#*or a never ending chant of ‘I’m so normal I’m so normal I’m so normal I’m being very normal I’m the most normal I’m so norm—‘*

[radioscientist]

[sp0o0kylights]

Eyes wide, body frigid in terror, Eddie felt the sheer horror of the current situation sank in. 

He was at Gen Con. 

In their hotel.

With zero vacant rooms and one minor, Henderson created, screw up.

The room only had one bed in it. 

“It’s fine, we can share.” Steve said, brushing past.

Like this was not the life ending, earth shattering, soul rendering issue that it was.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Eddie croaked trying to remember how a normal person acted instead of someone whose stomach had just fallen out of their ass. 

“Nah, I did this all the time with the basketball team.” Steve said as Eddie actively regretted every single decision that had led to this point in his life.

“Hell this is even a king sized bed. We have plenty of space!” 

Steve did a goofy little spin jump, landing butt first on the bed and bouncing on it with glee. 

“Space, sure.” Eddie echoed. 

Hands shaking, eyes determinedly focused on anything but the ex-jock, Eddie found himself chanting a mantra over and over in his head.

One that would valiantly get him through the next weekend, God and D20's willing.

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

“I don’t have cooties, if that's what you're worried about.”” Steve waggled his eyebrows. "Here,  I’ll even let you have one of my pillows.”  

Said pillow was flung through the air, to smack Eddie dead in the face. 

'Fuck it." Eddie thought wildly. "I am NOT fine!'

And after Eddie got his hands on him, Dustin Henderson wouldn't be either.

xXx

“I am going to kill you.” Eddie snarled, the very second he could get Dustin alone.

“No you won’t, you love me too much.” Henderson dismissed, a smug little smirk in place. 

The absolute brat. 

“I do not, and if I did, I would take it back after this.” Eddie glanced around once again, beyond paranoid about discussing this in the open parking lot of a shitty hotel, but knowing he needed to get this under control, now. 

“What were you thinking!?” 

“That I read a really interesting zine about this exact scenario, mostly.” Dustin shrugged. “Worked out great for them, I thought I’d try it for you!” 

Eddie groaned, head flying back as he fisted both hands in his hair.

(if only to prevent himself from wrapping both hands around Dustin’s stupid throat.) 

“What did I tell you? This isn’t something you fuck with man!” 

“I know, but as I told you, Steve is perfect!” Dustin protested, and didn’t even have the decency to flinch when Eddie lost control and grabbed him by the collar. 

“Perfect!?” He sputtered, actually sputtered, shaking the fist that held Dustin's shirt captive. “Perfect!?” 

“Trust me on this--you have a crush on him, he desperately needs someone in his life--seriously, Eddie, it’s sad how he acts when he’s not dating--and you guys get along great now! What’s the problem!?”

“He’s straight!” Eddie shrieked, startling several onlookers. 

“Laced!” He added immediately after, in panicked afterthought. “He’s so straight laced we could never get him to agree to that plan!” 

Dustin leveled an unimpressed look at him. 

“Dude, really?”

“We are still in Indiana, Henderson.” Eddie said, then got close enough that he felt comfortable hissing the next part through clenched teeth.

“They don’t exactly care for the queers here, even at a place like this.” 

“Are you sure? Because the Con’s welcome packet has a few different panels that--”

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, letting go of his idiot, freshman friend's shirt to grab at his hair again. 

“Henderson, for once,” He pleaded, and maybe it was the sheer desperation in his tone or how upset he looked but either way Dustin seemed to finally realize how serious he was.

“just once, I need you to listen to me. You cannot let Steve know I’m gay. This is something that has to stay between us, especially now I’m sharing a bed with him.” 

Which Dustin knew, because Dustin was the one who’d called and changed the room. 

“But Steve’s--”

“Most likely bisexual, I heard you the first several times you said it, but you can’t just--assume that about someone!” Eddie was well and good on a rant now, two seconds away from pacing about. “Even if you’ve been to a salon with them!” 

He pointed firmly at Dustin’s stupid face (and the kid's equally stupid mouth) before he could once again insist Steve was into men purely based on how anal he was about his hair.

“Steve might be cool with--other people,” Eddie was unsure of who knew what about Robin, and was not about to hand Dustin another secret given how he was acting about this one, “but that does not mean he will be cool with me--or you, pimping him out, to me!” 

“I’m not pimping him out!” Offended, Dustin patted at his shirt where Eddie had previously been holding it. “Look I’m sorry, but--”

Eddie groaned, loud and dramatic. 

“But,” Dustin doubled down, “You trusted me with the whole, you know.” He waved his hands in some sort of vague, unreadable gesture. “Can’t you trust me about this?”

“I didn’t trust you with that, you barged into my room and then dug around my closet insisting your character notes got mixed in with mine when I was hi-sleeping!--and then read something personal!” 

The snort he got in return let him know Dustin was well aware he’d been high as hell, but that was neither here nor there, given what had happened after. 

When Dustin, rifling through Eddie’s closet, came across one of Eddie’s private notebooks. 

The ones that contained equally private stories, penned by Eddie's hand.

One of which might have had characters--who did not sound like Steve, thank you,-- and definitely not paired with a character based on Eddie himself. 

(“So Sir Sylvan Harrachtáin and Edwin Morningson are random names you pulled out of your ass, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Sir Sylvan with his great hair and--what’s this? A horse named…Beamer?”

“Henderson so help me--” ) 

It may have led to the two of them growing closer instead of Eddie getting chased out of town with pitchforks, but that hadn’t stopped the sheer panic it had caused when he realized just what it was Dustin was reading. 

“Potato, tomato.” The little shit dismissed, and Eddie felt the urge to strangle him return in full force. “Look I get it--I promised I wouldn’t tell and I keep my promises. But since there aren’t any other rooms in our inn…”

Eddie looked at the sky, because if he saw the little dipshit wiggle his eyebrows in relation to himself and Steve Harrington, his new friend, who baked cookies with Jeff and once helped Grant jump his car, Eddie was going to lose his mind.

Loudly, and with much fanfare. 

“You owe me. Big time.” He declared to the clouds. 

He pretended not to hear the sigh that got him, either. 

“If you so say. Now can we go to the convention?" A whine crept into Henderson's voice. "Steve’s going to think we’re fighting.”

"Fine.” Eddie finally lowered his head to glare Dustin dead in the eyes.

“But to make my ire clear, Henderson? That magic sword your dwarf just acquired is gone. Disappeared. Vanished like a puff of smoke."

He made a ‘proof’ noise, hands spreading out as he did it. 

Dustin’s jaw dropped.

“What!? Eddie--” 

“Nope.

“Edd-iieeeee--”

“I’m not listening.” He plunged both fingers in his ears, walking determinedly towards one of the other three hotel rooms Hellfire had crammed themselves in. 

Wished desperately that he could manage to swap beds with Jeff, or Grant, or someone without making Steve feel like shit--which it would, because Eddie knew things like that about Steve now.

Behind him Dustin rampaged, which at least, made Eddie a little happier.

xXx

“We can switch rooms.” 

“What?” Eddie asked, startled out of his present thoughts (and the giant pile of D&D related papers spread in a circle around him.)

He turned to look up at Steve, who was hovering awkwardly behind him.

“You’ve been weird ever since you realized we’re sharing a bed. If it’s making you that uncomfortable we can just switch.” He shrugged, like saying that didn’t hurt him, even as the kicked puppy look holding court on his face very much screamed ‘emotional damage.’

"I have not!” Eddie twisted himself around immediately. "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"

Steve frowned down at him. 

“Eddie, this is the longest conversation I’ve had with you since we got here." Steve deadpanned. "I’d blame that on the whole, you know, nerd herd gathering, but it’s pretty clear that’s not it. I watched you literally turn around and walk the other way when you spotted me earlier." 

Shit.

"It's kinda obvious you're avoiding me." 

Shit, shit, shit!

“I'm not, promise!" Eddie lied. "I’m just--distracted. There’s just so much happening and it’s--a lot.”

He said it like the con was overwhelming, and not chaos he was positively thriving in. 

Steve searched his face.

“Alright," He said doubtfully, "but I mean it. Say the word and we can switch. I'm sure Jeff'll let me share a blanket or something."

Which was the last thing anybody needed, on grounds that Jeff would try and fix things.

(Jeff, bless him, had never been good at fixing things.)

Drumming up every acting skill he possessed, Eddie flashed two thumbs up in response, painting a fat grin on his face.

“We're all good Stevie. Besides, I’m going to be up late at so many panels, you won’t even notice me coming back. You're practically gonna have the room to yourself!"

Because that was exactly what he was planning on doing, the second he realized the convention itself could provide a nice, neat little way out in the form of two different late night panels.

Who needed sleep anyway? Not him!

"Okay." Steve said, somewhat mollified.

Crisis averted, Eddie dove back into his plans, distracting himself as best he could while trying to ignore that Steve had dropped onto the bed.

(One of those plans might have involved revenge on Henderson, and that one he gave special attention to.)

xXx

There were no late nigh panels.

“Not until tomorrow, my friend!” The jovial guy dressed in what Eddie was pretty sure was supposed to be a wizard costume told him. “We had a few but the folks running them got stuck in traffic, so we had to cancel."

He beamed, like he hadn’t just disintegrated Eddie's one and only escape plan.

"Besides, if you go to sleep now you can catch some of the early morning panels!”

As if he hadn't planned on rolling into them anyway, lack of sleep be damned.

“Can we go back now?” Gareth grumped to his right, the only person who’d agreed to stay out all night with him (and who was not a 14 year old who’d been overruled by Harrington.) 

"We could go find a room party?" Eddie hedged instead, as they made their retreat.

"Dude."

"Fine," He muttered, defeated. "We can go back."

To Steve. 

And the single bed. 

In his head, he plotted out Henderson's death.

Maybe he'd use fire.

Or sticks, or even a fricken--toy horse, or something...

xXx

He'd done it.

Changed into the oversized shirt he called sleep clothes, and crawled into bed like a completely normal, totally straight human being.

Had even done a remarkable job of laying perfectly still. Exactly how a normal, not panicking person slept!

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

Steve was laying next to him.

He had to of course, that's how a bed worked, and yet somehow, Eddie couldn't get past it.

Or the fact that the dick wasn't wearing a shirt to bed.

His thoughts chased each other in nervous little circles, anxiety gnawing on his gut like a favored bone as Eddie did his best not to move one single inch.

Pity that the thing about attending a large convention, was the sheer amount of walking, talking, and expending general energy one had to do.

Entirely against his will, Eddie fell asleep. 

He had been planning on laying awake in frigid terror all night, to prevent any possible way Steve might clock him, but his body had other plans.

Some of which involved sleeping like Eddie normally slept--arms hugging a pillow, head buried in it's soft, comfortable, kinda ticklish surface.

He rubbed his nose further into it as the tickling sensation increased, pulling him away from the sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into.

Grumbling, Eddie went to adjust his stupid pillow when he had the weirdest realization that it too, was moving.

Pillows, his sleep addled brain informed him, did not move.

Steve would, though.

"Fuck!" He screeched, flying up into a sitting position as he registered that he'd gone full octopus--cuddling Steve with all four limbs.

Steve flew awake, his own body flying up into a sitting position.

His mouth started moving a mile a minute, and it took Eddie a second to parse that Steve was still partially asleep as he let out a string of absolute nonsense about code reds and being upside down.

"Whoa!" Eddie said when the guy nearly fell out of bed. "Shit Steve, it's just me!"

"Eddie?" Steve asked, halfway out of bed. "Are we--is everything okay?"

"Yeah I--yeah." He grimaced, grabbing a strand of his hair and pulling it protectively over his face. "I think I woke you up."

"S'okay." Steve ran a hand through his hair, before slowly sinking back into the bed, alarm fading. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"

Eddie blew out a breath.

"Probably. It's fine, don't worry about it."

Steve eyed him doubtfully.

"If you're sure..."

Eddie gave him a wobbly smile back, patting the space on the bed next to him as he made himself lay back down. "Promise. I'm--I'm sorry, I guess maybe I should have slept elsewhere..."

That did it.

"You're good. Startled me is all." Steve let out a sort of forced chuckle before laying back down. "I overreacted."

Eddie hummed, not trusting himself to say anything as the two of them settled back down.

It did not escape him that unlike most people who'd been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, Steve didn't try to keep any distance between them.

No, he had to scoot closer, like he needed to know his friend was near. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes closed and prayed for death.

"I get nightmares too, sometimes." Steve admitted in the following quiet and oh, God, no, Eddie could not do an emotional late night talk right now.

"They definitely suck." He said flatly, before rolling over to face the opposing wall. "Night Stevie."

Steve snorted, but it sounded amused instead of hurt.

Eddie sighed quietly in relief as he too, turned away to face the wall.

He could do this. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up and fall asleep again, and everything would be...

Perfectly...

...fine.

xXx

"--ddie, you're on my arm man."

"Wha?"

"My arm." That was Steve, Eddie's brain dutifully identified as it crawled it's way to consciousness. Steve who was his friend now, and was also talking very close to his ear. 

"Also my leg. And torso."

"You have a nice torso." Eddie mumbled thoughtlessly. 

Why was Steve here? They were doing something that should have been stressing him out, was stressing him out, but it was hard to think when he was this tired.

"Thanks," Amusement threaded it's way through Steve's voice, "but I'm going numb here. You have a hell of a grip."

Eddie frowned, the words sludging through the fog, until finally, the dots connected.

Eyes opening wide, he carefully took stock of the position he once again found himself in--wrapped around Steve like the guy was the only life raft left.

Oh my God.

"Shit sorry--" Steve oof'ed as Eddie smacked an elbow into his ribs as he let the poor man go, madly scrambling to get as far away as possible.

He tried to apologize for that, but was too busy fighting the bedsheets to get anything out. 

"Eds." Steve laughed, grabbing him as Eddie tangled them both up. "Calm down."

"I'm calm!" He protested, far too loudly, limbs flying every which way as he tried in vein to get the fuck away.

Stupid sheets-!

"Eddie." Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, Steve having managed to get himself into a sitting position. "It's alright."

"It's not Steve." Eddie spat, and then panicked harder because fuck, that is not what he should have said.

"Hey, easy." Steve was talking quieter now, hands squeezing gently, like Eddie was some kind of spooked wild animal and fuck, he was really losing it here.

"I mean it. We're at the convention, remember? We're sharing a hotel room and you have a bunch of dorks and dumbass things to do in like, two hours."

Eddie violently shrugged him off.

"I know that!"

Steve, somehow, did not take offense to the very aggressive tone that had been snarled in. 

"Then you know you can breath for a moment. Seriously, you look like you're gonna pass out."

Which was probably true, given the rapid, rabbiting beat of his heart.

"Is this what you were worried about?" Steve added, as Eddie finally freed himself from the damn sheets. "That you have nightmares?"

“It's not nightmares.” Eddie spat instantly, chest heaving.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he was exhausted to the point where he wanted to cry about it.

God did being gay suck.

“Then--what? That you cuddle in your sleep?” Steve was teasing, Eddie knew Steve was teasing but that was too on the nose. “Dude trust me, Tommy was an octopus growing up. I don’t care.”

“No it’s not, that, exactly--”

"So what is it then, exactly?"

Too. Fucking. Close.

"Drop it Steve--"

Emotions rose like a tidal wave, all encompassing. Overwhelming. 

"I would if you weren't clearly upset about something--" 

He lost control. 

“I’m gay!” Eddie yelled.

Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, like he hadn’t just panicked himself out of the closet. 

It died. 

The crazy, huge emotions. The way he'd been fighting himself, tooth and nail, the panicked thoughts that were zooming around his brain.

“I didn’t say that.” He said, eyes wide.

Steve blinked.

“I mean, you kinda did.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Nope. No. I said, I said--”

“That you’re gay.” Steve finished, then frowned when Eddie flinched. “Dude it’s okay--”

“Is it, Steve!?” He interrupted, hand finally falling from his mouth. “Is it? Because if you ask half the people at this convention--who are my kind of people and understand I’m not shilling souls to satan--if it's okay!? They'd say no!"

Tears pressed against his eyes, a reaction he hated that he had.

"They'd say no, and then they'd try to kick my ass for sleeping in the same bed as them!" 

A tear escaped and he swiped angrily at it. 

“I’m okay with it.” Steve said quietly, which had the effect of making Eddie shut up. “And those people suck.” 

The laugh that escaped Eddie's mouth was brittle.

Bitter.

He turned his head away from Steve, angry that he’d gone and admitted the very thing he knew better than ever speaking aloud. 

“Yeah well, I didn't think you would be, given how you used to accuse anyone and everyone of being a queer loser right along with the rest of the basketball team.”

Which wasn't fair, exactly--Eddie knew Steve had changed. Had seen it in the way he and Robin talked quietly about Will, when they thought no one could overhear.

(A habit Eddie would break them of, if he and Steve made it out of here as friends, still.) 

He wasn't Will though, and Will wasn't the one presently sharing a bed with Steve.

“That’s because we were all making out with each other at away games.” It was said so fucking quick Eddie briefly thought he hallucinated it.

Lucky for him, Steve wasn't done. 

“Robin thinks that whole thing was some kind of group denial. Like if we made enough of a thing out of it we could all pretend we didn’t have our hands down each others pants all the time. I am not exactly on speaking terms with that group anymore.”

He shrugged like that his fall from grace hadn’t been the center of the rumor mill for most of his senior year, and came with a lot of shit talking at his expense.

“But I can still prove it to you, if you’d like.” 

Shock--and six million thoughts-- hit Eddie like a mack truck. 

‘You’re lying/No way/that makes so much fucking sense/how did that even start/was it every game/whose pants exactly did you have your hands down and how do you feel about my pants--’ 

“How?” Eddie got out, sounding only slightly strangled. 

“Well--you’re here. I’m here."

And then Steve gave him a smile Eddie had only ever seen aimed at women, a slow lazy curl of the mouth that implied a hell of a lot.

"I'm fine with making the math work."

Maybe he was dreaming this.

(Eddie pinched himself and found that somehow, he was not.)

“I realize I don’t look like it, but I don't the whole casual kissing thing." Eddie blurted out. "Hasn't exactly gone well for me."

He regretted it the second it left his mouth. 

That was sharing too much of himself. The vulnerable gooey part who'd kissed a few girls (and even, once, a guy) and found he couldn't for the life of him make such things casual.

Plus Steve was kind of a good friend now, and Eddie had a crush so big that doing this and then never doing it again would kill him, and--

(and, and, and…) 

“It can mean something if you’d like.”

What.

“What?” 

Eddie stared at him.

Steve stared back. 

“Steve Harrington." He said flatly. "Are you trying to get in my pants?”

‘I will rip them off right here and now if you are,’ He thought wildly, like he hadn’t just tried to die on some “it has to be meaningful” hill. 

(Sue him, he was a horny teenager who'd just learned sex might be on the table, he could change his mind.

It totally wouldn’t tear his heart apart after either!

Nope, not his, made of steel Eddie’s heart was--) 

Steve raised his hands in the “don’t shoot” pose, looking all too pleased with himself. 

“Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But,” and here he dropped the flirty little grin, which Eddie was only now realizing he was utilizing, “I meant it. I'm not opposed to trying this out, with you."

Trying? What the hell did that mean!?

Steve hadn't stopped talking.

"I won’t take it anywhere if you don’t want to though, don't worry.

Then he tilted his head and added; “I can also leave if that made you uncomfortable. Robin keeps telling me I can’t flirt with men like I flirt with women and--” 

“No.” Eddie’s mouth betrayed him yet again, terrified Steve might talk himself into leaving. “No--you offered!”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I did.”

“To have--” God Eddie couldn’t even say the words, “with me?” 

Somehow that last part came out as a question, and Eddie planned immediately to throw himself out of a window.

The grin was coming back. “Yes. With you.” 

“And it would…mean something?”

That was pushing it, Eddie knew that was pushing it, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.

This whole thing was now a runaway train and he'd ride it to it's inevitable wreck.

“For me it would.” Steve said, raising himself up on his knees. 

He inched forward, planting his hands down on the bed, face awfully close to Eddie’s own. 

“I don't like doing things anymore without it meaning something. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Besides, Robin's right."

"About?" Eddie asked, goin cross-eyed as Steve leaned ever so much closer.

"That when I say I admire you, or I miss you, or that I want to see you, I'm not exactly meaning it in a friend way."

Oh.

"Oh." Eddie said dumbly.

Steve closed the distance, mouth first. 

They were kissing.

Stars exploded in the sky. Fireworks went off outside, birds sang, people cheered--

(Eddie bit Steve’s lip, twice, in some sort of overexcited maneuver before he was gently guided into Steve’s lap, the ex-jock twisting to lay back down and bringing Eddie with him. 

It was smoothly done, a slow maneuver, and Eddie had to go and ruin that too by ripping his mouth off Steve’s to press sloppy kisses all down his neck. 

Thankfully Steve did not shove him off for that, or the hickie he definitely left on that stupid, tan neck, instead arranging them once again until things, finally, started to be less frantic. 

It was the best night of Eddie's life.)

xXx 

“So what does mean something involve, in this little situation we have here?” Eddie said some odd amount of time later, cuddled happily against a now naked Harrington. 

“I’m not supposed to say boyfriends.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. “Scares people off."

Apparently he was the type to need naps immediately after having the naked kind of fun. 

“Who the fuck told you that?” Eddie reached down, lacing their hands together tightly.

Steve kissed his shoulder. 

“We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.” He said, rather than responding directly.

“We can’t, Steve, or did you forget where we live?”

Another kiss, this one turning into a grin when it made Eddie shudder. 

“Oh we absolutely can. I’ll prove it to you. Next Friday?” 

It took him a moment--a stupidly long moment, for someone who prided himself as a wordsmith--but Eddie got it. 

A smile exploded over his face. 

“Next Friday." He said. "It’s a date.” 

(A very long time later, Henderson would find out about all this and gloat about this so hard he’d fall off the steps of Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie would only let him live on grounds that Steve was also there at the time, and was worried about Dustin’s ankle.

This did not stop Eddie from standing above the little shit, announcing karma would one day get him soon, and if not, than Max Mayfield, who absolutely could be bribed into committing murder.)

This was the bonus for Door Prize/Sugar, Spice (and Everything Dicey) which can be read in it's entirely here: LINK

[epiclamer]

Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!

My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!

Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!

Subtle

“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.

“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.

“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”

Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.

The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”

Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.

“Did you use antiseptic?”

“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.

“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”

They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.

“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.

Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.

Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.

“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.

The hero was always so full of surprises.

“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.

Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…

It was for their own good.

[cursed-peanut]

i love both of the ideas tbh, its interesting if reader saw sukunas different side, like she knew what he did but he never exposed her to that and treated her like a delicate flower, and all those years locked up she obviously missed him abd was blindsided but seeing him like this would absolutely ruin her and make HER feel guilty for supporting him at some point yk and he feels this but its like deeo in his heart hes chanting that he only wants to do this to be w reader

for gojo i think he'd get a little selfish and be like, shes so nice and sweet someone like sukuna will only hurt her, so maybe he badtalks sukuna and tries to make you stay w him but it pushes you awag

what really would be awesome is reader escaping to live a normal life

can i be 🍥 anon? :3

Thank you, I’m glad you like them both! And ofc you can be 🍥 anon :D I wanna say thank you for planting this into my brain and I will deffo explore Reader finding out who Sukuna truly is leading them to think of him as a monster, only seeing the amount of bloodshed he’s created for their ‘perfect’ future some more soon. It’s the perfect tooth rotting angst that kills my devious little soul in the best way possible :3

I also agree that once Gojo starts noticing that you’re questioning your love for Sukuna, he would use this to his advantage.

We all know Gojo isn’t some perfect saint, but Reader doesn’t know that. The only experience they’ve ever had with him is the Gojo who goes out of his way to keep them safe while simultaneously saving as many people as he can. This is a big difference to Sukuna who seemingly wants to kill everyone Reader has learnt to love and care for after being unsealed.

I think Gojo would start telling Reader things like “do you really want to stay with someone who’s killing all your friends?” And “what if one day he decides you’re not enough, so he kills you?” To try and convince Reader to stay with him and fall out of love with Sukuna.

Sukuna would go ballistic at this, how preposterous is that? Hurt you? However the more damage Sukuna does to the world, trying to prove his point, the more he pushes Reader right into Gojo’s arms, despite telling them he’s doing all of this for them.

But it could also be that Reader recognises who Sukuna is but still doesn’t want to be with Gojo, so they move out of Japan to a safer place. They want to start a new life without the control of Jujutsu Society scrutinising every move they make — despite their only affiliation being Sukuna’s ex-lover…

Or maybe Reader stays with Gojo but when Sukuna kills him, it convinced Reader they need to stay away from him. So they move out of Japan, away from Sukuna. Again, starting a new life, free of the weight of Jujutsu Society.

Both endings where Reader moves out of Japan, Sukuna would go truly insane. You were the soul reason for his plan and you up and left him. I could imagine an end of the world type thing where he gets so angry with the world for pushing you away, he completely destroys everything, and I mean everything. He kills everyone, including Reader, completely blinded by rage.

Once there’s nothing left to destroy and no one left to kill, he comes to terms with the fact he killed Reader and becomes disgusted with himself. He’s officially became the monster Reader thought he was. The only fair punishment he deems for himself is to live out the rest of his life on this bare planet, wallowing away in the pain he stupidly caused himself.

…Yummy angst 😋

[fluentmoviequoter]

currently thinking about dad!tim and him trying to get baby bradford to say dada or even mama as their first word but it doesn’t go planned and says something else maybe something that tim would say on a daily process and it takes him a while to process but is still so happy in the end

I've been thinking about it since you sent this request... Dad!Tim🤍

Here's a little blurb! Hope you enjoy! 0.6k+ words

“How was work?”

Tim ignores the question, heading for his baby's crib. After he picks up his son, pulling him to his chest, he answers, “Normal. Boots don’t listen.”

“Have they ever?”

“Boots will be boots I guess. New one didn’t even know who I was talking to when I said ‘boot.’”

“Cop’s life. Can’t say I’m jealous.”

“But I’m not a cop now, am I? I’m dada!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Da-da,” Tim says slowly. “You got it. Dada? What about ‘mama’? C’mon, buddy, you gotta say something. You’re a Bradford, B, make that first word count.”

The baby, nicknamed ‘B’ after Angela and Lucy decided ‘baby Bradford’ was too long, simply coos, reaching up toward Tim’s face. Tim smiles, extending his hand for his son to take. As B’s chubby fingers wrap around one of Tim’s, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“You know who I am? Dada. I’m Dada.”

B chuckles, and Tim can’t stop himself from joining. From the moment B was placed in his arms the first time, they’ve been nearly inseparable, and Tim can barely remember life before he was a father.

“You’d make me and your mama really happy,” Tim adds. “But if you say ‘dada’ first, we’re sticking together. We have to do that, or mom will tell me that you love her more, and that’s just not true.”

“D- b-“ B begins, trailing off as he grips Tim’s hand again, a gummy smile on his face.

“Yeah, you’re almost there, bud. Dada.”

Tim continues saying it, hoping he’ll repeat it. If ‘dada’ is his first word, Tim will never let anyone forget it.

“Talk to me,” Tim whispers.

“B- boot!” B says, giggling as Tim’s brows furrow.

“Boot?”

“Boot! Boot, boot,” B repeats.

“I- where’d you hear that?”

“Seriously, Tim?” Tim turns quickly at the sound of B’s mama’s voice. “Did he just say ‘boot’?”

“Uh- yeah, I think so.”

“Boot.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Boot,” B gurgles.

“You weren’t kidding!” Angela exclaims. “Of all the words you could’ve taught him, Timothy!”

“It wasn’t intentional, Lopez!”

“Has he said anything else?”

“No. Just that. I’m trying to get him to say anything else, and it’s not working.”

Tim and Angela look at the giggling baby in the car seat on Tim’s desk, crossing their arms as they both wonder how to introduce new vocabulary.

“What’s going on over here?” Lucy asks as she approaches. “Oh, hi, B!”

“Boot!”

“Did your kid just call me-“

“Yes,” Tim answers, as Angela says, “Don’t ask.”

“I need to ask.”

“Wait,” Tim begins. “I said it a lot. What else do I say enough that we could influence him to repeat?”

“Nothing appropriate for babies,” Angela answers.

“Uh, I have to agree,” Lucy says.

“I say ‘dada’ and ‘mama’ constantly, but he picks b- that word.”

“Boot.” Tim sighs before B says, “Mama.”

Angela grabs Tim’s arm, shaking him excitedly.

“Do not tell her that he said those back-to-back,” Tim demands.

B tries to say, ‘Love mama’ but it comes out like “wuv mah-mah.”

“You say that often?” Lucy asks, smiling.

“Someone loves mama,” Angela singsongs.

“Dada,” Tim says, watching his baby.

“Luv mama. Boot, boot, luv mama,” B chants, tapping his feet on the car seat.

“Just once? Please?” Tim begs, ignoring Angela and Lucy beside him.

“I think you’re just gonna have to wait,” Angela says, tapping his shoulder as she walks away.

“Good luck… boot,” Lucy calls.

“Tim, hi!” Mama greets, entering the station.

Tim takes a deep breath before saying, “He said mama.”

“He did?”

“And love.”

“No dada yet?”

“Dada love mama!” B exclaims, raising his arms to his mother.

Tim’s eyes widen as his smile grows. “B! That makes it better, buddy. I forgive you for saying ‘boot’ before ‘dada.’”

Hugging B gently, Tim opens his other arm. “It’s true. Dada loves mama.”

B giggles against Tim like he knows Tim is upset about the ‘boot’ incident. Tim can only hope he grows out of it.

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Syverson Part 2

I really didn't think I was going to finish writing this so soon but ya'll loved the first part! and I love writing this so here it is the final part with all the good stuff! Also it's 4 am and I probably should have proof read this. but I didn't. Iwas so excited to get it posted because You guys BLEW UP the first part so THANK YOU!!!

Warnings: SMUT at the end, Oral (m and f receiving), (p in v), lots of cusring in the end , so much praising because you know he would!!

Sy was in coach mode with the team as I looked over the sign in sheet and greeted the students that were traveling to watch the game. Most of the students were loaded onto the bus now. Thank God because I was so distracted by him. There was something about seeing him like this, he was so in charge and in control. He had their full attention and he never had to work to get it. He had those boys respect the first time he walked out to the field. But he earned it too. He was such a good coach. I loved listening to the way he spoke with them.

“Alright boys,” I listened as he pulled the team into a huddle before they got on the bus next to ours. “Listen first and foremost I want y’all to go out there and pay hard. That’s what we’ve been practicing. We’ve watched their tape. These guys are a little bigger than you but that doesn’t matter. We’re faster. You come at ‘em low and fast they’re gonna go down. Matt I need your eyes on that ball at all times man! We just about lost some points last week because of misdirection and we ain’t gonna let that happen again right?” 

“No, sir! I got you coach!”

“Atta boy! Derek, you keep throwing that ball like you’ve been in practice this week and we’ll be in good shape!” Derek just nodded. Sy smiled. “Alright, now boys I don’t want any messing around in the locker room. You go in, and be respectful, I want them talking about how great of character our team has just as much as they’re talking about how good we play, understood?”

“Yes coach!” The boys chanted in unison. 

“Alright, load up let’s go!” The boys started cheering. I smiled. I loved watching him with them. The way he got them all fired up. And he matched their energy. He was so adorable right now. Joking around with the boys and 

“Hey Miss Plummer!” right, I’m not a teenager watching my crush, I’m an adult, I have a job to do. 

“Hi Caitlyn! Are you ready for the game tonight?” I smiled at her. She was all decked out with the eye under eye black and Tyler's jersey number painted on her cheek in the school colors. She and a few of the other girls made t-shirts and were wearing them to support a few of the players they were friends with. 

“So ready!!” She squealed, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. She looked over toward the buses where the team was loading the bus with their equipment, where I had been staring off earlier. “He’s so cute isn’t he?” She said, I raised an eyebrow and smirked a little. 

“Are you excited to watch Tyler play?” I chuckled. 

“Yeah, But I meant coach Sy, are you two finally together? He totally likes you! Everyone knows it! And you two would be so cute together!! The students talk about it all the time. I mean you’re wearing his hoodie Miss Plummer!” Wow that girl talks fast. He likes… no. But if the students see it? Am I really that blind? He bought my dinner, He brings me coffee, he called me his work wife. But I’m not his body type. These things don’t happen. Are my insecurities really that deep rooted that I can’t take the advice I give my students? But still. When I was in school I remember rumors spreading about teachers seeing each other all the time and they usually…. Well actually. Now that I think about it. They normally ended up being true. Some of them were even scandals. I shook my head. 

“Slow down sweetheart,” I managed to let out a chuckle even though I kind of felt like I was having a crisis. “Coach Sy and I are friends, I’m just borrowing his sweatshirt because I didn’t have one. It’s sweet that you all care about us so much. I love that. I do. But well, that’s all it is, honey.” She nodded sadly. And looked back at the other bus and over at Sy. He caught us looking at him and smiled. 

“Miss Plummer,” She sighed exasperated, like me not understanding my own love life was exhausting for her.   “I don’t wanna over step but I overheard him and Mrs. Spencer talking. She came into his class at the end of the day Wednesday smiling and stuff. And like I wasn’t TRYING to eavesdrop but I heard them talk about you and I just couldn’t resist ya know? Anyway, she said she had this idea, she could back out of coming today so he could hang out with you and well…. Nevermind.” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Caitlyn, what have we said about gossiping?” I said. 

“Girl, It’s true though, that man’s got it bad for you Miss P.” I shook my head and smiled

“Get on the bus Caitlyn,”  

“Okay fine, But when you guys get married, can I be in the wedding?” I rolled my eyes. “Guess that’s a no.” She said and stepped on the bus. I looked over one last time. Sy was double checking something on his clipboard while the boys finished up. He looked up and we made eye contact. He winked and I blushed, giving him a little wave before I followed Caitlyn on to the bus. Things took off fast when we got to the other school. Sy took the boys straight to the locker room to gear up because we got a little stuck in traffic. Myself and the two other chaperones led the students to their section in the bleachers and about 15 minutes later we were at kick off. Sy was completely in his comfort zone out there. 

Our boys had the ball first. Sy had his couch voice on shouting a couple of corrections from the sidelines. The team made a good play but in the end the other boys were bigger and their defense was strong. We had to settle for three points instead of a touchdown. 

The whole first quarter of the game stayed that way. The boys managed to keep the other team out of the end zone. The start of the second quarter the other team had the ball. They made a play and when one of our boys Zach Owens went to tackle the player he lost his footing. It had rained earlier in the day and the  He slipped but still grabbed the player by the ankle. He got him down but he ended up at the bottom of a dog pile. Another player reached out to give Zach a hand to help him up, but he fell back immediately when he tried to stand. He was hurt. 

I immediately looked to Sy, I was on the first level of the bleachers standing against the railing. I was close enough to see him curse under his breath before running onto the field. The medic followed him out. I walked out to the sideline. Sy and the medic got Zach up but he couldn’t put any pressure on his left ankle. Everyone cheered for him while they walked him off the field. Poor kid was going to be out the rest of the game. 

“You’re gonna be alright man,” Sy said as they got him to the bench. “This guy’s gonna wrap that ankle and then you just chill here. Just breathe,” He clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to his place on the sidelines. The boys were starting the next play and already the other team scored a touchdown on us. I walked up to him hesitantly. He shouted something about tightening the defense. I jumped a little. I'd never been this close to him in coach mode. It was kinda hot though. What was I saying? I came up next to him brushing my shoulder against his.  He looked over and his shoulders relaxed a little and he smiled when he saw it was me. “Hey Sugar,”

“Is he gonna be okay?” I asked. He nodded. 

“Yeah, It’s not broken but he sprained it real good. He’s gonna be down at least a couple weeks. He’s our best tackle.” He sighed softly and his lips quirked up into a sad lopsided smile

“I know, that’s gonna kill us. But the boys can pull through. They’ve got you as a coach.” I smiled. He threw his arm around me and pulled me against his side squeezing my shoulder. 

“You’re so damn sweet,” he said. I blushed and turned into his shoulder to hide my face. “You’re freezing, darling,” He ran his hand up and down my arm for a minute “shit,” he mumbled. He pulled out a 10 dollar bill from his pocket “I told ya I pay for coffee tonight, meant to give this to you earlier.”  He looked down at me, his blue eyes briefly holding my gaze as he grinned. 

“Logan you don’t have to do that,” I said trying to push his hand away. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. 

“You say that an awful lot. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to. Now quit arguing with me and take it.” He narrowed his eyes at me and nodded down at the cash in his hand. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“You know, you can be a real diva when you don’t get you’re way.” I said taking it from him. 

“Are you complaining about free coffee?” He smirked and pulled me close to his side again keeping me warm. 

“No,” I chuckled softly. I looked back at the bleachers watching some of my kids for a second. A few of them were a little two close for comfort. “I’d better get back up there,” I said sadly. I really liked being next to him. 

“Yeah, I guess you should.” He left his arm around me a few seconds longer before he finally let me go. He was such a teddy bear sometimes. As I was making my way back to the bleachers I heard. A few of the boys on the team talking, 

“OOOOH Coach you look at you,” One of them said

“That was smooth. Can you teach me how to do that?” 

“You gonna be gettin some later coach.” The last one spoke. Logan’s voice was stern but still playful. 

“Y’all wanna match zach on the bench next week? I won’t hesitate. Watch it! What is that an extra 3 laps to the 5 you were already running on monday Tyler?” He smirked. 

“Damn Coach!! You Savage!” One of the other boys piped in. 

“You wanna join him, Jake?” He mused. 

“No Sir, I’m good!” He spoke quickly and I laughed to myself as I walked back up the bleachers. 

I sat with the students for a while breaking up a few young couples trying to get a little too close while they were away from mom and dad. I hated to be a buzzkill but they know the rules. 

Sy was back on high alert. At the start of the third quarter the boys were down by 10 points. They shouldn’t have been the refs missed and obvious penalty against the other team for shoving one of our guys. I was definitely part of the crowd that was screaming at that point. But right now Derek, our quarterback had gotten the boys down the field and they were set up for another touch down. They made the play. He threw a complete pass to tyler and they got the points! Every was cheering. With the extra kick good the boys only need one more touch down to get ahead. 

The rest of the quarter went by and then only 2 minutes left in the 4th quarter. The team was still down by 3 points. The clock was running out they had 45 seconds left we had the ball but we were only at the 40 yard line. We needed a miracle. But Sy taught our boys well. Derek found an opening and through a perfect pass down the field to Matt. The whole crowd was on their feet. He Caught the pass at the 20 yard line and ran the rest of the way down the field into the end zone with 10 seconds left. We got the touch down. The student section was shaking the bleachers jumping around. The game finished and we let the kids run down to wait by the gate to make  a tunnel for the team to run through. I walked down to the side lines to wait in a crowd of people to see the winning coach. 

While I looked over keeping an eye on the kids while they celebrated with the team. I held my coffe close to my chest too keep me and my hands warm. I loved seeing Sy like this. This is totally where he belonged. He looked famous talking with the other coaches and people asking him about what he was working on with the team. I over heard two ladies having a conversation a few feet infront of me.

“Their coach is so handsome,” The first one said. She was tall, Thin long blonde hair. Wearing some sporty leggings the looked super expensive and the other teams spirit wear.

“Oh I know! You think he’s single?” The other said she looked similar to the other woman but a little shorter and her hair was darker. 

“I don’t know I saw that lady with him earlier but, he’s gorgeous and well, I mean I don’t wanna sound rude but she seemed a little big to be his type.” The blonde said. 

“No I know what you mean when I saw him with his arm around here I was like… if that’s his wife… well he could’ve done better.” My heart dropped. I knew they were talking about me. I felt like I was going to be sick. I knew it. Everything, I’d always felt, every reason I told everyone they were wrong. These two just confirmed it. Logan would never see me as anything more than a friend. My insecurities just kept bubbling to the surface the way I felt about my body and what I’d worked on for years all came rushing back. I ran right passed them missing the shocked look on their faces. They hadn’t realized I’d been so close. It didn’t matter they were right. 

I didn’t hear him either. Excusing himself from the other men he’d been talking two and calling after me. I ran into the bathrooms locking the door behind me and took a deep breath. You’re not crying not here. You’re a big girl. Hold it in until you’re alone. I calmed myself down and took one last deep breath before walking back out. 

Logan was leaning on the wall outside the door waiting. 

“Hey Sugar, you alright? You looked like you were gonna be sick? Feeling okay?” Shit I didn’t even know he’d noticed me walk by. I nodded taking another deep breath and staring at the ground. 

“Yeah, just um, felt a little off for a second.” I said. “I’ll be alright. You’d better get back to the boys.” He put his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged him off. I looked up and saw the confused look in his eyes.

“I’m meeting the boys at the bus, it’s a late night so we’re headed straight back.” he stated. “You sure you’re okay sugar, why don’t you ride back with me, I can keep an eye on ya. And the boys wanna thank their good luck charm for being here.” he smiled. 

“No, I mean. No that’s sweet of them. And nice of you to offer but. It’s not fair to the others. I said I’d chaperone I can’t just leave them short like that.” I said. 

“They won’t be Carol will be …”he paused and groaned.

“What do you mean Carol will be there? She couldn’t come tonight.” I was confused now. 

“Damnit this isn’t how I wanted to do this. She was always going to be here. Uh she was helping me out… with…” 

“Caitlyn was right,” I cut him off. 

“I thought she was listening,” He chuckled and shook his head. “She told ya huh? Well cats out of the bag then, I uh,” He laughed and let out a shaky breath rubbing the back of his neck. “I really like you Darlin’, I have for a while.” He smiled sheepishly and bit his lip. My hands were shaking and all of a sudden I felt sick again. This is what I’d always wanted but I didn’t feel real. I couldn’t be here right now. Surely there was a punchline waiting there always was. This was a joke right. Those women from earlier are right around the corner somewhere recording. How could I be so stupid. I shook my head. Tears were welling up in my eyes. 

“I, I have to go, they’re gonna need my help loading the buses.” I said and ran past him toward the parking lot. He called after me but I kept walking. When I got to the parking lot only one of our buses was still there. I let out a slow breath and then sighed. “God I’m a fucking idiot,” I groaned. 

“I uh.. Sent the other bus ahead” I heard Sy say from behind me. I stood there for a second quietly and then just nodded. “Wait here, I gotta talk to the boys and then we’ll head out,” He said. 

I watched him walk over. Some of the boys started to whistle and holler. I couldn’t hear Logan but he shut it down quick. The boys loaded up into the bus and gestured for me to follow. He gave me a soft smile and followed me on sitting in the seat across from mine. Other than the boys celebrating the game in the back ground it was a silent ride home. How did I screw this up so bad. He planned out this whole thing. But, somehow I still don’t believe this. My phone lit up with a text from the girls. 

“How was the game? I saw you guys won!” Skyler sent. I needed them right now. I looked over at sy he was scrolling on his phone, or looking out the window, I didn’t know what to say right now. I texted the girls back. 

“The game was good, But I’m an idiot.” I replied. 

“How so?” Hayley texted back quickly. I poured out everything into the text. They knew why I felt he shouldn’t like me, even if I never said it. So I’m sure that was no surprise to them. I told them about what those women had said. And my little panic attack. Sy telling me how he felt and how I ran off. And when I finally clicked together that he had put this together so he could ask to take me out. And How I royally fucked it all up. 

“Oh Alayna, I’m sorry. That really sucks. But have you tried talking to him about any of this.”  Skyler said. 

“I didn’t have the time, and I can’t, He probably already hates me now and realizes I was never worth it anyway.”

“Stop it dude! I don’t wanna hear that from you. Clearly he thinks you are. He went through all that effort because he wanted to make sure he got the right opportunity. So he would care if you told him! You need to tell him what you’re feeling. I know it’s scary but you have to.” Hayley sent back. 

“She’s right Alayna, I know this is hard, but he’s not in this to hurt you, I know people have before but girl, You can’t believe for the rest of your life every man is the same. Pull him aside when you get back. You can fix this. We love you!!” 

I knew they were right. But I didn’t have much time to muster up the courage to do anything. When I looked up from my phone we were pulling back up to the school. The team got off the bus. “Alright boys! Get home safe, I’ll see you Monday morning for practice,” Sy said before letting them go. I grabbed my things from the bus and headed to my car. But when I got there I noticed something wasn’t right my shoulders slumped. I’d left a light on when I was searching for a jacket. God I hope it didn’t drain my battery. I got in and tried to start it. But of course. What’s that saying. If it can go wrong it will. I got out and slammed the door shut. “Fuck!” I shouted. I couldn’t help it now the damn broke and I couldn’t help but start crying “I’m so stupid!” I kicked at  tire and slammed my fist on the hood of my car. “Ow fuck!” I held my hand that was now throbbing. 

“Woah, Hey, What’s going on?” Sy asked coming up behind me quicking after hearing me shouting. 

“It’s nothing, I'm sorry. My… battery died. I left a light on. My car won’t start.” I hiccuped trying to control my breathing. He pulled me into his chest and hugged me.

“Okay, It’s gonna be alright. Breath. Good girl. Calm down.” He spoke softly. “Now,” he pulled away slightly to look at me in they eyes. “Do you have jumper cables?” I shook my head 

“No I, had some old ones and I threw them out and never replaced them I… forgot.” he nodded. And let go leaving me against his car to go check the tool box in the back of his truck.

“Shoot. Yeah, I thought so,” He mumbled to himself, “Sorry, sugar. I left mine in my garage.” He said. I nodded. “It’ll be fine here tonight, I can take you home.” Again I just nodded. I heard him let out a deep breath. “Did I,” He paused. “Did I do something wrong? I, I just thought... Maybe I was reading it wrong. I was just sure that you felt…”

“I do,” I said cutting him off. “ I do feel the same. I just don’t understand why, you feel the way you do. I …” I didn’t know what else to say I just kept staring at the pavement.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I? You’re gorgeous. Shit, I’ve been flirtin’ with you since I met you. You really couldn’t see it?” I shook my head. 

“No,” I said finally looking up at him. “I wanted to. I really wanted to, but I just couldn’t believe that a guy as good looking as you would find me attractive.” I said. He chuckled softly. “Don’t laugh at me!” I pouted. 

“I’m not, it’s just, baby, you might just be the dumbest smart girl i’ve ever met. Seriously, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And I coach teenage boys!” I smiled a little. “There she is. You wanna tell me what’s goin on in that pretty little head of yours? He asked. I took a deep breath. It’s now or never. 

“I was waiting to talk to you after the game, and I heard these women talking. They were talking about how handsome you are. And if you were single. One of them had said they’d seen me with you on the sidelines. She made a comment about my weight and that there was no way I would be your type. And The other girl said some things too. I felt really insecure. I already didn’t believe that you would be into me but when I heard someone else say it, it solidified it for me. And then when you told me how you felt. It felt like a joke. I felt like I was in high school again and everyone was going to gather around and start laughing. And to be honest. My experiences since then haven’t been great. I haven’t been with good guys. I just I was afraid I was going to be hurt. Honestly sometimes I don’t even know how I do this job because I can’t even take my own advice.” I looked down again. It was a relief to let it all out but if I looked him in the eye I was going to start crying again. I was already weak enough in this moment. 

Sy stepped back around the car to where I was standing. He gently put his hands on my hips and pulled against him. He brought one hand up brushing the hair out of my face and resting it on my cheek. “I wish you could understand how wrong they are. I know you don’t not right now. But I’m gonna help you see yourself the way I do Sugar,” He didn’t hesitate any longer. He pressed us further against the car and leaned down pressing his lips to mine. His lips were soft and his body was warm against mine. He kissed me slowly and soft his beard tickling against my jaw. I snaked my hands around his neck pulling him closer. And I felt him smile against my lips. He pulled away slowly eyes fluttering open still holding me against him. “Baby you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. I don’t know what other people have said to you. Or what you’ve been through. But when I tell you you’re beautiful I mean it. And when say I wanna take you home with me, it aint no joke baby. Do you trust me?” He askes staring down at me holding my face in his hands. 

“I trust you Logan, so much that is scares me.” I admitted. 

“I’d never hurt you like that Darlin’ that’s a promise.” I pulled him down and kissed him again. Harder this time. He groaned against my lips and squeezed my hip pulling me closer. He slid his hand into my hair holding me there as he started to gently suck on my bottom lip. We pulled away to catch our breath and had big goofy grin on his face as he leaned his forehead against mine.  “I’d love to do this all night baby,” He chuckled. “But its late and its only gonna get colder out here, I need to get you home.” I blushed. 

“Yeah, it’s almost midnight. We really should get going.” 

He  opened the passenger door of the truck for me and made sure I got in okay before he shut the door and got in on the other side. He started the truck and we pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Sy?” I spoke softy. 

“Yeah baby?” He looked over just for a second to let me know he was listening. 

“Did you mean it, when you said you wanted to take me home with you?” I asked. He literally snorted. 

“What do you think?” He smirked taking one hand of the wheel and resting it on my thigh. I could feel my heart rate speed up and I was blushing. How the hell was it so easy for him to turn me on?

“I want to.” I said. He looked like he was about to choke. 

“Yeah? You don’t have to Sugar, I didn’t mean… I mean I want you to. But I don’t want you to fee like I’m pressuring you or anything. Shit I ain’t even taken you out yet. Not really.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it softly. 

“Logan, I really want to.” I said. He just smiled. 

“Alright, baby.” 

He drove us back to his place parking the truck in his drive way. “Right this way Darlin,” He smirked leading me up the front steps and unlocking the door. I followed him inside and he quickly shut the door behind him backing me up against it. “You really have no idea what your doing to me do you baby?” He licked his lips looking me up an down hungrily. I’d never seen him like this. The look in his eye was almost, animalistic. And it was so. Fucking. Hot. “Here I was thinking you were an innocent little thing.” He pinned my against the door holding me there in his hands. He leaned down crushing his lips against mine. This was different than the kisses we’d shared earlier , slow and sensual, this was hungry, needy. “Practically begging me to bring you home. You know how long I’ve been thinking about this? Getting you home with me? Under me? Fuck.” he breathed

He pulled me away from the wall and pulled at the bottom of his hoodie I was still wearing. I lited my arms and let him pull it over my head along with my shirt leaving them in a pile on the floor. We walked a little farther into the house. He pulled his shirt off tossing it next to us as he pulled me into his lap on the couch. I leaned back to admire his toned chest running my fingers throught the soft curls there. He slid his hand into my hair groaning into my mouth as he pulled me in for another kiss. He bit my bottom lip slowly dragging it between his teeth. He started. Peppering kisses down my jaw before leaving wet kisses along my neck. 

His hands were everywhere roaming over bra squeezing my breasts, running them down my sides and around grabbing my ass. I felt his hand move around my back plaing with the clasp of my bra. “Need this off baby.” He mumbled against my chest. He managed to undo it and I let it fall tossing it to the floor. “Mm fuck yes,” He moaned dipping his head down taking one of my nipples into his mouth and teasing the other with his thumb. I moaned and rolled my hips against his. I could feel his hard cock straining aginst his jeans. He groaned against me giving the other nipple attention. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He said stood from the couch picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“Sy!” I Squealed. He carried me to his bedroom setting me on his bed. He crawled on top of me. His hands were already on the waist band of my leggings. 

“Is this okay,” He paused. I nodded eagerly and he chuckled. “Good girl.” He pulled them down swiftly with my panties leaving me completely bare infront of him. “Fucking beautful” he said as he starting kissng down my stomach. He nipped at my thigh leaving wet kisses there.  He pushed my legs open a little further and pulled me to the end of the bed. I was completely exposed to him but I didn’t care. I trusted him completely. He met my gazed and ran his and up my thigh before brushing his fingers through my folds. I moaned as his fingers brushed across my clit “God damn baby, all this for me? Fuckin soaked. “ He smirked He pressed his thumb to my clit rubbing in rough circles. 

“Fuck!” I moaned “Logan please!” I grabed his wrist the sensation already feeling overstimulating. It’s been so long. 

“We’ll get there baby.” He teased. Finally he kissed down my inner thigh and brushed his tongue against my clit.

“Oh my god!” I whimpered ran my fingers over his hair as he sucked on my clit. He slid two finger inside me pumping slowly. I squirmed against him but he used his other hand to hold my hips down. God he was so strong. 

“Keep still sugar. Don’t make me tell ya again,” He said before going back to work on my clit and curving his fingers in side me pumping them a little faster. I was seeing starts. I pushed his head down holding him there. 

“Oh my god, don’t stop!” I moaned. I came hard around his fingers and he slid them out and licked them clean. 

“Mm you taste so good baby. So fuckin’ sweet.” He stood up from the bed finally ridding himself of his jeans and boxers. His hard cock rested against his stomach. He was huge. I bit my lip and he chuckled. 

“I’ll go easy on you baby,” he said as he started crawling on top of me again.

“Mm wait,” He stopped raising an eye brow. I pushed him back against the pillows and kisses his lips softly. I kissed down his chest and finally settled between his legs. I bit my lip and looked up at him innocently “Just wanna taste it,”  He smirked. 

“Dirty little girl ain’t ya, mm” he pulled my hair back guiding me down. I licked the length of his cock. He groaned softly. I loved the sounds he made. So deep and almost feral. I finally took the tip in my mouth and slowly started to suck him off. I took him as far as I could letting him hit the back of my throat. He growled. “That’s it baby, good girl.” I kept bobbing my head on his cock and wrapped my and around the base where I couldn’t fit him in. I felt him tug on my hair and pull me up. “That feels amazing baby but I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.” 

He kissed me again and laid me down pulling leg over his shoulder. He ran the head of his cock up and down my folds getting it nice and wet. “You ready baby girl?” I nodded. He slowly pushed in. He held him self up bracing him self on one arm. He pushed in slow inch by inch letting me adjust to him. When he bottomed out he stayed there for a minute. “You okay baby?”

“Logan, it’s sweet that you’re asking but please fuck me.”  He let out a low growl and pulled almost all the way snapping his hips back into me. I moaned feeling him deep inside me. He grabbed my hip pulling me closer and kept thrusting into me. He moaned as he reached between us finding my clit with his thumb. The rythem of his thrusts and hitting just the right spot had me seeing stars. I came again around him moaning his name and other obscenities falling from my lips. “That’s it good girl.” He pulled out and flipped me over onto my stomach. He pushed back inside of me this new angle hitting that spot over and over again but I was so sensitive. 

“Come on baby, you got another one for me?” He growled against my ear. 

“Mm I can’t sy, It’s too much,” He reached around rubbing my clit in cirlces with his thumb.

“One more baby, please for me?” He picked up his pace hitting that spot over and over. I Moaned pulling at the sheets beneath me. 

“Fuck I’m cumming!” I moaned letting go around him

“That’s my good girl, cum on my cock.” His thrusts were becoming erratic and he stilled and groan cumming inside me. He kissed my shoulder and layed down beside me. He pulled out slowly and pulled me to lay on his chest. “Holy shit,” He breathed. He fingertips brushed up and down my back. He smiled down at me. “You’re incredible. I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up Logan,” I blushed Hiding my face against his chest.

“I mean it, your too good for this world Darlin’,” He smiled and kissed my head. “I’m gonna marry you someday, I know I haven’t even really taken you on a date yet. But baby when you know, you know,” 

“Yeah?” I smiled  “I think I know what you mean.” He pulled the blankets up over us and held me for a while. 

“Good, now get some rest Darlin’” He said running his fingers through my hair. I smiled snuggling up against him. 

“Goodnight Sy,” I smiled. 

“Goodnight sugar.”

[tpwkwriter]

Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable and loving that about her and teasing her and recreating cute scenes from romance books with her

Head in a book

I wish I could say I was a bookworm but in fact the only things I read are on tumblr🥲

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of book tok😭fluffy as!!☁️

Pairing: Harry x quiet!y/n

——————————————————————————

Y/n appreciated a quiet life, the small moments were a huge thing to her, the smell of freshly baked bread, picking flowers, watching the stars n all.

So when her boyfriend is the most biggest popstar, surrounded by loud music, screaming fans, and flashy cameras, everyone thought the couple wouldn’t work out, oh how they were so wrong.

After loud music, flashy lights, the screams and chants of millions of fans, Harry learnt that quiet and peaceful moments were better shared with y/n, he didn’t just love her, he adored her and everything she did.

She was the quiet rain in the darkest of nights.

It was a common occasion that Harry would come home to y/n absolutely nose deep in a book on the sofa, he loved watching the way she would get totally immersed in the story and endorsed on the character’s behaviour and thinking process.

Well tonight was no different, the time neared 6:45pm and Harry was out of the studio relatively early, he walked into there shared home, before he could look around he could sense something wasn’t right, the lights were all off, normally y/n would have various candle scents lingering in the atmosphere and the sound of her playlist would be faintly heard in the background.

He toed off his shoes and released his belongings by the door (making a mental note to clean it up later)

And walked through to there shared living room, y/n was bundled on the sofa with a grey faux blanket covering her, her hoodies hood was covering her hair and her eyes looked red and defeated.

Alarm bells are immediately going off in Harry’s mind, and he’s quick to act.

“Hey you, what’s happening?” He asked gently asked, swiftly sitting down next to her, leaning back and gently tapping her arm enough to signal ‘come here’

“Harry? Didn’t even hear you come home” she said voice a little wobbly, she joined his side, lounging her legs across his lap and resting her head on his chest.

“S’okay, what happened my love?” He asked softly into her hair, allowing his hand to slowly trace gentle circles on her back.

“Well” she started

“You know the book i was close to finishing?” She sniffs.

Harry begins to slightly relax at the fact it may not be as serious as he anticipated.

“I do m’love” he smiled

“Well because, it wasn’t a good ending at all” she begins to tear up again and snuggle her head further into his chest.

He mainly chuckles out of relief that it wasn’t anything ‘real’ and ‘serious’ he continues to hold her and press kisses to her hairline.

“I’m sorry to hear that m’love, wanna speak about it?” He’d gently ask.

As she begins to tell him the tragedy of the protagonists death and the failing love story between characters, even if truthfully Harry had no idea, he loved listening and taking in what she had to say.

“It sounds like such a beautiful story though my love” he said, trying to amp the spirits up.

“Mhmm” shes hum against him, the rest of the night was filled with cuddles and a lazy dinner together.

——

It was a few weeks later and now y/n had got on to some new books, she was never without one.

One evening when y/n was sitting up reading in bed, and Harry was in there shared en suite getting ready for bed, y/n had an idea, that would send not only her but many girls around the world into a frenzy.

Before he finished up she sent up her phone discreetly on her beside table and began to work her magic.

“Harry!” She called

Lucky for her, timing was great, he emerged from the bathroom and was about to head out to the bed.

“Stay right there mister” she smirked

A confused smile crossed his face, at her instructions but he did as she said.

“Babe-?” He chuckled lowly.

“I’ve just been reading here” she said holding up her book

“And it says here: “with arms holding him up he leant against the doorframe admiring the girl in-front of him” “ she recites from the paper.

Rolling his eyes already knowing what she was gonna request.

“So if you could please, show me your best doorframe lean, I’d be very happy” she smiled as she put the book in her lap and leaned back against the headboard.

His famous smirk flashes at the girl

“Y’want me, to lean against the doorframe?” He chuckles.

“Basically, but like- in a really romantic and heroic way, y’know” she giggles.

Y/n can practically see Harry think of how he’s gonna do this.

“M’kay, I need you to c’mere then” he calmly requests.

“Harry, just do it!!” She blushes, she’s also thinking of how thankful she is for the 5 minute feature on TikTok!

“Will, just come here” he laughs, he walks over and takes both of her hands and guides her to the place he wants which is right by the doorframe but far enough.

When satisfied with were the both at, harrys left arm lifts up and due to his height sits just above the top door frame, already y/n found her self flustered, and with his right hand he held her face and pulled her in for a sweet kiss on her lips, while still holding the “doorframe leaning position”

She pulls away flustered and blushed up,

“You did not just do that” she laughs as she stares at him.

“No Harry, I know the fuck you did not do that” she states, her eyes still wide and her mouth curling up into a big smile.

The smirk of satisfaction crawled up on his face as he managed to to fluster up his girl, despite nearly 5 years of being together.

Remembering the iPhone camera pointing in there direction, she quickly turned on her heels to stop it, at the realisation of she’s been filming them hits Harry and it’s now his time to go red.

“You cheeky thing” he says going up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kept his chin on her shoulder as they watched the video they just made together, sharing laughs and smiles.

“Fuck sake” he smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple and getting into his side of the bed.

She presses post and couldn’t wait to see what everyone had to say tomorrow, she joined in the bed next to him.

“Safe to say girls are gonna be having a field day with that one” she laughs.

“Where did you learn that stunt from anyway?” She giggled leaning in to his side.

“Well baby” he started.

“When your girlfriend is obsessed with books and romance novels you do learn a few tricks along the way, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t read a few of your stuff” he nonchalantly pointed out.

Her eyes light up again.

“Really? You have?” She excitedly asked

“Mmmhmm, I got say y’got good taste” he shrugs.

“If you want recommendations just say”

——————————————————————————

[hyunsvngs]

i NEED your thoughts on fem!hyunjin teaching gf!reader how to masturbate bcs she never really knew how to properly get off before.. oh lord i need this right now

“baby,” hyunjin’s voice is soft when she speaks, but your phone speakers are staticky. “will you get yourself off for mommy? i know i can’t be there, you g’ta do your assignment, but…”

you move your legs on your soft bedding, one hand resting on your tummy. how do you say it? you didn’t know how. once you’d finally had your sexual awakening in university, hyunjin had been there with her long, smooth legs and plush lips that could often coax you into an orgasm just from her words. she was so beautiful, and ever so understanding - you can tell her.

“i…” you begin, voice small. “i’ve never gotten myself off before. i’ve- i’ve tried, but only you’ve made me cum.”

it’s silent, and then hyunjin moans, a quiet noise that could’ve been mistaken for something else if you didn’t know her so well at this point. “oh, honey. do you want me to tell you what to do? teach you how to touch that pussy the same way i do?”

you nod, before you realise she can’t see you. “yes. yeah, i- i wanna learn, for when you’re not here.”

hyunjin hums. “okay, baby. are you wet?”

“yeah,” you affirm, legs shifting again. “been wet since you called, thinkin’ about you.”

“oh, really?” she murmurs, and you hear fabric shifting on her end. “you must be gettin’ desperate, darling. mommy’s touching herself, too. you wanna know what i’m doing, and you can do the same?”

“yes,” you sound desperate, you note, and hyunjin giggles.

“okay. i’ve got two fingers on my clit, baby, just rubbing around the wetness,” she hums, and then you hear a sigh. “feels good. you think you can do that?”

you hum in response, wiggling your sleep shorts down to your ankles. you are wet, you notice, and the cold of the room feels soothing against your swollen, aroused clit. you try to do as she says, holding the phone precariously in a shaking hand and using your spare hand to drag through your folds, smearing your wetness on your clit.

you jolt immediately, whining, and hyunjin giggles. “is that good, baby?”

“yeah, yeah, mommy, it’s- oh, holy-“

“ssh, i know, i know,” she coos, and you hear more fabric rustling. her pace is increasing, you hope, because you’re going to cum from just a few swipes to your aching clit. “do you wanna finger yourself too?”

“god, yes,” you huff, making hyunjin moan at your desperation. you’re quick to push two fingers inside of yourself, curling them without abandon. you’re tight, and your fingers aren’t as long as your girlfriend’s - but it’ll do.

“oh, baby, i can hear how fucking wet you are,” hyunjin groans, and you wish you could see her. she’s probably fucking herself too, now, her dark hair splayed along her pillow like an angel and her teeth digging into one plump lip. her tits are probably even jiggling with the force of her actions. “mommy’s wet too, angel. makin’- fuck, making me think of when you let me scissor you that one time. my clit was gliding everywhere, baby, you were so wet.”

“i- oh, mommy,” you whine, legs thrashing. you’ve managed to get your fingertips pressing into your g-spot, trying to focus on the way hyunjin would do it. you think you’re doing it right, because you’re very close to cumming. “mommy, i think- i think i’m gonna cum.”

“yeah?” hyunjin sighs. “me too, baby. cum for me nice and hard, soak your fingers, and i’ll come fuck you with the strap you like once you’ve finished your assignment. sound good?”

“oh- oh, and please, please, sit on my face-“

hyunjin chuckles, but cuts herself off with a moan. “of course i will, baby. mommy’s gonna cum now, is my angel going to cum too?”

“yeah, yeah, yeah-“ you’re chanting, and hyunjin lets out a desperate moan once more before she’s going quiet. she’s normally quiet during her orgasm, just letting her pussy gush and a smile cross her face. you, however, whine loudly when your walls flutter around your fingers, leaking all the way down to your knuckles from your drippy hole.

“oh,” your chest is heaving, but you try to speak anyway. “um, so. i don’t really care about the assignment anymore, and-“

hyunjin huffs out a laugh, and then she’s cooing. “i’m on my way over, baby.”

[alyona11]

Ok time for my big Hadestown hot take and that’s that West End Hadestown doesn’t give you a 100% Hadestown experience. It’s still ridiculously good and 100% worth seeing, don’t get me wrong (I used my opportunity and saw it twice and will likely see it again if I’m in London), but it kinda made me realise a couple of things about OBC production that will always be my Roman Empire and make me deeply upset Broadway is too greedy to give us an OBC proshot.

So, here are some of my thoughts and reflections based on seeing Hadestown live on West End + seeing different versions (including London National theatre proshot) in boots. I think you can pretty solidly say that in Hadestown there are 2 main stories: Orpheus/Eurydice and Hades/Persephone. And even though arguably Orphedice is the main most important story, it my opinion it also wins from Hadesphone story being strong. Which works perfectly in OBC due to Amber Gray and Patrick Page delivering a very deep nuanced performances as their characters.

I think part of the success of Hadestown when it works on its fullest is how it creates a very deep emotional journey. And I feel that regardless which pair of Orpheus and Eurydice you have (if we take Broadway/tour/West End take on the characters) it’ll still work! Like you need to try really hard to mess up orphedice the way people wouldn’t root for Orpheus or wouldn’t empathise with Eurydice because they are so relatable and cute. You instantly love them, they are so so lovable. So orphedice part is one thing in Hadestown that imo works if not always then in 99% of the cases.

Hades and Persephone’s part of the story in the contrary is VERY hard to nail on 100%, in my opinion, and this is literally driving me crazy. Maybe seeing Amber Gray and Patrick page in professional recording awoken some feelings in me, I don’t know. I will state straight away that I also do enjoy other actors’ takes on characters and I do see some very interesting character moments there and there. However, I keep returning to the thought that Amber/Patrick’s characterisation works SO WELL for the main narrative. I’ll try to explain why I think so. Consider it my love letter to the OBC.

First and foremost, I feel like Hadesphone story has a very fine dynamic that the actors have to nail, so you would feel that: 1) these two still love each other; 2) these two are buried under their problems and see no way out, only a miracle (aka Orpheus and his song) can save their marriage.

And if the first one usually works at least due to Epic 3, the second one, imo, often (at least partially) falls victim to acting/directing choices which can cause troubles with point 1 as well. I think one big thing I’ve noticed is that often Persephone’s alcoholism gets forgotten in the acting performance. Like yeah sure her choreography includes drinking from a flask but in comparison to Amber you never get a feeling that she is absolutely wasted. Which, is in my opinion something that you should feel when you’re watching the show and something I was constantly forgetting about when I was watching the show on West End. I feel in Amber’s performance you can constantly see that her Persephone’s feel good attitude is a façade of a broken person who knows that her marriage is going to hell in front of her eyes yet she is too passive and hopeless to try to make an active change (well, she does try in Chant and nothing happens), so her only way is to chase the sense of normality that the “medicine” gives her. But when she is alone, if you get to catch a moment when people are not looking at her, you can see a deep sadness under her positive front and her memory of the old days when everything was more simple. Nevertheless, the main point that the lyrics literally say is that Persephone is blinded by the river of wine. And this is crucial to her character and her relationship with Hades because the story states that even though Hades is a problem and he is an active actor in creating more problems, he is not the only failure in this relationship. Persephone needs to be woken up from her apathy almost as much as Hades does and this is something that we see during If It’s True.

From Hades’ side I feel like it’s not a good decision to make him a total villain because when he is irredeemable you don’t feel like the whole “song that will fix the world” has any chance of working long term. I think Patrick nailed a deep antagonist very well. His Hades is weird and lowkey creepy and alien. He does objectively bad things but when you look at him you can’t stop thinking that he doesn’t operate in regular human logic or morality. When I look at him in Chant, it feels to me that his words about building stuff to impress Persephone are absolutely sincere, and I can absolutely see that his Hades doesn’t understand why she is so upset about it when his intentions are so so clear. Maybe it’s my vision but even before Epic 3 when he is so far gone and buried in his projects and messed up ideas I don’t have a single doubt that Persephone is a single motivator and goal of Patrick Hades’ life and that he literally doesn’t need any other being to care about. And tragically this fixation is what makes him blind to all other things he does even if those things ruin Persephone’s life (and other people’s but tbh I don’t think he cares).

I feel like by removing Persephone’s Chant 2 verse Hadestown created more problems for Hades and Persephone part of the story making it a much harder job for the actors to prove to the audience that Hades and Persephone have a chance to make their relationship work. Like I get that maybe it was a necessary things to do (even though I think the show is much better with it) but it made it so much harder to empathise with this particular part of the story unless the actors use the choices that work in the narrative. Because for example when I was watching the show on West End part of me was wondering “what is Persephone’s deal in all of that, what does she win by staying with Hades?” With the verse, and with Broadway Previews or London 2018 in particular this part was clear: Persephone still loves Hades and believes that he has the opportunity to change and become a better man he used to be. Without the verse, however, the actors should give you the same idea during the show which is a hard task considering Hades and Persephone have only 2 big conversations together (Chant and How Long). So apart from those songs there are only subtle mostly silent moments they get together through which the actors have to convey the same thought which is hella difficult and probably hardly will be appreciated by anyone apart from the people who sit closely.

So, maybe because in the actor combo I saw (Zachary and Lauren), I got a feeling that even though they were great separately, I didn’t feel much chemistry between them as a pair. I think, Persephone seemed pissed and tired of Hades all the time until How Long and I didn’t feel that she still believes in his willingness to change. And Zach Hades despite being entertaining, kinda gives the impression of Hades who has other options, he is not into Persephone enough. The only sparkle appears between the two in Epic III which is still cute but I’m not sure if it works just as well if that’s the first time you see the show? Also considering Zach Hades gives more malicious intent in His Kiss, The Riot it seems that he is not even slightly interested in Orpheus having any opportunity to succeed with his quest. Which is not bad, don’t get me wrong! But in comparison to Patrick who is deeply self projecting into Orpheus to the point where you could see that even though he doesn’t want to let him go, part of him does because it would prove he too could succeed in his challenge of waiting for Persephone, this take seems a bit lacking. And overall because of His Kiss, their promise in Wait For Me doesn’t seem as giving much hope that the story won’t repeat itself next Sunday. Which in its turn makes Orpheus’ sacrifice feel a bit… worthless. If on Broadway, when Orpheus turns, but spring comes again you feel like it is the start of something new: hopefully a kinder and softer time. On West End the show also wants you to feel it but when you think about Hades and Persephone you feel…less certainty that this sacrifice will have a long term effect?

I guess the creators wanted to concentrate on Orpheus and Eurydice more and forget about Hades and Persephone by making them more secondary story or maybe there was a lack of director’s involvement to give the cast some hints on how to make this particular part of the story work better, but it feels to me that in its current state the show works in its 85% power which is still great but once you know there is something missing you can’t stop thinking about it and wishing the show would give you those 15% you crave.

[vanilla-poisons]

Random Post about Jamikali’s magic

There’s something infinitely heartwarming and heartbreaking about Kalim learning magic because he saw Jamil use it. Jamil wants to be seen as his own person outside but Kalim wants so desperately for them to relate. Kalim deeply admires Jamil and wants him to be happy but everything he does just makes things worse. He imitated Jamil everyday to learn magic. He could’ve done a million things but instead tried to learn what Jamil was doing. He didn’t learn magic to be the best or to fulfill some sort of requirement…he did it because he loves Jamil and thought it was cool.

I wonder if Kalim was there when Jamil learned his unique magic was snake charmer. He canonically knew his power of course and even promised to not say anything but how did he know? It’s unlikely to me that Jamil would rush to Kalim when he learned his unique magic to show him. Was Kalim the first person he accidentally used it on? Was it scary? Did he know what was going on? Was he looking into Kalim’s eyes for them suddenly to go blank and glow red? Did he panic thinking something went terribly wrong and that he’d hurt him? Did he only find out he could use commands when he frantically yelled at Kalim to snap out of it and to say something?

Did Kalim find it scary? Did it shake him for the one person he trusted most to randomly use powerful magic on him without warning? I wonder if after it ended Jamil made Kalim promised to never tell anyone because he was afraid of what Kalim’s parents would do or think.

Was Kalim disappointed when he found out his own unique magic? Did Jamil sigh with relief when learning that his was less powerful than his own? That he was still better at Kalim with magic. If Kalim was disappointed I imagine it was brief after he learned the fun ways he could use his power. To make instant pools in the desert and dance in rain of his own creation. He probably eagerly came up with his own fun chant. I wonder if he ever used it when he was attacked and summoned huge storm clouds to surround him hoping the rain would wash everyone away.

I’m so normal about them-

[noceurstars]

”Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Rupert Giles x Witch! Younger! Reader

You and the Scoobies try to have a normal Thanksgiving. Try, anyway.

[ w — age gap (20+ years), older man/younger woman, injured! reader, assumed unrequited love, short story, tv show-compliant only, slight canon divergence ]

— divider cred: @/inklore

Living above the Hellmouth meant that nothing would ever be normal. No holidays, no birthdays would ever be like the average person’s.

Thanksgiving and Christmas was the same. Monsters and creatures of the dark never took days off, not with their insatiable need to be evil.

Buffy sighed as she staked what was probably the 20th vampire of the night. Thanksgiving was a time to sit down with friends and family, having a lovely, large dinner and being thankful for the people in your life and the things you had.

But not for the Scoobies.

You huffed, rolling your sore shoulder. A vampire had taken a good chunk out of of your neck, but the second he tasted your blood, he instantly revolted, and you took a stake to his heart.

“You good?” Buffy asks, eyeballing your shoulder.

“Yeah.” But you hiss a little as pain flares through it. “It’s just gonna take a minute to heal. I’ll put some bandaids on it when we get back.”

Buffy cheerily and knowingly chips in a, “I’m sure Giles would disapprove.” That prompts you to give her a deadpan look.

“You know that he doesn’t like me like that,” you reply. You shove your hands into your pockets. “It’s a one-way street. Can we talk about something else?”

She shrugs. “Sure.”

The two of you walked side by side out of the graveyard. Buffy sighs, tilting her head down.

“I really wish Christmas could be normal,” she admits. “I miss it, from when I was a kid. It’s so much different from now.”

“Not as involved with monsters, you mean?” you say, and Buffy nods in confirmation. “Yeah, me too. I feel so… apathetic about it anymore. It doesn’t feel as important, as fun as it used to be.”

“Cons of being apart of the supernatural world,” she adds.

“Truly.” You laugh. “Not to mention—” A scream rips from your throat. Cold heat washes through you and up your spine, all the way up to your skull. Your head jolts back at the pain, and the cold heat leaves as the wooden stake leaves your body, now replaced by odd, liquid warmth.

Oh, you’re bleeding. Bleeding out, perhaps.

You heard the slaps and thuds of fighting as you fall to the ground. You try to have some semblance of control as you collapse in pain, but it doesn’t work. You bump your head into a headstone and more liquid oozes down your skin.

You hear the familiar hissing sound of dust. Buffy’s won. Now you see her over you, terror and fear written all over her features.

“[Name]? [Name]? You with me?”

You gulp, attempting to focus and swallow down the pain. “Kinda,” you hiss.

“Healing magic? Can it fix this?” she inquires hurriedly.

“Probably,” you reply, becoming more and more breathless.

“I’m gonna put pressure on it, okay? The second you feel any sort of clarity, start chanting.”

You let out a loud cry of pain, more blood coming out and staining your shirt. The pain signals the adrenaline in your body. It takes you a couple seconds longer than what you hope before you start chanting in Latin.

It feels strange, your body stitching itself back together. The strange feeling of blood coming out of your body disappears. You huff, the chant ending a minute later. Buffy takes her hands off the wound and you watch her examine it.

“How’s it look?”

“Looks good, head wound is gone, too,” she says. “But we need to get you back to the Magic Box. Giles and Willow might have something they can help you brew up to get you fully healed.”

You lean up using your elbows and hands. You take Buffy’s hand and let out groan of pain as you get to your feet. You two walk out of the graveyard and head to the Magic Box. You thank God it’s dark and no one can see you and your best friend walk through the streets of Sunnydale with her holding you up.

The Magic Box comes into sight not ten minutes later. Buffy uses her key to open the door, but neither of you expect to see the floor of the Magic Box completely cleared out, with a large, decorated table filled to the brim with food and drinks.

Xander is the first to turn his head up and see you and Buffy.

“Happy Thanksgiving, you guys!” he says.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Xander,” you speak breathlessly. And that’s when he knows something is wrong. His eyes trail down to your bloodied shirt and widen drastically.

“Oh, crap.”

“Oh, crap is right.” Buffy sets you down in one of the nearest chairs. “Get the others and tell them [Name] needs a healing potion… or some sort of healing magic. The wound isn’t as bad as it looks, but she needs help crossing the finish line.”

“On it.”

Xander heads to the back to get the others, who come rushing in not a moment after he gets them.

Unfortunately for you, all you can focus on through one eye (the other squinted in pain) is Giles, and the look of worry and concern on his face.

“She’s very pale,” Giles says. His voice is clearly worried. It almost seems borderline… terrified?

“Blood loss,” you say in a shakily exhale. “Healed, yes. Blood back inside the body? Not so much.”

“Can you do anything, Giles?” Buffy asks.

“Let me see the wound and we’ll see.”

You raise your shirt, showing off the nasty scar. It’s not fully healed, maybe three-quarters. You look away, eyes meeting Buffy’s, who’s expression is borderline teasing and full of amusement. You roll yours in return.

“Nothing out of my capabilities I can’t heal,” Giles says. He looks up at you and adds, “But I do have to touch it to heal it.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” The second Giles places his hand on the injury though, a large wave of nausea makes you shudder and groan.

“She looks like she needs a trash can,” Xander pipes.

“I’ll get one,” Anya offers, disappearing behind the counter momentarily to grab one. She places it next to you and you thank her.

Giles’ warm hand leaves your lower torso. The wound is completely healed, although you still feel faint from the blood loss. He looks at you again, scanning over your sick expression.

“I’ll be fine in a bit,” you tell, a smile appearing on your face. “I think some food in my stomach would do me some good. Thank you, Giles.”

“You are most welcome,” he replies, standing. “And I think you are absolutely correct. Shall we eat?”

Buffy nods and speaks for everyone’s hungry stomachs. “We shall.”

Dawn sits between you and Buffy. Xander, Anya, and Dawn are on the other side of the table. At the head of the table, between Xander and Buffy, is Giles. Just like a father should be, you think, humored.

“So… What happened? How’d you get such a wound?” Willow asks.

You and Buffy answer in unison: “Vampires.”

“Thought we were done and one caught us by surprise with one of the stakes,” Buffy explains. “[Name] used her magic, but she couldn’t heal it all the way.”

“Glad you both made it back,” Xander said happily. “This Thanksgiving dinner we put together would’ve been a total bust.”

Everyone laughs in agreement and digs into the food. Unknowingly to you, Giles can barely keep his eyes off of you, only looking away to take a bite of food off of his plate. Though he does try to it make it obvious.

Indeed, he’s glad you made it back. He’s glad he’s able to heal your injuries. Life would certainly be a lot more dull without you around.

But as Anya hands you the gravy, you catch Giles staring at you out of your peripheral vision. There’s a look on his face, one you know well, because it’s the same one Spike gives Buffy when she’s not looking.

You smile and raise your glass in a toast. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Everyone raises their glass cheerily, downing a swig.

You thank this Thanksgiving for giving you hope. Even if it doesn’t last.

[this-is-fox-speaking]

FANTOCCIO FACTS POST (from screenshots i found in my own interests server)

- His name is italian for puppet, but he pronounces it incorrectly and insists it’s the correct way to say his name if anyone else points it out and says he’s wrong.

- He’s not from Italy, obviously. Goes to show. But Ash imagines he knows a bit of italian. (“Not enough Italian to say his name right.” - Katie.)

- Fantoccio has a pet shark named Sharkspeare! Mentioned in the song at the line “‘Cause Sharkspeare’s looking mean!”

- Fantoccio has to make all his own props, set pieces, clothes, etc in the theatre.

- Would never smoke, and would hate being around it/people who’re doing it actively.

- Fantoccio was made by Ash as a fan OC for the game, and this (as far as I’m aware) is what got them hired onto the game, cause Katie loved their ideas so much.

- Fantoccio is not very good with kids.

- Fantoccio’s favorite food is churros. This came from the fact Ash once had a dream about him infodumping about them cause he loved them so much, so they made it canon.

- Don’t worry, he can indeed taste things normally. No traditional taste buds, but some, nonetheless. Same goes for touch!

- Fantoccio is canonically autistic, having many traits of himself heavily projected from Ash, themself.

- When asked what his meltdown triggers could be, Ash thought that some might be: too much touching, being without his hat, or one of his props breaking.

- Fantoccio likes wearing dresses! Wears them if he feels like it or if the role calls for it, during a play.

- Ash thinks he’d ADORE snow.

- Fantoccio would 100% love spicy italian from subway.

- Fantoccio plays violin!

- Fantoccio would chant “I’m sleeping” when struggling to fall asleep, like his own version of counting sheep.

- He would NEVER say the Earth is flat.

- He’d be the “How do you do that” of that one keysmash meme, if paired with Barnaby.

- Ash once said that Fantoccio is like Duck from Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.

- When doing a personality type test (and actually answering truthfully instead of in character) for Fantoccio, he ended up with ENTJ-T, Commander. Fanto would answer untruthfully on some questions, like if he ever gets insecure (“PFFFT NO THE ANSWERS NO”).

- He can go uwu in the bbu lore, but he’ll hate it. (“THIS IS STUPID!!!”)

- Fantoccio would apparently be a “mac and cheese FIEND.”

- He’d hate pranks (specifically a hand zapper in this case), because they’re unexpected. (“NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”)

- This also means he’d never troll anyone, cause he feels above that.

- Fanto would HATE hearing people crack their knuckles, like Ash does.

- Fantoccio loves to carve wood. Specifically only by hand, that’s how much he loves it! He carved the two giant wooden hands used in his battle, but his favorite thing to carve is ducks.

- Fantoccio is very intent on ONLY eating the few foods he knows he likes.

- If he were an ice cream, he’d be coffee flavor! Which is ironic, because Ash has also said that it’d probably be terrible to give Fantoccio caffeine.

- Fantoccio would LOVE chicken nuggets.

- Hates pizza, though. Too greasy and messy.

- Would enjoy having an ipad “a little too much. He would be super confused at first but once he learns how to use it DO NOT TAKE IT AWAY”. (kinda like Peridot from Steven Universe)

- He would like spruce wood in Minecraft, but also acacia “just to look at.”

- Ash adores pirates, so so does Fantoccio!

- He has no nose, so no sneezes!

- Appreciates detail as much as Barnaby does.

- Fanto would love birds!

- Fanto is not capable of curse words. Sad.

- Fantoccio would COLLAPSE trying to lift someone without his powers.

- He stims by patting his face and spinning around. Fidgets with his hands in concepts for his standing idle animations, because he’s uncomfortable with standing and prefers floating.

- He’d favor Murder Mystery!

- His wood is alive and can grow like a real boy! (if you’ve seen my post being reblogged around, lol)

- He lives in the lost city of magic, which is abandoned and overrun my magical zombies who used to be magic users, now with a terrible curse. So he lives mainly in his theatre. He’s not trapped, anymore, like his old story!

- Fantoccio’s powers are based around telekinesis and teleportation. It’s how he moves his body around!

- He used to have a plush toy rabbit he carried around, when he was younger, seemingly. It’s unclear where that went, when he got older.

- Fantoccio’s been locked up in this city for 15 years, since he was 8. Completely isolated (save for those zombies, I suppose)! When Billie comes along, though, he’s so excited to have something new to play with!

- Fanto’s song is inspired by Weird Al. Like 90% of this game is, of course /lh. He was also inspired by the pied piper!

- He’d dislike the idea of seafood. (“He’d be like “Why would anyone want to eat a fish?!” And cover Sharkspeare’s nonexistent ears like “Don’t listen to them!””)

- The red feather in his hat is also used as a pen!

- Fantoccio is a being of pure magic, having an entire magic gem be his whole life source. This means he can use magic endlessly without getting tired (I believe)!

- Fantoccio is 23, he/him, and pansexual.

- His face is made using magic. It disappears when/if he’s magic-less.

- Fantoccio can absolutely feel pain.

- When it comes to nature, Ash said he’d kinda be like Rarity from MLP:FiM, but certain kinds of nature he’d still really love. He’d really dislike walking through the wild or camping in general, but loves things like snow or flower fields. Just depends!

- Fantoccio would main Bowser in Mario Kart.

-In terms of favorite Halloween treats, Fantoccio would like anything chewy and fruity (no chocolate)!

- Canonically wears eyeliner.

- Magic sparks from his fingertips when he’s very excited!

- If Fantoccio was an animal, Ash says he’d be a cat.

- No traditional gross human stuff inside him like others, just wood and sap. “Whatever trees do.”

- His original concept by Ash was him having a purple phantom head, being a ghost in a puppet’s body. This was changed by Katie, I believe.

(feel free to add on if I missed anything! i’ll edit this post if i randomly remember something)

[dontexpectmuch]

My God! Please do a part two of the girlfriend 2 years older than the jude! I need it!

jude bellingham dating someone that’s older than him could be like…:

pt. ll

though teasing might not be an official love language, it sure is one of judes. he never had any problems to tease those he liked the most and with you, whether it was fortunate or not, he liked to do it the most. “hey, grandma.” would be one if his usual greeting, accompanied by a smirk dancing on his lips.

groaning and laying down after a stressful day at work or university was normal occurrence for you, running around to get some papers or organizing meeting throughout the day strained your muscles a lot. however, jude thinks it’s really funny, laughing at the sight of you buried in his hoodie and laying in his bed, as he carries some tea and snacks on a tray to the bedroom. “c’mon, can’t be that old now, can ya?” rolling your eyes, you huff, sitting up to take the sweets, “you don’t understand how hard it is to run around all day, okay?” you put some sweets in your mouth, eyes looking at his laughing face. “yeah, like, oh man, poor you. running around all day, how tiring!” - “jude!”

jude really appreciates that he is able to come to you whenever he needs advice. yes, you two understand each other well and you both are mature enough to deal with most of your problems on your own, yet he feels relief wash over him when you give him the advice he needed. it’s almost like him being the player and you being his coach, telling him how to deal with certain situations the best way.

“babe, babe, babe.” jude chants, tapping your foot repeatedly. his body laid at the end of the couch, your feet next to his upper body. “yes?” you ask, putting your book down to look at your boyfriends comfortable form. maybe you should go and lay next to him? let his body warm up your own. “jobe asks what he should get her.” - “his crush?” - “yeah, that one from barbecue.” jude nods, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. you stayed quiet for a bit, thinking about what he should get his crush. “tell him,” you begin, sitting up slightly, “her favorite book and a single rose. but, it should be wrapped up nicely.” you tell him. jude immediately starts to type your words onto the phone, muttering a quiet ‘thanks.’

you tend to use the ‘i’m older and have more experience’ -card when needed, since jude could be stubborn at times that were unfortunate. for example, when telling him to rest due to his injuries. at first he refused to do so, but your stern eyes and crossed arms convinced him to actually listen to you.

“do you really have to leave?” jude asks, sulking as he stood in front of you at the airport. you drove together, to spend as much time as possible before your flight. it was a short business trip, but apparently too long for jude to handle, as he was pouting and sulking all day long. “love, ‘t’s only a few days.” you smile at him, tilting your head aa your fingers affectionately scratch the back of his neck. “just stay at home, no need to leave.” he tries once again, hands resting at your hips, “who’s going to take care of me now?” he continued. rolling your eyes, you step back and begin to walk to the security line, “i knew that you only dated me for me to be your maid.” - “babe, nah wait!” he laughed, jogging after you.

————————————

reader might be even more years older, you decide :)

[writemekpop]

Psycho | Mark Lee

Summary: A curse means that every one of your boyfriends ends up dead. When you meet Mark, you’re determined to save him.

Genre: College AU, smutty

Warnings: Murder, violence - not for the faint hearted! 

Word Count: 1.4k

You were a perfectly normal college girl... except for the fact that you were a serial killer.

Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan...  Your body count was like any other girl's, only yours was more literal.

You always did it the same way: a knife through the stomach, their eyes widening in slow-motion. Their blood warm in your hands, like soup. Their bodies buried deep in the wooded hills that bordered the grounds of Goddard college. Then, the walk of shame back to your room – a secret shame known only to you.  

Your habit sickened you, but you couldn't stop. When the voice in your head started chanting a person’s name, you had to murder them. That's why you’d made an oath to never make a friend again, to never learn a new name.

Until Mark.

You were sitting alone in the corner of the college meadow, bent over your Edgar Allan Poe poem. It was early October, and the wet red bodies of newly fallen leaves littered the ground.

"Do you know how utterly infuriating you are?" a voice said.

You looked up. Your heart stuttered in your chest. The most beautiful boy you’d ever seen was standing above you. He had tousled black hair, sparkling with rain. His steel-rimmed round glasses gave the impression that he knew all world’s secrets, but would never share them.

Despite the cold, your skin was burning.

"And why is that?" you answered.

"Because you insist on being a mystery." He sat down beside you, his face widening in a smile. "My name's Mark. I think we could be friends."

You walked away. "I’m sorry. I don’t need a friend."

You tried your hardest to avoid Mark. You even shifted around all your courses so they wouldn't match with his. But he was irresistible. Before you knew it, you and Mark were inseparable.

As autumn stretched into winter, you began to get closer to him. You discovered Mark's brilliant, wicked sense of humour. Some nights, beneath the swirling snow, you sensed something hard in the blackness of his eyes. An old wound.

Before you knew it, you were hopelessly in love with him.

Every spark of pleasure Mark gave you was mixed with an equal measure of pain. Because in indulging your need for him, you were putting him in grave danger. You just had to try and resist the urge to kill him, when it inevitably came.

Until one bitterly frosty November day, Mark took your hand in his, and murmured, "You have to see my room. You were going to have to see it one of these days." His voice was light, but something burned in his eyes.

Every rational voice in your head was shouting no. This was too dangerous. In the past, the stakes had never been this high. It had never been love.

But with equal strength, the core of you was screaming yes.

So, against your better judgement, you let yourself be pulled into a taxi and into Mark's room.

Mark’s room was cramped and very dark. Clothes covered the floor. He locked the door behind you.

You knew you had to open that door immediately or you would lose yourself.

But you did not open the door.

Instead, you and Mark stood staring at each other in the dark.

The air smelled of Mark’s aftershave and his warm body. A shiver ran from the crown of your head to your heels. You wanted to laugh. You wanted to cry. You wanted to run away. You wanted to move closer.  

Then, Mark pressed himself against you. When he kissed you, your last dregs of resolve evaporated.

You felt the long-forgotten stirrings of desire awake in you. Every touch - Mark's hands cupping your face, your breast, your butt - was unbearably sweet. Yet, each one struck terror deep in you because at any moment, you could hear the whisper of Mark's name and you would feel the urge to kill.

It would have been easier, safer, if this had just been physical. But from the trembling of Mark's fingers, of your own, you knew this was no normal hook-up. This meant too much to both of you.

When you and Mark were tangled together on his single bed, his moans growing faster, you started to think you'd gotten away with it. A wild elation bubbled up inside of you. You’d beaten the game. You’d won. You’d gotten close to somebody without hurting them. You never had to kill again, you thought.

You should have known better.

Just like all the other times, the whispering began. Mark, Mark, Mark... It grew to a murmur, then a yell, then a deafening roar, screaming out that Mark was the one you had to kill next.

You pushed Mark away, fingers squeezing your ears. It was useless. There was nothing you could do to stop the wave of sound.

You could see Mark’s lips moving frantically, his worried eyes, but could hear nothing over the ear-splitting howl.

Every promise you'd made to yourself, every back-up plan, felt small and distant in comparison to the primal need to stop the chanting that was ringing in your ears.

You would have torn Mark’s room into shreds. You would have killed every student in the college. You would have sent the whole place down in flames. You would have done anything to stop that infernal noise.

The shaving razor poked out of the mess of Mark's bedside table. It glinted dully in the half-light. What you had to do was a small thing, you told yourself. One boy's life to stop an eternity of pain.

The razor was cool and strangely flimsy in your fingers, like a baby's rattle. The chanting grew louder, hungrier: Mark, Mark, Mark...

You met Mark's eyes. You recognised the look you had seen in so many other boys’ faces. The look of a man who has realised he is about to die. Teetering on the knife edge between surprise and fear.  

Suddenly, your body felt very distant, the sound very far away. You saw yourself, hunched on the bed like a cornered animal, thrusting a razor in Mark’s terrified face.

You were repeating the same old pattern. The pattern that had destroyed everyone you ever cared about. But there was another way.  A way to end the bloody parade of boys. It was no compromise, no easy fix like the restrictions you’d been putting on yourself that you now realised were futile. The murderer and the victim simply could not coexist.

Fate was a hungry carnivore, and it had been promised a meal. One human life. The only question was: who would it be? You or Mark?  

Before you could stop yourself, you turned the blade to your own throat. You made the fatal cut.

“Y/n, no!”

You could see that Mark was screaming, but the sound of his voice was muffled to your ears, getting quieter as you slipped into the abyss.

It would be lying to say that you didn't feel horror at the void you were about to enter. But beneath all of this was a full-throated joy at the fact that you had saved the one boy that meant the most to you.

You focused on Mark's face: terrified, glowing, beautiful, as everything faded.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[fandomwritingbit]

Make Me Alright

Henry Emily x fem reader

a/n: wrote this on a whim so apologies for any mistakes.

Warnings: family trauma/dysfunctional family, drug/alcohol addiction, smut, unprotected sex, boss/employee dynamic.

It was manic almost from the second the doors opened. The diner was absolutely full, children shrieking, parents doing all they could not to watch them and waiters getting more stressed by the minute. The restaurant needed all the hands they could get and so, people were going for their shorter than normal breaks staggered out to try and reduce pressure. 

You got your break at two o’clock and all was well… until you didn’t come back. 

“Mr Afton?” A waitress called, so eager to get her boss’s attention that her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. 

“What?” He snapped back, a wad of cash in his hands as he tried to finalise a table who’d just up and left, abandoning their tab under a glass for anyone to take. It was lucky that he got to it as quickly as he did and the stress of it made his gaze daggers.

“I-I need to go home. I finished 20 minutes ago.” She stuttered on the words, scared of how he was going to react. 

He scowled as an instant reflex, but forced himself to breathe it off as he shoved the notes in the till. Stretching his fingers out on the bar in front of him, it’s not her fault. It’s not her fault- it’s not her fault. The internal chanting calmed him enough to face the lass waiting hesitantly for him. “Fine. It’s fine, go. Y/n can take over your tables.” 

The young lady nodded and tried to walk away, wanting out as soon as possible. Stopping when he spoke again, “Wait, where is she?” His tone was touching angry again. 

“I’m not sure, she’s still on break… I think.” He waved her away, and relief spread across her face. If that was true and you’re just sitting round the back, you’re in for a serious bollocking.

He found someone else to take over what he was doing and tore through the staff door to look for you, he checked the canteen, the walk-ins and the storage room, you were nowhere to be found. By this point he’s fuming and shaking with need for a smoke so he does the unthinkable and knocks on Henry’s door. 

Well, ‘knocks’ is generous, he bangs on it and shoves it open without waiting for permission. After all they’d been business partners for years, if Henry was yanking it, it'd be nothing he hasn’t seen before. 

“William- you scared the shit out of me. What’s wrong?” Henry was startled and laughed  slightly, regretting his reaction when William’s frown intensified. 

“What’s wrong?” He approaches his friend with his palms raised in the most condescending way. “We’re run ragged out there and I can’t find Y/n fucking anywhere.” Henry sighed, pushing out his chair and going over to his co-worker. 

He’s very used to calming William down and instantly adopts the sensible diplomatic tone that made him an infuriatingly good businessman. “Right, go and take a breather. There’s no point getting pissed off, I’ll go and find her.”

He took more convincing but after around five minutes persuading Will to take himself outside, Henry left his office to look for you. It wasn’t like you at all to play hooky, you’re one of the most professional staff here, so he wasn’t angry with you, just worried if anything.

~

“I can’t do this right now, Lily. I’m at work.” You speak as quietly as you can into the phone, beg your sister to leave you be, she’s been calling you all day. Leaving voicemail after voicemail, each one spiralling into insanity. She’s shouting, crying, pleading. You had no choice but to call her back, you were worried about her, so on your break you slipped into a broom closet and prayed no one would overhear you. Boy, did you regret that now.

You can tell your sister is scowling on the other end of this phone as her words are venomous and dripping with accusation. “I never ask you for anything! Not a fucking thing! And you won’t help me when I need it.” 

“You know I won’t give you money for drink-”

“It’s not for booze, I told you!” She practically screams, she’s a liar, you can hear alcohol in her voice, she’s hardly able to get a sentence out without slurring it. You feel bad for her, of course, but you can’t do this again. Pissing your money up the wall all the time just so she and her drunk of a boyfriend can front more booze and drugs, you’re tired of it and it keeps happening, over and over. Hell, you block her and she gets a new number or uses a phonebox just to reach you. “Why are you so selfish- You- you’d see me hungry, not paying my rent because you won’t support your sister.” 

“Lily, you’re drunk. I can’t keep doing this…” Your voice cracks, emotions at an all time high, it’s futility, anger, frustration, sadness all rolled up into one wave of tears that has you sobbing in this cupboard. 

Rustling on the other end of the line makes your heart clench, the sound of a low voice hissing answered by your sister. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh?” It’s a man’s voice, her bastard boyfriend. “You think you’re so much better than us. Acting like you don’t have the money to help out, you’re fucking disgusting-” The way he shouts these insults at you leaves you no choice but to hang up. You just can’t take it anymore. Struggling to see through your tears you end the call and block her number, knowing now you’ll have to change yours. You just wish she could pull through her addiction but it just gets worse and worse. 

It’s as your lip is trembling and tears are cutting down your cheeks that someone knocks on the cupboard door, it almost makes you jump, but with the amount of noise you’re making you’re not surprised someone found you. 

“Who is it?” You ask thickly, voice sounding nothing like yourself. You sound so emotional, it prompts Henry to open the door quickly, scared that maybe you’ve hurt yourself or that something terrible has happened. 

The sight of you dishevelled, an outraged look on your face as you stare at him makes him panic. For such a beautiful and bright girl like you to be this upset scares him beyond belief. “God, Y/n. Are you al-” He tries to ask but doesn't get a chance before you reach out and grab him by the shirt, pulling him inside this closet and shoving him up against the wall. You slam your lips on his, motivated purely by the urge to forget about your troubles in the arms of your handsome boss. It’s so stupid but you don’t care. 

You pull away slightly, reddened eyes looking up at him. “No, I’m not. Make me feel alright, Mr Emily.” You flash him a twisted smile before kissing him again and this time he kisses you back, he hasn’t a clue why you’re doing this, why you’re upset, any of it. But who is he to refuse the desperate way you’re clinging to him, your hands tight fists in his shirt. The kiss is rushed, no finesse in it, just hungry, your tongue eager in his mouth as you push up against him. 

Fuck, you’re so gorgeous and that perfume of yours is driving him crazy, this feels like a dream, but your quick fingers grabbing his now prominent erection is achingly real. He can’t help but moan at the feeling, breaking the kiss to rest his head on the door behind him. 

You just want to be so lost in the magnetic pull of the sex that you can’t string a thought together, and the equally desperate way he reciprocates your touch is just right. It takes him a moment to be truly comfortable enough to touch you properly, his hands taking a handful of your breasts and sliding down to the curve of your arse. You take that as your greenlight to start unbuckling his belt, struggling for a second but managing. It’s graceless the way you pull his trousers down, his boxers soon following, him somehow fumbling more than you to do the same. 

His fingers slide over your clothed pussy, stroking a rhythm over your bundle of nerves, your growing warm slick sticking the fabric to you and sending another wave of eagerness over you. You interrupt the circling of your clit to pull your panties down, just wanting to feel him inside you. You take hold of him and drag his tip over your pussy before lining it up with your entrance and he doesn’t need any more signalling than that. 

Emotions must’ve made you overlook the thickness of his cock because as he presses into you with a grunt, you moan at the way he stretches you. You’re so tight and hot around him that he can’t help but thrust into you instantly, not fast but deep, and you’re practically drooling. If someone walked past this cupboard right now, they’d no doubt hear the sounds from the two of you, which only got louder when he pulled out to turn you around and press you against the door. Shoving back inside and resuming a universally selfish pace of fucking in and out of you. You roll your hips against him near furiously, spurred on by an amounting tightness in your core begging to snap. 

“Don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.” You hiss against his ear and the filthiness of the words threatens him to burst inside you. And he obeys, doubling down on the pace and trying to forget about the greedy grip of your pussy, tightening around him as you get closer to your peak. You need this so bad and it’s evident in your nails digging into his shoulders, your hips bucking against him without shame.  

It hits you hard, forcing a desperate whine from your lips, your cunt squeezing down around him in fluttering waves. He pulls himself from you in a daze, unable to cope with your delicious walls. You have enough sense about you to grab his cock and stroke him through his climax whilst yours flickers away, his cum trailing down the back of your hand and a deep groan echoing through his chest. 

~

Later in the evening, after you’ve bought and inserted a new SD card into your phone and told your mum that you’re cutting contact with your sister, you’re sitting trying to relax away the emotional numbness that today has brought on. But pretty soon a knock at your door has you getting up from the sofa. You open it put out because you’re not expecting anyone. And for the second time that day, behind the door was your boss Mr Emily. 

“Mr Emily, what are you doing here?” You speak whilst stepping out of the door and closing it behind you, joining him on the front step. 

He smiles sheepishly, “Henry, please.” After today there’s no need for such formality, the least he can offer you is his Christian name. “I thought maybe I could come in… and we could…” The words die on his tongue when he sees your brows furrow, a look of guilt spreading over you before settling in a hard expression.

“That’s not a good idea.” You speak firmly, you don’t exactly regret what happened earlier but it’s not something you want to continue. “You can’t just turn up at people’s houses- where did you get my address? Employee records?” The way his eyes widen tells you the answer. You shake your head and step back to close the door, leaving him standing there embarrassed and confused.

[marvelmaniac715]

I was lowkey in a cult when I was younger because once a week I would go to a hall, in uniform, with several little girls, and we would work towards a common goal (earning badges) and we’d start every meeting with a song where the leaders, whose names we never knew so we called them things such as Brown Owl - it was all owl themed for some reason - would form an arch with their arms and we would all skip through their linked arms whilst chanting about what we were. Then we would recite a promise whilst holding our fingers up in a three fingered salute, I can still remember it and it went like this:

“I promise that I will do my best to be true to myself and develop my beliefs, to serve the Queen and my community, to help other people and to keep the Brownie Guide law.”

Then at the end of the session we would link hands and lift them up and down to simulate bells whilst singing a song that I do still remember that went like this:

“Oh Lord our god, thy children call, grant us life ease, and bless us all, goodnight.”

Then the leaders would say “Goodnight Brownies” and we’d go home like that was normal. Our parents not only knew about this, but fully supported it because where I live that’s just a normal part of childhood that’s looked back upon fondly, and they get these children in YOUNG, the Rainbows are like six or seven, and it’s not just girls, the boys have Scouts. But it’s not just the meetings that were odd, when I was too old to be a Brownie (you can only go when you’re eight to ten years old) there was a special moving up ceremony where I could become a Guide. You might wonder “What’s so strange about that?” Well, after being given a book to read about the mythological story behind the creation and ethos of the group involving a talking owl, the chosen girls would be lifted by the arms by two of the leaders and ‘flown’ over a plastic replica toadstool (I’m in a wheelchair so I just wheeled around it), then they would stand before a fake pond, spin around three times, then recite:

“Twist me and turn me and show me the elf, I looked in the water and there saw myself.”

Then we’d get a badge and people would clap. I thought nothing of it at the time but it was only after I left Guides (I could have kept going and eventually become a leader myself) that I realised just how odd it was. And that was just the modern day, back in World War Two these little girls were used to gather scraps to make weapons as well as to raise money and spread flyers for the war effort. Is it just me that finds this whole thing kind of culty? 😂