were moving between them and the little transparent bag full of white dust which didn’t take me long to figure out that it was.

The girl who looked like a Barbie sniffed and wiped her nose before she spoke up. “Please, don’t tell anyone.” Her voice was filled with panic.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Her friend jumped in quickly before she turned around to grab the little bag and shoved it into her purse.

I was still frozen and didn’t know how to response or what to do. Was I supposed to get out and let Kid and Shanks know? Yes, I was. But I couldn’t. Something made me completely stunned in this situation to a point where I could feel my heartbeat fastening.

“Hey, are you okay?” The Barbie girl, if I may call her this, took a few steps towards me. Despite what she had taken, she seemed genuinely concerned.

Before she could reach my shoulder and touch me, I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of this state. “I’m fine.” I murmured, taking a step back and looking away from them.

“Please, don’t snitch on us.” The edgy girl also came closer to me and her friend. “Plus, we’re leaving soon.”

“I-I won’t.” I quietly said before I cleared my throat and passed by them, leaving the toilets.

Getting behind the bar, Kid gave a questioning look. “Don’t ask.” I told him before grabbing and opening another energy drink.

“Okay, that is enough.” He said reaching out and snatching the can out of my hands.

“Kid, what the fuck?” I yelled at him, irritated by his action. “What was that for?”

“This was going to be your fourth one for the night!” He shouted back, his brows frowning, irritation and anger written all over his face. “Even a man my size can’t take that much caffein.”

“I’ve seen you drinking more.” I snorted, rolling my eyes at him I turned around to reach for another one, but he was quick to stop me.

“Yo brat, that’s enough!” Now he was mad. It usually won’t take long to get Kid pissed off, he was like a tickling bomb, one wrong pushed button and he was ready to explode. “Go pick some glasses from the tables.”

“You go and do that.” I spat at him as I left the bar and stormed off to the back entrance.

Shutting the door behind me, I grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled it as I leaned on the wall behind me. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. My heart was beating fast, and the air was barely feeling my lungs.

“Not now. Please, not now.” I spoke to myself as I looked up at the night sky, trying to calm myself.

This has been happening quite a lot recently. I wouldn’t call them panic attacks more like anxiety ones, but some were heavier than the others. But right now, this was the last thing I needed.

I wasn’t sure what triggered it - my little argument with Kid or the girls in the restroom taking drugs, or both. Probably both.

Parting my lips I took big and deep inhales and exhales. It took me some time to calm myself and to be able to feel air normally getting to my lungs. I gave myself some more time before I went back inside.

Walking behind the bar, Kid grunted at me. “You cool off, brat?”

“Fuck off, Kid.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Did Shanks leave?” Kneeling to hide myself from customers, I reached for my phone, which I had left to charge, to check what time it was. It was almost midnight.

“Nah, he is still here.” Kid said nodding at where Shanks was. “The Monkey head’s here, too.”

Hearing Luffy’s nickname I immediately got up on my feet to see if Kid was messing with me. He wasn’t. Luffy was in fact here, and he and Shanks were chitchatting close to the stairs entrance.

“Also, Shanks said you can clock out.”

I looked back at Kid and nodded. “Sure. Bye, asshole.” I told him, leaving the bar and going to the storage/changing room downstairs to gather my things. In response, Kid just laughed at me.

Getting my bag with me I realized I left my phone at the bar and sighed annoyed. Going back upstairs I told Kid to hand it to me, but at that same time the two girls from the toilet came to me, apparently, they haven’t left yet.

“Hey, thank you for not outing us.” Said the more edgy styled girl.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged, not sure what else to tell them.

“We’re heading to this underground club now.” Her friend, the one dressed like she was a Barbie, handed me a little card with the club’s name on it. I had never heard of it before, giving her a weird look as it also said on the card that it was a ‘special’ invitation. “You can’t go in if you don’t have invitation like this one.” She explained after seeing my confused expression.

“Yea, you should totally join us.” The edgy girl agreed with her friend. “You seem cool.”

“Thank you, girls but I think I’ll pass.” Giving them a small smile I handed back the card, but they brushed me off.

“Keep it.” Said the Barbie. “You might change your mind and join us later.” She winked at me taking her friends arm in hers.

“See you there.” Both of them said at the same time and left.

I turned to Kid and showed him the card. “You know this place?”

Snatching the card from my fingers his brows frowned as he read the card. “Yea, I do. Only people on hard drugs and freaky kinks go there.” He handed it back and turned away.

This was the last thing I expected to hear. Not my kind of place. Or people, by what I have been just told. “I got invited there. Maybe I should try it sometimes.”

Slowly turning around, Kid gave a look of disbelief. “No, seriously what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing?” The look of confusion written all over my face. “I just said maybe I’ll check it out.”

“Did you go deaf or plain stupid?” Kid was barely holding up his anger, considering Shanks being close by and the customers around.

“Oh my, Kid you’re such an asshole. God forbit a girl wants to try something new.” I yelled back at him and as he was about to scream back at me, not caring about the surroundings, but we got interrupted by a very loud and bright voice.

“(Y/N)!” Luffy yelled, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. “Haven’t seen you since Sanji’s birthday. How you’ve been? Is Jaggy here bothering you?”

“Hi Luffy.” I return his hug. “When he isn’t?” Rolling my eyes I shot a deadly look at Kid, making him grunt and turn away from us. “What brings you here?”

With his bright and big smile always on Luffy started rambling. “Shanks found me some job for the summer, and I came to speak with him about it. What you been up to? You doin’ alright?”

“All good. The usual, you know how it is.” Shrugging, I gave him a small smile.

“Ah, filmmakers.” Luffy playfully rolled his eyes and poked me on the side, making me giggle. “But seriously, you doing good?”

Giggling a bit confused, I raised my brow at him. “Yes, Luffy, I’m. Why? Do I look bad or something?”

“No, no… just you look a bit tired.” He didn’t sound convincing at all, but I let it pass.

“Are you leaving? Wanna walk together?” Pointing with my thumb behind me to the stair entrance waiting for his response.

“Yea, but I must wait for Shanks for a bit, if you’re not in a hurry you can wait for me.” I almost agreed until hearing what came next from Luffy’s mouth. “Plus, Ace is giving me a ride home, so we can drop you off as well.”

Ace… I would be lying if I said that I had forgotten about him. Definitely, over him at this point, but still crossing my mind from time to time. Sometimes more than I would like to. My heart still skipped a beat by just hearing his name. The thought of him possibly being outside immediately crossed my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Luffy if he was already here waiting for him.

“No, it’s fine Luffy. I��m kind of in a hurry.” I chuckled. “But see you around, yeah?” I hugged him one more time.

“We need to hang out more.” He told me, pulling always from the hug.

I agreed with him before I turned and made my way to the exit. As I made it to the stairs someone grabbed my hand and pulled me. I wasn’t surprised to see Kid and his grumpy face.

“What now?” Pulling my hand away from his, I crossed my hands in front of my chest.

“I’m serious, brat.” The tone in his voice was both warning and caring. “Don’t go to that place.”

Sighing I just nodded, mostly because I wanted him to leave me alone. “No need to worry, Kid.” I didn’t say anything more and left.

With every step I was taking my heartbeat was increasing. I haven’t forgotten what Luffy had told me. There was a fifty-fifty chance that his brother might be already outside. As much as I was over him, I was still not sure if I could face him.

Stopping at the top of the stairs I took a deep breath in before stepping outside.

Ace’s patience was wearing thin. He wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting for his brother, but he was sure it had been almost thirty minutes at this point.

They were having a “brothers” night at Sabo’s place, until Shanks had called Luffy and asked him to come to his bar. Sabo was too tired to drive so Ace had no choice but to drive his little brother, who had failed his driving test three times already, and was relying on public transport or his friends’ generosity to get to places.

Ace’s motorbike was left at the service therefore he had to take Sabo’s car, which he really didn’t want to drive. That night, from months ago, was still hunting him every time he saw his brother’s car.

Lighting his second cigarette, he leans on the side of the car. Looking up at the night sky as he exhaled the smoke that filled his lungs his mind was driving him crazy as always.

The last few weeks hadn’t been easy for him. Things in his life had been more confusing than ever. It hadn’t been a day since that day his aunt gave him his mother’s diary that he hadn’t read it.

Most of the things written there didn’t make sense to him. His opinion about his father hasn’t changed, but it has become a bit more accepted. His father was his father. He couldn’t change this, but he needed to accept living with this fact and stop blaming him for his own mistakes. At least by his mother’s words his dad knew how to be a good partner. Something Ace was failing at miserably.

You had crossed his thoughts many times, but Ace had decided that the best thing he must do was to let you go. You had made it clear that no matter what, you want nothing to do with him, and he must respect your boundaries. He had already crossed and stepped over them many times and he didn’t plan to do so again.

Was he over you? He wanted to say yes, but he would be probably lying to himself. On top of it, right now, he had bigger issues on his own, and finding time to bother asking himself where his feelings and emotions towards you stood, wasn’t on the list at all.

Taking another puff of his cigarette, he overheard the entrance door of the bar opening and slightly turned his head to it, hoping that it would finally be his brother. It wasn’t his brother, and it was the person he least expected to see. Or at least to see tonight of all nights.

Both of you froze as your eyes met. Neither of you moving or saying anything. Last time you saw each other was Sanji’s birthday. It had been two months since then. Your last conversation was everything but nice and smooth.

You had two choices – avoiding Ace and taking the longer way home or pass by him and saving yourself five to ten minutes. Ignoring your fastened heartbeat, you clutched on the strap of your bag. Taking one deep breath, you made up your mind and went on your way.

To Ace’s surprise, you made your way towards him. He was sure that you would pass by him, not acknowledging his existence at all, but you stopped just two steps away from him, making him straighten his posture and drop his cigarette on the side.

“Hi.” You almost whispered.

“Hey.” He barely replied.

What were you supposed to say now? Why did you even stop greeting him in the first place? What gotten into you; do you just walk away now?

While your mind was searching for an answer to why you stopped speaking with him, Ace’s eyes couldn’t stop roaming up and down your face and body, but not in the pervert way. This wasn’t the girl he had seen months ago. You looked like a ghost. Physically you seemed here, but there was no life behind your eyes. The eyes, which he was so used to reading every little emotion behind them, now seemed so lifeless.

Not only this but the bags under your eyes weren’t hidden well enough with concealer, your mascara smudged around the corner of your eyelids. The obvious unhealthy weight drop he wanted to ignore but couldn’t.

Where did the girl he knew go, and what had happened to make her be a ghost in her own body?

Ace wanted to ask you millions of questions, but he couldn’t, he didn’t feel like he should nor that you would give him the answers.

You were looking everywhere but at him, still managed to steal some glances. His hair had gotten quite long, almost touching his shoulders. Not that you didn’t like it, just not used to seeing him with this long hair. He looked tired, but when he hadn’t. You were quite aware of his fucked up sleeping schedule, you doubted it had changed over the past few months. Maybe he was overworked.

“How’s life been?” You blurred out so fast Ace almost missed what you have asked.

He should be the one asking you this, not the other way around. Clearing his throat and shrugging a bit he didn’t really know what to respond. “Same old, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

Shrugging awkwardly, the hold of your bag became even stronger. “Same old.”

Lair. He wanted to call out your bluff, but he had no right to do so, for which he just nodded. “Didn’t you work only during the weekends?” Ace wasn’t sure if even this was okay to ask you, but he already said it out loud therefore he only hoped it would be alright.

“N-not anymore.” You didn’t miss the way one of his brows slightly lifted in a questionable manner for which you felt like you must explain yourself. “I’m working almost everyday now, juggling with school and so.”

“I see.” Ace mumbled. “How’s things going there? In school I mean.”

Looking down at your feet, you slightly tapped on the pavement with one foot, this conversation playing with your nerves. “It’s going well. Quite a lot of projects at the same time, but it’s nice. Keeps me busy.” Glancing at him from under your lashes, you gave him half a smile, one which didn’t reach the corner of your eyes.

Keeps you busy from what? Ace wanted to ask so badly but didn’t say anything. This small conversation with you was killing him. He had never had such an awkward interaction with you before. Even at Sanji’s party wasn’t this painful bad as right now.

You were no different than him. This was so bad, and awkward, and cringe… and painful. Telling each other bits about your lives when you used to talk for hours about the most stupid things ever without even batting an eye on how cringe or uncomfortable they might be was a different kind of pain. Going from strangers, to friends, to… strangers was quite painful. At least for you, you couldn’t speak for Ace’s behalf.

“Congrats, by the way.” You told him, making him give you another questioning look as he slightly tilted his head to the side. “Number one on Billboards. Nami and Usopp were talking about this all week long.”

Light laughter escaped past his lips as he looked up at the sky. He couldn’t believe what was happening; you of all people congratulating him. He must have crashed or something on the way here because there was no way this was happening right now.

“Did I say something funny?” The confusion in your voice was clear making Ace placing his hand to his heart as he fixed his eyes on you.

“No, doll.” The name coming so naturally to him that he didn’t even realize it, neither did you complain about it. “Just… you of all people congratulating me is kind of ironic that’s all.” He visibly got uncomfortable. The memories of how you two-, how he ended things with you, filled his mind. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t been a coward that night. “Thank you, tho.”

Considering how you two ended things last time you knew what he meant by this. Looking at the car behind him the bitter memory floated in your mind.

The awkward silence got interrupted by the loud opening of the door. Luffy finally came out and saved you and Ace from the position you two found yourselves in.

“Oi, (Y/N) did you change your mind?” Luffy completely ignored his brother, instead he focused his attention on you. His hand pointing at the car, reminding you of his offer earlier.

“Oh no, Luffy. Thank you.” Waving your hands in a protest against his offer you also gave him a small smile. “Just… saying hello to your brother that’s all.” Glancing at Ace, your eyes locked again, but you both looked away immediately, knowing that there were quite a lot of unsaid things between you two.

“So stubborn.” He chuckled, nudging Ace on the arm with his elbow. “Isn’t she Ace? I offered to give her a ride home, but she keeps declining me. Tell her that it’s not a problem.” Nudging him one more time, Luffy was starting to piss his brother off.

Glancing at you, Ace could see that this whole thing was becoming uncomfortable for you, despite your attempts to hide it. “If she told you no then leave her alone Luffy.”

Whining Luffy raised his hands in the air, defeated by his stubborn brother and friend who obviously needed a little push. What a lot of people didn’t realize about Luffy was that despite his goofiness, he was quite emotionally intelligent. There was still something left between you and his brother, which must be said or done, but sadly Luffy wasn’t the best when it came to how to create a plan.

Taking a deep breath in, this was the best moment to say your goodbye to the brothers. “Well, it was nice seeing you guys. I must get going now.”

“Same (Y/N).” Luffy replied before pushing Ace to the side so he could get in the car.

Without saying anything to each other you and Ace just slightly nodded goodbye. As you walked away Ace just gave you one last look before making his way around to the driver’s side. Cursing himself, he called out your name, making you turn around and look at him. “Take care.”

He didn’t mean just take care while getting home, he meant in general. Doubting that you would get what he meant nor that you would listen, he felt like telling you at least this for his own sake.

“I will Ace.” There was something very bitter in the way you smiled and responded to him.

Yet, hearing his name leaving your lips caused his heartstrings to pull. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed hearing your voice saying it, now all he had left was to yearn for the next time destiny would bring you together to hear it falling from your lips again.

Getting into the car and starting the engine, he didn’t say anything. His mind filled once again with you. Not only from the confusion he was feeling after this conversation, but guilt also. If he could reach out to you and make you speak with him, not about you two, but about why you were the way you currently were. What had happened to the lust for life in your eyes to get killed?

“She looks like shit.” Despite how lost Ace was in his thoughts he heard his brother loud and clearly. This sentence coming from Luffy earned him a big hard slap on the back of his head. “Ouch, what was that for?” Holding the back of his neck, Luffy looked at his brother in disbelief. “Why did you slap me so hard?”

“Never say something like that about her ever again.” Ace warned his brother as he gave him a deadly side-eyed glance.

“I didn’t mean it like she is ugly or some.” Luffy whined, returning his brother’s slap, but as a punch on the shoulder. “I meant she seems to be struggling with something. A lot.”

“Yea, I noticed that, too.” Ace murmured. Biting the inside of his cheek he sighed before turning to his brother. “Any idea why?” He shouldn’t be asking questions, but he couldn’t help it.

“Her mother died, maybe that’s why.” Luffy shrugged looking at his brother, who knew her better. He expected Ace to give him some answers, instead he said nothing.

Ace was aware of your relationship with your mother. He was not doubting that you might be grieving for her in some way, but this bad? There had to be more to it.

Dropping Luffy to his place the two brothers said goodbye, but before leaving the car Luffy turned to Ace. “Should we check on her?” The tone of his voice was filled with concern, after all you were his friend, and Luffy treated his friends like family.

“Luffy…” Ace signed deeply before continuing. “I have no rights to do such thing, but you can. After all she is a friend of yours, isn’t she?”

“She was your friend, too.” Ace didn’t need this painful reminder. “More than this even.”

“Luffy, enough.” Ace’s voice was warning; his little brother was pushing his buttons.

Getting out of the car, Luffy leaned on the open door. “Just reach out to her, Ace. This might be your chance to do something right with this girl for once.” Without waiting for a response from Ace, Luffy slammed the door and made his way to his apartment.

Getting home, Ace couldn’t get his little brother’s words out of his mind. Luffy was right, to a certain extent. Last time you made it clear – you wanted nothing to do with him. But tonight… tonight you were the one who approached him. You were the one who engaged the conversation.

There wasn’t a single trace of the angry, hurt by him girl. Instead, there was this shell of a person who had been shattered by something. You were hurt, but not heartbroken hurt… did someone hurt you? There was something in the way you looked tonight that reminded him of something, but he couldn’t point out what it was exactly.

Pacing back and forth around his apartment Ace didn’t know what to do. He wanted to reach out but how? He couldn’t think of anything.

He grabbed and put down his phone many times. Should he text or call you? He doubted you would answer either way. Hell, you probably had his number blocked, he wouldn’t be surprised. He deserved it after all.

But why did you stop and speak with him tonight?

“Come on, coward.” Running his hand through his messy dark locks he pulled on it. “Think. Just think.”

Maybe this was the problem. He was thinking too much. Maybe he just needed to try whatever came into his mind first and just do it.

Grabbing his phone one more time he opened it and scrolled to your name in his contacts list. Opening the messages he looked at the last one exchanged between you two. If only he could turn back time.

He typed. And typed. And deleted. And typed. And deleted. And nothing felt right. Finally, he got frustrated with himself and wrote the only logical sentence that made sense in his mind. ‘Did you get home?’

Throwing the phone on the side after pressing sent Ace didn’t want to look at it. The chances of you responding were zero. Why would you? He was sure he was a closed chapter in your life. There was no way you could be still keen on him the same way he was on you.

He was so stupid. He should have never sent this message. Maybe you haven’t seen it yet and be could unsent it. Reaching for his phone to delete the messages at the same moment it vibrated. His hand froze over the phone. There was no way you would respond. Right?

On the way back home I could stop slapping myself mentally in the head. What had gotten into me? Why did I stop to speak with him? What was wrong with me?

Walking into my apartment I threw my bag to the side and went to the bathroom immediately. Taking my clothes off, putting my hair to the side, I turned the shower on and let the water fall on my body. The warm water wasn’t helping to relax my body at all.

I would be lying to myself if I said that it wasn’t nice to speak with Ace again. Even if the conversation was awkward and very uncomfortable. It could have always been worse. We already had way worse conversations than this one.

Tonight, there was something different about him. He was somehow changed, and it wasn’t just his appearance. Something had happened to him, but what was it? Maybe I can ask Nami sometimes and she might know something.

But it didn’t matter. Ace was a closed chapter in my life. An unfinished closed chapter. I was over him and I shouldn’t allow my mind to wander around the memories of him.

Getting out of the shower I took my makeup off and started applying a new one. I had decided to go to this club these two girls told me about. Fuck Kid and his concerns. What was the worst thing that could happen? Someone spiking my drink? It had happened once, I didn’t plan for it to happen twice as I would only go to see the place, dance for a bit and then go home. Nothing too crazy.

I heard my phone vibrate, but I ignored it as I was looking for something to put on. It should be already after midnight and tomorrow I must be at school for a lighting exercise which should start at nine, which means that if I would get home around four or five in the morning, I should have around three hours of sleep left before I leave for school.

Finally, picking up what to wear, just a top with some skirt, I quickly put it on. I went to the fridge and took a new cold energy drink, now there was no Kid or Shanks to bother me so I could drink it at peace. Taking a big sip of it, I left it on the kitchen counter and went to grab my bag to look for my phone. Pulling it out, I gasped.

I was not sure how many times I had reread the message. “Did you get home…” I read out loud to myself.

I never blocked his number. There was always this hope within me that one day he would reach out again, but this hope died long time ago and after that I just forgot to block him.

Swiping on the screen to unlock the phone I opened the message. I could just leave it as it was and not respond at all. Instead, I answer, short and clear – ‘Yes. :)’

“Don’t read too much into it (Y/N)!” I scolded myself.

Leaving the phone on the side I walked into the bathroom to take one last look at myself, and I sighed. To be honest, I couldn’t recognize myself. No wonder I get people asking me all the time if I was alright. Going out at almost one in the morning? By myself? To meet with some strangers who took drugs in the toilets of a random club?

I wondered if she started that way too. Maybe she also had a shitty mother who abandoned her, so she took comfort in the illusion created by the drug she used.

Walking back into the room I sat on the couch. I had two options: first one – take off my makeup, put on some movie and try to sleep; second one – go out and hope nothing bad happens and have a good time.

I was trying to create this new persona, new me. A happy outgoing spontaneous girl, because no one would like the old more closed off person I was. My past was the best example of it. Was going out a bad idea? Definitely, but I must do it, if I want to keep living as the ‘new’ me.

Getting up from the couch I made my way to the hallway, put my shoes on and was ready to leave when I realized I left my phone somewhere around the kitchen counter. It took me less than a few seconds to find it. Checking to see if I had everything with me, I opened the door and just as I was about to step outside my phone vibrated in my hand.

‘Don’t want to bother u. Just checking if u got home safe.’

One hand was holding a strong grip on the phone, the other on the door handle. I could ignore the message and just go with my night. I should ignore this message. I must ignore this message. I was over him. He didn’t matter at all to me anymore. I never mattered to him. So why would he care if I was safe or not?

The memories of him and I at Sanji’s party came into my mind. I did wonder a few times what it would have been like if I said yes that night to his offer of a new beginning for us. Did he mean as friends or more than this? What if I had let him in again? Would things have been better? What if I had said yes that night, I might have also said yes to her, and she would have been still alive? What if… what if…

The pulse in my body drastically increased. I could feel myself gasping for air. Taking a step back and shutting the door I leaned on the wall and slowly fell to the floor. My heart was beating so fast and hard to a point I could feel it almost ripping off my chest. Taking off the top I had put on, I was left in only my bra and skirt. My skin was burning. My mouth got dry, and I was in desperate need of water.

Crawling to the kitchen while still gasping for air I managed to reach the sink and slowly get up. Gripping on the countertop I turned the water tap on and let it run before splashing some water on my skin. With a shaking hand I reached for a glass and filled it up with water. Trying my best to calm myself and normalize my breathing I raised the glass to my lips, but because of my shaky hands it how wet it was I dropped it on the floor.

The glass pieces spread across the floor and the water splashed everywhere. This was like a final straw for everything I was holding. Collapsing on the floor on my knees and hands, an agonizing cry left my lips. Some of the glass pieces stuck to the palms of my hands and now there were drops of blood mixing with the water on the floor.

What if all of this happened just because I turned his suggestion for a new start down? What if I was in a better mindset after it and none of this would have happened? What if I was with him that day and I handled the encounter with her better? What if we were still friends but I still managed to withhold my anger? What if I never confessed my feelings to him? What if… What if…

My mind was spiraling. There was a new what if after the new what if. I needed air. I needed to also stop the blood coming from the palms of my hands and remove the glass pieces stuck on them, and clean the floor, and I must… I must do so many things, but my mind was in a fog.

Getting up on my feet, stepping on the broken pieces with my shoes on and still shaking I slowly made my way to the front door. I couldn’t prosses what I was doing or going. I wasn’t sure why I was doing it.

Supporting myself with one elbow on the wall I kneeled down to get my phone. With shaky fingers I opened it and dialed the number I should be the least calling. He would probably - no, he would definitely think that I was extremely pathetic. I surely was. But I was also out of my mind right now and apparently tonight was all about the wrong decision so one more would be the end of it.

The phone rang a few times before I heard the painfully familiar low raspy voice of his. “Hello?”

Biting on my lower lip as hard as I could to surpass the sob threatening to leave my lips, I inhaled through my nose and breathed out through my mouth as quietly as possible. “Ace…” I whispered, a single tear falling from the corner of my eye.

I guess I wasn’t the best at hiding as he started shooting a question after the question at me. “Where are you? Are you crying? Are you hurt?” His voice was full of concern. I could hear him moving around before he spoke up again. “Please answer me. I’m on my way to wherever you are, okay?”

“I’m home.” I quietly replied, slowly kneeling and sitting on the cold floor of the hallway.

“Twenty. No, fifteen. No, fuck. Ten minutes and I’m there, you hear me?” Hearing the keys from the other side of the line and the loud shutting of the door, I just hummed. “Doll, please speak to me.” He told me, his voice pleading. “Are you hurt? Why are you crying? Just… fuck.”

I couldn’t focus much on what he was telling me as I was too focused looking at my bleeding hands. It wasn’t much blood, there were three small pieces of glass in my right hand and just one on my left, but it didn’t hurt, or I just couldn’t feel it right now. I slowly picked them out one by one.

“I’m… I’m not hurt Ace.” I was extremely hurt, emotionally, not physically. “The door code is the same. Drive safe, please.” My voice was quite low, almost above a whisper.

“Don’t cut off the line, stay with me.” He told me more calmly now. “I just got in the car, and I need ten minutes to get to your place, okay?”

“Okay.” I whispered. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, no you didn’t.” Not only did his voice get calmer, but it also got softer.

“What were you doing?”

“Was watching a movie.”

“Which one?”

“You gonna make fun of me.” He softly chuckled.

Clicking with my tongue I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “No, I won’t.”

“I’ll tell you when I come.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me about the movie you directed, yea?” I could tell he was trying to distract me from whatever was going on in my head and I let him.

“Which one?”

“The one you filmed at the end of… March I think it was?”

“Oh, that one.” I murmured. “How do you know when we filmed it?”

“Usopp.”

“Yea, that makes sense.” I softly chuckled.

I was tired. Not physically, but mentally. But I still told him about how it went, and by the time I was done he was already parking outside and making his way up.

“I’ll see you in a few seconds, doll.” He told me before cutting the line.

This was my cue to get up and unlock the door. Getting up on my feet my heart once again started beating faster as I knew that just seconds from now, he would be standing right here in front of me and seeing how much of a mess I was. At the same time as the doorbell rang, I reached for the handle. Taking a deep breath in, I pressed it down and opened the door. And there he was.

Standing in front of me at two in the morning, my prince in shining armor. What a cliché.

Clearing his throat, Ace looked away a bit uncomfortable. “Uhm… doll.” He said, glancing back at me.

“Yes, sorry. Come in.” Shaking my head I realized that I should move to let him in.

“I’ll, but… um… You’re kind of half naked.”

Looking down at myself I noticed that I was only wearing my bra and skirt. I forgot the fact that I was fighting for breath and took off my top. “Oh.” I exclaimed calmly. “Sorry, totally forgot this part.” Mumbling to myself, I walked to where I threw off the top, giving him more space to come in. Putting it on me, I turned to him. “So, um… you see the apartment is a bit of a mess.”

Closing the door behind him, Ace turned to me. “Yea… the apartment is.” Ace murmured to himself as you lead the way inside.

END NOTE: Poor Reader :'(... my girl can't catch a break. I hope you wouldn't hate me for the weight drop description, it just felt right to write it this way, so please excuse me. The last part of the chapter has always been in my mind, and it must end this way for what is about to happen next, but no spoilers. Again idk why I struggled so much writing this one and then editing it, but anyway - it is out now, if you are reading this is means you finished it, and you are free to leave your feedback ♡ I always appreciate your likes, comments, reblogs and messages ♡ Love you all a lot, don't hate me too much and take care ♡

✰ taglist ✰ @orange-milky @neospade @bluetokie @glaciuswduo @izoswifey @l-l-light @kanekisheart @gojossixtheyes @lilink @kitsunechan707 @kattywhomper @moldychefboyardeecan

♡ comment or message me if you want to be included in the taglist ♡

writing, format & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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croquettish · 15 days ago

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We often talk about Henry's side of the Hansry romance in terms of joy. Of Hans unlocking a joy Henry has buried inside him and has difficulty accessing since Skalitz. But I think there's also a side of- purity that he finds in Hans, and I know that sounds ridiculous but gimme a moment.

Henry is on a revenge quest. He goes from Mama's Boy to Papa's Avenger, and like, there is a developer mysoginy aspect to that, but if we read it within story, he is not trying to be who he was when he asked his mom to heal his wounds, someone who asked for comfort and protection. That boy let everyone down. That boy could only run away. He can't quite reconcile with the boy who was his mama's boy with who he is trying to be- so he is his pa's son, or Radzig's son. He doeesn't know how his mother would act with the person he is trying to be.

And Henry does not want to let anyone down. Does not want to run away. These are core values. But he also wants revenge- that part of the equation gives him motivation to move forward he might not otherwise have. Depending on how you play, Henry is gonna let that need turn him into someone, arguably, monstruous. Someone who repeats the harm done to him. Someone merciless. Someone who pa seems disconnected from in his own dreams.

And here comes Hans, and on the one hand, he loves the boy from Skalitz. He lets Henry relax. He lets Henry exist in a space where there is no underlying mission in the back of his mind. And he has a lot of idealized notions that either remind Henry of who he was when he was happier or of who he is trying to remain- the kind of person with notions of being a hero and doing good. On the other hand, Hans is someone who will often engage Henry with moral questions, but very rarely be unwilling to understand him, even when Hans does disagree. Hans is also someone who admires Henry's force of will, a.k.a. the changes Henry is embracing, and from the perspetive of being a "damsel in distress" narratively, someone who must, even subconsciously, let Henry act out the dream of not letting anyone down, of not running away, and of protecting, while not evoking the uglier emotions of revenge- though Hans would support him, as we know from Hans' declaration of willingness to gang up on Istvan, but not to the edges Henry himself dislikes, like burning down Maleshov.

So Hans is purity as both someome who appreciates the person Henry remembers being and the best of who he is trying to be, with a simplicity of goodness in his support.

Hans is someone who I think, as a romance option, appeals to aspects of Henry all around, while other characters appeal to very specific parts of him only. Theresa, Katherine, and Rosa don't quite engage with the multiplicity in Henry. (My take- no hate to the other romance options. maybe they dont hit as many notes because they are simply not as woven into the story.)

Okay so I actually really love this analysis esp bc I actually haven't heard the Hans : joy comparison. That is so lovely. But I also love the bits you mentioned about Henry's parents, since this really got me thinking about them. Incidentally, I've been debating streaming a "mom's approval" KCD2 run on twitch if people here had any interested in that whatsoever.

I also love that you pointed out this change in Henry, from mama's boy to papa's avenger, in part because it's actually a very good way to contextualize how little his mother does show up (outside of the misogyny, which, don't get me wrong, is 100% a factor here). Because she represents for him a childlike innocence he not only can never return to, he doesn't think he deserves it. Like I despise the fact that she doesn't have a name as much as the next person, but even that is something that could be explained (to a minimal extent, I'm not letting them off the hook here) through that lens. Until you're an adult your parents aren't their own people and don't exist outside of their roles of (for Henry) mother and father. But in his father he could see someone who had once fought and traveled the world. The association with the sword itself feels very poignant here.

Not to mention that, if Radzig hadn't named him, we as the players wouldn't have known Martin's name until we met Samuel, who of course knew him only in the context of that emotional (and physical!) distance between them. (That said I do find it interesting that Radzig only refers to Henry's mother as such, and I think it has to do again with that emotional closeness. Of seeing Henry in his love for her. She's not just a name, she's the person who gave him this son he was forced to love from afar for a very long time. And lbr here, he most likely only ever expected to get to love him in that way, from an acute distance.)

Your interpretation of Hans as being representative of this purity (more like his mother than his father in that regard, if I'm reading what you're saying correctly?) is also very interesting. I definitely see what you're saying! I'd go even further and say that Hans is acceptance for him just as Henry is freedom for Hans. Hans clearly wants to be a savior to Henry. But he can't be, so barring that he wants to at least be a safe space for him. And in doing that he is, in fact, acting as the savior he wants to be so badly.

Even though he acts as a moral compass for Henry to a certain extent (such as with burning down Maleshov, as you yourself said), even if Henry turns into someone truly monstrous over the course of KCD2, he still loves and accepts him in the end. Henry's other love interests have… what I would call a rather limited view of Henry. They only get him in small bursts and only see him in very specific contexts. It's also why (!!) it would be so difficult for those relationships to continue, because a relationship that only ever exists in one context can only rarely be removed from that context no matter how badly Henry might want it to be. Meanwhile, Hans could be with Henry 24/7 (and often is!) and it would only make him love Henry all the more for it.

And I mean, listen. I love and respect everyone in this fandom including people who ship Henry with the ladies but also if that is their ship of choice I would sincerely wonder why they were here following me specifically. It feels like this place would not be somewhere where they would have a good time?? Unless they also ship Hansry in which case WELCOME! You will probably enjoy your time here!!!

#thank you so much for such a poignant ask #I love thinking about stuff like this #kcd meta #henry of skalitz #hans capon #hansry #kcd #kingdom come deliverance #kcd2 spoilers #tam talks

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poisonlove · 1 year ago

Text

We can't be friends | w.a

Request @ortegalvr

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Warning: Fluffy, Sad

Belladonna

The belladonna plant, also known as Atropa belladonna, is notorious for being poisonous, but some of its chemicals can be used in medicine to treat certain conditions, as in traditional medicine. However, its use requires extreme caution and medical supervision due to its toxicity.

I scrunch up my nose and look at the words in our herbology book with confusion. I had to do thorough research on poisonous plants and any potential benefits they might bring, so I decided to take advantage of this research time at the Weathervane.

"Here's your macchiato," I raise my head from the book and see the barista. The brown-eyed, curly-haired guy gives me a small smile. "Thank you," I return the smile and notice him walking back to the counter, wiping some cups.

I sigh audibly and sip the coffee, closing my eyes to the delicious flavor. It wasn't Italian, but it was still good, less watery than I imagined. I lick my lower lip and return my eyes to my notes, tapping the pen on the paper, thinking of some other poisonous plant.

I needed to get a good grade.

The sound of the bell in the shop marks someone's arrival, and I look up curiously, seeing a familiar figure. A sensation of chill runs through my body, my heart pounding frantically against my chest.

I couldn't move.

Wednesday Addams was accompanied by a girl, a blonde with colorful highlights. The blonde was smiling broadly and chatting with the brunette, who was looking at her with her usual apathetic gaze. Wednesday was wearing an all-black school uniform, her unmistakable braids hanging over her shoulders.

Her eyes flick in my direction, and I feel my shoulders slump, my eyes softening as I look at Wednesday after so many years. Wednesday seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't show it. Her posture remained perfect, no hint of shock or surprise, just her eyes staring into mine as if trying to read something in them.

The blonde, noticing where Wednesday was looking, leans towards her, probably asking who I was, interrupting the staring contest that had developed between me and her. "I didn't know you knew anyone here in Jericho," is the only thing I manage to catch from their dialogue, and I lower my head to the table, playing with my hands.

It was a habit I had when I was nervous and embarrassed, which was plausible considering it's been years since I've seen little Addams. "Wed, are you okay?" the blonde asks again, two tables away from me. I purse my lips, feeling bitterness in my mouth at the nickname she gave her.

Wed? Now you're letting her call you by my nickname? I thought bitterly.

I sigh audibly and turn my attention back to my assignment, trying to ignore the conversations between the blonde and Wednesday, even though the latter barely spoke. I unconsciously smile, knowing it was just like her to behave this way.

Let's say that every time we went out together, I was the one who talked the most of the two, the brunette just looked at me without blinking, her deer-like eyes watching me with curiosity as I talked and talked. It made me smile and shiver at the same time to be watched with such intensity, but Wednesday loved listening to me talk, she always said she liked my voice

Oleander... Poison... Wednesday.

I knew perfectly well that Wednesday loved this kind of thing, studying every kind of weapon or poisonous plant, a passion her mother passed on to her. But this connection came to mind only now seeing Addams' figure.

I raise my gaze, unconsciously looking at the girl who was my downfall, the love of my life... A girl I still think could be mine. I see her talking to the blonde, smiling shyly, almost imperceptibly at her words.

Apparently, she can understand you, right?

Because I'm different from her, right?

"No! You can't understand! I don't want to hurt you," Wednesday's voice suddenly rises, looking at me seriously.

"But..." I start, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.Wednesday turns her back on me and walks towards the entrance of my room, her hand on the doorknob, her back rigid.

"We can't keep seeing each other, I don't want to see you anymore," her voice lowers again, a cold chill creeping into my bones.

"You're leaving me?" I whisper, looking at the brunette in disbelief. Wednesday doesn't even hint at turning around, her shoulders slumping as she opens the door.

"Wed," I say timidly, my voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. Addams tightly grips the doorknob, her posture still perfect.

"Don't be pathetic, y/n... You're smarter than this," she says with such coldness that it leaves me stunned. After this sentence, Wednesday walks through the door of my room, leaving my house and my life.

It's been 3 years since that moment, and I still shiver at the memory.

I clench my jaw tightly, trying to suppress the anger and pain I still feel, as I delve into my assignment, trying to find comfort in the pages of the book.

"What do you want to order, Wed?" asks a high-pitched voice. I look at the paper while waiting for her rather obvious response.

"Iced espresso," Wednesday replies neutrally.

Her favorite, I know.

Apparently, she still liked the coffee I made her try at my house during our first study project.

Umm... What can I offer you?" I ask nervously as I watch the brunette marveling around my kitchen. Wednesday touches my microwave and looks at it closely.

"What do you have?" she asks spontaneously, her voice small but determined.

"I asked you for a reason, don't you think?" I chuckle timidly, smiling at Addams' strangeness. Wednesday didn't seem like a very... Simple girl, indeed, she had a morbid sense of humor and a loyalty to the color black.

Wednesday gazes into my eyes, making me blush at their intensity. Black eyes stare into mine without blinking, whether curious or annoyed, I still don't know.

"What's that?" she points to the coffee machine, and I blink incredulously.

"You really don't know what it is?" I ask in surprise, and she tilts her head sideways, analyzing me with her gaze.

"It's a coffee machine... Do you want to try my family's famous iced espresso?" I ask proudly, my eyes lighting up with excitement.

The corners of Addams' mouth lift, and she timidly nods her head.

I shake my head and try to focus, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek before falling onto the book. I clench my jaw and try not to cry. Focus on the task.

Don't be weak, don't be pathetic

"Enid, can you hurry up and finish the frappé? It's almost writing time," Wednesday asks with a hint of irritation, earning a glare from what I now know is called Enid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch their interaction, Wednesday's black eyes pointing towards my direction again. I look away towards her features: high cheekbones, full lips, a stoic but incredibly attractive gaze. Wednesday remains motionless, staring at me, and I surrender to her gaze, starting to pack up my things to put them in my backpack.

The memory of our first date...

We were in the dark room of Wednesday's house, enveloped by the tense and mysterious atmosphere of a horror movie playing on the big screen. Sitting on the couch, I was completely immersed in the plot, but every now and then a shiver of terror would make me jump.

I felt the tension building inside me as the scenes became increasingly eerie. My hands were clenched into fists on my knees, and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might burst from my chest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.

Suddenly, a particularly scary scene materialized on the screen, and I couldn't hold back a small scream of terror. Without hesitation, Wednesday grabbed my hand firmly, surprising me with her quick action.

The touch of her hand on mine made me jump, but immediately I felt a sense of calm spreading inside me. Her fingers were cold, but the grip was comforting, as if she wanted to protect me from the terror surrounding usI looked at Wednesday with gratitude, finding comfort in her dark and deep eyes.

She didn't say a word, but her simple gesture spoke more than a thousand words. In that moment, I understood that I wasn't alone, that she was there with me, ready to support me.

So, with Wednesday's hand in mine, I faced the rest of the movie with a renewed sense of courage, knowing that no matter how terrifying it was, I could overcome it with her by my side.

Our first kiss, which happened later that evening.

Wednesday and I locked eyes, a silence filled with tension and emotion enveloping the room.

Our gaze met, and I could sense the same uncertainty I felt.Then, slowly, Wednesday leaned towards me, her eyes fixed on mine with intensity. My heart was pounding so hard I feared it might burst, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

Her lips brushed against mine cautiously, as if she was afraid of hurting me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my face, and a shiver ran down my spine as I leaned in closer to her. Our first kiss was a moment of pure enchantment, a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions.

Wednesday's lips were soft and warm against mine, and the contact was so intense that for a moment it seemed like the world around us stopped.

An onslaught of memories overwhelms me, making me feel vulnerable. My heart breaks at the memories of what we were, of what we shared.

I feel like that flood of memories could easily drive me to madness, but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire. I just want to let this story die, and I'll be alright.

"Shit," I whisper, clenching my jaw tightly.

I stand up from the chair, and the cup near me falls to the ground, attracting the attention of the others. Tyler, the barista, walks over to me and crouches down to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say with concern. "It's okay, accidents happen," he says, smiling kindly.

My eyes glance at Wednesday, and I see her turn her head upon hearing the noise. The blonde next to her continues to drink her frappé, unfazed by the events. Wednesday keeps looking at me in a strange way, her eyes... Glassy. They're kind. Her body invites me to approach and I freeze at the thought of standing just a few steps away from her, face to face.

Maybe she wants to talk and sort things out?

Be friends?

I purse my lips and break the eye contact between us. I grab the backpack with my assignments inside and look at Tyler with concern, who smiles broadly at me.

I give him a small smile and leave the shop, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

We can't be friends, there are too many feelings.

But I'd like to just pretend, maybe one day not too far away I'll be able to.

But a part of me... Wait until you like me again.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #request #taking requests

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exquisiteserotonin · 2 months ago

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Hiii, first of all, I loved your last fanfic with Geta, your writing is really good 💕

Well, I'm also in my Joseph Quinn era sooo I'd love a fanfic with Eddie

One where the female!reader who was from some big city and moved to Hawkins, she could have become popular very quickly because of that and even though she is surrounded by people who hate Eddie, she starts to like him without caring about others

It would be nice to have smut, but if it doesn't it wouldn't be a problem. I imagine a bold and funny reader, someone that matches Eddie's freakiness really well 👀

Sorry for my English, it's not my mother tongue 😂

Hello darling! Sorry it took a bit to get this out 1) I cannot really write anything short for the life of me and 2) I work too, but I was able to write a little bit of this each day. So without further ado, my very first ask! <3

Big City Girl

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x You

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: You're a new girl in town, fresh in from New York City. Fitting in comes easy to you, but you form unlikely (to your friends) and unapologetic friendship with Eddie Munson. But maybe, just maybe it's even a little bit more.

Warnings: Finger fucking, Fingering, PiV sex, Teenage (but consenting age) sex, public sex, reader is experienced for a teenager and practices smart/safe sex and is protected. And a little bit of fluff! <3

A/N: Please be kind, this s not beta read and it's my first ask! <3 I also put in some random original character as a device to further the plot and character development for the reader.

Read on AO3

Songs mentioned:

It’s only your sixth day in Hawkins Indiana since moving from New York City and just your third at Hawkins High. You hate that your dad’s been placed on special assignment here and during your senior year no less. Not that your dad really cares about anything that you do. You’ve always taken it upon yourself to make the most of pretty much everything in your life, since he was generally nonchalant about anything you do. If you didn’t, who would? You find out from girls you met in your English class that there are dance team tryouts. You’ve been dancing since you were 3 years old. Trying out just makes sense.

So here you stand in the middle of the Hawkins basketball court before a row of three people: two coaches and a very pretty, if not also insufferable senior dancer. Other dancers are in the bleachers or walking to and from the locker room as they finish practice. They are all watching and waiting as your knees and hips rock in a rhythmic beat to the opening notes of Laura Branigan’s “Self Control” begins to play over the speakers. You almost smirk as the three glance at each other uncomfortably. You didn't think the song was that sultry, but maybe to people in a small town like Hawkins it was a little scandalous.

5, 6, 7, and…

You count in your head.

Each move extends from you like it’s second nature. Each flex and point of your foot are timed perfectly to each beat. Your body rolls and undulates with the melody as though you’ve become possessed by the music. You swear you hear an audible gasp from your coaches as your legs seem to grow longer with each developpé and how you’re able to control and somehow abandon yourself to the music and movement.

A safe night (You take my self, you take my self control)

I'm living in the forest of a dream (You take my self, you take my self control)

Your body slinks with each word until you slip into a series of pirouettes and fouettés before you finish dropping to the floor and finish. The music ends. Your heart is pounding. Your breaths come out in a steady rhythm from the work and heart you put into your dance. Simply put: you kill your audition. Yet, as you’re regaining your breath, you hear silence as you wait for the feedback from your would-be coaches and potential teammate. A deafening clap strikes through the silence.

“Are you shitting me? You’re not even gonna clap for the girl?”

You hear a voice yell out that is filled with such indignance it nearly makes you laugh. You push yourself up from the floor to see who called out praises. You see another Hawkins’ student with long, wavy hair, wearing a denim vest over his worn leather jacket and black jeans. He looks like he belongs in a metal band and it leaves an impression. In contrast, everyone at the courts looks annoyed or disgusted by his very existence. The irony of it makes you hide a smile. So far it seems that everyone in Hawkins looks the same. At least this guy has some personality. He’s looking at you, his brow furrows in indignation as he waves around a broom in one hand, a dust pan in the other.

“Ugh, can someone please get him?” You hear the senior dancer say with so much disdain that it immediately turns you off to her. “Isn’t he in detention or something?”

“You’re great!” You hear him say as another teacher shuffles him away. “Your kicks were really badass!”

You can’t help but laugh and give him a little wave before he’s gone. A sigh of exasperation escapes the senior dancer. The coaches glance at each other, saying something quietly to the senior that immediately makes her straighten her posture and attend to your presence. A too big smile fills her face and you know immediately that her jaw must hurt.

“I mean, as much as I hate to agree with Eddie Munson,” the senior dancer starts as you stand up, “you were absolutely amazing.”

“Your technique is superb!” One of the coaches says. “Your musicality and your innate ability to feel the music really shined---I don’t want to speak for everyone, but I know I’m so impressed.”

The other coach nods and opens a folder in front of her, “Your choice of song was a little…mature for high school, but you’re from New York so I guess things are a little different there.”

You squint your eyes in confusion and place your hands behind you as you wait patiently for their feedback. Their small-town judgement feels tangible but you let it roll off you like raindrops on a window. You have to fight to keep from laughing, knowing that whatever criticism they think they are dishing out is nothing compared to your auditions in New York. At 18 years old, rejection is already a bitchy acquaintance of yours.

“I think she would be such an asset to the team!” The senior dancer adds to the discussion. “Who knows? Maybe if we can really focus, the dance team could be competition ready.”

“That’s a pretty heavy undertaking, Kelly,” the coach in the middle says, “but if you think the team is up for it.”

You make a mental note of the senior dancer’s name, knowing that you are probably going to have a lot of contact with her in future. She jumps up and down as she claps her hands. You don’t like to assume that you’re on the team, so you wait until they tell you.

“Welcome to the team!!” Kelly squeals as she runs to you.

“Thanks!” You say with an appreciative nod trying to be at least little bit humble.

She walks with you back to the locker room, interlocking her arm in yours.

“Don’t mind Coach Thompson about your song choice,” she reassures you. “It’ll be nice to have someone with some edge on the team—can’t move forward without taking little risks, right?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” You concur, as you pull a pair of sweatpants pants and an oversized, cropped t-shirt over your leotard.

“I just know everyone’s going to love you!” Kelly says with genuine excitement. “I mean, who wouldn’t? You’ve already got that cool NYC thing going on.”

The doors of the school gym open out to a large parking lot. Your cars are parked on opposite sides of the parking lot and she turns to leave. She calls out to you one more time, prompting you to turn around.

“Oh, and watch out for Eddie Munson,” she mentions with a slight scowl on her face that looks like she’s just smelled something bad. “Trust me, you don’t want to associate with someone like him.”

You press your lips together and just nod. You don't like anyone telling you what to do, especially when it comes to friends. But you also hate confrontation, so you offer her a kind smile, a wave, and a “see you tomorrow.”

A large van is parked only a few spaces from yours. As you walk around the driver’s side you see the Eddie Munson whom Kelly warned you about. He is in the driver’s seat and his eyes move towards you. The New York in you merely wants to ignore and keep walking, but you stop and pivot to face him.

“Hey, hi!” You call out and his eyes shift to his left and right before he looks back at you. “Thanks for the compliment earlier.”

“Oh? You’re actually talking to me! No problem, you were great!” He hops out of the van. “Hey, I’m Eddie, that Eddie Munson.”

“Your reputation seems to precede you,” you say gesturing towards the gym and in the general direction of Kelly’s now departed car.

“Oh, it quite often does,” Eddie confirms and his eyes lower as he gives you a roguish grin. “Pretty ballsy of you to talk me knowing it’d be social suicide, big city girl.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be half as good at everything I do, if I spent all my time worrying about what other people think of me,” you say with a shrug, “now would I?”

“Like dancing?” Eddie tilts his head as he gestures at you in your dance gear.

You hum in thought at the question before replying, “Among other things.”

Eddie raises his brow and you see the intrigue that lives there. He brings a hand to his chin and rubs his lips as he thinks about your words. You introduce yourself, playfully with a little curtsy and he responds with a bow in turn. He smiles as he places a hand on the chain that hangs on his jeans. You consider yourself a good judge of character and in this brief face-to-face Eddie seems harmless.

“Well, it’s getting a little late,” you say as the golden light begins to fade into shades of coral, pink, and dusty purple. “Guess I should go.”

“Yep,” Eddie says and shakes his head, “just so we can go to bed to do it again tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” you reply as you start walking to your car, but turn around quickly to give him a quick wave. “See you around, Eddie Munson.”

People say that three times is a charm. Maybe this is what they mean. Because on this third day at Hawkins High, you’ve made your first real friend.

***

It’s an understatement to say how relatively easy it’s been to ingratiate yourself into the Hawkins High community. With the school year almost over, it’s starting to feel almost like home. You get along with everyone and everyone is confused by it, most of all the jocks, the cheerleaders, and nearly everyone on your dance team.

The halls are abuzz with excitement as the entire school gears up for the next basketball game. For the first time in a long time, the Hawkins Tigers are headed to the championship. The season keeps you busy as you and Kelly choreograph dances for halftime at the games. You’ve even been able to convince your coaches and Kelly to get the marching band to play with you during halftime on Friday.

The shrill bell sounds throughout the halls and countless smiling faces acknowledge and greet you. Vicky, a girl in the marching band, approaches you. Her eyes are shining and her smile is wide on her freckled face. You give her arm a squeeze and you pull her next to you as you walk with Kelly, some of the other girls on your dance team, and a few of the basketball players to the cafeteria. You can feel the judgement emanating from one or two of your teammates as you lock arms with her.

“We’ve been working on stuff for the game on Friday,” Vicky tells you. “It’s going to be so rad!”

“We can’t wait! We’re still on for the joint rehearsal tomorrow, right?” You ask and she gives you an effervescent nod before she excuses herself to run off with some of her other bandmates.

“Hey big city girl!!” You look up to see your first Hawkins friend at a locker with some of the members of his gaming club. “Still on for lunch?”

You flash him a big smile and say, “Wouldn’t miss it, Munson!”

A freshman, who you think is called Dustin, stands next to Eddie wearing a face of utter shock and follows it by shoving him at his shoulders. The way Eddie follows it by slapping his hand away was like watching a slapstick comedy unfold in real time. Dustin waves his hand wildly in your direction before Eddie presses a hand to his face and you can’t help but laugh.

“Why do you do that?” Kelly pulls you in close before you enter the cafeteria.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say dryly, already losing enough patience to your New York accent come out a little more as she corners you.

“Are you, like, being charitable or something?” Exasperation and a hint of embarrassment lace her tone as she continues.

“Come on, he is actually my friend,” you can’t hide your eyeroll, “not everything is a charity case, Kelly.”

“You need to be careful,” her voice gets sterner.

You cross your arms over your chest waiting for what she has to say next.

“You can’t keep leading him on like that. It’s cruel.”

“What?!”

This is news to you. You feel defensive for yourself and protective of Eddie. Kelly obviously has no clue what she’s talking about.

“I’m not leading him on.” You can feel your face contort into a scowl you can‘t hide. “Why would I do that to him?”

Kelly crosses her arms over her chest and raises one brow at you, “He’s so obviously into you. If you were really his friend, you’d do the right thing and let him down easy.”

“Whatever,” you scoff and quickly walk away, “I’m going to have lunch with my friend now.”

You rush through the lunch line, grabbing a salad and at the last-minute snatch a small bag of three cookies. After you pay for your lunch, you storm through the cafeteria until you find Eddie at the table where you always sit and plop your tray and yourself in front of him. You’re so annoyed that you don’t even start on your salad, you immediately grab a cookie and start breaking it into bite sized pieces to stuff in your mouth.

“Uh oh,” Eddie says, watching cautiously as you eat, “you got cookies, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you reply too quickly as you finish one cookie and turn your attention to your salad.

“Nope, nope, your face is saying something,” Eddie insists.

“Honestly,” you sigh, playing with the small vegetables in your meager excuse for a salad, “it’s just stupid dance team stuff.”

You are quiet not wanting to say anything more, especially with the Hellfire Club sitting with you. Eddie sees how you crawl further into your silence and gestures for the club to leave. The influence he has over them is formidable and you smile as you lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. A warm feeling of gratitude fills you as he presses his arms to lean forward over the table, ready to listen to whatever you choose to say.

“Kelly’s just being stupid and vapid—,” you begin with a sigh. “Do you even really care?”

“I mean don’t care much about her,” Eddie grimaces, “but it’s bothering you, so—”

“Ugh, it’s honestly just stupid high school shit,” you try to shake it off with a laugh. “What’s up with Dustin? I saw him shaking and shoving you earlier?”

“The boy has no idea of the nuances of being a fifth-year senior,” Eddie quips, “just a child trying to exist in the world of men. Freshmen, am I right?”

“That’s super generous of you to take him under your wing,” you add jokingly, feeling a little more relaxed.

“I know, right?” Eddie pauses for a moment as though he is deep in thought. “Hey, I’ve got a request to ask of you.”

“Lay it down on me,” you say, holding your palms up to beckon an answer.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Eddie tilts his head and raises a suggestive eyebrow at you.

“Perve,” you respond by swatting him lightly on the forearm when you realize the double entendre of the phrase.

He devolves into a cackle but is able to compose himself enough to return to the conversation.

“But in all seriousness, I’ve got a gig with my band late on Friday,” he pauses to take a breath, “would you come?”

“You forgot,” you whisper, something like disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach, “Eddie, it’s a big night on Friday, remember?”

“Shit, the championship, that’s right,” Eddie groans with the realization of a memory, “I’m supposed to be there, you already asked—because of your dance.”

“No, I got it,” you say, trying and failing to hide your disappointment. ”It’s ok if you can’t.”

What unsettles you even more is just how upset you are about it. Your dad isn’t going. Your dance team is already going to be there. The prospect of Eddie not going gnaws at you…hard. You barely have time to swim in the thought when Eddie taps your hand lightly with his and offers you a grin.

“Hey, I said I would be there so I’ll be there.” He assures you. “Might have to check out a little early, but I’ll be there. I get it if you can’t make it to the gig, though.”

“Shut up, Eddie,” you tap his hand much in the same way he had yours, “I may be a little late, but of course I’ll be there.”

***

The effervescent excitement seems to grow this Friday night with each passing minute that the Hawkins Tigers play. The team is ahead by just two points and every student, teacher, and parent in the stands claps, hoots, and hollers.

When halftime comes, you’re inexplicably nervous. Kelly can see it and she takes a hold of your hand with a determined but also reassuring smile.

“We’ve got this!”

You pace in a small bubble on the sidelines as you wait for the lights to lower and the musical cue to start. At the same time, you’re scanning through the crowded stands looking for Eddie. Your heart sinks when you can’t see him right away. It should be easy enough to spot him, you think, distracted enough to nearly jump in surprise when you feel a pair of hands gently pull you at your waist.

“Hey, big city girl!” It’s loud but he’s pulled you in close enough to say it near your ear.

You spin around and see the touch belongs to Eddie. On instinct you leap forward and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. It doesn’t happen immediately but you feel a warmth percolate in you when Eddie’s hands roam from your shoulders back down to your waist.

At nearly the same time both of you back away from each other and hold each other’s gaze for the briefest of moments. It puts you in a near panic. You’ve always known how to act around Eddie, but in an instant it almost all goes away. You push him towards the stands with a playful smile. He winks at you before finding a seat in the stands.

“Told you he has it down bad.”

You wave her off, keeping your focus on the energy of the game. The beat of the marching band, the noise in the crowd, and the excitement that Hawkins is only fifteen minutes away from possibly winning the championship fuels you as you dance. You and your team are perfectly in unison with every flip, turn, and jump. You do your best to keep your focus on the choreography but can’t help looking up in the stands every now then to see that Eddie’s eyes have not moved once from you. It makes you want to move more and better, playing up every flirty kick, every swing of your hips, and whip of your hair. And faster than it began, halftime is over. The crowd is roaring at the routine’s end and your team and other friends from the marching band surround you with hugs and high fives for a job well done. Your eyes hone in on Eddie who gives you a wave of his hand and a slight bow of his head. He runs and hops down the bleachers and you push past some of your teammates to get to him.

“That was badass,” Eddie exclaims as he sticks his tongue out, “as close to metal as dance can be.”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll take it,” you say as you raise your hand to meet his in a high five.

You place your hand on his shoulder and smooth it down the back of his jacket, rubbing his back. You didn’t realize how grateful you would feel that he actually showed up. His hand finds the small of your back, finding rest there. A tingling feeling that starts in your stomach takes you by surprise as it grows and makes your heart flutter

“Thank you for coming,” he squeezes your waist as you say it.

For a moment, you lean forward, bringing your face closer to his.

No. Don’t do it! What are you doing?

It’s what your voice screams at you inside your head. You swallow the feeling and smile at him, hoping you weren’t being as obvious as you feel you are.

“See you at the gig?” He sounds hesitant to leave, but you encourage him, ensuring him you will be there with a squeeze of his hand.

Instead of watching the rest of the game, you’re showering and getting dressed in the locker room. By the time you’re done you can hear the roar of the crowd: a clear indication that Hawkins has won the championship. Kelly rushes in as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Oh my gosh!” She squeaks with excitement. “Where have you been?! You practically missed the entire second half!”

“Um, well, I promised Eddie I’d go to his gig.”

She looks at you up and down. Her perusal of you is especially scrutinizing. You pull at the shoulders of your black off the shoulder to and smooth your mini skirt before putting on your slouchy boots.

“You’re telling me that you’d rather watch a loser who’s repeating his senior year play with his mediocre band than hang out with us? You know there’s going to be a party.” She scoffs in disbelief. “How you are so popular is beyond me.”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s ‘cause I’m nice,” you answer. “You should try it some time.”

She rolls her eyes and you think she has nothing more to say so you gather your things to leave.

“You like him, don’t you?” She says it like it’s an accusation of a crime.

You stop at the door and take a deep breath. It feels like a relief when she says it.

“Maybe I do.”

You shrug and walk out the door, whatever celebrations that Hawkins bathes in, you know it’s not for you.

***

You pull your sedan up to a questionable looking bar and see Eddie’s van parked off to the side. It’s a different kind of grime than what you’re used to in New York. As you walk in you are hit instantly with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. There are a few scattered patrons passively listening to Corroded Coffin. Eddie’s back is to you, when he turns around, he’s holding a guitar pick in his mouth and his eyes brighten when he sees you. Your breath hitches when you look up at him on stage. The jeans he’s wearing are tighter than usual, as is his shirt. Your eyes can’t help but traverse his body from head to toe. There is a presence when he holds his guitar that you’ve not had the pleasure of beholding. He kneels at the edge of the stage and smiles, his dimple appearing like a cherry on top of a sundae.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve got a lot of nerve sweetheart,” his brown eyes sparkle as he smiles and looks at you up and down, “showing up to my show looking like that. Especially if you don’t mean it for me.”

Eddie and you have always skirted that flirting line. But tonight, even since the game, you can just feel the way he looks at you and the way he talks to you is just different. You lean forward at the edge of the stage and Eddie’s eyes travel so obviously over every curve of your body once again. You like it. You like the way he sees you. And more than anything, you like the feeling of wanting him.

“Come here,” you beckon him to come closer with a curl of your finger. “Who else would I do it for?”

He melts forward and you tug at the collar of his leather jacket, pressing your lips to his. He stumbles at first, not expecting for you to be so bold. But it doesn’t take long for him to part your lips with his tongue. You squeeze his face with your hand as you devour his supple lips in a long, messy kiss.

“Unexpected,” he murmurs after you let go of one another’s lips, “and even better than I imagined.”

You caress his face and use your thumb to wipe off a bit of your rosy-colored lip gloss that transferred to his lips from yours.

“Your lips are soft,” you sigh as you take in every feature of his handsome face and imprint it on your brain.

“Hey, don’t say that too loud, I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” he teases.

You shrug playfully and he shakes his head at you when he stands up. He pushes his guitar forward and keeps his eyes on you as he makes a few loud strums of his guitar. You barely pay attention to the lead singer as he announces whatever song they are going to play next. The amplified sound of the drums, bass, the rhythm guitar, and Eddie on lead guitar vibrates in your blood. You don’t even know how many songs they’ve been playing. It’s impossible to take your eyes off Eddie. The way his fingers move up and down the frets of his guitar simultaneously hypnotizes and awakens something deep inside you. You press your lips together, nearly biting your bottom lip as you stifle back a moan.

And he knows. He knows you’re watching him and wanting him. So, he taunts you by turning the neck of his guitar right at you. You give it back in the only way you know how at this moment: you play with your necklace, caress your bare collar bone, and draw your fingers down to your décolletage.

The band breaks for a moment and you watch as Eddie grabs a bottle of water on a stool at the back of the stage. The way his lips wrap around the mouth of the water bottle while keeping his eyes on you is obscene. A bit of water drips on his lips down to his chin where he wipes it away with a swipe of his thumb. You hold back another moan and hear the lead singer say something about playing a Black Sabbath song for their final encore. No Stranger to Love. It’s a favorite of Eddie’s. He plays the guitar solo as though it’s an extension of himself, his fingers pressing, gliding, and flicking at the strings. It has you quivering and dreaming about what his fingers would be like on and in you.

You find your way to a dark corner away from the stage as Eddie lingers there unplugging his guitar from the amp before placing it gingerly in its case. From your peripheral you see some young women eyeing him from another corner of the bar. He doesn’t even notice them as he hops down from the stage straight to you.

There is no judgement here as you pull Eddie to you by his belt loops. His full lips curl into an amorous smirk as he wraps his strong, large hands around your waist until they settle firmly on your ass. He acts like it’s his mission to drive you crazy. Your eyes do a cautionary sweep of the bar and when you see no one is watching you, you pull him with you into the ladies’ bathroom and lock the door behind you.

“Oh wow, it’s cleaner in here than the guy’s bathroom,” he notices before you back him into the wall, eliciting a carnal moan. “Fuck, woman.”

You silence him with a kiss and you bite his lips as you push his leather jacket off him and onto the floor. He squats a little and lifts and spins you until your back is against the wall.

“Tell me what you want,” he growls before kissing and nipping at your neck and ear.

His hands move all over your body from your ass, to your waist, through your hair as he devours your lips with his. A breathless moan escapes you as you try to get your brain to work so you can answer.

“Let me feel what your fingers can do, please…Eddie,” you whine, not caring how desperate you sound.

“Take off your panties,” he demands and it feels as though you can’t comply fast enough.

They settle beneath you on the floor as Eddie pushes your legs out wide and lifts up your skirt so his fingers can find your mound. His touches are slow at first tapping and pressing on your outer folds like they’re the frets of his guitar. And then it happens: he pushes one finger in and you gasp and keep your eyes on him, until you’re gasping again when he pushes in a second one.

“You are already so wet for me.” He moans into your ear and then forces you to keep your eyes on him.

You adjust to the thickness of his fingers and clench around them as he pushes them faster and faster inside you. His fingers find your clit and at first swipe of it, you cry out and grasp his arm to keep yourself from collapsing from the pleasure.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie coaxes as you press your face to his, as he continues his ministrations: flicking, swirling, and rubbing your sensitive bud. “Come for me.”

New sounds bleed through the door. Another is band playing and you’re grateful for it. You can be a little louder. He feels too good to keep silent. He continues whispering in your ear to come, come, and come again. You nearly collapse on him when you do and you still muffle your moan by burying your face into his shoulder.

“Jesus,” you say with a sigh before you kiss him again.

He envelops you with his arms and you lean against him, your mini skirt still riding up. He pushes his hips towards you and you can feel his manhood straining against his jeans. It’s pulsing like a heartbeat against your thigh and you writhe against him as your center beats in response.

“I need you,” you moan into his ear. “Take it out.”

“Jesus, am I dreaming?” Eddie exhales as you cup your hand over his jeans. “Are you really sure?”

“It’s not my first rodeo, baby,” you whisper to him, licking and kissing his neck to his jaw and back to his lips.

“I don’t have a c—,” he stutters as you unbutton the top of his jeans.

“Don’t need it, I’m protected,” you assure him. “Please…Eddie.”

The sound of him unzipping and dropping his jeans to his ankles is almost as good as his guitar solo. You look down at him: uncut, slightly longer than average, and the perfect girth. He pushes forward and lifts your right leg high so your knee wraps around his waist. With a steady hand he lines himself up at your slick folds, giving you barely enough to think before he pushes deep inside you. All that leaves your lips is a wanton moan as he pushes you against the wall to leverage you a little higher. His hips rock slowly into you at first, like the crescendo of a guitar solo. His cock throbs and twitches with each thrust and you can’t help but squeeze him tight inside you. The breaths you both inhale and exhale, grow faster with the heat of your sex. He thrust faster, faster, and faster still as the sheer euphoria starts to take over you both.

“Oh shit, baby,” he groans as his thrusts become more desperate.

“Eddie!!” You whine as you bounce on his cock, wrapping your arms desperately around his shoulders and back digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. “Oh fu-fuck.”

He drives into you as hard as he can, his mouth dropping open as your pussy gives his cock one final squeeze. You let out one final cry when he spills into you, shaking and trembling with you in your final climax.

He stays inside you for a few moments and lets out a bittersweet gasp when he pulls out. He pulls up his underwear and pants, tucking his cock in still slick with you. He picks your panties off the floor and helps you back into them. But before he pulls them completely up, he traces the outside your folds pushing his cum even deeper inside. You let out a sensitive whimper and lean against him with one arm until he finally pulls your underwear up all the way.

“I want you to feel my cum in your panties when we walk out of here,” he growls.

You respond with an exhale and a smile before giving him another long, deep kiss. You smooth your skirt the best you can. When you see yourself in the mirror, you do what you can to comb your fingers through your wild hair and attempt to hide how blissed out you look. Eddie is putting his leather jacket back on and comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and he leans his head towards yours.

“Beautiful, popular, talented, and kind,” Eddie whispers as he squeezes you even tighter before kissing you on the cheek, “What will everyone think if they find out you’re sleeping with Eddie Munson?”

You turn around and tug at the collar of his leather jacket.

“I wouldn’t exactly call that sleeping.”

His laugh rings out in his signature raspy, cackle you find so endearing. It’s so infectious you have to kiss him again.

“And besides, since when have I ever cared about what anyone ever thought about me or who I’m dating?”

“Well, that’s my girl in a nutshell, isn’t it?” Eddie confirms with a gleam of pride in his eyes.

“Only if it’s your nutshell.”

He can’t hold back the laughter and neither can you. After you are able to compose yourself, you hold a hand out and Eddie takes it. He laces his fingers between yours and you unlock the door to the bathroom. An ease settles over you as you open it. If there were any eyes of judgement on the other side, you know that you and Eddie will face it together.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn fandom

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 9 months ago

Text

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

#[ ooc ]#[ ESSAY WARNING ]#tadc ragatha

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scenesniper · 10 months ago

Note

Hello hello, good day to you! If you don't mind may I request general headcanons for Matthias? (I got attached to him pretty quickly after multiple successful kites)

Tysm!

☆ matthias czernin ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / matthias czernin x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / mention of blowjobs, finger fucking, tit fucking, dry humping

word count / 1,005 words

author's note / thank you anon, i'm having a good day i hope you are as well! i've been meaning to write about matthias for awhile (really, he's been in my drafts for a month now) so getting this request made me more motivated to finish.

SFW

☆ ”welcome, to the outstanding show..” a human so stiff as if he’s a puppet, he could easily be mistaken as one indeed. if there was no puppet in sigh, there’d be no telling that he was truly the puppeteer in charge.

☆ matthias czernin, a gloomy man with his drooped eyes that’d have mothers clutching their children’s shoulders as they walk past by him in the street, whispering, ”don’t look at him..” he looks almost unremarkable at first glance but if not for that burnt side of his.

☆ he’s not one to talk much, his expression seemingly to wander elsewhere and his eyes looking downwards. he’s one that lacks self confidence and self respect but oh, he so badly wants a sense of normalcy in this life. a mundane life.

☆ his uncertainty and hesitance towards commitment is clear, even after developing a relationship firsthand. he’s riddled with insecurities but god, does he love the idea of pursuing a romantic relationship. something that he’s lacked his entire life. he’d like it if you could meet him, outside of his family, his personal life. outside of ever meeting louis.

☆ matthias would certainly be lacking in the romantic field but he’d be a romantic at heart, albeit shy and very discreetly. fleeting, hidden touches of your hands in the dark or under covers. he’s not one to necessarily initiate, nor really enraptured with physical touch. however, he’d notice there’d be days where he would miss you and your touch.

☆ conversations with matthias would be with substance. he’s not a big fan on small talk, something that he’s always not been the best at. however, he’d always try his best to engage in it, only for you really.

☆ he would love to take you out, even if it’s a small outing. any moment with you is more than enough to him, a fleeting moment of you is everything to him. just to get away from his past, future, present.

☆ kissing with matthias can and could be awkward, he’s not experienced whatsoever and it’s more of a small and fast peck. but when it’s those days, when he’s completely so infatuated and need you ever so badly, he’d take you like a crazed man. it’s messy, sloppy and horrible, but you can feel those porcelain lips of his on you and really, that’s all that matters in that moment.

NSFW

☆ overtime, he would get confident on himself and those brief periods of yearning would turn into makeout sessions, him struggling to take off his layers of clothing and him gently pushing you on his bed, the sight of you all laid out for him.

☆ he’s hasty each and every time with you, not knowing where to look or how to act when he sees your naked sight. he’s embarrassed and feels as though he’s committing a great sin just having this view all to himself. but that turns him on even more.

☆ matthias czernin in bed is much more confident in both his personality and ability during bed, as if a switch is being turned on. he loves to take the reigns, to finally have some sense of control in his life. he’s slow and serious.

☆ he loves you giving him blowjobs, guiding you by your hair and pulling and tugging. those sounds of gagging that’ll come out of you and that feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, he can’t last as long as he likes. rather than cumming inside of your mouth, he much prefers it if he cum outside of it as he doesn’t like how disrespectful it could be.

☆ matthias is someone that’s attentive. he’ll have his hands all around you as if you’re a doll, occasionally touching you in places just to get any elicit response. whether it’s him rubbing your nipples, playing with your clit and shoving his fingers deep in you. oh, how he loves the sight of his fingers deep in your womb. “you’re almost taking it all in..”

☆ he’s very sensitive in every part of his cock but especially the area hidden and lifted up from his foreskin. tease his foreskin, tease him and graze your lips. that just absolutely drives him crazy.

☆ he wants to hear your every sound, something that reassures him that he’s doing good. he’s very vocal but tries to shield it (which he really isn’t good at, at all). the sight of you burying your head in your pillow while he’s balls deep in you, is a sight that’s practically ingrained in his mind every second of the day.

☆ he has a boob and ass fixation, his hands are always on it or nearing those areas. whether it’s him licking your entire nipples, squeezing, or even tit fucking (no matter the size).

☆ he loves clothed humping, the feeling of friction. he could do foreplay for as long as possible, pinching your nipples through your clothes, his clothed cock poking you from behind and his other hand splayed around your entire stomach. he's absolutely in love with the sight of his rubbing cock on you as you’re clothed.

☆ his most certain favorite position is cowgirl. however, he’s very insecure of his “ghastly” appearance. he’d sometimes raise his hands near his face as if it’s out of habit to conceal himself.

☆ reassure him by putting his hands down, kissing each and every part of those “imperfections”, people would call him as they jab. praise him for his beauty and all that he is. he truly needs it. to return those affections, he loves to put his hands on your face. his thumb grazing your cheek and nearing your eye.

☆ aftercare with matthias would always be one with a bath drawn. he loves to feel and be clean. he’d love to help you dry your hair and you helping him with his afterwards. something about it just seems so.. domestic to him. it’s a heartwarming comfort to him.

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haveateadude · 1 year ago

Text

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #mental health awareness #ellie williams x y/n #wlw #lesbian #depression awarness #idk what is this #fic #emwrites ; ⋆

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