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tonycries · 4 months

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Men In Uniform Do It Best! Dirty Lil' Secrets A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck) I'm Addicted, I Admit It! Give Me Tough Love Never Ever Seen This Before! We Don't Have No Babies! Like A Fever Bad Things (To You) Prettier When Messy! Care For You! Green-eyed Monster So Lonely In My Mansion! Kiss Me More!

ONE-SHOTS

Three's a Crowd (But Four...)

“So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2]

There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Dream A Little Dream

For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.

Initiation!

“Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

One More? Please?

A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...

You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Hope They Catch Us

When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Unmistakably Yours

In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Madam Gojo

Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

LONGFICS

The Call

After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2]

You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Unhoneymooners!?

The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?!

When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Bad Boys Bring Roses

You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

ONE-SHOTS

Initiation!

Like An Animal

Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You

When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...

You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

F*ck You! (Literally)

Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

LONGFICS

Government Hooker

With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

ONE-SHOTS

Brooklyn Baby

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Initiation!

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

Initiation!

LONGFICS

ONE-SHOTS

Welcome To The Itadori's!

Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

LONGFICS

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine)

When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Freak On The Cam!

Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

ONE-SHOTS

LONGFICS

Exes who... Love Is Blind “She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.” Wanna Do Bad Things To You I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera Lemme Ride, Baby! Can I Fill You Up, Baby? "Pull On It. Harder." Little Heaven

#masterlist #jjk masterlist #jjk x reader #tonynavi

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ozzgin · 6 months

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Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later

Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.

Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.

Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.

Happy holidays

-🌟

I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)

Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Enjoy your holidays!"

The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.

What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion.

Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth.

The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays.

"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."

"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort.

You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room.

Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.

Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification.

"Bored?"

Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food.

Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile.

There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.

"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."

Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip.

This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?

You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered.

"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."

He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black.

Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.

"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."

He frowns at your words.

"I'll take care of it."

You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically.

"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.

"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression.

"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."

Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind.

"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."

Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously.

"Are you spying on me or something?"

He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.

"Forgive me, Miss."

When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.

"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Good boy."

#female reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc

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adrienneleclerc · 16 days

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hiii! i was wondering if you could do a fic based on this yt video with charles?

https://youtube.com/shorts/33NhUYNKqu8?si=90BAJ_FLoZFkq9pa

I just think it's so cute and he would be so pouty about it. like when the guy in the video was like, "he needs to wear glasses , what a nerd!" i was thinking about reader going, well you wear glasses too amour. i just think it would be so fluffy and cute lol.

Ooh yes! But I decided that Y/N also wears glasses because I wear glasses, and I think it would be hilarious.

Nerdy Glasses?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Reader

Summary: Y/N decides to show Charles her favorite holiday movie and his reaction is hilarious to say the least.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: i have never seen The Holiday but I have seen this YouTube short many times

Y/N turned on the TV and got comfortable on the couch.

“Mon coeur, it’s not even Christmas yet, do we have to watch this movie?” Charles asked.

“I didn’t see you complaining when I made you watch Exmas last night.” Y/N said, getting her Calvin Klein glasses to watch the movie clearly, sitting back down.

“Fine, put it on, amour.” Charles said, sitting beside her.

“Thank you, I will.” Y/N got the remote and set up the movie. She snuggled into Charles and it was all going well until he saw that Y/N was practically swooning over Jude Law.

“Is he really that good looking that this is your favorite Christmas movie?” Charles asked,

“I mean technically my favorite Christmas movie is The Santa Clause, but it’s cute.” Y/N said.

“Why? Is it because he’s British? I speak French, mon coeur, the most romantic language in the world.” Charles said.

“Ay ya párale, muñeco, im trying to watch the movie.” Y/N said, a few minutes go by.

“He’s not that good looking, I bet there’s something wrong with him.” Charles commented and Y/N stared at him.

“Like what, please tell me.” Y/N said,

“I bet the cameras make him look taller.” Charles said.

“Please, he’s literally your height, don’t even lie, you’re 5’11 on a GOOD day.” Y/N said.

“I’m 1.80m Y/N, you live in Monaco, learn our metric system.” Charles said.

“Oh shut it, you have no idea how big the states truly are, now shush.” Y/N said, turning back to the TV. They get to the scene where Jude Law says he lost his contact lenses.

“You see! He needs to wear glasses, what a nerd.” Charles said. Y/N turns to stare at him.

“Muñeco, you wear glasses when you’re on the sim. You own those thick black framed glasses too and you sometimes wear them out.” Y/N said.

“But this glasses are by choice, his are prescription.” Charles said.

“Oh so are my prescription glasses nerdy to you, Charles? Am i nerd because i wear glasses?” Y/N argues and Charles stammers.

“Of course not, mon coeur, I actually think you look really sexy in those glasses.” Charles attempts to save himself.

“Mm hmm.” Y/N said, not believing him.

“I swear, it’s kind of a turn on when you wear your glasses, especially with your hair up” Charles commented.

“You are such a guy, let’s just keep watching the movie, yeah?” Y/N said, Turing back to the screen,

“Yeah.” Charles said. Y/N then whispers in his ear.

“It’s a turn on when you wear your glasses too.” And Y/N pulled away to continue watching the movie. However, when the movie ended, Charles had a new appreciation for wearing glasses.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I think it turned out cute, I’ve also been thinking I should make more headers like this for my other fanfics

#hispanic reader #hispanic #nerdy glasses #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #latina #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic

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rebelfell · 18 days

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urgent.

eddie munson x fem!reader

"I want it to be urgent. Like you can't keep your hands off me."

Smut blurb featuring no *actual* smut, in which Eddie is doing his best to help you get over your ex. Cause that's what friends are for. Right? cw: drinking/smoking, references to sex acts.

18+ MDNI 2.8k

“Alright, that’s it. I need another.”

The cushions of Eddie’s well-worn sofa bounced beneath you as he stood, sighing as he headed to the kitchen. His shaggy hair flew up as he glanced back at you with a playful twinkle in his eye that fully betrayed his attempt to sound irate.

“Can’t believe you talked me into watching this shit,” he added with a scoff, indicating the movie flickering on his television screen.

With a quiet giggle, you tucked your legs further up underneath you and squished deeper into your seat. The smile on your face only widened when he returned carrying two new bottles, one of which he passed into your waiting hand.

He’d successfully bribed you into coming over for a long overdue movie night by texting a picture of his fridge that was almost barren except a case of your favorite beer and a couple boxes of day-old pizza captioned, “how can you resist???”

Evidently, you couldn’t. Hence your arrival at his door not even an hour later, swathed in baggy sweats and a giant hoodie without a speck of make-up on your face. Your uniform of late.

“She lives!”

He bellowed in his mad scientist best, practically dragging you through the door to wrap you up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack your bones and made your lungs ache as they attempted to draw air—as if he thought he could wring the sadness out of you like a sponge.

Admittedly, it had been too long since you’d seen him. And not just him, but any of your friends.

For weeks now, you’d been using excuses of work and needing to catch up on laundry or cleaning to avoid facing them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see people. You just knew any attempt to hang out would only lead to questions about your recent break-up.

Questions you didn’t have the answers to, nor the mental capacity to tackle.

Eddie was a safe bet in that regard.

He’d always had what you could only call a morbid curiosity about your love life. If he asked about it, he did so in such a way that it made you feel like he was sort of dreading the answer? Like checking under a shoe to make sure a spider was really dead. You had figured that he of all people wouldn’t press you for too many details.

It was as close to a perfect evening as possible.

The remaining half of the joint you shared still sat smoldering in the ashtray on the coffee table. The two of you basked in the rosy glow of Christmas lights strung up on the walls he had yet to take down even as summer rapidly approached.

Beer and pizza sat in your belly, it and the weed only making the travesty of a bad movie you had basically bullied him into watching all the funnier.

You’d almost, almost, forgotten about your current tragic circumstances. And then…

“We can talk about it, you know,” Eddie said during a quiet stretch of the movie.

He instantly clocked the stiffening of your spine and the tensing of your shoulders he knew had nothing to do with the appearance of the killer following a side character down an alley.

“We don’t have to,” he went on, forcibly keeping his eyes forward like he was talking to the guy on screen now getting gutted, “I’m just saying if you wanted to, we could. Or we can just keep drinking and watching this garbage.”

With a laugh, he indicated the screen again.

The killer completed his deed and the wide shot revealed a painfully obvious dummy version of his victim lying on the ground beneath him. You were also pretty sure a boom mic dipped into frame.

It made you chuckle along with him and you turned your head, finding his doe eyes shining in that annoyingly endearing way of his that never failed to soften you to his whims.

“It wasn’t anything bad-bad,” you muttered, half talking to yourself. “He was just sort of…selfish.”

“Selfish how?” Eddie asked, brow knitting in confusion. “Like he hogged the covers? What?”

“No, like…”

Your cheeks burned as you stared at your hands in your lap, your thumbnail scraping against the pulpy label of your beer bottle that had begun to sweat profusely the longer it went un-drunk.

“Like in bed,” you said at last. “He didn’t ever go down on me, or do much of anything other than jump straight to fucking. And it was always over very…quick. Once he came, it was right back to business as usual. He wouldn’t check in with me or even me ask what I—”

Your voice wavered slightly and you clamped your mouth closed, forcing back the bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth. With a deep and steadying breath, you finished your thought.

“I just didn’t feel like a priority.”

The detached tone was one you’d been working on for weeks. You knew eventually you’d have to crawl out of the hole you’d banished yourself into and when you did, you would have to sound okay with the fact that you’d been burned yet again by another guy you foolishly got your hopes up for.

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. He shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing.

“Did he ever give a reason? I mean, did he…”

Eddie trailed off, not sure what he was getting at.

Because what kind of person had to be told to make their partner a priority? To make them feel important? Beyond just pleasure, beyond just making them come. How could anyone be lucky enough to land you and not do anything and everything they could to make it work?

His eyes bored into the coffee table, unable to lift his head to look you in the eye. It was hard for you to read the expression on his face. It looked like a cocktail of all the different things you had felt during your isolation. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Disgust. Pity.

“We talked about it.” I talked about it, you wanted to say. “But he wasn’t interested in changing, so I said we should end it. And we did.”

Your words seemed to hang in the air after you said them. Eddie stayed silent a few moments longer, seemingly deep in thought. The movie played on, but the words and pictures both sort of blurred into static neither of you were paying much attention to anymore.

“That’s awful,” he said at last. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes darted up, surprised by the softness in his voice. The soothing, calming reassurance thing was much more Nancy’s speed. You knew Eddie could be sweet, but it was always buried under a million layers of sarcasm the same way he hid himself behind the armor of his leather jacket and denim vest. By the look on his face, he’d surprised himself as well.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser,” he grumbled, almost angry. “You were right to dump him.”

“Maybe,” you sighed back, staring down at your lap again. The swishing of Eddie’s curls told you he was shaking his head emphatically.

“There’s no maybe about it,” he insisted, tipping his beer back to take a long swig. “If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you he doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, s’far as I’m concerned.”

The tiniest smile emerged on your lips when you heard the little southern drawl that crept into his voice whenever he got a bit worked up. It makes him sound like his uncle Wayne grumbling about the noisy neighborhood kids or “those damn bureaucrats with their burea-crock-a-shits.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding weakly. “I know it was the right decision and all, I just…it all feels so fucking hopeless. Even if I find another guy who seems nice, who knows if he’ll stay that way? I don’t want to just fuck a bunch of frogs on the off-chance one of them is a prince.”

Eddie snorted, nearly spraying the sip of beer he’d just taken out of his nose as you went on.

“The worst part is I’m so, like…”

You shook your head as you laughed in disbelief, hiding your face with your hand as it flushed with heat at what you had almost blurted out. Were you really about to say this?

His brown eyes danced under arched brows. He smirked, daring you to say it. Fuck it.

“I’m so pent up, my vibrator is gonna file a complaint for hazardous working conditions.”

“Maybe you need a new vibrator,” Eddie suggested. Or someone new behind the wheel.

You shoved his shoulder playfully, wide smiles spreading across both your faces. He grabbed at your wrist, wrestling your hand away and bringing it towards his mouth, feigning like he was going to bite. Squealing giggles erupted out of you as you pulled it back and he gnashed at the air.

Breathless from laughing, you settled back into your seat and inhaled deeply a few times trying to catch your breath. Eddie brought his hands back to his lap and looked down, allowing a small smile at seeing your face light up like it just had.

He’d do anything to see you like that.

“I will say,” you started, absently drawing circles on the arm of the couch, avoiding his gaze as his eyes jumped to your face, “It would be so great to get, like…one good night. You know, just scratch the itch so I can think clearly for once.”

Eddie paused, mulling again.

What he meant to say was…what if it was with someone you knew? Someone familiar you were comfortable with? Someone you knew you could trust to take care of you? What if it was someone you had known a long time, who cared about you and would put you first the way you deserved?

But the words that actually came out were—

“I could do it.”

“You…what?”

He knows that sound. That nervous, breathy little exhale that just came out of you. You blinked at him, stunned into silence as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. Eddie shrugged.

“I’m just saying, you don’t want to fuck a stranger. And I’m certainly not a stranger, so…”

He gestured vaguely at himself with his hands, a goofy little movement that had you rolling your eyes and tssing at him through your teeth.

“Eddie, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid!” he exclaimed, only to stop and reconsider. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. But I'm also being serious. You’re my friend and I wanna help you out. However I can.”

“You seriously think…” You shook your head. “I mean, are you even attracted to me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he groaned, “is that even a question?”

“No, Ed, I’m serious. Really think about it.”

So, Eddie thought about it.

He thought about that two-piece you wore that one sticky-hot summer day when you all piled into he and Argyle’s vans and drove out to Lover’s Lake to swim. He thought about how he had to keep reminding himself not to stare and how his shorts got so uncomfortably tight until he had to fuck off into the trees for ten minutes to take care of himself. And how when he got back, he had endured everyone’s teasing about taking a shit in the woods—because he would much rather they thought that was what he was doing instead of jerking off in front of some voyeuristic squirrel.

He thought about the way your lips wrapped around the end of every joint he’d ever shared with you and how his heart would race when you asked him for a shotgun. He thought about that one time he was sick as shit and had that fever dream about you in a nurses outfit he’d torn off you piece by piece, kissing you all over your body until you were writhing underneath him crying out his name until he woke with a violent jolt and had to throw his sheets in the wash at 4am.

And now not only was he extremely sure he was attracted to you, he also had a significant piece of evidence to back up his claim.

“I think it’s safe to say I am,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat.

Your eyes flitted down to his lap and you inhaled sharply at the sight of his growing bulge and the piss-poor job his thin sweats did of concealing it. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it and you simply had to laugh at the absurdity. If only it hadn’t come out so breathy and nervous…

“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering to a suggestive timbre as he scooted in closer. “Are you attracted to me? Really think about it.”

Your pulse thrummed as your eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. Cutoff sleeves that showed off his taught arms, inked all over with scratcher tattoos. Narrow hips sort of mesmerizing in the way they swiveled whenever he played guitar on stage. Fingers that moved dazzlingly fast over the strings and had made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like for him to play Master of Puppets on your pussy.

It made your mouth flood with saliva, and other wetness gush between your legs.

“What if…we kissed?” he asked slowly, his eyes locked so intently on your lips you could almost feel the heat of his gaze on them. “Just to see? Just in case?”

In case of what?

You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come. You were too breathless as he drew you in.

You’ve seen Eddie kiss girls before.

Whether it was out at a random dive bar after his band played, or some house party in a house you didn’t recognize. You’ve seen how he cups their faces in his hands, large grasp nearly engulfing their entire head. You’ve seen the way his eyes hooded and how that insufferably smug, knowing smile of his turns up the corners of his mouth as he goes in for the kill. You’ve seen how his fingers spread wide to cradle their heads as they gave into him and felt the way it made something stir, however briefly, deep in the pit of your belly.

But you’ve never been that girl. It’s never been your face in his hands or your lips parting, waiting for the touch of his. And now that it’s happening…you don’t have any idea why you waited so long.

His mouth is gentler than you thought it would be, his lips soft and smooth as two pink petals of some flower you can’t name. You can feel the distinctness of their shape moving against your own and can still taste the malt of your favorite beer in his mouth, but the combination makes it into something new—something unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before.

You can just barely feel the tip of his tongue swiping at the entrance of your lips and it’s purely instinctual the way you open up for him to grant him access. He moans softly into your mouth, a plaintive little noise that sets your blood on fire. Suddenly, you’re possessed. Fisting his shirt in your grasp, dragging him with you as you lean backwards and sink deep into the cushions.

“I take it we’ve got the green light?” he asks in a throaty chuckle.

You answer by pulling him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in the hairs that run along the nape of his neck, twisting his curls in your grasp as you tug him back onto your mouth.

His hand wandered downwards, dipping into your sweats to cup your heat over your panties, his two middle fingers stroking at the arousal gathering there. His touch is teasingly light and yet he has you held firmly in his grasp, just enough to have you mewling into his mouth seeking more.

“Tell me exactly how you want it,” he groaned as he peppered hot kisses along the column of your throat, his voice soft but solid. “I want it to be just what you need. Just how you like it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts with his teeth nipping so sweetly at your neck, and all the rings on his fingers pressing into your skin as he squeezed the curve of your waist. And through the haze his touch and teeth and lips created in your head, you managed an answer.

“I…I want it to be urgent. Like you can’t keep your hands off of me,” you sucked in another breath, “Like I’m all you’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie’s head lifted and you tensed just slightly under his reverent gaze. His eyes drifted across your face, all round and glassy and searching, as if he was trying to memorize every inch.

And then, as immediately as he’d paused, he was burying his face in your neck again, body grinding into yours with a newfound sense of desperation as he growled out a single word,

“Done.”

thank you for reading :) love you, mean it!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

Text

Propaganda

Vyjayanthimala (Madhumati, Amrapali, Sangam, Devdas)—Strong contender for /the/ OG queen of Indian cinema for over 2 straight decades. Her Filmfare Lifetime Achievement Award came not a moment too soon with 62 movies under her belt. Singer, dancer, actor, and also has the most expressive set of eyes known to man

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vyjayanthimala:

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Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

youtube

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #vyjayanthimala #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6 #Youtube

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andvys · 10 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 7

Warnings: slight angst, reader and Eddie getting high together, mentions of cheating and break up's, mentions of bullying, reader and eddie are really affectionate with each other but it’s all platonic. mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of Eddie's abusive dad

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Eddie tells you about the night he found Steve at the hideout.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: well, I finally figured out how to make headers, let’s see if I will keep doing them haha

masterlist

The room smells like hot chocolate, cinnamon and a hint of Eddie’s cologne. The mug on the table that was filled to the brim is now halfway empty. A box of Christmas cookies that your mom gave him when he came by last night is in between the two of you. He hasn’t stopped munching on them since you started the movie; Halloween.

You couldn’t choose between Friday the 13th and Halloween so you let him pick.

After you let your friends know that you were leaving, you and Eddie went to the diner to eat something before you went back to his trailer after renting a few movies at Family Video.

“I can’t believe that this is your favorite movie,” Eddie says as he bites into the snowflake shaped cookie.

You turn to look at him. He is still wearing the same clothes as before just like you.

“Are you judging me?” You snort, swatting his arm. “You literally picked it.”

He chuckles and looks at you with a smirk, “I picked between the ones you chose.”

“You literally said that Halloween is one of your favorite movies!”

He shrugs, chewing the cookie before he speaks up again, “maybe I lied.”

You roll your eyes and lean back, “so what’s your favorite movie then, master of dungeons?”

The nickname makes him chuckle, he turns his head away from the screen, “Halloween.”

He laughs when you shake your head in disbelief, grabbing one of the pillows, you hit him with it, causing him to laugh harder.

“Dork.”

He snorts at you, “dork? What happened with the master of dungeons?”

You lean closer to him and look into his eyes with a serious look on your face, “he turned into a massive dork.”

“If I’m a dork then what are you?”

“A fairy witch,” you wink at him and reach for one of the cookies before you lean back.

His eyes flash with amusement, his lips curl into a smile, “right,” he laughs, “is the fairy witch gonna stay over tonight?”

You face him again, the cookie is still in your hand. There’s a knowing look in his eyes.

He knows your mom won’t be home tonight, she is working the night shifts this week and won’t be home until the morning. If there is one thing that Eddie had learned about you in the time you had become friends, is that you hate going to sleep when you are home alone, he doesn’t know why but he noticed your anxiety early on. He saw the tired look in your eyes in the mornings and he noticed how easily you would drift off to sleep when he came by after school to study. You would make up excuses when he’d ask you about it but he could see through you.

He doesn’t know the reasoning behind your fears but he understands it. When he was a kid, he was restless, he struggled to sleep at nights because of his dad, who usually came home late after spending the night drinking or doing drugs. Whenever Eddie would hear the front door opening, his heart would start racing and he would be on high alert – his dad always picked fights with his mom and all Eddie ever wanted to do was to protect her. But he was just a kid and his dad was a violent man.

Eddie couldn’t protect her.

When he moved in with Wayne, nothing changed for the first few months. He kept staying up at nights – the anxiety and the fear that always lingered kept him up. Whenever he would fall asleep, nightmares would wake him up. He would hear the trailer door being slammed open, he would hear his mom screaming, his dad yelling and hitting things. Eddie would wake in cold sweat, he would jump up from the bed and run out of the room to stop his dad from hitting her only to realize that the trailer door never opened, his dad never came in and his mom would never be there again.

He knows that you are struggling with something too but he would never push you to talk. He just wants to protect you.

“We could watch Friday the 13th and y’know, share a joint.”

You swallow.

“You don’t mind me staying over?”

Eddie frowns at your question and shakes his head, “why would I ask if I minded you staying over? You know you’re always welcome here, sweetheart.”

You smile at his words. Eddie always knows how to make you feel safe and comfortable. Heather and Chrissy make you feel that way too but it’s different with them. You love and appreciate them but there are things that you can’t say to them – not because you don’t trust them but because you wouldn’t be able to deal with their pitiful looks, it’s been bad enough already after he dumped you.

You aren’t the only one who refuses to speak about certain things. You know that Chrissy has a secret, one that Heather is keeping safe from you. It hurts a little because a part of you is scared that it might have something to do with you. Why else would they keep a secret from their best friend?

“Then I’d love to stay the night.”

He smiles, “cool.”

After you finish watching the movie, you carry the empty mugs and the box of cookies back into the kitchen. Eddie turns off the TV and reaches for the other movie tape before he leads you into his room. He turns on the small lamp on his nightstand and throws the tape on his bed. He walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer.

“You know, the joint you mentioned earlier…” you mumble as you let yourself fall on his bed, curiously staring at the handcuffs that remain a mystery to you.

“You know, they should be calling you ‘the stoner’, not me,” he snorts. He turns back to you and hands you a shirt, he eyes you up and down, “here, that dress is pretty but it can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs.

“How kind of you,” you chuckle. You unfold the shirt, your eyes widen a little, “isn’t that your favorite one?”

He nods as he takes the chain around his neck off and places it on his nightstand.

“My favorite girl gets my favorite shirt,” he says, ruffling your hair as he winks at you.

You swat his hand away and laugh, “how many girls do you say that to, Eddie?”

He raises his brows and places his hand on his chest, “you think I’m bringing home girls? Did you forget who I am?” He laughs, shaking his head.

You furrow your brows. You drop the shirt on your lap and tilt your head to look at him.

You and Eddie haven’t been friends for long but you feel comfortable with each other – comfortable enough for him to take his shirt off in front of you. He throws it over his chair, he stands there shirtless for a second, scratching the spot around his new tattoo. He is just your friend but you are not blind, Eddie is pretty in a way no other guy at school is – except for Steve.

“You’re saying that you don’t bring any girls home?” You ask as you carefully pull the straps of your dress down your arms before you put the shirt on. Too lazy to get up and change in the bathroom, you take the dress off after pulling the shirt down to your thighs.

He puts on a black tank top and closes the drawer. “And no, I don’t bring any girls home. I’m a freak, nobody wants me.”

“Don’t say that,” you frown.

“Well, it’s the truth,” he chuckles as he drops down on the bed beside you after getting the pre rolled joint and a lighter, “girls don’t want me and honestly, I don’t care. I wouldn’t want to bring random girls home anyways.”

You raise your brows in surprise, it makes him chuckle but his eyes flash with confusion.

“What?”

“You actually wouldn’t bring home girls?” You ask. “Like, not even if they were throwing themselves at you?”

“You mean if I was popular?” He snorts.

You nod.

He shakes his head, he scoots closer to you and offers you the joint. You take it in between your fingers and bring it up towards your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, you look at him expectedly, nudging your chin towards the lighter in his hand. He holds it up to the joint and flicks the lighter, holding the flame against the bud of the joint. You inhale and close your eyes.

Eddie chuckles and pats your back when you open your eyes and exhale the smoke without coughing this time.

“Like a real stoner.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle and offer him the joint which he takes right away. He places it in between his lips and lies back, tucking his arm behind the pillow. He looks up at the ceiling and sighs after exhaling the smoke. For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you.

You stand up and place your dress over the back of his chair after folding it. You turn on the TV before you plop back down on the bed.

“I won’t lie to you, I’ve hooked up with uh – maybe three girls but they didn’t bother sticking around, they wouldn’t even look at me afterwards, they looked disgusted, every single one of them. I-I don’t know what I was thinking, I was hoping that it would be different each time but they were the same, all of them. The sex was good but uh I honestly don’t see the point of it if they don’t bother sticking around or if there’s no actual meaning behind it.”

Your heart breaks for him. You can imagine what he must have felt like when they treated him that way. You can see the sadness in his eyes, even when he tries to mask it.

You scoot closer to him and reach for his hand, his eyes meet yours and he smiles at you.

“You deserve better Eddie,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “They were stupid cunts.”

A laugh falls from his lips, he tries to mask the hurt in his eyes with amusement but you can see through him, just like he can see through you.

“You know, Steve wouldn’t look at me either, sometimes. He just uh, he would fuck me, he would finish and then he would pass out. He rarely ever held me or kissed me, he almost never said ‘I love you’ either.”

Eddie frowns at your words. He isn’t shocked but he is angry.

“It hurt so bad because I loved him so much and all I wanted was for him to just hold me and tell me that he loves me but he didn’t and it made me overthinking everything,” you mumble as you blink the tears away, “and then there was Tommy who always said how men need new partners all the time, how they get bored with their girlfriends and I was praying that that wasn’t the case for Steve, that the reason why he never held me or kissed me was because he was just bad at being affectionate and romantic but then he agreed with what he said even though I was right there and it uh, it hurt, really fucking bad. I kinda lied to myself though, I kept telling myself that he did love me, that he didn’t get bored with me but then he left me for her and he changed for her so uh, I figured that Tommy was right all along.”

Eddie scoffs, he shakes his head at your words, “that’s not true, sweetheart.”

“It’s not?” You ask as you look back up at him.

“No. Tommy is a shittalker and Steve is an idiot – like a real idiot,” Eddie says as his eyes widen. He laughs a little, it’s a humorless laugh but a laugh nonetheless. “He was a piece of shit for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated but I think that he is one of those guys who lets his friends words get to him, who feels pressured to keep his reputation as some fucking heartbreak King rather than be a good boyfriend.” He looks like he knows something that you don’t. “He’s also the type of guy who doesn’t know what he has until it’s gone.”

“That makes sense,” you say even though you are not sure whether it actually makes sense or not. He almost kissed you and then he told you that he still loves you, that he always loved you only to show up to the dance with Nancy, like nothing ever happened.

Eddie stares at you. Your brows are furrowed and you have that same confused and lost look in your eyes that you always have whenever you get lost in your thoughts.

“Hey uh, I should probably tell you something,” he says as he sits up. He scratches the back of his neck and offers you the joint. You take it but don’t smoke it yet.

“What’s up?”

He runs his fingers through his curls and he takes a deep breath, “I drove him home last night.”

“Huh?”

He sighs, “Steve. I drove him home last night. I went to the Hideout to get my notebook and he was there getting plastered. He followed me outside and started asking about the jacket,” he mumbles, pointing to the jacket that is now back in his room again. “He got all pissed and jealous.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his words.

“He calmed down when I told him we’re friends but uh, he tried to leave and I would’ve felt awful letting him drive home like that so I drove him home.”

A smile tugs at your lips, Eddie’s kindness is something that always warms your heart. To know that he is showing such kindness to people who don’t deserve it just proves even more how amazing he is.

“He started crying.”

A shocked expression takes over your face and you draw back a little, “what?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles as he shakes his head. “He uh– well, first he insulted my music taste and then I turned on the radio for him, David Bowie came on and boom, I have a sobbing King Steve in my van.”

“Oh,” you whisper, your gaze softens. “David Bowie?”

“Mhmm.” He reaches for the joint again and places it between his lips, taking a drag before he places it into the ashtray on his nightstand. “Heroes.”

Your lips part and your face falls. It was your song. Yours and his. To know that it has such a hold on him still, makes you feel things that you want to keep buried.

You push yourself up and sit in front of him, “then what?”

Eddie’s brown eyes soften, he can see the pain in your features, the love that you still have for him. He can’t imagine how much pain there still is. He clears his throat.

“He said he misses you, that he doesn’t know what to do without you and that he wants you back.”

Your eyebrows draw together and your eyes feel hot with tears. Your heart hurts. After all, you still want him, deep down you do but you won’t take him back, not after everything he did. Not after the way he treated you, not after he cheated on you emotionally, not after he made you doubt everything, not after he told you that he never loved you, not after he left you for another girl.

You look down to hide the tears in your eyes. After almost two months, you should be feeling better, you were starting feeling better but then he had to rip the bandaids of your wounds that he had given you.

You don’t like crying in front of other people, you have never cried in front of Eddie before but right now, you can’t really stop the tears from falling. It’s all just too much.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. His eyes soften and he doesn’t even hesitate before he opens his arms for you, offering you a hug that you so desperately need. You crawl over to him and let yourself fall into his arms. He wraps his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest. He rubs your back gently. “I’m here, I got you.”

You close your eyes and melt into the hug, this is what you needed.

This is what he never gave you. The feeling of comfort and safety. The feeling of knowing that he won’t push you away again after a few minutes.

You loved Steve – you love him. He was there but he was never with you. His mind was somewhere else, it always was. He gave you moments but he never gave you his all. With him you were never alone but god, you were so lonely.

Eddie keeps holding you. The sound of your cries and the voices in the TV fill the silence in the room.

He keeps rubbing your back, he plays with your hair and he doesn’t let go.

Why couldn’t he just hold you like he does?

“I know that this won’t make anything better but I think he loves you and he is starting to realize what he lost – only a man in love would get drunk at a bar he hates and break down in front of a guy he hates, also.”

You sniffle and grip his shirt tighter.

“Then why is he still with her? Why didn’t he love me before?”

“I think he always loved you, he was just too dumb to see and she,” he pauses, sighing. “She’s probably just a rebound now. Honestly, I think he was scared of all of this, his love for you. He was scared of it so he just threw it away and fucked it all up and now he’s following you around like some lost puppy.”

He does look like one, with his stupid brown eyes and the sad look in them.

“Why are you telling me this, Eddie?”

He takes a deep breath, he looks down at you but you hide your face as you wipe your tears away.

“I don’t know, I just think that he made a mistake and that the pain he put himself through shaped him into a different person,” he says, still glancing down at you, “I know you think that she changed him but that’s not the truth. I think he changed because of you – he’s still a dick and I don’t think that he deserves you but for what it’s worth, he does love you and he did love you even when he didn’t act that way but I saw the way he looked at you.”

You sniffle, trying to control your breathing as you look up at him, “what do you mean?”

His eyes soften and he hugs you even tighter, “when you were still together, he always looked at you like.. shit, like you hung the moon and the stars,” he chuckles. “I was shocked when I found out that he left you for some other girl. Made no sense to me, still doesn’t, by the way.”

You don’t know whether his words make you feel better or worse.

Eddie’s brown eyes are filled with sincerity and softness.

He can’t understand how Steve could do this to you. How he could just treat you so horribly and break your heart so easily.

“I think he really wants you back but I don’t think that he deserves a second chance, not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“I’m not gonna say that he will ever deserve one but maybe–” he pauses, he sighs as he watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, “maybe he will change and maybe he will fight for you and maybe it will be worth giving him that chance.”

You scrunch your face up and slowly shake your head, “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” he says as he squeezes your arms, “it’s just, I can see that you love him and as much as I don’t like him or the idea of you going back to him, he really loves you too – it would be a shame if you both spend the rest of your lives longing for each other when you could just be together.”

“What would you do?” You ask. You place your palms against his chest and you lean your chin on the top of your hands. “If you were in my place.”

He blinks and he stares at you for a long moment.

“I would just focus on myself for now,” he mumbles. He reaches his hand out to touch your hair, running his fingers through it, “I would find things that I enjoy doing – not what I was forced to enjoy.”

You look down and sigh.

“I would try out new things, focus on school and I know that you will snatch that diploma, I’d get the hell out of here after that. Maybe in the future, you and Steve will find your way back to each other or maybe you will meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved,” he says.

You’re met with a soft look in his eyes when you raise your head to face him again. You smile at him.

“You will snatch that diploma too, Eddie. I’ll help you.”

“I know you will,” he smiles.

“And then we should get out of here together – we should move to LA so you can become the rockstar that you’re meant to be. We can rent a place together, I always wanted to live with a friend.”

He laughs at your words but then he falls quiet and his eyes flash with something you can’t read.

“You know that might be a good idea.”

“I know it is.”

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we should actually do that.”

“Right?”

“Right,” he smiles.

“And what will you be?” He asks, turning his head to look at you as you lie back beside him.

You lick your lips and stare at the new poster on his ceiling. What do you want to be? Who do you want to be?

You furrow your brows in concentration, a weird feeling settles in your chest. You don’t know. You don’t know anything, it seems like. Who even are you?

“I-I’m not sure.”

Eddie can sense the stress you’re feeling, he takes your hand in his, “hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to know yet.”

“I just.. I don’t even know what I want, Eddie,” you whisper, “I don’t even know who I am.”

You turn back to him, your sad eyes meet his. He squeezes your hand.

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will and I’ll be there with you.”

You maintain eye contact and scoot closer to him as you turn on your side.

“You’re the best, Eddie.”

His eyes shift as he stares at you, he turns on his side as well, “nah, you are the best,” he smiles, tapping your nose the way he always does.

“Don’t tell Heather or Chrissy but you might be my new best friend.”

His eyes light up at your words and his smile widens, “only if you don’t tell Gareth and Jeff that you are my new best friend.”

Your eyes widen, a giggle falls from your lips, “your secret is safe with me.”

“Yours is safe with me too.”

“Pinky promise?” You ask as you hold your hand out to him.

He laughs and brings his hand up, hooking his pinky around yours, “pinky promise.”

You both fall silent as you look at each other with smiles on your faces.

“Shit, who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the queen of Hawkins High in my bed.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

For the rest of the night, you and Eddie talk about your lives after high school, dreaming about things that might never happen but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the laughs you both share. You watch Friday the 13th and continue passing the joint back and forth, only making each other laugh harder by making fun of the movie that isn’t even funny.

You are grateful for Eddie and for the love and kindness he is giving you. He has become your little beacon of hope. He is the one who makes you laugh now, he is the one who holds you when you need it the most, he is the friend that everything feels so natural with – even falling asleep in his arms when you’re in nothing but panties and his shirt. You wouldn’t have done that with any other guy but he makes you feel safe.

When you wake up in his arms the next morning, you feel lost and confused for a second. His arms are wrapped around your waist and your head is on his chest, you can hear his heartbeat. For a moment, you thought you were somewhere else, in someone else’s arms but when you open your eyes and you are met with Eddie’s sleeping face, you relax a little.

You can’t help but smile as you look at him.

If Steve didn’t dump you, you wouldn’t be here. You would be in his bed right now. But you wouldn’t feel his arms around you, you wouldn’t feel his warmth, you wouldn’t feel him. You would wake up to a harsh reality, one where you continuously lied to yourself in order to keep him and to keep yourself happy. But were you ever happy?

You miss him, despite what happened, you still miss him.

But maybe it was for the better.

Maybe it had to happen this way.

You wouldn’t have Eddie now. You would have never become friends. And now, you wouldn’t trade this for anything in this world. This friendship has given you more than your relationship with Steve ever did.

Yet, you still need closure. You want answers and a peaceful conversation.

So you make the decision to try it. To try and talk and sort things out. You let go of him but there are still so many things that you don’t understand, things that will never give you if you don’t sit down and have that much needed conversation with him.

When you show up at his house, later that night. You didn’t expect to see his parents' car in the driveway, next to his. You stand in the darkness for a moment, contemplating whether you should actually ring the doorbell or not. The lights are on in the kitchen and in the dining room.

What if she is here?

What if they are having dinner together?

Is she sitting in your spot now?

Does his mom like her the way she always liked you?

Does his dad hug her the way he hugged you whenever he saw you?

You close your eyes and you take a deep breath, inhaling the cold air. You try to calm your heartbeat. Was it a good idea to come here? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if–

You open your eyes and walk up the stairs, you ring the doorbell before your mind can convince you to turn on your heel and run. You can hear the faint sound of music in the house.

You dig your nails into your palms as you grow more and more nervous. You bounce your knee and stare down at the snow beneath your boots.

The door opens and you raise your head, for some reason you had expected Steve’s dad to open the door but instead it’s him. You watch as his eyes widen, they lighten up a little but they also flash with confusion.

“Hi, can we talk?”

next part

tagging friends & mutuals only!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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khruschevshoe · 5 months

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How Behind-the Scenes Issues Affected the Writing of Doctor Who (Both Good and Bad)

Doctor Who is such a fascinating show to look at from a Watsonian v. Doylist perspective. Like, entirely just from an episode writing point of view:

Twice Upon A Time feels so slow and meandering and even boring in places because Chris Chibnall didn't want to start his run as showrunner and Steven Moffat didn't want the show to lose the coveted Christmas timeslot (ironic, I know) so he bumped the Twelfth Doctor's regeneration from the end of The Doctor Falls (where it makes sense) to the end of the Christmas special

Boom Town (my beloved) only exists because originally there was going to be an episode in its spot explaining that Rose had been molded to be the Doctor's perfect companion (by the Doctor, gross) and the writer didn't have the time to commit to the show

The ending of Last Christmas feels like one inside-a-dream too many because originally Jenna Coleman was questioning whether she was going to leave the show or not and the ending was rewritten after the first readthrough when she decided she wanted to stay for another season

The first five episodes of Season 7 feel like each one takes place in a different genre because that's literally how Steven Moffat pitched it to the writers; for example, A Town Called Mercy was literally pitched as "Doctor Who does a Western"

Not so much a weird one but one I find cool: Eleven's first words and Thirteen's first words were literally written by Moffat and Chibnall respectively, as they were brought in to write the first words of the first Doctors of their runs so as to make it cohesive

The reason why Fourteen isn't wearing Thirteen's clothes when he regenerates is because Jodie Whittaker is much shorter than David Tennant and Russell T. Davies didn't want it to look like he was making fun of the genderfluidity of the Doctor (still think he made the wrong decision, but eh)

Wilfred Mott isn't in the Runaway Bride and Donna's father isn't in Partners in Crime because the actor who played Donna's father, Howard Attfield, died after filming several scenes for Partners In Crime, leading to the character of "Stan Mott" from Voyage of the Damned being written into Partners In Crime as Donna's grandfather

Astrid Peth doesn't die in the original drafts of Voyage of the Damned, but Russell T. Davies wrote what is generally considered one of the most emotional deaths in Doctor Who just because he wanted Kylie Minogue to be able to focus on her music career

Originally Oxygen was written as a prequel to Mummy on the Orient Express, where a corporate representative appeared on a monitor. Said representative was fired for his fumbling of the station and would later live on as the company computer, Gus

During Season 11, Chris Chibnall had to do some major rewrites for many of the one-off episodes, therefore The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos ended up being a first draft that made it to screen. He later admitted it was his least favorite episode of the series

And this is only a fraction of what I found in terms of major behind-the-scenes writing reasons. Though I am still totally willing to critique the product that made it to our screens, finding out the reasons behind some of the more badly written episodes of the show really made me feel sympathy for every showrunner of the show as well as appreciate a lot of the good episodes that ended up here despite the short production schedule/unexpected problems (once again, Boom Town my beloved AND everyone's favorite companion Wilfred Mott only exist because of unforseen problems). Absolutely bonkers, isn't it?

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lazyjellyfish300 · 27 days

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What's Mine is Yours💘

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader

CW: none, fluff, little self indulgent oops. Just something quick. INSPO FOR THE DISNEYLAND BIT: @teenidlegirl go read her Disneyland headcanons they're so good!

WC: 856 ish

----

As Miguel's partner, everything you love quickly becomes everything he loves too.

Miguel doesn't think of himself as easily influenced. He's not a follower by any means. I mean he's the spider society's leader. But now, that you're in his life, he's acting out of the ordinary.

Romance flicks? Could never really stomach those. Now he's seen all of the Nicholas Sparks movies and Twilight Saga. And of course he's Team Edward.

Those reality shows you love with a lot of fighting and drama he normally thought were insufferable? He's on season 9 episode 12 right along with you, even though he won't admit it.

He'll watch from the stairwell, eyes peeking down at the screen which you're so absorbed in. Over time, he'll eventually be at the bottom of the stairs, then the kitchen, then the room starts to get a little cold because he stood there watching with the refrigerator door open too long because he's just "getting a snack." Now he's standing behind the couch, arms folded.

He's like a vampire, he can't join unless you invite him in.

You give him a little sneaky grin as you pat the empty spot next to you on the couch and he shakes his head as he sits down, trying to play it all cool.

"I guess I can watch a little bit with you."

Then when the drama's getting good, his arm eventually leaves the spot from around your shoulders. He's leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, which he's nervously bouncing (I totally headcanon Miguel with having restless leg syndrome), his hands covering his face as he focuses intently on the screen until the villain finally gets the karma she deserves.

"Thank God! I'm sick of her ass!"

Those fluffy fuzzy socks you like to wear? He expects you to buy matching ones for him. And even when he has his own, he'll still fish yours out of the laundry basket. No wonder all of them turn up missing.

He came with you to get a pedicure just for shits and giggles, but when he put his feet in the warm water and laid back against the massaging chair? Oh yeah, he's coming with you every time now. Sorry.

Disneyland? Oh God, why would you drop hundreds of dollars to stand in line for 2 hours for a 3 minute ride? Crowds and people being dumb in public are his worst enemy. But, seeing how you cry at the fireworks and softly hum the music of all the Disney songs you've loved since you were a kid, how cute your cheeks look all puffed up when you go to town on a cream cheese pretzel, the way you scream on Big Thunder Mountain, the way you close your eyes and take a deep inhale every time you walk into Pirates of the Caribbean as the AC hits your face like it's crack, the way you smile and gush when you walk up to Winnie the Pooh and friends and give him a big hug while Miguel takes your picture.

Even the park is getting to him a little bit. You're making him feel special, like he's finally able to be a kid again, experience that giddy feeling of magic and a world where fantasy is real like through the eyes of a child, because he never had that growing up.

Okay, now he might be okay with going to Disney. But only every other year or so. And you can live with that for now. Walt Disney World is already booked on your calendar for next time. Now to convince him that airfare to Japan isn't even that expensive so you can also go to Tokyo Disney...

He never ate breakfast in the mornings besides like a protein shake or a black coffee at most. Now, going to cafes and a little pastry is religion to him, all thanks to you, his cute partner who reminds him it's the most important meal of the day.

His restaurant orders have changed, slightly. He'll try what you're having and soon all your favorite spots are now his.

You jokingly buy him his own skin moisturizer for Christmas because yours runs out much more quickly than it used to, when you catch him red handed using it behind your back.

He's been to more concerts, read some more books, ate some new foods, experienced more things all thanks to you.

He never so much as hung a stocking for Christmas, now the apartment halls are literally, decked out. He used to never answer the door on Halloween, now there's 8 boxes of king sized candy bars and a planned couples costume well in advance. He loathed Valentines Day and all that consumerism, Hallmark bs, now it's marked religiously on his calendar.

His whole world a little more colorful as he knows it.

A matching coffee mug sitting in the cupboard next to his that used to sit all alone.

Because one of the ways he feels the closest to you even when he can't be physically with you is to enjoy all of the things you love. They belong to him now too. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

----

@thatone-writer @1-900-venusluvs

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara x you

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star-daughter · 7 months

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So let's talk about Vivziepop's designing skills!

The amount of sadness I feel when I see Vivziepop's designs of the demons in Helluva Boss is impossibly high

Simply comparing them from where she is pulling from feels like looking at a newborn compared to a grandma. Now let's go through them!

Lucifer

Viv's Lucifer, a popular depiction of Lucifer ("The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel), and one with Jesus ("The Temptation of Christ" by Ary Scheffer)

You can see a big difference in a lot, as you can see Lucy (which will be Viv's version) has well. Clothing but we can give her a pass for that as I don't think Youtube would be fine with an animated dick on screen. Another thing is his lack of wings, bat-like or feathered along with blonde instead of red curled hair and yellow eyes instead of the blue Lucifer has in The Fallen Angel.

But what I see as the biggest thing is Lucy's lack of muscles! In both of these depictions I have chosen Lucifer appears muscular whilst Lucy has Viv's favorite smile and body shape.

Asmodeus

Here we have Viv's Asmodeus (Ozzie) and Asmodeus from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

I will give Viv major props, I LOVE Ozzie's design. If we removed the feathers, made his head bigger, and some small things it would be AMAZING! But comparing it to Asmodeus it's... wooo.... very different.

First you can see is Asmodeus does not look conventionally attractive with his strange old man face, elf ears, bull head, ram head, serpent tail, and literal chicken legs. Ozzie does have the 2 heads on his shoulders (just very small) and a tail (not a serpent one) but other than that the similarities end. Though I do think taking Asmodeus the direction to being physically attractive to most people was a good way to go.

A personal nit pick is the clear lack of a BADASS DRAGON. Yes, Asmodeus has a BADASS DRAGON. On his little Dictionnaire Infernal image he's sitting on a BADASS DRAGON which he holds a banner as he rides. Viv you could have made Fizz a cool dragon demon! Make him look LESS like Blitz's twin brother and more like something that related to the Ars Goetia canon.

Beelzebub

Now this is Viv's Beelzebub and a fly-like Beelzebub (Beelzebul) (I've left out the more manly versions of Beelzebub to keep it fair as Beelzebub is a woman)

So a big thing we can see is Beelzebub is a furry whilst Beelzebul is a straight up fly, taking the term "Lord of the Flies" much more seriously. Now comparing these two is basically impossible minus their wings and extra arms. Now with them looking nothing alike I'll put some of my own personal critique's in.

One, Beelzebub's hair and tail makes me want to vomit. It's constantly moving thus every frame it must be moved which is HORRIBLE on an animation stand point. Two, Her clothes. A direct quote from the Helluva Boss wiki says "Beelzebub represents the animal tamer/animal shows" when her clothing looks like that it's hard to believe. If it was casual clothes? Okay I'd believe that but it being her debut episode wouldn't you want her in her normal clothes? And that's ignoring her magical disappearing bra... is that just an arm strap? Three, the ear thing. God the ear thing! Viv said they were supposed to appear like beehives... girl what beehives have you been seeing? Maybe she meant honeycomb? Still I see zero resemblance.

Mammon

Here we have Viv's Mammon, Mammon (Mam) from the painting "The Worship of Mammon" by Evelyn De Morgan, and Mammon (Mon) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see Mammon looks like the Teen Titans Go Robin mixed with a Christmas tree, the Christmas theming is quite clever I'll give Viv that. Christmas is a time of greedily taking all that is given to you through gifts. Now I could complain about how Mammon is poor rep for a fat character and simply is a widened version of her normal body type but I already made a post about that

But comparing him to Mam and Mon? Nothing similar. Mam we can see appears like a very large naked buff dark skinned man whilst Mon is a freakish old man with wide eyes and tattered clothes. Mammon shares zero similarities to either of them.

Another thing is Mammon's monster form... I believe everybody has seen it and hochie momma it is HORRIBLE! From the screenshots I've seen we don't see all of it but he's clearly intended to be a spider of sorts which is great! Spiders can often be seen with 6 flies trapped on their web being hoarded for later but Viv seems to have taken the lazy route of extra legs and 2 extra set of eyes. Anthro spiders can be so so SO cool but I feel scammed. Stolen from. My life savings have been taken by this shitty design.

Paimon

Here we have Vivziepop's Paimon and Paimon (Paimonia) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see they appear nothing alike minus the crown and odd chicken legs though Paimon lacks the camel that Paimonia has. Paimonia also has a feminine face and a humanoid body, nothing like Paimon. Though I personally think Paimon's design is stunning what made Viv connect the two, is it because the Goetia family is intended to all be ripped from the Ars Goetia? I feel though that Paimon's design takes as much as it can from Paimonia while making him look related to Stolas but why does he need to be named Paimon?

Stolas

Here we have Vivzie's Stolas and Stolas (Stolos) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

So, I have a lot of issues with Stolas's design, it's ugly first of all but compared to Stolos's cute yet shocked wide eyes and charming little beak it's even more obvious how ugly it is.

First, Stolos is shown as an owl (but also is described as a Raven). which Viv got right along with keeping his crown and odd horn-like feathers. However, I believe making Stolas that skinny doesn't follow the model of most owls as they can be pretty fluffy and plump. Even Stolos has a round fluffy chest that trails into his comically long legs.

Second, that cape is very horrifying but not in a good way. Nobody wants to animate a cape with that many rips! Even if they don't have to be precise. Also, why do his buttons have no lineart when everything else around it has lineart? I have the same issue with Blitz's design and his random chest orbs.

Feel free to put in your own reblogs and replies with your opinions! You can also send in asks with designs from HH or HB that aren't linked to previously existing designs unlike these fellows and I'll throw in my personal thoughts.

-Mod Paimon

#mod paimon #helluva critical #anti helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique

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equalseleventhirds · 1 year

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"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

#long post #fanfiction #algie writes things #fjskdlfjdk SORRY ABOUT THIS BUT #i had to i had tooooooo #hammered this out v quickly and i am feelin v sleeby still so it's not polished but it IS funny #.......i think. i think it's funny. u kno.#anyway #sexymanotd #tumblr sexyman rematch #cecilsweep

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1d1195 · 6 days

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Strong

~3.9k words

From Me: Requested by @thechaoticjoy I'm sorry it took so long, I hope I did it justice. I'll post the corresponding ask a little bit after the story has been out so long as it's okay with you 💕 I'll message you to chat!

Warnings: parental death long-term illness, hospitals, angst, tragic backstory, really sad stuff in this one. But there's some really comforting notions in it, I think. A lot of strong MC attributes and I think there's a lot to be celebrated in this kind of strength

Summary: Harry's best friend is sweet, kind, beautiful, and intelligent. He wishes she would open up to him more. Only because he doesn't want her to have to be so strong for herself. He would love to be strong for her every now and again.

“She’s the best,” Gemma said knowingly. “Sweet, calm...she’s perfect for you.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah,” he shrugged.

“Come on Harry, you can’t possibly ignore it. It’s...nice. Different. She’s perfect.” Her smile reflected the same one as Harry. Something they both inherited from their mother. Something that Harry loved to point to when looking at the relationship between them. He liked to believe the kindness he had came from the words his mum and sister spoke. A trait that was passed down to him since he didn’t get hand-me-downs from Gemma.

The sweet girl was quietly putting things in Anne’s car after having filled Gemma’s. “You sit with your sister,” she squeezed Harry’s shoulder and left no room for argument. Within seconds, she was grabbing keys from Michal and Harry’s mum. The lovely couple had been showered with gifts for the arriving baby girl. Michal and Anne were chatting at one table, Harry and Gemma at another.

“Who does this kind of thing?” Gemma asked rhetorically. “You cannot let her get away. There is no better sister-in-law I could imagine. No better aunt,” she said pointedly.

Harry smirked, his cheeks turning red at the compliments. But it wasn’t his place to blush or accept the compliments. She was perfect. Truly. But he didn’t do anything but find her by practically stumbling into her. They worked for the same company, Harry was a research assistant and she worked in IT. One day his computer was glitching out and Harry headed down a quiet hallway.

The room was dark, just a couple strings of Christmas lights around the walls. Music played quietly from a speaker while she organized paperwork and read over her computer screen. A pair of glasses (that turned out to be just for blue light and not for seeing) perched on her nose.

She was beautiful. That was the first thing Harry noticed because he couldn’t help but notice.

“Hi,” he said in greeting. “M’laptop froze.”

She was intelligent. That was the second thing. Because she worked magic within moments to get his computer back up and running.

The rest was history. She worked on it quickly and diligently. Tapping buttons, pressing keys that Harry never touched because he wasn’t convinced his laptop wouldn’t spontaneously gain a conscience. They chatted while she worked. Nothing of major importance. How long they worked there, where they went to school, and if she had tried the new sushi restaurant down the road for lunch.

“Thanks for coming to my dungeon,” she giggled when he was leaving. “Come back any time,” her smile was his favorite thing about her.

Lunchtime from then on meant heading to the dungeon decorated with Christmas lights and pictures of her family on the desk. There was no ring on her finger and only a picture of herself and her dog that she joked about as the longest relationship she had. It meant Harry sharing the sushi from the new place and her telling him that she had a chickpea Caesar salad recipe that he would love.

Harry dated several girls over the years, and each were lovely in their own way, but Gemma wasn’t exaggerating. There was something about the lovely girl he had known for the past few years that Harry didn’t know he was missing. Dates became far and few between. But Harry wasn’t brave enough to wreck their friendship. He didn’t want to be one of those statistics that attempted to date and not have it work out. He didn’t want to lose her by any stretch of the word.

If that meant being best friends, then that was what he would do.

So, she came to family events and confused the hell out of his friends. They didn’t touch (much to Harry’s chagrin) other than a hug or an arm squeeze like she gave him earlier. Neither said anything about the trill of something more bubbling below the surface. The electricity that pulsed from her fingertips and through his entire circulatory system. Harry was content to have her in his life in any form she existed because she was lovely and wonderful.

He only wished she opened up to him the slightest bit more.

Harry knew her favorite color and that her mom had passed away when she was eight. But there was this element of their friendship that she seemed to hold back. It felt like Harry would drink wine while they watched movies and dump all the things he felt from a young age on her. He told her things he didn’t tell anyone—not even Gemma or Niall or Mitch. He told her the inadequacies he felt, the impostor syndrome he felt at work, all of it. The anxiety he felt for the future and whether life would be what he wanted from it. She held each of his worries and fears in her hands like they were crystal glasses needing to be moved. She consoled him even though he was really over it. Assuaged him of all his worries and assured him that his life would be amazing simply because he was him. “Y’should have been a therapist, kitten,” he winked at her.

She smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”

She never reciprocated. There was a strength to her that waved off her. It was warm and everyone around her felt it. Her friends adored her, that much was obvious. But it was as if they were all so close to saying “we don’t need to worry about her.” She didn’t just console Harry. Everyone came to her for advice. The quiet lovely lady that worked in a dungeon and hid all of her thoughts and feelings. When they needed to vent, she was their phone call. Advice was her specialty. There was never judgment in her voice. No frustration or the feeling of pushing their worries aside. Every emotion her friends felt was valid and she would process and work through them as much as she possibly could.

When Harry was upset about a breakup—one that in hindsight he didn’t know why he even bothered—she didn’t make him feel bad that it had only been a short relationship. “Five months is a big deal,” she reminded him, placing a plate of his favorite tacos in front of him. It was her specialty. He wondered what came first, if she made tacos because she liked them or because he liked them. “You liked her a lot and five months is a big deal...it’s like a turning point. It was out of nowhere too. Anyone in their right mind would be upset,” she promised returning to the coffee table with her own plate. She sat on the floor across from him. He watched her eat a few bites wondering why on earth she was single for the umpteenth time.

“What’s your longest relationship?” He asked.

She snorted. “Um...a year, I think.”

“You think?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really date.”

The fact his heart cracked more at her words than the breakup he experienced the day before should have been his biggest clue that he was hopeless for the sweet girl.

“I noticed,” he smirked. “You’re too good for anyone, kitten,” he promised.

Her lips curled up in a half smile and she shook her head. “I don’t know about that.”

“S’okay, m’sure for you,” he winked making her laugh.

Harry didn’t date much after that either. Nothing serious; no more than a couple dates and setups from friends. Instead, he continued inviting her to family birthday parties and holidays where, naturally, everyone fell in love with her.

How could he blame his family and friends, really?

He was in the very same boat as them.

Gemma was having some minor trouble after delivering Harry’s sweet niece. The anxiety he felt was so overwhelming. His hands shook as his mum relayed the message. He stammered as he answered, dropped his keys. When he bent to retrieve them, her hand appeared in his vision, snatching them from the ground.

“No, I’ll drive,” she said firmly. Even if Harry wanted to argue he couldn’t.

She held Harry’s hand tightly on the middle console as she drove. Without any fanfare, she dropped him off in front of the main entrance and went off to find a parking spot. When he arrived in the waiting room, Anne was smiling as if there was no issue at all. “Wanna meet your niece?”

He did. Very badly. But his sister was his best friend. “What ‘bout Gemma?”

“She’s fine, Harry. Truly,” Anne assured him and rubbed his back.

They discussed the complications Gemma faced and all the worries Harry had for both her, Michal, and the sweet, adorable baby that was perfectly healthy and sleeping peacefully in the window alongside five or so other newborns.

They returned to the waiting room after Michal went back to the baby’s side. Anne squeezed Harry’s hand reassuringly once more and within moments, she was there. “I left my welcome gift at home in the rush to get here,” she appeared with overpriced objects from the giftshop. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes a bit dazed, and Harry sensed she was overwhelmed but assumed it was because of the surprise arrival of Harry’s niece and nothing more.

His heart rate slowed at her appearance. Like she was physical assurance that things really would be okay. She smiled at him, sighed, and gave Anne a hug. “Congrats Grandma,” her voice was proud and excited.

Harry couldn’t have asked for a better day.

Harry was a natural with babies. He was so at ease holding the newborn in his arms. “Think she’ll have our smile?” Gemma asked, showing off the very expression. He could hardly tear his eyes away from the baby but nodded at his sister’s question.

“Yeah,” he sighed smiling gratefully at the little one in his arms. He didn’t want to put her down. If he ever had children of his own, he had no idea how he was going to share. He had no idea how Gemma managed to fork her over to him in the first place—when all he wanted was to hold her anyway.

“Where did she go?”

“M’not sure,” he admitted. “Add money to the car meter, I think,” he shrugged. “I was told not t’worry about her.”

“Naturally.”

Harry frowned, brushing his finger along the baby’s soft cheek. “S’that supposed t’mean?”

“She doesn’t let anyone worry about her,” Gemma shrugged. “It’s probably pretty traumatic for her to be here,” Gemma’s tone had an air that she was reminding Harry of something he was supposed to remember, some event that he didn’t know. But he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“What do y’mean?”

Gemma tilted her head and shifted slightly in her bed. Michal and Anne were getting food from the cafeteria. “Harry, her mom died here,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry’s stomach rolled and he thought about the anxiety he felt coming to the hospital on behalf of his sister. It was nothing in comparison to the anxiety she must have felt.

Harry finally looked up from the sweet little baby and gazed at his sister. “She’s never told me that.”

Gemma frowned and relayed the story. Told her something about last Christmas. She thought that Harry knew because they were best friends. But Harry didn’t. It was one of those things she kept to herself. Gemma found her in the kitchen while everyone else was drinking and chatting in the family room. She told Gemma she was grateful to be part of a big Christmas like this. It had been a long time. But it made her miss her mom more than ever.

Then Gemma relayed the time she watched her excuse herself at a family wedding while the groom and mother dance. “Her family doesn’t do big celebrations like us,” Gemma told her. “That girl carries a ton of grief on her back and she acts like it weighs as much as a feather. She never worries about herself only others but in a way that makes you feel that nothing bad will ever happen to you. I swear just thinking about her in the delivery room and how calm she would have been was enough to keep me relaxed,” Gemma laughed and shook her head. “I told her I didn’t expect her to come to the hospital when the time came if she didn’t want to. I would never blame her. She said it wouldn’t be a problem because you wouldn’t bring her—it was a family thing. Do you have any idea how wonderful she is or are we just going to sit here and pretend the love of your life isn’t your best friend?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond. His eyes no longer on the baby, but his sister. Unable to believe the words she said. The outline to what he already knew and felt but couldn’t believe any more if he tried because it seemed so unattainable. The girl who didn’t tell him anything. Or didn’t want to be worried over.

But he was interrupted. “Look how cute this is,” she burst into the room holding a onesie that said “if my mom says no, my uncle will say yes.”

It gave the three of them a pause as Gemma laughed and Harry snorted. “S’true,” he murmured quietly to the tiny being in his arms.

Their giggles were interrupted by an intercom announcement. A code purple and it asked that all visitors and personnel stay on their current floors. The smile slowly faded from her lips, and she glanced at the baby in Harry’s arms. “You look good with a baby,” she winked the smile gently returned. She gave his shoulder a squeeze, laid the onesie on the cot Michal would be sleeping in later. “M’gonna run to the bathroom,” she said.

Harry watched her leave, the first time he had looked at anyone other than the baby for longer than thirty seconds since he met the little one.

“Harry,” Gemma said gently. “You should follow her.”

“What? Why?”

“Do you know what a code purple is?” Harry shook his head. “Missing child.”

Harry looked at the baby again and sighed. “Well, if anyone will find her...”

“It would probably be Miss Wonder Woman herself, yeah?” Gemma finished Harry’s thought.

She couldn’t have gotten far if the stairwells and elevators were blocked off. He searched as much as the rest of the staff on the floor, sending his mum a text that everyone in their little family was fine. Fortunately (for Harry), there was a commotion with one of the patients on the floor and the person standing guard at the stairwell stepped away long enough for Harry to sneak to the next floor. Because he may have felt that she hid a lot from him at times, but he was certain if anyone was going to find a lost little girl, it was going to be her—even if he didn’t know why she wanted to find her.

The enormity of the steps muffled most of the sound, but Harry crept around the back of the stairwell, and found a little storage closet.

“It’s not fair!” It was a small, sad voice that Harry didn’t recognize.

“It’s not,” she agreed. Her voice even, sad in a different way, was one that Harry did recognize.

“Mommy says I have to be brave for my siblings and I’m trying but it’s not fair! I don’t even get to be sad,” she cried.

“I know,” she agreed again. Composed, like she was talking someone off a ledge. Maybe she was, Harry didn’t really know what was happening. But her understanding was tangible. Her soft voice made Harry feel so safe.

But it broke his heart right in half.

“It’s because I’m oldest. Mommy tells me that I’m being a big girl and being brave and helping Daddy get better but I’m not. I don’t want to be here, it’s not fair.”

“I know,” she repeated. “My mommy died when I was your age too. She was really sick. I had to take care of my little brothers and my daddy,” she explained. “It was really hard. I didn’t think I was allowed to cry because I was good at being brave.”

The answer was a sniffle, not words. Harry felt terrible for not knowing this. For never pressing. For finding out in a stairwell with a little girl that neither of them knew. “But do you know who is most worried about you right now while everyone else is worried about your daddy?”

“Who?” There was a big breath of silence. Something that Harry didn’t understand passed between them. Some sort of recognition of the situation they were both privy to and Harry was not. “Daddy doesn’t know I’m there.”

“He does, sweetie, I promise,” she assured her. “Let’s get you back to him.”

“I just want to cry,” she whispered.

“I know. You will. It’s good to cry. Brave even.”

“Mommy says I’m brave for not crying.”

There was a pause for a moment that Harry couldn’t describe. He couldn’t see his best friend nor the little girl that the entire hospital was searching for. But the grief and weight he felt in that little space was immense.

“Mommy will tell you you’re brave for crying too,” she promised. But it was filled with an emotion that Harry couldn’t quite name; but he was sure he sensed a bit of longing in her tone.

He watched her grab the little one’s hand. Like she was grabbing the hand of her younger self. Harry hoped it healed whatever that sense of longing was and whatever she remembered in that quiet pause.

When she turned and saw Harry waiting, her cheeks reddened. She looked away briefly. “Look who I found,” she smiled sweetly. Not a trace of sadness on her face, not even a tear.

Harry hoped she would cry later. Hoped she would tell him everything. He was aching for it. Aching to carry the metric ton of grief she held for so long.

“Made another friend?” Harry asked instead.

She squeezed the girl’s hand. “I think so.”

“You okay, love?” Truthfully, Harry wasn’t sure who he was asking.

The little girl sniffled, her eyes blotchy red and glassy. She looked up at Harry shyly but also with awe. “Are you a prince?”

Harry chuckled and she smiled—the exact reprieve anyone could have hoped for in that moment. “He is,” she smiled kindly. “You’ll find a best friend just like him too,” she promised.

Fortunately, Miss Wonder Woman coaxed the little one back onto the floor and with the commotion of her return, she and Harry snuck right back in. No one questioned them. He wondered if the little girl would even mention her to her mom or the staff. But she was unconcerned—glad the little girl was okay and safe.

“How did you know where she was?” He asked.

She didn’t say anything. Watched the reunion of her mom and her brothers. The sadness flowing through a whole family like a virus.

“Love,” he tried to gather her attention but was unsuccessful. They stood in the waiting room watching from afar. The whole hospital began its routine again.

She wasn’t recognized for finding the little girl.

“Kitten,” he cooed. “Talk to me.”

She sniffled, wiped below her eyes.

“Love,” he touched her arm. It broke something in her. Her lower lip wiggled as she fought back the emotions and tears that she felt bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her.

“Uh...sorry. I just couldn’t—” she cleared her throat and wiped below her eyes again.

“Love, you don’t—”

“Does Gemma need anything? I bet a code purple probably scared a first time—”

“Kitten.” Her shoulders heaved and she tried to continue talking, something about helping or understanding. Something about Gemma and Anne and Michal. “Angel, y’need t’stop,” he whispered quietly, as her sobs took over. Her hands covered her face and she turned toward him. Her body shaking and Harry wrapped her up in his arms. Held cupped the back of her head as she cried and he wanted it to stop. It hurt him so much to feel that pain through her. It wasn’t even his pain. He imagined all those moments in the last few years where she hid her own pain to take care of others.

“I couldn’t cry,” she croaked.

Harry didn’t want her to cry now but he was glad she was.

“I know, angel,” he didn’t. But he would pretend. Because she was there for every emotion that he had felt since he met her, and it never stopped her. She never made him feel bad for feeling any type of way. He would do anything to make her feel the same. “I know,” he sighed and squeezed her as tightly as he could worried he might hurt her but worried she would fully break apart if she didn’t.

Harry’s bed was her new favorite place. “I owe you some new pillowcases,” she whispered.

“Kitten, jus’ worry ‘bout yourself for a change,” he kissed her forehead, almost directly between her eyebrows. It made her feel like she was made of putty.

“I am, if I’m going to be sleeping here, I can’t get dirty from all my tears and snot.”

He chuckled. “I’ll get new pillowcases if y’sleep here.”

“You don’t mind?”

Did he mind her sleeping there? Or getting new pillowcases? “Neither, love,” his fingers trailed up and down her spine. “S’nice, yeah?”

She nodded. “Been thinking about it a while,” she whispered.

“Shoulda said something,” he hummed quietly. “Anything that’s mine, s’yours.”

“Anything?”

“Mhmm.”

“Even the secret chocolate stash you have in the oatmeal box?”

He chuckled. “All yours.”

“What about that candle in your kitchen that you light after you finish cleaning?”

“I’ll put your name on it.”

She was quiet for a minute. She inhaled the warm scent of his cologne poking at the freckles that dotted his collarbones and neck at sporadic intervals. Once the tears started, she couldn’t stop. Hence the need for new pillowcases. Her skin felt raw, blotchy, her head hurt a bit from the lack of water.

But Harry was there the whole time. He didn’t shy away once. Simply let her cry for all the times she didn’t because she needed to be brave and all the times she wanted to anyway. Eventually she whispered all the things she kept from him. From everyone. Even herself.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“Yes, kitten?”

“I know this is lame, but I didn’t date a whole lot growing up because I never felt like good things could happen to me. I always worried it would be taken away and... anyway... I don’t know how to ask this, because it sounds so lame but you’re my best friend so maybe you’ll know what I’m saying and—”

“I told y’anything that’s mine is yours, angel,” his smile was lazy but beautiful. Like this was the most normal thing he’d ever done with her. Everything about him was beautiful. From the surface of his skin to the depths of his soul.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that her best friend already knew what she wanted to say.

His lips brushed against her temple. Her heart finally felt at ease. “Course I want t’be your boyfriend. You have my whole heart.”

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